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update for Hornet

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Drawing Hornet everyday until Silksong comes out - Day 436

Request by anonymous!

was unsure how to interpret this so this was the best I could come up with rn

[noneuclidianlasagne]

First of the donation requests, thank you @thethrillof

If you missed it, I'm currently offering art in exchange for donations to a friend of mine. Anything at all helps and I'll gladly draw for you if you do. Even a dollar will get you some art!

You can find my post with instructions HERE!

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Braces

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Me: *to my therapist* I had the spoons, so I did heaps of stuff and now I'm so exhausted I feel sick.

My Therapist: This is where you got to treat spoons like cash. Just because you have them, you need to figure out if you have enough to spend, or else you're going to be in debt. Remember, you're autistic, so you regain those spoons slowly and use them quickly. Everything, good and bad, uses that cash for you. You may enjoy the activity but it's going to exhaust you just as much as a bad activity if you're not careful.

Me: Goddamnit....

[noneuclidianlasagne]

sometimes im like "wow holy shit im being really fucking annoying. i should stop talking" and then i pull out my magic 8 ball and it says "youve always been annoying and your friends chose to talk you anyways. youll be fine" and im like wow thanks magic 8 ball. and then the ogre attacks me

[noneuclidianlasagne]

hey. HEY. artists. writers.

take your TIME

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First ones a headcannon comic about where ghost keeps all that geo

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cake

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Hollow Knight but their shells are iridescent like Jewel Beetles!

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drabble request: whumpee who doesn't know that their life isn't normal, because it's the only thing they've ever had. Maybe they were born into it or taken at such a young age that they don't remember but either way to them it's perfectly normal. Like they'd tell you in the most regular measured voice Well sure i don't deserve food unless I do good, I'm an object that's how it works. Of course they hurt me, how else am I doing to do better next time. (Bonus points for explaining this to a horrified Caretaker)

content: conditioned whumpee, rocky recovery

Whumpee stared at the full plate Caretaker had placed in front of them in confusion. They hadn’t been given tasks today — why was Caretaker rewarding one of their lazy days?

No, the food was probably not meant for them. Maybe they were supposed to guard it? Maybe Caretaker had placed it there for safekeeping. Maybe they were going to eat it in a bit.

“Is something the matter?” Caretaker asked, and Whumpee snapped back to the present, fully at attention.

“No, sir.”

Caretaker furrowed their eyebrows. “You like the food I prepared, right? Or did I make something you don’t like?”

“It’s perfectly fine sustenance, sir. I would love to earn it sometime, if that’s pleasing to you, sir.”

Caretaker only seemed more confused with every word. “Earn…? Whumpee, that’s yours. I prepared it for you.”

Now it was Whumpee’s turn to be confused. “For me? But I haven’t completed the necessary steps to earn it, sir. I assumed… I know I mustn’t assume, but I— I assumed you placed the food here for me to guard it…?”

“Whumpee, you’re not some dog.”

“Of course not, sir. I would never dream of putting myself on the same level as a beloved pet, sir. I know my place, sir.”

Caretaker swallowed audibly. “I’d like for you to have dinner with me. Even if you don’t think you’ve earned it.”

Whumpee even stopped breathing for a moment. The appetising dinner morphed into a death trap in front of them, and they suddenly felt nauseous. “Sir?”

“Go on. Have a few bites.”

The orders they had received were in clear opposition to their conditioning, and Whumpee would’ve rather killed themself than detangle that mess. Their latest order was always to be obeyed. But their latest order was wrong. It was just so, so wrong.

Whumpee was shaking now. They couldn’t look away from the food. They hadn’t earned it. They hadn’t. They hadn’t, they hadn’t, they hadn’t—

“Whumpee?” Caretaker reached across the table and took them by the hand, and Whumpee flinched violently. “Hey. It’s just me.”

“Yes, sir. I apologise, sir.”

“Maybe we don’t… force the dinner thing tonight. If it’s too distressing for you.”

Whumpee let out a sigh of relief, although their muscles were still tense from having disobeyed an order. It was easier to go against Caretaker than their conditioning. Much, much easier. “Thank you, sir. I’ll do better tomorrow, sir. I swear it.”

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When the nightshift nurse entered the hospital room of the recently admitted John Doe, they expected to see them still lying on the bed, semiconscious at best.

Instead, the Whumpee was curled up in a shaking ball at the corner of the room, back to the wall and brows furrowed behind crudely bent elbows. They appeared to have been crying.

"Hey there," the caretaker started gently, softly approaching Whumpee. Still, Whumpee flinched at each fall of Caretaker's shoes on the pristine white and blue tiles of the ICU.

As they came closer, they noticed that the multitude of bandages had been ripped off, the cast on their left wrist scratched at, and the poor thing had been bleeding where they had removed the IV drip. Caretaker sat down on the floor in front of the Whumpee.

"Hey, I'm not here to hurt you. I just want to help you out. My name is Caregiver. I can see you're bleeding there. I have clean bandages. Or we can talk?" The room was silent save for some sniffles and whimpers. The caregiver needed to get what information they could from Whumpee.

"Wh-where am I? Where is Whumper?"

"We are in the hospital, off the main highway. The sixth exit. You are safe here. What's your name?"

"Whumpee..."

"Okay, Whumpee. How old are you?"

"26, I think. Or I was. I don't know how long... it was dark."

"I see. Do you mind if we move this conversation to the bed over there? This cold floor must be pretty uncomfortable." Once again Whumpee fell silent for a second, and looked at the bed like they were calculating something. They shook their head no, and made no effort to move.

"We can sit here for a few more minutes, but I am going to ask that we go over there at some point tonight, okay? I don't want you to get an infection."

"I...I can't. I'm not..." Whumpee gulped. Saying this to Whumper was one thing—they were used to that by now. Saying it out loud to a stranger brought a shameful blush to their face as humiliation snaked its way through their intestines. They briefly remembered a time where they knew how silly this admission was. "I'm not worthy."

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The oc brainrot continues.....

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part 2/6

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had the idea to make a character that meshes well with hornet as A Hypothetical.......

Then The Brain Rot Set In

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Borthday

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A Girl who wishes no more than to hug her past self and shield the dangerous foes.