confirmed bastards
Tag: / I LOVE IT
you know what if I can’t get a happy author, gimme sad author. gimme my sad bean who’s emotions influence his world too, so it’s just dreary and raining all the time and he’s jsut. so close to giving up hope to get edward back. gimme my sad baby SINCE I APPARENTLY WONT GET A HAPPY ENDING FOR A WHILE
Sacrifice AU (I think this is the AU you were asking for?)
Prompts are open!
—
Diamonds glimmer in the sunrise, unbeaten from the constant rain that had been falling for hours and hours, despite the cloudless sky above. Raindrops spatter the sea and the diamonds, and the roof of the lonely house by the sea.
Dark walks steady, the tray in his hand balanced perfectly. The food steams, a little cloud trailing behind. In his other hand, his fingers fidget, a length of pink ribbon coiling between them. He couldn’t remember where he had found it, but as he reaches the dining hall, that thought hastily leaves his mind.
Author sits at the head of the table, staring out one of the windows all around him. The rainstorm streaks the glass, and chills the room frigid. Dark silently sets the tray of food in front of him, turning to leave before Author can see him.
“Wait,” Author rasps. Dark stops dead in his tracks, turning around slowly.
“Yes?” He wants to say more, but he knows it’s only wise to just say ‘yes’. The sound of falling rain fills the room with a haunting, echoing sound.
Author just stares. Dark sees eyes flicker to where he’s is holding the pink ribbon in his hands, and quickly hides it behind his back.
“How much do you remember?” Dark blinks, brows furrowing. What an odd question…
“Remember of what?”
Author slams his hands down on the table just as lighting strikes outside. Dark breathes, slowly, as the air becomes electrified.
“Of before all this! Or did I really, really take all of it? Do- ha, you probably don’t even know why you’re carrying that little ribbon, do you? Wilford?!”
Dark opens his mouth to answer, but Author stands. Hail beats violently on the windows.
“Do you remember Edward, Dark? The little doctor you pushed around so much? Always called him weak, unimportant- even just in your mind. His pretty copper eyes… remember him, Celine? Damien? Anyone in there?”
His heart thuds rapidly in his chest, but his feet refused to move as Author got closer, so close Dark could smell the faintest wisp of wine on his breath. That did nothing to assist his confusion- Edward? Celine? Damien? Wilford? He racks his memory, going through what few thoughts remin inside his head, trying to match the names to anything but shadows.
His mouth is oddly dry as he answers.
“No. I’m sorry, sir, I don’t.”
“Not even Edward? I can’t be the only one who mourns him…” Dark could see tears glimmering in Author’s eyes, “I don’t want to be alone! I don’t want to be alone! Not again, never again! Tell me you remember him, tell me you mourn him as I do!”
With a loud cry, Author throws the tray of food against the table, lightning striking in the ocean outside. Water on the glass begins to boil as the room heats up, and even though Dark can vaguely feel his suit lighting on fire, he doesn’t move a muscle.
Instead, he watches. Author bangs his fists against the glass walls, like a caged animal. Screaming for a second chance, like he does in most of the tantrums he had. The fire spreads up Dark’s legs and back, the pink ribbon igniting. Why did he collect pink things? The room turned red as a rose as the glass reflected the spreading fire of Author’s rage, heavy rain washing away the fires outside.
A huge crash ripped the room around them, and chunks of the ceiling begin to fall down around them. The open, cloudless sky still pours down rain, but the lightning flickers out. No thunder can be heard. As per usual, it stops as soon as it starts.
Author is curled in on himself, and even from where Dark stands, he can hear the desperate, creaking sobs Author lets out with every breath.
“Take the fucking tray away, Dark,” he chokes out. Without another question, Dark walks forward and takes the tray, letting the falling rain extinguish the last of the fire on his suit.
Without another word, he leaves Author alone in the rain, crying for redemption, crying about sacrifice, crying for Edward, like someone was listening.
In the hallway, Dark looks at the pink ribbon, as if it was something more than what it was.
honestly kingdom hearts plays like a dnd game that got really outta hand
dm: im gonna let yall visit disney worlds in this homebrew.
player: can we use final fantasy too??
dm: i mean i guess?
player: I want to be goofy
dm: i mean, strange request but i guess i can homebrew up a race sheet for goofy. is he a dog? i mean-
other player: I WANT TO BE DONALD DUCK BUT LIKE, A WIZARD, AND NO PANTS
other 3 players: create serious rpg characters with linked backstories and shared motivations based on their home island
dm: what the fuck guys
dm: As Ansem in Riku’s body retreats Kairi lies before you. Her heart is still trapped though, your adventure must continue until you reach Kingdom Hearts and free all of the stolen hea-
player: I shove the heart releasing keyblade into my chest.dm: —wait. What?
player: I release my heart to heal Kairi. Our hearts are connected. I can do that. Right?
dm: If you unlock your heart you’ll turn into a heartless. Do you really want to do this?
player: if it heals Kairi? I have to. I plunge the keyblade into my chest.
dm: …alright. Your heart is peeled out of your body and you turn into a heartless…
dm: …
dm: …fuck… uh. That’s the end of tonight’s session. I’ll… ummm. we’ll continue next week after I work out how to fuck to deal with that decision.
A kiss of relief with… Author and Dr Ip? at Author’s place
Title: Wake Up
“Please wake up Author you need to wake up now Author wake up-”
The cabin door flew inward and smacked against the wall when Edward shoved it open, allowing him to drag in the Author along with a gust of frigid wind and a thick, swirling pile of snow.
But he didn’t have time to worry about that now. He had to get the Author inside. Out of the snow and the cold he’d found him in.
“Author, please.” Edward gritted his teeth, managed to heave his boyfriend up onto the threadbare couch.
The Author didn’t reply. His head merely lolled against the arm of the couch. His lips were blue and his skin was deathly pale and freezing cold. A thin line of blood trickled lazily from his nose and more blood caked the half-frozen wound on the back of his head.
“Author-” Edward tore off his mittens, fumbled for a pulse, but tears blurred his vision and his hands shook too violently for him to be able to detect it, if it was even there anymore. “Author, please be alive.”
He’d found him mostly buried in a snowbank on his way in to the cabin, unresponsive and slowly dying due to extreme cold.
Edward had somehow, despite the Author’s greater weight and the blizzard that raged around him, managed to get him back to the cabin.
But what if it was all futile? What if the Author was dead?
Suddenly he felt a tremor run through the Author’s body, heard him give a small groan and saw his eyelids flutter.
“Oh my god.” Edward leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead, choked back a sob of relief. “Author.”
He was alive. Half-frozen and wounded, but alive.
But he wouldn’t stay that way for long if Edward didn’t do something.
So, instead of burying his head in the Author’s frosty, sodden shirt and crying like he desperately wanted to, he got to work.
“I won’t loose you too.” -i want some more ghost up in here :’D
I uh, enjoyed this.
Tags: @authorsathenaeum @caffeine-eater @tiny-yan-an @darkstache-iplier @redraspberrycats @holyshitsnakesandspace @cookieface678 @blue-greenstylinson @bing-iplier @storm337 @sketchy-scribs-n-doods @pixelenchanter @itsjustkyss
Prompt 94: “I won’t lose you too.”
From an android’s perspective, the Host was to be admired.
He was always calm, always composed. He never let his emotions get in the way of what had to be done.
Until now.
Blue had never seen him act like this. Had never heard him speak above a mutter.
Until now, as he threw open the library door to find shelves tipped over and books scattered all over the floor.
And Dark, backing up, clutching one arm to his side, his nose bleeding.
He was yelling, his teeth bared, but his voice was drowned out by the rise and fall of the Host’s.
“Dark is going to kill them all. He is going to-” the Host’s voice ebbed and flowed, rose so high in pitch it made Blue’s head buzz and his vision waver. Still, he jolted into action, lunging for the Host.
“The Host senses- turns-” the Host swung around just as Blue reached him, the flow of his narrations wobbling as he raised the bat he had clutched in his clammy, white-knuckled grip. “He swings it and strikes-”
Blue held up his arms, bracing himself and closing his eyes, just as the bat arced down. But there was no heavy thunk of aluminum hitting metal. No sudden pain.
When he opened his eyes, the bat was less than an inch away from connecting. It trembled in the Host’s grip.
“Google Blue,” the Host croaked. Dark red blood carved heavy, jagged tracks down his face, criss-crossing over the thin, blue veins that stood out starkly from his almost translucent skin.
“Host.” Blue lowered his arms, then reached for the bat. It slid easily from the Host’s grip, and the Host made no movement to resist or protest when the android threw it aside.
He did, however, flinch when it clattered against the wood of some fallen shelf across the library.
“Google Blue,” he repeated, and Blue saw him sway unsteadily on his feet, knew he would fall before he did.
He was there to catch him as he crumpled into his arms and together they sank to the floor.
“You require medical treatment,” Blue glanced up, over the Host’s shoulder, at Dark. “You need to go see Dr. Iplier.”
Dark’s nostrils flared and his jaw clenched and for a second Blue thought he’d lash out, but after a moment he stiffened and nodded and disappeared in a swirl of black.
When he was gone, Blue moved to get the Host to his feet but the Host gave a small whine of protest, tightening his fingers around the fabric of Blue’s shirt.
“Blue stays.” It was barely audible, barely there after so much strenuous use. “The Host doesn’t want to lose him too.”
“Host-” Blue had no clue as to what he was talking about, but nonetheless he wrapped his arms around the Host, let him cling and mutter and bleed red all over the bright blue of his shirt.
Tried to offer what comfort he could.
Um, 72 with Celine!Dark Darkstache? Pwease? OwO
(Oooh good one!) Send me cute prompts!
“Do you think it’s possible that I… might be… pregnant?”
The question threw Wilford off completely. “What? Pregnant?” He asked, confused. “I didn’t think you could… I mean you’ve told me… You know the whole… being… dead thing…” His voice got quieter as he kept speaking.
Dark looked up at her partner and nodded. “I thought that too, Wil but…” She ran a hand over her stomach, which had gained a tiny, barely noticeable bulge. Aside from the small bump, Dark had also been getting sick more. “I think… I think it’s happened. I think I’m pregnant.”
Wilford’s face was a flurry of emotions, but ultimately it rested on quiet joy and serene excitement. He walked over and held Dark from behind. His hands trailed over her stomach, and he closed his eyes. It would be so nice to have a child with her. To be a dad, watch the little kiddo grow up…
“Does this mean you’ll have an increased sex drive?” He asked with mischievous grin.
Dark laughed, her laugh light and reminding Wil of twittering birds. “That never ceasing sexual appetite is what got us into this predicament in the first place!”
“I’ll take that as a thank you.” Wilford laughed and kissed her cheek. “A child…”
“Yes, a child…” She nodded. “Do you… are you okay with being a father?”
“More than okay.” He beamed. “I am so excited. I can’t wait to tell everyone!” And just like that he took off.
Dark, with a found shake of her head, smiled and followed the dolt, her dolt, out of the room, one hand tenderly resting on her stomach.
“This is probably a bad time, but marry me?” -BUT IMAGINE. AUTHOR AND IPLIER OKAY? and author changes into host and some day he brings the proposal up again
(tw blood, tw eye gore. i’ll put in the actual tags after this is posted) Send me fluffy prompts! (Although this one turned angsty)
“You have to hold on!” Dr. Edward Iplier told him, eyes focused as he tried to stop the bleeding. “Anthony please, hold on, okay? Just hold on!”
“I’m not dying,” The Author laughed, almost hysterically. “I swear to you that. I’m not dying. This had to happen. This always has to happen.”
“I don’t understand. I don’t understand, Anthony. Please, let me get you to my clinic, let me help you!” Dr. Iplier tried to hoist the man up to his feet, but the Author wouldn’t budge. He stayed laying on the floor of his cabin.
“Don’t wait your energy, Ed. Come on, just… just stay with me.” Blood poured from his eye sockets, down his face and staining his clothes. “Hey, hey hey hey. This is probably a bad time, but, uh, marry me?” He asked with a grin.
Dr. Iplier stared at the man, stared at the blood, and noticed a gold streak starting to stain a lock of his hair. He swallowed and nodded, before realizing the Author could no longer see him. “Of… of course, Anthony. You stay alive, and I’ll marry you.”
The Author’s smile turned warm, and he soon passed out, the blood loss getting to him. Dr. Iplier, with a heavy heart, lifted him up and got him to his clinic. He tended to the wounds, which never seemed to stop bleeding but did slow, and wrapped them in bandages.
It was months before Anthony and Edward were back to where they were before. Edward adjusted to the new Anthony, the one that wasn’t so rash, so bold. He was quiet, more reserved, the trauma having robbed him of his sight but given him a gift of narration. They were sitting together in the living room one day, sipping tea and coffee as they took in the rain pattering against the windows.
“I… I meant what I said.” Anthony said softly, sipping his tea.
“Mm?” Edward asked.
“I… I want to marry you, Edward. I love you. I know I’ve changed, and that I’m… I’m weird now… but…” He sighed. “I love you so much…”
Edward brought his coffee cup down from his lips slowly. “I… I love you too, Anthony.” He replied. “I think… Yeah, I think I want to marry you too.”
A bright smile adorned Anthony’s face. “Let’s set a date.”
Edward returned the smile with ease. “I’ll get my calendar.”




