#sabotajuu

[fearhiimself-a]

He doesn't know what a 'Naruto' is, but you bet he's playing Fighting Dreamers out of spite.

❝  you.... you’re next.  i don’t know what this shit is, but i don’t like it.  ❞

[zweiherzen]

then kill me, coward

     ... HE COULD ,  but it’s against his medical principles to kill twinks.

[delinqucncy]

thekillerstory replied to your post: half joking and half not but this is frank

I CAN’T STAND THIS FSDJLFH I’M CRYING

sabotajuu replied to your post: half joking and half not but this is frank

danny is going to fucking decimate him

JAKE is going to fucking decimate him

this is the kinda sacrifice that frank makes for real hip hop ...... look at all these haters. not gonna stop him from promoting his sOUNDCLOUD

[iraful]

@sabotajuu    gets    the    entity     /     sc.

❛    the  crows  speak  well  of  you  ,    jake     ―     &&     they  speak  well  of  few  ,    ❜    whispers  from  every  direction  envelope  survivor  as  a  mist  darker  than  the  night  curl  ‘round  victim’s  ankles  .    a  cold  digit  runs  up  his  spine  ,    ❛    i  wonder  what  they  see  in  you     ―     what  makes  you  so  special  .    ❜

[rpstars]

Hi there! Would you have any PSD recommendations for Klaus Hargreeves from The Umbrella Academy? Thanks a ton!

MOXIE

PENELOPE

TEEN SPIRIT

NEW KID

TOOTHACHE

SALACIOUS

[wholeads-moved-blog]

@sabotajuu   /   sc.

                              ❝       how  are  you  today   ,     jake   ?       ❞

                 gaze  remains  focused  on  small  notebook  in  leader’s  possession   ,     trusty  fountain  pen  scribbling  numbers     &&     barely - organized  thoughts  onto  yellowed  pages  as  soft   ,     yet  genuine   ,     question  breaks  up  normally  quaint  silence  between  pair  of  survivors   .       writing  stops  as  glance  is  thrown  over  slipping  lenses  towards  companion   ,     waiting  for  an  answer  that  may  never  come   ,     before  returning  to  the  work  at  hand   .

[fogmanipulated-blog]

@sabotajuu 

throughout many, many trials, vigo had come to understand that altruism could be as much of a benefit as it could be a hindrance. this, he had seen time and time again— and had experienced time and time again. this trial would be the latter.

rushed rescue from a rusted hook had lead the clown to end his chase of the transient occultist early, the killer choosing instead to focus the newly freed survivor with vigor. there was little to do to aid her when on the other end of coldwind farm, vigo helplessly watching as the artist was once again strung up for the rest to see. as she struggled, the teacher had come to help once more but was quickly caught out. the clown hooked him as the entity took it’s first offering. it then took it’s second as vigo was flushed out of hiding, a generator popping in time with the sound of shattering glass. somewhere in his mad rush to escape, bleeding and disoriented, he had found the survivalist.

Jake Park.

now there was only two survivors left, huddled in a shack together, with three generators still needing to be done in order for them to escape. vigo sits by the window, applying a bandage  whilst keeping a lookout for the clown. a cursory glance is thrown in the other’s direction ‘fore words are spoken aloud

‘ —you didn’t help them. ’

it’s more inline with a question then an accusation, brows furrowing somewhat. he’s more an outside than anything, unfamiliar with the relationships between dwight’s flock. perhaps there were issues. maybe it was a case of self-preservation. it’s not as though he has room to speak. he hadn’t managed to help them either.

[delinqucncy]

➤ @sabotajuu asked:  just fuckin BITES him >:(

the teeth sinking furiously into the inside of frank’s forearm  draw from him a panicked screech  ( audible from miles around, he’s sure — the survivors who live through this trial will have a fucking wild tale to tell )  and a  “ crazy motherFUCKer ! ”  The assault does its job; his knife drops, sent tumbling through Frank’s fingers and into a patch of grass as he thrashes against the man latched to his arm, free hand clawing frantically at Jake’s neck and jaw. It’s not long before chilling dread and reason set in: he’ll have more luck shaking a dog off than this son of a bitch.

With a wounded grunt, he snatches Jake’s shoulder and slams foward into the bigger man with all his bodily weight. Luck is on his side — it tosses Jake off balance enough for Frank to plow him into the side of a tree. It quivers above them, startled, the cacophony of crows fleeing and dry leaves showering down piercing in Frank's eardrums as he rams his chin down onto Jake’s head with brutish strength. Enough to dislodge both the mask and the crazy bastard’s teeth !  It’s with a snarl that Frank snatches a handful of thick hair, dragging a stubborn head up to smash it against the trunk. He snarls, mouth stained red from the lower lip he’s gnashed to shreds — drags Jake’s head back further, and lunges forth to close teeth down on an exposed nose. 

He thinks he hears the sound of Jake howling, the cries piercing above the blood pounding in his skull as he forces his jaw tighter. Jake flails, beats his fists against Frank hard enough to leave bruises that will linger on the back of his shoulders for weeks; still, Frank persists. Until, snap !  comes the sound of cartilage breaking beneath his teeth. He throws his head back, vicious and victorious, and tears flesh with a sickly RIP from its face. Hot blood gushes, coating his tongue in its metallic bitterness. It’s dizzying, nauseating, and sends him stumbling back until clumsy feet send him plummeting backwards into grass and dirt. 

By the time Frank’s spat the chunk of flesh  ( what looks like half of Jake’s nose )  out from his mouth and grovelled through grass in a haze to fumble for his knife, the other man has vanished into the thick of the fog. He clutches the handle, his arm still flaring with the ache of the fierce bite, and plunges forth into the mist.

He’ll have the rest of what’s left before this trial crawls to its end.