#{closed ;;}

[weakermoments]

@ghostprince-rule asked:

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ✧ Kick

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ-`  🔪  ´-  【  “ —KICK.  me  again,  Atticus,  and  you'll  find  yourself  CHOKING  on  shards  of  your  own  shattered  bones. ”

[littlebadger]

@goatfated ♡'d for a starter.

  ㅤ-` 👻 ´- 【  “ Hey there, demons, it's me, ya boi-- ”  Maybe HUMOR will appear to these beings' SOFT sides... He hoped. 

[blunderbots]

@crime-marten​ // STARTER

   When Cubot had told Orbot that the scent of the stolen cargo’s thief led them back to Metropolis, Orbot wanted to tell him he was stupid–but it hadn’t been a lie. Instead of the city proper, the scent took them to an underbelly that took “eye of the storm” to a whole new level. This was a place hidden under Metropolis, just managing to skirt past the numerous patrols and curfew laden streets of the Eggman Owned City. The people who lived here all had one thing in common: their hatred of Eggman… and the fact they didn’t belong anywhere else.

   Clearly they thought themselves clever, having found ways to survive out of harms’ way right under the Capital City of the Empire itself, but the looks on their faces at the sight of Eggman’s personal guard walking through their streets showed clearly that hope had drained from them. Orbot and Cubot didn’t show much in the way of a reaction–maybe Eggman had known about this place, maybe he didn’t.

         It wasn’t like it made a difference to these two. Nobody             escaped the Empire. Nobody got out unscathed.

   With a gesture of his finger, Cubot tilted his head in the direction of a doorway covered by a cloth, and Orbot nodded, drawing his laser pistol. The Labrador pushed the draped cover out of the way, shining artificial light into the room and interrupting the crowd that stood within.

   “Well what do we have here, Cubot?‌                      It looks like an auction of stolen goods.”

      “BUSTED, ZOMBIES!”

   “Again, with the zombies thing…?”

[tingethehedgehawk]

@the-darkest-hedgehogs​ started following you!

❝ Hey, faker. ❞ 

Tinge couldn’t keep a straight face and cracked up at her bad attempt at being edgy.

❝ Pfft. Just kidding. Guess we should start a club or something, there’s a lot of red striped hedgefolk around. I’m Tinge. Tinge the Hedgehawk. Who are you? ❞

[lv-bites]

---------------( I loved this ask so much, I have two different responses for it. )

         Tough’s tent was a complete and utter mess. Where usually this leader of the hellish gang known as the Surprisingly Severe appeared as a calm and collected yet somewhat whimsical individual, without his active dosage of Snake’s Tongue, he was more akin to a beast plagued by madness and hallucinations.

         Pain, be it real or all in his mind, wracked his system and he lay on the floor, coiled tightly around himself as he held his head, eyes wide as colors and images swam and curved in his mind–through his glassy vision. Voices, hushed and screaming flooded his ear canals and it seemed as if all noise was either too much or too quiet.

         Silence stung and sound sliced through him… the pain, the anger–the fear as inside his heart, inside his head, madness–madness… The screams of a child beaten and tortured and burned alive for the amusement of his captors… It all hit him again and again while he watched as a helpless third party, helplessly witnessing his own trauma over and over again.

         Poe’s voice–was that Poe’s voice?–was barely comprehensible… A simple question became more than that, became a taunt.

        You’re nothing without your drugs, you pathetic waste.                 You call yourself a man?

         His attention snapped upward, flecks of venom flicking off his fangs as they oozed more of the toxic substance–violet pools of confusion dripped and spread on the dirt under him, his eyes wild.

        “WHAT WOULD YOU KNOW ABOUT BEING                 A MAN?”

         Responding to questions not even posed, Poe’s single figure was replaced by many more shadows–all of them laughing, grinning, jeering. His head swam in agony, his hood flaring outward as his fangs bared towards the shadows. “SSHUT UP, SSSHUT UP!!!‌”

        He had been late with his dosage, he’d been too callous. This was a mistake he shouldn’t have made, and now, it was all coming undone–withdrawal wasn’t something he could handle, the severity of every passing minute was akin to a heart attack, a complete shut down of his mental state, and he’d been like this for four hours.

        At his weakest, most vulnerable… and yet his most deadly. A ticking timebomb of anguish. Despite every warning sign being up, this was a cry for help. Tough poised his body, choosing a target–which so happened to be his favorite member of the S.Severe, and lunged.

[goldenmajesty]

@bornchaos​

+:｡.+ ☀️ +.｡:+  《  She was backed into a corner  —for she was  AFRAID  of humans—  and rightfully so,  as  twice,  her pride had to move locations after men burned down the trees and set up snares to trap animals in.

                               She was afraid,  but she showed no fear,  at least,  not in her  eyes,  or the way she  snarls.  Go away,  go  AWAY,   GO  A W A Y…!

[p0publur]

@greengreasehog​

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad...” She was definitely no chef, though, “I mean, it’s... it’s soup! And I didn’t even burn it.” Maybe...