#Rascal/Thorax

[karticatyt]

random idea i had (also he finally has a cutie mark now ✨)

apples are not meant to fly, no apples get left behind

when small things get kicked around, they just might destroy the town

[feralcoffeebug]

“Past me would have never expected this to be my future. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.” with hornet with her 2 sibs?

Heyo! Thanks for the prompt! And I know it’s been gods knows how long but hey! I finally got around to writing it! I hope it’s okay, I haven’t written for hollow knight in a while!

What she half spider was not used to was a small weight standing on top of her thorax. The weight was cold, so cold it seeped through the silk blanket she had looted from Deepnest.

She awoke with a start, sitting up and firmly hitting her head against another exoskeleton head. With a loud groan she quickly covered the throbbing area and winced open her pure black eyes.

“Ghost…? What in the wyrms name are you doing here?” She hissed out, still tired from being awaken so suddenly from her slumber.

The mute vessel waited no time in jumping down and pulling her blanket from her body, exposing her to the sharp coldness of the house they were staying in while housing was fixed up in Dirtmouth.

“Hey! Ghost!” She called out, lurching back up to try and grab the blanket back from the little rascal.

She would only grab air, and her keen eyes would watch as the white cloth disappeared out the door.

Hornet was quick to jump up, her red cloak was slung over some furniture nearby but it quickly slipped over her horns and she buttoned it up to her neck as she shoved the door open with her foot.

“Ghost!” She was quick to run after the warm blanket her little sibling had stolen.

When she finally caught up with the vessel she was greeted with a different sight that made her pause in her tracks.

A breakfast was made, and Hornet met eyes with a much taller vessel who was crouched down enough to rest the tip of their mask like face on the table. They looked almost guilty.

Hornet immediately knew that this was planned between Ghost and Luna. However, the reason was one she would let the transgression slide for.

She would sit down at the table and soon after a soft cloth would be thrown over the spider, a chitter coming from the culprit as they scampered away to hide behind their sibling.

Hornet shot Ghost a glare after removing the offending fabric that made up her blanket,”Dirty move little shadow.”

Ghost seemed to be rather pleased and not at all threatened, even if the expression on their mask never changed.

“Smug bastard.”

After they had all eaten breakfast that had been lovingly made by the two vessels, Hornet had paused, staring down at the wooden table. A deep exhale came from her that made the other two look at her.

A soft sigh would come from the spider as she looked to them with a soft gaze.

“Past me would have never expected this to be my future. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[obciidian-archived]

❝  i’m here.  ❞ ( lim bros idek )

source    :    open    :    @waldeint

      you’re  here.  you  are  here  physically  alas,  mentally  ?  emotionally  ?  when  was  the  last  time  you  have  held  your  baby  brother  close  ?

      you’ve  failed  him.  this  is  a  rueful  and  woeful  tale  of  multitudinous  hours  spent  in  your  little  haven  /  heaven  ;  the  backyard  –  of  brick  wall  that  you’ve  leaned  your  back  against  while  absorbing  the  sensation  of  your  brisk  digits  and  softest  of  skin  that  your  hand  possesses  against  the  fresh  grass,  fresh  leaves  of  flowers  that  you  have  planted  to  subside  your  psyche  and  become  blind  deaf  and  oblivious  to  everything  which  occurs  around  you.  the  air  that  you  breathe  is  novel  and  it  replenishes  you  with  verve  you  felt  running  short  from  accumulations  –  but  the  air  that  your  brother  breathes  is  dense  and  he  strangulates  upon  his  own  tears,  respiration  coming  to  a  cease  when  he  laments  himself  to  sweet  slumber  yet  another  night.

      your  brother  dares  not  to  capitulate  to  the  sensation  of  equity  for  he  dreads  the  moment  he  shares  his  candid  (  sordid,  cloying  saccharine  supplements  of  mindless  and  rascal  )  heart.  he  knows  you  are  squeamish,  to  say  the  least,  he  knows  you  will  simply  turn  your  back  to  him  as  you  always  have  had.  how  many  times  has  it  been  that  you’ve  evinced  him  sob,  hearkened  him  bewail  to  his  stuffed  frog  in  the  bed  above  yours  yet  remained  in  utter  quietude  ?  as  if  it  is  confidential  between  your  ears  and  your  mind,  you  speak  not  of  the  incarnadined  eyes  which  greet  your  jaded  ones  as  he  returns  from  another  contentious  night  out.  you  choose  to  blatantly  repudiate  the  scent  of  smoke  clung  to  his  clothes  or  the  bleeding  knees  that  sermonize  heedful  solicitude  which  you  haven’t  been  able  to  muster  for  years.  you  close  up  in  your  own  shell  for  emotions  are  inordinately  toilsome  and  laborious  to  engage  in  for  you  are  incompetent  of  processing  it  all  –  facilely,  drains  you  out  of  the  scarce  energies  you  haven’t  had  the  ability  to  emit,  to  use…  you’re  broken,  malfunctioning  ;  yearning  for  axiom  to  turn  into  a  swindle  (  albeit,  apprehend  deep  within  you  that  the  issue  is  too  prominent,  too  profound  to  be  rebutted  )  and  your  inquisitive  eyes  gander  across  abated  lineament  –  such  of  which  display  anguish  adulterated  in  consternation  in  order  of  feasibly  obtaining  a  glimpse  of  satiation  and  even  in  the  slightest.  jubilation  ?  oh,  how  dare  you.  

      ❛    it’s  okay.  i’m  good.    ❜  

      you  know  these  are  lies.  underneath  soft  simper  and  squelched  vox  you  can  attest  (  oh,  you  swear  on  your  dearest  plants,  on  your  mother  dear’s  brittle  life  )  that  you  are  certain  he  is  mendacious.  not  good,  never  remotely  good  –  he  is  aching,  afflicting…  all  alone.  sullen  solitude.  and  now  you  feel  the  repentance.  the  guiltiness.  you’ve  forsaken  your  baby  brother  all  alone  because  you  were  too  selfish  to  comprehend  that  family  means  having  to  take  care  of  one  another  in  their  lowest.  instead,  you  choose  to  run  away.  you  run  and  run  and  run  and  run  until  your  legs  falter  and  you  succumb  into  languishment  –  collapsing  onto  the  cemented  floor  and  shattering  whole  into  incalculable  fragments  until  there  is  no  chance  of  salvaging  you  or  gluing  you  back  to  the  stripling  you  used  to  be  once…  before  all  this  had  occured.  

      ❛    but,  thanks  for  wanting  to  help.    ❜      the  twinge  in  the  midst  of  your  thorax  is  unbearable.  you  cannot  endure  it,  sensation  too  overwhelming  –  as  you  know  that  he  will  never  understand.  he  won’t  ever  comprehend  for  he  is  pertinacious  and  intransigent  thus,  premature  pubescent’s  mind  clogged  with  selfishness  and  not  until  many  years  from  now  will  he  be  capable  of  truly  prudence  as  of  why  you  disengaged.  if  only,  you  could  comprehend  so,  as  well.

      when  was  the  last  time  you  told  him  you  loved  him  ?

      it’s  strenuous  to  recall.  inasmuch  as,  maybe,  for  a  evanescent  moment  to  contemplate  –  perhaps  you  don’t  love  your  baby  brother.  perhaps,  he  is  nothing  more  than  a  nuisance,  a  burden,  a  hurdle  on  your  path.  have  you  ever  asked  your  mother  to  birth  another  suckling  into  the  household  when  no  funds  were  available,  when  you  could  barely  afford  a  ramen  bowl  to  each  of  you  ?  barely  a  roof  upon  your  heads  –  he  doesn’t  not  feel  beholden,  not  now  in  the  verbosites  of  (  feigned  )  gratitude  and  not  ever  in  the  way  he  treats  his  mother  and  your  oldest  brother.  perhaps,  he  is  too  immature  and  juvenile,  imbecile…  perhaps  you  despise  him.  yeah,  you  abhor  him.  you  want  to  smack  his  head  and  thud  it  against  the  wall  and  watch  his  doe  eyes  sob  with  dismay  until  he  assimilates,  until  he  at  least  realizes  that  he’s  been  wrong  all  along.

      so  you  nod  in  response.  an  inaudible  approbation  to  leave  him  alone.  and  once  more,  you  forsake  your  crestfallen  baby  brother  all  alone.  

      maybe  one  day,  you’ll  be  able  to  find  common  ground.  hold  hands.  love.  maybe  one  day.

[brushlesprouts]

From the Warmed Desk - Hydra’s Head Tavern

I do a lot of writing when I am bored at work. Here is one of the quick world-building stories I coughed up one day. Characters I used to play in DnD come together to have a Tavern AU together. Enjoy.

_____

The seedy backstreets of Fwanze are lined with the most bizarre delights and sins that a person could concoct. The gruel and garbage of the city circles the drain and floats down the gutters to the bars and brothels where the regal and a rascal join together to drink bad beer and ogle beautiful young things.

Among these respected and resented establishments, there are a few that stand moderately above the rest. Mainly because they have managed to survive the slurry of puritanical threats coming down from the purging authorities. At the east end, Madam Thorax’s Sinful Dreams will delight any and all who might want a delight for a premium price. To the south, Lucky Legend Land (the Ls are upside-down 7s) will grant you the games of chance you could only dream of in your wildest nightmares. The devil went down to LuLeLa. And to the lawless west, nestled between the grit and thunder of the factories, you have the humble tavern The Hydra’s Head. Newcomers will learn quickly that this place has survived so long thanks to customer loyalty strong community, plus the hydra’s curse threatens if the tavern falls, two more will sprout in its place.

Let’s take a look into this tavern.

Step through the heavy oaken door on any given night and be welcomed to the smell of grilling meat and the sound of laughter. Laborers, traders, and even a few off-duty authorities will be seen sharing a drink and the signature meat pie or steak sandwich. Regular swear by the tender and seasoned meat, but the chef, a burly gentleman, refuses to reveal his recipe or even what animal it comes from. “Old family recipe, da?” He would say, before slamming his butcher’s knife through a thick slab of marbled meat.

As you belly up to the bar to pick up your order of vittles, you will likely see the dazzling stock of liquors and the barrels of artisan brews. It can be overwhelming at first, but thankfully, you have a helpful guide to give you a good idea of what will satisfy. The quick and clever bartender has what you are looking for. Even going so far as to say that he is, “The greatest bartender the world has ever known!” Just be sure to not to stiff him on a tip, you might find yourself short on any shiny valuables you weren’t actively protecting.

And if you are so crass as to try and cause some kind of trouble in this fine establishment, you will likely be forced to contend with the massive bouncer of the Hydra’s Head tavern. Towering over most people, they have a rather calm demeanor and attempt to placate matters peacefully first. But he is known to challenge rowdy guests to duels before beating them senseless and taking their belts. A strange habit.

So if you are finishing your day’s work in the mines, at the factory, or just trying to survive the crowds at the market, you can find rest, respite, and a fine meal waiting for you at the Hydra’s Head Tavern.

[empty-silver-lining]

Tagged by @oculeths - thanks a lot~!

A- Age: 23yo for a few more weeks

B- Biggest fear: Death, both for myself and people I care about. There’s no turning back from that.

C- Current time: 17:04

D- Drink you last had: A mix of cranberry and blueberry juice.

E- Every day starts with: Falling back asleep and almost being late to morning school

F- Favorite song: I’m Movin On by Rascal Flatts

G- Ghosts, are they real: I don’t think so?

I- In love with: Video games.

K- Killed someone: I’ve done euthanasias in a few jobs, but never human ones.

L- Last time you cried: I don’t remember?

M- Middle name: Oooh it’s my mamy’s name and it means “Bright”

N- Number of siblings: Zero

O- One wish: Being able to enter in that master next year.

P- Person you last called/texted: Maddy

Q- Questions you are always asked: I don’t know?

R- Reasons to smile: Every good thing in this world

S- Song last sang: Hate Me by Blue October. Relatable song I always sing in the car ahah

T- Time you woke up: 11AM. Weekends are the best.

U- Underwear color: Black.

V- Vacation destination: Tokyo. I want to go see the Hachiko statue in Shibuya yep.

W- Worst habit: Procrastinating and shutting people out of my life.

X- X-Rays you’ve had: My thorax last summer. The doc wanted to be sure my lungs weren’t affected by whatever sickness I had caught.

Y- Your favorite food: Pasta and sweets

Z- Zodiac sign: Pisces

Tagging whoever wanna do it, it’s fun so guys don’t be shy~

[karticatyt]

sorry i had this mostly done already for a while but i’ve been sick so um oops! here you go!

current changeling refugee kids lineup! i added my Surprise design as one of them! wahooo!!

some details: the new guys are VERY much works in progress still. i wanted them all to be unique among each other so i had to redesign rascal to make sure he and minty stood out next to each other. i ALSO changed his cutie mark. the bottom 2 designs still need cutie marks. i wanted to make 6 of them to mirror the mane 6 in a way, and i’m considering giving them sort of spiritual elements themselves. not the same elements of harmony since those are literal magic stones of destiny but something more like ‘freedom’ related? but i’m iffy on that because i have no ideas on what i’d even call them and this au doesn’t even have a NAME yet. i got a lot to figure out still so bear with me y’all… thinking of naming the yellow dude Artemis….. he was a pain in the ass to color, maybe i’ll share my struggles later.

[karticatyt]

some mlp au stuff from my deviantart to catch this account up to that one

[karticatyt]

I never made a post about Thorax in detail so it’s time i change that!! (while avoiding serious lore spoilers, of course)

He appeared in the first image i posted about my AU, but I never explained him in any detail. He’s one of the driving factors for Cicada’s character development. He is pretty much the antithesis of her character, as the catalyst character of her story. He was raised completely different from her. When Twilight took Cicada in as a baby, she hid her away as much as she could and taught her to keep her true identity a secret at any costs to minimize suspicion and conflict (accidentally having almost the opposite effect). But Thorax was raised by Braeburn and Soarin in Appleloosa to be an active member of society to build community and trust. (His pony name is currently Rascal, subject to change) Thorax doesn’t worry about anybody finding out about his true nature because he has full confidence that his loved ones will stand up for him and support him regardless. He’s likely even admitted his secret to his close friends as well, unlike Cicada. He forces her to question her way of life and, after bonding a bit, even inspires her to not be ashamed of her species and begin fighting for the ability for changelings to live among ponies peacefully someday… if only Chrysalis and her hive weren’t an active threat…

[karticatyt]

https://www.tumblr.com/karticatyt/767875465432252416/gvise-u-a-banan?source=share

*applejack would like to know your location.*

[karticatyt]

some rascal & amber lore…

updated my watermark to have tumblr finally after like 2 months 💀

decided to replace the discord logo with tumblr instead of just adding tumblr on because i don’t see a point in advertising my discord if i have requests limited anyway it felt weird in hindsight to include

[obciidian-archived]

You lied to me. You did the one thing I told you not to do. - kim.

source    :    open    :    @tmtnosce​

      wide doe orbs display a glance of perturbation which is unavoidable. abundantly, subtlety and benign are manifested on his features but now he is inadequate of engendering any of those sentiments. he ganders and the older with awe. in his orbs, subsists consternation more than anything else. the sole inclination which resides inside his thorax is for kim to look at him as if he is the most beautiful artifact that he has ever discovered — much like he usually does whenever they are alone together. now, all is blatant upon the older’s features is a mien of rancor and acrimony which elijah must avow stirs something rascal and menacing inside the pit of his abdomen.

      elijah does not comprehend which exact sentiment it is albeit, that throttling motion within does not feel as pleasant as having kim’s hands traveling across in motion of tracing every nook and every cranny of his physique as if he is sculpting him in his mind, imprinting his touch upon his skin. he misses that.

      he would have much rather if kim were to grab his jaw forcibly, glare into his apertures to tell and indicate he was filled with sullenness, with treason, or with anything that’s…. anything but this lifeless moment, anything aside this distance from one another and that afflicts elijah the most. break his jaw, slap him, strangle him…. anything. he needs his touch. he needs to feel him, more than air to respire, more than anything else in the world – he needs to be embraced in his arms and he needs for his lips to be kissed so he could be reminded that he matters in this world, that his dispute has a meaning of sort. however, this alienation, this lack of proximity makes peculiar sentiment in his abdomen pool. odour : it is fear. trepidation of being forgotten by the person who once saw all the stars in the whole universe inside of his eyes and now… as if he matters nothing. dread of being unloved, untouched. perhaps these emotions and thoughts are irrational ?  granted, elijah is still rather young thence, there is scarcely any solid adroitness apropos to how he feels and what he thinks at times.

      purely a singular thing is definite at this horrid instance : he hankers to be embraced again. for his hair to be fondled with unconditional covet and affection which his clandestine paramour habitually proffers him.

      habitually mellow features now display concern, perturbation, yet more than anything ; yearning. deep inclination for the love that he has gotten so accustomed to in the last few months. apprehensively, the boy takes a step forward. leisurely, neurotically, he prompts his graciously slender body closer to the older one’s. eyes which are usually filled with such sweetness never evinced before now display a please for mercy, display yearning when he senses towards the man in front of him. frailly, luridness decays evident that he’s smitten as he glances into those dark apertures which he savvies so well as his gaze ganders around to his lips which he has managed to memorize their taste of ash and cigarettes throughout sleepless nights. he smiles — merely a soft gesticulation, a twitch of his roseate lips… an ample simper filled with naught but tenderness and covet for he knows that kim is incapable of enduring. and in his beaming there’s genuine gaiety which is reserved solely for him because no matter how many people are in the room kim knows that elijah’s heart belongs to him.  

      and as distance closes now to merely several inches parting them, his hands ( quivering, irresolute ) reach to cup the cheeks of the man he’s addicted to. there is a yearning to savor / relish on those passion filled kisses, the familiar flavor of cigarettes and ashes accompanied to the mellifluence of the boy and the acerbity of the man. a yearning to be engulfed in the sensation of equanimity once again. just once more. but his heart is throbbing, for there is frigidity in this gelid gander set upon him. and it feels as if a raining cloud resides atop his head solely, to storm its woes onto him.

      ❛  i’m sorry.  ❜      he enunciates ever so placidly and serenely, playing on the stings in the other’s heart, knowing that there is nothing that can shift his emotions like his mellifluous vox.      ❛  i had no choice… kim, yo–you’ve got to believe me !  ❜      he pleads, eyebrows knitting in solicitude and amnesty which he displays so openly. he ordinarily articulates so eloquently, as if his verbosity the most tenuous venerated piece of poetry. in a corresponding fashion, the process of his thoughts is fluid —  flowing along his psyche with no vacillation whatsoever… now, he’s standing front of the only person in the entire world who can make him stutter and stumble upon his words, make his mind clouded with notions and agitations.

      he would like to believe it is love.

      there’s only one thing he certain about cannot allow this to develop into an altercation for he would rather bruise his own self than recreate a heartache inside this person whom he admires most. his quivering hands reach for his cheeks tenderly tracing the dermis with a notice of how rough it has become to the touch, how age gingerly moulds more and more gentle marks onto him ( indicating of lassitude and wasted revelations ). look at me as if i am the most beautiful person that you ever observed, he supplicates, confiding that kim always views him this way. he needs to hear that he’s good, that he’s loved. being deprived from those makes him lose his mind. granted, the boy is spoiled thus, when he wants something he gets it no matter what is the cost. and right now there is nothing more that he wants than kim’s affection, appreciation, and acceptance.

      plush bottom lip is jutted forward just slightly, crescents in his eyes as he blinks away the anguish and recoils at the man’s stoical ( yet piercing ) gaze. he’s always felt so naked and bare when kim scrutinized him with that glower, and now is nowhere near an exception.      ❛  please forgive me, i promise i won’t… i won’t do it again.  ❜      customarily he would have felt poignantly piteous for imploring albeit now he knows it is the only way to acquire the leniency which he pines for so intensely. elijah rests the side of his head is just feeling his heart to beat echoed inside of his rib cage. this consolidated pace alleviates him and this conciliation is manifested via the quivering exhale which emits pass his lips – he smiles to himself whilst wrapping his arms around the torso, engulfed by naught other than propitiation ( notwithstanding the situation ). ingenuous ululation as he whispers inaudibly, for only kim’s heart can hearken.

      ❛  please don’t be mad… ❜