I'm 23yr, he/him 🏳️⚧️🏳️🌈, and a self-proclaimed freak.
This is where I draw and write. I will ramble if you throw words at me so feel free to send asks.
(I also take art requests from time to time so keep an eye out for that)
BLOG WARNINGS:
- Will have Mature and potentially Dark Content
- Doesn’t like arguments and will freely block mean people
- Slow posting
DNI: antis, minors, homophobes, transphobes, zoophile, pedophile, ableists, racists, zionists, ai slop. Again, I do not like arguing so please do us both a favor and just don't interact.
CURRENT FIXATION: Team Fortress 2 || Sniper TF2 ||
OTHER INTERESTS: Ultrakill || Red Dead Redemption 2 || John Constantine || The Batman (Matt Reeves) || Call of Duty: Modern Warfare || Kingsman movies || Knives Out movies || Gravity Falls || Bigtop Burger || The Amazing Digital Circus || Avatar (James Cameron) || Stranger Things (only until S4)
NAVIGATIONS: (under construction)
MAIN TAGS:
Drawings - #rattus-art, #rattus-artwips
SFM/Loadouts - #rattus-art, #rattus-dolls
Writing - #rattus-write
All Asks - #throw cheese at me
Requests - #rattus-wishes
Miscellaneous talking - #rattus-yaps
Blog Updates - #rattus-updates
|| AO3 || BLSKY ||
((Website Background Photo by Dan Otis on Unsplash))
((Divider by @/sweetestpeacreates))
Currently going thru all my posts to organize my tags manually because i cannot trust myself to not accidentally delete everything through the mass editor.
I KNOW it would be SOOOO much easier if I just use the editor but by god it is 4 in the morning.
Deadass it took me exactly 2 weeks before i processed that it's already may and how ive completely forgotten that i planned to do a tf2 mermay thing since january sjdejfhegd
Idk if I'll actually be able to do that now maybe ill just do sketches and post em here who knows :///
Brother, won't you lay me down? ... I wish it had never come to this.
Or, what happens, when you're suddenly hired to kill one of the brothers you've missed everyday for several years, over & over & over again?
You stay professional about it, of course.
Mitchell 'Mick' Mundy aka RED Sniper is mine!
Richard II 'Dick' Mundy aka BLU Sniper is @lancelou's!
Drew something silly of @ratsandclocks' sniper OC Rick with his man Engie!
...because I may or may not have left a metric ton of whump thoughts of our bois like a cat leaving a dead bird on the doorstep for them to see first thing in the morning and felt bad. Oops.
I've barely been posting much recently because I've been genuinely consumed by our (me, @wolfs-writing-den , and @lancelou 's) Sniper OCs, and now I feel the need to share just how insane we have been about this fixation for the past month (or two), so have this very small snippet of whatever the fuck is wrong with us
And this isn't even including the shit we say in discord and the doodles we haven't finished or the extensive list of art wips we have, there is way too much ajdgsjdhdhf.
We wanna share more about them because these silly men we made up has taken over our lives, in fact we are going to make a dedicated blog about these idiots, just because, so look out for that when it's up.
I don't know how much we'd really be able to share or if any of this will lead to anything bigger, I just desperately need people to know that these little fictional men exist and they are my world right now.
The past keeps doggin' my steps, nippin' at my heels.
...
Did I set out to weave in a bunch of symbolism and bs to make my Sniper OC, Mick, of the Terror Triplet AU wild dog/dingo coded? No. Has he ended up that way anyway?
....Yeahhhhhh. Yeah, he has.
Alt Dark BG version below ⬇️ Since I couldn't decide what I liked more.
He may not have the sheer sprint speed of that RED shrimp, but in another life he was a gymnast- and he's been at this Gravel War racket longer than his counterpart.
More yapping + shirtless post-boxing match art below ⬇️ (cw: blood)
This idiot's from the same AU as the Sniper Terror Triplets - he's BLU Sniper's (cough, @lancelou 's Richard the 2nd...aka Dick) self-proclaimed Best Friend, and finds personal offense in Dick's complete disregard for any kind of common decency. He's the eldest of 8 and the only son of the family, and absolutely adores all of his sisters.
📝1213 words || mild hurt comfort || Sniper OCs
I have been taking walks and touching grass which helps a lot with writing, so have this random blurb I made specifically to get payback on my friends for whumping up our sniper OCs in our docs file.
Mitchell "Mick" Mundy by @wolfs-writing-den
Richard "Dick" Mundy II by @lancelou
Ricky does not plan on sleeping tonight.
He lays on the bed awake, waiting ‘til the whole building is quiet and deep in slumber. The shared room crowded in the brothers’ unexpected return, filled with various snoring and the sound of the ceiling fan barely making the room ventilated for every kid in it.
He sits up and quietly hops off the uncomfortable bunk bed, tiptoeing towards the window on the far east side of the room. It's the only one that doesn't have a proper lock, but the caretakers never noticed it. He carefully opens it, letting the cool night breeze in. He looks back to make sure everyone is still sound asleep before climbing out the window, stepping out into the yard and feeling the cold grass under his bare feet. He took a few more light steps until he reached the swings, sitting on one with a slight metal creak.
Another home rejected them.
That’s putting it generously — they were kicked out, the supposed new caretaker screaming at them while their belongings were thrown across the dirty pavement. It’s no big surprise, the lot of them are rascals, and even worse, they’re brothers; the Ride-or-Die ones, any of them gets into trouble, the other two jumps in. Some kind of tactic they’ve all wordlessly agreed upon long ago, keep each other safe — they can’t punish all three of them now, can they?
He looks up, some clouds float by the otherwise clear night sky. The stars are distant, and it’s a cold night.
Part of him feels some shame. He knows most of their antics are unreasonable; they lie, they steal, they pick fights, they ruin things “just for the hell of it”. And it’s especially outrageous since he can help it, they do know better, they just actively decide not to care. And being the troubled kids, they’re either feared by their peers or despised by the adults. And the one thing he can't help is the shame — just how many families would they disappoint? Just how many people would they bring the worst out of? Just how many more would spit at them and tell them they’re not wanted?
There was a muted crunch of grass behind him and he whips his head, meeting eyes with Micky frozen halfway of him stepping out of the same window Rick came out of.
“Bloody hell, mate. How’d you even hear that?” Micky whispers, slowly stepping out the window. Clumsily hopping to get his other leg out but still catches on the sill, he falls on the grass with a thud.
“Look at ya… your feet’s heavier than a hog, Mitchell.”
“Shut up.” Micky stands to dust himself off, walking up to his brother and taking his seat on the vacant left side swing. “The hell you out here for, anyway?”
“Just thinkin’...”
“You can do that?” Micky quips as usual, expecting for his brother to give him a punch on the shoulder. But Ricky was quiet, watching Micky pick off the stray grass that caught in his clothes.
There comes the guilt. As much of a scoundrel all three of them could be, Rick ain’t exactly innocent from starting the trouble they find themselves in. He’d argue he’s the one who causes it the most. Usually the moment he sees the tiniest crack on their new potential parent, he takes it upon himself to break it open and see how rotten they are from the inside. Even if it’s their own strategic way of judging their future home, there is that fear that maybe, just maybe, they’d have found the perfect one if he didn’t take things a step too far.
“You think we’re doin’ the right thing, Micky?”
“What you on about?”
“I mean the last home…” Ricky sighs, holding onto the left chain of the swing with both hands and slumping his weight on it. “I kinda feel bad for that old lady…”
“You mowed her lawn, Richard.”
“Yeah, and her tulips…”
“She had a bloody cat!” Mick raises both hands, “They coulda killed that poor thing if it weren’t for us! She can’t even take care of it! It’s good she don’t want us, she can’t even manage not to poison an animal. Next thing ya know she’d be makin’ us tea from her oleander shrub.”
Rick groans and drops his head to rest on his arm, shivering when he feels the gust of night breeze. His feet tap on the grass as he thinks.
Oh, Mitchell and his books… Rick didn’t even know what he did aside from destroying a garden, he just wanted to piss her off. She got annoyed that they wouldn’t finish their breakfast, so he was “punished” to mow the lawn — “You’re the eldest, aren’t you? Then ya better be leadin’ these two by example.” — his only excuse was that she never said how much of the lawn should be mowed.
“You’re too smart for your own good…” Ricky grumbles. “But really, think about it… what if… we were just… a bit nicer…”
“Then they’d eat us all alive.” Rick jumps at the new voice closer to him, so deep in thought he didn’t even notice Dick walking up to them. He drops blankets on the other two’s lap and lays another one on the grass to sit on, one arm holding tight on a jar of dried nuts.
“Where the hell did you get that?”
“Inside.” Dick answers, opening the jar to grab a handful before giving the rest to Mick. Ricky doesn't question anymore how he got in the kitchen without getting caught, or where he got the blankets, or how he got it through the window quietly — just watches as the boy lays on his blanket to stare at the sky, snacking contently on his food. Micky offers the jar to Ricky. It took him a second before grabbing a handful himself.
“I’m sure we're better off not stayin’ there.” Dick breaks the silence.
“That's what I said.”
“But…” Ricky breathes in, curling onto himself, “Don't you want a proper house to live in? Actual parents? Food we won't have to fight the other kids for?”
“We’re doin’ just fine, mate. Don't be feelin’ all guilty now.”
“Yeah! And besides, it ain't like any of ‘em twigs could fight us off.”
“That's cuz you eat like a wild dog.” Micky says, throwing a piece at Dick’s face, who simply catches it with his mouth and grinning proudly, earning a small kick from Mick to his shoulder.
Rick looks up at the sky once again. The three of them sat there, wrapped in blankets he was sure would get them scolded for dirtying up. There he feels warmth, surrounded by his only family. He knew then, he’d risk everything to find themselves a good home. One with no survival, one with no shame. And when the day comes that the world rips them apart, he’d fight tooth and nail to bring them all together.
With bloody dirty claws, he’d keep this family whole.
But tonight, they watched as the sky cleared up, the stars no longer obscured by the clouds. The wind sings for them, and food is shared among the brothers. Tonight, the stars shine bright only for them.
Saw a very silly image of an old guy fishing on a giraffe pool floaty, and knew I had to redraw it with the Terror Trio Sniper Triplets - but mostly @ratsandclocks 's man Rick, with a side feature of @lancelou 's gremlin Dick and my mutt, Mick. Cuz y'know. It isn't about them.
