Bloodthirsty and violent are two words that don’t quite seem to justify just how ruthless and murderous Walden Macnair can be. Redemption long ago stopped being an option for the young man; not that he has it within him to care. Killing is what he does best, and as he doesn’t plan on stopping any time soon, why not make a living out of it? He’s now being paid to do what he loves on a daily basis, he has the branding of his Lord on his left arm, and Walden struggles to understand how people aren’t desperately jealous of the life he now possesses.
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"This won't look suspicious. Now someone'll think you bribed me or something, to let you go." He took the money nonetheless, placing it in his pocket. "My place it is, then." He took Antonin's wrist with one hand and apparated them back to his flat.
"Mm, nah, I’m not planning on beating you shitless, don’t fret. Now, I’ll let you Apparate me out somewhere, and then if you get questioned later, you can claim I cursed you and Apparated my way free." He shrugged a shoulder with that, fishing out his wallet and pulling out a few galleons to hold out to the younger man. "Here. For my part of dinner."
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"What will you do now?" Walden asked when they got outside, looking around the street as he placed his hands in his pockets casually. "Please don't tell me it's going to involve beating me shitless to make it look like you escaped."
Waiting until the girl walked away, Antonin took the last long sip of his coffee before pushing himself to his feet. “Let’s get on out so you can Apparate me out to the Ministry, then. Shame, that, that this is how notorious mass murderer Antonin Dolohov should go down.” Gesturing toward the door, he stepped outside, glancing over at Walden when he exited as he fished around his pockets for the wallet he carried.
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Walden wanted to protest when Antonin stepped forward. He didn't think they should kill the child, although he was all for killing people in general. There was just something about killing someone younger than him that he couldn't handle. It wasn't even the innocence factor, as he killed innocent animals all the time. He wasn't sure what the problem was, but if Antonin made him kill this child, he was certain he would be pissed off for the rest of the night. Antonin hadn't mentioned that children would be involved in this.
When the child was just stunned, though, he let out the breath he didn't know he was holding and turned toward the noise at the stairwell. He raised his wand and instantly stunned the first two, knocking them out of the way, and focused on the third, this one a female. He sent a cutting curse at her, smirking as she let out a scream, and finished it with a burning curse before turning to look at Antonin out of the corner of his eye, wanting to see if he approved.
Walden wasn't sure he was creative enough to torture all three of these people, especially in different ways, but something told him that Antonin wouldn't be able to just sit back and watch him the entire time either.
In The Dark Of The Night || Antonin & Macnair
The initial nausea was all too familiar to Antonin; he had felt it too much in the early days, unfamiliar with the feeling of Apparition, until he had taken to Apparating more and more often for his missions. Which, really, was the only reason that Antonin didn’t mock him for it. Instead, he gave him time for the nausea to quell before following him into the ouse. And of course, Walden made a loud entrance — Antonin quite preferred louder ones, really, and went with as much volume as possible unless quiet was an absolute necessity for the success of the mission. Luckily for him, it very rarely was.
The sight of the child being the first one in the house, shocked into silence and practically pleading with his eyes already, almost made Antonin sigh. He hadn’t thought any of them would be this young; at most, this one was sixteen, and that was if Antonin had guessed his age correctly, which he was not assuming he had. Cursing under his breath, he glanced back toward Walden before stepping forward himself at the other’s hesitance. “Stupefy,” he muttered, knocking the boy out. A few more winding spirals of his wand, and he’d tied him in invisible ropes, leaving him bound on the couch to be released upon leaving.
"I don’t kill children," he muttered as he turned back toward Walden, certain that his spells would last. "That should be the youngest one. Three more, and remember, no Unforgivables. Especially not from you — your wand is still clean yet, you don’t want them tracking you down for that." The tail end of his sentence was muffled, slightly, by the sound of footsteps coming toward the living room, and he stepped back behind Walden as the first Muggle — this one older, an older male — stepped into the room. "Stun the first two, and I’ll bind them into the corners of the room. The third one, that’s where you start to play."
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"You had better come along quietly. I wouldn't want to have to duel you or something. That would be a shame. Wouldn't want to lose my life, now." He reached into his wallet and put his money on the table for both meals, watching as the waitress walked away with it.
If Antonin were a little better, he would have been able to keep from looking amused as the waitress’s eyes widened with Walden’s words. He couldn’t, though, and so he took the last couple fries off of his plate, looking up at Walden rather than the girl. “Just right, you should. Great last meal, though, mate. I suppose I’ll come along quietly.”
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Walden continued to bite and suck at the others neck, even when he started to pull away from him. He knew Antonin loved that kind of attention, and just moved in closer to pull at the skin on his neck. He changed spots, this time biting deeply into the skin, breaking it and causing blood to gush out. He licked up the blood eagerly before moving on to a new spot, biting again.
He paused in his movements when he felt his jeans unzip, and he pulled away long enough for Antonin to slide his pants and boxers down. He started paying attention to the others skin with his mouth once again when he moved closer, this time starting to leave his love marks down the other male's arm.
There was a rough groan when Antonin took his length into the palm of his hand and gently stroked. Walden wanted more than that. It had been too long for him to be teased, but at the same time, he felt the other's uncertainty and hoped his groan was enough to keep him going.
In case it wasn't, he found himself whispering into his ear. "Please. I want more. More than that. I want you inside of me." He began to gently nip at his ear, becoming a bit more rough with each bite until he had the earlobe bleeding. He let out a satisfied hum as he sucked at the blood, leaving his mark behind.
Don't You Worry Child [1996 Dolohov & Macnair]
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Walden closed his fist when Antonin grabbed him, wanting to protest to the touch, but knowing it was necessary to get where they were going. He didn't know where it was, after all, and walking would surely take all night. So he let Antonin apparate him, as much as he didn't want to, because- right on cue- he felt the all too familiar and uncomfortable sickness that accompanied the apparating. "Shit." he muttered to himself when they arrived, trying to remain quiet even though he felt terrible. It took a minute or two for the sickness to finally ease up, enough for him to walk again.
When Antonin let go of him, he groggily stumbled a few steps before catching himself and pulling out his wand. He didn't want to go first. He wanted to do this, yes, but he didn't want to start. He wasn't even sure how to start. Was the best method to be as loud as possible, to let them know they were there? Or should he quietly sneak in first? He wanted to ask, but something told him Antonin would not appreciate the question, especially after he had just assured him that he could do this. Instead, Walden made a split decision and blased the front door lock, letting the doorknob fall to the ground with a thud. He kicked the door in before stepping inside and looking around.
There was a young muggle boy sleeping on the couch, and he immediately jumped up when he heard the door slam open. The boy had to be a teenager, no more than sixteen, Walden guessed. That was not where Walden wanted to start. He didn't want to hurt a child, even if the child was a teenager. He looked back at Antonin, his unsureness reflected in his eyes, as if asking where he was supposed to start and what he was supposed to do. He now felt ridiculously stupid for telling the other he could do this, because the honest truth was that he couldn't do this. He could kill creatures easily, but not children.
In The Dark Of The Night || Antonin & Macnair
A momentary look of suspicion crossed Antonin’s face when Walden said torturing would be easy. While it was valid, at least in his opinion, that torture was easier at times than a simple kill, he rarely trusted ones that were quite so young as Walden was, not when he hadn’t worked with them on his own in the past. He remembered his own earlier days all too well to fully trust them, for in his own days, he had been as reckless and cocksure as they came — and he had nearly wound up dead or caught all too many times simply for that fact.
He was insisting then, though, that he could handle it, and Antonin took the last bite of his burger and tossed away the trash left behind from his meal as Walden insisted they go, and soon. It made him chuckle quietly, rolling his eyes and brushing his hands over his jeans quickly. “Antsy, are we?” he teased lazily, looking over Walden in silence for another moment before moving to stand side by side and wrap a hand around his wrist. “Stay close, don’t rush on ahead. They’re meant to all be Muggles, but you never know where the Order scum are protecting these days.”
A last warning, and Antonin let it hang in the air as he closed his eyes to find the mental image of the home they were invading before Apparating out with a pop. When they arrived at the new location, he stayed where he was for a moment to get his balance back before releasing Walden’s wrist and stepping away to walk up to the front door. The Muggles would never know what was coming to them, he mused, noting the darkened windows and the car in the driveway. Foolish, foolish Muggles. “Lead the way then, little one. You get first cut.”
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"Thank you." Walden's smile was more firm now that the other had confirmed his thoughts. "I try hard, you know." When the waitress came back over, he let out a cough and muttered, "I should be getting you back to the ministry about now, though. Merlin knows what you'll do if I leave you out any longer. Probably destroy this entire place."
Antonin almost managed not to chuckle at the nervous laugh that Walden offered up — almost. He couldn’t quite help it, though, and ducked his head to lessen it. “You’ve definitely made a step up in the world, befriending one of the most sadistic, murderous men in all of Wizarding England, and probably most of Wizarding Europe. Impressive feat there, mate.”
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Walden shrugged, looking away briefly as he thought. "I guess it's something. I do love my job, I could definitely be doing worse. My life is...pretty good. I'm fairly satisfied with it. I mean, I'm friend's with Antonin Dolohov, right? So it's got to be going somewhere." He turned back to the other male and let out an almost nervous laugh, as if Antonin were going to kill him on the spot.
"Mm, perks of being an only child. Parents are much easier to get whatever you want from when you’re an only child." Antonin had been an only child as well, spoiled rotten when he was a child — funny, how that taste for the luxurious had eased out as he got older, replaced simply by a thirst for blood and power. "Least the work’s interesting too."
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"Always." Macnair's response came with a smirk and another long sip of his drink. He was well on his way to wasted already, even though he had some important Death Eater activities to do that night. He was tired of waiting around for Antonin to make the first move, though, so drinking had become his pastime.
"What is Elphias Greengrass, of all people, doing here tonight?" Walden asked when he finished his drink, setting his glass down on the counter, "I know why you're not here. But I didn't expect you to show at all, to be honest. Why are you here?"
He knew it was none of his business, and that was probably the response he was going to get, but he had to ask. He wanted to make a point that he knew about the attack tonight, and that he would be participating in it, whereas he also knew that Elphias would not.
[Macnair & Elphias]
The outside of the pub emanated orange light, and humming and buzzing of music and conversation floated out into the street - it was clear that the party had begun. He was here for appearances sake more than anything, since he’d decided not to join in with any Death Eater activity that night. His family were there and many people who knew him, and the risks were too great. Hopefully collecting more intel for Dolohov would make up for it, but only if he could get something good and useful. He’d been avoiding missions since Delia left the family, and sooner or later he’d have to start being more serious about being a Death Eater, no matter what.
His drink of preference was always an inch of whisky, and as he ordered his first he took in everything about the festivities. Everything from who had shown up to the exact whereabouts of his sisters were noted mentally before he could take his first sip. Some students started dancing in front of him, so he turned around to face the bar instead, not wanting to start off the evening with irritation.
As he turned, he caught a glimpse of a somewhat familiar face - that of Walden Macnair. Elphias wondered if he was alone, or waiting for someone. “Enjoying the party?”
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Walden just laughed at the young boy's response to his curse. He was fighting now, and Walden was thankful he had the arm strength of an executioner, or else he might not be able to keep the lean boy pinned down. He winced when one of the boy's fists made contact with his arm, and he could feel the scratch mark it left on his skin. Alright, now he was mad.
"What's your name, boy?" he asked, getting in close to him and whispering into his ear, "If you're lucky, I'll send your mangled body back home to your parents."
He would probably just leave the body there when he fled, but he did have full intentions of killing this boy. They were only told to cause fear. Antonin was the only one allowed to kill. But he was pissed off now, and there was no going back. The young boy had a fighting spirit that Walden wanted to put to the test. He wanted to see how long he could withstand torture before he crumbled.
A Bad End to a Good Night [Macnair and Sirius]
#sorry its short#and idk if were even doing this anymore#im just so lost#in replies that is#c: sirius black
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"I don't see why I wouldn't be one of your friends," Macnair offered, "I mean, we're about the same age. You're pretty, I'm handsome as fuck. We'd make a great pair, you know?" He was just trying to piss her off now. Her response amused him, but at the same time he did feel a little threatened. Maybe that was why he found himself stumbling to his feet, leaning heavily against the table, and grabbing his drink with his free hand. "Alright, alright. I'll leave you be, Alecto. Just remember this conversation when you need me for something, since we're apparently not friends." He was a little hurt, but it was more of a tease than anything.
"Finally, the guy uses his pea of a brain." Alecto flashed her teeth at the male, eyes as black as tar as she continued to glare at him, praying for the moment when he would simply get up and leave; he was continuously pushing at her already far too gone patience. "I don’t have time for friends, Macnair; if I did you would definitely not be one of them."
Groaning at his words, Alecto furiously took a much larger gulp of her drink, before slamming her eyes shut for a minute, pinching the bridge of her nose as she tried to compose herself. “I wonder if you’ll still be fearless when I am pulling your tongue from your mouth." The animalistic growl with which her words escaped were like no other, eyes once more opening and focussing on the face of the man who was currently appearing in every single one of Alecto’s death-filled fantasies.
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"Yeah, right. I'm Walden Macnair, the executioner." He gently reminded Antonin. He was surprised, to be honest, that Antonin even remembered his first name. He knew Antonin probably had too many other people to deal with to remember someone like him, someone of the lesser ranks, a newbie. But he was honored at the same time, that Antonin had taken the time to remember his name.
Then Antonin was explaining his rules and conditions, and Walden was forced to listen with a bit of nervousness. He wasn't sure he knew enough spells to get him through that. He had learned torturous spells at a young age, just for the fun of it, but many had been beyond his control then, and he hadn't practiced on anything but animals. And this had all been a long time ago. And yet, he found himself nodding and saying, "Oh, no problem. I'm a natural killer, but torturing should be easy enough, right?"
He couldn't imagine the task was that hard. It was easy enough to kill someone, surely doing it slowly wasn't going to be any more difficult, especially when he was using a wand over an Ax. "I can do this," He found himself insisting, "Let's just go and get on with it, already. I'm tired of waiting."
In The Dark Of The Night || Antonin & Macnair
"You’ll get the kill, don’t you worry. Macnair, right? Walden, I think it was." Antonin had a better memory for the names of those that joined their ranks than Riddle did, if he was honest; though he saw little point in recalling much past a surname, he had made it a point to at least be able to attach a face to a name for the sake of knowing who he was bringing along on a mission, who he was testing out. It made it easier, when he reported back to Riddle later on about how the mission had gone, on the rare occasion that he did let someone else along with him.
Taking another large bite of his burger, he was quiet for a couple of minutes, simply filling his stomach as he hadn’t been able to do for a couple of days now. While Antonin was quite proud of his reputation, while he enjoyed the infamy that came with his particular brand of murder, he did sometimes hate certain aspects of it. Aspects including, of course, not being able to step into a shop to get food when he was particularly hungry, as he was tonight.
Finishing off the food the other man had bought for him, Antonin cleaned his hands off with a quick scouring charm before looking back at Walden with an appraising eye. “I have a couple little rules when I go on kill missions,” he offered up. “I don’t use Unforgivables until the very end, and even then I don’t sometimes. I like other methods. Cutting charms, burning charms, the like. And you know, there’s a bit of satisfaction in watching someone die through slower means. Unforgivables draw people in too fast, it’s too easy to get caught before you’re actually finished. You know enough torturous spells for that, yeah?” He paused a moment, realizing the question might be offensive, before continuing quickly, “A lot of the younger Death Eaters don’t know enough to go in, so I give a crash course if they need it, hence asking.”
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Walden let out a soft gasp when Antonin had him flipped onto his back. His fingernails left trails in the other's skin as he was moved and Walden was forced to find a new, solid grip on Antonin's now bare shoulders. He hadn't been ready to be moved, didn't like the feeling of being on his back anymore now that he wasn't used to it again, but any complaint he may have had was lodged in his throat when Antonin straddled him. His hips were instantly bucking into the others as he pulled Antonin closer to him, not even breaking their kiss in the process. He wanted to touch Antonin, to feel every part of him, and so he let his hands explore the other's back. He left little scratches wherever his hands went, his nails dragging across the skin lazily.
He pulled his head back when he needed to breathe. Walden was now panting beneath the older man, remembering exactly what it felt like years ago, when they had both been younger, and to be under him- under anyone- for the first time in his life. It had been what he thought would be a rare occurrence, to be under someone, letting someone else take charge, but he soon found out it would become an almost everyday thing. Antonin didn't like it when he wasn't in charge, and Walden grew to want to give him everything that would make him happy. If giving up command during sex would make Antonin happy, Walden surely did it.
"Gods be damned, I missed you so fucking much." he whispered, barely audible, before he leaned forward and pressed his lips against the other male's neck. He kissed him only momentarily before biting into his neck and sucking, trying to draw as much blood into his mouth as he could get from the small wound.
Don't You Worry Child [1996 Dolohov & Macnair]
The sound of Walden’s voice was one that Antonin didn’t think he was ever going to tire of, honestly. Even broken as it was, small noises that he couldn’t help but let out between closed lips, it was a satisfying feeling, the sort of sound that he couldn’t help but love to hear escaping the other man. He had missed that sound, clung to the memories he had of his voice, of his hands against his skin, of his weight in his lap - anything he could cling to in the dark of the Azkaban cells had been privy to clinging, and this was one of those few things that hadn’t entirely faded out in the dark of the prison.
The moan from the bite was pained, and it shot straight through Antonin, sending a shock of heat under his skin, through his bloodstream, to pool in his lower stomach. It was satisfying, all too satisfying, to feel, and god, how had he gone this long without hearing that tone? Without feeling the rasp vibrate through him and echo in his own voice. The sight of Walden’s torso being revealed to him as his shirt came off at last, slight tone mapped out with lingering scars from the years - including at least a couple that Antonin could identify as coming from his mouth or his hands - drew a smirk to his lips, content etching itself onto his features.
Another rough kiss connected their lips, then, and the harsh bite of the other’s teeth against his lip drew another growl from his throat, this one a bit more pained, even as his hips shifted up at the feeling, seeking more contact, more of him, more anything, really. Even the unfamiliar feeling of blood in his mouth - a mix of his own and Walden’s now - was just warming his skin, making him crave more, more of anything. More of him.
And perhaps that was why Antonin was moving more quickly than he normally would. It was all too easy to pull away from the kiss, to take in a deep breath, to shift them so that Walden was on his back, to nudge him until, rather than Walden on top of him, Antonin was now straddling his hips. It had been so long, far too long, and he needed… everything, his mind supplied, but it couldn’t seem to land on a solid thing that he wanted to feel. Fingertips dipped under his shirt, tugging it off over his head and dropping it down beside the couch with Walden’s before he leaned down, catching his lips in a slightly less bruising kiss.
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"I'm an only child," Walden explained, "So my parents will give me whatever I want, whenever I want it. They just wanted me to be more productive than sitting at home listening to the radio all day. And I'd have to say, it's nice to get out of the house. But you're right, mate, it is a common pureblood thing. We all do it, because we aren't filth that have to work to live, thank the gods."
"Hmm, not bad, not bad in the least. Easy method of getting out a bit of aggression too, at that," he mused, an expression of clear amusement tinting his features. "Sounds like a common Pureblood thing, though, you know — mooching off of the parents, and all. I still have access to mine’s account, and I’m near fifty, mate. No matter how good the work, the parents’ money is always what we fall back on in the end." Perhaps Antonin was a bit biased in that — he hardly had any money of his own to use, really — but the statement was true nonetheless.
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"Yes, I don't mind the killing. Not in the least. Animals are nasty creatures. They deserve to die, if you ask me." Walden responded with an upturned smirk, knowing full well just how crazy that had probably made him sound. But no matter, he doubted he would ever see this girl again in his life, so it didn't matter what she thought of him.
"Yes, we should. I'll be late if I'm not careful. It was nice talking to you, Miss...ah, I'm sorry, I don't remember your name." He wasn't sure if he had even gotten her name in the first place, to be quite honest.
"Oh, nasty," Delia replied, her nose curling up in disgust. If a creature was to end a persons life, Delia could see the need to end it’s life. "I guess it’s only right because if a person were to murder another person… they’d be off to Azkaban to have their soul removed! Rather you then I though." Delia turned to her now empty mug and plate, pushing them away from her person to signal the waiting staff to clear her table. "I suppose we both better get a move on then if we’ve got a busy afternoon ahead of us!"
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"Hm, I see. I'm like that too, when I have multiple jobs. I'm lucky to be eating right now. I need to leave soon." he offered, leaning in on his hands to stare fiercely at her. She didn't look like the type that could handle what he did on a day to day basis, but she should be able to handle blood and gore, if she was a healer.
"Griffin. Nasty one, this is. Killed a man, have to have it executed now. I'm happy to do it, though. Someone's got to get it done, and I hate those buggers."
Nodding, Delia smiled though it felt tight around her cheek and never quite reached her eyes. She was tired constantly due to the fact she had to be up almost every morning at the crack of dawn. If she wasn’t working, Delia was a home studying, cooking or cleaning. She was hoping to eventually be able to afford an house-elf to help her around the home but that time was a long way off yet. “It’s tough but I love it. Oh, another this afternoon? If you don’t mind me asking, what is it that you’re… executing?”
Pleased to have a chance at changing the subject to a slightly lighter note, Delia nodded with her true smile back in place. “Bit of a late lunch, break between studying. I have to grab food whenever I can.”
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"It wasn't hard, really. I needed a job, I was just mooching off my parents, and they were looking for a new executioner because the last one retired. My parents figured it was the perfect job for me- I hate animals- so they got me an interview. And it all worked out." It had been pretty smooth, actually, and his parents had only done it to get him moved out of the house and making a name for himself. They thought him having a job would keep him out of trouble.
"Mm, it is an impressive feat, taking on a dragon that a professional really ought to handle. You’ve got an interesting job, you do. Paid to murder on a regular basis, even if only creatures.” Antonin let his fingertips drift over the scar left behind lightly, testing how tender it might be, before settling them high up on his forearm. “How’d you land the executioner role anyway? I wasn’t aware they actively looked for them when needed.”
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