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krypticcafe · 10 months

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any chance for dbd killers (especially myers) reacting to a partner who wants to take the relationship real slow? how would they take it? would they push, or be respectful? patience? bonus for cuddle time 💜✨

DBD killers w/a partner who wants to take it slow

rating: teen

character(s): GN!Reader, Shape/Michael Myers, Ghostface/Danny "Jed" Olsen, The Executioner/Pyramid Head, The Cannibal/Bubba Sawyer, Legion/Frank Morrison

warning(s): suggestive themes, canon-typical violence and behavior, language

a/n: pardon the unannounced hiatus, cue the usual fanfic writer life drama, gonna be dusting off the request box :]

Michael

Thank. GOD. He's not gonna say it, but Michael's beyond relieved because he's just not comfortable jumping into things, or anything at all. He likes consistency, not change, so he really needs the time to even just adjust to the fact that he's actually letting this relationship happen (no offense). Even the first time he let you live, he felt all irritated about it because it just felt wrong. But after he saw you leave med packs for him from time to time, lurk behind him while he was off chasing others, he started to grow a little more lenient towards you, much to your pleasure.

After you see the approval in his eyes, you're relieved, too. It's not that you thought Michael wouldn't take the suggestion well, it's that it was the first time you two were seriously discussing your relationship. Neither of you put a label on yourselves, you just both knew that you liked each other a little more than you did with other people. Kind of like a silent agreement.

But now you take confidence in knowing you can be as slow as you want with him, after all, you both have all of eternity to work it out, or at least until the Entity decides to do something about it. Though seeing as they haven't stopped you so far, you're probably fine for now.

It's a long time until you guys show any actual physical affection. The closest it's been is Michael getting revenge on people who use you as bait and grabbing your wrist to pull you to a safe spot while you help clean his gear during visits in between matches and lean on him or he holds you in his lap while sitting in comfortable silence (you've caught him falling asleep on a few occasions).

Expect it to take a while more if you guys actually want to get intimate, he's just too much of a 'business first' guy.

All in all, mission success.

Danny

"Like how slow?"

You should've expected this. While Michael is relieved, Danny, well, he doesn't take it as well. He's one of the clingiest of all the killers and makes it difficult not to be paranoid all the time of someone finding out. He's a hands-on type of guy and this... is kind of torture for him.

After some insistence and some pleading on your side, he'll give in, but it's not guaranteed. He has to resist his urges like some little kid trying not to open Christmas presents a day early. All day, every day, he's just thinking about smothering you in his touch, and it gets him frustrated (in both ways), so he has to take it out somehow.

You can literally see it in real-time when he's cutting through survivors like butter, not even bothering to act playful or make quips, just snarling and hissing at them like a feral cat. You make a mental note to give him a bit of something after the match, like a kiss or some cuddle time.

Other than that, he whines. A lot. Like it's so fucking annoying please make him shut up with a kiss or something, the killers can't stand hearing him bitch incoherently and you can only take so much of it as well. Also, he's a manipulative ass to expect him to be pushy and try to pressure you here and there.

It's kinda funny though, in a way you sorta conditioned him to feel even more euphoric when you do anything romantic with him. He's asking, no, begging for extra kisses, holding you real tight when you cuddle, and you swear you can feel him melting under your touch. Heart eyes and all, he's so obsessed with you.

Whenever you let him know you're ready to move things forward, expect him to be a little overexcited about it. Like if you finally let him get in your pants, he's gonna work you like there's no tomorrow, all that pent-up energy is flooding out the door.

I'm sorry, but you're literally caging an animal by asking *the* Ghostface to take it slow. He's only gonna get more hungry over time.

Pyra

Don't take this the wrong way, but I don't think he cares. Like he's fine taking it as slow as you want, it's not a huge deal to him, and really, he has no room for judgment outside of killing people. You'll ask and he'll respond with the usual metallic grunt and boom. Problem solved.

In all honesty, it's probably good to take it slow with him if you want a nice, loving relationship with him. Because of his lack of experience, fast-paced relationships might just be too much for him to deal with, but taking your time lets him process how it even works. Dates, kissing, and anything beyond that aren't in his area of expertise, nor did he ever expect it to be, it's not his primary purpose.

This allows him to welcome something new in his life for once beyond the mundane life of Silent Hill and the matches in the realm of the Entity. He's not used to actually having personal priorities, so the adjustment period progresses along with your relationship. He's quick to find out that he really likes physical contact with you, too.

Most likely you'll be taking the initiative with him, teaching him the little things you like to do like cuddling and holding each other close. He really likes that, being able to just envelope you and keep you safe and close in such a comfortable manner.

I don't he exactly has a concept of... 'horny', it's more of a hunger I guess? A hunger to be close and in your presence, so he kinda has times when he'll stick to your side like a big old scary guard dog. If you wanna indulge him a little, go ahead.

Yeah, I can't really say much for him other than it is what it is.

Bubba

He tries his best to be patient, he really does. Bubba's more than understanding about it, because he's already elated that you love him back in the first place! Though sometimes he just really wants to pepper your face in kisses and smother you in love, pick you up and swing you around in his arms, take you to some of the nicer parts of the Entity's realm, he almost forgets they all live in some sick game.

Horrible advice, but try not to be so... cute around him. I like to think he has cuteness aggression, so it's very hard to keep his hands to himself when you look so... so... nope, no, Bubba, focus, you're supposed to be chasing Ace right now- oooo but don't wanna just eat them up and make them yours!

He wants to do so much with you but it's kind of for the best to keep him from rushing into things. Even he's a little worried that he'll tire you out from his eagerness to get things moving. Hell, he even spooked himself when he found himself daydreaming about marrying you mid-match. He can't help it though, it's the southern love in him that gets him all antsy (he thinks you'd look very nice in a suit or dress if you're wondering).

Yeah, and don't think you don't know either, not when he's humming "Here Comes the Bride" while sawing up Kate in halves in front of you.

Oh, and you thought the wedding fever was bad? Wait until the baby fever kicks up. Since day one of falling in love with you, this man has been dreaming of church bells, vows, cribs, pacifiers, and all that. He's never told you it in full detail but you just know he does. Whether you want it for your relationship or not, he still loves you nonetheless.

Despite it all, you help remind him to appreciate what's in the moment, that you both have an eternity together in damnation to get to that point. So long as time and the Entity are on your side, he's more than happy to take things slow with you and he'll be sure to enjoy every moment you have together.

Frank

"You're joking, right?"

No surprise here either, Frank doesn't take it all too well. He's an impatient bastard and mostly thinks with his dick more than his head sometimes. To be honest, he never even anticipated getting into a relationship with you. He thought most of the survivors were annoying and unlikable in their own ways, he even found you irritating at some point just not as much as the others, or so he'd claim.

You try to explain to him why and unfortunately, it does result in a back and forth between you two, the other members of Legion even chiming in on your defense. It's until you point into his face that you both literally have forever in this endless hell so "what's the big deal about us taking our time" and for him to just think about it for a bit.

And yeah he does, but it takes a while for Frank to wrap his head around it. He's used to just getting what he wants, jumping into things headfirst, and figuring out the details from there. His whole philosophy defies normalcy, defies everything he hates about Ormond and the banal, suburban society it is. He lives for the rush, the excitement, the recklessness. Time and care in a relationship remind him too much of a "normal life".

But the others remind him there's nothing normal about where they are now. Hell, they get to wreak havoc and chaos in the trials, it's everything they dreamed of. Making a statement for themselves. And frankly (no pun intended), he likes you a little too much to let it go. So instead of rushing himself into things, he finds a new thrill in testing the limits. He teases you with lingering touches and suggestive remarks, leaves you wanting, craving just a little more of that.

He clicks his tongue, "I thought we were taking it slow?"

That little bitch. He's got you wrapped around his finger and you know it. But don't think you're the only one aching, no. Call him a sadomasochist because it's practically killing him too, how much he has to hold back. Yet it's such a rush, keeping his hands to himself and itching for the day when you let him do whatever. He. Wants.

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bloodcasket · 1 year

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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.

#silent hill x reader #silent hill #pyramid head #yandere x reader #yandere pyramid head #yandere pyramid head x reader #pyramid head x reader #pyramid head x you #the executioner x reader #the executioner #headcanon #yandere headcanons #slasher x reader #yandere slasher x reader #yandere slasher

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im-his-druidess · 5 months

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hi! its been awhile since I requested anything so yeahh, anyways i wanted to ask if youd maybe write for some nsfw headcanons for pyramid head or ghostface (separately) if you do this tysm

Sure thing! Mixed a bit sfw and nsfw 😉 (Reminder that these characters are based off the video game Dead By Daylight)

Ghost Face

Totally wants to make his own porn videos.

Groping you is actually one of his favorite hobbies so it's something you have to get used to.

Will definitely grope you while you are hanging from a hook.

Hides in lockers with you to dryhump you.

Takes a worrying amount of pictures of you. Some explicit and some mundane. Some even when you're asleep that you're not sure how he gets.

Loves chasing you around and stalking you.

Will spend a good portion of time just following you and giggling to himself over your obliviousness.

Sneaks up on you and will fuck you while your fellow teammates are just feet away.

He thinks it's a game to see how long you can stay quiet.

Thinks it's hilarious when you get caught, will tease you mercilessly about it, before killing said person that caught you for seeing you in such an exposed state.

Pyramid Head

Will bend you over the nearest available surface when the mood strikes him. in the middle of a chase or hunting other people he will stop and find you.

Doesn't mind taking you while others watch. Actually prefers that way so everyone will know you belong to him.

Is incredibly possessive.

Refuses to let you out of his sight most of the time and will hunt you down if you manage to escape his eyesight.

Doesn't see the issue with making you stand by him as he hooks your fellow survivors and friends.

Sometimes thinks you running from him is a "game". He thinks it's futile attempt but will let you continue to "play" just so he can expand the amount of time he has with you.

Fucks you in the basement an obscene amount of times because he deems it a "safe" area.

#The ghost face #danny jed olsen #the executioner #pyramid head #dead by daylight #horror franchise #video games #dbd headcanons #Dead By Daylight headcanons #The Ghost Face x Reader #The Executioner x Reader #Danny Jed Olsen x Reader #Pyramid Head x Reader

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morwap · 9 months

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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.

#pyramid head dead by daylight #pyramid head #dead by daylight pyramid head #pyramid head x reader #silent hill pyramid head #pyramid head x you #pyramid head smut #dbd pyramid head #dead by daylight the executioner #dbd the executioner #the executioner #the executioner pyramid head #dead by daylight smut #dead by daylight #dead by daylight x reader

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ghouljams · 8 months

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Okok idk if you’ve done anything for könig for the medieval au but I can think of no better role for him than the royal executioner. Given a wide berth by all as he is technically forgiven for his job of killing, but beheading a bound prisoner is hardly the stuff of legend, it doesn’t inspire the same awe in folk. König helplessly enamored with a soft maiden reader and well aware of the blood on his hands so he skulks after her, a looming shadow she can’t seem to shake.

I know there's another writer who has an executioner König that I fucking adore, which has made me hesitant to write him in that role. However it's such a good fit for him. My sister is very upset that I made König a hunter and not an executioner, and I have another ask about König being a king put up for our lovely Princess's hand in marriage(Ghost's big mad about that, ahhhh act 2).

But yeah I like König being big and scary, gotta keep the nasty boy nasty. So I'm gonna write something for executioner König

It started so simply, so plainly, that it could hardly even be called unremarkable. Forgettable, was perhaps the better word. König is sure you must have forgotten it, at least.

Executions are an exact science. If you can call it that. There is a certain way that things must be done to ensure that death has been achieved. Rule one: No drinking on the job, not after last time. Rule two: Always aim for the center of the neck, severing the spinal column ensure the pain doesn't last past what is needed. Rule three: Do not hesitate, self explanatory. Rule four: There will always be a lot of blood, it's best to get out of the way quickly once the ax has hit its mark.

König had been washing his hands of said blood in one of the water spouts around town, when he first saw you. Your eyes wide with fear at the sight of him. You looked like the sunset, something painted by the hands of God himself, so soft and radiant as you turned and fled. He looked after you a moment longer than it took you to disappear around the corner before going back to his grim work. He stripped off his mask to rinse the blood from that as well.

This was treated with wax, the blood and water sliding from it much easier than it did his calloused hands. He could never get all the blood off on his first attempt. Maybe he should wear gloves, but he could never feel the ax as well and leather stained. He ran one short fingernail under another to clean the congealing blood out and stopped. König turned to look down at you, your hands clasped together tightly, your eyes still sparkling with fright.

You held your hand out to him, and he tilt his head to look down at it curiously. The familiar scent and off-white color of soap, just a little piece of it resting on your palm. He was careful taking it from you, shaking the water off his hand before plucking it from your palm. Despite his best efforts to prevent you the displeasure a small puddle of red tinged water formed where the soap previously sat.

"Thank you," He mumbled, turning back to his work so he didn't have to see you wipe your hand off.

"I'm sorry," You told him, in so unfamiliar a tone he didn't think he'd ever heard one like it. Pity was something he was used to, executioners were often looked on with some form of it, but this- this wasn't pity. He turned to ask what you were sorry for, but you were already gone. Quick on your feet. Like a little rabbit.

You're jumpy like a rabbit too. Cute. Actually that part might be on him. You may have forgotten your kindness --did you forget? he hopes you didn't-- but König certainly didn't. He's keeping an eye on you. Moving unseen isn't exactly König's strong suit, but he can do it with the right motivation. Motivation like following you around town. He just wants to see you. Wants to see you smile and laugh and hear your sweet voice. Wants to see you interact with normal people without fear in your eyes.

He has to be careful though, the last few times you noticed him you tensed up. Breath held and hands clenched like that might prevent him from seeing you. Sweet scared little thing. Was it the blood on his hands that scared you? The violence he enacted? Was it his size, his strength, the heat of his gaze? Do you imagine his hands on your soft skin like he does?

Well, maybe not like he does. Your imagination is likely less... appreciative than his, more violent. Too bad.

That's exactly why he has to steal these glimpses of you. He doesn't want to frighten you, although you are beautiful even when you look on his in fear. You're so much more without him. To think music could ever sound as sweet as your laughter, that the sun could ever shine as bright as your smile. He tips his head to watch you, a wonder of divine creation, terribly kind in your every movement.

You crouch to help an older woman pick up a basket of heavy produce, wave off her thanks with a smile and settle the goods on a nearby stall. You pull a child out of the way of a cart, and wave at the driver without a speck of malice. Your kindness is rewarded in turn, an extra few apples for your coin, a warm slice of fresh bread for your walk, people stop you to chat with friendly smiles and kind words.

And yet. And yet he never sees you with anyone. Never sees you walking arm in arm with a friend or a lover, even a parent. You're alone in your crowd of kind acquaintances.

He can't follow you when you leave town. There aren't enough places to hide, not enough corners to stay shadowed behind. That doesn't stop him from watching you as you walk down the road. You don't go far, just far enough to find a comfortable place on the stone wall lining one side of the dirt path. You settle your shopping basket on the ground beside your feet and finally look back at him.

König's breath seizes in his chest. You're still so tense as you stare at him, as you unclench one of your tight fists and pat the wall next to you. He glances behind him to see if there's perhaps a friend of yours he'd missed. No, when he looks back you're still staring just as fiercely determined at him as you had been.

He's cautious with his approach, nervous as the way your eyes track his, your head tipping to accommodate his height the closer he gets. Until he's stood in front of you, your wide eyes still blinking up at him. You pat the wall again, wordlessly asking for his company.

"Are you hungry?" You ask when before he's barely sat down. König pauses, watches you bend to pull an apple from your basket. "You've been following me all day, you must be." You pull a knife from your pocket to slice the fruit and König holds out his hand.

"Let me," He tells you. You hesitate, staring at his -clean, he swears they're clean, he'll never dirty yours again- hands. You settle the apple in his rough palm and offer him the knife. König shakes his head, and grips the apple between his hands, twisting it sharply to break it neatly in half. He offers you one.

"Thank you," You offer him half of a smile, take the offered half and bite into it. Clean enough to touch your lips, König thinks. Or maybe you just don't care about the stains. "It's lovely out isn't it?" You make quiet conversation.

"You are," He breathes, and you bite your lip, your smile blossoming around your best intentions to stop it.

Maybe you were alone for him, to give him the space to get close to you. A rabbit baiting the big bad wolf.

#Spec is that you #könig x reader #könig fanfiction #könig cod #könig call of duty #könig #executioner!König #medieval au #Reader absolutely scared shitless of König: I gotta be nice to this guy so he doesn't kill me #König delusional: they're in love with me #cod x reader #x reader #könig mw2

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aceviscontiswife · 10 months

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Killers catching you crying/upset

I’ve been wanting to do some comfort type stuff for a while, so this is what my poll was for! Hope y’all enjoy!

Gn! Reader. Pre established relationship! Killers included: Danny, Pyramid Head, Wesker.

• Danny is used to seeing people cry from fear. He isn’t one to comfort, if anything, Danny’s the reason someone’s crying in the first place. He’s a murderer, not a therapist.

• However, when Danny catches you crying, it’s a different story. Why? What happened? Who did this? How the actual hell does he help you? Long story short, Danny hates seeing you upset.

• You’ve never seen Danny this concerned, or this confused. It’s clear he has no clue how to comfort you, but he tries his best. He’ll kneel down beside you and stay with you until he was sure you were alright. It was a side of Danny you’ve never seen, but not one you didn’t like.

• If it’s a survivor who’s made you cry; don’t worry, Danny will handle it. Once you’re better, Danny will teach that survivor a lesson they’ll never forget.

You had tried to last the entire trial without breaking down, but eventually you couldn’t hold back your tears any longer. You slumped against a tree, hugged your knees to your chest, and began to sob quietly. Danny was the killer this trial, you could always just find him, but you didn’t want to ruin his trial with your problems. Danny must’ve heard you, for it wasn’t long after you started crying that he kneeled down next to you and quickly removed his mask so you could see his face. “Hey… what’s wrong?” Danny asks in a tone so… soft, so concerned. It was like nothing you’ve ever head from him.

“I… it’s Nea…” You answer as more tears well up in your red, puffy eyes. Danny nods, wiping away your tears and pulling you into a tight hug, mainly so you wouldn’t see the flash of anger in his eyes at the mention of your teammate. “I’ll handle them once you’re better, okay?” You nod, and while you knew Danny was being sincere, you couldn’t help but ask “Are you sure?” To which Danny simply replies, “It’s what boyfriends are for, dollface.”

(I have never wrote for Pyramid Head before so I apologize in advance lol 😅)

• You’re… crying? That’s not something Pyramid Head likes to see, not at all. His first instinct is to make you stop crying, whatever that might take.

• While he can’t speak, Pyramid is good at telling you things through his body language. He’ll set his weapon aside and open his arms slightly—his way of saying “Come here.”

• He’ll pull you into a bone-crushing hug, his hands awkwardly rubbing your back as you cry against his chest. Pyramid will hold you until you’re done crying, and listen to any word you had to say. For something that spoke in garbled nothingness, Pyramid Head was surprisingly very well at comforting you.

• You’d tell him what had upset you, and if it just so happened to be a survivor, Pyramid Head would leave your side in an instant to go deal with them. He would return covered in blood, set his weapon aside, and allow you to melt in his arms once more.

You were somewhere in the deep, desolate forest of the entity’s realm, tears streaming down your face as you cried. You hadn’t even heard him approaching, startled when Pyramid Head suddenly appears next to you. He had laid his large weapon against a tree, his arms slightly open and waiting for your embrace. You didn’t say anything, you simply took a small step forward and wrapped your arms around him, laying your head on his chest.

Pyramid Head held you for a while, and it was only when your sobs began to lessen did he finally pull away. You knew what he wanted now; Pyramid Head wanted an explanation. “Gabriel was-“ You cut yourself off as Pyramid Head suddenly turned away, grabbed his weapon, and began making his way towards the survivors’ campfire. Was he going to-? Would the entity even allow that?! Either way, once you realized what Pyramid Head was doing, you couldn’t help but smile and wait patiently for his return.

• Unlike most of the killers, Wesker at least knows what he should say to someone who’s upset. Does he? No. Crying is a weakness, and Wesker can’t have that.

• But, much like Danny, Wesker does a complete 180 when he finds you crying. He never wanted to find you like this, and now that he has, he wants nothing more than to bring an end to your tears.

• You never would have guessed Wesker was good at comforting, but he was. He knew exactly what to say, what to do, and had you feeling better again in no time.

• If it’s a survivor who’s made you cry, you best believe Wesker will handle things. He’ll wait until he’s in a trial with them, and once he is, he’ll make sure their time with him is absolutely miserable. Wesker will teach that survivor a lesson, and it’ll work so well they’ll probably never speak to you again; out of fear of what Wesker might do if they hurt you again.

“Dearest, why are you crying?” You heard a familiar voice speak from behind you. You turn around to spot Wesker, staring up at him through teary eyes. “It’s nothing…” You lie, quickly wiping away your tears and sniffling. Wesker obviously didn’t believe you, stepping up next to you and resting his hand on your shoulder. “Don’t lie to me, y/n. What’s upsetting you?” You knew there wasn’t a point in lying again, so you tell Wesker the truth.

“Laurie was being really rude to me in my trials…” You admit, sounding more childish than you had wanted to. Wesker simply hums in response, resting his free hand on your other shoulder and beginning to rub them, easing the tension you had gathered from your earlier trials. “I’ll handle it, sweetheart.” Wesker assures you, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Don’t worry about a thing.”

#dead by daylight #danny johnson #ghostface dbd #ghostface x reader #ghostface x y/n #danny johnson dbd #albert wesker #dbd wesker #wesker x reader #wesker x y/n #albert wesker dbd #pyramid head #executioner dbd #pyramid head dbd #dbd

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pettyprocrastination · 11 months

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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.

#executioner!König #könig x reader #König x you #König x female reader #the priest is like. super chill because König comes in EVERY WEEK and hes like YES i KNOW YOU KILLED SOMEBODY WHATEVER MAN #but also said priest is most likely corrupt and gambles and takes bribes and shit. so he doesnt really give a fuck #but anyways. konig big soft for nun gal #konig x reader #konig x you #konig x female reader

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idkfitememate · 4 months

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Imagine Furina exploring the deeper parts of the Opera Epiclese, only to find tunnels between the walls.

These tunnels led to crawl spaces beside vents, they lead to small doorways and openings to different rooms and spaces, some places even she’d never seen before.

After wondering for a while, she came across one more room she’d never seen.

Surrounding her on all sides was broken down and shattered Meka. Meka of all kinds. Dancing, protecting, alarming… and some she couldn’t tell off the bat.

Some that looked like perfect replicas of birds and one that looked like an opera singer. Eel like Meka and others.

It was a room of abandoned Meka.

Old and rusted, decaying and ruined.

As she walked through, every now and then one would scream or twitch, causing her to jump and whimper.

She passed a window and was shocked when she saw she was beneath the surface. Fish swam by the window, and an otter even passed by, knocking on the glass.

What really scared her was when a Meka turned on for a second, music blaring from its mouth before it broke down again.

The only light was from the windows the pointed out into the water around her, giving off an eerie deep blue glow throughout the room.

And then she finally made it to the end of the room.

There sat a thin and spindly Meka. It was tall, dressing in clothes that were a mixture between a circus ringmaster and a jester. Under its top hat wearing head as a face that was halfway between the comedy mask and the tragedy mask. It’s legs ended on needle points, small almost invisible holes on the end.

The most terrifying part, however, was that on its chest was an open window, and the inside was entirely filled with water from the Primordial Sea.

To be clear, its midsection was thin, it was made in a way where it mimicked a starving person, seeing its ‘ribs’ through its skin. On its back you could see its ‘spine’ poking through its clothes.

It was rusted and its once brilliant blue, white and gold clothes were worn and washed out with tears in the fabric. Small chips and cracks riddled its metallic skin, but beyond that, it was in perfect condition.

No missing limbs, no missing clothes - as far as she could see anyway - and over all it just looked a little worn. That’s all.

But as she crept closer, something seemed to flip on inside the odd Meka.

“Gnosis Found. Start Up Sequence Initiated…”

The Primordial Water inside your chest glowed a bright blue as it began to flow through your body.

What the God thought was cracks were actually intricate flowing lines to show the Water flowing through your metal bones. Your mask creaked as the joints in your face warmed back up after years of neglect. The mask spun to the comedy side and pressed down into your head, hiding the tragedy behind it. Your eyes lit up in blue as the water filled your skull.

Your joints moaned as you slowly stood. Furina summoned her sword and pointed towards you, though her hands shook terribly.

As you stood, you easily towered at a height of over ten feet. The smaller could hear the liquid sloshing inside you.

“Startup Sequence Complete. Running Diagnostics… Running All Systems…”

She could now hear mechanical whirling inside you. Then, your head turned a full 360°. Furina yelped and fell the to floor, still clutching her sword.

Then your face did a 360°, the face turning upside down then back. Then it flipped, revealing the tragedy mask, then back to comedy. Your chest did a 360°, your midsection did a 360°, and your arms did a 360° at each joint.

The Water in your chest drained and your chest transformed, metal claps coming out from your back and creating a holding place on your entire midsection. The girl could hear multiple things going on inside, going from flames to something metal.

After a few moments, the cage slipped away back inside you. You raised a hand and watched are your already think fingers somehow became thinner. Then they slipped into your thin hand, and flames burst out causing the girl in front of you to scream. Sharp scissor-like appendages came out and snipped at the air. Finally, a few syringes came out and filled with some kind of glowing substance. Five syringes and five colors. After, your thinned fingers came out before thickening again, not that it made much difference.

You did the same to your other hand, and Furina just watched. While she was scared, at the same time she was slightly intrigued. Though, she kept her sword close to her person.

When you reached your legs, you did practically the same thing with your hands. Thinning, fire, needles- though there were only two - and then back to the needles.

Your body shuddered and small metal sheets pulled away on different parts of your body. Long metal tentacles slithered out. Thin and grey they moved in circles. A few had small claps that opened and closed, and some that suddenly flashed with Electro energy. The metal tubes slid back into your body, but a few more with needles slid out. They filled with the same liquids then slid back in, the metal plates going back into place.

“All Systems Functional. Scanning… Archon Located. Persona Downloading…”

You stood still for a moment and let the Primordial Water flow through you, then stood up straight as you were leaning before.

“Persona Downloaded. One Moment Please…!”

Your eyes lit up brighter.

You jumped, making Furina scooted back.

You did a spin, small wheels sprouting from your feet. Your hat spun off your head. You preformed a few hat tricks, before spinning the hat back onto your head. A cane launched from somewhere on your body and into your hand. You even did a little dance as you wheeled forwards towards the now extremely shocked Furina.

“Hello Mon Archon lumineux, lustré, d'une beauté aveuglante et décoré avec amour! It is I, your Exécution Entièrement Automatisée et Divertissement Meka! At your service!~♡”

Furina stared at you before your hand suddenly disconnected from your wrist, a metal wire connecting the two. It flew to her hand, careful of the sharp points and pulled her up. A soft tune played from your body as you twirled her around before falling to your knees before her.

You pressed your cold, metal lips to her palm, a comedic kissing noise playing out as you lifted your head.

“Happy to be of service once more, Madame la mer étoilée. ~♡”

Furina swore she could hear the crying of a child coming from your Primordial Water Filled Chest.

I had the idea a long time ago for an Execution Meka, and finally finished it! There’s inspo from everywhere in here. A little of Spinel from SU, some Mommy-Long-Legs from PP, a little murder drone (I don’t watch it but know a little), also some Pearl from SU, and a little FNAF in there as well (if I write anymore/if any gets requested you’ll know why!) ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

I don’t know, just thought it’d be interesting, plus I feel like if any Nation had something that was made/born specifically for some type of execution directive, then it’d be Fontaine.

Again, I don’t know why, it just feels right. Also I feel like the laws are almost like the Queens Rules like from TWST, a few that make sense, and many more that are absolutely bullshit, so mixing entertainment and execution seems right up that alley! ☆૮꒰ˊᗜˋ* ꒱ა

* My luminous, lustrous, blindingly beautiful and lovingly decorated Archon - You to Furina

* Fully Automated and Entertainment Execution Meka - You to Furina

* Madam star-studded sea - You to Furina

(If any of this is off, blame the translator, same goes for all fics I write that have something other than English!)

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #x reader #x gn reader #gn y/n #Executioner!Reader

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diejager · 19 days

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OMG FINALLY!! *muach muach* oh my actually I'm a bit nervous and excited now lolol. Uhm—well since your request is open can I have Pyra head and Michael Myers (separately) chasing survivor!reader in trial but they just ignore the other survivors, solely chasing reader till the end of game. Something dark and lustful lingers around those two killers and you just don't know why! By the end of the game, the other survivors manage to escape to the campfire safely, however reader got stuck alone with the killer. When they finally catch you, oh shall you know all your hopes may shatter to pieces. You think this is the end, in the hands of ruthless killer chosen by Entity. But why their face (in pyra head's case it's his helmet) getting closer to your face and what make it's more confusing something comes out of that mask (i.e. a long tendril similar to tongue). Breath kink but instead of hand choking or strangulation, you choked on their tongue 👅

Feel free to ignore this if you still don't open req for dbd fandom

☀️

You are feeding me ambrosia with this sunnie!!! I have a weak spot for both of them, but-but- the Unknown??? Any thoughts????

Cw: DARKFIC?(it’s dbd, what do you expect??), DUB-CON/NON-CON, predator/prey, implied death, obsessive behaviour, choking?, super long tongue??, size kink/difference, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 1.5k

You were… unlucky. The Entity seemed to rejoiced in your pain more than any other survivor, feeding on your dashed hope for an escape from the perpetual cycle death and sacrifice, the painful sting on being slashed, the horrifying fate of being killed by the killer’s weapon of choice or the terrifying agony of being hooked. It was a painful affair, being the subject of her perverse protection, locked away in her universe to feed and be fed, blood for blood —quid pro quo.

But at times, your moments in her dark world was warm and charming like the people who gathered at the campfire, sharing their skills and abilities to keep the others alive throughout the…trials. The small moments stolen within the fog to keep yourself up and going, and happy, little smiles and bubbly laughs. It made trials easier, to know that the people who were screaming and working had your back in and out of them, to know what they would do made working in teams better and reassuring.

And yet- and yet it was all for nought, the killer had eyes for you only, stalking and following you with his arm raised despite the others coming between you two to stop him from maiming you. Unfortunately, The Shape - Micheal Myers - in all his ghostly glory and dirty suit, was a creature of obsession, of predatory possession that gave him a one track mind, tunnelling the person who he chose as his obsession; and you happened to be his choice of madness these last round, even when Laurie was with you.

There were some pros and cons with his constant stalking, the quiet steps echoing not so far behind you while they worked on the generators, unbothered and safe fro Myers, but you were stuck kitting him, running away from him by jumping over windows and dropping palettes wherever you could stun him to give you just a few more seconds of distance. He grew so, so close on multiple occasions, you felt his breath and his dark and imposing figure behind you, but he never once struck you down with his big knife.

It wasn’t so bad as long as he didn’t hit you, letting you run around and avoid the other three until they finished all five generators and opened the gates, the bell ringing loudly over your head, and even then, he ignored everyone for you. He, somehow, managed to corner you, to far from both gates and your teammates who you - in a desperate plea for a win - had yelled out to leave and let you find the hatch or run to a gate if things got didn’t worsen. Which had left you alone, ears ringing and head beating against your cage, cornered and afraid of the giant who stared you down with a red gleam in the dark pits of his eyes.

Every step he took backed you up further against the rugged wall of a house - his childhood home - and pressed himself against you, the rough texture of his suit irritating your skin as he dropped the knife to touch you, running over his course fingers down your shoulders. Myers was scarily touchy, pads digging into the fat of your hips, groaning and grunting as he ground against you, drinking in your whimpers and hisses, fists hitting his chest without any result. Was it so surprising? He was a monster, a devil’s spawn, who had you in hands, a uselessly struggling victim that was too weak to stop him.

His game of cat and mouse came to an end, where you forgot what you were initially doing, choking around his thick fingers, the filthy taste hitting you harshly as his jabs. He pressed his fingers down the back of your throat, panting loudly at your gags and rutting his fattening cock on your navel. You shuddered at the feel of it, the thick bulge threatening to pop a button off his jumpsuit, and you feared, you were terrified at your wandering thoughts, the implication of it when faced with a beast like Myers.

Ding

Then the final call rang, a long and echoing sound that called the end of the trial. It was quiet for a few seconds, and all you felt was pain, agony ripping through you as The Entity swallowed you up with her many arms. The last thing you saw was Myers bulge, pushed to your bloodied lips and filling your dying nose with a thick and heady musk, a metallic and dusty smell that would linger on your tongue.

You had hoped that she would give you a second, let you bask in the worry and affection the other survivors gave you, her whispers summoning you elsewhere in a drowning cloud of black fog and sent into your next match, placed somewhere in Midwich Elementary School. The many winding halls and rusted metal worked to confuse the survivors and killers alike, leaving only a selected few who were familiar with this realm. You crossed path with James a few times, but you knew he wouldn’t have given an offering for this, it was a sore memory for him, a reminder of his sins and regrets. So that left a single open left: Pyramid Head, the wandering executioner in the halls of Midwich, sentient and brutal in his ways.

He was a monster everyone feared, something created from the mind of a tortured man rather than a human turned monster, he was born a nightmare and would perish as one. That’s why you hid whenever you heard the telltale sound of his rusted great sword drag across the floor, knowing he had chosen you as his obsession and was actively turning a blind eye to the other survivors. You heard a few screams here and there, but he hadn’t downed anyone, seemingly to prefer leaving them half dead and limping to the next generator or survivor to heal.

You were doing well, working with Jane on the third machine, smiling to each other and sending encouraging glances while you looked over your shoulders from time to time, but your luck had run out. Pyramid Head stumbled your way, his head bobbing over the thick cords of his shoulders and chest, sinewy muscles bulging with every move. You both ran, Jane up the stairs and you down the hall, and he followed you. It was a familiar feeling, being the chased obsession of a killer, singled out by him to be the victim of his choosing.

Unfortunately, The Executioner never truly relished in the hunt, prowling fast and hard, ready to kill whoever he crossed, yet, strangely, he hadn’t raised his great sword, chasing you down a hall and into a dead end. You were fucked. Oh so terribly fucked if your assumptions were right. You turned to face Pyramid Head, fearfully glaring at him, eyes scouring the open space around him for a small point to slip away. You felt your small star of hope extinguish when he suddenly appeared before you, moving faster than he usually would, blocking your way with his body.

He was hard and warm under your palms, his laboured breathing resting on your shoulder in his dazed wandering, his ripped and bloody and filthy arms brushing against yours and feeling you up. You closed your eyes in terror, trying your best to snuff out your thoughts and the feeling of his touches, his fingers pinching and kneading the skin of your hips and thighs, slipping behind to occasionally feel your ass bend under his strong hands. You whimpered, raking your nails down his arms, trying and failing to stop him from going forward with his wants, turning your head away from him.

It seemed like he didn’t like that, forcing a gasp out of you when a wet appendage lapped at your cheek, leaving a slimy trail of drool until you reacted to him, gaping and hissing at him; and he took your shock and disgust to his advantage, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You retched, throat closing around his tongue, thrusting slowly to the back of your throat and up to spread over your palate. He lathered your mouth in his drool, willing your smaller and less nimble tongue to push at him, choking down any cries or gags from the sheer disgust that filled your guts (despite the small spike of arousal in your guts).

You wanted to scream about your situation, this fucked up situation you keep finding yourself with monsters like The Shape and The Executioner. Why you? Why you out of everyone else? You weren’t as significant or strong and determined as other survivors, so it confused and worried you, if they would force themselves onto you again and again until they either broke you or moved onto another poor survivor. But perhaps- just perhaps you could make something of it, seeing the thick pole that poked at your stomach, poking from under his loose loincloth and wetting it with a dark spot at the tip.

You loathed The Entity and her plans.

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florestmoon · 2 years

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Can I please request Pyramid Head getting his first massage from his S / O? Like, he probably doesn't know what she's trying to do to him so he's a little cautious at first. But then he realizes how good it feels and quickly caves in. thank you very much. :)

Poor pyramid head always gotta be carrying that big ass knife and helmet…and a fatty so he deserves a nice massage <33

Everyone could notice the awkward position Pyramid Head was stuck in as he dragged the huge knife behind him. The way his body was bend backward at an angle that you knew wouldn’t be comfortable for more than a few minutes, while he was like that for most of the duration of trials.

So you had came up with a brilliant plan. A spa day! Expect instead of all the supplies that one would see in a spa, you only had your hands. And, instead of an actual spa setting, the entity only granted the creepy elementary school that he resided in between trials.

Okay..you can still make it work ?

Or maybe not, with the way this gigantic man was watching you struggle to move him. Helmet tilted as you huffed after another failed attempt to force him to sit down on the large desk that was placed in front of a classroom, directly in front of a chalk board.

“Can you please just..sit down ?” You sighed impatiently, hands gripping onto one of his forearms. Your fingers couldn’t even fully grasp his arm, while one of his hands could easily wrap itself around both of your arms and keep them secure.

The thought always brought a weird feeling to spread inside him. You being so small compared to him, just a tiny human while he could easily crush you in a heartbeat. But he never did. He never could. You were already too important to him.

Despite the amusement of watching you struggle to move an inch of him, he was a bit weary on why you had came to his realm in a hurry and insisted on him to sit down and “relax”. Why would he want to relax when he could be wandering the realm with you and holding your hand ? He found that relaxing.

But seeing a frustrated look on your face, he took pity and allowed himself to sit on the teacher’s desk. The wood creaking under his weight did nothing to stop the smile that crept on your face.

“Good! Now, please place that stupid sword against the wall..”

Sword? Huh.

He hesitated before reaching to the side and leaning his knife against the chalkboard before turning his heads towards you again. You nodded and pulled yourself onto the desk behind him, placing your hand on his helmet with a small “Nuh uh.” when he tried turning around to see what you were doing.

The positions was weird with you on your knees behind him as he sat at the edge of the desk. But with the size difference and the lack of anything else but desks in the abandoned school, you had to work with what you got.

“Look forward.” You demanded. “Trust me okay? You’re always walking around with that damn knife and I’ve never see you actually sit down..or even sleep? Does your body not hurt?”

You didn’t expect an answer, of course, so you ran your hand up his back slowly. His body tensing underneath your touch.

“It’s okay.” You murmur, pressing your fingers hard against a knot that caused him to go rigid and reach a hand behind to grab your wrist. His tight grip didn’t stop you though, your other hand reaching his shoulder. You massaged it slowly. “It’ll feel good. I promise.”

His grip loosened as you continued to massage his shoulder, allowing you rub your fingers along his back. You weren’t going to lie, the feel of his hard muscles was turning you on a bit..

We must stay focused brothers, we must stay focused

“This would probably feel better lying down honestly,” you chuckle, his posture relaxing as time went on. “And with lotion. But hey, better than nothing right?”

Your small fingers against his skin had him melting against you instantly. He didn’t understand what you were doing to him. Was this magic? Were you some type of witch that was using their powers to keep him subdued and at your mercy?!

Even if it was true, he didn’t stop himself from submitting to you and allowing for the pleasure to take over his body.

A deep rumbling sound vibrated around the small classroom. You blinked once you realized it came from him. Oh, that’s cute.

Smiling, you move off the desk and place yourself in front of him. His hands not hesitating to wrap around your waist as you continued to massage his shoulder and the front of his chest.

“Feels nice huh?”

A small nod of the helmet was your response.

You begin to massage his arms, rubbing and kneading down to his wrist before grabbing his hand and rubbing tiny circles along the palm. His content sounds only growing louder as you moved to the other arm.

The hand you finished massaging came up to your face, cupping your cheek as you focused on his other hand. The gesture clear enough of what he wanted to say.

Thank you.

#dbd #dbd x reader #dbd imagine #dbd x you #dbd imagines #pyramid head x reader #pyramid head #silent hill #silent hill imagines #the executioner #slashers x you #slashers #slashers imagine #slashers x reader #hopefully the position makes sense lol #requests

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ash-fudo · 2 years

Text

GAW DAMN TF

sir so fine even tho under his mask is all gummy and shi💀

#pyramid head #dead by daylight #dead by daylight pyramid head #dbd killer #dbd #dbd pyramid head #the executioner #silent hill #silent hill 2 #pyramid head x reader #slasher community #slasher brainrot #slasher movies #slasher fandom #slasher fucker #slashers

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daughterofyeshuaa · 11 months

Note

hi hi!! can I request separate Frank, Pyramidhead and Wesker with a survivor gf that is like The Trickster? Like a famous singer from a kpop girl group with a gyaru theme. a lot of fashion and colors and makeup and that she simply stands out a lot like a really bright highlighter among a grey environment. plus if she's really smart and great at looping but like secretly

kisses!! 💕💕

O-M-GOSHHHHHHHHHH YASSSS

Frank Morrison

He's all over you

He absolutely adores you

Though he gets frustrated when you end up looping him for 5 gens and the entirety of endgame

"Your mind games are crazy"

He will ask you a lot about your career and will listen to your music.

Not his cup of tea but will only listen because of how much he likes you and will force the rest of the Legion to enjoy your music.

If you are the rapper in the group, he'd start nerding out

"Listen closely! This is the best part"

Thinks you're beautiful and will even say it out loud in front of others.

Pyramidhead

Honestly, the colors are almost too bright for him.

He'd chase you during trials only to run his hands all over your body in hopes of getting the colors to fade (don't ask questions).

You'd blush heavily but when he puts you down he'd continue the trail as usual.

He grows frustrated when he can't reach you with his power and will eventually leave you for an easier target.

Albert Wesker

Ah yes

He'd admire your style, but he never heard of your group

You show him your music one day outside of a trail

Bro didn't know you could sing (or rap)

You two had friendly competition, constant taunts going back and forth between each other and in the end, he'd face camp you because you were the only kill he could get at the end of the match.

He thinks you're stunning and will even admit it do your face, making you blush and result in teasing.

#dbd x reader #dead by daylight x reader #dbd #dead by daylight #Wesker #Albert wesker x reader #The Mastermind #The Mastermind x reader #Pyramidhead x reader #frank morrison x reader #Frank morrison #Legion reader #The Legion #The Executioner

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im-his-druidess · 5 months

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Dead By Daylight

The Knight (Tarhos Kovàcs)

The Shape (Michael Myers )

The Executioner (Pyramid Head )

The Trapper (Evan MacMillan)

The Ghost Face (Danny "Jed" Olsen)

The Oni (Kazan Yamaoka)

The Wraith (Philip Ojomo)

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saturninelove · 11 months

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The Executioner

(NSFW?) 18+ Minors DNI:

I love my little pyramid head baby and there’s not nearly enough of him on this site. Warnings: Suggestive language, hints at NSFW. Slow burn. (Words: 1363)

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The blackened veil was slowly lifted, starting at your feet and quickly revealing the rest of your body to the world as well as the world to your eyes. A few disoriented blinks later, you find yourself shifting your footing around the murky and muddied grounds of the Backwater Swamp, none other than the Pale Rose’s delightfully dull scenery staring back at you. With a hushed sigh, you broke into a half-hearted sprint towards the main building, seeing Meg already ahead of you and beckoning you closer and onto the generator. With a tight lipped smile, you gave a polite nod of your head. Your heart was beating steadily but not in the way that you’d assume the killer was already near, you were excited to see whoever was trying to execute you from this trial. It was a terrible thing really but you insisted it was some form of adrenaline high that you got from being chased. You were one of the best at keeping the killer's attention without getting a scratch on you and very few killers could break that string of skill and power you possessed. As you thought so highly of yourself, a terrifying sound seemed to tear through the sky, paired nicely with Dwight’s cry of pain. There were only so many noises the killers could make that were that loud. That was either The Deathslinger’s gunshot being fired off or The Executioner’s blade cutting through terrain. It was clarified in only moments when Dwight inevitably let out another painful scream, this time emerging only seconds later behind the two girls entrapped in a cage full of spikes, threatening to impale him with every move he made in his haste. Meg tossed her head to the side as if telling you to set him free while she finished. You gave Dwight a sad smile.

“You did great, that lasted a while!” You tried to be optimistic but he wasn’t buying it, he only gave a slight shrug as you bandaged him up as best you could with the first aid kit Dwight had brought. Meg had long since finished the generator and had headed to the next, hearing an additional generator sing out in the distance. Unsure as to who your other ally was, you set out to find them as well as another generator. In mere seconds, your heart began to race and you turned the corner only to come face to face with the behemoth himself. His ragged breathing seemed to only grow louder as he slowed to a halt in front of you, his chest heaving as he rested his blade against the wooden paneling below. You swallowed abruptly, your entire mouth seeming to dry as you took an unsteady step backwards. Of course, you tripped over the rotting animal carcass the entity liked to keep around and slipped into the gaping hole in the floor. Unsure as to what exactly was happening, you shook your head and assumed autopilot as you sprint out of there as quickly as your feet could carry you, your heightened adrenaline taking you too far out to see what he’d do when you fell. You could still hear his heavy footsteps behind you and the ominous way that metal screeched against the rocks and gravel. With your own chest heaving, you stopped sprinting for long enough to hide underneath the docks, knowing he should’ve lost your trail. You held your breath as you heard him walk above you on the docks, dirt and debris falling through the planks of wood as you crouched into a corner, willing your breathing to be quieter as he kept looking around, taking much longer than you’d think he would. Two different generators rang out in the distance and with all three teammates still alive, you knew the last was soon to follow, but he still hadn’t left. You knew the entity was up to no good when one of the crows nearest to you flew a little closer and made a loud croaking noise. You tried to quietly hush it, shaking your head as you crept closer into the corner. You couldn’t hear his footsteps anymore but you really didn’t trust it. As soon as you went to peek around the corner, you let out a harsh gasp as you were grabbed abruptly, feet being pulled off of the ground as you were lifted by the throat, coughing and gasping. Your eyes settled onto the metallic, rusted cage that seemed to leer at you as your vision blurred, your nails digging into his fleshy wrist harshly in an effort to get him to let go.

“P-please!” You cried out, which seemed to shatter the immersion surrounding the two of you. You were dropped immediately and you crumbled onto your hands and knees as you heaved, coughing violently as tears filled your eyes. This wasn’t normal, you’d seen him chase other survivors and you’d seen the way he killed. Strangulation was not his strong suit, nor was it something he had ever done. The sound of his blade being sheathed into the dirt scared you, causing you to jump at just the sound alone. Just as you were ready to recover and as you stood, that same hand stretched down to you, this time much softer as it caressed the tresses that surrounded your face. You swallowed roughly and tried not to jump or pull away from the creature in front of you. The hand was gone in an instant and you heard the last generator roar to life in the distance, looking up as that familiar burst of speed filled your veins, your eyes glancing around for a way to escape. As if reading your mind, he pressed closer, his breathing loud and it filled your ears as he caged you against the rickety boards with his body, firmly pressing your legs apart with his own body. With your eyes wide, you looked up at him, your brows furrowed in question. You’d heard the legends of ‘The Executioner’ and ‘The Pyramid Head’, this creature was ruthless and cold, his methods of torment were unmatched. And yet here he stood, pressed between your legs and you couldn’t deny the throbbing of your clit. With another strangled gulp, you tried feebly to pull out of his grasp which enticed a low growl to come from underneath his head piece, your eyes widening further as you stilled your movements. The sound of one of the exit gates being powered filled the entirety of the trial, signifying the end of the trial being near. With your widened doe eyes, you wondered if he would keep you here for some sort of sick sense of satisfaction. You were answered immediately as he reacted to the sound of the exit gates being opened. He hoisted you over his shoulder giving another low and quiet groan as if to tell you to hold still. You weren’t even going to bother trying to move, too dumbstruck to catch up with what was happening. He set you gently onto your feet at the opened exit gate, seeing as all of your teammates had already left you behind. He stood directly in front of you, his chest heaving and his arms seemed to be itching to move. When you didn’t make any move to run or exit the trial, he stretched his arms down and onto either one of your hips, the firmness of his grip was exhilarating as he pulled you just a little closer, ensuring you felt the stiffness at his groin as he held you, his palms searching your rear excitedly, groping handfuls as he began to grind your body against his. With a soft moan, you ran your hands up his muscled chest, marveling at how warm he was. The whispers of the fog surrounded the two of you and he gave you a gentle shove towards the safety line in the exit gate, his chest seeming to be heaving harder than before. With a blush on your cheeks, you stepped away from him and into safety, excitement running through your veins at the promise of your next trial.

#dbd smut #pyramidhead #dbd pyramid head #executioner #nsft #reader x pyramidhead #reader x executioner #doritodaddy #slashers #slasher smut

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mjolnirswriststrap · 6 months

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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.”

#avengers fanfiction #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #nat x reader #mcu #natasha romanov #natalia romanova #natasha x you #black widow #avengers #x reader #black widow x reader #renaissance au #executioner #natasha romanoff is a lesbian

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darkdemeter · 9 days

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𝑺𝑶𝑼𝑳'𝑺 𝑹𝑬𝑸𝑼𝑰𝑬𝑴, 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑶𝒏𝒆

— BUCKY BARNES COLUMN

Executioner! Bucky Barnes x Nun! Female Reader

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; || 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 : 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑’𝐒 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 || ;

𝑶𝒉 𝑰 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒂 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒉𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍 𝒇𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒚, 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒅𝒚-𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒂 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕. 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒇𝒚, 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒆𝒙𝒆𝒄𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒓 𝑩𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒚 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒓𝒂𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓.

𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒐𝒓 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒇𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒚 — 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒔 — 𝒔𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒏 — 𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕, 𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒆𝒔/𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔 — "𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒅𝒚" (𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒚𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇) — 𝑺𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒏'𝒔 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝒃𝒊𝒕𝒄𝒉 — 𝒉𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍 (𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕) 𝒇𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒚 𝒂𝒖 — 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅/𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒓 — 𝑰 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕'𝒔 𝒊𝒕?

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; || 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 || ;

𝑭𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑽𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒏, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒂 𝒇𝒂𝒓 𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒎 𝒐𝒏 𝒂 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏. 𝑼𝒑𝒐𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒂𝒍, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒂 𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒈𝒍𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆, 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒐'𝒔 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒅. 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒔𝒐𝒐𝒏 𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉.

|| 2.5K ; words ────────────────

◤𝐌-𝐂𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐗 : 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐃◢

@mostlymarvelgirl @hollyseb @sebastianstansqueen @openup-yourmind @kandis-mom @calwitch @cjand10 @identity2212 @ashdoctor @missmarvelophilic @boobsbeesbongos

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For where there is desolation, there is room for God. This is the belief you cling to in a gaze held to Fort Solitude and its surrounding lands. As its name suggests, the keep has stood lonesome and sullen over some decades, the village at its feet yearns for the same aid of repair. God’s aid. That which you are sent to provide.

“This is as far as I will go. The Lord’s infinite gift for strength that I do not wrangle Father Fury’s neck with a noose is futile.” Abbess Maria shuns the reclusive settlement with a look of irritation. You swallow thickly at the boldness of her confession. Tongue held in silence, your gloved hands squeeze the reins of your horse, you turn to blindness in favour of the growing anticipation that swells inside your chest and blooms brightly with your unshaken faith.

“I must venture forward now, alone,” you conclude, voice lilted behind a fleeting stream of breath that mists past your lips. She nods firmly, her jaw clenched.

You accept this. Understanding her position and that personal ties lay as opposing obstacles tend to entrap, you take no part in trying to sway her decision. “Shall Ser John escort you?”

“No, I can manage from here,” you answer evenly, eyes cast down to instead count the woven threads of the saddle’s pommel. Your lungs expand and your shoulders push with a deep inhale, the smell of rain lingering in the valley. Raising your focus back to Fort Solitude, you are swept in the renewing grace of God’s spirit.

He guides you now. You feel it.

“I am here for a purpose, it is God’s will that I go forth now, and with his light I will prevail. I promise, Abbess Maria, I will not— and they’re gone…” Only a cloud of dust resides where your escorts once were, long since vanished are the thundering applause of their escape.

‘Alone then, but with the Lord.’

“Very well, let us be off!” Lips folding out into a brimming smile and with chirpy tone, you sit a little straighter in your saddle and nudge your heel inward, riding down the spiraling dirt road as you take in the rolling hillside. From what you have been told by the higher council of the Vatican, the settlement has been absent in its presence, cut off from the rest of the world. Tucked into this darkened corner of the realm, your superiors wish to see its return to the fold, to become a beacon of hope and refuge once more.

Many of the sisters back home spoke in hushed tones when news spread of your newly elected station. That the residents of Fort Solitude were beyond saving, that their souls were condemned for eternity’s hellfire. And to that, you very much disagreed with. Because they spoke with spirits of fear and faith that wavered like a flame to a breeze. The abbey sang a chorus of sighing relief when their names were not summoned.

It makes you smile that this opportunity has been given to you. That this great task, no matter how bigger it may seem for someone of your inexperienced caliber, it can only mean that the Lord has set this plan for you. With a light-hearted hum on your tongue, you continue with a merry bounce in your saddled approach.

“What the fuck is that?” A woman of blonde hair sneers, lips screwed into a thinned line in her scrutinising glare. Joining her at the wooden fence, two other women also study the approaching form.

“Maybe she got lost?” suggests Wanda, her tone light with benefited doubt. Not that that swayed the mind of either woman beside her, their eyes still bearing the weight of their prowling judgment.

“Do you think Father Fury knows of this?”

“We’re at time to find out,” snorts the blonde haired, sauntering out past the fenced gate, the two women not too far behind. “Maybe she’s a gifted lamb for the headsman’s axe.”

“Sharon!” hisses both Wanda and Natasha, ignoring the way she practically moaned the words.

Sharon laughs, the sound a clouded abyss of sickness that hangs like an ominous storm. Not too long until the priest joins the growing community outside, his untaken eye spying your approach, your horse slowing to a trot at your gentle command.

“Greetings, Sister.”

“Father Fury,” you say in return, still adorning that bright and thoughtful smile, you take a moment to dismount. Your struggle, however, provides a much amusing sight for the villagers who snicker quietly amongst themselves.

Fury arches a brow and clears his throat, bringing a dismissing silence. Stumbling back a little, you turn to face the settlement’s priest with a victorious grin.

“Abbess Maria didn’t accompany you?”

“Hm? Oh, no, she erm… well, she was, but I uh…” Your move to gesture up towards the opening juncture of the valley where you’d come from, your grin falling into a grimace as each word became utterly futile.

“I thought it best to carry on alone.” You refrain from gulping too loudly.

“Of course. Come.” He beckons you forward with a wave of his hand and with a staggering attempt to bow, in courtesy of the mud trampling your resolve, you tug the reins and follow alongside him.

“Father, I’ve come to understand that there was an… incident involving the previous sister.” In the company of Fury, you believe there is no reason to hide the relation of fear you have regarding that particular detail.

“Yes, there was. Unfortunate in loss, rest her soul, now we’ve moved on.”

“Oh, I see…” The lax nature of his response leaves the beginnings of a bad taste on your tongue, dry and tart, but you push forward. You must look ahead if you are to get anywhere here.

“I’ve this letter from the Vatican, Father,” you begin with slight pause, procuring the sealed document from your safekeeping, you hand it to him. His eye glares down at you, a brow coiled up in his unspoken anguish, his suspicion of the Vatican all present in a single look.

He thanks you quietly under his breath and breaks the wax seal with a muffled pop and unfurls it, reading over its contents. For a moment you each stop and you take the opportunity to come to know what will be your supposed home now.

You cannot exactly say for sure how long you’ll be present at Fort Solitude. Only God knows. Casting the land in a graying gloom, the village is not the sight you’d heard in gossip. Much rather, it stands relatively still and otherwise, together, but the feel of it is… wrong. Tainted by darkness.

Colour appears to be washed out. A dull palette that grieves an aura of forsaken-hood.

‘Blue!’

Striking, the grandest and highest majesty of blue you’ve ever seen, and you’ve seen a lot of colour. But nothing like the marvellous hue of his eyes. And unblinking to a degree so unnerving you find it impossible to release a single ounce of breath, now held prisoner in your chest until the ripened bubble of explosion is upon you - ready to break you - but his penetrative gaze commands you to not give in.

A man with a powerful stride to his walk, a path carved by purpose, each step as lethal as the next and last; as everything that is him.

Your voice is suddenly lost. Incapable to bring yourself to question the priest of who the man dressed in dark clothing, and a heavy leather coat that flows at the muddy hem and dirtied boots. A clinking of leather straps and buckles looping this way and that over his broad form as he saunters alongside the keep’s walls, dark brown hair cascading down in framing locks, haphazardly pulled into a bun with no trace of neatness. A mask covers the lower of his face, concealing the remainder of his features and leaving you to the idea of imagination. A man of rugged charm.

Of sinful charm. A forbidden combination of feelings riles within you, stirring your skin to become reddened with blooming heat. You only pray to the Lord above that the overdrape of your cowl hides your manner of impropriety.

However, your entranced stare turns widened, the fast repetition of your heartbeat forces you to gasp, finally allowing your stilled breath free. In the weight of his fisted palm is the balancing beam of wood, anchored at its end a sharpened tool of bloodshed. A curved and very sharp blade. And freshly blooded. Need you ask, that is no longer necessary, to only realise that this man is an executioner.

“I see that Bishop Alexander is insistent on your work here,” Father Fury says, beckoning your attention.

With a shake of your head you rid away the impure thoughts that threaten you, repelling them with a clearance of mind and throat. You must focus. You are here to help, to offer yourself as a vessel for God’s help. You cannot simply be distracted by a pair of beautiful eyes - no matter how enchanting - you are a sworn sister of the church.

“Very well. By this letter, it appears that you are one of astute read, and willed strongly in your duties.”

“Words spoken kindly… but yes, that is what defines my repute, Father.” A deflection of the praise, your tone reserved and soft.

Yes, Bishop Alexander spoke highly of your work and commitment to the order, and your unwavering faith and loyalty. For each struggle is a mere trial you are meant to overcome. An admirable quality. Amongst many things, your tendency to lend help to the city’s streets, at times from dawn to dusk, captured the attention of the Vatican’s council. And thus, it was brought to attention that Fort Solitude remained an outskirted fortress, unyielding to rejoin the outer community. And you would be sent to do what you do best.

“Indeed, kind. But I’d wager flattery first and foremost.” The plainness of his comment rears its ugly head. You sputter over your words that come out as a series of contorted starters and ends, noises he assumes will be frequent.

“W-why would the Bishop - or anyone - need to flatter me?”

His hand waves in gesture to dismiss your ensuing shock. “Don’t take to it, Sister, perhaps to get closer to God through you.”

Your lips pinch and purse together, your eyes rolling over the mystery of the executioner's sudden disappearance and Father Fury. “I-I don’t… understand your meaning.”

All it took was a simple glance of his good eye and bow of his head, and a sudden chill creeps into your skin like claws. Your body involuntarily shivers, an unsettled grimace upon your visage. “Ew…”

You dare not dwell on such paths of thought. To cure the churning disease that is that concept, you tilt your chin high to take in the fort, its walls old and worn, but still bearing strength in its foundations. A once respectable court and haven for the old knights brotherhood, the Templars, the fort’s survival for all these years is remarkable.

God hasn't given up on this refuge. No matter the trying of the enemy, His will would not be defeated. This line of thought that distracts you brings you to smile, forcing away any disturbed topic prior.

“It is getting late.” He draws your attention to the sun that levels low over the mountain ridge, though its presence is masked by the thick smog of overcasting clouds. “I’ll have James show you to your quarters.”

Akin to the innocence of a pup, your head cocks to the side, voice inflecting with keen curiosity. “James?”

The older man answers your inquiry with a summon, calling over the man you presume is this ‘James’, your jaw slackens the moment you come to see those alluring pools of heaven’s blue.

‘Grant me your strength, Heavenly Father, for this man is dangerous.’

He discards his mask as he walks towards you, eyes shifting from yours to Fury, brows pressed firm into a furrowing glare. “James, this is Sister L/N, I ask that you show her to her respective room.”

James chuffs a haughty breath through his nose, as if to snicker in his contemplative annoyance, he nods obediently to the now retreating priest and then looks to you. For a moment, he just stares, the affect of it is potent, it begins to play your mind in ways you did not think capable of a mortal man.

You’re unsure what exactly it is that traverses the process of his mind, his expression impenetrable to reading, all you can do is give him a wide smile, but otherwise that feels like it’s too much. For a moment you think you see something move beneath the placidity of this man, a startled view in the reflection of his hues, like he’s never seen anyone smile at him before; at least not like you.

“So the Vatican sent another one.”

A rather interesting first impression but you would take it. You nod, perhaps a bit too much with enthusiasm, you answer with a definite and pronounced, “Yes.”

His gloved hand wrestles the reins from your own and he walks without so much as another glance or word. Fisting the skirt fabric of your long, black grown to hop over a puddle, you’re at his heel as he leads you through the iron gates and into the large courtyard.

“I am sure Father Fury has spoken of my arr—”

His interjection comes bluntly and swiftly, “Not really.”

‘Uh…’

His hair dances the line of his heightened collar to peer over his shoulder and down at you. Quickly, you cast your eyes down to the ground, inspecting the water-lined footprints and minute details, he only hums in what you either calculate to be in amusement or relief. As to what personalised goal, you cannot fathom. Willing to remain in control of yourself, you puff the contouring of your mouth with air and continue.

“I see. Well, as evidently as it is, I am here to provide solace and comfort to those of Fort Solitude.”

“As was the last,” he whistles aloud over the gust of wind that howls downwards from the mountains, the power of it forces the tresses of your clothing to flutter about madly. Harbouring your horse in the nearby stables, he passes the duty of her care onto the stable-hand, before he unstraps your bag from the saddle.

When you try to reach for it, he swings it over his shoulder, cocking a brow at you with a bout of skepticism over your actions. You huff shortly in reply, “You needn’t carry my belongings, I can— and he’s gone…” the last of which is muttered under your breath.

‘What is it with this man?’

You have to lift the skirts of your gown again to hurry after him towards the keep, a small yelp catches in your throat from almost tripping through a puddle, he eyes you warily once at the heavy, wooden doors. Smoothing down the fabric of your gown and regaining your composure, you motion for him to continue with an eager and bright smile.

The only thing he can think in that moment as he pushes the doors open with a howling bellow of its aged hinges, is that you smile at him too much, with far too much hope in those eyes of yours.

“Welcome to Fort Solitude, Sister.”

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