#Utilizing Light

[botanyshitposts]

today’s lichen mystery: are these brick wall utility light enjoyers enjoying it because of the constant artificial light or because of how rain wraps around the neck of the light and dribbles down the wall in a slightly denser patch there (ensuring optimal eroded nutrients and trace microplastics)? many such things to consider

[radioroxx]

headcanon that people of the islands sleep schedule is like, four hours later than average.

they wake up at mid day, and sleep well past midnight. kids begging their parents on weekends to pleeaaase please let them step up just a little longer to watch the sun rise. early-riser visitors / tourists having to adapt to their horrid schedule because stars forbid theyre up and about at 10:30.

[munch-mumbles]

khan metro is such a funny fucking character i love the sections of the games where we have to follow him for a while because 90% of the time hes just giving you wisdom about how the metro is alive or whatever and 10% of the time youre on some insane jackass shit

WHAT THE FUCK ARE WE DOINNGGG

[captainhysunstuff]

19 more images below the cut (WARNING: Some PG-13 saucy shenanigans ahead)

Part three of their date: an unconventional visit to a nearby alley so Light can clear his head and try to get to the point of the outing. The events lead him to becoming confident enough to move onto the next stage...

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Master List

Transcript

[dykedvonte]

I think most of the space on the Tulpar is taken up by the cargo area and the ship is actually very small. It literally only contains the components to keep the crew alive and simulate enough comfort that they don't go full shinning cabin fever like month two.

This is just to say I've been overthinking about Swansea's line about wanting to give Daisuke a chance to get off "this rock" and imagine Jimmy chose an asteroid the size of the Tulpar or bigger to ensure they'd all die. Either it just didn't work or maybe Curly did have a small window to rear the ship out of it's direct path explaining his unlikely survival in a head on collision and why the foam actually saved them.

[angel-roses-delight]

episode 2

[front-facing-pokemon]

[all-my-crap]

[quayrund]

Tina Modotti - Telephone Wires, Mexico. c. 1925.

[daily-ynfg-worlds]

A Long Journey

[spliqi]

i’m actually distraught over the difference between how dazai talks to akutagawa vs how he talks about him

[finitevoid]

vv roleswap

Vanitas sits cross-legged on his bed, holding Terra’s old practice Keyblade and contemplating the exam’s results. You failed to keep the darkness inside of you in-check. Terra, hesitantly, as if despite himself, had looked at Vanitas, when their master said that. 

Vanitas rubs his gloved hand over his mouth, relishing in the scratchy feeling of leather against his soft skin. His thumb brushes the wood grain of the Keyblade, idly. 

Vanitas ponders the ways of the light and the dark. Terra and Vanitas have always been close; and what is Vanitas, if not ineffably tainted by the dark?

He chokes on the thought, attempting to swallow it and the emotions it conjures. He cannot allow himself to make an Unversed. Vanitas is being foolish; foolhardy, as his Master would say. He has to keep better control of his wandering thoughts; a focused mind leads to a focused heart, and only with focus can Vanitas overcome the darkness inside of him. 

And then there’s a wooden knock on his doorway. Expecting Aqua, or maybe the Master, Vanitas tosses the practice Keyblade onto his bedspread with more force than it probably requires, raising his head somewhat miserably, to look at—

Vanitas goes very, very still.

A boy stands in the open doorway, standing prim and tall. He’s dressed in… some kind of armor, Vanitas decides. It doesn’t look like metal, but it doesn’t look like cloth either. Not quite flesh, though something about it feels… organic. Bright, gleaming white, it hugs the boy’s torso, covering him from the tips of his fingers to the spiked, jagged helmet that covers his face.

He’s standing with one hand behind his back, and he raises the other in a jaunty wave. He bobs excitedly in place, leaning his weight on his heels. 

It sort of reminds Vanitas of when he… no, that can’t be right. But there’s something about this boy, something that has him freezing still like a rabbit standing before a predator. An Unversed tugs itself from his chest, bubbling up from the pooling darkness at Vanitas’ feet. 

A Hareraiser rises from the ground, formless purple turning into a rabbit, red eyes crying, holding onto its own ears. Vanitas feels his fear ebb, halfway to being calm. Swallowing the immediate rush of guilt and regret that tastes like bile, he fixes his gaze on the stranger.

He stands from his bed, falling into a combat position. The masked boy pays this no mind, though. Instead, he bends a little at the waist and coos. “Oh my,” he gasps, reaching out for the Unversed. “Aren’t you just the cutest little thing!” It flinches away from his outstretched fingers, skittering across the wooden floor. It hides behind Vanitas’ shins, making tiny noises.

“Who are you?” Vanitas snaps, making his voice as authoritative as he doesn’t feel.

The mask tilts, until it's faceless visage is looking at Vanitas, and not the Hareraiser. “So that’s seriously your Negativity? That’s so cool,” he sighs, forlorn and breathless, like he’s genuinely jealous of Vanitas’ Unversed. “Oh, sorry!” He chirps, straightening up suddenly. “Where’re my manners?” He hooks his hands underneath his helmet and pulls it off, revealing—

—something about his face is making Vanitas’ head spin. Spin and spin, like someone’s attached a rope to his heart and is tugging on it, incessantly. Something is making Vanitas’ chest feel hot and his fingers twitch. Viciously, he pushes it down. Shoves it back down and stomps on it, pulling on his memories of his Master’s advice for strength.

“You have to be in control, Vanitas,” Master Eraqus had said, three years ago now, eyes stony with seriousness. “You can never, ever let your heart run wild.”

It helps, a little. It makes him feel more grounded, present in his body. He is the master of his emotions, and one day, he will be free of his darkness. He just has to remember that.

Unbeknownst to Vanitas’ disparate emotions, the boy beams wide. His cheeks are ruddy with a youthful vigor that Vanitas lacks, and his green eyes sparkle like gems. There’s something bright, about his eyes, about his teeth. Like they’re backlit by the setting sun, just enough to make them gleam.

Blonde hair bounces as he sticks his hand out to shake. “I’m Ventus!”

He doesn’t want to touch this boy; something is telling him not to touch him. Something in the heart-pounding fear rattling his chest. Except for— something in him wants nothing more than to touch him. To feel— skin unlike Vanitas’ own. Unperturbed, Ventus drops his hand, grinning wide.

“I can’t believe myself! My master would have my head for being so rude!” He laughs, cheerful and bubbly, shaking his head. He thumps the heel of his hand to his forehead, expression sheepish. “That’s no way to introduce myself, is it? Especially not to someone who could become a friend.”

He drops his hand, and something about his entire cadence changes. His expression sharpens, though it doesn’t change; his smile goes from sheepish to wicked between one blink and the next. “Because we are going to become friends, aren’t we…” there’s something leading in his tone, halfway sweet and halfway… something else. “…Vanitas?”

Vanitas’ fingers go cold, and before he can swallow the feeling, another Hareraiser is rising from an inky puddle at his feet. Then two more, rising into existence as if formed from the shuddering in his chest, the pounding of his heartbeat. 

“How do you know that?” Vanitas asks, sharply. Another Hareraiser, and only then does the fear fade. “Tell me how you know my name.”

Ventus’ eyebrows climb to his hairline, a smile frozen to his face. “I know a lot,” he says, shrugging like this is… like this is nothing, a casual discussion, a joke. He smiles like Vanitas is an idiot, fluttering a hand. “‘Cause, the thing is… I’m not from here.”

Vanitas stares at him, blankly.

Grinning, Ventus extends a finger towards Vanitas’ window. Not just his window; at the sky. The stars. Other worlds. He’s from… he’s from away. He’s from outside. 

Vanitas wasn’t born on the Land of Departure. Nobody is; the Master welcomes those with the aptitude to wield a Keyblade, or he gifts them with the aptitude. Aqua and Terra don’t ever talk much about their life before coming here, but he knows there’s nowhere for them to return to. Why would there be? Their home is here.

Except, Vanitas wasn’t born here. His memory is— infamously— spotty, but he remembers… not a desert so much as just dirt, dirt devoid of life. Scraping against his soft, bare palms; hard dusty rock that spat clouds that made him choke. Flashes of sheer brown cliffaces, and the taste of his own blood.

“You’re from outside…” Vanitas says.

Ventus laughs like that’s just so funny, shoulders shaking and chest shuddering. He laughs like nobody Vanitas has ever met, like his laughter buoys him, elevates him, makes him better. And something burns in Vanitas— something between this boy’s face, and his laugh, and his name. 

Wait. 

The only other Keyblade Master— the man Master Eraqus had called his good friend— who’d come to oversee Aqua and Terra’s exam… he was from outside, too. This boy had joked about a master, maybe even a Master.

Vanitas says, “Master Eraqus said Master Xehanort didn’t have an apprentice.”

Ventus’ expression snaps to Vanitas, and for the first time, something truly ugly flashes across his face. And then it’s smoothed out, turned into something gentle and soft and a little mocking. “Well… if you spend all your time locked up here,” he shrugs a shoulder, giving a gentle smile. “What’dyou know?”

Vanitas doesn’t look down to see whatever Unversed that statement spawns; he just stands there, almost stutters out of his combat stance, and then forces himself to summon his Keyblade. Void Gear is heavy in his hand, and he holds it in front of himself defensively.

Ventus’ eyes fall onto the Keyblade, and then flick back to Vanitas’ face. “Funny,” he says, a wry tilt to his mouth. “Can I give you some advice? Since we’re friends?”

“Since when have we been friends?” Vanitas snaps.

Ventus laughs again. “Since always, silly,” he mimes wiping a tear from his eye. “But, hey. Since you don’t believe me, I’ll tell you anyway! Call it a sign of good faith.” He beams, clasping his hands in front of himself. “You might…” He taps a hand to his cheek, looking up at nothing, theatrical, “…want to check on Terra.”

“What?” Whatever Vanitas was expecting, it wasn’t that.

“I don’t think he’s gonna be feeling like himself,” Ventus says, the sides of his smile curled up sharp. “Not for much longer, anyway.”

Vanitas’ mind is racing, even as more Unversed rise from his feet. The Master will be so disappointed in him… but he can’t think about that. Instead, he thinks about Ventus. About his words, and his mocking smile, and the fact that he knows Vanitas’ name.

“What’s gonna happen to Terra?” Vanitas’ voice is foreign to his ears, a cruel scrape against the otherwise quiet. “What are you going to do to Terra?”

He feels the Unversed looming around the dark corners of the room.

“Me?” Ventus says, pointing to himself. “Nothing.”

“What is your master going to do, then?”

His eyes glow. He seems to gleam. His face… looking at it, Vanitas feels hot. Like claws raking against his heart, rending open his chest from the inside out. Looking at his face makes him feel like Vanitas is oozing something.

“Who are you?” 

“Who cares?" He says, easy as breathing. "Anyway, my master'll be expecting me back. Nice meeting you!” Ventus waves a hand, wiggling his fingers. And then there’s a pop, so loud Vanitas’ ears hurt. A bright, white light flashes, like lightning crashing against the cold ground. Vanitas flinches away, flinging Void Gear in front of his chest protectively.

When he blinks, Ventus is gone. Vanitas is alone.

Well, Vanitas and a horde of Unversed. He rubs at his nose, blowing out a frustrated breath. Another Unversed forms as he does; a Blue Sea Salt hovers in the air next to his head, and it gently headbutts him. 

Vanitas shoves it away, still trying to calm the racing of his heart. A Bruiser noses underneath Vanitas’ arm, and he allows himself to lean against it, lightheaded. He doesn’t know what’s going on— not yet. 

But he needs to find out. He needs to warn the Master, about this boy, and—

Maybe… Maybe he better check on Terra, first. That’s all. It’ll all make sense. Vanitas will make it make sense. With his bare hands and determination clutched in both fists, he’ll make it make sense.

And if he locks the Unversed in his bedroom, trapping them inside… well, nobody needs to know. He has to take precautions. He has to hide the evidence. He has to figure this out.

He needs to focus.

[tired-needs-sleep]

raju elytra, fire/light conjurer

[vargaslovinghours]

The unusual but no less hard-hitting 10½! (1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9)

So as it turns out, I did so many Blank Slate/Have you lost your mind? doodles that I ComPletely broke the last sketchdump lol, so it gets it’s own! Who could’ve figured that making basically a full comic of Chapters 2 and 3 would’ve made just a few too many sketches lol

Because of that, I’d strongly recommend reading what I've posted of Have you lost your mind? so far before this! Spoilers and author’s notes/behind the scenes warnings and all that haha

Concept sketch for Scriabin - I always love having visual signifiers to denote timeline/AU/etc. differences so you can tell at a glance where you are :) His silhouette gets to be correct! The details, well, sorry we forgot those ♪

And concepts for Edgar! I've drawn him in different glasses before so it was a bit of an excuse, using these new/old glasses to do so again haha

But in the end I went for a reference! Remember when I drew Edgar's glasses tiny?

And I mean, if he hadn't worn them in a while, maybe they're just a bit small on him! Lol

Poor memory-less Edgar's musings, it's not just sad to be forgotten, it's sad to forget :(

Early concept of Scriabin freaking out by himself in the bedroom. I'm glad I got to keep it :D

Always gotta draw 'em reacting to something just out of frame

Poor Scriabin, he wants to be close despite knowing Edgar doesn't remember him. He has to face this whole Being Human thing completely alone! Edgar just doesn't understand!

He doesn't know how good he's got it haha, if I was really mean I'd have let him keep his glasses instead. There's a bunch of fun themes either way, but stealing from Edgar while hiding in his own hair is as good as any hehe <3

Blank-faced Edgar, I ended up with a lot of these, unsurprisingly. Doesn't help that he's cute haha

As usual, starting from the middle - it's just easier to get ideas flowing around a core! Also that note pointing at Edgar of "Put Todd to bed" was all the everything of the prep work I did for writing that little section, but the rest Absolutely Needed storyboarding lol

He might come to resent you if you manhandle so much right after meeting for the "first" time

Scriabin actually touches him in the original draft, but after I thought about it, it'd probably take a bit to cross the touch barrier comfortably again! Scriabin's still weird about Edgar but Edgar is wary, it's an interesting dynamic

I won't show off every panel, but panels like these where I think they turned out especially cute Have to be included haha <3 I dunno what it is but Scriabin pouting always turns out adorable ♥

Floof harder! Edgar's innocent expressions ahh <3

Starting to lay the groundwork, but still a bit nervously! It is quite fun how they skirt each other, not quite sure what the other knows - how many lies can Scriabin get away with before he gets caught!

Scriabin using some informed guesswork in conjunction with what he definitely knows, he is rather intelligent :) You can also see Edgar's unfocused eyes well in this one, I tried to draw them fuzzy behind those glasses hehe

These are all lined up like this on the page :D Really happy with his hand expressions here, and his face haha

This was one of my favourite lines - he keeps making excuses for Nny! Edgar no! - I fully admit that it's also partially influenced by how cute Edgar turned out haha, the poor thing - but he's so wonderfully fluffy!

I love this line as well, Scriabin utterly convinced that all his hard work must have gotten through to Edgar somewhere in there, he said it often enough, he must have listened to him at least once-!

And then Edgar completely cuts him off and redirects him haha, they’re both hopeless <3

So mad at himself and Edgar, comedy = pain + time, but this is still fresh! Give yourself some time!

That last line in particular is so insidious because he did that, Scriabin was the one who put him in that situation, and now he’s trying to turn it back around on him! He's the worst ♪

Guilty Edgar <3 Still pressing on (changing the subject so he doesn't have to linger on the feeling hehe), he does have his own questions

These kinds of exchanges were especially fun to look back on from their individual perspectives since I only drew it once, starting with Edgar. How honest can Scriabin really be? He can't explain everything and not be kicked out for being a potential danger to Todd or Edgar! He's gotta play his cards Just So

Edgar is also quite intelligent! Catching Scriabin out in a lie, even when he's trying so hard to skirt the truth!

Scriabin so mad about being called out, gotta rub it in just a little bit that he's Totally Right lol, what a brat <3

Scriabin is legally and morally and emotionally and spiritually obligated to mess with Edgar sexually in literally every iteration of his existence, it is a core tenant of his being and also he really really wants to (lol) ♪ Drawing Edgar all blushed up is just a bonus, who does this stranger think he is! What has he forgotten! He's not some easy man! Haha, if you only (still) knew, Edgar

Whatever he was going to say would just hurt Scriabin's feelings, better to just cut him off before another reminder gets laid out

Probably my least favourite dialogue that I had to change was making "?" into something that flowed better in just-text, it's not the same! Lots of little notes about word choice actually haha. Love them reaching for each other even like this <3

Edgar has all these feelings to contend with! My favourite shot is easily the last one, Scriabin's relaxed mouth while Edgar's heart is beating out of his veins right into his ear ♥

Pls o////ò;

Existence is exhausting

Even without knowing him, he's just a cautious guy :) And he wants to be gentle with him! He doesn't realize what he's doing, what his actions would mean to Scriabin if he could see them, and he does them all the same 💕

Pretty lad <3

Technically backtracking, to Ch. 3! POV shifts are fun lol

Zarla mentioned Scriabin curling up into a ball in the blankets and I thought it was a cute visual haha ♪ Haven't had a use for it yet but never say never hehe

I wanted to go for some high perspective shots to drive home the uncanny feeling of being really truly alone for the first time ever. That, and he's dramatic anyhow haha

His posing was very important to me! Since Edgar knocks on the door while he's still leaned against it, the contact points would Feel a specific way

Scriabin got a lot of「bracket notes」for his section, usually as digs lol, where does Scriabin get off saying that Edgar has no tact haha

More blank-faced Edgar! These were actually drawn separately - could be chalked up to how each of them remember the event! Edgar sees himself as more put-together and Scriabin as more foolish haha ♪

That horrible sinking feeling

I pick on him a lot but this really would be incredibly scary and sad! He's alone, expelled, and the only person who Knows him now doesn't even recognize him! This was probably the one scene I wanted to be just a bit longer, really feel the weight, hmm

But he's also quite resilient haha, he has to be <3 He has enough tenacity, thank goodness haha

One of those examples of panels basically repeating lol, I can only fit so much text per pose! Plus it's fun to see the little body language differences :)

Another bracket note lol, Scriabin has to be the best at everything!

And another, have I mentioned that Kaggie is my favourite of the two? ✨ I'd still like to give both K and D a more sizeable reference sometime! Scriabin continues to be the cutest when he pouts, agh <3

Touchy touchy touch ♥

I do love the phrase "feeling himself" right after the last panel lol - it can be both literal and metaphorical! And that's what you get for not cleaning up after yourself! I swear that lightswitch panel confused me so many times on reviewing notes lol

He's not even careful pfft. Then again if he was, he wouldn't have a mess to grumble about in the first place!

A familiar face while Scriabin's already feeling small on his lonesome, ~it's symbolic~

Ough, it hurts to think that Edgar might actually be able to watch Zeitgeist, not knowing the deeper implications. The thought of him inviting Scriabin to see it! 💔

The most important question, and he hasn't come to a conclusion yet :) I wonder what his answer will be once he stops hiding from it!

Hhhh this has been a really fun AU to write for, I'm glad that I finally put it to words since it had been rolling around in my head since early 2021 - there are so many fun and insidious things to explore! Especially on Scriabin's side, though I still think it's the most fun to be stuck behind Edgar's eyes, an aware audience knowing what Scriabin is up to while Edgar doesn't hehe ♪ Hopefully I'll have some time to return to it after a bit! :D

[giddlygoat]

good news everyone…. i have a bed frame now 🫶

i still need to decorate the walls and do some more organizing, but !!!! this is my favorite bed frame out of my grandpa’s house, and i’m so happy to have it!

[erradox]

A Radical Peace Offering, revenge for @chromatite

I figured out new techniques while drawing this one!