#kingdom hearts au

More alternate canon designs! With new names even!

First is the one who will be called Demyx as Edym (eh-DEEM) who is definitely NOT a runaway prince on his world…

Second is L’Drou (luh-DROW) who was welcomed among the Gypsies in la Cite de Cloches. Care to get a Tarot rating?

Doing expression chart drawings and working them into scenes.

Birth By Sleep canon AU. Ventus definitely DID NOT let out the Flood specimens Even was studying. Nope.

Ven: “They’re so cute! They don’t deserve to be all cooped up like that!”

Pairing: Keith/Lance

Words: 1191

Chapters: 1/1

“Please, Keith. Where is your heart?”

He doesn’t respond- doesn’t know how. But that doesn’t stop him from reaching that point of enlightenment. For it stares him straight in the face. The light… it holds a heart- his heart. Stolen from him, right out of his chest.

He wants it back.

Notes: Here it is! My @klance-exchange gift for @ssuppositiouss! One of your prompt ideas was to “place them [klance] in the universe of another story (but not a crossover)” and, well, when I saw your tumblr theme, I just couldn’t resist! Kingdom Hearts is one of my favorite games and I thrive on angst, so voila!

Read it on AO3

Darkness. From it, entire worlds are born.

It is a universal truth. A standard in which all of creation adheres to, strumming to the same beat across each plane of existence. And what an existence it is. A sudden rush, like an undertow of primitive feeling, and then, suddenly, he is there.

Entity is a shocking thing, abrupt and unstable. Everlasting in its newness, but limiting in its physical constrictions. For a mind is nothing without a body and his is unresponsive, refusing to listen to the intrinsic feelings and desires that run their course. But it is there nonetheless, a solid mass that floats within weightless waters, bobbing, up and down. A sea made of wispy smoke and concentrated ash, filling his lungs with failed dreams and forgotten promises alike- aiming to drown, dissolve, and devour.

But he fights the pull. He is stronger, stronger than those hiding in the tide of shadows that swarms around him, and he wins. The dark sea jerks away from his transcendental touch, shivering at the power that hides within him; he presses further and they bow in submission, an army at his disposal.

It’s amidst this exhibit of force that he spots it.

A light.

A light that shines through the darkness, a beacon to his brief existence. With it comes the notion of warmth, a bonfire within a storm that he hadn’t realized he’d been braving. His form trembles at the conceived loss and he automatically makes a move to reach for that unknown paradise, but only earns a small twitch of his fingers for his effort. For all his strength, the dark waters still sway him, lulling him into something catatonic with hoarse whispers and tainted lullabies.

The compulsion to grab hold of that light and never let go is severe. To latch on, dig into his claws into its soft flesh and and squeeze until that intoxicating warmth bleeds into him. To make it his and his alone. No, he decides then and there, it must be his. No one else craved for it the way he did.

As if sensing his lurking desire, the light trembles, pulsing erratically. Every beat has him viciously clawing at the barrier of his conscious, begging for a taste.

“Keith?” the light says. “Is that you, buddy?”

Oh, what a sound. He has never heard such a thing like it. A song of the cosmos, beautiful and holy. He rocks onto the back of his heels, sucking in a hiss, overwhelmed.

“Pidge, isn’t there, I don’t know, some spell you can do to fix this?”

“Hey, I may be the Royal Magician, but even I can’t bring someone back from the darkness.” The owner of these words is smaller, thus weaker, than the rest. In their grasp lays a lengthy weapon of sorts, something that sparks dangerously when even stranger words are uttered.

The sea behind him grows nervous at the show of magic. They convulse, rolling over one another and whispering threats of attack, like a wave set to crash along the world’s shore, mighty and explosive.

Paranoia rushes through him. If the swarm strikes, then what happens to his light? Does it stand and fight? A show of razored teeth and sharp fins. Does it run? Like the sun setting behind a watery horizon. Does it disappear? Gone in a moment like ocean spray.

No. Not his light; he wouldn’t let that happen. His mouth opens and a sound comes out, all broken glass and wounded animal, warding off those who wish to take his light- his prize.

“The Heartless, they’re being held back…” His knuckles gently slide against the ground as he slumps forward even further. “Do you think… maybe… maybe Keith recognizes us?”

“He’s a Heartless, Lance. He doesn’t have any memories to recognize.”

“But,” the voice trembles and his head slips to one side, trying to decipher the sentiment behind the empyrean sounds. “But we can’t just leave him like this. I can’t just leave him like this.”

“Well, there isn’t much we can d- woah, hey! Lance, don’t!” The call is louder than anything he has heard before and he shrinks back, tensing in preparation for an attack; the swarm shifts restlessly, held in check only by his primordial interest. But the light doesn’t seem bothered by the warning, instead creeping forward- closer and closer and ever closer.

“Keith,” comes the voice, high and melodic and a hair’s breadth away, and when he looks up to finally glimpse the body that goes with it, something stirs within him. For another sea surges to greets him, this one vastly different from the abyss he’s birthed from; a surf of stars swirl in twin crystal balls, colored blue- so very, unapologetically blue- and holding the world in their depth, capturing him within their celestial gaze. “Keith, buddy, can you hear me?”

But he is lost among the undertow, never to return.

The figure kneels and now he can see how it shines from within, pulsing with divine light and begging to be corrupted by his wicked touch. “We’ll figure this out, okay? Don’t you worry- we’ll get you back to normal somehow. We’ll get your heart back, wherever it is.”

Heart? What is…?

“Keith, if you can hear me, please, tell me… Where’s your heart?“

A tanned limb rises and braces against its chest, where the warmth and brightness was the most intense. He tries to mimic the motion, wanting to make that connection, but can’t. His fingers brush against only air, nails tracing the edge of the hole making its home at his center.

"Please, Keith. Where is your heart?”

He doesn’t respond- doesn’t know how. But that doesn’t stop him from reaching that point of enlightenment. For it stares him straight in the face. The light… it holds a heart- his heart. Stolen from him, right out of his chest.

He wants it back.

The air changes, full and electrifying. A storm brews and spills over, surging into his limbs and helping him stand to his full height. The light watches him, mouth open and eyes wide, that beautiful voice rising in a gasp that curls in the empty space where his heart used to be. The two figures behind the light tense and make to rush forward, but the swarm of shadows rise from the earth to block their path.

His hand comes up to point toward the light accusingly.

“Keith? What are you- hey, no, stop.” The light flickers in fear. “I know you’re in there. Snap out of it.”

But he doesn’t listen.

And only when he finally takes back his heart, amidst writhing shadows and dead stares, with the light dimmed and a bruised body pressed firmly against his own, motionless, does he realize the truth. That though darkness may mother creation, it does not sustain it. For all he has left- a heart, broken and ravaged- he is still hungry.