Shion: Hey, lean down.
Nezumi: Make me.
i’m really, really sorry
i’ve been having the dumbest art block for about a week and every time i try to draw i just suck
i don’t really have an excuse but i’m trying again today. sorry again sighs i am literally the slowest artist on the planet
For flames-ofthesea (double request) — First person narrative AU fic in which Shion is schizophrenic—with literary freedom on Nezumi’s existence—and a picture that goes along with the story.
I’m falling, again, seeing golden motes in the dusty sunlight. They trail behind me like glass-spun baubles, glistening like small beads of dew on sweetgrass, and I am reminded of lemon drops and and caramel coffee swirls as I watch them dance lightly around me, twinkling and shimmering in and out of my field of vision like fireflies.
A shy hand extends, timidly brushing the honeyed droplets, but they slip through my fingertips like flowing water. I try again, this time successfully, but the instant my slender fingers brush against the gossamer beads, my vision suddenly explodes in a flash of blinding white light.
The atmosphere is charged with energy; colliding electrons and misfiring neurons send sparks of electricity crawling against my skin, and I feel the hair on the back of my nape stand on end as the light burns behind my retinas, making my skull throb with its intensity. There is nothing―no color or sound, sight or sensation―nothing but an immense, electrified silence, yet everything seems full of a rich emptiness. It seeps into and out of every pore in my body. It is bliss.
You’re one of the nicest and sweetest people I’ve ever had the pleasure of talking to, so I’d like to say thank you! Thank you for all the wonderful conversations and compliments, and please stay amazing. :)