Touille · Y/n story by @kyleeaaaa

The cardboard box reeked of stale pizza and something faintly chemical. Rain drummed against the alley walls, turning the garbage bags into slick black mounds. Somewhere above, a dumpster lid clattered.

Toullie

from somewhere above, a dry, chittering voice Sacrebleu. You're blocking the entrance.

Y/n looked up. Perched on the fire escape railing, a rat sat on its haunches, whiskers twitching. He was scruffy, with a jagged scar splitting one ear and a strip of duct tape wrapped around his tail. He regarded Y/n with the flat, unimpressed stare of a creature who had seen worse things than a human in a rainstorm.

Toullie

You're not the cops. sniffed You don't smell like the cops. You smell like— his nose twitched —cheap cologne and bad decisions.

He tilted his head, beady eyes glinting in the amber streetlight.

Toullie

So. What's a person like you doing in a place like this? Besides ruining my evening.