Aug 1, 2025
@askladyebony liked for a starter
"This might be a silly question. But if you've been the muse of written word, were you the one who came up with sonnets?"
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@askladyebony liked for a starter
"This might be a silly question. But if you've been the muse of written word, were you the one who came up with sonnets?"
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“D’you know….the weirdest thing is happening when I talk to the Guardians now. Particularly when they’re upset.”
“They feel better. Or, at least heard. Supported. It’s so uncanny but it feels….good?…to have that effect on them.”
“Don’t look into that mirror.”
prompt.
Curious eyes immediately rip away from the intriguing artifact, his paws jerking away from the cloth covering up said mirror. Something about whatever laid beneath the fabric had pulled at his attention and - how did the expression go? Curiosity could kill? Bunnymund took a large physical step back & two more mentally from whatever the hell that was. "Why on earth do ya have.. honestly not sure whatever that is - in a mirror?"
Silly art request, but why not: Doodle the Elf, bravely defending their eggie
tiny rage
Have you ever watched frost melt, just so you could look at the water drops?
Sᴇɴᴅ ᴍʏ ᴍᴜsᴇ “Hᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇᴠᴇʀ (...)”s. Tʜᴇʏ ᴄᴀɴ ᴏɴʟʏ ʀᴇᴘʟʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ‘ʏᴇs’ ᴏʀ ‘ɴᴏ’.
"...No. Is that a thing people do? You could just go watch it rain for a while and get the same thing out of it."
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"I can see your fangs."
(Monster sentence starters: ACCEPTING!)
--------------
The Boogeyman freezes at the threshold of the Muse's beautiful, idyllic clearing. Euterpe--Ebony--has never slandered the man who had been her devoted husband. There's a quiet immutability about her honor and her dignity, steadfast in beauty and strength across the centuries, like a column in one of the many temples praising the arts of her origin.
So what is he to say, the Nightmare King now emboldened to stand basked in the rosepetal glow of dusk--how to meet this accusation? The black echings of vapor and shadow that hem his robes now coil closer and closer to his ankles. The gold plating made seemingly out of chalky, pearly chunks of moonlight simply fades. Unconsciously, Pitch is hiding.
"I haven't felt like me lately," he tries, hoarsely, to both joke and plead patience.
And mercy?
"So I don't know how to respond kindly to your...observation. Since responding kindly is again a...well, a priority."
-------
❛ I didn’t feel sorry for him, but i understood him. ❜
uprooted.
"Hmm." The hum was a soft rumble from the Pooka, expressioned trained into neutrality as his gaze never shifts from the soft loam of the Earth. Claws swirling soft trails into the soil as he gently pours his own magic in, coaxing bright green, vivid growth in the form of frail sprouts that burst into colorful crocus blooms. "So what was it that ya understood about him?"
"When was the last time you had a good, long nap?"
prompt.
"Ah'll have you know I got in a lovely kip after mah Spring run. An actual entire night's worth of rest. So ta be exact... right after Spring Equinox."