Kamisama Hajimemashita
Cosplay: Nanami Momozono
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@nanamisama
Kamisama Hajimemashita
Cosplay: Nanami Momozono
Offline; replies are drafted
Also don’t forget, today is my Howl’s birthday!
"Why hello there"
"Hello to you too!"
⊰ 🌸 ⊱—— “Nana-chan?” she questioned with a startled voice. Nothing more was utter from her.
"You said 'help me'... so I was wondering if you're okay?"
"IT’S MOMOZONO!" Nanami yelled back at the other, her hands balled into fists. Seeing him get butthurt about getting called icky just made her grin now. Great, she’s gonna start tormenting him too, that is if she could. "Ahahah!!! You’re icky! And you stink! And you smell like 4 day old poop~!"
Gabe cocked an eyebrow. “Wow MomoBoobo. You’re rather childish~ How will you ever find yourself a man with such poor behavior?” Are you even one to talk right now, Gabe. Don’t purposefully egg her on that’s just not right.
"..............your nicknames are just getting more ridiculous." Nanami frowned deeply, wrinkles creased her face. "I think I can find a man better than you, thank you very much~! One who's more mature and stuff rather than calling girls stupid names!" Really, with her attitude she scared men away.
"Shii....ta...ke..." Nanami would grumble seeing the despicable fungi in her plate.
cover (by pastelmacarons on flickr)
⊰ ♕ ⊱—— “Help me…”
"K-Kanade?" Nanami would murmur, "A-are you alright?"
¤ fROM NANAMI AND HOWL
Send me ” ¤” for my muses reaction to yours kissing them out of no where.
AU-Verse ; Nanami
♋ — ; "…Did you think that this would change things?" Ice spilled from his pale lips, the youthful bone of his jaw tightened against the words that he spoke. He yearned to speak differently, softly, warmly. He wished, and wanted, and yearned to reassure her, and thank her, and apologize. Instead, he rejected her. His lips burned. "…it’s enough, Nanami. Don’t push your luck."
Main-Verse ; Howl
♋ — ; Emotion fogged the glassy expanse of grey-green gaze, cast upon the earth below in partial shame, and partial sorrow, and partial discomfort. It was not a feeling that he enjoyed, nor had he enjoyed the action that spurred it. A strong palm upon his shoulder was one matter, breeding pride and reassurance. A tender kiss upon his silken crown, sprung from affection and true emotion, was another entirely. He dared not speak, nor move. He merely watched the floor beneath him rot, the festering parasite of attachment reaching deeply into the cavern of his chest, and staining his soul.