#stabbing as a metaphor for penetration

[vesperpharsalius]

no but the cassius/darrow stabbing scene made me insane something about him smelling cassius' neck and remembering when he called him brother

I hate and love their confrontation and darrow's passage at the same time. it tore them apart but it's also so delicious

No, but seriously, let’s revisit, anon—

I only feel a horrible tightness as alien metal slides into my body and warmth gushes out. I forget to breathe. Then I gasp. My body shivers. Hugs the sword. I smell Cassius's neck. He's close. Close as when he used to cup my head and call me brother. His hair is oily. Dignity leaves me and I begin to whimper like a dog. Throbbing pain blossoms—begins like a pressure, a fullness of metal in my stomach, and becomes an aching horror. I shudder for breaths, gulp at them. Can't breathe. It's like a black hole in my gut. I fall back moaning.

This is just… wow. He can smell his neck? See the oil in his fucking hair? (Which, btw, doesn’t make sense hairwise, because the only issues Cassicurls should be having, at this point in the game, are greasy roots and lack of definition, but we’ll let it slide; for anyone curious, here’s the ask I answered on his hair, lol.)

Their breath is absolutely mingling. Foreheads probably touching. Lips hovering close. (Could they… kiss? Hmm. Perhaps. In a certain fic, they just might.)

Darrow moans as Cassius slowly penetrates him. He gasps and shivers at the horrible tightness. Whimpers pathetically from the throbbing pain and the blossoming pressure. Shudders breathlessly at the fullness and the ache of the intrusion.

Sure, there’s always an inherent eroticism to violence, but this is something else. PB, what was your state–of–mind here?

‘I will write a stabbing scene so deliciously gay and stunningly intimate that it’s one of the spiciest moments in my whole series.’

Ngl, it won me over. I was casually vibing with the book before, but this straight–up savaged me. Tbf, there were several reasons why this scene resonated beyond the steaminess but—oof. Inject more of this freaky shit directly into my veins, please.

(And PB did.)

[fascinationsublime]

I just need you guys to know that stabbing is not only a metaphor for penetration in books and literature and fiction but also in like real life. Like in the real world when people cannot do the penetration sometimes they'll stab the person instead

stabbing as a metaphor for penetration is great but when are we going to talk about pressing down on where someone is wounded to disarm them or just to be cruel while fighting. does nobody else care about the perverse intimacy of knowing exactly where to touch to overpower someone. the grotesque vulnerability of it. especially if you're the one who wounded them in the first place.

[bruciemilf]

So I just found out Deadpool and Wolverine released during the Wolverine mating season. Which could mean nothing.

[lambmotifz]

something something dean + penetration metaphor/motif. the amount of times he killed/tried to kill someone by brutally penetrating them….

[graciereadshannigram]

Kinktober Day 11: Knife Play

this certainly got me out of my comfort zone, but what can i say, "stabbing as a metaphor for penetrative sex" really just writes itself.

Will Graham arrives at Hannibal Lecter’s home with a knife, his intentions dark and intimate. What begins as a silent confrontation quickly spirals into a dangerous dance of violence and desire. As the knife pierces Hannibal's flesh, the line between pain and pleasure blurs, binding them together in an erotic exchange that threatens to consume them both. aka, what if Will showed up at Hannibal's home post-release from the BSHCI with a knife instead of a gun?

hope y'all enjoy, please let me know what you think!! <3

[haku23]

they piss me off so bad... it's so compelling to me still idgaf

[ferrettooth]

Yea yea no- he committed mizumono...gutted me like a fish, said he gave me a rare gift but i didn't want it--i mean...didn't i??? But i guess he couldn't leave without me...yea he killed the man-made sacrificial lamb we housed as a daughter too. break up? didn't you listen?? I'm planning a trip to italy as we speak♡

[dicklessthewonderclown]

[edwardteachswombtattoo]

Bold of OFMD to establish that Anne Bonny pegs her butch girlfriend.

[loderlied]

got tagged by @todderwodders for wip wednesday thank you!!!! i originally wanted to share a part of a fic but. the shame goblins got me lol. so have some art instead. hope that’s okay. another screenshot redraw like that berserk panel but devilman this time!

[defensivelee]

when an italian girl stabs you out of self defense can you fucking react normally

[prince-of-orchids]

If another knight (who is also my former lover from my untamed days as a plucky young soldier) showed up to your castle to challenge and I had to duel him to the death for your honor, and you had to watch from the stands tracing my body in your mind as you watch me move in tandem, rough and sweaty and grunting with this man you know I once shared myself with, secretly wishing it was you I was so intently focused on, would that be hot or what?

- 🪓

(long time no see)

The appearance of a knight unknown to me was initially not surprising. One would assume a royal would be somewhat familiar with the guards who do and do not belong at the castle, yet it is no secret only one knight truly holds my attention. The ensuing challenge was an annoying formality at first, but then a duel to the death called you to take up arms for the honor of your prince. As the arrangements are made it's hard to keep the possesive flares at bay, especially once I learn of your prior relationship with the other knight. How dare they come into my domain and seek to claim your body once more, if not for himself then for death. To steal the breath from your overexerted lungs, and lay their own blood drawn marks upon your skin. Your days of wandering wherever your order of chivalry bade you, and seeking the company of other rough hands in the night are over. They've since made way for the stability my castle walls provide, and the comfort you find in my arms. He'd lost you long before you swore an oath to me, and now your home and heart, my darling knight, lie solely with your prince.

Even with my station, I am not allowed to interfere with duel. However that does not stop me from trying to add to your motivation. The keen eyes of the kingdom are on us now so subtlety is key. A few light yet lingering touches on your paldrons that shift just barely to the curve of your neck. Some vague whispers when we're just out of earshot about caring for your injuries and then caring for you in other ways. After the duel you may just have to lay back and take whatever I'm willing to give, you wouldn't want to agrivate your wounds with any strenuous activities after all. Anything to try and keep at least some portion of your mind dedicated to thoughts of me. Of course when the final hour arrives and the crowds have gathered I'll offer you a token of my favor; a hankerchief to tie onto your armor.

When the duel begins it's clear to me who the victor will be. Your prowess with a sword is well known; you hadn't garnered my initial notice for nothing after all. You're at home in the field of battle. Confident footwork resulting in a back and forth dance as you dodge and strike. The line of your body rigid yet dynamic. I've seen and cataloged every inch of you, so it's not hard to picture the underlying muscle all coiled with controlled anticipation, and ready to react at the slightest move from your opponent. Or the flex of your arm as it extends with another quick parry and arching slash.

You're nothing but an absolute marvel to behold. Which makes it all the more troubling to know the subject of your focus and efforts is not me. The consistent faltering of your opponent exposes their folly. This poor washed-up old lover of yours still operating on whatever impression you left in your absence. Still thinking, perhaps wishing, you are just as you were before, that fledgling soldier. And yet there's is still that underlying familiarity. The comfortability of sharing a space that speaks of nights spent trading blows on training mats and shifting bodies on bedrolls. By circumstance, this pitiful thing still demands your attention in full. The dance for two, the anticipation of a partner, and the eyes narrowed with single-minded focus. Action and reaction that should be ours to share.

In the end the killing blow is brutal, yet quick and efficient. When your opponent is knocked down to their knees and his battered face gazes up at you, there are no last words spoken. No quiet exchange of what-if's or muttered appologies. Just one more precise swing of your sword and the body crumbles in the dirt. You look haggard as you remove your helm. Your breaths are coming out short, and both sweat and dirt stubbornly cling to your face. The splatters of blood have started to drip down, leaving shining stripes of red across your armor. Finally the world rights itself again as you turn to meet my eyes in full, and I am blessed with the brutal visage of a knight radiant with victory. Amongst the cheering masses of the public, I gaze back at you with unabashed adoration and unsatiated desire in equal measure. You are mine once more.

(Hello again! It is an absolute pleasure to hear from you as always, and I hope the days are treating you well :] )

[adelaidedrubman]

@nightbloodbix you understand my vision

[morelikeoscarthanoscar]

gay people can never fuck normally they have to stab each other

[supernaturalist1234]

how the hell did they NOT kiss?!?

[bittersweetblasphemy]

hey what if two immortal rivals who are doomed to come back each time one kills the other for all eternity but they get into weird sex about it

they've been fighting for so long they can't remember what a gentle touch feels like and so the only way they can express their affection is the same way they express their hate.