Love Belt

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Welcome!!! You can call me Belt she/her

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Ch.1

Premise: Arranged marriage in a past life, messy situationship in the present

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Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. It’s all you can think as you walk through the market past your family’s stall. You grumble as you make your way through, weaving past the crowds. It was rush hour for the market, and instead of working at the stall you’re going home. When you’d shown up in the morning, like you do every morning, they’d turn you away. “You’re married now, you should be at home. There’s no need for you to work anymore,” is the first and last thing your father said to you, before your cousin ushered you out of the stall. It’s safe to say you were livid. Ever since you were young, you’ve been at that stall. Though there were times you hated it, it was comforting. Something of normalcy. It was supposed to be an oasis from being married. But you don’t even get that now. As you enter the door to your new home you can only think of how pathetic it is to be essentially fired by your own family.

It’s weird. The silence. Usually you’re surrounded, and if it’s not by your family it’s by customers. As you sit on the couch, confused on what to do for the day, you feel lost. Everything you’ve known is bustling and loud, and though you’ve loathed it at times it was normalcy. This is not normal to you. Silence so loud you’re straining your ears to hear something. Someone walking down the street, a dog barking, the wind, anything to distract you. Anything to fill the time. What do wives do, you think as you stare out the window. This wasn’t something taught. How to fill the long hours between. Do you go for a walk, cook something, hell even clean? You don’t know what to do. As the afternoon sun hits your face, you jolt up. All you’ve been doing is siting staring out the window. Nothing is done, but is something supposed to be done. It’s not like Jamil talked to you about what he expected or wanted. Or are you already supposed to know. Maybe you should try to throw something together or make an excuse on why you couldn’t cook. Your mind races with these thoughts when the door opens. You freeze. Even though there’s someone in the house it’s still silent. Jamil doesn’t say a word and walks straight to the bedroom and closes the door. Maybe he ate earlier. You make your way to the kitchen to at least make something for yourself. Standing at the counter, chopping away, is somewhat therapeutic. It’s something to do and with it brings sound. You’ve barely spoken all day and you know you won’t for the rest of the night either. You finish making your meal and before you realize it you make an extra plate. Just returning the favor, you think as you sit at the table eating quickly. ——————————————————————

Your back hurts from another night on the couch. You should really think about convincing Jamil to switch every once in a while. As your feet hit the cold floor, sliding off the couch, it’s grounding. Once again the house I silent. You look out the window sun higher in the sky than you thought, you must have slept in. As you rise off the couch trudging through the house you notice a plate of food on the counter. It’s breakfast.

Today is going to be different, you think as you wipe down the kitchen counter. Today you’ll start doing what a wife should do. Or at least what you think they should do. Hours pass by, filled with your constant cleaning and rearranging of the house. All but one room left untouched, door remaining closed, the bedroom. Even if it’s supposed to be a shared space between the both of you it feels weird to step inside. You haven’t seen it once and with the way Jamil has been behaving, you’re not sure if you’ll ever see it.

As you stir the curry you’ve decided to make for dinner, Jamil walks in the house. Before he can walk straight to the bedroom like before you call out to him. “Hey I’m making dinner, it’ll be ready soon maybe you can join me.” You regret it after you say it slightly embarrassed. It’s the first thing you’ve really said to him since your wedding night. Just as you’re sure he’ll deny your offer he sits down at the table. Seeing this you rush to finish your curry before placing down a bowl in front of him. The meal is filled with silence, all that can be heard is spoons hitting their respective bowls. Maybe this was a mistake, you think as you finish the last of your curry. Before you can get up Jamil takes your bowl and his and washed it. You sit there in shock as you watch him clean up, even putting the left over curry away. But as soon as he’s started he’s finished, walking back over to the bedroom and closing the door. Grinning, you walk over to the couch. Sure the two of you didn’t talk but this was something.

Premise: Arranged marriage in a past life, messy situationship in the present

Next>

“We gather here today to witness the union between Jamil and-.” From the moment the officiant started speaking your ears have been ringing. Ringing, loud and distracting, taking away any semblance of peace you had tried having. “The agreement these two make today is sacred.” You can’t look at the officiant anymore. You can’t bring yourself to look at anybody. All you can do is look down, focus your eyes on the dress that was so nicely tailored for you. It really is a pretty dress, is something you can’t help but think. The thought helps distract you, but just for a moment. “Will you give her this ring as a symbol of your promise to honor and provide for her the rest of her life, and as a symbol of her freedom as your wife.” “I do.” You feel the ring slip on your finger and stare at it. It’s beautiful, something you’ve always wanted. But not like this, right? It’s something you repeat in your head, even as you both say your vows. You’re on autopilot at this point, the words coming out with practiced ease. The ringing in your ears has come back and it’s only louder. Only now you’re also holding back tears. This is what you’ve wanted, always and forever. But you know it’s not what either of you had in mind. “I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may now kiss the bride.” As you both share a kiss under the watchful eyes of friends and family, you can’t help but feel sick. It’s final now, and you know he’s not happy. 

It’s not until late into the evening, when even the drunks have wandered off, is when he opens the door to your new home. It’s cozy, for lack of a better word. “It’s…nice, don’t you think,” you say tentatively to him. He hasn’t said more than a sentence to you the entire night but now that you’re alone maybe he’ll change. You look at him hopeful but he just sighs and takes off his suit jacket, walking over to the bedroom, your bedroom. “I’m going to bed, do whatever you want.” He says it quietly leaving the door slightly cracked. The house is quiet once more, the silence more suffocating now. All you can do is sit down on the couch and put your head into your hands. Where did I go wrong? Was this a mistake? Negative thoughts continue to flood your mind, mourning what could have been. After all, it wasn't always like this.

When you first met Jamil it was at the market. Your family owned a stall selling fruits, more specifically dates. It was your family’s specialty and the reason most people, including Jamil, came to the stall. The two of you were never really that close but would talk from time to time. It was a simple arrangement, he’d come every Sunday to buy groceries for the week and you would start up a conversation as he bought all the stuff. That’s all it was and all it ever should have been. But while the two of you chatted away people watched. Twisting small talk into an obvious display of affection. The two of you were of age and families of the same status. Your dowry was relatively cheap and his reputation was good. It was the best outcome for both families, just not each other. After all times had been tough and a wedding would brighten everyone’s spirit. At least that’s what your family had told you. It was for the best. This union was for the best.

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You woke up bleary eyed on the couch. All you can think about is how your back hurts and how it smells like someone is making food. You sit up, dress still on from the night before, and trudge towards the kitchen. It’s there that you see him, making breakfast. “Good morning,” you say tentatively before sitting down at the table. He doesn’t respond and just places a plate in front of you. “Thank you.” You watch as he walks back into the bedroom and shuts the door. All you can do is eat your breakfast quietly and even though you don’t want to admit it, his cooking is really good. 

As you wash your dishes you hear the front door open and close behind you. He left for work, without as much as a good bye. You just sigh and walk over to the front door, opening it wide before yelling out,” Goodbye Jamil,” and shutting it again. If he’s going to be weird I’m going to be weird. I mean who makes you breakfast and then doesn’t say goodbye. The house falls silent again, suffocating and awkward. You finally walk into the room to change. The both of you didn’t have the luxury for a honeymoon, so going to work was the only thing to do. You finish getting ready and head for the front door. Is this really my life now, is all you can think as you walk to your family’s stall. Where did you go wrong? Is this something that could be fixed? Are you doomed to have a silent house forever? You sit at the stall and stare off. Maybe in the next life I’ll be luckier. 

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Premise: Something ties you to the housewarden of heartslabyul, whether it be a passed along notes or a connection in a past life.

A/N: this took me ten billion years, maybe mischaracterized

Riddle’s life is one built on routine. 6:00 am wake up. Make sure all grooming and preparing for the day ends by 6:45. Allow yourself a light breakfast. 7:15 study until lunch. 12:30 partake in said lunch and allow yourself an after meal tea. 1:00 hour of independent study. 2:00 study until 5:30 when the head of the house, his mother, expects a report on what was learned today. 6:00 eat dinner. 6:45 get ready for the night. 8:00 go to sleep. 

It wasn’t a pleasant life by any means. But what else was there. According to his mother this was the life of a well respected individual. Someone who would succeed and leave their mark on the world. Who is Riddle to complain. In this house, her word is law and what else does he have to compare to. Stuck in a mansion on the hill near a forest, the neighboring population was scarce. The most human interaction he had was his mother and the help.

To Riddle the help was an extension of his mother. They would report everything and anything he did out of line to her. When going through their daily routines they would not speak to him. Instructed to at all times avoid him, only to interact when necessary it led to a lonely life. And it should have continued that way, until you were hired of course 

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There’s a new maid, Riddle thought as he saw you run across the hall careful to avoid him. It was obvious you hadn’t quite learned the rules yet and you would surely be punished for it by a senior maid. Better they learn sooner than later I suppose, mother doesn’t take kindly to multiple transgressions. 

Surprisingly that wasn’t the last time Riddle would see you. Apparently because the two of you were close in age, you had been assigned to take care of his daily necessities such as bringing his tea and meals. At least that’s what you had sneakily told him before scurrying off as not to be caught speaking to him. It was weird for someone to try and speak to him so often. Most days the only voice he’ll hear is his own as he checks to see if he can still speak after being silent for so long. The thought of this being a test crosses his mind. What if this is to see if he’s following the rules as well. I’ll just have to keep my guard up, I know what’s best for me and that’s what mother tells me.

Another note, I wonder what it says this time. As of late, while bringing his after meal tea you slip a note onto the tray for him to read. It started off relatively simple, a hello hastily written or a how was your day. He hadn’t responded to them of course, cautious of the whole ordeal. But he hadn’t told them to stop. It was just a note after all, what more is there to it. As he opens the note he lets out a surprised laugh. On the note there is a terribly drawn hedgehog with the words, “Saw a few in the garden, reminded me of you. Enjoy the tea.” He stares at the note for a second longer before slipping the note into a book of his. Maybe it’d be okay if he kept this one.

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Routine is something Riddle is used to, something he subconsciously craves. Disruption to order or the rules was taught to him as the gravest sin. But for something that’s supposed to be so important, as of late he finds it harder for him to care. He looks forward to the daily notes, which he now responds to. During his personal study time he much rather sneakily talk to you through his bedroom window while you hide in the bushes than go over the same old textbook. For a life built on constant routine this new factor was surprisingly welcomed. The thought of a friend or even something more was tantalizing.

The two of you often meet by the rose bushes, a place most of the staff don’t walk by. While there the two of you will talk endlessly about anything. You tell him of the world outside his home and all the things you’ve seen. He tells you of all the things he’s learned and fun facts he thinks you’ll enjoy. Two vastly different topics but for some reason it works. Perhaps we’re both a bit lonely, Riddle thinks as he silently watches you talk on and on about a childhood memory of yours. It’s weird but he allows himself to just relax around you. He doesn’t want to be plagued by the thoughts of what his mother would think. Why would he, when you grip his hand a little tighter or lean in a little closer. For who would focus on anything else but a secret kiss hidden by the leaves of a rose bush.

One winter afternoon another maid brings his meal. Not entirely weird, you have fallen ill before and had another maid help instead. But this time it felt off. The way the maid looks at him feels judgemental or pitiful. He ignores the look and the feeling and continues with his tea and studies. Or he tried to until a crash and loud yelling is heard downstairs. He carefully descends the stairs confused by the commotion. Noise is almost void in this house besides your presence. And yelling was unheard of. As he reaches the bottom of the stairs his face falls at the sight before him. “Out I want you out, don’t you ever think of coming back here ever again,” his mother screams, throwing your bags another maid brought towards you. “Please madame it’s snowing outside, basically a storm. If you’d let me stay until it passed I would really appreciate it.” You’re on the ground pleading at his mother in tears. He stands there in shock watching it unfold. He’d gotten careless, forgotten where he lived. “Mother,” he tries but the words die in his throat as she turns to him. “Riddle I can not believe you would do this, you know better than to break a rule and for a maid. I’m disappointed in you.” She angrily turns back towards you, focusing back on her main objective. “How dare you ruin this household and ask to stay another day. I do not care if it is snowing, raining, or a bright clear day. I want you out of my house now.” 

She says the last part sternly and all you can do is nod. You stand up slowly grabbing your bags before making one last statement,” I’m sorry for asking madame I will be off now.” As you turn towards the door you take one last look at Riddle, but he looks away. Tears filling your eyes,you open the door and enter the snow storm that awaits you. The mansion is high up a hill near a forest with no one around for miles, and it’s then you realize the cold will get to you before the heartbreak does.

When you leave the house it seems dimer to him, his mother made sure of it. Now the staff can’t see him at all leaving his meals outside of his doors. His bedroom window is sealed and the bushes of roses are cut short so no one can hide by them. He falls into the same routine as before only now he feels emptier. Now he’s haunted by what was and could have been if he’d only stood up for himself. Not just for himself but for you. As he writes away pages and pages of notes only one constant thought crosses his mind, I know what’s best for me and that’s what mother tells me. For accepting that it’s anything else is facing his guilt. Something he wants to avoid in this life and the next.

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Leona x Reader Christmas Special Merry Christmas Everyone!!

“For the last time Grim I am not sculpting the snowman to look like you,” you sigh, rolling the snow on the ground to start to make the body of a snowman. “Come on henchman I won’t even ask for the fancy tuna today if you do it, what better snowman than the great and mighty Gr-,” he stops suddenly muffled by the snow ball your companion had thrown at him. “Be quiet it’s too cold and early to be making all that noise,” Leona says looking at Grim smugly. “Besides a snow lion would be much better don’t you think.” He smirks at you, but you simply turn away and continue making your snowman. “Look neither of you are helping me so there will be no snow grim or snow lion. You know what from now on this is going to be a snow ramshackle housewarden.” You start to change your snowman to fit more of your own features, well as best you can with snow. A few minutes later it’s done, a perfect snow you. “See you guys doesn’t this look nice,” you say proudly looking at Grim and Leona with a smile. They both just grumble stating that their idea was better but yours looks cute anyway.

Ch 2: Woe’s of an Illegally Employed Janitor

<Previous Next>

As you picked up the fifth half eaten apple off the floor, you cursed yourself for ever joking about working a minimum wage job if you failed in school. This had to be a manifestation of all those jokes you made with your friends. Or a curse placed upon you by a spiteful janitor who saw you forget to pick up your trash after they had just worked a long shift. Your living conditions weren’t helping your mood either, from the creaky floorboards, a leaking ceiling, and of course the ghosts who had managed to keep you up all night. At least you had company, the creature from before forced to become a cleaner as well. You’d managed to learn his name after numerous drawings and a few frustrated tears. Grim, although weird it wasn’t too unusual of a name, giving you a sense of normality.

The two of you make your way around campus cleaning as you go, when you come across a set of statues. Regal and ornate, you can tell they are of importance. “⏚⏁⍜⎅⟒☊⍜⟟⏁⍜☊⍜⍀⏃⊬⟟.” Grim turns and so do you, someone having said something behind you. You assume they’re responding to Grim, who’s been babbling beside you even if you don’t understand. They converse for a while, the new figure pointing at the statues. Grim introduces you or tries to, your name difficult in such a world. “[name], it’s [name],” you try to convey and they both seem to get it. From what you’re able to pick up, the phrase for my name having been said to you a lot, the student introduces himself as Ace.

They continue their conversation Ace explaining each statue, but the words are foreign to you so you simply watch. All is well, until Ace insults you two, at least you think that’s what happened. Grim’s demeanor shifts and so does Ace’s. They both take up a fighting stance and when Ace takes out what looks to be a wand or pen of some sort you take a step back. It’s only been a day since the last magic incident and you don’t want to stick around for the next.

Before you’re able to dash off, the headmage steps in front of you all. His tone has taken a sharper edge, as he berates Ace and Grim pointing angrily at a statue of a woman adorned with hearts that looks like it’s been slightly burned by Grim’s magic. He goes to turn to you having forgotten about your situation,”⊬⏚⟒⍾⍙ ⟒⎎⍀☍⋏⏁⏚⍜⍙⏁⍜⌿.” All you can do is stare at him and watch as he remembers your inability to understand, clearing his throat as he pulls a piece a paper from his pocket and draws something. He hands it to you and you can see what looks to be you, Ace, and Grim cleaning a bunch of windows. “This has to be a joke, what did I do, I couldn’t even stop them if I wanted to,” you explain angrily but everyone just stares. You sigh and just nod your head and hand the paper back to the headmage. Might as well agree to do it if no one will get what you’re saying anyway.

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Meeting Ace had to be the worse thing that happened to you, is a thought that crosses your mind while you walk through a forest. You should have fought harder on not cleaning with him, now you have to fix a stupid chandelier or become homeless. When the headmage gave you that drawing explaining what you had to do, you almost ripped it up. But he’s your best bet in finding a way home, so if that means looking for a magical gem with idiot 1(Ace) and the new addition idiot 2(Deuce) then so be it. The group argues the whole way, well it’s mainly Ace and Grim, Deuce seeming stressed out about the whole thing. You walk close to Deuce because of this, if something happens you don’t want Ace or Grim to have to save your life. This ends up being a mistake as the one you hoped was the smartest is the one who wants to go back into the cave you’d just ran out of. He seems adamant about going back in despite the crazy bloodthirsty monster you’d just evaded still being in there. You look at him as he talking hands waving, eyes conveying urgency. He wants to stay at this school and you can respect that. As they argue you pick up a stick and start drawing on the ground. “Hey can you guys look over here,” you say to get their attention. They look at you confused then look at your drawing. It’s a plan and if you all want to stay, you need to work together, somehow.

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Premise: Uh-oh you’ve showed up in twisted wonderland speaking a language that’s apparently super ancient. Luckily you have a “trustworthy” ex-war general that is way too old to be a student who is able to translate for you. What could go wrong

Warnings: Slowburn??? Possible mischaracterization, not biggest Lilia fan but he fit this idea a little too well

Ch 1: She said, she said, she said, she’s from… where?

Next>

The coffin was cold and so were you. A voice muffled by the thick wood, you can’t help but press your ear against the lid trying to make out the words. Suddenly the lid is lifted open, and before you can catch yourself you fall onto the ground with a thud. Still reeling from the fall, the figure in front of you remains ignored, voice still very unfamiliar.

You finally look up to see… a cat? Or a raccoon hybrid thing? Whatever it was it was currently talking to you and its ears were on fire. “⍜⍙⋔☍⍙⍜⊑⊑⍙⟊⍙⟊⍙⟊⟒.” You look at it confused, it seems like it’s trying to convey something, its stance and waving hands too intentional to just be an animal hissing.

The creature keeps talking at you unaware of your inner turmoil. “Hello,” you say tentatively, maybe the fall was worse than you thought. The creature looks at you confused, a break from his seemingly proud demeanor. You take that confusion as a chance to run off out the door. Trying to converse with an animal was crazy. Either this was some really elaborate prank video like the one your friend tries to show you, or you really needed to be checked for a concussion.

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As you run through the halls you try to take note of what you can see. Signs and posters have an unfamiliar script. You eventually reach a library, books left out in tables littered alongside forgotten notes, the letters remain unknown to you. The creature follows you yelling at you all the way. You try to ignore it. “⟊⎅⏚⏃☌⌇m☍⍙.” You turn the voice sounds new. Instead of another creature a man stands before you. He adorns peculiar clothing, his face cover with a mask resembling a bird. You take a step back as he keeps talking.”⋏⏃☍⏚⎍⏃⋏⍙-.” You cut him off abruptly, “excuse me but what are you saying, im afraid I don’t understand you.” His initial expression of annoyance shifts to confusion. Like with the creature, whatever you say seems to not register. You try again more panicked this time,” sorry but I’m really lost and I’m not sure what you’re saying.” You’re meet with another blank stare. You start to look around for anything to combat the meaning of your words. Grabbing a lone piece of paper and an abandoned pen you start to draw.

Your skills, however subpar they may be, are able to get the message across. You’re lost and you don’t know how you got here. From the man’s drawings you’re able to understand that it’s a school for magic? You take a step back, wary of the man even more. He must have hit his head as well.

Unfortunately he seems to be your best bet so you let him drag you back to the room you were in. No longer fully panicked you take a moment to look around, the room filled with students covered in robes. Robes that suspiciously look like a cult, but if you dwell on the peculiar uniform too long you may have a nervous breakdown before you’re able to get home. The man starts to speak to a mirror and before you can really question his sanity a face appears. You take a step back and then another as they speak, flames around the room rising. The man turns to face you gesturing for you to speak to the mirror.

“Hello mirror man thing, can you get me home as soon as possible.” You try to say it as nice as you can, the sooner you’re gone the better. The mirror its expression unchanging speaks,” ⏚⟟⏁☊⊑ ⍙⏁⎎ ⏃⍀⟒ ⊬⍜⎍ ⌇⏃⊬⟟⋏☌.” You stare at it the hope you held slipping away. Whispers break out around the halls and even if you wanted too, you can’t decipher them.

The creature, pops up in front of you and you help having forgotten it was there. It speaks with an animated demeanor, like it was trying to bargain. You watch in awe, if even an animal can speak why can’t you. You barely have anymore time to wonder before the thing gets angry and starts flinging fire everywhere. “What the fuck is going on im out of here.” You walk towards the door for the second time again, maybe this time you’ll escape successfully.

“What’s out the door that’s more interesting than what’s going on in here,” a voice calls out from behind you. “I’m getting out of here you can deal with this-” you cut yourself off and turn around quickly. “You know what I’m saying.” The figure in front of you smirks slightly. You study their black hair with streaks of magenta. They adorn a similar robe to others running around, but his stance remains playful. “I knew it so you do speak ******.” You stare at him and correct him politely,” I think you mean English, but how do you know my language no one else seems too.” He looks at you with perplexed amusement,” I could ask you the same thing, this English,” he says that last part slowly, the word foreign on his tongue. “I haven’t heard this language in years, now I don’t know where you’re from but the village that spoke this haven’t been around in centuries and you don’t look like a descendant.” He takes a step closer, “ perhaps you’re a ghost that’s possessed someone, but that villages resting grounds are very far from here.” You look at him in shock,“ I’m no ghost or some ancient thing, I’m just someone who wants to go home.” He simply sighs and asks you you’re homeland. But when you tell him he looks confused.

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Ch 1: She said, she said, she said, she’s from… where?

And like you try to teach them your stuff but now Ace is saying the absolute worst memes that you taught him because he begged you to tell him every meme that you knew

Same with Cater now he’s randomly mentioning the Cardi B vs Nicki beef and says he’s team Nicki even though nobody knows what the hell he’s talking about.

Premise: What happens to Ace after you go home under the promise you’ll come back.

Warnings:Ace x Reader song fic [Bon Bon Jellyfish Planet] hurt comfort I think

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외로운 해파리가 둥실 올려다본/ Lonely jellyfish, softly floating high

 “It’s only for a couple months Ace, I haven’t been home in a long time just let me have this,” was one of the last things you’d said to him before you entered that mirror . Of course you said some other things but he’d stop listening after that. How could he let this happen, for a minute he’d thought you’d never find a way home. And for a selfish moment he was glad that you hadn’t yet. But you were persistent, it’s what got you through the overbolts and it’s what got you to this moment. “Ace,” you say again, softer this time pulling him from his racing thoughts. “I’ll come back, promise, I’d miss you too much if I didn’t.” You smile awkwardly at him and he smiles back, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. The both of you hug and you wave before stepping into that mirror away from him.

친구들을 찾아 보글보글 여행/Searching for my friends, bubbling away

Classes are quieter now or at least it feels that way. A presence ripped away leaves the familiar routine feeling foreign. It’s easier to get to class when you’re not lazily walking over laughing the whole time. The others miss you as well, it’s difficult not having a friend waiting after practice or a club meeting. They find solace in each other, hanging out more often than before. It’s hard though, when the one that helped build those friendships disappears. But for Ace the silence is scary so if spending every afternoon with Deuce keeps it away he’ll keep doing it.

반짝, 반짝이며 나를 기다리는 내게 꼭 맞는 친구들이/Sparkling lights are waiting there for me friends who shine where I should be

For Ace the nights are the hardest.What used to be filled with hushed talking under covers is just an empty room now, the lights of phone calls no longer illuminating the walls. Night brings the silence he fears giving him time to reminisce about how he can no longer walk in certain halls, the memories there too strong. How that little patch of grass outside of the basketball facility reminds him of all the stolen kisses he took before a game. No matter how much he fights it, the heart remembers. It remembers how you laugh, even if he can’t hear it as often. It remembers how you held his hand while studying so he’d stop bothering you. Under the blanket of night where only the stars illuminate the room, reluctant tears hit a once shared pillow. Because how can a world you’re not even from remind him so much of you.

더는 혼잔 싫어 너를 찾아/I don't want to be alone, I’ll fly away

The only reason he goes to unbirthday parties anymore is because you liked them. He ignores the looks of pity as he sits where you used to, laughing along with everyone else. A loud crash interrupts the party as a familiar figure exits from the bushes. Before Riddle can get mad Ace rushes up to them, swooping them up into a hug as best he can. “I knew you’d like my surprise Ace, hope I wasn’t gone too long.”

외로움 가라 오지 말아 더/Go away, loneliness, don’t come back ever

The party continues after everyone says their greetings. It’s livelier now that you’re back, and for a moment everything’s alright again. Ace lays on your shoulder while you eat a slice of tart, listening to you talk about home. About how happy everyone was to see you again, thinking you’d be gone forever. “I mean it Ace, you wouldn’t believe how hard it was to tell everyone where I’d been. They all thought I’d gone crazy. I don’t think my friends believed me till they saw me enter the carriage to get back here. A few of them wanted me to stay but I had to come back to see you, unless you didn’t miss me.” Although you say that last part teasingly, Ace still freezes. You smile at him, assuring that you’d missed him as well. He smiles back, his grin finally meeting his eyes.

Ch 1: Duty as a Lady

Ch 1: Duty of a Lady

Synopsis: Royal au Bakugou x Reader; kingdoms of Batal [Deku’s] and Dawun [Bakugou’s] have been enemies for as long as anyone can remember. When you are arranged to wed Deku, Dawun decides to kidnap you to boost moral. Chaos insues

Warnings: I made this fic years ago so I wanted to upload it to appease younger me. This may be cringe but I’ve updated it best I can. Enjoy and if I mischaracterize let me know I have been into MHA for years.

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“Miss, please wake up. It’s time for breakfast.” You pull the sheets over, the silk embracing you especially tight this morning. “Miss please, they have your favorite.” That gets you up, lazily walking into the bathroom to freshen up before you meet the others for breakfast.

Walking past the garden on the way to the dining hall, you run into Sir Todoroki, a close and valued friend of yours, deep in thought. His father, head of the royal army, had lately been pressuring him to follow in his footsteps. You decide to ask him to walk with you to breakfast in an attempt to lift his spirits. “Good morning Shoto, care to walk with me for breakfast.” He smiles at you and nods, walking with you in silence, something rarely had at breakfast.

When you enter the room the sound of excited conversation, although bordering on yelling, hits your ears. “Oh [reader] come sit by me, I’ve saved you a place,” Lady Uruaka says, eagerly beckoning you over “If you had been gone another moment I’d have helped myself to your plate.” “Ochako, if you did that I don’t know if I could call you my friend anymore,” you say sitting down laughing all the while. You can’t help but notice Sir Iida glare at you teasingly,” Your love for food never ceases to amaze me Lady [l/n].” You laugh even harder at his remark,”Oh lighten up Tenya, I mean if food isn’t my everything I don’t know what is.” He lets out a chuckle and the conversation from before continues, falling into the everyday routine.

General:

Foreign Tongue

Heartslabyul:

Riddle-

Served Warm, Hastily Written

Ace-

Jellyfish Planet

Savanaclaw:

Leona-

Snow Grim or Lion

Scarabia:

Jamil-

September Flower[Series]

Diasomnia:

Lilia-

Dead Language [Series]

Drabbles/Ramblings: