[Banner is of two orcas circling a star, in the middle of space. Profile picture is of an egg-shaped orca wearing headphones.]
I do not do commisions and never will.
Every single artwork I put on here (including reblogs) is MINE. They are all free to use and re-upload with credit (unless stated otherwise). If you see anyone reuploading it without credits then please tell me.
Additionally, you can also just.. embed a watermark into the image stating that it is mine (and NOT YOURS) instead of having to type it all out. You don’t need permission. If you reupload it on Pinterest with no credit, expect bad things to happen.
Things I will never draw
(plaintext: Things I will never draw)
Art relating to any media owned by Glitch (I am a person of colour, I think that’s enough to tell you)
I remember when I dashed around the beautiful reefs, playing with my siblings and chasing predators. I remember when I leapt across the globe into a small puddle, yet they still bothered to help me. When everyone was nice, helping each other and leaving food for everyone
But the waves brought me to a place that isn’t as kind and isn’t as small. The sheer volume of this archipelago makes me shiver in scared jitters. The predators I once fooled, were now smarter, not noticing the playfulness of my nips but rather my delicate skin and how good it would have felt beneath their blades for teeth.
When I leapt out of the water, I found myself caught up in a prickly bush that didn’t let go till a Dunklaestus ripped it apart to catch me. It is with the help of Zohutek’s kindness that I escaped her piercing jaws, yet no one was kind enough to rip the scars away from my body, and I only garnered more.
Life has been terrible to me, now that no one bothers to help. I have only garnered more and more cuts from animals wanting to rip me apart and making the world forget my existence that was now benign, and my sadness has delved me into a maddened craze making me look shallow and malnutritioned.
What was once my playground—the corals that I circled, the anemones I sheltered and the kelp I fed on—is now a mere hazard to me because of my ill mentality. I wish somebody out there had the courage to save me from my own mind, but alas they always do it the wrong ways.
I have felt no other emotion other than heartbreak and fear, and I wallow in the despair of my own sickly brain. I have asked everybody why I am like this, but they avoid me and keep their dirty little mouths shut. I am trying not to puke at the thought of a happy Anthozoa, or at the thought of me being so allergic to my own mind.
And in my terrible mood I have tried to go back to save myself and bring back my own joy, but there is a behemoth that guards the barriers. It circles the archipelago round and round, its size immeasurable. I shudder to think of what the largest of this realm think of it, because I have not seen anything close to such length.
I believe it is Malveathian, which marks my second Warden that I have had the pleasure of meeting with. But he does not talk, and he does not care about my questions.
And he is too fast for me to catch up—even as the fastest of Sonaria. I miss the days where I could jump over the whole world and see all the animals and plants in as little as a go, but now it is too big for me to dare look at.
The horizon is so expansive, yet Malveathian does not care—for he looks at me and shudders to think of what I see the world as, how he and his brethren would only see me as a small speck amongst the white flakes that swim across the sea.
How would he see my old home, for it barely fits him? I have leaped across his back, but I can not catch up to him no matter what. He is simply too fast.
Before I could talk to him, his offspring had chased me down and almost bit away my brain to shreds. I wonder why they would want me, if I am so small and so sad.
I thought the world would be kinder to me. And yet it is not.
My name is Anthozoa. I am a Pelagic Nimoona. My father is a leader, my mother is a fighter. My sisters always fought each other.
One day I was out near the beaches. I saw a cluster of unprotected eggs floating in the tides. I took a bite. I flew out of water. It was the end.
Or so I thought.
I am now old enough to go with the flow—alone.
My eyes took in the bright sun’s light simmering and squinted, refracting in the tides as I swam by. Blues after blues surrounded me, and the sea was rather calm. Too calm to be true, in fact, that I was getting rather terrified.
It was eerily quiet, with nothing stirring other than the waves themselves—something that happened since the day Malveathian was born.
Yet, if I wanted to run, if I wanted to fly away from a predator, I wouldn’t be able to. The only thing around me was the endless expanse of ocean, but I couldn’t even hide away.
Long ago I remember something happened to me.
I was playing with my sister Aphelius, but then something rosred with a snarl so strong it shook the waves up and down. A large figure sped between us.
I never saw her again.
And that day taught me something—life can be lost so easily. Too easily, so I wondered, why couldn’t Farhaus bring us another?
I came to his shrine. He told me that was supposed to be the world of Sonaria, that you are supposed to learn from those around you—and that their deaths teach you the most important lesson you could ever have.
I never heard his voice again. Each day I still came back to his shrine, fighting against the tides to beach myself on the Flower Cove and pull myself towards his place.
And when I call for him, nothing happens. The first time I tried, there was only a rumble.
I remember when I used to carelessly chew on the algae and play with animals trying to eat me. But now I eat with precision and feel every centimeter, and look around my surroundings like a terrified Eulopii being pursued.
This place I was forced into, the terrifying blues that seemed endless, felt like a calling from Farhaus. That it was supposed to be him teaching me to be a real Nimoona.
I heard a rumble—to close for comfort. I looked around me at every angle. There was nothing and nobody.
