Black CF pattern Holstex for a UK customers Brous Silent Soldier .
The customer asked for a slimmer lower profile sheath for both neck carry and belt carry via a tek lock belt clip . Ive also added a secondary retention system in the form of some Mil-spec shock cord with a micro cord-lock which then allows the user owner to set there own level of retention for when the knife is inverted for neck carry on a technora 950 lanyard .
Custom knives , sheaths and gear from firstname.lastname@example.org
Apparently if you had to ship me with someone (because I literally held a knife to your necks) it was mostly Hank? So I figured I better write one of the requests I’d been putting off for him then.
I’m curious though, why?
Set at the beginning ish of First Class
“Could you write one for Hank (beast) from xmen where you’re this super nerdy person who listens to pop punk and wears band Tshirts a lot so people get confused about you and you end up telling mistique that you have a crush on Hank but she knows you don’t know his mutation and when she sets you up with him he thinks that you could never love him but you can and its just really fluffy? If that makes sense. Sorry. Xx”
This was hard to write so sorry but it’s my first Hank one so yay!
You were one of the new recruits, but one person thought you were different to the others. While the others were loud and proud of their mutations, taking every chance to show them off, you were quiet, only slipping in a nerdy comment here and there.
Hank seemed to be the only one to get your references, laughing quietly to himself and trying not to draw too much attention to his amusement. He liked your band t-shirts and the way you hid your smirk from the others at their antics.
He liked you.
You’d told Raven quietly, when she’d asked that you liked him too. She’d smiled, but hidden her thoughts that maybe you wouldn’t like him so much once you found out about his true mutation. He’d told you that he was just a genius, telling you nothing about the rest of him. Yet still, Raven had set the two of you up.
“Raven!” Hank had said in an exasperated tone when she’d told him, running his hands through his hair anxiously. “They’re not going to like me, not when they find out what my mutation is.”
“It’ll be fine.” Raven said, leaning against one of the ladders in the room which Hank was working on the jet in.
“You can’t know that!”
“I know a lot more than you think.” She smirked. Hank frowned at her, confused until your voice came from behind him.
He didn’t turn around, glaring at Raven. Her smirk grew as she sauntered past him, fixing his hair, “Go get them, Hank.” She smiled and left the room.
He turned to you, his little awkward smile on his lips. “Hi.”
You grinned, “I’m sorry if I scared you or anything.”
“No, it’s fine. I just- I need to talk to you.”
“About your mutation?”
“I know what it is.”
“You do? Who?”
You smiled, “Does it matter?”
He shook his head.
“Good. Because it doesn’t matter to me either. I really like you Hank.”
He couldn’t help but smile, “That’s good.”
“Oh is it?”
“Yeah, because I really like you too.”
“Really?” You smirked.
“Really.” Hank said, kissing the smirk right off your lips.
i didn’t think i’d find myself writing about you all too soon. i didn’t think you’d end up meaning so much to me in the course of a week. and me being me, my feelings aren’t limited to butterflies fluttering around in my stomach - it is a full-blow bash to the head and a throbbing in my heart. i have not yet learnt how to love someone without the love consuming me whole. i will not tell you this. mainly because i’m too afraid. because the idea of a future together makes me happier than most other things. but will we sacrifice our present for a supposed future?
i can feel your knife on my neck and it’s inching closer. kill me now, before it’s too late.
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Bella was panicking. She knew she should have just stayed where she was – hiding was a cowardly thing, but at least it kept her safe – instead of wondering off to see if she could find anyone. It was then that a minion grabbed her from behind and pulled her away from the crowds and pulled a knife on her – they could kill her right now, and no one would even know. She tried to stay calm, but that was so difficult to do when she could see them bringing their knife closer to her neck. She closed her eyes tightly – she didn’t want to see what would happen next.
WARNING(S): Mentions of violence/torture, if you don’t like any of it, please, DO NOT PROCEED.
“Your jewelry, money, all valuables, hand them to me NOW!”
screamed a man in your face while holding a knife to your neck making a few
beads of blood escape from your tender flesh. “Alright, alright, relax. I’m
taking off my jewelry. See?” You said calmly while taking your bracelet off and
pulling your rings from your fingers in a slow manner.
You were going to meet Kilgrave in a restaurant nearby, to go
there quickly, you took a shortcut, through an abandoned alleyway as you were
already late. But unfortunately, you had a situation
on your hands now. The best way to get rid of it was to do as told.
While you were taking off your wristwatch, you heard a firm
voice say “Step away from the lady” in a British accent making you sigh in
relief. You smiled and looked up to see your boyfriend Kilgrave standing there
with a hardened expression. To say he was pissed is an understatement. If looks could kill.
You were immediately by his side hugging him, finally feeling
safe in his embrace. He hugged you back and let go after a few seconds gently
pushing you off, so that you could stand next to him. Oh boy, he wasn’t done yet. “Who the hell are you!?” Said the
man in fear pointing his knife towards Kilgrave and moving back.
“Shut up and don’t move”
he said, immediately making the mugger shut his mouth and stand like a statue.
“You okay sweetheart?” he asked you in a calm manner. “Yeah” you replied with a
faint smile trying to hide your fear for what he was gonna do to him. “Good. Now, what shall we do with
you? Hmm?” he said looking at the mugger.
“Look away honey” he said lightly making you hesitantly look
back, over his shoulder while biting your lip nervously. “Slit your throat” he
ordered, and looked over at you. But then his gaze landed on your neck and he
bit the inside of his jaw in anger. “No, wait” he said as the mugger was tenth
of a second away from cutting his throat.
“That would be a little too merciful for hurting my love. Don’t
you think? Why don’t you..” he thought for a moment and then said “gouge out
your eyes and cut your fingers off, one by one and then draw a few designs you
know, on your body, until you die of blood loss” he said in a emotionless manner.
“No, Kilgrave wait. Please”
you pleaded not wanting the poor man to suffer anymore. You tugged at his arms
making him look at you. “Stop” he said to the mugger. “Just, let it slide.
Please, Kilgrave. He didn’t do much har-“ “your bleeding” he sternly said. “I’m
okay” you lightly smiled.
“Look, if you really wanna kill him, then you just do it
instead of torturing him” after a few minutes he finally gave his reply.
“Alright” he let go of you and went towards the mugger and
lightly whispered in his ear, “do it when we leave” he said patting his back
and coming towards you, wrapping his arm around your waist, leading you out of
the alleyway. “What did you say to him?” you asked curiously looking at him.
“Nothing much” he shrugged. “I just told him to stab himself in the stomach
once and then leave to get aid” he said with a slight smirk.
I hope you liked it! I haven’t seen Jessica Jones, but I tried my best after researching on him. I hope he stayed in character and that this was up to your expectations. :D
Before the shark could get any closer Dean whipped his blade up, pressing it sharply against the shark’s neck. “Oh, I don’t think so,” he said with a wide grin. “Aren’t you meant to be hunting me, or something?”
“I could still eat you, pretty boy,” the shark snarled, tail thrashing. He didn’t have lacy fins like Dean did; rather, he was exactly like one would expect – sleek and grey, designed for speed and strength and not flashy displays of beauty.
Dean hummed. He trailed his knife around the shark’s neck as he swam around him, eyeing up his tail and the strong muscles of his back and shoulders. He felt an odd stirring in his stomach that he knew to be arousal and shook it off. He always popped boners at inappropriate times. “You think I’m pretty?”
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so a few days ago the writers room uploaded a drawing of a man with a beard and what looks like a buttchin with a knife to their neck. Do you think it could be bellamy?
Yes. But it was actually a fountain pen at his throat, not a knife.
But I don’t think it was meant to mean “we’re going to kill him.” I think it was meant to say, “we are going to put him in peril. We are always going to put him in peril, because that’s what we do, we are the writers who like to make you scared, muahahahaha.”
Bellamy/Clarke prompt: “I came up behind you and squeezed you around the waist because I thought you were someone else and now you’re staring at me and I’m blushing like a fool”
Bellamy saunters down to the fire, catching a flash of dark blonde hair. His lips curl up in a smile, and he thinks back to the night prior; to a blonde girl named Evelyn with her hands in his hair and her skin on his. He walks up behind her, arms slipping around her waist, lips pressed to her neck. “Morning.” He murmurs. It takes a moment for him to realize the scent is wrong, the length of the hair is wrong, it’s all wrong. By the time he does, he’s been shoved off, and has a knife pressed to his neck. Clarke Griffin stands before him, lips pursed, jaw set. He fucked up. “Bellamy?” A small voice asks. He looks over, and sees Evelyn off to the side, brows furrowed. Clarke notices, and Bellamy’s cheeks flush scarlet. She frowns, and turns towards Evelyn, arms crossed. “Oh, you too?” She asks. Evelyn’s face falls, and Clarke moves forward, patting the girl on the arm. “I’m guessing he didn’t tell you about me.” “You?” Evelyn asks. Clarke looks back at Bellamy, a mischievous look in her eyes. “I thought you knew. All of the other girls know about each other.” “Other girls?” Clarke nods sympathetically. “I’m so sorry.” Evelyn shifts her gaze to Bellamy, who stands watching them, in shock. She marches forward, and then her hand flies across his cheek. His mouth forms an O, and then Evelyn strides away, smoke coming out of her ears. Bellamy turns back to Clarke, who is barely suppressing her smirk. She shrugs a shoulder, and winks. He vows right then to make Clarke Griffin’s life a living hell.
This is called “Shane Kowalski, and Other Poems.” What’s the sport with the most psychic injuries? I want to watch that one.
It was morning and / Shane Kowalski was waking up / Except today he was waking up / with a knife at his neck! / You won’t get hurt / if you do everything / I say / said a masked intruder / Shane Kowalski was still waking up / from a dream / he was having / in sleep / about a lovely, gross affair / with the lady who sells pretzels on the / turnpike / Her hands! / her salty sweaty hands! / And so with the hands still in his head / he said / What? / What is happening? / What is this knife? / And because he still thought he was in / the dream / he thought / this was the pretzel / woman’s husband / I’m sorry I’m sorry / he started saying / The masked intruder said / Shut up / Then he slit / Shane Kowalski’s throat / Months later / in the hospital / the doctor / a woman of indeterminate heritage / was saying / I’m sorry Mr. Shane Kowalski / but we couldn’t quite reattach / your head / BUT! / what we could do is / reattach / your head to a very cute puppy’s body! / Look / the doctor said / Look / how cute / Woof woof / said the puppy / which now had Shane / Kowalski’s head / as its own / Days later / Shane Kowalski / the puppy / struck up a relationship / with the doctor / who / as it turns out / was a very good pretzel / maker! / I guess everything turned / out all right / said Shane Kowalski / Woof / woof!