#them (tm)

[perditus-a]

|| the two new muses , Nobaru and Uraume I’m iconing atm||

[featherstcnes-a]

hi this is your daily reminder that i would do absolutely anything for aleksander morozova and nikolai lantsov, thank u for coming to my ted talk <3

[waruihoshi]

[bloominghands]

@wargod​ whispered:  "I can hardly hear myself think," Dawa mused, two hands tucked under their chin to prop themself up, several other arms flop idly to the side. The deities eyes were full of admiration, something close to adoration. "The world stops and the flowers strain themselves towards you, like your presence demands all attention."

  Golden eyes flutter in surprise both at the sudden comment and the sight of the stranger addressing her. But their words register after a moment, and she finds herself unable to be short towards them, as she might generally be with someone unknown. “I- Apologize?” She begins, her gaze running over their form in curiosity before flicking back to their face. “If I am bothering you, I don’t do so intentionally.” 

   A pause fills the air before she finds her curiosity speaking for her. “May I ask who you are?” 

[emcads]

@theyeardecembered​  said :  " relaxin' . t'dance witchu. "  kitty ? relaxed ? a miracle.

𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄.    it is a hard-muscled thing,   skin like iron plate and eternally bloodied from WAR.   Esmeralda has never seen the tension loosen from her  :   even in peaceful moments Kitty seems to know they are always temporary and there is never a day where a RED FLAG couldn’t be looming past the edge of the horizon.   her captain values it,   more than she knows ;  it is a bit of a SWEET RELIEF,  after suffering the obedience of a crew more fond of drinking themselves to darkness than keeping themselves on their TOES.   but she wishes that Kitty could get even a TASTE of their languor,  some days.  she does not know PEACE,  it seems.  she is a stranger to rest.

❝    I haven’t danced in a long time.  I must admit I’m a bit rusty,  with the steps.    ❞    

nor is Esmeralda accustomed to leading the dance,  perhaps the one and only role where she will sacrifice her need for AUTHORITY  to the dictations of fashion and polite society.  (  not to mention that following is so much prettier when there are PETTICOATS to twirl.  )   but she has assumed it,   or tried to  ––––   for there were  several minutes in which she only dissolved into GIGGLES as she tried to reverse the footwork so ingrained,  with little progress actually made in her task.   it still isn’t perfect,  not nearly good enough to perform before a court,  but enough to soothe the two of them on the holystoned deck,   Spanish music wafting from smooth wooden guitarras,  the stars themselves twinkling in rhythm. 

once she’d not have even thought such a thing.  girlish and silly,  to think that the stars cared about a dancing pair on a pirate ship.  but Kitty has shown her so much.  and she has come from the stars ––– she  IS  the stars,   to her captain.  everything brilliant and burning and far away consolidated into one body that BURST  with it all.

❝    what is dancing like at your home ?   ❞