#amaeranthos

[lionfanged]

ah thank goodness u always know how to give him such good enrichment kas-- @amaeranthos

KURA NO. @un1awful

[routesbond]

❝ ↪ @amaeranthos requested a starter !!

" They had brand new flavors that I wanted you to try! They're wasabi flavored fruit gummies! You think they're gonna burn our mouth if we eat a whole bag? "

He shows the bag of treats, even gives it a little bit of a playful wiggle. " I could always get someone else to try it for us. " Why was that someone going to be Yoshinari? Because he'd already decided. He'd probably find some reason for him to eat it. A laugh before he simply shrugs and inches closer.

" We could always try them mouth to mouth if you really want to. "

[pietys-arch]

@amaeranthos sent : he dips to press a gentle kiss to her forehead, hand slipping up beneath her licks of soft hair to rest at the bottom of her neck. "you come back to me," he whispers fiercely, "come back and kiss me one hundred times over." | fūruna.

it      sends      a      chill      down      her      spine,      how      war-worn      hands      delicately      met      light      incarnate.      her      heart      fluttered,      almost      painfully      so------------      &      it      leaves      her      with      a      longing      for      something      that      isn't      quite      in      her      grasp...      ❝      i      wouldn't      dream      of      anything      else,      ❞      her      voice      was      soft,      almost      over-turned      by      the      roar      of      the      fire.      digits      gently      trace      along      his      skin,      trying      to      memorize      every      inch      before      she      departs.      ❝      i      cannot------------      will      not      rest      until      i'm      home,      back      in      your      arms.      ❞      it's      spoken      like      a      reverent      vow,      earnest      &      true.      ❝      i      won't      be      gone      long..      ❞

[luneysia]

 ❛    Now, Winry, do you have anything nice to say to Ed?    ❜ Maes Hughes is tired of his two squabbling children. Winry, please.

❛ Of course I do. I have plenty of nice things to say to Ed. I just don't think that he'll be able to hear them from all the way down there. ❜ Why, yes, Winry has been avoiding meeting the tired, pleading eyes behind Maes' glasses this entire time. She knows the I'm not mad, just disappointed dad look, can feel it needling her stubborn will into submission. She bites her lip, peeks, and immediately regrets it. There it is, plain as day. The dad look. She hates it because she hates to disappoint him; she hates it because it works.

...Mostly.

❛ Okay, okay! I'll be the bigger person. ❜ Winry sighs and, deliberately, she leans down a little to meet the fuming alchemist's eye. ❛ I will admit that you've grown precisely 0.37 centimeters since your last automail measurement. ❜

[tidalcove]

@amaeranthos asked: EMMETT AND ROSALIE ( the original prompt was five times kiss; instead, it's five cars. there's a point here, trust me ).

        i. the 'she-devil' aka the 1948 ford super deluxe: rosalie's hands grip the steering wheel tight as she turns down the barely paved road, nearly skirting across dirt and pebbles as her freshly manicured foot dares to step further on the gas. her father, the real one, would only let her drive down the street of their neighborhood at most in his car to amuse her; always telling her that she needed to be safe and slow. she had hated it then. but now? she would give anything to be in the same room as him again. carlisle, the other father, had admittedly been more accommodating, even when he knew she drove out further than the safety of their home until finally giving his blessing for her to leave and not look back unless she wanted to. still, rosalie wasn't naive. she still played her part as a young, innocent black woman alone in the south and was smart about where she choose to joyride, choosing empty back streets that didn't get much traffic the deeper she got into the mountainous woods.

although the crimson red ford she had picked out for herself was hard not to notice, always drawing attention towards her whenever she pulled into town. it was the perfect fit for a devil's spawn.

as she continues her late night drive, rosalie suddenly feels her body tense - the knuckles of her fist growing red the more her bands bent the steering wheel. the car jerks to an abrupt halt due to her foot slamming on the brake, her honey eyes darting wildly across the road as every fiber of her being screams at her to turn away and don’t look back - to ignore the lingering scent she smells. rose sits there, frozen as the smell of fresh human blood burns at her nose and nearly drives her mad with hunger.

then it hits her. she hasn't eaten today.

carefully, the young woman pulls onto the side of the ride before shutting off the engine, its roar replaced by the sound of rustling tree leaves, owls, and various insects. rosalie steps into the cool, night air before slamming her car door shut, her nose crinkling at the outdoor smell as she closes her eyes, concentrating. it's hard filtering out all of the noise, her ears straining while she tries to focus on what she was looking for and - there! rasp breathing, a slowing heart beat...and a roar of a large beast. her head unnaturally whips to the right towards the sound and she's gone.

nothing good could be found in these mountains yet she races through them anyway, letting her senses guide her forward until she finally reaches what she seeks. it wasn’t unusual to stumble upon remnants of a camping trip gone wrong while out hunting; what was rare, however, was for the human to not only still be alive but have the attacker, large and monstrous, still looming over them. there's a part of rosalie that can’t help but be secretly annoyed that it just had to maul someone before it became dinner for her. she whistles harshly in order to redirect its attention and it works. the black bear rises on its hind legs once it spots her, bearing its fangs and letting out a threatening roar causing her to bear her own fangs in return.

the two beast circle each other in the camp clearing until the bear charges in her direction, nearly stomping over the dying man in the process.

rosalie can sense its strength but thankfully she’s much quicker, already leaping onto its back before it can even fully swipe a paw at her. the vampire's thighs wrap around its neck effortlessly, an audible 'SNAP' heard when she jerks her legs left with a hard twist. the bear slowly falls limp until it collapses onto the grass, leaving her panting from both the adrenaline and trying to resist the temptation that laid bleeding out a few feet away from her. her sharp nails dig into the bear's fur desperately and she needed to feed before she did something terrible - something she would regret. gradually her mouth begins to widen, the bones of her jaw stretching to an inhuman degree as she lowers herself to nearly cover its nape entirely.

the newborn's fangs glisten beautifully in the night and her bare, heaving shoulders shimmer like diamonds due to the moonlight illuminating the wrecked clearing. it was both serene and horrifying sight, the woman looking both ethereal and demonic with eyes crazed with hunger right as she was about to bite do-

❛ ....a-angel....? ’ 

rosalie's head snaps up as a single word breaks the silence of the night. her eyes meet the soft, brown eyes of the stranger who stares straight at her despite being on the very edge of death. her face is frozen, both in fear and confusion, while she watches cautiously as he continues to deliriously mumble to himself on the ground. a cry for his momma. then a desperate plea to a sibling he couldn't fully choke out the name of. all of this while staring at her for salvation. in a blink, she's kneeling closer to him - inspecting his face as the moon's light frames her head with a halo while she looks down at him.

❛ i...i can't help you. ’ 

her voice is quiet as she speaks to him, tender and sympathetic in its tone. he tries to speak but only chokes on his own blood, his unfocused eyes fluttering up at her like he knows her words are a lie. a small part of her wonders if she looked like this when carlisle had found her: frail and pathetic but also desperate and scared. had she begged for her life and then resented him for it? guilt itches at her throat at the thought or was it just the hunger? rose raises a hand to cover her nose, a futile attempt to stave off her own bloodlust while her mind struggles on what to do. was it better to kill him and end his suffering? or just leave him here and run away?

angel. why had he called her that? the word has her blinking back non-existent tears, the self-loathing she had for herself not subsiding for even a moment until she buries her sense of doubt. before she can change her mind, rosalie's already moving to lift the stranger onto her back and then she dashes her way south to georgia where she last knew the cullens to be. rosalie doesn’t know if he’ll want this life. a selfish part of her prays that he’ll never look at her with the spite and hatred that she had put upon carlislie on her worst days.

         ii. the 'lady' aka the 1957 porsche 356 speedster: it was a quiet sunday with half of the coven thankfully gone. esme was away at church and edward, ever the momma's boy, had decided to accompany her. rosalie still could never tell if the church going was an act for esme in order to help keep up the illusion of normalcy for the family or if the woman truly stilled believed. as for rosalie herself? she never dared stepped into a church since the day she had 'died', secretly afraid that she would burst into a ball of flame or be struck down on the spot even after being told that many of the religious myths around their kind was untrue. the point was proven by esme always returning home chipper and perfectly intact in her sunday best. the worst part was the annoying, stupid smirk edward would wear on his face, a clear sign that he knew about her secret, irrational fear. ugh.

alice and jasper were away for the weekend too - something about helping jasper with his 'cravings'. she mostly tuned it out when carlisle had explained it all, not really caring what the recent additions of their so-called family did with their time. that left only her, carlisle and...emmett. it was actually somewhat surprising that the latter was nowhere to be seen, he had an odd habit of following her around like a lost puppy on days like th- why am i even thinking about him?! rosalie snipes to herself, huffing and refocusing her attention on the 'mysteriously' broken fuel pump that was the current source of her frustration this morning. fucking edward.

❛ i swear, ms. hale. ’ a familiar southern drawl interrupts her violent thoughts towards her younger brother. speak of the devil. ❛ it's a beautiful day out and here you are under a hood of a car. ’

rosalie lifts her head from under the car hood to scowl at him, that warm, wide tooth grin of his instantly greeting her while his eyes twinkle like he's in on a joke she hasn't quite gotten yet. ❛ i reckon you like those cars more than us people. ’ he stretches out his hand, politely handing her the missing part she had spent all morning trying to find. she doesn't bother to press him on how he found this, simply crossing her arms as he walks away with a wave and boisterous laugh.

always one to have the last word, rosalie speaks her next words in a harsh, low whisper - but not low enough to escape the ear of another vampire. ❛ why wouldn't i? cars don't disappoint you - people do. ’ 

         iii. the 'stallion' aka the 1970 chevelle ss: her head is buzzing, her throat feels as if it’s on fire, and her ability to keep up this family facade had waned a long fucking time ago. while she’s busy fighting against her own trembling hands as she searches for her keys, edward calls after her ⎯ deliberately ignoring the string of expletives and insults she mentally throws his way in the process. he’s urging her to calm down, to get out of the car - to at least wait for carlisle to return home if she doesn’t want to talk to any of them. as he speaks, honey-colored eyes briefly glance up to see esme standing nervously by the front door in her rearview mirror. their so-called mom, typically so calm and composed, radiates worry and panic as edward continues to do most of the talking. rosalie knows how much the woman disliked hostility and strife; she knows exactly why she dislikes it ⎯ yet rosalie screamed at her all the same when esme tried to stop her from leaving. 

she would regret it later. she always did.

rosalie knows that somewhere, alice and jasper are also watching, listening, and she stubbornly resists whatever fucking weird bullshit jasper does to make people 'calm'. after multiple attempts, rose finally succeeds at shoving her car key into the ignition before shifting her chevelle ss into drive. she doesn’t look back as she slams on the gas and speeds away; she doesn’t know where she’s going, just determined to get away from this house - from this life she didn’t ask for - rather than reaching a specific destination. she drives for hours, days even, speeding through empty backroads until the car begins to finally crawl to a stop. she can only sit there alone, her hands tightening around the steering wheel while trying to keep herself from screaming. she doesn’t react when the passenger door opens hours later and another slides in; she had smelled him, as well as the canister of gas he was carrying, hours ago. they sit in silence before she finally decides to speak. ❛ i don’t need your help.’

rosalie wished she could’ve told carlisle those same words the night he had found her. maybe she wouldn't be frozen in this hell.

❛ i know you don’t.’  the voice responds easily, calmly - that southern drawl of his never wavering. she can see emmett looking out the window from the corner of her eye, a subtle grin growing on his face as if again, he's still in on some secret she hasn’t figured out yet. ❛ i wanted to help anyway.’

        iv. the 'savannah' aka the 1974 ford bronco: after seven decades of living, three therapists, and countless self-help books, rosalie hale was finally beginning to realize that she didn't like change. a fear of the unknown had sent her packing up a mismatch of clothes and booking a frantic flight to italy at the tail end of the 70s without a world to her family. it's where she would spend the next eight years, bouncing around from city to city while she added another degree to her already impressively long resume. during her travels rose eventually reached out to carlisle to at least let him know her current whereabouts; the concern for her was evident in his voice but he always stuck true to letting her make her own decisions no matter where it led. she didn't tell him she missed him when they talked.

in truth, she misses all of them and she stews in her loneliness about it for another year, thinking of all them during a late night in a french villa she had bought for herself a few months prior. she misses shopping and bickering over latest fashion trends with her sister. or talking for hours about anything and everything with her mother as they braided each others hair as well as quipping and sparring with her brothers. most of all, she missed him - even if he's exactly why she ran away.

fireworks shower the sky with a variety of colors, rose sighing wistfully as she tries to relax and enjoy the show. she can feel the heat of emmett's arm brushing against hers while they sat together on the hood of his car, a honey and cream ford bronco she had drove down to visit him in. she doesn't admit that it's a gift when she threw the keys into his hands or how the color instantly reminded her of his eyes when he was human. they sit and silence together before its broken, ❛ so while i've been traveling, i've been thinking.’

rosalie hums softly in acknowledgement but keeps her eyes on the beach, listening intently. everyone had their moment of leaving the 'nest' after they turned; emmett's had only taken longer than the rest of them. she visited from time to time, claiming that he kept annoying her about coming to see him when asked about it. it wasn't entirely the truth - but no one in the family ever pressed back on her words either. ❛ about what i want... about my feelings.’ he continues.

❛  and what's that? ’ rose hates how tight her throat feels when she responds, how she blinks back venom in her eyes and how her nails dig into the paint of the car with anxiety. her question is answered with silence until she flinches at his sudden touch on her cheek, snapping her neck towards him in surprise.

for most of the time she's known him, emmett's been an open book. you know what he feels just by looking at him. he was always the type to say what he meant. tonight's no different as he stares at her like he did all those years ago after he first woke up from his transformation: like she's heaven-sent. it terrified her then and it still terrifies her now.

❛  i...can't. i just...can't. ’ rosalie hates feeling weak - vulnerable. powerless. and there was nothing more powerless than another person holding her heart and shattering it. rose instinctively yanks herself away from him - but not missing the small flash of hurt across his face as she does so. before she can even process what she's doing, she's sliding off the car and running away as far away from him as possible...

the memory passes and rosalie finds herself still staring down at a notepad with various numbers neatly written in order - some of them crossed out once they became out of date. a therapist once suggested that she displayed avoidant tendencies - an observation she passionately rejected at the time...but was beginning to feel like had merit after another decade or two of self-reflection. she briefly glances up at herself in the mirror while she sits at her vanity, staring back at the girl still stuck in a moment, before rolling her eyes at herself and reaching for the phone receiver. anxiously, she dials one of the numbers and is nearly about to hang up in fear before it picks up on the second ring.

❛ hey rosalie. ’ rose can see the instant smile that blossoms across her face upon hearing his voice in the mirror and blushes. his accent has been slightly lost to time after all these years but she still enjoys the familiar twang that could be heard when he says her name.

❛ hi emmett. ’ she giggles back into the receiver, too happy to be peeved that alice the meddler probably hinted at her decision to call.

        v. the 'ace' aka the 1970 ford mustang boss 429: cars, like people, each have personality or 'traits’ to them. some are too noisy or unreliable under stress. she disliked those with overt flashiness and no ounce of substance. sturdiness and consistency was key but not if style was compromised for the sake of it - rosalie hale did not do bland. jasper would often tease her about it whenever they visited a dealership together; mostly because she typically left unsatisfied by their meager selection. rose didn’t consider herself 'picky’, she simply knew what she deserved: the absolute best. she wanted a car that had it all: efficiency, beauty, smooth control, and most importantly, power. so similar to what people often do, she waited patiently for the ‘one’...except it just so happened to be a car rather than a person.

the ‘one’ for her had been a ford mustang, a 1970 boss 429 model to be it exact. it was her favorite model but they were absolutely rare beauties, only five hundred of them made during their production year. few things in life could make her of all people do a double take but the first time her eyes laid upon one, rosalie knew she had to have it in her collection. an embarrassing amount of years had been spent trying to find one up for auction and there were times when she felt like giving up in her search...until now. after thirty years of patiently waiting, rosalie had finally found someone willing to sell via a small enthusiast board online she had joined at the end of the millennium.

the internet was still such a strange concept to her but she was growing more and more in love with it every day - although she could truly do without the dial-up sounds. after the full transfer of ownership, rosalie did a third thorough inspection of the car to see what upgrades and fixes it would need in the future. regardless of whether emmett actually cared about these types of cars or not, he was faithfully listening to her explain every detail: from the type of car the engine would need to be replaced with for racing to the glorious white vinyl that made up the car’s reupholstered interior.

 ❛ i wish to go for a ride. ’ rosalie states as she drops the keys for the newly bought boss in his hands. ❛ you drive. ’

rose rarely let anyone drive cars in her collection - especially a new addition. if surprised by the decision, emmett didn’t make a show out of it.

an excited, mischievous grin immediately washes over her face once the beautiful purr of the engine cranks up. emmett just rolls his eyes with a laugh before shifting the car into drive and turning out of the cullen's driveway. she fiddles with the radio for awhile before settling on a station she knows they both like, propping her arm against the window after so she can enjoy the full blast of the wind through her hair. minutes turn into hours as they ride together and rosalie finds herself reflecting on a random memory from her past.

when she was just on the cusp of womanhood, still innocent and wide-eyed about love and her dreams for herself, she remembers her mother sitting her down once. most of the conversation was lost to time due a young, impressionable girl who thought she knew everything drowning out wisdom from someone she took for granted. but she does remember something specific her mother said to her that day: remember that love is an action word rosie.

she had never really thought about it much after, just writing it off as her mother nagging her about the future and skipping off to go about her day. years later with royce, rosalie had thought love to be in the form of lavish gifts and being paraded around town like a trophy. she had learned in the cruelest way that it wasn't.

❛ emmett. ’ rosalie begins quietly, turning her head slightly to inspect him with a furrowed brow. he was sitting back casually while he steered with one hand, fingers drumming absentmindedly to the beat of whatever song was playing on the radio. he smelt like vanilla and bourbon, the colors of autumn complimenting the plaid shirt he wore today. he looked handsome - he always did. ❛ i think i love you. ’

she turns back to her window once the words are said, her cloudy eyes remaining focused on the passing scenery as she fights the urge to dry heave or do something else overly dramatic. emmett's patient, letting his silence speak for itself before she feels his right hand tenderly embrace her left, squeezing it softly in quiet understanding. more time passes before she finally feels okay enough to face him again....just to see that trademark grin on his face as his eyes remain on the road. ❛ c'mon rose, you're just now figuring that out? ’

[kitaishi]

❛ You had me worried. ❜ He's loathe to admit it—both because it makes him feel suffocatingly needy and because it implies a lack of faith in her—but it's true all the same. Cloud doesn't have to doubt her to worry. ❛ Did you really have to jump off the exploding train like that? Pretty sure I lost eight years of my life watching that stunt. ❜

      fuck. fuck. fuuuuuuck! they were barely into this mission and shit was already going wrong; the growing dread she had felt in the pit of her stomach rising and making her insides twist into knots. harsh red lights flickered across the train windows, shinra's secruity system on high alert and blaring in her ears as the trio runs from cart to cart - tifa apologizing, or at least trying to, when some passangers are nearly knocked over as they hurriedly try to avoid arrest. there's a strange, almost comedic, contradiction to how even in the middle of a bombing mission, tifa couldn't help but constantly put others before herself. she was apologizing for rudely inconveniencing someone's train ride home while she was on her way to commit an act that would more than just 'inconvenience' an entire subsection of the city.

the sound of glass breaking ahead refocuses her attention, cursing and shooting from barret make her and cloud hurry even more to catch up to him. they find the train door jammed due to shinra's security shutdown but cloud easily uses the large sword he was never without to pry the door open before an anxious tifa rushes past him. ❛ barret! ’ shinra sentinels surround her friend and tifa rushes forward to help turn shinra's weaponry back to junk - her boot colliding so hard with one of the security bots that sparks shoot out of it before it spirals back out of the train. ❛ what do we now?! ’ tifa shouts above the commotion, her gloves up in a defensive position while she tries to manage both looking for an exit and avoiding enemy fire. barret is too busy listening to someone over his phs to answer when suddenly all the electric doors of the train slide open - more than likely due to jesse's impressive skills with a computer helping them from afar.

 ❛ tifa! spike! this way, jesse says we don't got much time! ’ tifa knew what means: it was code for shinra was going to willing take out this cart if it meant taking them along with it. the beeping of the alarm system had only increased in frequency, an invisible timer for their deaths going down with each passing second. the AVALANCE leader partially hangs out of the speeding train before looking back and giving the two a single thumbs up. ❛ there's only one way we're getting the hell out of this train, follow me! ’

no... he cannot be serious about-

then barret jumps, confirming her thoughts as he disappears into the dark void of the speeding tunnel before tifa can even protest what the fuck he thinks he's doing. the monk runs towards the door, hesitating as she turns back to cloud with worry; they didn't have much time left and he was easily fighting off the remaining bots trying to slow them down. always trying to play the hero ( but who's protecting you cloud? ) without thinking, tifa turns back to the door and takes a leap of faith - curling into herself as she covers her face, her body hitting the steel rails hard while she rolls away from the speeding train. the woman doesn't move even once she's stopped - realizing she's not dead when she feels cloud's frantically shaking her up. she's sore as hell and barely registering his words when she blinks away the stars in her vision.

❛ i-i'm okay cloud. i've...been through worse. ’ tifa states with a small pause before she sighs, a warm blush covering her cheeks as adrenaline ( and something else she can't quite pinpoint ) rushes through her veins. she flicks her red eyes back up at him as she pushes herself onto her feet, her earlier doubts and worry now replaced by a sudden determination and excitement. ❛ c'mon, let's go find barret ! we've got a reactor to blow. ’

[shnya-a]

CUNTEN SERVEN?

OH MEIN GOTT ?!?!?!? KAS IST CUNTEN SERVEN ???????

[silencedglaive]

@amaeranthos​ sent: happy birthday forehead kiss from everyone's favourite papa!

happy birthday, hotaru!

        admittedly, it takes some restraint to not giggle as bangs tickle her forehead, pushed apart just enough for haruka to press their lips where the hair had once been. it isn’t enough to stifle her mirth. before they can straighten up, hotaru reaches out, wrapping her arms around them & pulling them close. because while haruka-papa does give the best forehead kisses, they also give the best hugs ! 

[sylvctica]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BB I HOPE ITS AMAZING LIKE U

SQUEAKIES YOU AND SENDS YOU MWAH MWAH THANK U... MAY UR OWN DAY BE GOOD

[rosewiltd-moved]

@amaeranthos​​ said : " i think it's time you and me had a little chat. " ( Edward ) | (  an old meme  /  not accepting !!  )

        𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄, in the reflection of her locker mirror, making her jump. The locker shut with a click. Corinne turned to face him. ❝  E-Edward! You scared me.  ❞ This wasn’t particularly hard to do. She spooked easily even on her best days. Most had attributed it to a combination of her overall shy nature and the transition of being a foreign exchange student all the way from France. 

        Forks must have seemed so miniscule and dull in comparison to the wealth of culture in Paris. It was true in some ways. Forks, Washington was a world away from the comforts of home. In a big city, it was easy to blend in and go unnoticed; but here, in a town that boasted an estimated 3,500 people, she stuck out like a sore thumb. It was even harder at school, where less than 500 students attended. She couldn’t seem to walk down a hall or in a classroom without the intense stare of her peers. It made her skin crawl and anxiety bubble like fresh tar in the pit of her stomach.

        Thankfully, not all of her peers seemed to think of her as a shiny, new novelty. Edward, for example, seemed perfectly fine to keep his distance. As did his siblings. It was only noticeable to her because everyone else was so invasive and curious. Jessica, the girl whose family Corinne was staying with for the rest of the school year, had been all too happy to fill in the details when curiosity got the better of her. Jessica liked to gossip and she talked fast. More than once, Corinne had to ask her to slow down and repeat something. Corinne’s English was good, but it wasn’t perfect and the fast-paced conversations that often took place around her usually made her head spin. 

        Like Corinne, the Cullens had blown into Forks unannounced and had been the topic of extreme interest among the student body for months, not least of all because they were all exceptionally and impossibly beautiful to look at. Even Corinne could admit that much. As if they were pulled directly from the glossy, airbrushed pages of a magazine. 

        Even now, staring at her intently as he was — as he seemed to do a lot lately, actually — he was startlingly easy on the eyes. She shook the thought away. Annoyed at herself for letting the overall opinion of the students influence her view of him. He was more than just a pretty face; he was nice and respectful! She knew this because he hadn’t once invaded her space or asked her a million questions. In fact, he seemed wholly unaffected by her arrival, which would have hurt her feelings if it hadn’t been so refreshing. 

        For a moment, confusion flitted across her features at his words. ❝  — Oh! I-Is this about the... presentation?  ❞ They had been paired up to give a history presentation on an era of their choosing. She hadn’t spoken to him since it was assigned the day before, so it only made sense to her that he’d seek her out. Corinne wrung her hands together.  ❝ Did you have something in mind?  ❞

[lionfanged]

pls fill out the attached google form for screening on if ur worthy and we will contact u in 5-7 business days a yes/no answer. u will also be paying for the date and it better be good!!

[yoakkemae]

✨🍀🍄

send ✨ and i'll recommend a multimuse blog.

"a" is crazy. lemme recommend five: @madefate // @mythcaels // @avaere // @lightcreators // @xamassed. some i've known only for a short while , some i've written with for years ( or almost a decade ). however , the amount of depth that gets put into each muse is delicious from these blogs. i love them so so so much , and my tumblr experience would be so less vibrant without them. also , this is by no means an exhaustive list. i follow so many wonderful multimuses !!

send 🍀 and i'll recommend an oc rp blog.

@unmeiha. i would die for cece , and while i don't know anything about final fantasy xiv , the amount of fervour cece has for koharu is so clear in everything that she writes. everything is a love letter to koharu and final fantasy and it's awe-inspiring to read even though i know nothing about the setting.

send 🍄 and i'll recommend a blog with incredible graphics.

did you mean: everyone i follow ? special shoutout to @amaeranthos , however , because kas made my carrd and the templates for the character bios i'm slowly moving onto carrd. kas is a fucking god at design and graphics. this is totally not an advertisement for kas's ko-fi or anything.

[rosewiltd]

i know i just redid my graphics, but @amaeranthos decided to be a menace and made me a whole new theme and carrd and updated my pinned graphics to match the new colours. i don't deserve them.

[tidalcove]

"everything i touch, i lose." - sasuke. // @amaeranthos

there is a haunting here. hinata can feel it in the walls of this home, as well as the ones that neighbor them; she can hear the painful echoes of those long gone in dust-ridden houses every time she tries to sleep ( so she ends up staring up at the ceiling for hours instead ). it is a suffocating, insidious dread that grows in her gut each time she walks the path up to his, now their, district from the village markets. there is a haunting here and she is married to it - a husband who is more ghost than man, filled with past sufferings and traumas he cannot let go of.

in truth, she is no different. hinata knows all about hauntings: the ghost of her mother has haunted her ever since she was a child. it's a vague memory, a child-like view of a feminine ideal she's chased and chased yet has never been able to tangibly grasp in her own desperate hands. it's a void no child was ever meant to fill and it eludes her still, even as a woman grown. it's a silent frustration, to still not be the matriarch she's tried to groom herself into being - even in a decaying household, in a living graveyard she calls home, she still couldn't live up to that image.

she's haunted by her father - by past words and childhood failings. by his sharp looks of disapproval, of disappointment, that stung even more. she's haunted by her own incompetency, her failure to never be quite strong enough - worthy enough. mostly, at least these days, she's haunted by her father selling her away to a dead legacy instead of letting her create her own. she isn't a hyūga anymore; more like a wraith of one.

we can't keep living like this, she thinks one day. but she also does nothing to stop it.

there are days, when the dishes have been washed and the house linen has been hung out to dry, that she allows her mind to wander - to dive too far into her own hauntings. she wonders what would happen if she just simply... left? left and wandered out into the woods and never returned, becoming a local legend told to spook children who strayed too far from the village at night. deep down hinata knows the answer though; she knows he would come find her, pale hand dragging her back to their shared mausoleum. misery loved company but she was also something that was his and therefore something to lose ( and he had already lost so much ).

the wind howls around her as hinata stares into nothingness, ignoring how the linen threatens to snap from the clothes line. it is in moments like this that her near ghostly-pale eyes and billowing white skirt make her look like a wisp of something otherworldly, unnatural. haunted.

she blinks back to reality, the sudden feeling that she is being watched creeping down her spine. he is here and he knows that she knows before she is feeling the touch of him; his cool palm slides against her back and around to her stomach, softly pushing her body into his and hinata allows it. allows herself to be wrapped up in his embrace, in his own haunts, fears, and desires. he's desperate even if he will not admit it: desperate for touch, for affection - and so was she: desperate to be loved, to be noticed.

there's a shudder when his lips hungrily ghost along her neck, her moans and the wail of the wind mixing into something terrible. the phantoms of this place fall silent for once as they let the two be - at least in this one moment.

[kitaishi]

❛ It's you, ❜ Cloud mumbles against her temple, ❛ it's always been you. ❜

unprompted ask ( i think ).

    a sealed up wish, tender feelings no one could know... // i. ❛ cloooooouuuud! ’ he never plays with her group of friends, always avoiding them when they call him over to their group. he would just ignore them, which really meant ignoring her, no matter how hard they try to invite him over. that always annoys tifa, her tiny hands bawling into little fists as her voice rings angrily across the town centre - which admittedly wasn't very far, ❛ fine, don't play with us - you big, stupid jerk! ’ she's not really sure why it bothers her so much; why there's still a pout on her face as she whines to her mother about it ( again ) as they walk hand in hand to her bedroom or why her mom just quietly laughs as she tucks her into bed. adults were weird.

      a starry night at a well, a promise itched... ii. tifa swallows the bitter disappointment she feels when a man, his hair dark and cascading down his back in spikey layers instead of blonde and upright, arrives into town with the well renowned sephiroth. every boy she had known had left home, making promises to write and more as they waved her goodbye - declaring they would make it big as they left their small town life, and their small town friend, behind. she hadn't ever bothered to see if they had, except for one. she feels silly the more her mind lingers on it, reminded of all the months she spent waiting on any small fragment of news that reached nibelheim - desperately searching for any sign of a certain name. tifa adjusts her hat as she pulls on her fakest smile, voice heavy with her mountain accent and a feeling she doesn't want to acknowledge right now tugging at her heart. ❛ welcome to nibelheim! ’

      if everything is a dream, don't wake the dreamer... iii. she can't help but stare at him, confusion and concern coloring her face as she watches over her childhood friend. ❛ cloud....? could that really be you? ’ he simply blinks up at her, his head rolling while he repeats her name from the ground in what feels like a drunken stupor before something inside of him suddenly clicks...and he jumps up with such an unnatural speed that tifa nearly stumbles over from surprise. cloud smiles down at her and it frightens her a little as she rises to meet his gaze. maybe it's because he's smiling but it's not at her, at least not really. it's past her; through her almost. cloud nods twice to himself before repeating her name again - although this time it sounds more like a confidant affirmation to himself, as if remembering her is locking something inside of him in place.

she briefly turns away from him, desperately trying to think of what to do or what to say - missing how his hands rise to clutch his head in pain once she's no longer looking. when she turns back, his posture is perfect and he's still standing there, smiling eerily past her. there's a familairty that rushes through her when she studies his face - memories of playing amongst dirt and riverbends, of stargazing and being lulled to sleep by crickets and wolf howls all coming back to her. of the smell of her father's warm and worn leather jacket and the taste of his own mother's cookies that always melted in her mouth just right. he reminds her of home. even when his bright mako eyes, eyes that she would normally despise, stare back at her instead of the bright blue she remembered from childhood. without any hesitation, tifa places a hand on his shoulder - giving him a gentle smile in return before she begins to lead him out of the rain and away from the station, ❛ it's good to see you again cloud... ’

      parting words left unsaid, only to be washed away... iv. mako poisoning. the doctor said it was...mako poisoning, an advanced case but the words, her new reality, still barely registered. even as she kneeled in front of cloud's unresponsive body, sobbing into the thick fabric of his pants. tifa wasn't sure how much of this she could take. ❛ please cloud... t-tell me that you can see me, that you can hear me?! talk to me! ’ there's no response, just like it has been every over time she's pleaded and begged for him to wake up - the small patient room silent aside from her continuous crying and the beeping of the machines fruitlessly monitoring cloud.

      together, in the stream of life, we find each other again. v. tifa watches in quiet awe as the illusion of the boy that she grew up with and who had helped her piece together the truth disappears with a comforting smile. all that's left in his place is the crumbled body of his adult self - clutching his head in pain and groaning to himself. ❛ cloud! ’ tifa shouts and runs to his side, desperate to touch him  - to know that he's real and is okay. ❛ it's really you...isn't it? ’ she asks softly while crouching down to his level, watching carefully as his eyes dilate and adjust to the glow of the lifestream before finally settling on her. once their eyes meet, it feels like, at least to her, that they're seeing each other for the first time in their entire lives.

 ...i was devastated. ...i wanted to be noticed. i thought if i got stronger i could get someone to notice...

      those words were spoken by his younger self and it had confused her then but now she understands. all the why's in her life suddenly making sense: why he always ignored her. why she agreed to meet him at the water tower despite that. why she cried alone when she couldn't gather the courage to ask zack if he ever knew a boy name cloud back in midgar... ❛ cloud, i... ’ her words are cut off when she feels his arms around her, wrapping her in a tight embrace as they both finally cry together, finally accept each other. it's you, she can hear his breath whisper against her hair as he cradles her, all the shared pain and trauma and unspoken feelings releasing in the depths of this strange place inside of his mind. it's always been you. 

❛ ...i know. ’ she whispers softly, her cheek laying on his shoulder as she closes her eyes and allows the current to take them back to the surface - back to mideel, to meteor, and all their troubles. but they had each other so tifa believed things would be okay this time. ❛ i see you cloud - i always have. ’

[paletterph]

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commission for amaeranthos! ♥