#kyffhausr

𝐒𝐈𝐗 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐒 ( 𝐋𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐔𝐆𝐎 ) 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 [accepting] [x]

A long, shuddering exhale filters through her nose, nostrils flaring. It would be entirely too easy to ignore the king's advice. Just to spite him. Inflict her own pain and frustration on someone, even if he hadn't done anything to deserve it.

It wasn't his fault she had fallen down. It wasn't his fault that a hole had opened in the mountains of the Lost Woods, deep in the never ending abyss of trees, mists and demons.

"At least if I ground these fangs down, I would seem human." Robin muttered, even though it hurt. Tears pricked at her stubborn eyes, fists clenched at her sides.

The thousands of golden flowers around them make her nose ache from the sweet scent, dizzying in aroma. It's too much.

>a h . . .

>It’s Mr Da ASGORE . . . KING OF THE MONSTERS. >3500 HP. > 80 ATK 80 DEF >he loves you as much as he loves Asriel. >. . . And yet. >Why can’t you look at him?

Their head dips low when Asgore smiles at you. Their cheeks feel hot and red, and they can’t seem to meet his eyes. . . . Still, he waits patiently.

(As patiently as he always does.)

— finally, Chara looks up. Their cheeks are ruddier than usual, and it takes a moment for them to gather up the courage to speak.

“. . . Greetings.”

kyffhausr asked: [ FOUND. ]   the sender found the receiver somewhere after a full moon, and decides to take care of them @ Bigby - what a strange little human..or not! ; ―  WEREWOLF STARTER PROMPTS .

"Don't touch me," snarled the beast, fur raising up on his back. The wolf had under-went a dangerous task of a fight that he considered in poor taste. Part of him felt his own personal pride tainted to find himself in this mess of pain that angered him so much. To find somebody who pitied him. It wasn't the case specifically, but to Bigby, it felt as such.

And with such pain angered him like how it always did. Somebody as kind and generous as ASGORE was... rare.

"I-I saw it first! I-It's mine! " she yells , ( there is nothing of a threat behind her words. , she was nothing compared to the others larger size ) And even though the weapon is pulled , her small pin sword would result in nothing more than a pin prick.

@kyffhausr inquired: “ I believe I’m quite overdue to pay you a visit, dear piscine.” A warm smile in regards, and he politely takes to a knee. One part mannerisms and the other to at least halve his looming height. “ And may I say your claws and gills are twice as sharp and as full as ever! In good health I presume!” // hiii hiiii it’s been ten years hiiiiii

The smile is returned in equal measure — not too much, not too little. Just the appropriate quirk of her lips, the correct angle of approach, not showing her teeth but letting the ends of her mouth creep ever closer to the mass of fine, fuzzy frills that perched over her cheeks and clouded the end of her jaw, obscuring and constructing, in equal measure, the base of her fins. Now, more than ever, it feels alien on her face, mismatched to the rest of her and improperly inhabited, like a seed that just hadn't taken root.

Of course, it is still perfect. Her sensibilities don't betray her yet, which is good, because she was trained for this and given the exact tools she would need for a situation like this. The smile is one. It isn't hers, but it is soft and warm and invokes a ray of sunshine, a beckoning warmth inviting another to lay down within it, to blanket themselves in the golden light and be consumed by it. She is a master of her craft, immaculate in all of her fine details, and when she smiles and lifts her hand for the proper greeting granted to a visiting dignitary, she fits every definition that could be leveled at her. Crown Princess Miranda Vanderbilt is something out of a dream or a fairytale, and her reputation precedes her.

"And I believe you are making up for lost time in flattery, my darling leonine." She tilts her head, nodding, agreement for the pleasantries at hand. This is not an insult — cheeky, at worst, combined with the smile to slide it towards something endearing, a sweet little if-you-know-what-I-mean whispered in the ear, the currency of her title. It's doled out, dealt well by her hand, exchanged and brokered, and she follows this dance along to every last dotted i and crossed t.

"You have good taste, and I would expect nothing less from yourself. Is that a new horn polish I spot? It catches the light rather well, and truly accentuates what you have done with your mane.

@kyffhausr sent: “Why don’t you correct them? When people talk about you, and they’re wrong?”

first impression sentence starters (accepting)

Nick gave a small shrug, "That's the issue...I'd rather not correct them when in return, all they give me in return is backlash and saying that I'm wrong and that they're right." He snorted softly.