#evil-little-rodent | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

godfistgonnalive · 2 months

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ultrakill dashboard simulator 2

🐉 grounded Follow

this grey bitch has no idea whats coming lol

1,271 notes

♦️ flesh-n-teeth Follow

Contrary to popular belief, I actually do not bite people.

592 notes

🍵 benign-rodent Follow

Can we talk about how incredibly problematic the Lust Renaissance was? I personally believe the Council had every right to send Gabriel to strike Minos down. It's appalling to think people come on this website and say that Minos was in the right. Do some research.

🌷 strayandferal Follow

are we seriously having this discussion in this day and age? not only is this just an evil thing to say, but saying "do some research" afterwards is just blatantly ignorant.

🍵 benign-rodent Follow

As you can see here, here, and here, these are some proof that the Lust Renaissance was actually super problematic for both Hell and Heaven. To have the gall to call me ignorant when you probably only know very little about this topic is embarrassing.

🌷 strayandferal Follow

those are all obviously extremely biased articles. i wasn't damned to hell yesterday. there's no sources on them, either. come back to me when you have actual proof.

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎ Expand‎

23 notes

💣 skullonmysleeve Follow

CAN THAT FUCKING SENTRY OVER THERE KNOCK IT OFF

1,197 notes

🔥 throughthefireandflames Follow

warning to all limbo-goers: watch out if you go any higher than the first part of the layer. i wandered into this air shaft (was curious if i could clean anything up there) and it's extremely dark. i feel like something is watching me

📎 wicked2 Follow

🔥 throughthefireandflames Follow

what. was that

2,765 notes

🟥 teeth-n-flesh Follow

i bite people

11,089 notes

💫 gabriel-judgeofhell Follow

Please do not contact me to strike down sinners you dislike.

🔘 meowrice-deactivated22340521

isnt that what you do for the council tho lol

45,698 notes

🩸 bloodpowered Follow

fuck v2 😞😞😞 #allmachinesarethesame no one talk to me 💔💔💔 #deactivating #abandoned 😢😢😢😢😢😢

🛒get-whiplashed Follow

i go fishing without you one time and this is what happens

4,522 notes

🌵 sandfan59 Follow

today i saw some biogenic sand!!! i think is super cool how its all tiny sea creature skeletons... i collected some in my container to bring home and examine im so excited to get a better look at them

🪨 rockenthusiast234 Follow

if you come to my part of greed i can share my sand i have and you can share any rocks you find

🌵 sandfan59 Follow

hell yes. can we make out

2,002 notes

🌟 heavenly-council Follow

6,345 notes

⚰️ gutterthem Follow

i just crashed my fucking tram listening to HELL'S GREATEST COUNTRY HITS VOL. 35 on the cd player and when i got off all the guttertanks and mannequins were laughing at me

#is it over for me

798 notes

#is this anything. again #ultrakill #sorry if this one isnt as funny #i tried..#unreality

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is-the-snake-video-cute · 10 months

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I'm really trying to understand the argument against live-feeding. I get the arguments against it, but isn't it natural? Isn't it just what snakes are supposed to do?

Sure, predation is natural. Snakes have evolved to be very effective hunters. But just because it's natural doesn't mean it's something we should want for our pets - it's also natural for wild snakes to die of injuries from their prey.

But live-feeding pet snakes isn't really natural at all, is it? Pet snakes are not wild snakes; they've never gone without food, they've never had to fight prey of a size they can't handle, they've never even had to develop their body strength in ways wild snakes do. In the wild, rodents aren't just dropped in containers with snakes with no way out, either. This situation isn't natural, I would argue it's a mockery of natural predation and it's not fair for either animal.

My thing here is...why shouldn't we try to make life as easy for our pets as possible? Predation isn't evil or wrong, that's not what I'm saying (predation is morally neutral, it just is), but, like many things in nature, it's not pretty and it's a scary way to go. Yes, rodents will always have to die so snakes can eat, but I think part of that trade is that we should have a little gratitude and make every effort to make it as painless for them as possible.

Like, it's natural for animals to eat other animals. But I don't make my dog go and hunt his own food, either, and I take steps to make sure he never gets hurt. Why shouldn't it be the same for my snakes? Avoiding live-feeding is safer for my snakes and more respectful for all the animals involved, I think. It's the same philosophy as why I make sure my snakes get plenty of enrichment, and have all their needs met, and are always handled with respect and care. If I have the ability to give the animals in my care the most gentle lives possible, why wouldn't I do everything I could to ensure that?

#not a rating #snake feeding #animal death

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girlboypersonthingy · 11 months

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can I request a list of like green flags and red flags for each of the characters in voltron? btw I love your writing:)

Hello friendo, thank you sm! Thanks for the request, I adore this idea. Also…Sorry y’all, I was posting like every other day for two weeks and then I hopped off for like two months. Oof life is really life-ing rn. I honestly chose to write this prompt before a lot of other requests bc it seems like an easy and short thing to bust out quickly. I swear, I will get to the rest eventually 🩵 keep sending in requests if you’d like! And as always… ENJOY~

KEITH ❤️

Red Flags 🚩

TERRIBLE AT COMMUNICATING. We all know Keith is stubborn and easily overwhelmed with a short temper. He doesn’t really know how to talk to people without getting angry. He feels that bc he has a hard time explaining exactly what he means, people never understand him and that makes him mad.

Bro isn’t scared of anything…and that low key scares everyone else. Like…who isn’t afraid of anything? The whole team has tried sooooo hard to figure out what will get Keith to jump out of his skin and scream like a child but to no avail… Boy just doesn’t flinch, doesn’t care, couldn’t care less about bugs and rodents and clowns and heights or anything like that.

Wears his gloves in the shower sometimes. Like wtf ???

Green Flags ✅

Also bc he is not afraid of anything, boy will protect his friends/family/partner SO HARD. He will verbally AND physically tear someone apart just for looking at you the wrong way. Very protective and caring but in a good way ya know?

Actually very selfless and not self-centered in the slightest. Keith is very giving and helpful, despite his tough exterior, he’s very caring, observant and considerate. He’ll give the shirt off his back to someone in need. He’s always down to help others. Ugh Sweet heart ❤️‍🔥

Has a sick ass space wolf that will also protect you like COSMO IS A MAJOR PLUS OKAY BIG GREEN FLAG DOGGO

LANCE 💙

Red Flags 🚩

Obvi his biggest red flag is how flirty he is. Boy will flirt with anything that breaths and that can get really annoying sometimes and affect the rest of the team.

Jealous AS FUCK. Like the petty jealous type. Lance is the kind of guy to pretend he has a partner back home just bc some alien girl he was flirting with said she had a partner already. He’s like “OH YEAH? Wow cool me too, same same, yeah….” But homie’s ego is a bit sore now…

Lies a lot. Lance just panics sometimes and tells a lie. He knows it’s wrong and he always feels guilty after lying to someone but it always just slips out. His mouth moves faster than his brain most the time.

Green Flags ✅

THE BEST HUGGER/CUDDLER OMFGGGGGG. Lance is the best hugger and cuddle buddy ever, period, end of story, try to change my mind. His long arms always stretch fully around the recipient’s torso and he squeezes tight enough to make you feel warm but not smothered. Usually will rest his chin on the other person’s head if they’re short enough (so Pidge obvi).

Very aware of other’s moods/body language/tone of voice. Everyone thinks Lance is “the dumb one” but he’s actually very in tune with what’s going on in the moment, what’s going on around him. I think he can tell how others feel the second he sees them. Good intuition kinda thing. An empath for sure.

Very considerate and often remembers the little things about people. Does he remember what he learned in class just a couple days ago? Pffft heck no! Does he remember everyone’s birthday, every year and get them a very thoughtful gift? HELL YEAHH I LOVE THIS SWEET BOY OMFG 🩵

SHIRO 🖤

Red Flags 🚩

Honestly…idfk Shiro is so perf. Perfect baby boy all the way

Maybe he could seem too nice at first…? Like when someone is nice but ur like “are you for real? Or are you fake and evil and you’re hiding something?” I think Shiro could be perceived as being fake nice at first.

Omg I feel like Shiro is one of those “ oh no, that looks delicious but I can’t. I’m watching my carbs.” YOU KNOW SHIRO IS A GYM DUDE WHO COUNTS HIS CALORIES PLZ

Green Flags ✅

ALSO AN A+ HUGGER. Imagine those big ass arms holding you so softly and so close to his big, warm body. Omg so comforting, so relaxing. Often gives a gently squeeze just before letting go and pulling away. Ugh 😩❤️‍🔥

Literally the most trustworthy man in the universe. Will defend his friends, loved ones, and planet until the end of time. Shiro would die before revealing any secrets you’ve asked him to keep. The best person to vent to bc he’ll never tell another soul about it. He’s like a personal diary

Shiro is sooooo patient. Definitely the most patient one on the team. He really does take his own advice…ya know, patience yields focus 😌 very sweet, calm man. We love Shiro

PIDGE 💚

Red Flags 🚩

GIRL WILL WORK HERSELF TO DEATH PLZ GO CHECK UP ON HER, BRING HER FOOD AND WATER, GENTLY FORCE HER INTO BED SHE NEEDS SLEEP.

Lowkey kinda moody and can get snappy very easily. Pidge is a sweet heart and very smart and a good team player but she’s also stubborn and will yell to get her point across or make herself heard (she’s an Aries…what’d you expect?)

Sometimes very conceited and braggy about how smart she is. Like yeah Pidge, we know you’re a genius and you could code in your sleep. WE GET IT. UR SMART. GEEZ 😒

Green Flags ✅

Pidge is so baby. Yeah, she can get snappy and braggy sometimes but…SHES SO BABY PLZ FORGIVE HER. She’s just young and stressed okay? Give her a break. She’ll apologize eventually with puppy dog eyes and a soft voice and while she looks adorable, she is being sincere and really wants to resolve this.

Very loyal and determined. I mean look how hard she searched and fought for her dad and brother. She won’t stop for anything or anyone once she has her mind set. Pidge Will never leave you behind and will always turn back to help someone in need.

Androgynous royalty. Pidge is soooo chill about her gender and identity. We love a confident babe 🏳️‍🌈💚

HUNK 💛

Red Flags 🚩

Boy is too scared sometimes. I think Hunk has really bad anxiety and it’s not the anxiety that is the red flag, it’s how he copes with it…which he doesn’t. Hunk let’s his anxiety get the best if him sometimes…but he’s trying.

Honestly…does Hunk really have any other red flags??? Baby boy is so sweet idk 🤷🏻

Over eats to the point of getting sick sometimes…and never learns his lesson. (Me asf)

Green Flags ✅

THE SWEETEST MOST CONSIDERATE AND THOUGHTFUL MAN IN THE UNIVERSE OMFG WHAT A SWEET HEART 😩💛 honestly just a very good guy. We love Hunk.

Obvi his cooking skills!!! Can cook for any occasion, on any cooking surface, in any conditions. Can cook so many different dishes from so many rich cultures around the world! So talented. His food always hits.

THE ABSOLUTE BEST at cheering others up. Soooo funny and silly and kind and relatable. He tries so hard to brighten others’ days when they need it. Will stop what he’s doing just to go cheer up a friend or loved one and watch them smile again.

MATT 🧡

Red Flags 🚩

Interrupts A LOT. In any given conversation, he will interrupt and talk over someone else at least once every minute. Can get really annoying sometimes but in his defense, if he waits too long to speak up, he’ll just totally forget what he was gonna say.

Like Lance, I think Matt would be overly flirty and act like a Fuck boy sometimes. Like bro sit your nerd ass down, that person is SOOO out of your league plz chill.

Can not take anything seriously (unless it comes to his family or his or anyone else’s safety) but day to day, Matt makes so many dumb and inappropriate jokes at the worst times. Ugh 😒

Green Flags ✅

Very brotherly to everyone he considers a friend or family. Protective, constantly checking up on others, making sure they have eaten, asking if they need anything from him. He cares a lot. Bonus points bc he’s a very good brother to his actual sibling too. Aww Pidge and Matt are sibling goals. 🥹

HOT AS FUCK NO MATTER HIS HAIR STYLE/LENGTH. You can fight me on this. Matt is gorg and so is his hair at every single moment throughout the show.

Extremely accepting and open minded. Matt treats everyone he meets equally and never seems phased when he meets others so different from himself. He may ask some questions for the sake of his own curiosity, but would never pass judgment on another person.

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cloudninetonine · 11 months

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👀 request open?

I see this and wonder if I can request minish Four accidentally getting stuck in like one of empty potion bottles and getting found by the Player.

💤

The noise that left your nose wasn’t short from amusement, your mushed lips and wide eyed fighting back the watery glaze that dared to cast over them not short from Four’s gaze as who looked back at you, unimpressed and scowling while he waited.

And waited.

“Well?”

“I’m sorry, I just-” You burst into cackles, hunching over with an almost painful belly laugh before hacking violenting from the force. “Oh my god, I fucking can’t-”

“Just get me out of here!”

You couldn’t help it you just couldn’t- the scene was akin to something from a movie. Four basked in his minish magic the size of a dainty little field mouse, brooding and slowly boiling to seething in the confinement of an ordinary household glass. A fucking glass- when Warriors had come out of the kitchen squealing about a rodent in the premises of Four’s home, you expected a minish though more an actual mouse (could the Captain even see the Minish?) So, without further adieu, you waltzed into the kitchen to deal with it as Warriors continued to curse “They’re on me! They’re in my clothes!”

And you found Four.

Looking as embarrassed as ever, sitting under the cup in his little glass prison and who only shrunk more when seeing your evil little grin.

You weren’t gonna let him live this down.

“Okay- okay.” Giggling you reached out, grabbing the offending object carefully and freeing your tiny friend. “A fucking glass, how’d you manage that?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He huffed, hopping onto your hand which you lent to him. “And stop smiling!”

“I can’t help it!” You laughed again at his frustrated pout, “Awh, come on, Link.”

He turned away, his back to you as you continued with your giggles until they finally subsided your sigh light before you called his attention. Four only spared you a glance but it was still enough, your soft kiss enticing a surprised gasp from his small form before he shrunk again, this time to hide his flustered blush.

“There- you gonna stop throwing a strop?”

“I’m not throwing a strop.”

“Sure, that’s why you’re pouting.” He hardened his stare, “Oh stop it, it was funny.”

Four huffed, crossing his arms but stayed silent.

“...You wanna know what else was funny?”

At your second devious grin, the man raised an interested brow.

“Wars screaming.”

You both paused before bursting into little evil giggles.

Ah, blackmail, what an amazing thing indeed.

#cloud answers #linked universe #linked universe x reader #lu #linked universe imagine #player au #a player's aid #lu four #lu four x reader #Sorry this was short #Anon asks

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digitulworld · 11 days

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DHMIS teachers answers if you asked them the interview questions

Where do you live?

Sketchbook: In the dark, sometimes.

Tony: Midwest.

Shrignold: Far away from you.

Colin: Indoors, outdoors, sideways, vertical, and horizontal.

Spinach Can: Ping-pong galleria with my friend Schmuck.

Steak Guy: In your house!

Lamp: A magic barn.

What do you like to eat?

Sketchbook: I’m on a liquid diet.

Tony: It’s in the attic somewhere.

Shrignold: Something very warm.

Colin: Extra large cereal.

Spinach Can: Cardboard

Steak Guy: I can’t believe you would ask me that.

Lamp: Pink bones, red fibers, and a spinning wheel.

What is your favorite color?

Sketchbook: Green. Is this a trick question? It’s green.

Tony: Tan.

Shrignold: Lots and lots of purple.

Colin: The one with five letters.

Spinach Can: What color is grass?

Steak Guy: Grey horses.

Lamp: You're being too silly right now, you have to stop.

Do you like cows or goats?

Sketchbook: Anything yellow.

Tony: It doesn't matter to me. Nothing matters to me.

Shrignold: A baby sheep, is that like a goat?

Colin: Lizards.

Spinach Can: I made a cow mad once, and then got Cow Mad Syndrome.

Steak Guy: Big ones. Just the big ones.

Lamp: It jumps over the moon!

Do you have brown hair?

Sketchbook: Only on Tuesdays.

Tony: Are you stupid?

Shrignold: Lime green, like my mothers.

Colin: I asked you first!

Spinach Can: You should stop asking me that, I'll give it back later.

Steak Guy: It just gets stuck like this sometimes.

Lamp: Yesterday I saw a dog, but it was an evil dog. Don't ask me how I know.

What is your blood type?

Sketchbook: I had to glue some on myself so they'd stop bothering me.

Tony: Just a big clump.

Shrignold: I don't know, they all look the same.

Colin: I can't remember what it looks like! It’s very shy.

Spinach Can: What the *beep* is blood?

Steak Guy: Blood? Is that what they call it nowadays?

Lamp: Theres worms in me.

What are you allergic to?

Sketchbook: Having a nose.

Tony: It changes every day, and has been for the past 977 days.

Shrignold: Absolutely positively everything.

Colin: Fish paste.

Spinach Can: Eggshells, all of them. They pushed me down the stairs once.

Steak Guy: I don't need one!

Lamp: The Boogeyman. We’re on bad terms.

Whats your favorite idea?

Sketchbook: Anything but this question.

Tony: The giant bird that appears in my dreams sometimes.

Shrignold: My favorite pair of shoes.

Colin: My idea website. It generates ideas, like fun ways to hold a spoon.

Spinach Can: Hammers! Lots of hammers! And a nickel!

Steak Guy: Throwing my keys into a hole.

Lamp: TV shows about Alaska.

What do you find exciting?

Sketchbook: Big balloons, the alphabet, kites, gas planets, carpentry, a sock. The rest is personal.

Tony: Basements with creaky stairs.

Shrignold: Moths in small amounts.

Colin: Every 14th day of the month.

Spinach Can: A really really really small traffic cone, that tells you when you're going to die.

Steak Guy: Mold.

Lamp: Four trampolines.

What happened after the olden days?

Sketchbook: TVs started using colors, and now people are ungrateful.

Tony: I’m not playing your little game.

Shrignold: Everyone got sad, so I had to help them.

Colin: There were three wars, four explosions, and two train crashes, all in 1958.

Spinach Can: The world got mucky and ate dirt and beans.

Steak Guy: A rude mouse flipped the bird at me.

Lamp: They had bigger and bigger dreams, and then everyone got so big, they had to stop eating foods that made them dream big. The moral of this story is that you should wash your hands twice a day.

What are you scared of?

Sketchbook: Medium-sized rodents.

Tony: 7:00pm.

Shrignold: Whatever you're scared of.

Colin: A pound of sand.

Spinach Can: Mud crunching.

Steak Guy: Holes in pudding.

Lamp: The big night sky we’ll all get lost in one day.

What are your hobbies?

Sketchbook: Throwing vegetables at paintings, you should try it one day.

Tony: Watching people blink.

Shrignold: I sew clothes for my friends, but their first question is always, “How do you know my exact measurements? I never told you them.” You just can’t please everyone.

Colin: Data analyzation, accounting, coding, excessive security measurements.

Spinach Can: It’s beach ball related, if you know what I mean.

Steak Guy: Meat hobbies.

Lamp: Finding used cigarettes on the ground and taping them together to make a big cigarette, I call it The Ultimate.

What is your favorite song?

Sketchbook: Banging plastic together, if thats a song.

Tony: The Screaming Album, 1938.

Shrignold: I made all of them up.

Colin: Trapezoid Angles by Super Henry 3

Spinach Can: Four of them and they’re bad.

Steak Guy: Just noises?

Lamp: Mr. Bungle

Where do you go on holiday?

Sketchbook: My imaginary imagination place.

Tony: I just walk around.

Colin: If I leave my house, I die instantly.

Shrignold: Every day is a holiday if you know what you're doing.

Spinach Can: Mister Loopy’s Pizza Restaurant that I keep getting kicked out of.

Steak Guy: Where all the pigs are.

Lamp: Nightmare Land.

Who do you love?

Sketchbook: The letter B

Tony: Boys? Girls?

Shrignold: Please don't.

Colin: My toothpaste bottle cap.

Spinach Can: Cheese thrown against the window.

Steak Guy: Finger soup! Teeth! Orphans!

Lamp: The giraffe I met once, that I went on adventures with.

What is love?

Sketchbook: Anything that smiles.

Tony: Something not very important.

Shrignold: Do you want me to tell you? I’m a little busy.

Colin: One of the twelve main Brain Viruses.

Spinach Can: Endless sink drains.

Steak Guy: A string of hair. A lot of hair.

Lamp: It grows two legs, and then one day it’ll kill you.

What do you dream of?

Sketchbook: Pools and pools of blood tubes.

Tony: It all became a blur to me, I had to stop before I went mad.

Shrignold: So many little squirrels eating me.

Colin: Untied shoelaces.

Spinach Can: Peanuts, but they keep spelling their name wrong.

Steak Guy: Markets that only sell one type of vinegar oil.

Lamp: I can’t dream, I have a condition.

#dhmis #dont hug me im scared #don't hug me i'm scared #sketchbook #tony the talking clock #shrignold #colin the computer #spinach can #steak guy #lamp

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canmom · 4 months

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Wait is ratfic not fiction about rats???

I can talk about fiction about rats too! Let's talk about some British childrens' book series! And one American comic book.

The four relevant works for our discussion would be the Redwall series by Brian Jacques, the Welkin Weasels series by Garry Kilworth, the Deptford Mice series by Robin Jarvis, and the Mouse Guard series by David Petersen. All these works portray a world inhabited by semi-anthropomorphic animals that are at the scale of real world animals. And indeed all of them include rats, albeit mostly as antagonists.

Redwall is perhaps the one that has most penetrated internet pop culture, thanks to articles like this one on SomethingAwful which mocked some of the series's recurring elements while painting Brian Jacques as a bit of a nazi. I ate those books up as a kid, but in retrospect I truthfully can remember only snatches: the shrews' battle cry of 'logalogalogalog!', the pages of elaborate descriptions of feasts.

Redwall is a big sufferer from the 'evil races' problem. A certain arbitrary set of species (e.g. rats, stoats, weasels, ferrets) are ontologically evil, and various other species are standins for various stereotypical British social classes (e.g. iirc moles are always working class). As unfortunately tends to be the case, it even makes the strange decision to double down on this - I believe in one of the books, a member of one of the evil species is raised in the Abbey, but inevitably his evil nature comes out when the good rodents and mustelids are once again threatened by an army of bad rodents and mustelids.

Nevertheless, as repetitive and ethically dubious as these books are, they do conjour a very specific flavour which makes them memorable. The author's enthusiasm for food as child of the Blitz shines through, as does his evident love for the idyllic Redwall Abbey. There's a lot of really charming elements like the 'logalogalog' thing. Having these read out to me as kid was great, it had a bit of a panto feel, where I could join in with the expected beats.

The first Redwall book implies that humans exist in this world, but this is subsequently quietly retconned to an only-animals fantasy world.

The Welkin Weasels series is a lot shorter at six books, and you may well bounce off the author's enthusiasm to insert puns and references all over the place (I recall one book managing to set up "badgers? we don't need no stinkin' badgers"), but from what I remember of them they benefit from having more explicit horror elements which makes the stakes much more engaging. I recall the weasels trying to weasel their way into a crypt full of horrible pitfalls and finding it very tense as a kid.

There is once again a sympathetic-unsympathetic species divide - weasels are our plucky heroes, while stoats tend to be aristocratic and cruel. However, it does play out a little differently: the first three books are in a medieval fantasy setting with explicit magic, but over the course of the novels, the mustelids manage to rediscover humans, leading to a timeskip forward into a more steampunk setting where the animals and humans have built a joint society together.

Honestly, I would quite like to reread these books! They may well not hold up today, but it would be fun to revisit them.

The Deptford Mice series by Robin Jarvis - author of Deathscent, a highly memorable novel in which Elizabethans have been transported by aliens into a space archipelago where all the animals are robots which run on the four humours - is a pretty fun one, although my memory is very foggy. It's set in our world, in London, and as I recall the first book involves an evil cat wizard attempting to resurrect the Bubonic Plague from the plague pits. I recall a scene in which rats dig up the plague pit and have their paws melted by the lime coating it. Beyond that I can recall very little but I definitely think it merits inclusion in this list of rat fic.

Once again we have the good rodent/evil rodent problem. Mice and rats are almost identical creatures, so it's weird that the sympathetic/unsympathetic divide falls so consistently.

Mouse Guard is an American comic series about mice with little cloaks and swords. Making it be a comic is kind of a great idea because you get to see how cute they are at every turn. The mouse guard are responsible for defending the other mice from threats such as snakes. They have a pretty high mortality rate.

I'm... actually not super familiar with the comics, but they inspired a roleplaying game by the creators of Burning Wheel, using similar mechanics - e.g. its beliefs system, the simultaneous-resolution combat system. That got a lot of buzz around the late 2010s. So if you want a game to play as an rat at the tabletop, it's probably a good one to check out!

We might also at this juncture mention the wildly popular novel Watership Down, which imagines an elaborate rabbit society complete with a substantially fleshed out rabbit religion. I wrote about the animated film for Animation Night a couple years back - it's quite a memorable one.

Sadly, this is mostly mousefic (with a bit of weaselfic). I don't know of any true ratfic - centred on rats as protagonists. Perhaps this is an opportunity for someone out there to write ratfic ratfic to correct this imbalance.

edit: omfg i forgot the rats of NIMH. thanks to both the people who reminded me of that one

#fiction #novels

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liminsendhelp · 2 months

Text

Don't pet the flea cat

Price×f!reader

Tags: slight description of reader (chubby, muscular, strong, denying gender as a concept), possibly slightly sociopathic/autistic reader, profanity, denial of authority, evil scientist on the way to becoming.

I don't speak English. I didn't proofread the text.

enjoy.

Part 1. Part 2.

You're quiet in bed. For real. Without the pretenses and masks of a woman subordinate to someone else's dominance, when you're not alive enough, not human enough. When the beast of animal desire inside makes you dig your nails into your palms. When you want to put out cigarettes on yourself to block out the unbridled power of the urge for sex.

It's always been a problem. People have crumpled their gut. They put on layer upon layer of approval and expectation.

Your essence was causing the thin material of socialization to fray at the seams.

To top it all off, you're easily obsessed.

Your blood boils at the sight of beauty.

He's ugly. Like everyone else.

Ordinary.

Yet you can't name a single time you've looked at Price without wanting to rip his face off.

He says, in that quiet and understanding tone of his, in those chuckles and snickers of his.

You're not even a nurse. You're a researcher in a tiny development lab. You have no education whatsoever (except for art), taken in by acquaintances to help you out, before asking you to finish some psychiatry courses just to make sure. Science dragged you down so that you were up to your ears in philosophy, psychology, old treatises and other crap.

So there you are, cleaning animal cages, helping out with easy experiments, coaching timid grad students on how to interact with small rodents. And then, at one point, you're set up as a lab technician. And you're not dumb, you have ideas, you have a desire to understand the workings of the brain. straighten it out, twist it back up and straighten it out again.

Of all the specialists, you're a little more interested in behaviorism, a little more obsessed with crime.

Brain cutting brain.

You're quiet, calm, frighteningly cold. Your gaze is dark, like a constantly dissecting blade. So what? You're better than those idiots, even without a proper education. You're smarter, more thoughtful, thorough, workaholic. Those above you - senior researchers, PhDs and postdocs - know you're good. Good enough to keep you around.

The institute is a restricted facility. It's not weird that they moved the labs to an outhouse inside the fucking military base, is it? No. After the incident, half the staff went on paid leave. Understaffed, overworked, stressed out. Neuropsych, cognitive-behavioral, experimental, psychiatric, chemical-pharmacology and blah, blah, blah labs downsized in limited space.

Each department used to have animals to do research on. Now your work is all theory and documentation. This problem was soon promised to be solved, but no one really hoped for a super secret lab with experimental subjects for every taste. From mouse to human.

They have unwanted prisoners, don't they?

Anyway.

You were transported to the base after a small-- Terrorist attack at your institute. Again, pathos on an all-cosmic scale, nothing of the sort happened, but "national brains and serious research" must be saved, come on.

No one was hurt.

Not even injured.

And now it's not like you're severely stung for budget and space, despite the relatively small footprint of the allotted space.

The most significant downside here at the base is that even while trying to stay out of the allotted space as much as possible, you see extra people. Military.

They're all killers. They're killers, and you have a taste problem. They want to clean up the developments for the good of the military, and you imagine the horror they're going to be in when, under interrogation, people break their teeth on each other while overdosing.

They walk under your windows, stand against the opposite wall when you go out for a late night smoke, show up in the lab to stick their noses where they'll get their balls bitten off and shoved up their asses.

The military are no more welcome than they should be, after all, the scientists here have only themselves to thank on the heads of the fucked up officials who decided it would be a good idea to sign you all up for this cohabitation.

And doors slam, eyes scrutinizing your white coats and circles under your eyes, hands reaching for developments, noses poking into all your dirty laundry.

But they shouldn't be anywhere near it.

You're in your second month of work, trying to function as you're used to - mechanically. But today your senior's not here, Dr. Moon's away at a useless security conference. Usually she'd be kind enough to bring you a bunch of food from the cafeteria.

You're not a little girl. You can't live on a stash of sweets and coffee without worsening your already obvious gastritis. And you need a normal amount of food to keep your body functioning. You've always been meaty, no match for thin, slim, graceful girls, some of whom had the superpower to survive on a lettuce leaf (not taking into account goddess nymphs with healthy appetites and excellent metabolisms, such creatures were a myth in the flesh).

But, you don't want to go out to this mess of heads and dirty mouths.

You clench your hands into fists, pressing your nails into your skin. You're going to have to do this anyway. You're perfectly capable of not eating for a week, thanks to your unhealthy relationship with food, but you're not going to torture yourself. After all, you've been on the wrong side of self-loathing for a long time now.

Now what went inward is actively being broadcast to those around you.

So you put on your coldest mask, clench your teeth tightly, and pretend not to notice the scrutinizing stares from all sides. You're stared at by your coworkers because you never go out into the light. The soldiers stare at you because you look like a pathetic mound of snow among their dusty greenery.

You think you're perfectly capable of eating alone because your coworkers are permanent idiots in their surprised stares and whispers.

But when you sit down at the table, with seemingly as disinterested in each other as possible eaters, both soldiers and medics begin to stare even more intensely. Like little kids. Are those some marshal generals of all the earth at your table?

How's your diplomacy going over there?

"Can I sit here?" You ask evenly, almost forgetting to give your voice a questioning tone.

"Of course, miss." The voice is deep and soft.

You definitely sat down with the wrong people.

"Thank you, I won't take long."

You don't look at them. No need to. Dr. Moon is coming tomorrow and you won't have to crawl out of the sink anymore.

You eat fast, two minutes for the whole meal. The military must realize that's possible, right? They used to mock you for that ability. Now, you unconsciously take it personally when they laugh at you from afar. That's why you hate the school system. Cafeteria, really? Just give us each a bag of dog food.

You rise from your seat to escape into your reports, hypotheses, and research.

"What's your name?"

No. You didn't hear that question.

It's probably rude, since they're high-ranking.

You'll be out of here faster than they can take offense.

"Miss?"

Will you fucking calm down, you idiot?

"Run me through the database." You almost growl, speaking in lower case.

Stupid. Startled, you look up.

The blue-eyed freak, so appealing, puffing with calm control, seems amused rather than pissed off.

Thank the Goddess, thank any Force that covered your ass and you were taken as entertainment.

Blue eyes make the dry semblance of shame in your chest scrape sandpaper across your ribs.

"I can already tell by you that you're a bitch." It sounds from behind you. Expectedly. You can clearly see from the face of the man in front of you that he's unimpressed by this outburst. The burning blue melts you from the inside out with two heartbeats, and you dare to interrupt the deafening silence of judgment around you.

You drop the apology and carry your body back to your lair. You only exhale as you lock the door from the inside with the key. As if that will save you. People won't forget.

Dr. Moon reprimands you from the doorstep the next day. You fell asleep at your desk again. She shoves you onto the small couch in her office. While she shreds the mail, you sleep peacefully for a couple hours.

"Honey? Come here."

Oh, that tone. Are you in trouble because of last night?

They couldn't be more touchy, which one of those mutts snitched on you--

"Your initiative has been approved."

You find yourself on your feet, your hair tousled, your clothes askew, but all your attention is on the screen.

Confirmation letter… authorization to conduct data analysis… for detection… with command support… attachment to teams… supervised access to files….

You blink, then reread it again.

"What's that?"

"You didn't think they'd let you play spy, did you?"

There was hope. But no, it's the other thing that's weird.

"I only asked for an archive. Ideally to observe from afar and interview recruits."

"You and I both know, darling, you're just waiting for a chance to sit your ass down and duck your head into papers. You wanted the internship, go get it." Dr. Moon sits back as contented as can be. She was the force that kept pushing you, wanting to create a diamond.

You wished you were more like hydrogen. To be present everywhere so that you couldn't be seen anywhere.

"And what am I supposed to do?"

"One team is available. Someone from the local legends. But they've agreed to work with you."

No! You let out a low scream. Then you squeeze out a loud sob.

"Can I say no?"

"I'll put laxatives in your next meal."

You sigh.

"Acting like a child, Doc." The good-natured, acerbic face in front of you contorted for a second. She hated being called that.

"That's not for you to tell me, sweetheart. Get your work plan in here, we'll review it. You go to work tomorrow."

#limin #john price #price x reader #price #tf 141 #gnc women

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chowadoe · 9 days

Note

Heyyy I just have a question about your au (which I'm obssessed with btw)

How did Robotnik stumble across Sonic? How did they find eachother and why did Sonic choose to work with him? (I noticed you used quotation marks on the word "raised", this is why I'm asking)

(Also I'm sorry if you have explained this before I'm just dumb and forget things alot😭)

hehe yes!! i touched vaguely on it but in the AU, but i have more thoughts

the AU is set in a Mobius/Earth that's heavily-industrialized, nearly robot-run and almost-dystopian backdrop.. rather than it being a case of man vs robot, its more like Earth vs the over-industrialization done by humans.

I'd like to think Robotnik found Sonic when he was pretty young, before his teens. since it's a role reversal where Sonic takes on more of Shadow's "ism"'s, I'd think there's lapses in sonic's past/memories that's simply a result of his upbringing in an machine-operated unnatural world. possibly found him orphaned and beat up from an unfortunate run-in (with either a robot or something else) in some junkyard. also toying with the idea that Robotnik suspects a rodent problem in his lab because whyyy is stuff going missing :/ and it seems to be connected to this little hedgehog over here.

Robotnik, having a lapse in his usual evil scientist judgement, decides to take him under his wing under the self-disgusing excuse of 'yes! haha! i'll teach him for taking my stuff! he can become my minion! my protege!' (when really Robotnik probably has a soft spot for kids). Robotnik is also quite interested in Sonic's extraordinary speed, thinking he'll prove quite useful for his future endeavors if he can train him. of course, Sonic is like a stray dog and kind of feral, because who can he trust in this world other than himself, so used to fighting for scraps where he can. the socialization process is long and arduous process LMFAO (as for the clothes, Sonic isn't interested in things that are readily given to him, he likes pissing Robotnik more, so lets say its something he "borrowed" from the scientist's closet and modded to his own liking. hes silly like that)

Robotnik at first tries to placate him with clothes and "toys" and "treats" (like fidgets and building sets and small robots. Sonic always ends up breaking them.) with little success. Sonic probably escapes several times, only coming back for something he needs- and its a routine that they both get used to because Robotnik can say "this is your last chance!" all he wants but when is it ever. and it's a habit that Sonic never really outgrows either.

Robotnik comes to the conclusion that Sonic is better left treated like outdoor cat that lets himself in when he's bored or whatever else (Sonic's quite good at sneaking into places. hedgehogs and burrowing and all that). eventually the machines and robots Robotnik builds do pique Sonic's interest-- but mostly in breaking them. he's more invested in the ways he can take things apart than anything else and that's a reoccurring headache Robotnik imposes on himself by dishing out new tech for Sonic to try out and they come out worse for wear at the end of the day.

They both mind their business at the end of the day, their relationship is rather estranged with little-to-no familial regard, Sonic's more of a thorn in his side than anything, but Robotnik still does have a soft spot for the rodent. Sonic is like the adoptive son that just never left his rebellious phase, wanting nothing to do with his guardian but bothering them when its convenient. he's Robotnik's contractual accomplice but only when it's on Sonic's terms, only agreeing to certain requests if it's interesting enough, like trying out Robotnik's new "toys"/weapons/robots or if it's tech that happens to boost his existing abilities (that he can try out on Robotnik's robots or G.U.N. soldiers or whatever gets in his way first).

#role swap au #sonic the hedgehog #sonic au

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cottoncandylesbo · 1 month

Text

yeah, you could say i'm kind of a creature. kind of a fucked up evil little frickin criminal, but also a cutie bean. a small little cute rodent who couldnt hurt anyone. but im also like, some sort of unknowable eldritch monster and uhhh im the color of the void. yeah with glowing eyes. did i mention im kind of different

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rosieofcorona · 3 months

Text

Ortolan

Angels, darlings, besties, I present to you the most evil thing I’ve ever written. The first chapter of a little gothic story about our favorite vampire ascendant and his beloved consort. Named, of course, after the bird that is born and bred to be eaten whole. Horror ensues. Also on AO3, if you prefer. Thank you for reading!

All her life Tav had lived in the palm of the palace’s shadow, its black spire-fingers stretching and reaching into the corners of the city when the sun dipped low. She had never known then how it held her, that distant, haunted thing, had never thought its eyes might watch her when she wasn’t watching back.

She watches everything now.

From its high balconies, she can see all of the Gate spread out below. The streets, the shops, the city center, the painted roofs and cobbled roadways— all in miniature from here, like little playthings from her childhood. The people move like dolls beneath her, in and out of the castle’s black hand, and on the days time seems to dilate in a widening, infinite loop, she thinks she sees herself among them, walking freely in the sun.

She could make the lower city in an hour, if she hurried.

It’s not so far, she thinks. Just far removed.

Half a league and a lifetime away.

*****

Where Tav feels out of place in their new home, Astarion thrives.

He stalks the halls with newfound confidence, cold command in every step, making note of things he’ll have their servants change. He seems to know the place inherently, every floorboard, every stone, while Tav gets lost with alarming frequency by comparison.

She only explores at Astarion’s urging– Until it feels like home, my darling – but the halls are narrow and labyrinthine, stairways twisting into darkness, secret passages that lead nowhere or loop back to where she started. When learning the layout seems impossible and makes her feel like a rat in a maze, Astarion reminds her that all the prior spawn, including himself, had done it.

Even an animal, she wants to say, can learn its way around a trap.

It’s not all awful, she supposes. She loves the libraries and the moon garden, with its fragrant phlox and foxgloves, and the oratory, too, when she gets brave enough to enter (Astarion promises more than once that she will not burst into flames).

In fact most of the rooms, when she discovers them, are beautiful, pristine save for a gauzy shroud of dust left over centuries. Others have fallen to neglect, or to irrelevance. There is no need now for the garderobe, the vanity, the ice house, for the dovecote where no living birds remain.

She finds the kitchen and the larder and the buttery standing useless– though the rats, if they could speak, might disagree. They’re busy gnawing at the stock of moldy scraps still in the pantry, hardly minding her approach until she’s on them.

Her eyes track them as they scatter, like a hunter, like a predator. An instinct she’s developed since her death.

She is stronger, swifter, sharper– as Astarion had promised– but there is violence softly shimmering beneath. She wants to tear at something, always, wants to follow something home. She wants to bite down hard enough to make her jaw ache.

She never tells him out of fear he will encourage it.

Tav dreads the day she knows is coming, the day he’ll send her out to hunt. He loves her bloodlust when he feeds her– Such an eager little thing– and keeps her hungry to incentivize her finding her own victims.

But a rat is not a victim, says her instinct.

She follows one into the back half of the kitchen past the storerooms, to a passage she has never seen before. The rodent slips beneath a door that hangs half-rotten on its hinges, as if no one has been through it in a century. It is unlikely, it occurs to her, that even Astarion knows it exists.

The door creaks open with her touch, the air beyond it thick with odor– wine and earth and slow decay, with something coppery beneath. She pricks her ears toward the sound of little claws upon the stonework, of a heartbeat in the dark that’s not her own.

The rat has vanished out of sight, but it’s no matter. She can trace it by its movements, by its scent. As she creeps farther down the passage, the metallic scent gets clearer– copper, yes, but also parchment, like the binding of a book. Hints of mushroom, hints of honey, hints of soil, mold, and… rat blood .

The realization feeds her drive and her disgust in equal measure. Turn around , she tells herself. Let the poor thing go .

But she moves on as if compelled, down one long staircase then another, winding deep beneath the palace where it’s damp and dark and cold. At the bottom she stops to listen, stops to take a deep breath in.

There is a foulness deep below– the unmistakable scent of death– and still, the rat blood, like a top note, rises over the decay.

She hurries blindly into the blackness, her feet following her nose until she loses track of how many times she pivots and pivots back. They move underground until the air gets moist, the stone floor slick beneath them. Her own feet stick each time she pulls them up, as if walking through mud, or through gore.

We must be deep beneath the earth, she thinks, for it to be so wet.

The creature ahead of her stops suddenly, its breath heavy and exhausted, running one way then another, side to side. Dead-ended by a wall, no doubt. It finds no way ahead.

She can make out the trembling shape of it, her eyes black with lack of light, and then another shape between them, and another, and another. They look like piles of festered meat left in a storeroom, long-forgotten, and for a moment she believes that’s where she is.

Tav takes a step around a pile and something crunches beneath her heel. A bone, or shard of bone, she notes, the flesh long-rotted off the marrow. Another step, another crunch, a skittering sound like a stone being kicked.

She kneels to touch the little object, to bring it closer to her face. Another shard, it seems, an animal tooth, the one end needle-sharp and hollow…

The realization swells and hits her like a wave.

Her single-mindedness is banished as she looks around the room, no, not a room, a crypt– the crypt!– where Cazador locked all of his spawn before the ritual. Whatever is left of them coats the floor, their blood, their hair, their shattered teeth, and Tav can smell it now, their stench, beneath the rat that she’s all but forgotten.

Her own voice screams above the instinct. I should not be here.

She turns and runs in the direction she came from, at least, the direction she thinks she came from– and should she turn left here, or right? There should be stairs, where are the stairs, where are the stairs?

She runs until she can run no more, until she corners herself in a corridor, caught between the way she came and a bolted door. She tries to stop herself from shaking, not from cold or damp, but terror, the idea she might be left in here until she is nothing but rot.

But what she has learned from getting lost is that he will find her.

She’s never asked him how he does it. She isn’t sure she wants to know.

He always does, she reassures herself. I only need to wait.

She doesn’t know how long she huddles there in the bleak and soundless gloom, doesn’t know how long she listens for his footfall.

At last a voice slips through the darkness. A pale hand reaches for her own.

“You’ve wandered far this time, my darling. I could hardly trace your scent.”

A horror scurries down her spine like little claws upon the floor. That’s how I tracked it when it ran, she shivers. Parchment, mushroom, honey.

It’s how he finds her now, no matter where she runs. ***** It is hours later when she asks him, with his blood still on her lips, how it feels to wring the life out of a creature, drop by drop.

“You ought to know,” he answers absently, completely unperturbed. He is preoccupied, deciding on the perfect place to bite her, fingers tracing every vein beneath her skin. “You’ve killed a thousand times, my love, have you forgotten?”

“That was different. Not for blood.”

“No, gods forbid,” Astarion laughs. “Most times for gold.”

She feels annoyance, like a spider, creeping up the back of her neck. “Do I hear judgment?” “Certainly not.” He makes a show of looking scandalized, a hand fluttering over his heart. “I’d never begrudge you a little violence, you know that.”

As he moves further down the bed his touch trails with him, hands and mouth mapping a blue line down her body, along her breast and hip and thigh. He settles there and moves her legs apart so he can kneel between them, makes her shiver in familiar delight.

She wants to lose them in this moment, those poor creatures in the crypt, wants to put them from her mind for now and always. But with every touch she feels Astarion’s hunger, still unsated; with every kiss, she feels the sharpness of his teeth.

Like animal teeth, she thinks. Like theirs, like mine.

“But do they suffer? When you drain them?”

Astarion sighs like rustled velvet, looking up at her from his knees.

“Such a soft heart, still,” he murmurs. “Did you suffer, my beloved?”

How easily, how often she forgets that he has killed her.

If there was suffering she can’t recall it now, no matter how she tries. The memory’s far off in the distance, formless, fogged by ambiguity. If she moved toward it, maybe she could make out certain details…

But his tongue is on her now, and she welcomes the distraction. It is unpleasant, after all, to relive dying. He drags it slowly over the soft flesh of her thigh above the artery until she hums a little sound of satisfaction.

“Would you like to?” He asks, in that same, soft voice. His eyeteeth shine like pearls in the rising moonlight.

“Please,” she whispers. It is all the urging he needs.

She cries out at the breaking of her skin, the rush of blood into his mouth. The feeding has always been pleasurable, even when she was alive, but it is heightened now that they are bound together. She can feel him from the inside now, coursing through his body, she can fill him and fulfill him with blood alone. “More,” she pleads, when he pulls away to look at her. Already he is bright with her blood. “Astarion, more.”

If this is suffering, she wants it– every evening, every hour– until whatever light still shines in her eyes goes out. ***** In her dreams she finds her way back to the black mouth of the crypt, its iron gates swung wide on their hinges as if to swallow her entirely. She’s running frightened, like a rabbit , like a rat from something watching, someone whispering her name into the dark.

#astarion x tav #astarion ancunin #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x female tav #ascended astarion x tav #ascended astarion #spawn tav #bg3 #my fic #my writing #astarion fanfic #vampire ascendant #tw: blood #tw: gore #I had to give them the gothic treatment so bad I hope you understand #astarion smut #the pale elf

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pccyouthleader · 8 months

Text

Hedgehog Hodgepodge: A Story of Espionage, Confusion, and an Evil Plan Gone Haywire

Chapter 18: Stealthy, Wealthy, and Wise

“Here, put these on,” Shadow said, handing Aurora a pair of safety glasses and headphones. “These are for eye and ear protection while we’re here at the range.”

After falling asleep in the crow’s nest at the pier, they were awakened by the sound of someone blasting a marine signal horn. Looking over the edge of the railing, they had seen a snarky-looking capybara sneering at them from the helm. Shadow’s hands had tightened into fists as he imagined himself pummeling the rodent to bits, but one look at Aurora reminded him of his charge.

The capybara would live to creep another day.

Now they were at Scope’s Gun Range and Shadow was placing his own pair of sporty-looking glasses on his face. The bright yellow of the lenses made his eyes appear blaze orange. He was wearing ear plugs to dampen the noise.

After checking in with the Range Safety Officer (RSO) and listening to a lengthy list of “dos and don’ts,” he assigned them a bench inside the range. Shadow placed a soft case on top of it with a *clunk*, then proceeded to repeat the rules of the range. When he launched into explaining the rules a third time by reading from a pamphlet, Aurora had to stop him.

“Shadow, can’t you just tell me as we go? I know the rules are important, but I kind of tuned you out five minutes ago.” She smiled a sheepish grin.

Shadow gave her a frustrated look, but set aside the pamphlet and began unzipping his bag. Aurora’s small handgun had been stored there for the journey, and he took it out now, along with the magazine. He checked the chamber and loaded the magazine, placing it on the bench facing the target.

Aurora watched his every move. “Do you really know all that much about shooting?” she teased, knowing the answer already.

Shadow smirked at her. “Let the Master show you how it’s done.” Picking up the gun, Shadow got off three bullseye shots and turned his head with a smug grin to Aurora. She rolled her eyes, but a playful smile shone on her face. She loved watching Shadow do something he enjoyed. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t have a little fun with him.

“I’m going to empty the magazine, then reload for you to shoot.”

As he aimed the gun toward the target, Aurora lifted her hand and shot a light projectile in the same direction. Caught off guard, Shadow fired the gun and the bullet imbedded into the ceiling.

“What- Aurora! Why did you do that?!” he stammered, looking around for a threat that might have caused her to react that way. Aurora giggled as she pushed the button to move the target forward.

“Hmm, let’s see,” she began. “One, two, three bullet holes, but four shots fired. Well, Shadow, I guess you’re not the Master after all.”

He stood dumbfounded. If anyone else had done this, he would have obliterated them by now. But it was different with Aurora.

Shadow slowly unchambered the handgun, took out the magazine, and placed everything on the bench. He turned to give Aurora a very stern look.

Aurora thought maybe she had made a huge mistake with what she had done. The smile melted from her face and she was about to start apologizing when Shadow started laughing softly. “You’re lucky we’re the only two in here, or the RSO would have probably kicked you out!” Aurora looked at him wide-eyed. He laughed harder at the mental image.

“Now,” he said, serious again. “If I teach you how to use the gun, will you behave? It’s important that you learn to use it safely. No more pranks.”

Aurora nodded, and Shadow pulled her into position in front of the bench. After reloading the magazine and chamber, he checked the gun again and placed it in her hands.

“Always point the barrel towards the target, no matter what you’re doing,” he said, moving behind her and adjusting her posture. “Only when you’re ready to shoot should you put your finger on the trigger.” He made a few more adjustments and explained how to aim.

“You ready?” Shadow asked, stepping back.

Aurora nodded. “I think so.” Her heart was beating 90 to nothing.

“Then whenever you’re ready…”

Aurora took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger. A loud blast erupted from the barrel of the gun, and the bullet whizzed through the target, coming within inches of Shadow’s bullseye shots. She turned her head to see an amazed looked on Shadow’s face.

“Keep going,” he encouraged her.

Aurora shot six more times, emptying the magazine, and astonishing her boyfriend. He pushed the button to bring the target forward, and gaped at the paper riddled with bullet holes all around the bullseye.

Shadow looked at Aurora. “I’ve never seen anyone shoot this well the first time they’ve held a gun!” Aurora blushed. “You have a natural talent for this,” he continued.

Over the next hour, Shadow showed her how to load the gun and magazine, and she continued to practice her aim. Aurora felt confident knowing that if she ever needed it, she could use the small handgun with ease and safety.

—

In the lobby of the gun range stood a familiar figure, out of sight and out of mind. He watched through the window in heated displeasure as the couple interacted, so natural and easy in each other’s company. The observer was incognito, having received word from an informant about Aurora’s whereabouts at the pier. From there he had tailed them to the gun range, where he remained scrutinizing their every move.

When Shadow touched Aurora, anger flared within him and he had to look away. But he had learned something from this surveillance: Aurora was naturally good with a gun. He made a mental note to be cautious in the future. The element of surprise would be ideal.

As the surreptitious spectator turned to leave the stifling gun range lobby, he headed toward the door and nearly burst through. The cold air filled his lungs and he could breathe again. Reaching in his coat pocket, he pulled out a small device and tapped it. At once, his communicator honed in on the small gadget and began to track it. After carefully surveying the area, the individual slid the device smoothly under the frame of Shadow’s motorcycle and walked away. He approached a different vehicle from the one he had driven before. Instead of his sleek black sports car, he climbed into a small SUV. It was only the mountains from here, and he needed better traction. A rather toothy grin replaced his angered countenance as he envisioned what was to come.

—

After grabbing a bite to eat at a nearby deli, Shadow and Aurora set out once again for a destination unknown to her. There was a chill in the air as he turned the motorcycle northward. Up they climbed, higher and higher into the mountains.

At last, Shadow and Aurora arrived at a small cabin tucked into a type of alcove in the mountainside that shrouded it from sight. Aurora shivered violently as they dismounted from the motorcycle and made their way toward the door. Her thin jacket wasn’t nearly enough for this cold weather.

“Wha… what is this place?” she asked through chattering teeth.

“It’s an old G.U.N. hideaway,” said Shadow as he pulled an ancient-looking key from his coat pocket. “You should be safe here.”

The two of them walked into a sparsely furnished room with a fireplace, two chairs, and a coffee table to the right. To the left was a small kitchenette, as well as a hallway that led to what Aurora assumed were the bedrooms.

Shadow quickly closed the door, placed their bags on the coffee table, and moved to start a fire in the fireplace. Aurora picked up a dusty blanket and wrapped it around herself. Soon there was a welcoming fire blazing in the hearth, and she moved to sit down in front of it. As the heat melted away the chill in her bones, she began to relax.

Shadow sat back and studied her, noting the sad look on her face.

“Light,” he said softly, “are you alright?”

She managed a weak smile, as a tear slipped down her cheek.

“I am. I just miss my mom and dad, and I wish I knew exactly what was going on,” she replied.

Shadow leaned forward and gently brushed her tear away with his thumb, letting his hand linger on her face.

“I’m sure things are fine back at home. Right now your mother is probably tearfully watching some sappy romantic comedy, and your father is sitting next to her, bored out of his mind.”

Aurora laughed, picturing the two in her head.

“And you’re here with me,” he continued in a deeper, quieter tone. His eyes were fixed on hers, and his hand felt like a flame to her face.

Aurora sniffed. “That’s another thing. I feel so bad that you’re going to all this trouble and expense for me. I know you’ve got more important things to-“

Shadow moved his hand to place his finger over her lips. His expression became more serious. “Don’t ever think that you’re not worth all of this and more. I’ve got money to burn from 25 years of missions and nothing to spend it on. But money means nothing to me. This mission is everything. I’ve taken it on as my personal responsibility to ensure your safety. Aurora…,” he paused, “…you are my mission.”

Fresh tears poured down her cheeks as he pulled her into his strong embrace. He held her tight as all the fear and confusion and questions of the past twenty-four hours poured out of her in distressed droplets.

When her crying subsided, he gently placed his hand under her chin and lifted her face to his.

“Aurora, there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you for days - weeks - now, and I never could find the right time.”

His deep crimson eyes held hers in an unrelenting gaze.

“Light… I love you.”

Aurora gasped in utter exhilaration. Pushing herself up, she stopped within inches of her lips touching his. “Shadow…” she breathed as their lips met. Shadow put one hand in her quills and the other on her lower back and pulled her to him tightly. As he brought her closer, he deepened the kiss, passion driving him like a bear to honey. He wanted her - needed her - this very moment. He began kissing her face, her jaw, and her neck, his breath coming in short, rough gusts.

Aurora cradled Shadow’s ear in her hand, caressing it with small kisses, then gently nibbling with her teeth. Shadow let out a low growl of satisfaction. His breathing felt like hot steam burning her skin.

Just as his mouth reached her collarbone, a loud, shrill alarm sounded, sending Aurora scrambling backward and Shadow jumping for his communicator. When he got the alarm stopped, he hung his head and swore under his breath.

“What was that?” Aurora asked, her eyes wide with shock.

“My communicator has been off, but has an emergency setting that allows urgent messages to come through.” Shadow took some deep breaths, trying to slow his racing heartbeat. “It’s probably your father making sure we aren’t touching.”

Aurora laughed nervously and Shadow pulled his communicator open to reveal a voice recording waiting. He tapped the triangle and was surprised to hear Tails’ voice fading in and out.

“Shadow! I hope you can hear me… something weird… if you’re there can you… Sonic…”

Then the voice recording ended.

“What do you think that was all about?” asked Aurora, anxiety creeping back into her chest at the sound of the cryptic message.

“I don’t know,” Shadow replied. “But Sonic knows how to access the emergency setting on my communicator, and I’m sure he or Amy would have called if something was wrong.”

Shadow sat in deep thought for several moments. Then, looking up at Aurora, he said, “I know you’re exhausted. Let me show you to your room.”

#Y’all this is such a long chapter!#Sorry it took so long!#shadow the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog #aurora the hedgehog #amy rose #shadora #sonamy #sonic fanfiction #hedgehog hodgepodge #aurora belongs to e-vay #shadowxaurora #shadowxaurora?

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