#piigsaw

[papalrot]

❛        JOHN  SAYS  HELLO   ,            ❜              it  is  innocent  enough ,     said  with  the  charisma  of  one  simply  commenting  on  the  weather   .          there  is  little  to  be  read  from  his  BLANK  expression  but  he’s  said  it  ,      clearly.         

papa  holds  his  strong  chin  high  .           he  looks  younger  from  this  angle ,      albeit  the  slight  salt  &  pepper  of  his  side  burns  are  a  quick  give - away  that  he,  too,  is  also  not  immune  to  the  rot  of  mortality .      the moment starts like this:      :     with  a  hand  along  the  bar  and  black  leather  gloves  gripping  it’s  absinthe  like  it’s  the  last  it’ll  ever,  ever  have.                     ❛          tell  me  ,          DID GOD ABANDON  YOU  ?        are  you  alone,        do  you  like  being  alone   ?        ❜       

@piigsaw​ ​​  -  a  manipulative starter  call

[eatsrude]

@piigsaw / sc 

“ It’s understandable that you would THANK HIM -- though the experience, I’m sure, was a traumatic one ... it’s natural to want to thank your savior.  He took your life from you, but the one he gave back to you was arguably worth more ... Tell me, Amanda, do you feel REBORN ? “ 

[dbsteve]

"What happened? You're bleeding" except it's said with so much sarcasm

ANSWERED HERE ! 

[dbsteve]

@piigsaw​   / ASKED ! :  "What happened? You're bleeding" except it's said with so much sarcasm

STEVE GROANS THEN,    it’s    the    worse    feeling.    bleeding    out.    the    way    the    pain    blasts    but    the    warm    liquid    is    just    spilling    out    of    him.    his    head    is    dizzy    and    he    can    barely    hear    the    voice    through    the    frankly    ridiculous    mask.    he    coughs,    hand    resting    over    the    knife    wound.    he    frowns    then,    eyebrows    shifting    inwards,    disgusting    painted    on    his    face.    

fear    sings    at    the    back    of    his    head,    he    doesn’t    know    if    he’s    the    first    to    go    down.    but    it    feels    kinda    good    distracting    her    with    him,    giving    time    to    the    other’s    to    do    whatever.    it’s    fine,    it’s    better    this    way.        “   -man...   ”    he    chuckles    “    ...fuck    you.    ”

𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗖𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗘𝗗 / 𝗦𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗣𝗧𝗦.

[citysinks]

@piigsaw​ / sc. 

“ I don’t really understand your methodology.  Does it work ?  Do the people who come out the other sides of your trials appreciate their lives ?  Do you think it could help me ? “  Has anyone ever VOLUNTEERED for their horrors ?  Has anyone ever asked to be put through the pigs hell ? 

[executionrr]

"don't have me that look" two judges sitting in a trial many feet apart because they're both 🔪

𝙷𝙴     𝙲𝙰𝙽     𝙵𝙴𝙴𝙻     𝙷𝙴𝚁     𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙵𝚄𝚂𝙸𝙾𝙽,     how     she     wears     it     like     a     noose     wrapped     aptly     around     her     neck     as     she     brandishes     the     weight     of     her     wounds.     how     such     a     title     akin     to     the     executioner’s     own     divine     duty     was     worn     by     her,     and     how     it     broke     her     like     some     animal     raging     against     instincts     and     compelled     to     become     what     it     could     not.     still     she     seems     to     try     and     try.     &     SHE     WILL     DIE     BAYING.     O’     RED     GOD     SATE     THESE     HUNGRY     GROUNDS     WITH     THE     BLOOD     OF     THE     WICKED !                                                                                           poor     creature,     daughter     to     no     one,     swaddled     in     barbed     wire     by     hands     bathed     in     blood.     &     tested     and     tested     until     she     shattered.     𝚍𝚘     𝚢𝚘𝚞     𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚙     𝚏𝚘𝚛     𝚑𝚒𝚖?      yes,     he     saw     it     all,     could     trek     through     her     sin     with     ease.     while     those     like     kazan     would     perhaps     feel     contempt     for     such     a     flawed     creature     attempting     to     lay     claim     to     a     title     as     heavy     as     a     judge,     the     holy     apostle     before     her     felt     no     such     thing.     for     he     was     the     unbiased     arbiter     of     retribution,     and     the     last     hope     for     those     like     her.    

𝚃𝙷𝙴     𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙸𝚃𝚈     𝚆𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳     𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴     𝙸𝚃     𝚂𝙾     𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃     𝙷𝙴     𝚆𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳     𝙽𝙾𝚃     𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙵𝙴𝚁𝙴     𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷     𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁     𝙺𝙸𝙻𝙻𝙴𝚁𝚂,     but     the     entity     could     not     𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜     wrangle     the     red     god     so     easily     for     he     bowed     to     no     god     other     than     his     own.     and     yet     she     speaks     unto     his     unmoving     effigy,     towering     and     looming     form     soaked     in     the     blood     of     the     damned     and     christened     by     their     cries.     ‘     don’t     give     me     that     look.     ’               -----     he     has     found     the     vulnerability     she     holds,     for     she     all     but     laid     it     at     his     feet.     his     hidden     gaze     is     never     moved     from     her,     and     though     he     never     speaks,     𝚒𝚝     𝚒𝚜     𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕.     let     her     fester,     let     her     mind     roam     horribly     as     he     stands     there     peering     unto     her     and     forcing     her     to     face     the     fear     of     judgment     that     would     soon     come.                                                                                                 o’     lost     one,     you     know     not     what     he     wants     from     you     but     he     will     not     allow     you     to     run     from     yourself     any     longer.

[smugliar]

♠ 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕥 𝕗𝕠𝕣 @piigsaw

     His tongue has the metallic taste of metal. It lingers like a bad shot of tequila. A freshly discarded trap, rattling against the pavement close by, the snap of the jaws ringing against the cement walls.

     Visconti’s cheeks are raw, he knows there is blood. Faint nicks from the trap its self, corners of his grin cut. It is enough for it to sting. The gambler stands rigid on his feet, heavy breaths come out in puffs as sweat wets his hair and brow, eyes set on the woman in front of him. 

     Crooked judgement hangs in the air. He can imagine the arrows pointed at him. Bright flashing neon. 

     “ That head gear is a bitch, cerdita.” An asthmatic laugh, smirk wavering. Adrenaline is pumping sending a tremble to his hands, calling a bluff to his relaxed persona. 

     “ Did braces really traumatize you that much? ”