𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐒

❛❛ The night is finding me bored , my dearest . ❜❜ Daeron was a knight first , then a prince - he was not accustomed to the life of court and lords . He was out of place , he belonged on the field with a sword in hand and men by his side ; the man looked over at the woman sitting next to him … no , perhaps , this is where he belongs ; next to her . 

Hand found the underside of her seat , then pulled lover closer to him . Position shifted closer to her , elbow resting upon head of her seat while fingers entertained her dark silken locks , ❛❛ I hardly noticed them , only you . ❜❜ Daeron gazed at her ; he was a lover too . The prince was many things at once , tonight he decided to be the loving husband she had graced him to be . ❛❛ Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight , my Olenna ? ❜❜ Oh , he made himself blush ~ ! The man could get lost just admiring the most beautiful lady in all of Westeros , and she happened to be his wife .

                              ❛               i can see that,      dearest.               no ser jeremy to keep your attention?               ❜                              a brow quirks in curiosity.               it is rare to see her husband without his lover,      and she doesn’t relish it.               she knows daeron doesn’t particularly care for balls and feasts and the like,      but these need to be done,      and honestly she’s always been fond of them herself               ------               not the people,      gods no,      they could all stay home.               but the grandeur,      the wreaths of flowers,      the dancing...               it makes her feel as if she is back in the reach. 

                              no sooner has she sat down and stroked her skirts down with her delicate hands than olenna finds herself gasping as she slides across the floor ‘pon her chair.               she’s a petite,      tiny thing,      not that the task would be difficult for a man like daeron anyhow.               but it has her laughing and leaning her head into his roaming fingers.                              ❛               hm,      you only noticed me,      and yet you find yourself bored?               husband,      how could you?               ❜                              she pouts.               olenna is teasing him,      of course.               word games are her forte,      she can pick out anything anyone says,      even in a crowd,      and use it against them. 

​@thsndlves​​​ asked: SUPPORT  +  shoto to bakugou.   // THIS PROMPT.   ❰❰ SUPPORT ❱❱   sender comforts receiver after a loss / traumatic event

There’s a burning in his throat as he stands in the kitchen, fingers tight around the water bottle against his palm, creaking plastic echoing in his ears. It’s not every night it happens, but some nights, even the sanctuary of the dorms is not enough to chase away the feeling of fingers at his throat and metal encasing his arms. Not enough to force the cackles and coaxes from his ears or quiet the tremoring thud of his heart in his chest as it beats itself into a crescendo remembering that night.

He knows he’s not alone. Bakugou’s aware of the presence behind him, the anchoring presence that keeps him from slipping into the then and he hates that he needs it. That he wants it. Grit teeth hiss a breath between them and then he tips his head.

“Say nothing, Icyhot. It’s nothing. Just a shitty night, y’hear…”

Somewhere between those words is a thank you or at least a glimmer of gratitude, enough that even as he raises his bottle to his lips and swallows a gulp, he remains rooted to the spot. The call of his empty room and the looming shadows on the walls doesn’t yet hold any appeal.

                              there’s not much you can say to bakugou.               tell him he’s handling things surprisingly well,      actually,      and he’ll find a way to think you’re patronizing him               ------               and of course he isn’t going to tell him to calm down.               that’s just insulting,      no matter who you are.               but shoto’s been watching him from the kitchen door for a good while now,      silent as ever until the other boy notices him.               the blonde hasn’t been during well for nights on end now...            and it’s not difficult to guess what might be plaguing his mind,      though he’s never explained what happened...               not in any detail. 

                              he slowly wandered over towards him.            he’s quiet,      gentle,      expecting to get pushed back and shouted at,      but bakugou’s hissed words aren’t actually that bad,      and the spark of begrudging gratitude in his eyes almost makes shoto smile.                              ❛               there’s nothing to tell,      don’t worry about that...               ❜                         shoto is at least,      no gossip                              (               in fact,      it’s difficult to get him to open up at all sometimes.               )

@thsndlves​

cup + reverse + eri !!

that idea where he takes her away from the heroes ??

It wasn’t by his hand that she actually was taken. Too many defences, so little time. He would have to destroy the entire hospital complex and the heroes within it and then, wouldn’t she just see him as no better than Overhaul – a destructive beast with a quirk to match that only brings death, pain and ruin.

No, he couldn’t have her view him in the same light. So he sent Toga. Reliable, sweet, sisterly Toga, who could wear whatever face would make Eri comply. Aizawa’s blood had already been ingested once by her when she stabbed him in the back – just a few droplets were enough for the five minutes she needed. A hospital doctor next, and before the day’s done, the blonde is happily wheeling the girl in.

“Let’s play sometime, okay, Eri-chan?” Toga promised, bending to give the girl’s hair a little ruffle before nodding to Shigaraki, her lips curved in that ever present smirk. She skipped off, leaving the two alone. 

Shigaraki’s never been conscious of his appearance, but he knew what he looked like. A half-decayed man of scars and wispy, tangled hair, long enough to cover his face in lieu of the embalmed hand that was ever present. His shoulders hunched like the spectre of death was about to rise and greet her when he shambled over, body wobbling like the effort of walking was about to split his body apart. The only thing ever alive about him, his eyes, burning crimson, belayed not the hatred and anger stored within him, but an unspoken kindness that tried it’s best to reassure her.

Gnarled hand lifts, skin discoloured and withered and nails bitten to the quick reach for her, though only two fingers end up touching her cheek, his other digits splayed in a way that made it impossible to touch her. Evidence of his quirk. Shigaraki gently caresses with his thumb and gives her a closed lip smile.

“You’re safe … now..” his voice is raspy, low and quiet like it pained him to speak. “The so called heroes … they only … took you from Overhaul … to use you like he did … You heard it .. right? About that hero .. that was made quirkless.. ?”

Shigaraki shakes his head. He needs to take a different approach. She was just a child.

“… I’m the man … that took away Overhaul’s arms.” he told her. “.. Tomura.. That’s my name. I’m .. going to protect you. Nobody’s … gonna hurt you .. ever again…”

                              keeping up with what is happening proves pretty difficult.               she’s still so young,      and though she has been asked to understand things far beyond her years,      she had never been privy to the powers of those who     ‘  joined  ‘     her guardian,    so she has no idea of tomura and toga’s plans.               she watches the girl as she ruffles her hair,      strands falling between those wide,      fearful eyes.                              ❛               okay!               ❜                              her voice is desperate,      simple answer pleading for toga to stay.               she doesn’t know her well but she seems nice,      nice like the kids from class 1a               ------               and less scary than tomura. 

                              before her,      a man.               young though he is,      his skin is decaying,      his hair a strange color not far from her own,      which does peak her curiosity.                              ❛               are you...      o  -  okay mister?               ❜                              her voice is a tiny wisp.               he looks unwell,      sick and tired,      and she wonders if that’s why he needs her help.            fear grips between her ribs               ------               what if she let’s him down?               just like her grandfather               ------                              ❛               where’s mr. aizawa?               ❜               eri peers around,      tries to look somewhere else.               wasn’t it mr. aizawa who told her to go with the kind girl               ------               ?

                              but the way he shambles towards her so suddenly,      like a corpse,      draws a whimper from her lips that eri is quick to appear apologetic for a moment after,      lowering her chin against the two fingers that touch her cheek.               she only dares peer upwards as he speaks. 

                              she takes a moment to take in what he’s saying.               that is...               is not what she expects him to say.               quickly,      the girl shakes her head against his fingers.                              ❛               no!               his name is m  -  mirio,      and he’s my friend,      i      ---      i wanna’ help him!               they’re not making me,      promise!               ❜                              bless her silly,      little heart,      she thinks he must be mistaken.               though his next revelation shocks her into stillness.               he would likely feel her heartbeat in her throat,      at the mere mention of his name. 

                              kai got hurt.               another of her sins.               another person hurt because of her...               he promises she will be safe,      but it’s not her that needs to be kept safe:               the world must be kept safe from her.

closed  starter               ------               ft.    𝙳𝙰𝙴𝚁𝙾𝙽  𝚃𝙰𝚁𝙶𝙰𝚁𝚈𝙴𝙽.

closed  starter      ------      ft.    𝙲𝙿𝚃.  𝙰𝙼𝙴𝙻𝙸𝙰  𝚂𝙼𝙾𝙻𝙻𝙴𝚃𝚃.