#cw: knives

[angelatsumu]

secrecy. [j. price]

in which captain price denies his love for you publicly, and that doesn't go over well.

cw: angst (a tiny bit...like it's a little hurtful), SMUT, minors kick rocks DNI, price called daddy but is very switch/sub here, knife play, afab!reader, sorta toxic behavior (don't deny your spouse for a bit of approval with your friends bro), blood play a tiny bit, riding, overstimulation, not proofread

“there’s simply nothing worth settling down for lads. end of discussion.” your teeth met the inside of your cheek to stave off the grimace that fought to surface. your lover, the man you called your husband, had the audacity to allow such foolishly indignant words slip from his liquor laced tongue. the gall of the man who’d insisted you make him the happiest man on earth, the one who’d spent hours practicing his speech in the mirror, was something you’d found quite unexpected. to allow such insanity slip from those precious lips you kissed every morning was far more than an insult to your heart; it broke your pride. you’d pridefully and proudly called yourself the captain’s wife, head held higher than it had been before the silly ring on your finger. it was one thing to keep your marriage a secret—that you two had agreed upon—but to admonish your place in his heart? that was unmistakably cruel. your eyes met your lover’s as the men seemed to light-up at his words, applauding him for his dedication to the taskforce and military business. the display only made you want to revolt even more.

the drive home was quiet. normally you’d pretend to be a bit too drunk so that price could pretend to chivalrously take you to your apartment, but tonight you felt no need for such a foolish charade. there was simply no scent for your fellow task force members to follow because john had snuffed out that flame with his foolish banter. you sat bitterly brewing in your misery, flames of wicked jealousy licking at your heels with each passing moment. john could feel it radiating from you, the air too thick for him to swallow as he pridefully refused to concede and beg for forgiveness. the sheer thought of your husband standing by his bravado-littered statements covered you in a figurative sheen of vengeance. you were desperate for the opportunity to right him, to make him eat every little word he’d muttered. you had half the mind roll out of the moving car right this moment, but you decided against such reckless antics. instead, you’d decided to kickstart his own descent into delirium. there was nothing more tantalizing to your husband than making love to you, and perhaps that is where your edge lied.

the sight below you was gloriously sinful. your lover with flushed cheeks and tear-speckled eyes, precious blade of your combat knife nestled just beneath his jaw. your hand could slip and it would bring scarlet red droplets to the surface, giving him a closer shave than he’d bargained for. he knew this, and the thought made his cock stir inside your velvety walls. with each teasing roll of your hips a whimper fled john’s lips, soft pleas for your mercy. his eyes glistened at you as though you hung the stars, just as they were designed to. pressing the knife’s blade ever-so-lightly, you lifted your hips high enough that only the tip remained encased in your plush cunt. the action causes your husband’s brows to knit together as you hover there with the cruelest scowl you can manage. “please, love. ‘m sorry, daddy’s sorry,” he all but whimpers, hips stirring before halting at the feel liquid running down the side of his neck. you scoff at him, eyes narrowing as you lean closer to the object of your affection. your lips hover above his, breath fanning over his skin. “yeah? daddy’s sorry, hm?” he nods eagerly, knicking himself again in dumb desire to please you. you dip your head into the crook of his neck, deft tongue licking a stripe along the path of the stray droplet of blood. the action of ownership leaves your husband dizzy as an uncontrolled whimper leaves his lips. you hum, wicked grin pulling at your lips as you plop yourself down onto him. the fat of your ass claps against his thighs, and your head falls back at the feeling of being so full. you groan, rolling your hips forward just enough to catch your clit on the ridge of his pelvis. john’s hands instinctively move to clutch your hips, and you tut at him amusedly.

your cunt was driving john to insanity, and you weren’t too far behind him. the pace you’d set was increasingly tiring, but your abdomen continued to be set aflame with carnal desire. the clap of your ass against your husband’s lap resounded through the room as you fucked yourself—and him—stupid on his girthy length. orgasm after orgasm had rushed over the two of you, yet your desire for more never wavered. your grip on your beloved knife had since loosened enough that there was no true threat, though the thrill remained. your husband was beautifully fucked beneath you, lip quivering as his eyes struggled to stay open. your tight heat felt torturous, the sensation of your walls griping him like a vice bringing him to tears. your eyes intently glared down at your man, as much as you could while being fucked open. “can’t take anymore, love,” your husband whimpers, hands gripping your hips harshly as he weakly attempted to slow your movements. you huffed at him, hand moving to grip his jaw and force his gaze to yours. your gaze made his cock stir inside your plushy cunt. “you can take it,” you spat at him, squeezing his jaw at the hinges to force his mouth open. without thought you spat into your lover’s mouth, riding him with more tenacity as you felt your high approaching. “oh fuck,” he whined, head falling back from your gasp as you milked him for his last orgasm of the night. “you look at me when I fucking cum, and you remember who you settled down with, john,” you scold him, tugging on his dog tags to force him to meet your view again. the sight before you was picture worthy, pitiful fucked out captain gazing at you like you hung the stars in the sky; to him, you did. your orgasm swept you in a vicious wave of euphoria, thighs trembling as you moaned softly over your lover. the cant of your hips slows as you ride out your high, sweat-coated body leaning to press flush against his. john sighs, arms wrapping around you as he babbles apologies into your chest and neck. “never mean’ it, never say it again” he babbles softly, and you’re certain some of his brain oozed out from his ears with how thoroughly you’ve fucked him. with a sigh you untangle yourself from him, peering softly into his beautiful eyes before leaning to pepper kisses along his face. “i love you, John. thank you for letting me have this,” you hum softly. truly he could’ve called off the whole encounter, but he allowed you this relief. oh, what a lover you have.

likes + coments + rbs always appreciated <3 thx

[and-bone-appetit]

killer with palette #15? also i love your art style !!

Killer w/ #15! Thx for the request! :3

Love this color palette on him! I'm pretty happy with this one!

Killer belongs to Rahafwabas

[quantumvaudeville]

I don't need a parachute, baby if I got you Baby if I got you, I don't need a parachute You're gonna catch me, you're gonna catch if I fall Down, down, down

[strangeaxel]

Vincent what’s your favorite posi- I mean knife what’s your favorite kind of knife

I like cleavers

Vincent:

"I can't collect them as i use to because of monetary reasons but ... kitchen knifes are always a classic, tactical and butterfly knifes are also cute but to be more discreet i usually prefer a simple cutter and rectractable knifes. It's hard to pick just one but i gotta say cutters are favorites since no one can tell you nothing about them...

And doggy style, classic duh."

[delirisse-au]

Day 6

Rivals

This is inspired by a comic I saw on here where Narinder orders Baal to hurt Aym, but I cannot find it rahhhh orz I don't remember who drew it

[willsolacefanatic]

This was a suggestion from my elder sibling, love you lmao. Fury and Razor interaction! TW: Gore, knives, blood, injury.

The wet sound of a blade being tugged out of flesh echoed across the marble walls of the cabin's basement, accompanied by an artificial-sounding voice's cackle.

"Oh, this is fun! You won't die, and I won't either! Aha, aha, aha!" Razor's tone carries a metallic twinge, mixed into the odd monotonical voice she has.

"You can still be peeled apart. I'll tear away each and every blade under your skin, until you are nothing!" Fury bellows back, uncaring for the wet blood cascading out of her forearm. She charges, a bony arm raised.

Those fingers latch into the exposed blade of Razor's thigh, tugging until they find grip along the smooth metal. Fury tosses her weight around and practically throws Razor across the room, a metallic clang bouncing off of the walls alongside the wet squelch of flesh as the Princess falls, hitting a lump of skin.

"That wasn't very nice. I won't be nice, either." With wet pops of joints and a sickening gurgle, Razor tears off chunks of flesh at a time, wound and jagged blades making up where her arms once were.

Razor lunges forth, aiming for Fury's heart. Though the demonic woman is quick, Razor is far quicker, throwing herself forth again and again. Fury's footwork is good, relying on dodging until she can find a strategic angle, but she's cocky.

A scream rips through the basement as a blade rams through Fury's throat, gargling around blood. As Razor pulls her arm loose, the flesh immediately begins to bind back together, sewing together like thread.

"Again!" Is what Fury yells, the white dots of her eyes seeming near-blinding amidst the shadows of her sclera.

And so Razor does. They charge at one another in tandem, a beautifully violent back-and-forth dance of blood and a need to feel something.

[possibly-moodboards]

Julius Caesar moodboard with ides of march and related inspo

requested by: me

🗡️🗡️🗡️/🔪🔪🔪/🗡️🗡️🗡️

[loki-is-my-kink-awakening]

WIP Wednesday

Brad x Pres Loki. More Loki tormenting Brad. Suggestive, features daggers.

The hand moved up, fingers delicately dancing across his collarbone, up the side of his neck, tracing around his ear for a moment before sinking into his hair and yanking his head back. Brad was sure he made some whiny noise, but he couldn’t hear it, his mind focused on nothing but the blade pressed against his throat.

Loki chuckled in a low voice, his lips ghosting on his cheek. “Why did you drop in on me, hmm? Did you get bored of your little games in the TVA? Was there no one left to put you in your place?”

Brad glared at him. He didn’t remember this variant coming through the TVA, but maybe it had been another squad who had picked him up from whatever chaos he was causing on the timeline.

The knife scraped against his skin, coming up to his jawline. “I always wondered if, what was her designation again, B-12? No, B-15. How is she? Does she miss me?”

“Mmmmm,” Brad moaned, then rolled his eyes at the stupid game being played.

Loki smirked, removing the dagger and letting his hands drift down his body, reaching for his belt. It clinked, and Brad let out a contented little sigh, leaning his head back against the wall. In short order, his pants fell to the floor and a palm brushed up against him through his underwear, forcing him to buck up into it.

“So eager. So responsive,” Loki breathed, leaning into him again, eyes tracing the saliva Brad could feel slowly dripping down his chin. “Do you taste as delicious as you look?”

Tags below the cut

Tagged by @elodiah @lokimobius @thosegayoldmen 💕💕💕

Passing onto @cha-melodius @starport-seven-five @dewdropreader @lgwilt @dreamycloud

@insert-witty-user-name-here @mirilyawrites @kcscribbler @mystic-voyager

@impulsemuppet @in-my-loki-feels @kusakichan15 @boredintjqueen @silentxsymphony

@devilbearingtrouble @andthekitchensinkao3 @loki-tree-of-life @sparrow-the-tired-lesbian @starrose17

@blackbirdofasgard @illiasha @voulezvulcan @lettingtimepass @typewriterwolf

@fibvlaa @lumintsu @wolfpup026 @asoeiki @natendo-art

[wildfang-art]

"(...) Moreover, perhaps it isn’t love when I say you are what I love the most - you are the knife I turn inside myself, this is love. This, my dear, is love." Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena

My fourth entry for 2024's Romencken week, for the prompt "weapon". The quote that is included in this piece is by Franz Kafka, an excerpt from a letter to his lover Milena. It's a quote that instantly stuck with me when I first read it as an angsty, goth-y teenager and it came to mind again when I thought about Roman, Jeryd and weapons. Enjoy!

[goggledboi]

Day 3: Today was a free day, sunday's usually are. Nothing was too notable today. I just sat on the couch and listened to Jeff and Ben argue about video game characters. I did have to avoid Jeff's knives though, he kept getting angry and threw them. I thought about taking one, but decided against it. He's already a pain to deal with, I'd rather not make it worse.

[quantumvaudeville]

I keep forgetting I have a tumblr?? Here take this. Spot the reference, it's not subtle.

[delirisse-au]

Can you tell us more about the slasher au? I'm so curious about the story and lore. Why Narinder started killing people, why he killed Aym & Baal if he was friends with them, ect ect.

oh anon!! I would love to show you more. I have to do the CotL anniversary daily challenges first, but after that, I'll make a ₛₘₐₗₗ comic for you. Please take this half-finished preview in the meantime :D

[ballroom-stims]

x x x - x x x - x x x

Jinx from Arcane stimboard featuring eyeshadow, nail polish, lipstick, and makeup destruction.

[tomopri]

attack on my lovely qpp @drdiagnosis > <

[puppygirlclit]

Imagining like an Always Sunny style bit where someone walks in on me thinking abt things and they're like "are you thinking abt knives again?" And I'm like "no no I don't do it that much ok you're all just flanderizing me" ans they're like "Flanderizing?" And I'm like "Yeah you know flanderizing, where throughout the Simpsons, Flanders changes from a fully fleshed out character to just a bunch of little gimmicks as he is so characterized by those that it becomes all he's known for" and they're like "damn I'm sorry you know I didn't mean to flanderize you, I recognise that you're a whole and complex person and I know you're more than that" and they hug me and walk out of the room and then I open google and search "hot sexy knife videos"

[rafayel-fishie-moving]

cw — angst + mild violence (knife)

she no longer feels the chill of the desert in his kiss, but when they part, she frowns. her eyes downcast towards the curved blade beside them where she picks it up again. she places it in the palm of rafayel’s hands before she speaks once more …

“you know elder amund was telling me old tales of lemuria. the tales about a great god of the sea and his most devout follower. then he spoke of a traditional ceremony in which the heart of the follower will sustain lemuria…” she recounts, brushing her finger across the handle of the blade.

she draws rafayel’s hand to hold the blade to her chest. his pressure feather-lite as the tip of the knife rests above her heart. “is that why you have returned? to take my life and restore the seas rafayel? is… is that what you need?” she says, blinking her eyes up at him as she touches his cheek.

she squeezes her eyes shut signifying her readiness for death at the hands of him.

—💌🦈

"what is your highness doing?"

he questions, watching as she takes the blade and places it in his hands. his brows furrow, listening to her intently, his eyes spell something that cannot be read, years of practicing or rather, years full of emptiness upon losing her.

yet he remains still. listening to her words that elder amend told her. then the flashbacks occur. the sea god's ceremony with his devout follower play through his head like an old movie projector, the smiles they shared followed to that day.

he never took her heart. the prophecy states to do so, in order to return the seas that dried up because of the heart that beats in his beloved's chest. but he will go against it. and so, with a swift movement, he takes the blade, careful not to harm her as he flips it around his fingers.

he gaze drifts to blade then to her, taking the side of it to make her look up at him. he does so with diligence ensuring not a cut can be made on her beautiful skin as he leans in close.

"open your eyes and look at me."

he commands, voice firm as he slides the tip of his blade down to her chest before pull it away and sheathing the blade, ensuring it is nowhere near her, his gloved fingers curl to cup her chin, eventually moving downward to wrap around her neck loosely as he keeps eye contact with her.

"our vow is eternal, your highness. that's why i'm here. now, it's late. you must rest. we'll leave in the morning."