Notes:This was actually the first one I wrote because I loved the idea so much haha Its also extremely sappy but whatever, that’s my specialty lmao I just want these cinnamon buns to be happy okay
Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy
Aqua hummed as she stirred the thick cookie batter in the bowl she had hoisted up on her arm. It was getting nice and heavy which meant it would be ready to get rolled and baked soon. The chocolate chip cookies would go in after the sugar cookies were done which she’d then put in the fridge so they could cool and she’d cook the peppermint chocolate cookies while she frosted the sugar cookies. Then she’d make those dark chocolate ones for Terra that he liked so much.
She placed the bowl on the counter, licking one of her fingers that got some batter on it. She had to give a sigh of pleasure just at the taste. There was something about having cookie dough at three in the morning that just made it taste better.
“Baking sheet,” she said to herself while she glanced over the counter in her kitchen. There was sugar, all her flavorings, baking soda, chocolate chips, the crushed candy canes, utensils, and a whole lot of spilled flour all over the counter, one that was clean before she came in here. Aqua bit down on her lip, her nerves starting to pull at her stomach again but she shook her head. She’d deal with all that later it was fine.
“Baking sheet!” She saw it poking out from under the dirty bowl she used for the sugar cookies. Oh, they were starting to smell good too. It was that sweet sugary smell mixed with that warm cookie smell. It was gonna be hard not to eat them when they came out. Aqua had a lot of family to feed though so she couldn’t quite cave into those desires.
She started to roll the chocolate chip cookie dough in her hands (also having a hard time resisting eating that), to place the little batter balls on the baking sheet. The Christmas tree lights shined in the living room in front of her, giving off that holiday glow that only made her want to keep baking. It was her favorite holiday of the year and she’d make sure everything went smoothly like it always did. No surprises, nothing unexpected just cookies, family, gifts, and the holidays.
The cookie batter she had been rolling fell straight onto the floor.
Notes:This one wasn’t always gonna be what it became haha but I really do like how it came out considering even happiness and bright futures can’t always erase our deepest fears. Plus they’re both hella stubborn you know they’d still bicker, it would just end a little better now lmao
They were supposed to be reading while Master was out for a quick call but the sun was shining through the windows of the library and all Terra wanted to do was go play outside for a while. He groaned and looked back down at the book laid out on the table in front of him. It was some boring book about history and while it was nice it had pictures to look at, he still had to read it and he just really didn’t wanna.
Terra turned his head to see if Aqua was doing what she was told, which of course she was. What else was new? She was sitting in the bench by the window, her legs pulled up to her chest as she propped her book in front of them, her stuffed cat held firmly under her arm.
“Why did you drag that all the way here?” he asked.
She didn’t look up from her book. “What?”
“The cat, why did you bring it all the way here?” Terra gestured to the stuffed animal.
That time Aqua did look up. “Dunno, I just wanted her here.”
Terra arched an eyebrow. “Aren’t you a little old to carry a stuffed animal around?” Okay, well, maybe not, she was seven but still, he didn’t even have any stuffed animals anymore.
“No,” she said firmly, though a little defensively. “I don’t think so.”
For the longest time I wanted to redraw one of my very first drawings. And here is the result!
Do let me know what you think! ^^
I decided to call this series “Cosplay Wardrobe”. I make polls and take suggestions from patreons to see what will be the theme of the next piece. Games, films, cartoons, anime and so on! Join now if you wish to vote and/or summit your own suggestions! =3
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts: Birth by Sleep (canon-divergence, time loop AU) Pairings: Terra/Aqua, Aqua & Terra & Ventus Rating: T Word count: 27325 Chapters: 2/2 complete
Summary: The dark and the quiet is almost serene, but Aqua knows it will not be long before she plunges into the icy cold of the realm of darkness, and all peace will be lost forever.
And then she collides with her bed, in her room in the Land of Departure.
A/N: Happy Terraqua Day!!! It’s so insane - this is my fourth (smutty) contribution, and it feels like I turned in last year’s just a couple of months ago. I don’t know where that time went but I want to thank everyone for sticking around with me. I was actually touch-starved myself - hubby and I were separated for a year during lockdown, and that was brutal and devastating and left me feeling hopeless. Very much like how Aqua was stuck in the RoD. I’m so glad for better days.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
She wakes up with his hand further up her back. It’s dragged her shirt up, which is already tussled from movement during sleep. Her stomach is exposed, her shoulder blades bare without a bra. This is fine, this is needed, a solid drink of real water. She imagines brushing his hair off his forehead. She imagines pressing her lips to his. She imagines his response, pushing her knee aside to let him in. But Aqua waits.
Terra is groggy when he opens his eyes. Good morning, they say. He sighs contentedly, deep into the thicket as his fingers trace circles on her skin.
He isn’t aware of what he’s doing until he really wakes up and realizes what he’s touching.
“Um.” He clears his throat and sits up (why does he stop?). He chooses to stare at the fireplace, now ashen and still. “Thank you.”
“For what?” Heat rises to her cheeks and spreads down her chest. Aqua pulls her shirt down.
He inhales and scratches the back of his head. “For listening to me.”
“You don’t have to thank me for that.”
It wasn’t like he ever had to ask. They spent how many years together? At least ten. Those came attached to some unspoken contract, signed with shared secrets and blood oaths. Since when does time make them strangers?
He isn’t, he could never be.
Terra implants a smile. “Right.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The morning passes and Aqua will think of his hand up the center of her back every fifteen minutes.
Sheshould be focusing on braiding her life back to a sense of normalcy: spar, study, spar, study. Train—the act of conditioning the body and mind, the practice of aligning magic with the heart, then off to the library to study some more… She’s a Master now, and that comes with new responsibilities. She’s going to have to go through Eraqus’s records and see where he left off. There will be other worlds needing her help. There will be new Keyblade wielders to find. There will be reorganizing the Land of Departure, designing syllabi, rearranging desks into classrooms.
“What I need is a sparring partner.”
“Did you say something?” asks Ven, his mouth full of breakfast.
Aqua whips over her shoulder and keeps her back to him. She opens the kitchen sink all the way and lets the water overpower her voice. “Nothing.”
Ven barely hears her.
She finds her partner in the very same throne room where they took their Mark of Mastery. Terra is practicing his forms and posture—which may seem inefficient, being their very first lesson, but it’s the easiest to lose at the very first break of repetition.
Aqua announces her arrival through the summon of her Keyblade.
Terra acknowledges her with a side-nod. Let’s do it.
Aqua’s entire technique and style of fighting has developed because of Terra. So much larger, Terra is devastating at close range, with his long arms and longer Keyblade, a force so powerful that she could easily be pummeled if caught within his range. She has learned to dodge, learned to depend on her flips and cartwheels, learned to rely on magic instead of coming at him with brute force. He has satiated her desire to dance by giving her the need.
Likewise, Terra has to remember to keep himself stable and steady, not to be thrown so far by his heavy Keyblade and trip from the center of his own gravity. He has to remember to react quicker than he’s comfortable with, what with the way she prances around him in circles, over and above, when she slides under his strike and comes up behind him. She teaches him to play dirtier, to anticipate tricky movements. Terra wants to be stronger; Aqua makes him so.
This way, they have always fit together.
Twelve years apart and they’re out of tune. Aqua slashes his bicep. He hisses.
Aqua gasps. “I’m sorry!”
“Don’t worry about it.” He doesn’t bother to heal the gash and rams into her. Ends of the Earth’s massive girth locked into Stormfall’s elegance, his forehead near hers, his hot breath on her lips. If she bucks, she could let his weight pin her down.
He’d hate the free pass.
Aquatsks. “I know this trick.”
She summons a Barrier—not around her, but into her Keyblade, giving her the extra oomph to push him off of her. She jumps. Strikes down. Disarms him. Ends of the Earth shatters into stars when it’s dismissed.
“That was good,” Terra says, exhausted. He cups his wound and heals it before Aqua gets a chance to.
“I’m out of shape.”
Terra scoffs. “And I have a third arm.” He leans on his knees to take a huge breath. “Speaking of tricks, do you want to see something new?”
Without his Keyblade, Aqua has a hard time picturing what it could be. She almost suspects a prank. “Show me.”
Terra exposes his forearm, and with a finger traces a line down the middle, from wrist to elbow. Puffs of small flames track his skin, like a lighter marking a path.
“Terra!”
“It doesn’t hurt.” He sighs, amused and pleased.
She plants her palm on him to heal, but all she feels is warmth, as though he’s been in the sun. Not injury or pain or strain. “What is this?”
“It’s like blowing air.” He taps his arm. Each smack sparks a timid flame. The lighter doesn’t ever stay on. “You cast the spell like you’re whispering. And it—” He snorts, lowering his gaze to the floor. “It feels good.”
Aqua believes him. But the invitation to reply and receive lingers. “It does?”
“I’ll show you,” he says, taking her by the wrist and pushing her sleeve up.
With his index finger, Terra skates it down the fleshy part of her forearm, leaving a tail of faint flames. Bubbles of warmth with the slightest bite. Aqua feels it elsewhere, in the gooseflesh shooting up her arm and pooling all over her neck and chest, in the fire boiling in her belly, the embers between her thighs. She shudders.
“See?”
Aqua sees, but has lost her voice.
And Terra tenses. He almost asks.
Again, she almost says.
This time, he retraces her with a gentle hold, leading with his thumb. He’s more hesitant which makes him slower, and he lingers on her wrist where he bends the hem of her glove. “How does that feel?” he asks, softly enough for her to barely hear, a wisp of a whisper.
Aqua chokes. She nods.
Terra squeezes his eyes before he squeezes her hand.
“About last night,” he says at normal volume, jarringly changing the subject, “I mean, this morning—what I meant to say was—” He shrugs his shoulder like a tick. “I wanted you to hear that I’m glad you came out of it okay. More than okay. You survived, and I should have—” He swallows. “I should have.” Like it’s a statement of fact. I should have. I should have anything, whatever means necessary.
Aqua smiles. It’s all she has to offer him, when words of comfort do little. “You’re going to have to find new ways to apologize.”
It’s meant to be a joke, a bad one, but Terra’s eyes read hers hard.
He brings her knuckles to his lips. Where they touch leaves a mark that burns deeper.
And if that isn’t enough, Terra pulls off her fingerless gloves with the trembling that comes with crying, with the reverence of cupping a newborn bird. He bows, and kisses the back of her hand. So much to say without a sentence.
“Am I seeing what I think I’m seeing?”
Ven’s voice, stupefied.
Terra grips her hand—not out of care, but of shock and frustration. He snaps his fingers and out bursts a flame.
Ven dispels it with a wave of wind. He cackles and leans on the wall behind him, mocking a faint. “Your knight in shining armor, Aqua?”
“Your executioner,” Terra spits.
“I’ll kick you in the balls before you try and hurt a hair on my innocent head.”
“Why are you here?”
“Ilivehere?”
“Sneaking around like a roach.”
“You’re the one with your tongue on her.” Ven points.
Terra chokes, his lips pressed into a steely line. No tongue was involved. He lets go of Aqua. “I’ll be outside.”
Ven watches him descend over the foyer balcony. “I guess he has sensitive balls.”
“Let off of him,” Aqua says, crossing her arms. She digs her hand into her elbow. His warmth remains, it thrums.
“Is that what the princess trulydesires?”
“Ven—” she warns.
He gets down on one knee and takes her bare hand. “Just say the word and I’ll make sure Terra will grant every one of your wishes.”
It’s cooling. Her inner thighs are screaming. Aqua snatches her hand back. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“And you’re red as a beet.” Ven collapses to the floor, exhausting every laugh left in him before he reads her face. “Was it really that upsetting?” Ven changes. The light in his eyes darken in a snap as final as the flip of a switch for the rest of the night. He frowns, and he looks like Vanitas—lost, distant, morose. It’s an expression Ven never wore before the Mark of Mastery. “I’m sorry.”
Aqua rests her wrists on the handrail. She cups the back of her hand but it does little to keep anything. “He cries often. It’s hard on him.”
“Maybe in front of you,” Ven says, softly and respectfully and matter-of-factly, like he knows something she doesn’t. He slips his legs between the balusters.
“Did he say something?”
Ven grimaces—ah, it was the wrong thing to ask. It’s not easy being in the middle of the two of them, choosing between betraying Terra’s confidence and not lying to Aqua. So Ven dodges the question.
“He smiles more since he’s been back.” He looks up at her, surprised by her expression. “Didn’t you notice?”
Aqua thinks. Terra smiles when he rediscovers: discarded books he left behind, the re-taste of dishes he missed dearly. He smiles especially when he wakes up in the morning.
Aqua’s throat clutches.
“And you smile way less,” Ven continues, his voice soft. “Nothing is where it’s supposed to be.”
Which surprises her—she’s so happy, she’s happy she’s back. How is that even possible?
Then again, when she needs someone to talk to, she simply… speaks. Would that be considered a habit: to be so excited to talk to your friends that you forget the first step in finding them?
Who is she even asking?
“I didn’t realize…I thought I was…” she trails off.
“It happens when you seem like you’re about to say something.” Ven gazes up at the stained glass, his eyes following the scallops and knots. He looks like he’s eleven years old all over again. “You stop yourself every time.”
“I’m sorry, too.” Aqua brushes her fingers through Ven’s hair. “I know you were trying to make us laugh.”
“I should’ve realized I hit a nerve.” He smirks, and he looks how is supposed to be: an equal mix of sincere and mischievous. Her Ven. “I’ll apologize to him when you guys are done.”
“Done with what?”
Ven stands up and walks away before reading her reaction. “Playing with your hormones or something.”
“Ven.”
He raises a finger to make a point. “Please don’t run around naked in the castle. I can’t take any more trauma.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“I don’t know how to ask.”
She shuts her bedroom door behind her, glancing at her reflection in the vanity mirror. Hair well-brushed, clothes only slightly disheveled from sparring, barely a scar on her, except for the nick on the shoulder from the time Terra jabbed a wooden sword when he wasn’t supposed to. It’s as if the Realm of Darkness never happened, a fractured figment of her imagination, a fermented nightmare that won’t leave her alone, that anyone could chalk it up to her making it up.
You smile less.
She’s not smiling now, despite that she is finally rewarded with real peace and quiet… but isn’t that a little overrated once it all settles down? The eruptive stillness of the night and thoughts for company. Maybe she doesn’t have even that: the Realm is still taking, taking, taking, little leaks of sanity here and there.
She’s not saying the right things.
She’s not realizing the right things.
The Realm gets its last laugh, as if to ask, What do you think? Nice job, wouldn’t you say?
Aqua won’t answer.
“I don’t know how to ask him,” she says instead, as if the Realm would reply. After all, it left prayers to hang.
She sits at the edge of her bed, and bends over her lap. Aqua presses her thumb to the middle of her bare palm. Tiny snowflakes litter her skin but only for half a fraction of a moment before they melt, as though she’s stuck her hand outside the window to catch a mild winter storm. The icy chill ignites her gooseflesh up to the crown of her head. Terra is right.
“I’m being selfish,” she says, as if that explains it all away.
Aqua leaves her room and heads to Eraqus’s study. She has work to do, journals to interpret, maps to read. And she can’t. The Realm is with her, her old Master is with her, overlooking her shoulder as she copies coordinates from maps, knowing full well she’s still keeping snow in the fist of her other hand.
“I am not procrastinating,” she proclaims when she gathers a hammer and nails from the storage room, and marches to the hall where the portrait of Master Odin leans.
She does not look at the good Master in the eye when she takes him down and removes the nails. She slips, leaving a gash. She’ll have to cover it up.
“I’m not in denial.”
Aqua re-levels the measurement, making sure it’s parallel to the ceiling (who did such an awful job beforehand?) and hammers in unused nails that aren’t bent or caked in plaster. An inch above the old. Bangs pop into her ears, explosions, hurtling tremors through her skull. She’s a good student, a good person, well-behaved, strong, brave, invincible so long as she hopes. So why is she so afraid to move?
“Who am I talking to?” she asks softly when she hangs the painting back in its place. Perfectly leveled, perfectly done. But Master Odin has no answers.
“Where is he?”
Outside.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Outside, where he is spinning furious uppercuts, suspending practice rings in the air. Sparks crack at contact, and he yells with each hit, for as long as his tired body can keep up. And he is tired, leaning on his Keyblade when he’s done. The rings jerk from their chains and crash into each other before they’re coaxed into a sway. He’s coaxed into breathing normally.
“I keep letting it take from me,” Aqua says, and Terra turns to her. He’s sweating through his shirt. It clings to his skin and defines everything he’s worked hard for.
“What’s wrong?” He’s worried.
“The Realm.”
He runs to her and stops—why does he stop—to look her over for injuries or maybe even signs of distress. He won’t find anything new, none that aren’t from his own miscalculations and other misadventures. “Are you okay?”
Aqua is as quiet as the siren blaring between them. She holds her arm in an unfinished attempt at hugging herself. She’s okay, she decides.
“Touch me.”
His eyes widen, his jaw tensing with something Aqua hopes isn’t a protest. But he looks at her lips, and he starts there, gliding his thumb across, to her cheek, letting it hover near the border to her neck, when he stops—
Aqua is shuddering. She closes her eyes and lifts her chin. Continue.
And he does, guiding his fingers down to her collarbone. The other hand hangs by his side; he doesn’t know what to do with it.
“It’s so hard not to.”
She takes that as an invitation. Her mouth on his, trying out notes of sweat and flesh and him. His lips soft and firm at the same time. Again, open to invite him in, his tongue brushing against hers. A third time, her hands on his unyielding chest, his calloused hands on her back, fingers slipping under her straps. She presses, closing the gap between their bodies with room for only sighs in between. Hold me, and he does. Taste me, and he does.
“Where?” he breathes.
“Anywhere you want.”
He whimpers. He finds contact in the back of her thighs, picks her up and takes her behind a tree, away from the sight of the castle. It happens fast. Hands over skin over clothes over the expanse of uncovered skin as they pull this and that and more off. His lips in the hollow between her breasts, her sigh on his forehead.
Terra is trembling. Aqua is straddling his thigh, brushing up against the arousal under his pants. They’re lost, they’re close, there’s no dam to stop them. Even when they try, when they slow down to pause and dare to inhale—
“What are we doing?” she whispers, half-expecting both of them to agree to a conclusion of how to label doing in the context of his body leaning on a tree with a hand on her breast. The other half never wanted to ask.
“Extracurriculars.”
She scoffs. I asked that out loud? “Excuse me?”
“Recreational activities are necessary for the healthy mind.” He blinks. “The Master said so.”
“Don’t bring the Master into this.”
“Good point.” He chuckles, and it’s breathless, and she wants to smack him and love him and laugh at the same time. His lips are swollen, eyes half-lidded but alive, and he reads her, her nose, her lips, the hair that he pushes off her forehead. He’s being deliberate, studying her. In the light, his eyes burn a deep chestnut. It’s easy to forget that they’re hiding behind a tree. “You’ve asked what we were doing. My answer is something I’ve wanted to do with you for a long time. I want to keep going.”
A kiss. Another. “Don’t hesitate.” She seizes his jaw and licks his tongue.
“Stars,” he curses, and tastes her neck.
Touch me, and he does, teasing the hem of her shorts, at the pelvic dip, a little lower than that, where it gets sensitive. Touch me, and he slips inside.
Aqua whimpers into the crux of his shoulder. To hold herself up, she leans forward onto her knees—but she crumbles. Terra braces her, watching her as he works her.
“Don’t let me go.” And he doesn’t. She rocks her hips and uses his shoulder as an anchor. “There. Don’t stop.” He doesn’t. He works.
Aqua threads her fingers into his hair. Her body is on fire. Terra isn’t using magic but everywhere he touches—deep inside, his grip on her ribcage, his elbow locking the sway of her back, his lips on her nipples—leaves her skin alight. Heat, heat, heat, another surge when he glides over her clit. Everything she processes shuts down except for the smell of yeast on his neck, the pressure of his finger, his hot, hoarse breaths on her neck. She tries to kiss him but she’s weak.
What little is left evaporates, fire rushing, imploding, roaring over her body. Nothing else exists. Nothing.
Terra is still holding her up when she comes to.
“How are you doing?” he asks softly.
She’s lost her voice.
Terra sucks on the finger he used on her. Shit. She finds his belt and pulls. Terra helps her, lifting his hips just enough to expose himself.
“Please,” he says.
Terra guides her, shows her how to move, how tightly to squeeze, how to let go, how to alternate. He keeps his other hand in her shorts, on her hip, on her ass.
It leaves his voice coarse.
“I touch myself when I think of you,” he growls to the space by her ear.
“Close your eyes.”
Aqua reduces her contact to just the tip of her finger, starting at the base of his shaft, gliding it up the underside to the tip. Puffs of flames, exactly how he showed her.
Terra moans, clasping her waist for something to keep him afloat. He straightens up and claws the bark of the tree.
Puffs of snow, down back to the base.
Terra grits his teeth, his hips thrusting to her delicate timing. Yes.
Hot, cold.
“Aqua,” he warns.
Hot, cold.
“Aqua—”
Terra grabs the tip of his shaft and releases himself into his hand. He doesn’t pacify until he shudders, his face contorted then soft.
Now, it’s quiet.
They lie there, her on half of his lap and him with an arm draped over her. This is a new kind of warmth—not embers, not flame, but the dry protection of a roof withstanding the storm, settled deep into her bones. He keeps her here, keeps her safe, keeps her sane enough to speak. Or not to. Either way, it’s going to be okay.
Aqua only registers birdsong and the trees rustling after several moments. Terra is still, as though he’s sleeping. Shadows of leaves roll over his chest and ripple over the scar above his heart, bending at the slope of muscle. When she tries to trace them, they dance outside of her lines.
“You’re all over him.”
Terra smiles onto her forehead. He doesn’t ask who she’s talking to. She’s grateful for that.
“Can I kiss you again?”
Aqua meets him, and breathes him in.
“Can I kiss you tomorrow?”
She reads his eyes. He’s sincere. “Why are you asking?”
Terra flinches and finds her fingers, lacing them with his. It’s hard for him to talk, his lips parting to allow a word and none come out.
When he finally speaks, his voice is cracked.
“Being with me is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
“Terra.”
“And you… I’ve wished and wished but never had the guts to wonder if it could happen.” He kisses her, robbing her of the chance to tell him: I love you, Terra. You know me best. How could you not see that? “Thank you.”
So they hold each other. Aqua will tell him at a better time, when he isn’t weeping, isn’t needing comfort in the crook of her neck. For now, she waits until he settles, brushing his hair off his sweaty cheeks.
Then, he snorts. “I have to get back at Ven.”
“I agree.”
“We should make him pancakes.”
“Deceptivepancakes?”
“Hot peppers. Cut them small enough, we could call them cherries.”
“Done.”
Terra smiles and he’s beautiful. Aqua has to feel him again—her body is blissfully sore and needing more, and Terra is thick and full, a massive weight under her. She’s here, she’s back.
He laughs into her lips. “I have to wash myself.”
Aqua looks down—he still has himself in a fist.
“I see.”
He kisses her before he stands up—well, before he kisses her again. It’s after the sixth when he finally stands.
“Ow.” Strips of bark peel off his back. “This wasn’t a very good idea, was it?”
“No complaints here.” Except for the scrape of dirt on her knees.
“You always get off easy.”
Her eyes light up. “Always?”
Terra smirks, and pinches his clothes between his ribcage and his elbow. “Sparring.”
“You’re a sore loser, and I don’t, but I say it’s similar.”
“Doesn’t that mean I’m dexterous, Master Aqua?”
Heat ignites her cheeks. Terra doesn’t point it out, and takes her with his free hand.
“Not that way,” Terra says, pulling her. He nods over to the castle, towards the northern windows. “If he’s there, he’ll catch us.”
Aqua giggles and clutches her clothes over her breasts. She lets him lead her deeper into the forest. Branches will scratch their arms and legs and leave them red. Rocks underneath the soft arches of their feet will leave them bloody and open.
The creek is frigid until Terra tempers it with a fire spell. Either way, the water tears into all of her open wounds.
And she laughs, legs wrapped around his waist, pinned between the gentle slope of the riverbank and the sharp edges of his hip bone. He says it all with everything he could give her without the need for words. But he forgets about his spell, and the water begins to boil. It hurts all over. Aqua laughs.
They’re here, half-submerged in water and caked with mud and buried in leaves. New and old. They’re back.
With hints of their dark selves always creeping through, two wayfinders uncover and investigate their power over one another. Written for Terraqua Day 2022.
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts (canon-verse) // Pairings: Terra+Aqua //Rating: M // Total word count: 13.8k
CW: dark thoughts about self-worth, possessive thoughts about loved ones, intense thoughts about sex and urges to be in control (by two people notoriously denied such things). And here in chapter three, there is: a) self-harm and recovery, plus b) some borderline-but-not-totally-explicit smut.
Happy Almost Terraqua Day! Writing for this ship has given me a lil community that I’m so grateful for.
Aaaaand because I don’t think I ever shared it on this site: here’s an old, short one-shot that celebrates Terraqua (both romantically & platonically) with some modular writing I was experimenting with.
Fic description: A nonlinear walk through the lives of Terra and Aqua: These wayfinders have been on each other’s minds for so long, they don’t know the memories from the dreams. Read it here.
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts (canon-verse) // Pairings: Terra+Aqua //Rating: T for tame // Word count: 1.8K
