#the executioner x you

[fishyvamp]

“make me small”

Dead by Daylight Pairings: The Executioner X GN!killer!reader Rating: M | Mature | NSFW 18+ Word count: 1.5k+ CW: degradation, heavy consensual violence, light fingering, sub!reader, monster fuckery, choking, denial, subspace, thigh fucking Summary: You're pent up and need someone to put you in your place.

The rage feels like fire in your veins as you stalk through the dark fog, Knives along your chest feeling just a bit too heavy. The dark voice inside you purred and praised you for your good work. You felt too big, as if the space inside you wasn’t enough to contain the fire that threatened to spill out and burn everything in its path. Mindlessly you had found yourself in front of Midwich, the elementary school decrepit and falling apart even if it was in better shape out of trials. You rolled your shoulders, the realization whispering exactly what you needed, Him. 

Mind singularly focused, you stormed in growling lowly clothes still soaked in blood from the trials. You could tell He had visitors. You’ll just chase them off, tell them to find somewhere else to loiter. Someone else to waste their time with.

Pyramid head sitting down, sharpening his blade, on a chair comically small compared to his mass frame. Head tilting upwards instantly knowing why you were here. The room feels colder, his visitors bolting from the room, the legion members jumping windows and fleeing. You did wonder why they were here, but the thought vanished the moment the large man stood up jamming his blade into the floorboards before approaching you with heavy boots thumping with each step. 

Your eyes are wild as you look up feeling ready to explode. The Executioner was unphased by your posture, everything at this moment was routine. When you first arrived no one would go near you. The blood lust built up after each trial with no downtime, no way to get it out, and no real release like you had in your world, the rage lashing and attacking anything that spoke or so much as moved in your direction.

The only one who made any headway in calming you was Him. He pushed you harshly against the wall, a massive hand drifting up your throat, and pressing harshly, you gasped for air, but you didn’t fight. You never did, but the lack of oxygen brought a warm fuzzy feeling in your head that had your eyes fluttering, “Tell me what you need.” he growled, voice echoing in the steel frame.

“I’m too big,” you grunt, “make me small.” the words would almost be a plea if your face wasn’t twister anger, and rage. You can hear a huff echoing against the steel, the clock tower chimes air raid horn going off, the pound of the bell loud and clear shaking the school, echoing in your chest. ”Beg,” his voice low and breathy. Your skin prickles as a shiver overtakes you.

You close your eyes focusing on your breathing, on your heart, on the way the cold air of the destroyed classroom felt. “Please…” you speak softly, your body relaxing, he presses into you harder. It’s like he wants to crush you. “Please what?” He demands squeezing your throat tighter. “Please, use me. Fuck me. Crush me, choke me. Just please remind me of my place.” You look up desperate, eyes half-closed as you struggle to breathe. “Where is your place?” he asks, loosening his grip just ever so slightly.

“Under you,” you manage to breathe out. Your core clenches hearing him laugh, grabbing you by the throat and slamming you onto the teacher's desk. You watch as he removes his frame a black dripping shapeless void where his head should be, glowing white eyes, a long tongue flicking around wildly trapped in his mouth with teeth too sharp to be human. The large man grabs your thighs pulling them apart just so he can grind into you feeling the heat of your sex it has him throwing his head back groaning. 

“This what you want?” He growls leaning forward, elbows resting on the creaking wood, caging you to the desk. You nod your head silently, craning your neck to look at where his eyes should be. “This all you good for.” he hisses as if this very request offended him. His hips grind harder, one hand supporting your back while he rough grips the back of your skull. “Just a nasty whore.” Your eyes close softly, gasping for breath you focus on the way his clothed cock rubs against you. The way it nudges against your sex. Grinding through the very fabric that separated the two of you.

“Sinful,” Pyramid head gunts slamming your hips together. His tongue coaxed your mouth open pushing in, wet appendage filling your throat, you gag and buck. Eyes watering as you try to swallow all of him. Desperate to please him. Desperate to make today the day he finally fills you with that heavy cock.

The Executioner purs feeling you choke on his tongue, exploring deep inside you stopping before he tastes the acid of your stomach. He enjoys the way you struggle to breathe with him inside you. The tasty feeling of you fighting yourself not to try and get him off of you. He enjoyed the conflict that rooted itself inside you. He enjoyed the way that bloodthirsty monster inside you fades the more he forces you down. Forces you to take him and everything he gives you. The giant man twists and curls his tongue inside you, the appendage curling up and bulging in your throat. His gaze was intense as he glowered down at you. Watching you try to claw at him, try to breathe, everything about you desperate.

He pulls out of you softly. Chuckling at you, watching you gasp for breath tears staining the corners of your eyes. Beautiful, he thinks flipping you onto your stomach and yanking your pants down just enough to expose that pretty ass for him. His fingers dipped down to trace your hole pressing in slightly as he just shook his head. He can feel that you’re trying, that you want this, but not yet. 

You whine feeling him press a thick finger into you curling and twisting hitting your sweet spot having you arch your back mewling loudly, desperately clawing at the desk struggling to find purchase anywhere. “Quiet,” he growls, pressing your head into the desk. Large hand pressing almost painfully down, You can hear him shifting fabric before a heavy cock finds its way to the curve of your ass gliding between your cheeks. Slow and gentle, your mind focuses solely on the feeling as you try to lift it.

“Please,” you whine, face tight as you fight your body trying to not come off as pathetic as you feel. “Please,” you repeat. He leans forward pressing you down with a large hand still pinning your face harshly against the desk. “No,” you moan, feeling the way his voice rumbles against his back. 

“Not this time.” His fingers leave your hole, making you whine in discomfort from not being filled anymore. you have to bite your lip to stop the desperate sobs that threaten to escape. The beast shifted once more, pressing himself between your thighs. “Be good and squeeze for me.” he hisses thrusting slowly pre cum lubing between your thighs as he moves slowly groaning darkly as his hips move. His long tongue falls out feeling you press your thighs together tightly. Sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight. You need this, you need him. You could feel your empty hole twitching desperate for more than the finger that has long left it.

Pyramid head just chuckles, his hips moving at a steady pace, the cock was easily the size of your forearm, you didn’t care if it wouldn’t fit, you still wanted it, still wanted to feel it burn as it stretched you. Still wanted to have it split you open like the needy whore you were. You just had to settle with feeling as it rubbed against your sex. Your juices leaked onto it as he continued to thigh fuck you. “Please,” you were starting to feel like a broken record. He picks your head up slamming into the desk, pain blooming from your head. “No!” he growls, moving faster, cock twitching between your thighs. 

“You listen the first time I tell you.” His words were dark, the world spinning. That actually fuckin hurt. You gasp for breath feeling him falter. He must be close, the thought all but confirmed as you are yanked off the desk and forced to the floor the cock inches from your face. A thick hand frantically stroking the cock while the other held you in place. You look up, tongue falling out as you anticipate what he wants you to do cum splashing on your face as he covers you with his spend.

It doesn't take long before he pulls against his groin, growling at you, “clean your mess up whore.” He speaks in such a dark and low tone you can feel it vibrating down your spine. You look up, eyes half-lidded as you begin to lick the softening shaft. The Executioner groans as you work your magic. This was just the start of a very long night. You were completely feral when you came in and no doubt would need a lot to silence that pesky voice in your head. He'll take his time, and you'll enjoy every second of it.

[theres-a-body-here]

Scumtober - Day 7 (Judgment)

Pyramid Head x Male!reader

Your heart pounds in your chest as you run as fast as you possibly can. Your chest tightens as your lungs burn, pushing back all pain to the back of your mind as you try to escape the monster that wants you dead.

A man with a pyramid for a head.

A low growl rumbles in the creature's chest as it closes in on you. Its massive strides closing the distance between you two. Each step it takes shakes the ground beneath you.

You should've gone with James. You should've stayed where you were. You should've...

A gasp leaves your mouth as you stumble on a crack in the ground, and despite regaining your balance quickly, you glance behind you to see that the beast is right behind you

It raises its great knife, preparing to strike you down like the countless souls before you. It swings its arm back, ready to slice your body into two pieces.

Screaming, you duck down and hear a loud whoosh as the blade cuts through the air above your head. Your ears ring from the force of the blade slamming against the lamppost beside you. The post creaks under the pressure before breaking apart.

You take the moment to make some distance, your heart skipping a beat as you realize how close death was to claiming you.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Your voice cracks as you shout at the top of your lungs. Fear courses through your veins like electricity, making each breath feel like daggers slicing through your throat. Your heart races faster than it ever did before. Every beat feels like a explosion in your eardrums. Sweat drips down your forehead and pools in your neck, staining your shirt.

You take a sharp turn into an alleyway, sprinting towards the end of it, but as you reach the end, you find yourself staring at a dead end. Panic sets in as you realize that there's nowhere else to run. Your pulse quickens even more as adrenaline surges through your veins.

You're trapped like a rat.

You hear its stomping as the monster catches up to you, trapping your only way out. It looms over you with its massive frame, casting a shadow over your small form.

You take one step back, then another, and then a few more until your back hits the wall.

Its 'head' tilts slightly as it studies you, as if expecting something from you.

Then again, maybe it is simply waiting for you to break down. To beg for mercy.

James.... I'm sorry. I hope you find your wife.

And with that final thought, it closes the gap swiftly, moving far quicker than you imagined a beast that size could move.

Before you can react, a large hand wraps around your throat, squeezing tightly against your windpipe. Your nails dig into its forearm as you attempt to pry it away from you. But it's like trying to move a mountain.

You immediately stop struggling as it presses the end of the blade's handle against your stomach, almost as if warning you. Struggling to draw in air, you and the monster stare at each other.

Minutes pass, and even though it hasn't moved or loosened its grip around your throat, it remains completely still.

Then suddenly, it pulls away slightly, raising its massive blade.

With dread settling in your stomach like lead, you squeeze your eyes shut.

...but nothing happens. No pain. No death.

Instead of feeling the searing agony of steel cutting through flesh, you hear a metallic thud followed by a low rumble. Cracking open your eyelids slightly, you notice that it had thrust its blade into the ground beside it.

It watches you closely for several tense seconds before slowly reaching out to touch you with its hand.

You instinctively try to pull away from its touch, but its grip on your throat tightens slightly, holding you in place as its fingers trace lightly across your chest.

As its hand continues to travel further down your body, you again try to struggle against his grip. It doesn't try to correct your behavior. Not that it needed to.

Your breath hitches in your throat as its hand slides under your shirt. Its burning touch sends a wave of unease through your body, threatening to engulf you fully like fire.

Maybe you'll spontaneously combust and be free from this.

Whatever it was searching for, it seemed to have found it as its hand begins tracing over the jagged scar that runs under your left breast as if trying to reopen it. You wince in pain as its rough touch irritates the sensitive tissue surrounding the old wound.

After a few moments, its hand shifts over to the matching scar under your right breast. Its touch lingers longer here compared to the last one, almost tenderly caressing the marred flesh before pulling away suddenly.

Withdrawing its blade from the ground, it turns away and starts to walk out of the alleyway. Yet instead of releasing you, it drags you along by the neck. Its coarse hands digging into your skin uncomfortably.

"Let go of me," you choke out between coughs, attempting to pry its hand loose from around your throat. Although it doesn't seem interested in releasing you anytime soon.

You frantically try to dig your heels into the ground in an attempt to slow it down, but the behemoth seemed unfazed. As you finally stop resisting, one thought throbs through your head...

Where was it taking you?

Scumtober 2024 Masterlist

[enchantedflameandflower]

IT’S TIME TO GET NAKEY!

My lord I could ride him in that bathtub for hours I swear, just let me try… THAT LEG MY GOD

Slippin’ and ridin’ and sliding’ his huge hands all over you while he looks like this, all blissed out by the way you feel, made just for him.

Who thinks he’s naked in this tub, raise your hand 🫠

[morwap]

I just ask for some Pyramid head smut. That man makes me SO weak 🙏🙏🙏

dbd setting!! he has like a tentacle tongue thing???

he stretched you out, no matter how many times you two did this you never got used to it. he was so big in every sense of the word, you didn’t know how it fit at first and at this point you just stopped wondering.

you tried to open your legs wider for him, the growls came from him seemed to be pleased with you trying to help.

the cold from the desks he had pushed together gave you goosebumps. your fingers circled around your clit as your cunt struggled around his cock.

you closed your eyes for a second, you felt his cold tongue lick up your thigh as he thrusted into you. you opened your else and he let out a purr, glad he caught your attention.

the executioner’s tongue licked at your clit once you moved your fingers for a moment then he licked up your body.

his gloved hands pushed your legs to your chest as he got rough, making the desks shake and his knife that he rested against a few desks beside you.

[pettyprocrastination]

The Deathly Devout

Pairing: Executioner!König x Nun!Reader (Medieval au) 

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Religious themes and settings, talk of death, religious guilt, nothing much this is pretty tame. I have very little knowledge of how catholic confessionals actually go especially in a medieval setting forgive me. probably many spelling errors im sorry. 

Author’s Note: was talking to @thesadvampire about @hffhifjou fucking amazing art of the 141 as knights and now we have Executioner!König. This is mostly just a word burst from this morning but I really like this concept and wanted to share with you all 

Tagging some mutuals I think might enjoy this: @sprout-fics @humanransome-note @moondirti @fnny-bnny @yeehaw-djarin @captainsamwlsn

_______________--

     It was quite amusing to see the executioner in the confessional booth. 

     That isn’t to say that he doesn’t visit often, no. If anything it’s the exact opposite, Father Montomgery sees him more than any pious banker or self-hating gambler in the city. But the man was monstrous, broad in his shoulders with thick arms and legs to match, resulting in him having to twist and fold his body to properly fit into the little wooden booth. He could see the silhouette of the poor man’s shoulders hunched in and head tucked low. 

     It almost made up for how absolutely aggravating he was to listen to. 

     “Forgive me father for I have sinned.” 

     “May God, who has enlightened every heart, help you know your sins and trust in his mercy.” 

     König swallows. 

     “I killed a man this week.” 

     The priest, knowing this voice better than others and the hulking silhouette it belongs to, sighs. 

     “The thief, then?” He asks, voice dripping with indifference. “The little painter who was caught stealing?” 

     “Yes father.” 

     The “little thief” has been a blossoming apprentice under a most respected artist within the city, only for the truth to come out that he had been stealing funds from his mentor for months on end.  The king had suggested König simply cut off the painter’s hands and let him live out the rest of his days in poverty. “What better punishment for an artist than a life where he cannot create?” 

     But the end ruling was for the artist to lose his head in the town-square and König’s hands delivered the blade to his neck. 

     “That was simply an act of your work, my child.” 

     “But-” 

     There is a deep sigh from the opposite side of the booth and König falls silent, like a scolded child. 

     The irony isn't lost on the priest, that a man who must associate himself with the macabre so often is incredibly devout in his worship. But the humor was drowned out by how astonishingly self-loathing the poor bastard was. 

     “My child, do you believe our king is the one true king?”

     “Of course father.” 

     “And do you believe our God is the one, true, God?” 

     There’s a garbled noise that comes from the larger man, an incredulous sputtering at how the priest would ever assume he would say otherwise. 

     It makes the man chuckle. 

     “Of course father!” 

     “Then acting out the King’s law is acting out God’s law, is it not?” 

     There’s a pause, the priest can see the man shrink down into his seat even further, if that was even possible with how he contorted the bulk of his body to squeeze into the wooden booth. 

     “I’m not saying you cannot feel-” He waves his hand in the air, despite the fact that König cannot truly see him. “-conflicted, about your career. It’s not one that comes easily, I’m sure. But it is not one that makes you a monster, despite how many people would try to have you believe that.” 

     “Yes father.” 

     The man’s voice is a shred of what it should be- all but a trembling whisper that makes even the exhausted priest frown. 

     “Being an executioner isn’t an easy job. But it’s one that is needed nonetheless.” 

     König says something softly to himself, but the priest cannot be bothered to ask what. 

     “For your sins I-” 

     “Actually, father-” the wooden step creaked under his weight as he shifted on his knees. “There’s something else.” 

     “Oh?” 

     “I’ve been having impure thoughts about a woman.” 

     “Oh.” 

     The priest blinks. He had never heard the man speak of any sin aside from the violence he acted out on the King’s word. Truth be told he had begun to think the lad was so devout such a concept was all but foreign to him. 

     But this?

     “I’m listening, my child.” 

     This was far more interesting than listening to him bemoan about a town square beheading. 

     “She is-” König chews on the inside of his cheek, chipped teeth digging into the formed scars he has had since childhood from the nervous habit. “Promised to somebody else.” 

     The priest hides a snicker behind a well placed cough. 

     “Married?”

     “In a manner of speaking, yes.” 

      “I haven’t…acted upon them.” The man who has killed week after week fiddles with his hands, face turning bright red as simply speaking of his attraction toward the woman. The priest couldn't help but wonder who she was. Whether it be a kind tavern girl who ignored his gaze each day he walked by or a local prostitute that urged on his affection as long as he could afford her time. 

     It’s no secret that few women would concern themselves with the local executioner, if not even look him in the eyes. 

     “She’s a good woman of proper virtue, I would not sully her name in such a way.” 

     This poor bastard. 

     “Is she beautiful?” 

     “I’m sorry?” 

     “The woman you speak of, do you find her attractive?” 

     König swallows. “Yes, incredibly. Her smile rivals that of the sun and-” 

     “That’s more than enough.” The priest grins into his hand as the airy tone the executioner’s voice took on, like a poet reciting his latest venture. The man was properly lovesick, how charming. “I do not believe you have committed any sin in appreciating a woman’s beauty.” 

     “I haven’t?” 

     “Admiring a woman’s beauty is like admiring a piece of art, is it not?” The priest offers. “You are simply taking in the art that God has created with his own hands, my child.” 

     Before König has a chance to respond, through the lattice he sees a flash of white through the corner of his eye. A soft voice humming a tune fills the air, echoing through the church hall like a well-respected hymn. In a panic, König begins to stand his full height before he is halted in his tracks as the top of his head slams into the confessional roof. 

     “My son?” 

     “Ah, apologies father! But I have to leave because of-” 

     The priest nods. “Yes, yes of course.You are absolved of your sins, give thanks to the Lord, for He is good.” 

     The final word is drowned out by the slam of the confessional door opening the man’s thundering footsteps receding from the booth. 

     The executioner stands to his full height as he exits the church. He shields his eyes as he steps outside, suddenly overwhelmed by the burst of sunlight. 

     In his haste, he did not see the figure at his side. 

     “Good morning to you, König.”

     The man jumps, twisting around to face you where you stand at the bottom church steps, broom in hand and a smile on your face. 

     “Ah! Yes! Good morning to you as well, sister.” 

     “A lovely day, is it not?” 

     Heat creeps up the back of his neck and he struggles to find the words he wished to speak to you. But you, ever patient and kind, wait without judgment. 

     “Yes, quite lovely.” 

     As König stares down at you, his heart beating as he watches the sun shine on your figure and your smile, he finds himself thinking of the Holy Father’s words.

     “You are simply taking in the art that God has created with his own hands”

     What beautiful art indeed. 

[bloodcasket]

OBSESSIVE PYRAMID HEAD

Pairing: Obsessive! Pyramid Head x GN!Reader

Description: Short headcanons of what to expect from an obsessive Pyramid Head.

Warning: NSFW themes, obsession, and violent themes.

Punishment (Will they punish you?) 🔪:

Pyramid Head has spent his entire existence punishing the ones who have sinned. He tosses around things he doesn't find important, but you? Oh no, he couldn't. He's so powerful he could reach down and crush you with his hand, but he simply doesn't because he chooses not to. When you've made a mistake, he leans more towards abandoning you so you learn your lesson. Oh? So you decided to explore the hospital without his permission? Stay there and deal with the nurses then. He'll leave for short periods of time, but then come back to retrieve you as he always does. He knows you've learned when he sees your bloodshot eyes and trembling skin.

Sexual endeavors (How they please you) 🥀:

He definitely falls on the higher spectrum for lust. He desires it endlessly, and will gladly take you if you even hint at it. Prefers to receive more than give during sexual intercourse, meaning he is always taking control in any situation. Prefers to bend you over something and pleasure you that way, it's easier for the both of you. Doesn't mind you grinding against him though, he melts when he feels your legs straddle his thigh, and your whimpers coax his gloved hands to squeeze your waist tighter. Definitely has a size kink, and is animalistic and rough with his sex.

Bloodshed (Are they willing to kill for their s/o?) 🩸:

Absolutely! It feels like his duty now to ward off the threats that could possibly leave a scratch on you. He will forever kill for you. You can't really stop him, it's the whole purpose of his creation.

Stalking (Will they stalk their s/o?) 🕸️:

At first, yes. He would linger in the shadows of silent hill and observe. But after seeing you as an eternal partner, he doesn't try to hide the fact that he watches your every move.

Obsession/scale 1-10 🖤:

Pyramid Head is an 8/10 considering obsession level. He is known for purely existing to protect Alessa, battling any darkness that attempts to harm her. He would absolutely do the same for you. Guarding your every step, and watching your every breath. Make sure you stay out of harms way when you grow exhausted and decide to rest. Even with as terrifying as Silent Hill is, you'll never have to feel scared with a 7ft tall monster protecting you.

Desires (What do they wish from you?) 🕷️:

Pyramid Head deep down wishes he could stay with you eternally. You are human though, and he knows this. He knows you're significantly different from him, and living this life with him won't last long.

Endangerment (How scary is it to be with them?) 🌕:

Pyramid Head himself doesn't put you in trouble. He doesn't wish to harm you, he's your "guardian angel" after all. It's the atmosphere that is a risk to you. Silent Hill is full of monsters, and staying in it is extremely dangerous.

Sympathy (Do they feel bad for taking you?)🪦:

He doesn't care less. It would be of best interest if you gave in, it would be less of a pain on your part. He was eventually going to take you whether you liked it or not.

Roughness(Do they hurt you?) 🦴:

Pyramid Head quite enjoys manhandling you, through innocent intention and sexual intention. Seeing how weak you are compared to him makes his monstrous mindset soften. He would not purposely hurt his darling though, it could kill them.

Intimacy (How romantic are they?) 🎀:

Obviously, he does not have the mentality of a human being. He won't take you on dates, and won't buy you presents. He doesn't speak words of affirmation, and he can't kiss you. But strangely, with how inhumane he is, he is quite affectionate. Keeps you warm in his large arms, and let's you curiously hold his hand. He rumbles through his helmet in an animalistic manner, and it echoes in your eardrums. You can truly tell he's happy with you. That he loves you.

Game? (Are you a game to them?) ���:

Never was, and never will be a game to Pyramid Head. He's one of the more serious slashers in general, so when it comes to significant others, he wouldn't find humor in it.

[ephemerasnape]

➔ A Bone To Pick - Victor Rookwood discovers who's behind all the smutty audios about him - and he's pissed. (Also can be considered a sort of disclaimer for my audios in general.)

➔ Bait & Switch - Ominis and Sebastian discuss a serious problem they're having in this Public Service Announcement to the fandom.

I've created quite a bit of Hogwarts Legacy material (most of which is adult-oriented). The following stories and audios are predominantly 18+, explicit, and x female!reader or listener where you are MC (with a few exceptions). Although much of my stuff is x reader I do not use Y/N or MC by default as I personally find both distracting.

Listing of all audios with links to ao3

All my Daddy Rookwood AUDIOS!

Chatbots!

My ao3

Socials / RookwoodGroup.org

Discord: Unrestricted Section

Rookwood Groupies Group on Tumblr

My Commissions

Rules & Disclaimers! There are no fucking rules, are you kidding me? This is fanfiction, it's a no man's land of degeneracy. Exercise a modicum of independent thought and live a little.

Victor Rookwood Headcanons!

List of all Victor Rookwood Audios!

Fanfiction (there are a few more on ao3 that are not my favorite)

🌟 = recommended!

🌟 A Quick Word - (Rookwood x You - 5,000 words.) Explicit - What could transpire if you would only allow Rookwood to have a word with you at the Three Broomsticks as he requested.

A Wicked, Wicked Man - (Rookwood x You - 3,300 words.) Explicit, Rape, Violence - “Perhaps you long to be treated like the disobedient little whore you are.”

🌟 Rough Night - (Ashwinders x You, Rookwood & You - 6,600 words.) Explicit, Gang Rape, Violence - You lose the battle with Rookwood and his cronies that takes place during Wand Mastery. Includes a version with a female reader, and one with a male reader.

🌟Under the Hog's Head - (Rookwood x You - 2,800 words.) Explicit, Rape - "I don't think you're in any position to bargain, little one."

How Dunstan Trinity Lost His Eye (Dunstan Trinity & Victor Rookwood - 1,100 words.) Gen, Violence, Gore

🌟 Devoutly to be Wished (Anne Sallow x Victor Rookwood) - Explicit - Anne Sallow is dying. When she receives word from Sebastian regarding the likely progenitor of the curse that's killing her, she feels she must uncover the truth.

Micro Smut: Upstairs at the Three Broomsticks (Rookwood x You) Explicit

Micro Fic with Fanart: Ephemera Snape's Revenge (Rookwood x Me)

A Five Hundred Galleon Whore (Rookwood x F!OC - 3,200 words) Explicit, Noncon, Dubcon - Epilogue to Paying the Piper. "You can cooperate or I can let all the men in my ranks take their fill of you."

Audios:

↱ Daddy Rookwood audios now live here! There were just too many!

Fanfiction (more on ao3)

🌟 A Change of Heart - (Poacher x You - 2,500 words.) Explicit - You encounter a Poacher camped in a remote area all by his lonesome. Easy kill, right? Wrong.

🌟 Last Man Standing - (Poacher Executioner x You - 2,000 words.) Explicit, Rape, Violence - “You're lucky you're not a wizard... I would have snapped your neck already if you were."

🌟 Rough Night - (Ashwinders x You, Rookwood & You - 6,600 words.) Explicit, Gang Rape, Violence - You lose the battle with Rookwood and his cronies that takes place during Wand Mastery. Includes a version with a female reader, and one with a male reader.

How Dunstan Trinity Lost His Eye (Dunstan Trinity & Victor Rookwood - 1,100 words.) Gen, Violence, Gore

Encounter on Phoenix Mountain - (Poacher Stalker x You - 1,300 words.) Explicit - A solitary Poacher Stalker corners you in Phoenix Mountain Cave. What's a girl to do?

Under the Hog's Head - (Ashwinders & Rookwood x You - 2,800 words.) Explicit, Gang Rape - "I don't think you're in any position to bargain, little one."

🌟 Paying the Piper (Ashwinder Scout x OFC - WIP) Explicit - The newest shopkeeper in Hogsmeade is met with an unpleasant surprise when a handsome young Ashwinder shows up at her door demanding payment. COMIC!

Masked Man (Ashwinder Scout x OFC - 1,100) Explicit, Quickie, CNC - "This is what happens to pretty little shopkeepers who don't pay their due."

The Poacher's Prize (Poppy Sweeting x Poachers - 1,800 words) Explicit, Rape, Violence - Poppy pays the price for her betrayals!

Dawn of Regret (Poacher Executioner x You - 1,900 words) Explicit, Rape - “Ye wanted to seduce a dark wizard,” the Executioner purrs, running his tongue across your lips. “Well, haha, it worked!”

Audios:

The Pledge (Rookwood & Selwyn x You - 4:50min) - Explicit, Gang Rape - Silvanus Selwyn catches you, but Rookwood gets first dibs...

Comeuppance (Ashwinders x You, Rookwood & You - 5:55min) - Explicit, Gang Rape, Lesbian, Violence - You are subjugated by Ashwinders and Poachers..

Rookwood's Revenge 2 - The Ashwinders (Ashwinders x You, Rookwood & You - 4:55min) - Explicit, Gang Rape, Violence - The Ashwinders take their revenge on you under Rookwood's watchful eye.

Executioner Monologue (2:43min) - Biographical monologue by Poacher Executioner - SFW

🌟At the Mercy of Macnair (Poacher Stalker x You, 4:12min) - Explicit, Rape - You've been caught in a bandit camp. You're bound, gagged, and helpless, but where's the fun in just leaving you be?

Battle Royal at Horntail Hall (Poppy Sweeting x Poacher Stalker, 2.23min) - SFW - You and Poppy get caught sneaking into Horntail Hall and are immediately recognized.

All in a Day's Work (Rookwood x Ashwinder!You - 2min) - Explicit, Dubcon - "The boss wants to see you."

Paying the Piper Excerpt (Ashwinder Scout x OFC - 1:19min) SFW

Lip Service (Ashwinder Scout x OFC - 1:46min) Explicit - Oswald's first blowjob from my fic "Paying the Piper."

Harlot of the Highlands (Poacher Executioner x You - 4:37) Explicit - You sneak into his tent at night looking for a special kind of trouble.

Quick Handjob (Ashwinder Scout x MC - 0:40) - Explicit

Tête-à-tête (Ashwinder Scout & MC - 1:18) - SFW - An Ashwinder Scout pleads for his life.

Fanfiction:

The Dark Sacrifice - (Ominis & Sebastian x You - 1,800 words.) Explicit, Noncon - Sebastian asks you to meet him and Ominis at the catacomb to make a dark sacrifice. Little do you know it's going to be you.

Another Secret for the Undercroft - (Ominis & Sebastian x You - 5,200 words.) Explicit - "I know I’m not as good as Sebastian,” Ominis hisses, “I’m better.”

Talk to Me - (Ominis x Reader - 1,685 words) Explicit - After visiting the Scriptorium, you can't stop thinking about Ominis speaking parseltongue. Smut ensues.

Audios:

Today's the Day (Ominis & Sebastian x You/MC - 2:18min) - Explicit, Gang Rape, Violence - Sebastian and Ominis make you pay the price after learning of your alliance with Victor Rookwood..

Bait and Switch (Ominis & Sebastian & ? - 2:15min) SFW - The boys discuss a serious problem they're having. Fortunately, Victor Rookwood has a solution.

Talk to Me (Ominis x You/MC - 2:44min) - Explicit - After leaving the Scriptorium, you pull Ominis aside, having been entranced by his use of parseltongue. (God, I hate this audio so much!)

A Moment Alone (Sebastian x ? - 1:10min) - Explicit - Sebastian thinks he's alone in the Undercroft..

Sebastian's Pleasure (Sebastian x You - 0:40min) - Explicit - Just Sebastian finishing inside of you...

Pigtails' Revenge (Piers Pemberton x You - 2:09min) - Explicit, GN!Listener, Violence, Dubcon - Piers Pemberton punishes you for stealing his Demiguise statues.

Goblin Supremacy (Ranrok & Rookwood x You - 4:59min) - Explicit, Rape - "Prepare to be conquered for goblinkind, little witch."

A Moment Alone (Sebastian Sallow x Peeves - 1:10min) - Explicit - Sebastian thinks he's alone in the Undercroft..

Ephemera Snape's Revenge (Rookwood x Me - 2:33min) - SFW, Gore

After Dark (Fastidio x Reader/MC - 4,000 words) - Explicit, Rape - "You're on my time now."

Listing of all audios with links to ao3

All my Daddy Rookwood AUDIOS!

Chatbots!

My ao3

Socials / RookwoodGroup.org

Discord: Unrestricted Section

My Commissions

☙ Asks, Requests, and DMs always open! ❧ (Please, I'm bored)

[gremlinmodetweeker]

Hope is in Buns, Life is in Stars, Promises in Vain

Okay so I'm gonna be honest, the Local Executioner!König is the hardest AU to work on. I don't often because it takes immense effort, but I did make another addition. This is a hella long post, and hopefully you all like it.

I admit, of all my fics this is the one I treasure most. It's a somewhat medieval fantasy, but the world is entirely my own. This is not your average fantasy. This is not DnD fantasy. This has been carefully crafted over years to be its own thing. I have so much about this AU its insane.

In truth, this AU will one day be its own story. I am telling you, this is a fic I want to publish under my own name. When it happens, I'll let you all know. Until then, enjoy the fic I work the hardest on.

EDIT: I exceeded the character limit. Y'all lucky bastards get two parts. As punishment for my mistake, part two goes out tomorrow.

TWs: Executions, death, gore, torture (referenced), period-sexism, threatened homelessness (it's an empty threat, your aunt is just mad)

Wordcount: 7.5 of 11.7k (This is my longest fic to date)

Art from This Post

Long Story Blow the Cut

Hope is in Buns, Life is in Stars, Promises in Vain

 You watched as Luit(1) rose into the night sky, followed by her faithful servant(2). Luit’s bright light cast long blue shadows over the golden brown wheat fields that surrounded the home. Far into the horizon, the Culling Woods crawled in a serpentine fashion through the hills and valleys. You just hoped that the person you were looking for wasn’t home.

You’d made a promise before and you damn well planned to keep it. You repeated this motto over and over as you carefully crawled across the creaking wood floor and gingerly descended the aged winterwood(3) stairs to go into the shadowy kitchen below. You found The Axe’s provisions tucked away in the back corner of the shop shelves, covered in a loose white linen rag. You fished it out and plopped it all into a wicker basket, brushed down your dress of crumbs, and set out into the night.

You thought the night would’ve been bright enough, but you were glad to have brought the family’s old wormglow(5) to light your way as you walked along the road. Shadows danced among the wheat fields as you passed by. Sometimes, a whisper of wind would crawl through the stalks and up the back of your neck. You shivered, pulling your coat around you tighter and hurrying your step, fearful of what might lurk among the treeline. You couldn’t help but feel that the bobbing light might attract more than moths and gnats as you made your way to the Criahlin’s stone. You hoped and prayed that only The Axe would find you there.

You dimmed your light as you made your way into the edges of the forest. You feared that behind each tree there might be a wicked bandit prowling. Worst yet, there might be a drunkard, maybe even a lost man of the village. You worried about their wandering eyes falling on your virgin form in the night. With a shiver, you hurried your step along the dirt path.

The Criahlin’s stone rose up on a mound in the forest. You passed by the swinging remains of long-decayed bodies to make your way up to find the great stone stage cleared of any fallen leaves. You looked around nervously as you made your way to the center of the blood-splattered shale stage. A part of you wondered if The Axe truly was a monster, that maybe he lured you out into the dark against your will. Maybe he’d decided to take you for himself out here under the shadow of the trees. For all you knew, he wasn’t even here, and had set up some vagabonds to descend upon you in the waning light of Luit.

Just as you were about to turn back, you heard a great shuffling coming from behind you.

You whipped around to face down the newcomer. In the shadows of the forest, you could hardly see the being, only making out a great and massive form. He drug something through the leaves, something long and heavy. In the other hand he carried a full and heavy sack of some strange bulging contents. You trembled as the figure drew closer to you, slow step by slow, dragging step. You stepped back quickly, stumbling over your feet as you tried to make space between you and the figure.

The figure stopped when you gasped. Slowly, it raised a big hand and waved at you.

You squinted, then sighed when you realized who it was.

“By Halax, you gave me a fright!” you called out to the figure.

“I’m sorry about that,” The Axe stepped into Luit’s light and threw the great cloth sack over his back with a grunt.

“What do you think you’re doing there, creeping around in the forest like that?” you huffed, “and what’s that in your hands?”

The Axe looked down and raised up the stick to reveal his great black axe. This one didn’t have the engravings you knew of. It looked smaller, too. 

“It was getting late. I figured I might pass the time by chopping some firewood,” The Axe explained and gestured to the full sack on his back, “what about you? What took you so long? I was worried you’d never come.”

You grimaced, “My aunt and uncle didn’t want me to come out and see you,” you explained as you brought the wicker basket to your aproned front, “I brought you a couple of extra rolls as an apology.”

The Axe stepped up onto the stone slab stage and came forth to stand in front of you. He picked out one of the rolls and held it up to see it.

“These are… There’s something different about these ones,” he squinted at the offending bun.

“That one’s a honey nut bun,” you explained, “there’s also a sap bun and that one’s a beetle meat bun. I was probably going to take the beetle meat home with me as a snack for the road.”

The Axe gently lowered the bun down to the basket as he whispered, “You didn’t have to do this. Just getting bread is enough.”

“Well,” you shrugged, “maybe you can tell me how good they are.”

“I don’t know how good of a judge I’d be,” The Axe shook his head, “I’ve never had any special buns like these before.”

You laughed, “What do you mean? Everybody’s had some of these buns! They’re the best in town!”

The Axe looked at you sadly, “Not me. I’ve never had one of these before.”

“Never?” you pushed.

“Never,” he repeated, “I could never justify the price.”

“Are you saying my uncle is unfair in his pricing?” you rose an eyebrow.

The Axe shook his head firmly, “No, not at all,” he put his axe from his shoulder and struck it deep into the soft earth, “I just never had enough coin to buy one.”

“Really?” you blinked in a stupor.

“How could I afford a bun when I can’t afford tinder for my fireplace?” The Axe replied, “I can’t afford such lovely things. I’ve always wanted one of these, but two? I can hardly believe my luck.”

He looked at the basket sadly, “I… I can’t take this. It’s… It’s too much. You’re being too good to me.”

“What?” you frowned and crossed your arms, “of course you can! I’m giving them to you!”

“But I can’t take such nice gifts for free,” The Axe complained, “you’re too kind and generous to waste such precious goods on someone like me.”

“Well, not really,” you admitted meekly, “I mean, I did forget your rations yesterday. Think of this as just something to make up for it.”

“But-”

“No buts!” you cut him off quickly and held up a finger to point at his chest firmly, “look, I brought you the buns because you deserve them. I mean, it’s fair, right? I forgot your rations yesterday, this is to make up for it. And anyways, they were probably not gonna sell. They’re old. I mean, well, maybe they would’ve sold, but who cares. I think you should have them.”

“Not sold?” The Axe tilted his head to the side, “but aren’t these the best buns in the village? Father Kim and judge Holten always tell me so…”

“Sure are,” you grinned briefly before frowning, “and as I said we probably would have, but we made too many again. If you didn’t take them, I’d probably give them to a farmer to feed their animals or something. That, or add them to Father Kim’s offerings. That’s probably how he knows they’re so good, actually.”

“Well, anything you give me is a treasure,” The Axe said softly as he took up the wicker basket. He looked around himself, but seemed to be at a loss.

“Is something wrong?” you asked.

“I thought I brought a bag, but the only one I have is full of firewood now,” he muttered, “I… Hm… Do you think you can wait a bit?”

You looked up at Luit and down at the horizon. You’d been out for a while already, and the thought of being out at night, alone in the Culling Forest, completely at the whims of nature and her crew… You shook your head.

“I really don’t want to be alone out here,” you said, “what do I need to wait for anyways?”

“I need to go back home and get a good bag for these,” The Axe replied, “it’d be a shame to get wood slivers all over these.”

“Why don’t I just go to your place with you?” you offered.

The Axe straightened up above you. His eyes sharpened in Luit’s light, ghastly blue in the pale hues of Densis’s-watch(4). He heaved his axe back up from the dirt and swung it over his shoulder with a dangerous grunt. You withered under his watch as he glared down at your shivering form, cold in the night and weak under his watch. You’d never felt so small before. Had you offended him? Had you maybe insulted his good nature?

You were about to say something when he held up a hand.

“That’s fine with me,” he replied hoarsely, “I just… I haven’t had visitors before. You’d be my first.”

“Your first? Doesn’t anyone visit you?” you asked.

“Not willingly,” The Axe replied, “nobody comes to me unless they absolutely must. Even Father Kim, good a man as he is, he avoids coming out here,” The Axe took a look around at the hanging bodies in the trees, “I can understand why.”

You watched as The Axe ducked into the shadows of the trees , only briefly checking over his shoulder to see if you were actually following behind him.

You trailed behind him quietly, letting him lead you him deeper into the woods.

—

The path creeped along the forest floor until it came to a small wooded grove. In the center, The Axe’s small rustic a-frame wood cabin stood tall among the shrubbery, framed on one side by a small vegetable garden and on the other by a lean-to wood shed. A small idol of Criah(7) had been mounted above his door.

“You know, you’re a lot closer to my place than I thought,” you muttered as you followed behind The Axe to his front door.

“My great grandfather fought for many years to build here,” The Axe said as he whacked his axe into a rotten stump.

“You guys had to fight to build here?” you wondered as you took in the glowing candle lanterns way up strung above you.

“Nobody wanted to live close to us,” The Axe explained bitterly.

He walked up to the door and briefly touched the head of the idol and muttered a silent prayer. Once he had given his thanks, he turned back to you and looked at the wicker basket in your hands.

“You can pass me the rations and I’ll bring them back inside,” he said as he opened his door.

You tried to hide the disappointment in your voice when you asked, “You’re not inviting me in?”

The Axe shook his head and nodded up at the idol, “It’s bad luck for anyone else to come in. I… I don’t know how much I believe in all those stories, but I don’t want to test it tonight. Not with you, at least.”

You looked up at the tree giant’s face, eyes painted like brilliant rubies shining wickedly in the dark.

“I don’t really want to test it out either,” you admitted as you opened your wicker basket for him.

It didn’t take long to pass The Axe his rations and get them into his kitchen. You were once again startled by how little he was actually allotted. He only got a single loaf and a handful of plain rolls. It was practically criminal to give the man so little. Half way through passing over the baked goods, an idea flashed through your mind.

“Alright, that’s the last of the regular rations,” The Axe said as he came to the doorway again, “I just need your ‘apologies’ now.”

You looked down at the mostly empty basket longingly. You went to pass over the bun, then paused. You looked up to him hopefully.

“Actually,” you said slowly, “I was wondering if maybe you’d like to eat a bun together.”

The Axe’s eyes shot wide open. His normally sorrowful eyes were wide and bright with boyish glee.

“You want to eat them with me?” he asked, unable to contain his excitement.

“I mean,” you shrugged and stepped out towards an overturned log, “I can stay out for a bit. I don’t have much to do tomorrow. Might as well enjoy Densis’s-watch, right?”

“Aren’t you worried about sharing a plate with Criah’s son?” The Axe slowly drew out of his dark home to stand in the light.

“Halax watches over me,” you smiled and sat down on the mossy seat, “I think I’ll be safe.”

The Axe followed you before sitting on the earth in front of you. You almost wanted to ask him to take off his hood to see the awe on his face when you fished around your basket for the buns. He looked practically euphoric as you passed him the sticky honey bun, wrapped in a parcel of parchment.

His thick fingers struggled to undo the twine, inhibited by his eager trembling. You almost had to laugh at how excited a man born of death and blood became over a simple honey bun. He looked less like a staggering colossus and more like a young boy shaking with unbound glee. He looked like he was unwrapping presents for the first time. You immediately sobered up on the thought that it was entirely possible that this was his first gift from outside his family. What a horrible, horrible thought.

He carefully held up the bun in his hands to Luit’s light. His blue eyes shine with unspoken delight as he slowly examines the treat in his hands. He looked at you, then back at the treat, then put it down sadly in his lap.

“What’s wrong?” you asked as you crossed your legs beside him.

“I…” he gestured vaguely to his face, “I don’t look very… Pretty.”

You snorted, “So? I look at my uncle every day; whatever you look like is bound to be a million times better.”

He shook his head gravely, “No. I assure you that what’s under here is far worse than you can imagine.”

You uncrossed your legs and leaned your elbows on your knees. Carefully, you turned to look at him properly, “You really think it’s that bad?”

“I know it’s that bad.”

You hummed as you drummed your fingers on your chin.

“You’re really not comfortable eating while I’m here?” you asked sadly.

“I just don’t want to upset you,” he wilted under your scrutiny.

You looked around carefully before your eyes lit up.

“I’m so stupid. Why don’t I just turn around?” you offered brightly.

The Axe glared at you, “How do I know you won’t peek at me? You’re not easy to trust.” 

You shrugged, “I think you’ll just have to trust me on this one. Also, I’ll be honest, you’re not too easy to trust either.”

The Axe’s stare was unwavering.

“I kept my promise before,” you pointed out, “doesn’t that speak for something?”

“It speaks to the fact you snuck out from under your uncle’s nose,” The Axe raised an eyebrow behind his monstrous dark hood.

You gave him a wry grin, “Well, if I didn’t, I would’ve broken my promise with you.”

The Axe shook his head tiredly, “I don’t think a pact with an executioner is worth a rift in your own home.”

“You’d be surprised,” you chirped.

The Axe observed you carefully. His watery eyes scanned you over once or twice before he chuffed, “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“It’s more fun that way, isn’t it?”

The Axe nodded from side to side with a disapproving hum. Instead of arguing, he simply sighed and said, “Well, turn around then. If you think a promise to an executioner is worth that much, then so be it.”

“It’s more than worth it,” you said as you gathered your dress to be able to turn around on the log. You picked through the basket to pull out a bun and pulled it out to take a small bite. You hummed. Even though the buns were a few days old, they were still as fresh as ever. You couldn’t help but wonder once more if your uncle had his oven enchanted. With how good everything that came out of it was, you wouldn’t be surprised.

You were brought back to reality by a small whimper behind you. You instinctively went to turn but caught yourself at the last second. The whimper came from behind again.

“Is everything okay?” you asked quietly.

You heard a thick swallow.

“It’s…” The Axe paused briefly, “it’s so sweet. I’ve never had something like this before.”

Your hands dropped to your lap.

“You’ve really never had a honey bun before.”

His hood shuffled softly as he shook his head, “No. I’ve only had honey five times in my life.”

“Five times?” you parroted weakly.

“Five,” he replied, “twice as a boy I had a spoonful of honey, once at my mother’s funeral I drank tea, once at my father’s I had honey mead, and now today I’ve had a honey bun for the first time.”

You could hardly imagine being deprived of such a basic luxury as honey. Not a single lick of the amber to cross your lips for years. How many years? You were about to try and figure it out when you realized a glaring issue in your data.

“Just how old are you, Axe?” you asked.

“I’m coming on twenty-two cycles(8) now,” he told you quietly.

“I’m coming into my twentieth,” you replied, “I can’t remember a time when I didn’t have honey with my herbs(9)”

You heard The Axe shuffle awkwardly beside you before letting out a long sigh through his nose. You could hear his hood shuffle again.

“You haven’t turned to look at me,” he whispered.

You looked up at the treeline encircling you both.

“I don’t really have need to,” you said as you admired the branches waving in the crisp wind, “I have so much to look at here.”

“What trees, boulders and orange blots(10)? You can’t be telling me that you find anything interesting over there,” The Axe teased you lightly.

“Well, I’ve never seen an executioner’s home before,” you explained as you looked at the lanterns wound through the trees before sloping over to the front of The Axe’s slanted roof, glinting like the stars themselves came down to grace you, “I don’t know if I’ll ever get another chance.”

You took another bite of the beetle meat bun. The meat was stringy, gamey, rich with fat that pooled into your mouth. A delectable treat for a simple baker’s niece, but not much for anyone else. It was strange to think that even this simple pleasure was beyond The Axe’s means.

The Axe took another bite of his bun, savoring each and every bit of the sweet treat. You listened to him turn again. He was silent for a moment. You wondered what a man like him could be thinking of, but he was quick to tell you himself.

“It doesn’t have to be the last time you come here,” his voice was nearly lost in the wind whispering through the trees.

The statement sat heavily between you both. The weight of his words hung on your shoulders, dragging them down to the leaf-covered dirt around you. The wind picked up briefly, sending waves of shimmering grass flowing through the clearing before it settled again. The metal lanterns clinked lightly above. In the distance, you could hear a spirit spook(12) chiming delicately in the breeze. It figured a man like him would need one by his home. You could only imagine how many had come to curse his name.

You looked up at the glittering stars above, winking at you from their place in the blackened sky. They seemed to stare down at you, interested in what your next move would be. A follower of Halax, a follower of life and creation, being welcomed in by a follower of Criah, a follower of death and grief. The gods surely must have been entertained by the show put on for them that night. To see two mortals sitting there, struggling against their fates like they had any chance to slow the weaving of the tapestry, as though their little fingers could undo the binding that had been formed long before they breathed life into their lungs; surely, there couldn’t be a more entertaining act under the cover of Densis’s(11) cloak.

“It doesn’t.”

You heard yourself more than you spoke. It was surreal to hear those two simple words pass your lips, and yet they hammered your souls together inseparably.

“It doesn’t,” The Axe repeated with a hint of excitement, “you could come again. We could do things together.”

“What sorts of things would a baker and an executioner do together?” you laughed sorrowfully. 

The Axe was quiet for a moment, then said, “We could talk to each other.”

“About what?” you asked.

“About whatever we liked,” he offered, “without the fear of others hearing.”

You watched the stars twinkle overhead approvingly.

“It would be nice to be free,” you replied.

“It would be,” The Axe replied, “we could say whatever we liked. We could honestly be ourselves. Nobody could tell us what we could and couldn’t say to each other. Nobody would stop us from being true to ourselves.”

You took another bite of the bun and let a drop of grease dribble down your chin.

“If nothing else…” The Axe said carefully, “it would be nice to have company.”

You nodded solemnly. The forest around you dimmed its nocturnal din to listen to you two lost souls pontificate together, pondering the possibilities of what could be. What would be, if only you let it.

“When would we meet though?” you asked, “and how could we meet? You know people in the village will start asking questions.”

“The cover of Luit’s light does wonders,” The Axe mused, “but I need to sleep. I can’t stay up late like this often. Neither can you. Your work is more steady than mine. I can… We can… You go to the local church, ja?”

You nodded slowly, “I go. I go often, actually. I need to deliver goods to the church regularly.”

“Then why not meet there?” The Axe offered, “under the watch of Father Kim. Who could possibly stop you from devoting yourself to the church?”

You smiled at the thought of meeting a follower of Criah in Halax’s home.

“Would you be welcome there?” you asked.

“Father Kim is a good friend,” The Axe replied eagerly, “he would be willing to find us a place where we can be apart from others.”

“Are you even allowed on church grounds?” you asked warily.

“I am,” The Axe sniffed, “any follower of any god is welcome in a holy sanctuary. I do not need to be devoted to Halax to be invited into her house.”

You shook your head bitterly.

“You’re barely given a seat at the tavern,” you said sternly, “how can Father Kim possibly allow you on hallowed grounds? Surely you’ve been banned? I know from talking to others that people like you are never wed in the church.”

The Axe sighed heavily.

“I am not allowed to wed there, yes, but there is a pew for me in there,” he said, “you don’t see it because I’m in the room below with the other forgotten people of the village. I am able to listen through the grate beneath Father Kim’s feet.”

“There’s a grate at his feet!?” you nearly turned around again to stare at him.

“Eyes forward,” he warned you before softening his tone, “yes, there’s a grate. There’s only a few pews in the basement, but we’re joined by the Sisters of Halax when we go. Maybe, if we go to church together, I can show you.”

You fiddled with your thumbs in your lap, the last of the bun now gone.

“It sounds interesting,” you admitted thoughtfully, “and you’ve been a good man to me so far. You’ve not done anything to hurt me. Actually, you’ve been nothing but good to me. You even protected me from any curses. You could’ve let me into your home, but you were kind enough to stop me.”

“I would never hurt an innocent person,” The Axe said swiftly.

You frowned at that. The Axe surely couldn’t be so simple, could he? The way he phrased ‘innocent’ had your hackles raised in your seat. Why would he specifically use that term? Was he truly a creature of the court? He couldn’t be so naive as to think that the justice system was completely without fault. No man could be that foolish, particularly not one so close to the action.

“Are you sure about that?” you asked warily, “haven’t you considered that an innocent man has been on your chopping block before?”

You heard the hood shuffle quickly behind you. It almost sounded as though he was shaking his head.

“I only execute the guilty,” The Axe said firmly, “Judge Holten only sends guilty men to stand or kneel before me. He is a good judge, and a better man. He may not like me, but I have faith in him and his abilities. He hasn’t let me down once before. I think you’ll find he has a faultless record. I like to think that he’s been blessed by the gods with insight and honor. So no, I am sure of what I said. Judge Holten would never send an innocent man my way. I have full faith in his convictions.”

You squirmed in your seat slightly, but said nothing to counter him. Something told you to try and contradict him would lead to a full blown argument. No man ever spoke so surely unless he lived and died by those very words. A part of you had the feeling that The Axe needed to live by those words. If he didn’t… You shuddered at the thought of what sort of man he would be.

“I assure you,” The Axe said to you gently, “I would never harm you. Again, I would never harm an innocent citizen. I am not a good man, but I am a just man. I am an honest man at heart. I wouldn’t harm a hair on your head if I could help it.

“Unless, of course, you were to commit some egregious crime of some sort,” his tone softened to a morose whisper, “please… Please tell me you won’t don’t do anything of that sort. I… I don’t know if I could live with putting a rope around the neck of the first person to treat me with kindness willingly. I don’t know what I’d do with myself.”

You reached back behind you and brushed your palm against his back soothingly. You tried to push the cold chill crawling over your skin down, blame it on the cool wind and the black sky, not on the words of a man who believed that justice could do no wrong. You didn’t want to think about his words, but you figured you might as well try and placate him.

“I assure you I have no plans to do so,” your face split into an uncomfortable smile, “but… Even though I’ve been kind to you, you would still execute me? Even though I’m the first to actually try and get to know you? The first to really try and be your friend?”

The Axe sighed, “I promise you that I would ensure your end would be quick and painless. Even if I was ordered to nip you with the tongs or screw your thumbs, I wouldn’t dare do that to you. I would never do that to someone I care about like you. I may not have known you for long, but what you’ve done for me in these past two days is more than anyone else in my entire life.

“I would not draw out your death for the court even if they begged me. I would ensure that you would go quickly,  honorably.”

“Then you’d take me out with that big axe of yours?” you asked.

“I’d ensure it,” The Axe promised, “I don’t know if you’re aware, I assume there’s rumours in the village but I might as well settle them here and now. Many generations ago, that axe was enchanted to be sharper, to cut more easily. It’s designed to cut through flesh, not wood. It was made to kill, not to maim like my firewood axe. I use my good axe to give quick deaths. Most people want to go by the sword, but I assure you that the axe is much better.”

“You don’t always give quick deaths?” you asked nervously.

“Sometimes I can’t,” The Axe shuffled awkwardly, “sometimes the court orders me to draw it out. Sometimes by using a duller blade like my firewood axe or the rusted sword, sometimes through a drawn out death, like the wheel or being stretched.

“I… I don’t like to hurt anyone. Guilty or not, I don’t care. I just want to ensure it’s done as quickly and easily as possible. I don’t like drawn out deaths, even if they’re asked for. I assure you I don’t. But if I don’t do it, somebody worse would. You understand that, right? At least if I do it I ensure that they suffer less than they could have by somebody else’s hands. 

“In my guild, you know, my career guild, I speak to executioners across the land. I’ve learned what those men are like, both from my own experience and through my own poor father. I witnessed these men and I can tell you that they can be vile. I hate to be among some of them. Many are like me, but some are…” The Axe bristled under your touch, “they are sick. Sick and rotten men. If there is one group of guilty men that walk free, it would eb them. I pray you never are unfortunate enough to meet such men in your life. You’d be blessed not to. Or, maybe, maybe I was cursed to meet them. That seems a bit more sensible.”

You closed your eyes and let out a slow breath. Of course The Axe would be honest. He was the hand of justice, he had to be righteous and true. He was expected to uphold the image of the court, even when being spat upon by the families of the deceased after lopping off their loved one’s heads. You’d seen him be slapped by old widows of hideous criminals, seen men try to strangle him over their wives’ bodies. He took all these beatings calmly, stoically, like the perfect picture of the court. He’d let them hit him and curse him until they went to far, and then he’d throw them back to the earth and let them scurry on their way. You could only imagine how their hatred was burned into the very essence of his being.

And yet, The Axe took it all without a single stumble. He uttered no more than a grunt when a man tried to stab his gut. He only tossed the blade aside and thrown the man down, then lowered his axe above his chest. You’d seen the man falter, look up at those impartial eyes and realize what he’d nearly done. If anything, The Axe could be an entirely merciful face of the court.. He was the perfect executioner. If nothing else, that much was about the only good thing regularly said about him in the village. He was the perfect face of the court’s axe. Impervious to suffering, yet compassionate enough to let them take out their rage on him.

But, at the end of it all, he was the source of their rage. Sometimes, sometimes it was for terrible reasons. Terrible, terrible reasons indeed.

“You torture too,” you whispered as softly as the wind blew through the long dead grass.

“I must,” The Axe replied swiflty.

“Do you…” you shuddered at the question, “you don’t like doing it, do you? You said you don’t, but, what do you think when you do it? How do you feel about it?”

The Axe shivered under your hand ferociously.

“I hate doing it,” he admitted bluntly, “were I born any other man I could bring love and joy into this world the likes of which could change the very soil we are born from. I can try to be this force when I help heal wounds of the injured and maimed, but there’s only so much I can do. I was born of death and I am shackled to it forever,” The Axe sniffled slightly, “but if given a chance, I would throw down this axe in an instant and I’d heal the unfortunate for the rest of my life. I’d devote to my father’s studies, learn the herbs of this land and save the wretched from the hands of the grave. I would be good. I would be pure, of heart and soul and mind alike.”

You frowned, “You heal wounds? You’re joking. You’re an executioner; you’re a killer, not a healer. You can’t really be trying to tell em that you are a healer.”

“When the apothecary and the doctor cannot set broken bones or suture wounds, they call upon me,” The Axe explained, “I have… I have a great deal of experience in mending great wounds.”

“Wounds you inflict?” you asked, unable to hide the sharp cold edge to your words.

The Axe flinched as you drew your hand into your lap.’

“Forgive me,” he whispered, “but it is not my choice to be this man. As I said, were I anything other than this, was I born of any other man, I could sow the earth with good seed and save the damned. I sometimes think that if I had another chance, I would’ve been like Father Kim and given my body to one of the gods. I think that I was always destined to follow Criah, but maybe I could’ve helped those families grieve. I could’ve cured the sick of their afflictions, I could’ve been good.”

You took in a deep breath, holding it in for a count of four before letting it all out slowly. He was an executioner, he was a torturer, and he was a medic? On top of it all, he had dreams of being a holy man, though no church would ever welcome him into their arms. No man like him could ever be forgiven. And so, to reconcile these parts was to find beauty in dung, but you tried to do so regardless. You supposed he was also known as one of the chief morticians of the town as well. You’d heard plenty of stories of how he’d been whipped by widows in the middle of funeral ceremonies. Sometimes, he was supposed to be burned for as many crimes as the victim had committed. You could only imagine how many scars covered his body by this point in his life. Supposedly, to maim the man who’d been ordered to kill your loved ones was to give some sense of grievance to the family. It was meant to help them heal from the loss. You only hoped that Criah approved.

“It’s not your choice to do it,” you admitted, “I don’t think any sane person would choose to live your life.”

“As I said before, some do,” The Axe interjected harshly, “and it’s those men that I despise.”

You shuddered at the thought. A large hand settled to warm your shoulder.

“I am not one of those men,” he assured you, “and I never will be. You have my word on that. Not just as a man, but as the axe of the court. I swear to you I am not, never have been, and never will be that sort of man. I am a monster, but I’m a monster of men’s making. I was not born of corrupted flesh.”

“And I have your word as the axe of the court?” you asked shakily.

“My word and my heart,” he replied gravely.

You sighed, ever so slightly relaxing. It figured this conversation would come eventually between the both of you, but to be able to have his word so gravely was a comfort, at the very least. However…

“I want your soul in your promise too(13),” you said quietly.

The silence that came forth was sharp and twisted your insides with a rusted blade. He seemed to meditate on your words as they whispered around you, echoed back by the trees and the calls of nocturnal songbirds. The forest floor creeped and crawled with detrivores, with his kin. You watched as a centipede crawled out from a decaying leaf, curled around slowly before descending back underneath the leaf litter below. How you wished to join those small creatures. A part of you wished to die there, to not have to live in the silence that followed your ask.

You felt tension rising in the air. Pressure collapsed inwards, you saw the candle-lit lanterns flicker above with some unseen, unfelt force. No wind blustered, no frog croaked. All was still to listen to this deathly child’s answer.

“My soul is yours,” The Axe finally said, “I swear upon my soul that I am not a man who enjoys torturing and maiming like a lowly animal. I am a man of Criah. I swear to honor the dead and dying until I too join their ranks. I will not enjoy taking even the most heinous criminals to their graves. That is not the sort of oath I’ve made to my god. No matter what, no matter who or what they are, I promise that I never take delight in harming another soul.

“I should like to help them, if possible. One day, I would like to put down this axe once and for all. I’d like to spread peace and life. I wish to be a doctor, or maybe a cleric of the church. I know that such a wretch as myself is not welcome, but if given a chance I would like to save others that have been damned from birth like myself. I truly wish to break these bone shackles that chain me to the grave. I wish to rise above and see life prosper. I…” he hiccupped under his breath, “I wish to be good. I want to be a good man. I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore. I hate this life I live, but there’s nothing I can do to escape it. Nobody will train an executioner’s son. I was damned from birth, but if just given a chance…”

You smiled faintly.

“Is your hood in place?” you asked.

“I finished the bun a while back,” The Axe said, “it’s in place. Why?”

Without another word you turned and hugged the giant man with both arms. He stiffened at the touch, but soon his ice melted and he embraced you back.

When you pulled away, you could see a shine of tears in his eyes.

“Nobody has ever listened to me before,” he said quietly.

“I think more people should,” you replied, “you’ve a reputation as an honest man. You’ve been nothing but good to me, and never have you given me a reason to think you’re lying. I may not know you well, but Axe, I want to. I want to see the good man you can be.”

“I want to know you too,” his voice warbled behind his hood.

“Then we’ll know each other,” you promised him, “and we’ll be friends. We will be better together.”

“But how?” The Axe asked sadly, “when will we next meet? How can we next meet?”

You thought carefully. Your fingers drummed a steady pattern on your thigh as you straddled the large log. You kicked your dangling feet before pulling yourself to sit beside him properly.

“I think we can meet at the church,” you replied, “I can say that I’m seeing Father Kim and visit you as well. I still need to see Father Kim, of course, but maybe I could make time for you too.”

“But when?” The Axe asked mournfully, “now that I know another’s touch, I can’t bear to be apart from you for long.”

“We won’t be,” you assured him as you soothingly touched his arm, “I have to bring in the weekly rations on the first of every god-watch. I do so halfway during the eighth watch every wake.”

“Halfway through the eighth watch on Halaxwake?” The Axe asked you desperately, drowning in possibilities.

“Halfway through the eighth watch on Halaxwake,” you confirmed, soothing him with your soft smile.

The Axe scanned through his mental list, you could see his eyes searching side to side as he sat scouring his mind for any possible conflicts, but soon he turned to you with a mirthful crinkle in his eyes, “I think I can manage that.”

“It might not be very long, but I promise you I’ll make it worthwhile,” you assured him.

The Axe shook his head, “Don’t be sorry. Any time with you is a breath of life after drowning alone for so long.”

You frowned and held his hand tightly.

“I don’t want to go back,” you admitted, “I wish I could stay here with you.”

“But you must,” The Axe told you, “if you stayed, it would be a worse fate for both of us.”

“I think my Auntie might drop dead of shock if she knew I was here with you of all people,” you chuckled, then glanced at Luit falling down into the horizon, taking with her Densis’s cloak of stars, “I need to get back soon.”

“How soon?” The Axe asked.

“As soon as I can,” you admitted.

The Axe looked around briefly, then stood and urged for you to follow him. He brought you out back behind his home to a small ramshackle stable.

He clucked his tongue, and a soft chittering noise came from within the singular stall.

“Meet Hunter,” he said gently as he opened the stall door for you, “she’s my riding beetle.”

You looked in the stall to find a massive beetle. She stood on six tall spindly legs and stared down at you from atop an even longer neck. Her sharp mandibles clicked as she slowly woke and stared down at her new visitor.

“You have a riding beetle?” you wondered aloud, “I thought those were a luxury! Or, well, that’s what my uncle says whenever I tell him to get one.”

“When I had to travel to other towns for work I put in a request to the council,” The Axe explained, “I expected a rejection letter, but a pigeon told me I’d be getting a beetle. She’s young, I had to tame her myself and she was quite the handful, but they gave me a surprisingly fine beetle in the end.”

“She looks like a stalking beetle(14),” you looked up at her, her little black head at least ten feet above yours while bent.

“She’s part stalking beetle, yes,” The Axe said, “but she’s also part station beetle(15).”

“How’d they get that mix? Wouldn’t they eat each other!?”

“I wouldn’t know, I’m no beetle breeder, but Hunter’s been a good friend to me through the years,” The Axe said as he saddled her up, “now come on, we don’t have much time before the first collection-vigil(16).”

You hissed at the reminder and grabbed The Axe’s hand to help haul you up onto the beetle’s back. You scrambled and slipped across the smooth carapace but soon managed to sit yourself in front of the large man.

“Not used to riding beetles?” The Axe asked as he set off towards the mill.

“My uncle refuses to get one,” you explained, “I want one to pull a cart to town though. Walking can take so long sometimes.”

“Well, Hunter could do that,” The Axe mused, “but she might be fussy about it. I also think using a court-approved beetle to draw a simple wagon wouldn’t go unnoticed either. I can only imagine the outrage when you show up with my beetle pulling your wagon.”

“Well,” you sighed as you settled your back against The Axe’s chest, “a girl can dream.”

The Axe chuckled, “That she certainly can.”

Luit - The Moon, often called the Older Sister

Lui - a small asteroid orbiting Luit, often referred to as the Younger Sister or Luit’s Servant

Winterwood - A species of deciduous tree that grows in the north. Known to be quite a soft wood, it grows quickly and is often used for furnishings of a home. Its cheapness adds to its versatility. Earned the name ‘winterwood’ for how pale the wood is (almost resembling the snow) and how it begins growing in winter.

Densis’s Watch - The way of saying night/night time. Opposite of Brak-hah’s-watch, which means day/daylight

Wormglow - In older times a brilliant worm(6) was strapped to a stick or put in a glass cage and used to light the night. These days, most people use an enchanted piece of metal on the top of a stick or in a glass lantern to be able to see in the dark. Most people fashion the metal to resemble a brilliant worm, partially to stay true to the origins but mostly to enhance the glow. 

Brilliant Worms - A twelve centimeter long caterpillar that grows a brilliant yellowish-green colour when they are feeding or communicating to other brilliant worms. In older times, they were captured and starved during the day to be fed at night. Over time, the practice was considered cruel, and by this time it has been phased out almost completely

Criah - God of death, grief, hope and forgiveness. Also known as the Weeping Father or the the Howling God.

Cycle - A year. One cycle consists of four turning times (seasons). Each turning time is broken up into two moons (months). Every moon has five god-watches (weeks) composed of ten wakes (days) broken into 10 watches (hours).

Herbs - Another way of saying tea in this world

Orange Blots - A large orange and black-speckled squash with a notably soft and delicate white flesh. Used for soups or deserts, much like a pumpkin.

Densis - Goddess of night and dreams, wife of Criah

Spirit Spook - Sounds like a wind chime. Used as a way to ward off evil spirits from the lower realm and keep away bad luck. Has varying results.

Soul - Soul is the reason that things be. The reason rocks atomically are structured as rocks, the reason lightning crosses the sky and lands in one spot on the earth, the reason men laugh and dance and sing. Soul is most powerful in living beings (though everything in existence has soul), but even then some life has more soul than others. Mammalian species like dwarves, gnomes, elves and humans, for example, have much weaker soul than that of plantkin and much weaker mushroom folk. However, they have stronger soul than the chiton clan (insect folk). In this context, to swear a promise upon your soul is to bind your very being to the promise. Some mages will go so far as to enchant their words to keep these promises, but most cannot do so, and thus just say it to convey the most important promises.

Stalking Beetle - A black and red beetle (sometimes white, black and red or white and black) with a long, long neck and a pointed snout. Looks somewhat like a giraffe weevil with a more articulated neck (think like a snake). Excellent hunters. Are very dangerous in combat because of their long necks, sharp mandibles and good eyes. Can fly short distances, but not commonly. Very spritely and difficult to train for their energetic nature. Used by members of the court or light infantry. Known to be expensive to keep. Thankfully, Hunter is more herbivorous than most due to her cross-breeding  and is thus cheaper to feed. Naturally carnivorous, trained to be omnivorous in captivity. 

Station Beetle - A pretty drab looking beetle, usually brown or black (rarely albino white). They are slow but steady beetles that make up a good portion of riding beetles. There are a few subspecies, but most look like either big dung beetles or flour beetles. Usually very good natured. Has poor eyesight but excellent smell and can be trained to follow scents from town to town. Can fly medium distances when provoked. Often used by countrymen to travel from town to town, almost like small cars. Though called station beetles, typically are only for transporting a family and not for hauling carts or stations. Mostly herbivorous. 

Konig Dump

Alternate Universes

Part Two

[mjolnirswriststrap]

Executioner | Renaissance AU

Summary: Natasha is the king’s executioner. What plot? Just smut.

Natasha x f!reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Read at your own risk, panties definitely came off in this one, beheadings.

Masterlist

You knew you shouldn’t have been in that tavern after curfew. Some of the local women whispered about meeting to discuss steps to improve living conditions in your village. You thought it was worth trying. The king had no intentions on helping the starving women and children. The draft had taken every able bodied man, leaving your people devastated. None of you expected the kings men to burst in. You wouldn’t have gone if you knew what you’d be charged with.

You can’t see anything as burlap sack was roughly crammed onto your head. Desensitization wasn’t a new tactic, pigs for slaughter were treated this way. If you can’t see how close death is, you’re less likely to freak out. You stood there shackled to a girl on both sides of you, shaking in fear, using your last moments to pray. If you tilted your head just right you could see out of the bottom of the sack. A pool of red creeps towards your toes, and you hear the swing of a blade yet again. The only thing louder at the moment is the scream of the girl ahead of you, she knows she’s next. Your arm is jerked forward as the shackle is unlocked, separating you from the crying girl.

You close your eyes as you begin to pray, what king would do this to his people? You didn’t do anything wrong, the village only wants food and clothes for the winter. You knew why he didn’t favor your village; you didn’t export any goods. No crops, linen, or cattle were given to the castle. The women needed everything just to keep their children and elderly alive.

The blade makes contact with the wooden bench yet again, and you begin to shake. You won’t cry, you won’t let them have the satisfaction. They can take your life but they can’t have your soul. You had no reaction as the sack was pulled from your head. Your eyes squint to adjust to the sun. Standing in front of you is a tall man, so broad he shields you from the crowd of onlookers. He starts fiddling with your shackle and you look around him, seeing that you’re on a high wooden platform in the middle of the capital. Hundreds of subjects crowded around, waiting for the next beheading.

You catch a glimpse of red hair behind the man, but he jerks you forward before you can get a better look. You pad forward, and the crowds chatter becomes clearer “treasonous bitch!” “Witch” “this will teach you!” ”long live King Stark!”. You couldn’t help but to laugh out loud. They really thought the king cared for them. They could be on this chopping block next, they’re too deluded to see it. You start giggling louder, and louder and it draws the attention of the red haired woman.

“Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.” You tilt your head to the side and see a short woman, black robes covering her, a large hood pulled halfway up. “I am being prosecuted for being a woman. This is already harder than it has to be.”. How sick, the king making a woman execute other women. You looked into her eyes, knowing they’d be the last thing you ever saw. She was beautiful beyond measure, fair skin, full lips and large green eyes stared back at you. The woman is frozen in place, never having had a stand off with a person she was about to execute. You lean down, the blood of the innocent girl tickled your cheek. Closing your eyes you inhale the scent of rust and mud. Taking a deep breath you wait for your execution, unwavering.

It never comes, a loud explosion shakes town square. You’re thrown from the chopping block, landing on the hard dirt. Screams erupt and you feel feet trample over you. A large man steps right on the hand balancing you, causing you to scream out in pain. You coddle your sore fingers like a cat licking its wounds. You crawl under the wooden structure used as a stage. Hiding from the crowd who were willingly going to chop your head off moments earlier. You look up between the cracks and see the red head woman scanning the crowd, searching for you. “Tell the kings guard she’s gone. The explosion gave her cover for escape.” She whispers to a man in all metal armor.

The crowd has finally dispersed and all you can hear is the dripping of blood, the woman’s deep sighs as she paces the platform above you. You’re too scared to make a sound, knowing your cover could be blown at any moment. You feel a tickle at the edge of your hairline, you quickly swipe at what’s bothering you. A spider crawls up your hand causing you to wince, shaking it off. Your eyes dart upward, in hopes she didn’t notice. Except you can’t see her anywhere between the cracks. You lean forward to get a better advantage point and still, the platform is void of any person. Sitting back down on your feet you take a deep breath, maybe you’re finally in the clear.

A blade is pressed to your neck before you can exhale. A hand snakes its way around your waist, traveling upward along your front, securing your arm and neck in a tight lock. “Thought you could escape?” She breathes in your ear. Your heartbeat fastens, “Please, you don’t understand, I’m innocent. I’ve done nothing wrong.” You plead as she tightens her grip on you. “That’s what they all say. But not everyone was found gathered under a full moon, whispering about a kings downfall.” You furrow your brow, full moon? You’d never gathered with anyone under a full moon, you were no witch.

She pushes you forward, your face hitting the ground, billowing up a cloud of dirt. “You’re mistaken miss, we met to discuss rations, create a plan on how to survive the winter, I would never knowingly gather under a full moon.” You wiggle as she straddles your ass, pushing against her as she shackles your hands behind your back. “I thought I was being executed for conspiracy not witchcraft.” You writhe more underneath her, grasping her wrist, you hold her there as you plead for her mercy. “Please, I am not what you think. I’ll go far away, you’ll never see or hear of me again. I’ll never return. I swear it upon the Lord.”

The woman stares at her wrist in your hand. Your words completely muffled to her. She looks at your rode up gown, lace garters around each of your legs. She pulls herself away, kneeling beside you. You start shaking in fear of what is to come next. She places a hand on the back of your thigh, slowly feeling her way to between your legs. “If you want me to let you go free, you’re going to have to earn it, witch.” The woman laughs to herself. You squeeze your eyes shut as you realize what she means. “What do you want from me?” You cry out. The woman flips you over onto your back, she leans down looking you right in the eye.

“Make it worth my while, and I’ll escort you to the city limits myself.” She smirked on top of you. You look into her eyes, she was too beautiful to be this wicked. Something happened to make her this way, you’d never know. Your survival instincts kicked in before you could protest. Pressing your lips to hers you eagerly run your tongue against her bottom lip. She takes the opportunity to feel your breast, massaging them behind thick dress linen. You pull away as a strange feeling builds inside of you, you’d never been with a woman so you didn’t think you’d get anything out of this. But the feeling of her hands on you, ignited a flame deep inside, causing a throb to wreck your clit.

“You like that?” She asks with hooded eyes, pinching your nipples in the process. You sharply gasp, the feeling of wetness pooling between your thighs. Your back arches off the ground as she slips her hand under your dress, the feeling of her hand on your bare skin, burning. She feels her way up to your right nipple, pinching it unbearably hard, you yelp. “Answer me, witch.” She says. “Yes, ms?”

“Natasha, not that it matters.”.

Natasha lifts herself to her knees, looking down at you, your dress pulled up, thrown over your shoulder as your chest is exposed. “So pathetic, begging to run away like that. So small underneath this thick fabric,” she places a finger on your navel, drawing a line down, running it between the folds surrounding your clit; stopping when the tip of her finger slips inside of you. “So wet, and I’ve barely touched you”.

You bite your lip so hard you taste blood, you couldn’t help it as she gently stroked her finger in and out of you. You raise your hips off the ground practically begging for more, “Please Natasha, I’ll do anything, just uncuff me.”. The red head throws her head back laughing while she adds another digit, going deeper than before “I don’t need to do that to get what I want.” You press your head into the ground as you adjust to her thick fingers, the burning stretch and the slow pace causing your legs to shake, a wet soothing feeling stopped the shaking as soon as it began, you looked down to see Natasha staring up at you, her tongue moving in slow circles around your clit. “Don’t stop.” You plead.

As if she was getting off on torturing you, she stopped instantly, pulling her hand from you. “I don’t want you getting the wrong idea,” Natasha says, pulling her black robe over her head. “This isn’t for your pleasure, it’s for mine.” She says, freeing the ties around her waist. Her undercoat falls down, exposing a hairless pussy. She throws one leg over your waist, diagonally straddling you. “I had to make you want it, no one wants to ride a sleeping bull.”. She spreads her lips, pressing herself into you, the feeling completely foreign, everything she’d done up till now, a man already had the privilege of doing before.

Natasha rolls her hips, perfectly gliding against your clit. It felt like a warm kiss, wet and desperate. You whine, wishing you could touch her, hold onto something for leverage. You couldn’t move as she fucked you, you’re completely helpless besides being able to wrap a leg around her waist. It did nothing to move you, it only made her grind harder against you.

A strangled moan leaves your lips as she starts rocking against you with a new pace, it was gonna make you cum if she kept going. A rubber band inside of you was being stretched past its limit and was about to snap back. At this point you thought, she has to be reading your mind. She slowed down, throwing her head back as she barely lifted herself, just to slam herself back down. She did this over and over again till you were sore, you needed release.

Natasha wasn’t thinking about your release as she crawled up your body, sitting on your chest. “If you make me feel real, real good. I’ll even get you to the next town, deal?” You nod your head before thinking. She quickly grabs a handful of your hair, “What did I say? Speak when spoken to, witch.” “Deal.”

She strokes your face, admiring your features before she makes a mess of them. Soft eyes search hers for answers, but nothing would prepare you for how gentle she was. Natasha lifted her hips, ghosting her center past your lips, causing you to crane your neck to reach for her. She was practically dripping into your mouth as you reached your tongue to take a practice swipe. She was so soft, like rose petals that tasted like ‘more’; you wanted more.

You tilt your chin forward latching your lips around her core, creating a suction while your rolled her clit around the tip of your tongue. “Fuck yes, keep doing that.” Natasha praises you from above. She miraculously keeps herself still, not abusing your face like she did your bottom half. You liked the way she sounded, light and raspy, searching for a breath. It kept you going while you explored her every inch. You lapped up wetness as it dripped from her hole, rimming the hole with the tip of your tongue.

Her body reacted the best to your flat tongue, licking long thick stripes over her clit. It made Natasha jerk her body forward, causing your nose to stimulate her even more. “You’re doing so good baby, just a little longer.” You couldn’t help but use the praise as fuel to keep going. The sight of Natasha writhing in pleasure makes you needy. You feverishly rub her clit as you breathe hot breath onto her.

Natasha grips your hair as she finally takes hold of the situation, she grinds her hips down, fully pressing herself on your tongue. You can’t keep up as she tries to climax. Her hips going at a pace your jaw isn’t accustomed to. You close your eyes as you feel her jerk forward, slowing herself down, she writhes on your face.

You gasp for air as she stands, throwing her robe back over her head. You lift yourself to your knees, letting gravity pull your dress down. You do nothing but await your release from the chains that bind you. You did what she asked, you just wanted to be freed, you needed no escort to the edge of town or the next village. “Please, uncuff me now, Natasha?” She gave you a pitiful look as she tied the straps to her undergarments.

“Oh honey, did you really think I was gonna let you go free?” She walked towards you, bending over to match your eye line. “You’re dead as far as the king knows, a crowd never lets a criminal get away. You just got lucky with the explosion.” Confusion clouded your brain, what was she going to do, if not turn you in? “What?” You say, knowing whatever she had in mind was better than execution.

“You’re coming home with me, witch.”

[royaltea000]

BG3 but it’s Yharnam’s Gate 3

[fishyvamp]

I am reading up on pyramid head for a fic I'm currently writing trying to nail him down and have come to the conclusion that the only thing that can be agreed upon is that what he is (physically) and what he he really looks like is completely up to personal interruption and where the money is. He was originally a manifestation of James's guilt, until he wasn't for the sequel. His steel frame is his head until the creator changed his mind and says it's a helmet. That thing on the back of his head is flesh and a piece of his body but not his head, but it might be a hood and made of cloth. The remake most certainly makes it look like a hood and not a fleshy sack unlike the original where it does look like a ball sack. Doesn't help that his clothes are skin toned.

All this to say I will apologize to the Silent Hill fans who might stumble on the dead by daylight smut I am writing if he isn't what you head cannon. This guy is a blank canvas and am going to paint all over him.

And let him paint all over my back. What... who said that?

[fef-in-the-flesh]

I love lying and say I’m gonna post more again (I am so sorry😭)

Anyway here’s some REALLYYYY old Darkleer n Handmaid sketches (I really like these but the pixalation is killing)

I don’t know how to explain what I think their dynamic would be, but it’d probably be pretty funny

[fareehaandspaniards]

First me and the girls found out that egger has bigger Strength slider than fuckin Alfred and would easily overpower him in arm wrestling.. Then as we can see, the BOBER is becoming way cooler than Alfred the Golden Retriever (or was it labrador? either way the golden puppy Alfred you see often). What will egger take from Alfred NEXT? Headpats from Logarius? The prize spot for the best pecs?? Paleblood Hunter's ass????? WHERE IS THE LIMIT?

*reads the whole question*

...

OMG HEADPATS FROM LOGARIUS

[morwap]

THE EXECUTIONER

nav | m.list | m.list 2 | send a request!

♡ - smut REQUESTED BLURBS•DIALOGUE!

➸ nothing written for pyramid head yet! but i’m working on it check blurbs there might be something written or send a request!

[pettyprocrastination]

thinking about how executioner!König is absolutely ostracized by society. When not dolling out punishment or death he’s collecting corpses, both human and animal from the roads. He spends every day with the smell of death on his fingertips to the point that nobody will speak to him. Vendors will give him food, but dare not set it in his palm in fear of it being tainted by his touch (and them by proxy) he’s a job they all need (and often watch with morbid fascination) but nobody truly respects the man beneath the hood. 

Until a kindhearted nun smiles at him on Sunday, the lord’s day, and asks if he has come in search of worship. 

[blood-priest]

fuck. whatever. i hate drawing