#rat-anon

[hellsitegenetics]

okay sorry if this is too much or too specific but. the entirety (or an excerpt, if it's too much) of devil's train by the lab rats. i have it all memorized by heart and i sing it to myself whenever i need to pass ~5 minutes (mainly when making instant ramen) and i want to know what my ramen mascot is.

String identified: GaaaactatatttcaccgttagtcagtatatacaattaacttagtAacgagttataaaaaaatgtacattgttaAgttgtatgtctaatgtttattaataggtttttattacAtttattttttacttccttttAtatctatagtagattatattAttttgtatgttttcaactGagtacaagaatAtataatattatatccTaatattatctattcaactaatatatacatgaaacatagtgtttattagtataattatgaattttatgtttatttatacattatacactactTttactacacagAtatatatttaattaaacattataaatagaAgagatatttcaatatttattgttacatgtgttagtaatgagacttttgtaagattatgtttgttacatgtgttagtaatgagacttttgtaagattatgtaattaatTatagtataTttttTgcttgtagtatcaagatatataatttattacatatatcacacTcattataccagttaagtgacgaagaacataggaatcaggtTatacatactgatattccttctttcttcgatagatattaacagtaaaggAttgttattatacttgttacatgtgttagtaatgagacttttgtaagattatgtttgttacatgtgttagtaatgagacttttgtaagattatgttatagtgtatagatatatgtaaatttatattaatatatactgtagaTattagtgcacataTgttaaagctttatagacacagtaGgggcaagtcttatgatttacatgaacatactacaatagaaaatttaagCatatatggActagctcttggtacaatttatgtggatTtatactaagaataaTataatattaatacgtaaaataatatgatcaggtAttataataatagtttacatgataaaaataatatatttgcaatcttgtgactatttgtttcaatcattgcacatctgtatataaatcacaatcattAaatgtaatttttaaaAatcAtcatatcatcttttatactgttgagttgttacatgtgttagtaatgagacttttgtaagattatgtttgttacatgtgttagtaatgagacttttgtaagattatgt

Closest match: Carpetania matritensis genome assembly, chromosome: 12 Common name: Earthworm

(image source)

[new-revenant]

Danny has a group of rats he rescued from a lab, they follow him everywhere even as Phantom, the group of five become Danny's emotional support Mischief and service animals, his folks even help make service vests for them when they're out and about. The rats have space themed names and alert for different things.

Astro alerts when Danny's about to have a panic attack

Pluto alerts when Danny's heart goes wonky besides ghost stuff

Cosmo alerts before Danny has a seizure so he can alert the others around him

Hailey alerts for pain flares

Orion alerts for tremors

Danny's portal accident messed up his nervous system bad enough that he needs his service animals or someone with him that recognizes when he's about to have a flare up or a seizure.

Well one day Danny gets summoned by the league and his support mischief is on his shoulders. Flash immediately asks what's with the rodents and Danny responds with "Kinda rude to ask someone about their service animals." Batman could already feel the headache that would be the HR service animal refresher course. First though they had a big threat to deal with

emotional support rats 🥺 I love that

how can I add onto an already perfect idea

[mrghostrat]

knew i was gonna have fun with all the funky shapes in this one so i made sure to get a recording going!!

plus flowers for ur mutuals 🌸

[chrliekclly]

I think alotta ppl forget that dennis canonically is the best at drawing of the gang nd just focus on charlie being the artist of the gang, nd idk maybe i just wanted to slip that into ur mind

Like i have this funny scenario in my head where charlie challenges dennis to a drawing competition nd dennis draws a near realistic portrait of charlie while charlie vaguely scribbles out dennis but the rest of the gang is just like 'omg charlie i didnt know u cud draw'

art is subjective

[m1d-45]

bloodletting

summary: a budding god needs a place to test their new powers, and childe was always a little too eager to lose a fight... a match made in heaven!

word count: 1.7k

-> warnings : minor AQ spoilers ? just like, general gi plot.. fairly graphic depiction of blood + other injuries (might be classed as body horror???). generally obsessive tendencies (childe <--> you). i cannot stress this enough, reader is 110% a sadist.

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

power was not something that came easy. it was fought over, stolen, defended with teeth and claw, tides of blood shed just so one could have power over another. social, physical, financial; no matter the leverage it provided, power was hard won. to give someone power was to admit defeat, a certain death that tartaglia had learned and taught more than his fair share of times. nobody undeserving of power ever held onto it for long; it was an acknowledgement that you were better, that you deserved it, that you’d won. power was a fickle resource that childe would kill to keep, only ever laying down his blade for a precious few.

the tsaritsa, of course. his fellow harbingers, skilled both on and off-field, who themselves could rival the archons. his family, for whom he’d happily give the world.

and naturally, who would be more worthy to hold power than you?

you, not just a god but the, the highest authority across all of teyvat. you bore a hundred names and a thousand monikers, your worship the one thing the world could agree on. granted, nobody could quite agree on how, but that was fine. childe did not need external powers to tell him what to do. he knew, in his deepest heart, that he had gotten it right.

he knew—and, on occasion, flaunted—that he was your favorite. of all the vessels you had chosen, you returned to him time and time again, wishing on his stars until his vision gleamed. his bow shone with power, even his weakest weapon more than enough to push his strength to new heights. part of him wondered what he could do if you’d granted him swords, or a claymore… but that was speculation for another time. didn’t it say something that you had still chosen him at his weakest?

the thought always made him smile. thick in the heat of puppeteered battle, before the sun to after dark, your presence was a constant in his life. at every altar, with every offering, when his hands stung from the rash of leather and his blade was covered in rust, your name a prayer behind blood-soaked teeth. he could not remember a time when his pocket was not weighted with a charm.

his devotion was no secret. he wore your bow with pride, entirely phasing out his other weapons. it didn’t matter that he was technically more controlled with them, for you had chosen this path for him. your word was his guide, a polar star through bitter nights.

he did not doubt when your presence ebbed or flowed. who was he to dictate when or where you spent your attention? no, his faith did not waver. it had no reason to. he waited patiently, going about his regular duties, lingering in snezhnaya for no other reason that he just felt like he had to.

who was he to question to buzzing in the back of his head? who was he to decline when he felt an instinct to leave, to go for a trip far past the city gates? who was he to think himself better than the guiding light that had never led him astray?

for you, he was whatever you needed. and so he went, armed with a thick coat and snowboots, hands shoved deep in the pockets to hide the slight shake. down the main road, an arbitrary turn into an alley and down an abandoned path, into a part of the city he’d never traveled. but a golden thread had tied itself around his heart, pulling without hesitation. he easily hopped over the fence gate, not bothering with hauling it open through the snow. the path beyond was covered in a thick layer of powder, his foot crunching through a foot of it before hitting solid ground. still, he continued.

snezhnayan winters were not warm. they bit and dug into every gap in your clothes, stealing away the precious warmth within. and yet, with his half-done coat and incomplete guard, he was not cold. or, rather, he couldn’t feel it. his hands were pink with frost, stiff at the knuckles, but he couldn’t feel the resistance. his body was not important, not now.

the snow began to thin. it fell from his knees to his shins to his ankles to his toes, until he was face to face with a thick wall of bramble, impossibly overgrown. he was beginning to overheat in his jacket. twin blades made quick work of the wall, and the sight behind it easily dispelled any breath left in his lungs.

the air that washed out of the bubble was thick and heavy, like a humid spring instead of snezhnayan woods. his breath came in short gasps, a shameful wheeze that he hoped was missed beneath the howling snow. he didn’t want you to see him as weak, as someone so easily tired by a short trip to a falling star; he didn’t want you to think of him as anything other than his best.

but you didn’t push him away. you helped him up—his head was buzzing with delusion, he could hardly see, when had he fallen to his knees?—and brushed the snow off his hair, not pushing him away when he leaned into your touch. he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, could barely collect himself enough to recognize that he needed to get you inside, away from the wilds.

that was power. to so effortlessly take over every thought in his head, to hold his mind in your hands and pull it into your liking, that was the power he adored you for. gods were figureheads of power, a physical incarnation of their dominion. a god of the entire world would only naturally have power to manipulate that world to their liking. how blessed was he, that he could be the first you made yours.

he was with you when you first stepped into zapolyarny palace, looking around at the chandeliers and fine tile. he opened the door for you to her majesty’s throne room, sucking in a sharp breath as you brushed by. he was by your side when the tsaritsa swore you her fealty, delicately placing the gnoses in your hands.

and oh, how he’d fallen to the floor right then and there, dizzy from the wash of power that rolled off you in waves, an ocean that he willingly dove into. the floor was cool beneath his forehead, his hair sticking to his skin as sweat quickly began to bead. he didn’t bother pushing himself up on his hands, teeth sinking deep into his lip again to control his panting breath. copper bloomed over his tongue, filling his mouth and clogging what remained of his senses.

dimly, he was aware that he was being pathetic, that this would surely change your mind about him. he heard your voice, faint through the fog of his mind, your wisdom lost to his own inadequacy. and yet, despite his weakness, every part of him was tuned into you. he knew it was your hand whispering across his shoulders, he knew it was your influence that stole the breath from his lungs. he knew it was you, because it was always you. you were all he could think of, and now you were finally able to leverage your full power over his self.

he’d woken up in a hospital bed. saline dripped into his arm and the lights pierced his eyes, his head full of snow and iced over. and yet, the moment he was cleared for release, he found himself desperate to be back to your side, racing through the tiled halls of the palace and following the urgent burn in his chest. you would have been right to turn him away, to deem him too weak to stay by your side, but you didn’t. you smiled when he lost his breath and laughed when he wavered, brushing off his concern. you invited him with you—his lungs burned with the need for oxygen—as you twirled the gnoses between your fingers, as if they were toys or paperweights rather than objects of divine power.

divine to him. child’s play to you. a courtyard of snow was cleared in an instant, ripples of pyro melting permafrost while keeping the flora beneath intact, a lazy show of power that pulled little more than a slight hum from you in response.

he wasn’t so much a fool as to think he could teach you everything, or even something, about being divine. and yet he clung to your side like a sailor in a storm, watching as you grew familiar with the elements. he watched, stubborn and weak, as you stopped hesitating.

flowers bloomed as you walked by, crumbling to ash with the slightest look. electro jumped from your skin to his, a painful spark that drew his mind from his head, finally seeing your amused eyes instead of just mindlessly staring. you could—should—have just left him behind, but you didn’t. you instead asked for his help, taking his hand in yours and leading him to a quieter hallway of the palace. you didn’t comment on his thundering pulse despite the fact that you could certainly feel it, tracing a finger along the crease of his palm.

“i wonder…”

a claw of geo cut across his skin, a sharp sting that quickly welled with blood. he barely felt it, watching with detached awe as it filled up his hand, sliding over the edge and dripping to the floor. you didn’t show any emotion, just… watching. his heart beat in his hands, a pool collecting on the floor, and still, you just watched. your other hand moved over the surface, barely an inch away, the blood collecting in a bubble beneath it. with a hum, your fist tightened, pain lighting up his arm. a strained grunt slipped between his teeth, hand flinching closed, brushing against the ball of his blood you had pulled from his veins. his hand was stained red, shaking in your grasp, minutes stretched into hours.

all at once, it dropped, forced back into his body as forcefully as it was removed. with a snap, the skin stitched itself shut, and you were again dragging him along like a child did their favorite toy.

you did that a lot. pull him aside and experiment with whatever new reaction you had discovered that month, week, day, hour, watching his reactions with unabashed delight. and he let you. every time, without fail, he eagerly followed, knowing full well he’d end up rigid with lightning or with ice crystals studding his throat. it was worth it, though. you always fixed him up, squeezing his hand with a whispered ‘good job’ that never failed to make him dizzy.

it didn’t matter what you did to him. it never did. even when his mind was hazy with pain and he couldn’t quite stand on his own, he never regretted it. unconsciousness licked at the edges of his vision, burning black stains that lingered even after you stopped, but he never once hesitated.

if you asked him to jump, he’d ask how high. if you felt like holding him underwater, he’d cherish every bruise. to be kept as a toy was still to be kept.

[tansypaws]

mmmmothwing and 15??? if no one has asked that yet

baby, though I've closed my eyes i know who you pretend i am i know who you pretend i am

washing machine heart ; mitski

[patrothestupid]

rat man goes on date with man made of rats... doesn't suspect a thing...

[devotion-disorder]

Hello hi hello smooches you

— 🐀

:0!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[paragonraptors]

an isabela and merrill i sketched a while ago 

[tonberry-yoda]

rats ask for kisses from the spider boys and girls.. i wanna kiss Hobie and Pavitr

AS YOU LITERALLY SHOULD BECAUSE I WANNA GIVE THEM ALL LITTLE KISSES TOO AHHHH! And my two favorite boys??? Heck yes!!! <333 I hope you enjoy the little smooches and have a great day rat anon <3

You couldn't look at Hobie without blushing. I mean GOD, how could a man be born so.... beautiful?

"What're you lookin' at, love?" he asked you with a smirk.

You quickly looked away and felt your face heat. "Sorry."

"Nuthin' to apologize about," he sat next to you and tilted your chin up.

"You're just-"

"Really hot? I know."

You gave Hobie an unamused look and he just laughed at you before wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

"I don't get why you're so nervous around me all the time," he said, pulling you closer. "I mean, we are together, right?"

"We are?" You turned to him. "But I thought you didn't like labels."

"I don't. But we're together all the time and I wouldn't mind... you know."

You did know and that brought you a smile. "Dating?"

"Sure. Whatever you want to call it."

You two had been sort of dating for a long time, sharing kisses and going on "dates," but neither of you ever put a label on it, so it was nice to finally know what was going on between the two of you.

You gave Hobie a quick peck on the cheek, but he turned to you with a chuckle.

"Lame," he said before cupping both sides of your face and pressing a long kiss to your lips.

God, how could a man be so perfect??

"Race you to the top!" you said, barreling away from Pavitr and up a flight of stairs. The two of you had always wanted to see the top of the tallest building in your city, and because you weren't afraid of heights around him, you were going to do just that.

"No, y/n! Wait for me!" he giggled, running after you. The echoing stomps from every step you took filled the stairwell and your laughter could be heard from outside.

You finally slammed through the last door and looked behind you, sticking out your tongue. "I win, Pavitr! You lo-"

You were interrupted when you lost your footing and before you knew it, were falling to the streets below. You went to scream, but were suddenly stopped. You looked up to find Pavitr sticking a piece of his web to you, terrified out of his mind.

"Don't do that, y/n." he said, pulling you up, panting from being out of breath. "Scared the crap out of me."

You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck and pressed a bunch of kisses to his face. "You saved my life."

He blushed and smiled. "Next time, be more careful when we're racing, okay?"

~~~~~

into the spiderverse masterlist | pinned post 2023 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated

~~~~~

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

Demiurge - GN SB Reader Sleeps on His Lap

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

This is a bit short!

I hope that this is something near what you wanted 🐀Rat anon! I did my best! I was a bit preoccupied with other things at the time as well, so I decided to make this a shorter one. —Benny🐰

                                                                                                   

💎•♡•💎•♡•💎•♡•💎•♡•💎•♡•💎•♡•💎•♡•💎

Just how in the new world did Demiurge end up in this situation!? He's unworthy of such an amazing honor as this! Unworthy! The poor arch-devil is only a mere speck floating about in the sea of denizens that make up the Tomb of Nazarick... and yet...

.....and yet.....

...his most treasured one has chosen to slumber on top of his legs! It's like a dream come true! They depend on him to be a stable headrest as they sleep! He's so honored!

But, truth be told, Demiurge had lost his usual composure quite some time ago. Hours, really. His normally gray skinned complexion was now stained a deep crimson red, resting upon his bespectacled face. His whole body seemed to tremble lightly as he fought the instinct to move and readjust his position. Steam was practically shooting from his ears .

"C‐could I bring myself to be so vain..."

The arch-devil mutters to himself; holding a trembling hand just above the soft looking lochs of hair that sprouted from his most cherished one's head.

Just when his fingers are about to graze the snoozing supreme being's head; they stir and shift in his lap and turn their head to face him; grabbing his wrist and trapping his hand palm side up underneath their face. Demiurge's eyes widen as he felt the softness of their cheek. He could feel his face get about 20° warmer than it already had been.

He could feel his breathing rapidly pick up in panic, it was to the point that he was huffing and puffing like a spooked animal. He was touching them without their consent! How would he ever gain the confidence to show himself in their presence once they had awoken! But now... he couldn't move his hand without risk of waking them.

"How have I found myself on the cusp of such a difficult decision..."

Demiurge whispered to himself as he wracked his brain for a fitting solution to such a bizarre situation.

On one hand he could gently lift you from his lap and allow them to properly continue resting on one of the many plush pillows that decorated their bed. But then there's a possibility that he may wake them up or go against their potential unspoken wish to stay in the position they fell asleep in; head on his lap and all.

But, on the other hand, he is still a floor guardian and he has his own responsibilities and duties that come with that title that must be attended to at some point. In addition to that, Demiurge has no business encroaching on such a sacred place as his most cherished one's bedroom in the first place. But if he doesn't stay in place he might risk disappointing them.

"Mmnh.... Demi...urge..."

The slumbering sepreme being slurred with a goofy smile on their face, drool staining his red suit pants.

It seems Nazarick's strategist....

C R I T I C A L H I T ! ! !

...was found incapacitated by unknown means.

In the end, it seems Demiurge didn't have to make such a hard decision after all due to losing consciousness. His brain simply couldn't keep up with how hard it was working to subconsciously keep him from flipping out. His steaming 'corpse' was later discovered by Mare after he hadn't shown up to a summons from Ainz.

Mare reported that Demiurge was hunched over in a squatting position in his room, mumbling something about 'dreaming of me, they were dreaming of me, so honored, I'm so honored' and he also didn't seem to react to outside stimuli of any kind for a good few days.

💎•♡•💎•♡•💎•♡•💎•♡•💎•♡•💎•♡•💎•♡•💎

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

[r-aindr0p]

Tw: talk about l*ague of legends 🤢 (I can be a hater since I play the game)

I'm trying to draw this character who I've been crushing on since I was 12 and like, I literally can't because my brain just keeps going that's not good enough do better! Crying cuz I can't draw my wife properly... ANYWAY there's this magical talking cat in LoL and I really want to draw her interacting with Grim too!

— 🐀

Ohh which one ?? I've played a bit of league some time ago, used to main veigar ! (my fav is Vladimir (pc design) but his gameplay is too hard for me, sobbing, yone looks cool too tbh and oh, that one (1) skin in white suit for swain....)

And I get it I get the same feeling with Rollo, loving the character so much and when you look at your art of them it feels like it's not good enough because they're just that magnificent in our minds 😔 And omg... Grim and Yuumi ... magic floofs hanging out, basking in the sun. Made me want to draw it too eee

[heuldoch7b]

I'm high as fuck and I want to lick your art so bad. I need to eat it. It's jellybeans and I am a poor hungry rat with no self control

what if u were a rat (high as hayll) eating jellybeans with magnus the red (in his loser den in the warp) AND he was disclosing esoteric lore (infodumping at you) and spontaneously generating jellybeans.

[mrghostrat]

2️⃣🅰️Ⓜ️

[oifaaa]

Au where Alfred died with the Wayne’s and Bruce grew up even more feral

The only way for Bruce to end up worse is if no one found him after his parents died and he just raised himself on the streets

[definetelynotavampire]

Doodle request: Can you draw Nikolai and Angel Dust being silly??? Idk I feel like they would be besties <3 (also I love your art sm lotsa love to u xx)

Nikolai searching for Fyodor in hell bc lets be real, he’s probably not in heaven...

meanwhile Fyodor is probably on his way to become an overlord