* ᴵ'ᴹ 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝑦𝑜𝑢,

𝙰𝙽 𝚄𝙽𝙱𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙺𝙰𝙱𝙻𝙴 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙴𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽.

[spellwaever]

#SPELLWAEVER. PRIVATE MASTER AQUA OF KINGDOM HEARTS.  ESTABLISHED DECEMBER OF 2022.  REVAMPED MARCH OF 2024. HEAVYILY AFFILIATED WITH UNEARTHER AND LORDXEMNAS. READ RULES PRIOR TO INTERACTION.

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[spellwaever]

i think aqua was an expressive child. see: making a young terra learn ballet dances with her. (AND perform them thank YOU) singing too loudly in her room. lots of drawings too.

[unearther-a]

𝐌. | i can stay awake all night, if need be. / @spellwaever.

when he awoke — and how suddenly he woke, violent and throbbing, as if the beast's claws had sunk inside him once more, and began ripping through muscle and sinew, cleaving him open to nest inside — he was met, grimly, with the yellow-eyed looking-glass loitering just beyond his peripheral. there it stood, fanged and sneering, and though the phantasm dissolved before he could blink the sleep from his eyes, terra felt its leer dig beneath his flesh, and the pain lingered, like a fever so strong it eats at what it's designed to protect. (he was that fever. he gorged and coveted, eating and eating and sickly-sweet, like an infection.)

he finds (or, he stumbles, rather; to imply that he did this intentionally is to imply that he is of his body again, but he feels just as strung, just as numb; the force that pulls him is what always has; time grows concave around him, and bursts like magma from the deepest pit of the earth beneath his feet, and he is the fever again, and gorging, and eating) his knuckles hitting the hide of black leather, reverberating across the empty, cold gymnasium. violence, at least, can be useful. it brought him out and struck down the sneering beast but he's haunted, again, by his looking-glass, yellow-eyed and sneering — filled with the hum of madness and wrath —

he tried not to wake her. he thinks he didn't, anyway, but he's not as gentle as he used to be, and he knows he never will be again. his knuckles hit the hide of leather and with each burst he reaches through time and sees what was, yellow-eyed and sneering, whispering the gnarled secrets of war — he tried not to wake her. his fist slams. shockwaves shudder like the fall of droplets meeting a pooled filth below. he's not as gentle. he tried not to hurt her.

but despite it all, her voice — an anchor — his hand withdraws, and the tape over his hand blooms in red, as precise as roses, sullying him, and he isn't surprised that he didn't feel a thing. his head twists, and he sees her — terra turns, not just because he wishes to address her completely, but because he could swear he saw that beast, yellow-eyed and sneering, just beyond his peripheral... he tried not to wake her. he tried. if she understands anything, let it be that he tried. he hesitates to speak, and what feels like moments for her is an infinity for him. ❝ aqua — no, it's... ❞ his voice trails off, peering towards the sullied bandages on his hands, callouses split and festering, and he isn't surprised that he didn't feel a thing. ❝ i should have been quieter getting out of bed. ❞

[spellwaever]

they covered all the mirrors when they returned to the castle. it was easier to say it was for terra's mind — or perhaps even to avoid laying eyes upon the state she'd been left in from the years of isolation. but really, it was her, too. her own looking glass, the reflection which doesn't mimic her motions entirely precisely, yellow-eyed and —- flesh reaches for the displaced curtain before a claw has a chance to shatter the glass. her chest feels tight with apprehension until every inch of the bedroom mirror disappears. like a child, she thinks, covering their head from the blanket.

how many times did she call for him, nestled beneath dust covered blankets and shivering from the cold? how many times has she awoken to his name on dry, dehydrated lips? this night is no different. perhaps it was his movement that woke her, but more than likely, it was his absence that did so. sleep was quickly scrubbed from her mind the moment her eyes landed upon the exposed mirror. it was easier to pull herself from bed, then.

it's easy now to walk through the slumbering halls of the castle... or perhaps that isn't the correct thought. rather, she's carried through the halls, still expecting this all to be an illusion of the dark realm. just one wrong move, and she'll be ripped from this dream and flung back into the cold grip of the realm's abyss. so dark, so deep, that not even her light could survive in. —- again.

but she finds him, and she wanders no longer; no longer aimless. no longer light-less. she follows, perhaps on instinct, the sound of strong hands hitting leather. even lost, he continues to guide her. her hands raise, signing clumsily along with words that sound far too awake for this hour.

❝ you didn't do anything wrong. ❞ calloused and cut fingers then reach for his as they blossom with a fine ruby red. a small burst of green spills from her fingerstips and drips onto his hand. heal. his restlessness feels just as tangible as her own. anticipation catches in her throat. ❝ hey, terra... would you like to see the stars with me? ❞ —- again?

[separatethingy]

They need like a 4 hour hug sesh