linkemon

[linkemon]

Dura lex, sed lex (Neuvillette x Reader)

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you're interested.

Other oneshots can be found here. This oneshot was a collab with Agusia Szczygieł as a co-creator.

ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴘʜᴇᴄʏ ᴡᴀꜱ ꜰᴜʟꜰɪʟʟᴇᴅ, ᴄʜᴀɴɢɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴀᴛᴇ ᴏꜰ ꜰᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴᴇ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴄɪᴛʏ'ꜱ ʀᴇꜱɪᴅᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʀʏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴄᴏᴠᴇʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀɪꜱɪꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛ ᴀɴᴇᴡ. ᴛᴏ ᴄᴇʟᴇʙʀᴀᴛᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛᴜʀɴɪɴɢ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ, ʟᴀᴅʏ ꜰᴜʀɪɴᴀ ɪɴᴠɪᴛᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇʟɪᴛᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ʙᴀʟʟ, ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴇᴀ: ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ ꜰᴏᴀᴍ, ꜱʜɪᴍᴍᴇʀɪɴɢ ꜱʜᴇʟʟꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴀɴᴄɪɴɢ ꜰɪꜱʜ ꜱʏᴍʙᴏʟɪᴢɪɴɢ ᴊᴏʏ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰʀᴇᴇᴅᴏᴍ. ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴀɪʀʏ-ᴛᴀʟᴇ ꜱᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ʟɪᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ᴍᴏᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴠᴇɴɪɴɢ – ᴍᴜʀᴅᴇʀ. [ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ] ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴇᴜᴠɪʟʟᴇᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜᴀʟʟᴇɴɢᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴜɴᴄᴏᴠᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍʏꜱᴛᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ, ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʟᴀᴡ ᴄʟᴀꜱʜᴇꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴇᴀʀꜱ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛꜱ ᴀᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴅɪꜰꜰɪᴄᴜʟᴛ ᴅɪʟᴇᴍᴍᴀꜱ. “ᴅᴜʀᴀ ʟᴇx, ꜱᴇᴅ ʟᴇx” – ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴀʀꜱʜ ʟᴀᴡ, ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ᴜɴʏɪᴇʟᴅɪɴɢ, ᴇᴄʜᴏᴇꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ᴘᴀꜱꜱɪᴏɴꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴀɪɴꜰᴜʟ ᴄʜᴏɪᴄᴇꜱ.

[Reader] listened carefully to the sounds coming from the main hall. The melody of the string quartet signaled that the right moment had arrived. The golden frame of the mirror reflected the glow of several chandeliers. The woman glanced one last time at her reflection in the massive mirror. Chiori would never forgive her if she didn’t look absolutely flawless.

She adjusted a loose strand of hair and slowly began descending the stairs. She had to admit, though the preparations took a long time, it was worth it. Just as her persistent effort to have Clorinde assign her the role of an unusual countess – the sister of the palace's owner – had been. She appreciated her efforts even more when, gliding down the stairs covered in a navy carpet, she saw the guests’ expressions. She had no doubt her silhouette stood out perfectly against the background.

Furina, playing the hostess, descended first and joined the pair of eyes staring at her. She gave her a discreet signal by releasing a water bubble – meaning it was her moment.

– Together with my sister, we warmly welcome all of you. It is an honor to see such a large and distinguished gathering. We encourage you to dance to the baton of our magnificent conductor. – She pointed to the musicians. – We also invite you to the tables. We promise nothing will be missing and we hope this ball will provide you with unforgettable experiences! – She winked at the guests.

The assembled guests laughed, with the true motive of the event in mind.

[Reader] flowed down the stairs – at least that’s the impression everyone present had, if Chiori was to be believed. Her blue gown resembled the stormy sea; the fabric shimmered in shades from light to dark, and it seemed to sway involuntarily. Here and there, shells and imitations of seaweed glimmered, winding around a sheer netting above her thigh, resembling fishing nets from a distance. Cascades of tulle enveloped the whole, concealing leather slippers.

She blew a persistent curl off her forehead. The updo held her hair firmly but the strands she left loose lived their own life.

The scene at the bottom made her pause a second longer than she should have.

– Mademoiselle [Reader] – a familiar, deep voice greeted her at the foot of the stairs.

– Monsieur Neuvillette – she replied.

There was no mistake. The judicial regalia had been replaced with a specially tailored outfit for the occasion. The white shirt resembled restless sea foam, while the dark, shimmering pants and corset looked strikingly similar to her gown – as if he had immersed himself in the depths. His hair was neatly tied with a clever bow.

[Reader] would have sworn his outfit was made from the exact same fabric as hers. This could not be a coincidence.

Neuvillette extended his hand. [Reader] placed hers on it, feeling the gentle brush of his lips. He slowly lifted his head, his gaze once again sweeping over her figure.

– You look stunning, Countess.

– Thank you. – [Reader] curtseyed gracefully.

– It’s a pleasure to see my creations on the right people.

Chiori squeezed her way through the crowd surrounding her guests. She looked like a treasure chest resting on a sandy bottom. Her golden gown, adorned with crystal imitations, radiated an aura of power and wealth – the role she had been assigned required an appropriate image. After all, she was the owner of a luxurious silk industry.

– I wanted to thank you again. – [Reader] turned in her creation. – Placing an order with the countess has always been my dream.

– I won’t say I was skeptical but I admit, I wasn’t sure I could manage to fulfill another order in such a short time. You can thank a certain count in this room. He convinced me to give it a try.

Chiori gave the judge a meaningful look. She rarely saw him at the threshold of her boutique, let alone asking her to consider making a dress in record time when she was overwhelmed with orders. She was known for her strictness and treating all customers equally, regardless of their status. However, when she heard about [Reader]'s dream – to become a fairy tale princess for just one night instead of being Arpenteur des Crimes – her heart softened. Every girl wanted this at least once in her life...

Clorinde agreed to assign [Reader] the appropriate role and Furina promised to cover the costs of the outfits for all the important guests. How could she refuse?

Chiori wasn’t sure if the fabric would be enough but Neuvillette had announced that he was willing to give up some of his. So, for the past week, she had sewn nonstop until the ball. To this day, she didn’t know how she managed to make two creations from a single roll of silk. She had to admit, however, the end result was breathtaking.

Firstly, the whole hall turned to look at the people dressed in her creations. Secondly – Neuvillette looked at [Reader] as if she had hung stars in the sky. And that wasn’t a gaze she saw often.

– Then, thank you both. – A sincere smile appeared on [Reader]'s face.

– You must show it while dancing. – Chiori threw a meaningful glance at the judge.

But before Neuvillette could react, a new guest joined their group.

– Did someone mention dancing? Then I invite you to dance. – The newly arrived man extended his hand towards [Reader].

The woman hesitated. She had quietly hoped to have her first dance with someone else but refusal in this situation would be rude – especially since she had agreed to play a part of the hostess for the evening.

In the end, she accepted Count Soleil’s invitation and headed to the center of the dance floor, sending Neuvillette one last glance. He watched her.

– She won’t wait forever – Chiori remarked as her true, direct nature came to the surface.

– She won’t have to – Neuvillette replied with calm determination.

He then invited the wealthy countess to dance. Chiori wasn’t here for the dancing but she could endure this one. For the greater good.

They slowly moved across the ballroom, trying to get closer to [Reader] and her partner. Chiori had to admit, watching the interactions between the young detective and the judge was quite amusing.

Meanwhile, [Reader] was circling the dance floor with Count Soleil, who held her at the waist. She didn’t know him well; she could only say she recognized him. His picture had flashed before her a few times when she reviewed the guest list and their roles. She hadn’t memorized them. According to Clorinde, it was enough to know who was who.

Count Soleil, unlike the character played by Chiori, was genuinely wealthy. [Reader] had heard he owned an apartment in one of the most luxurious districts of Fontaine. How he made his fortune? She had no idea. However, his manners and way of speaking gave off an air of superiority.

– …excellent caviar but of course…

His words blurred somewhere between the lines. Maybe it would be easier for her to focus on the conversation if Count Soleil hadn’t been constantly stepping on her feet. She looked at his large shoes and concluded that he wasn’t a very good dancer.

That’s why Neuvillette was such a blessing. Even standing across the room, he didn’t take his eyes off her. And when the song finally came to an end, he was the first to invite her to the next dance; she greeted him with immense relief.

What a different experience this was! Neuvillette seemed to fulfill her dream – he looked like a fairy tale prince. She felt that this evening belonged to her.

She allowed herself to weave a story. It was hard not to when Neuvillette spun her around to the music and the world turned into a cascade of light from crystal chandeliers. Through the noise of conversations, the clinking of glasses and the tapping of slippers stood out.

[Reader] took step by step, gliding among the tulle expanses and the deep blue hues. The melody played by the quartet slowed. Neuvillette squeezed her hand a little tighter. She allowed her waist to come closer to him. She also dared to tilt her head up. The judge sent her a soft smile, as if they were sharing an unspoken secret. He radiated calm, yet made the butterflies in her stomach flutter.

Suddenly, his violet eyes lingered on her lips a fraction of a second longer than they should have. The distance between them dangerously diminished. [Reader] felt the scent of sea breeze. Surprised, she blinked several times, and then, when the strings touched the notes one last time, she saw disappointment on his familiar face.

With regret, she slipped out of his warm, strong arms.

That’s when she spotted Navia, standing near one of the tables. The blonde woman waved energetically at her. The queen of social gossip had clearly immersed herself in her role. [Reader] had no choice but to head towards her. However, she was glad when Neuvillette offered her his arm.

The elegant table was decorated with draped fabric that flowed lightly over mahogany wood. On it, a pile of delicacies towered, and in the center stood a chocolate fountain – with a hint of sea salt flavour, in line with the event's theme.

Between the culinary frenzy and the dancing, waiters circulated with glasses of champagne and wine; the guests standing next to Navia reached for the red drink.

– Baron Étoile and Countess Luna – Navia introduced them.

Her outfit resembled a ship. The brown fabric looked like wooden planking, and the golden embellishments, focused in the center, suggested a hidden interior. For the woman, like a ship in its hold, carried secrets – hidden from unwanted guests.

– A pleasure to meet you – Neuvillette remarked.

– How do you find the party? – [Reader] winked conspiratorially.

– Oh, to be honest, I haven’t focused on the entertainment so far – the tall woman replied, glancing at her companion. – But of course, we are both waiting for the murd... umm...

– For the surprise – Étoile smoothly corrected her.

The main theme of the party, aside from the treacherous ocean waters, was supposed to be a murder. Clorinde initially feared it might be too dramatic of a season opener but Lady Furina had given her no choice. She considered the idea absolutely, divinely tragic and believed the guests would eagerly throw themselves into the investigation, especially when they themselves became participants and witnesses. A theatrical move – in Lady Furina’s opinion. She couldn’t have dreamed of a better one, so she spared no expense on the organization.

– You absolutely must join the dance floor – Neuvillette remarked, addressing the woman dressed in a moon-white gown.

– I beg your pardon but I already have a partner – Lady Luna replied shyly, concealing her face behind a fan.

– Of course – he nodded, wanting to show that he meant something else. – I, too, have a partner for the evening. The only one I wish to dance with – he added, glancing at [Reader].

The young detective smiled at him but suddenly her attention was caught by one of the guests. She hadn’t expected to see Count Soleil so soon but the man skillfully pushed his way through the crowd – only to whisper a few words and take the countess away from before their eyes. Brown locks disappeared in a flurry. Despite earlier assurances of her one, ideal dancer, Lady Luna didn’t even look back.

Meanwhile, the baron stared at her in horror. Once she was out of their sight, he nervously adjusted his suit.

– Trouble in paradise? – Navia remarked, glancing meaningfully over her glass.

– I beg your pardon – Étoile said, rushing towards the dancing pairs.

– They are in love but he doesn’t have enough wealth. – Navia looked longingly towards the dance floor. – Romantic and tragic at the same time but how very life-like, don’t you think?

– What exactly are you suggesting, master of gossip? – [Reader] asked, coming to the conclusion that, despite the theatrical backdrop, she was indeed intrigued by the story of the two.

– Luna currently holds her title only for the sake of our game but it doesn’t stray far from her family’s desires. Some years ago, her father made a fortune in foreign trade. Naturally, the tight-knit aristocratic circle, steeped in luxury, had no intention of inviting this nouveau riche into their ranks. Luna’s father put in considerable effort to ensure that the doors to mansions and palaces would open to him. To complete his success, all he needed was a noble title. He tried to buy it through various means, though of course, you didn’t hear this from me. – Navia smiled conspiratorially. – However, he didn’t succeed. Ultimately, he concluded that the only path to it was marriage. Divorce wasn’t an option, as his wife is in good health, and besides, in certain circles, he would surely be condemned for that. So he had one last hope – his only daughter. Over the years, he prepared her to enter the highest salons through an arranged marriage. The perfect, flawless wife with boundless fortune – ideal for a wealthy man who possesses what Luna’s father could never acquire: noble blood.

Sympathy appeared on [Reader]’s face.

– And what about Étoile?

– He works as a clerk in the Palais Mermonia. I’ve never heard any complaints about him from his superiors. However, I suspect that for a family striving to reach the highest echelons, a man without fortune, a brilliant career or a noble title doesn’t make a good match – Neuvillette replied. The wine in his glass swirled as he took a sip.

Navia placed a tartlet on her plate, then bit into the flaky pastry.

– I heard they met when he gave her private law lessons.

– How tragic. They love each other but they can’t be together. All because of family. – This whole story reminded [Reader] of one of the romantic novels Lady Furina once staged. – Romantic, yet so sad…

Her sympathy must have become visible, for she felt a warm, soothing touch on her hand; Neuvillette’s fingers – cold, yet so gentle – rested on her skin, lingering there for a moment as brief as the flutter of a butterfly’s wings.

– Everyone seems to be scattered – Clorinde’s voice cut through the atmosphere like the edge of a blade. She didn’t look pleased.

Her task was to ensure that all key points of the evening were properly ticked off. Her experience as the Game Master was unmatched throughout Fontaine. Therefore, dressed in a dark uniform – playing the role of a palace guard – she moved among the guests, checking if everything was proceeding according to plan.

– Lyney and Lynette are about to start their performance – Clorinde announced urgently. – Countess Navia should move closer to the crowd. May I escort you? – she offered, extending her arm.

The string quartet stopped playing, heading for their well-deserved break. The dancing couples slowly parted to create space for the magical performance of the twins. Many guests headed toward the tables. The break brought a subtle change in the atmosphere.

Neuvillette seemed as though he was about to say something but he was not given the chance. [Reader] didn’t notice the moment she lost her balance. She was unexpectedly shoved, and before she could understand what was happening, something cold and wet splashed over her.

– My deepest apologies – came Luna’s apologetic voice. Unaware of what she had done, the woman quickly moved away toward the stairs. Her heels clicked behind her, filling the room with a hollow echo.

[Reader] looked down, her heart freezing. On her beautiful, intricately chosen gown bloomed a stain. The dark red wine contrasted mercilessly against the blue fabric.

– Oh no – she groaned quietly.

The people around her glanced at the commotion. They looked for a moment at her misfortune, before quickly looking away, embarrassed by their ungraceful behaviour and pretending indifference. However, it was not their gazes that hurt the most but the fact that the evening of her dreams had been ruined. How was she supposed to play the role of the hostess now and stand in the spotlight, announcing the twins’ performance alongside Lady Furina?

Neuvillette regretted not bringing his jacket. The one he wore every day. At least he could have tried to cover the stain. He glanced once more critically at [Reader]’s gown. He had no other choice…

– Huh? – [Reader] didn’t immediately register that she had been lifted. – What is the Count doing? – She hesitantly wrapped her arms around his neck.

– Improvising – he whispered softly, carrying her in his arms. – The Countess will return soon… after a scandalous abduction – he finished uncertainly, glancing at the guests pretending not to care. From afar, he spotted Chiori’s approving gaze, Navia’s shocked face, Furina’s euphoric smile and Clorinde’s murderous expression.

The stain was carefully hidden between the folds of the material at [Reader]’s hem. She had no idea what to do with it now or what she should focus on but the gentle swaying and the familiar scent of the sea gave her a sense of security. Maybe for this one evening, she didn’t have to worry about anything? Neuvillette not only looked like a fairytale prince but practically was one, when determined to play his role, he swept her away from trouble.

After a while, she nestled into him, feeling his white hair tips brush against her face.

– What am I going to do now? I’ll be ruined in the eyes of the entire society – [Reader] joked.

– Hmmm… Let’s think about how to remedy this scandal… I think the most sensible thing would be a quick marriage – Neuvillette replied with a twinkle in his eye.

– An impertinent proposal! Is the Count suggesting that he would be a worthy candidate?

– In my eyes, no one is worthy of the Countess but I’d like to believe that I surpass the others.

– Oh, really? – [Reader] asked with a teasing tone. – Well… the Count is not far from the truth – she whispered, still nestled against his chest.

When Neuvillette gently set her down on the stone bench beneath the marble pavilion, it crossed her mind how much she regretted how short that moment had felt. The night was pleasantly warm. The sweet scent of flowers hung in the air and the white-blue petals occasionally drifted just behind Neuvillette, who knelt before her puffy gown. With the help of hydro, he cleaned the stain; tiny water molecules climbed up the decorative fabric, gathering the red wine. His power gently brightened the surrounding darkness, giving it an unusual appearance.

The judge lifted his head and met [Reader]’s gaze full of admiration. He had no doubt that the blush on her cheeks was his doing. If any doubts had lingered about the mutuality of her feelings, they were dispelled at that moment. He gently tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. [Reader] caught his hand, which had frozen on her cheek.

It was to this woman that Neuvillette had given his heart. A dragon’s heart, which had fallen slowly, but faithfully. He gathered his thoughts. This was the moment he had been waiting for. He opened his mouth but the silence was cut through by a horrifying scream, which interrupted their intimate moment with cruel mercilessness. Neuvillette and [Reader] froze for a moment.

– We should check this out. It’s better not to disrupt the game with further improvisation – [Reader] said, convinced that the scream was part of the script devised by Clorinde and Furina.

Neuvillette accepted this argument and nodded, offering her his arm.

– Let’s go then. It seems to me the scream came from the garden.

[Reader] adjusted her gown one last time before leaning on the strong arm of her companion, more out of a need of the heart than an actual necessity.

Without further delay, they left their secluded corner, heading for the exit to the terrace as suggested by Neuvillette. The air around them seemed palpably tense but this time not because of suppressed emotions but because of the circumstances they found themselves in.

Murder. That was the true motive behind the party. It was no secret to any of the invited guests, yet [Reader] felt an inner, difficult-to-rationalize unease. The scream they had heard sounded particularly realistic. So much so that she still got chills on her back at the mere thought of it.

But perhaps she was overthinking it? The role of the crime victim could have been given to someone from Lady Furina’s theater troupe and such a person wouldn’t find it difficult to authentically perform a scene like that, right?

Yes, surely that was it – she reassured herself, involuntarily squeezing Neuvillette’s arm. He caught her gaze and smiled slightly, as if assuring her she wasn’t alone in all of this. She didn’t know how he did it but in every situation, he could calm her nerves with even the smallest gesture. She wanted to believe that she affected him in a similar way.

When they finally reached the hall, they noticed that the garden doors were wide open. They stepped outside, meeting the moonlight that had managed to break through the granite clouds for a moment. The surroundings, which [Reader] would have previously described as cozy, now filled her with unease. The harmony and peace that the lush animal-shaped bushes and beautiful, colourful flowers had brought were now subdued by an ominous silence, broken only by the rustling of leaves.

Suddenly, she shifted her gaze to a spot more gently illuminated by the pale moonlight, where beneath the great oak tree lay Count Soleil. Motionless, with closed eyes and not even the slightest twitch at any sound.

Here it was — the awaited murder.

Though they weren’t the first to find the body…

– Ah, monsieur Neuvillette and mademoiselle [Reader]! Please see what I’ve found!

Albert was pacing near the motionless body of Count Soleil, gesturing energetically. [Reader] had never seen her colleague from Palais Mermonia so excited, even when she had bought him his dream tea set. At least that was how she had wanted to repay him for recommending her to monsieur Neuvillette two years ago. The memories were still vivid, though they had passed since then, yet [Reader] didn’t let them resurface behind her eyelids. After all, they were at the crime scene, involved in a game they should treat seriously.

– A very tragic discovery – Neuvillette replied in a tone perfectly familiar to the citizens of Fontaine, quite different from the soft voice [Reader] had heard whenever they were alone in a room. – You will undoubtedly be an important witness in this case.

– Exactly! Isn’t it exciting? I didn’t think my role would be so important!

– You will certainly provide many key pieces of information. I’m afraid, however, that you will also be the first suspect in this matter.

– What? – Albert stopped mid-third round around the body. – No, it wasn’t me. I swear!

As Albert tried to explain, more guests started arriving in the garden. [Reader] observed the faces of the gathered, carefully noting how each person reacted to the discovered body. In the game, she might have gotten the role of a simple countess but in real life, she worked as an Arpenteur des Crimes, and looking for clues was second nature to her. She immediately noticed Furina’s flushed face, Navia’s pensive expression and Clorinde’s furrowed brow, but it was the latter’s reaction that gave [Reader] the most significant clue, almost confirming her own suspicions.

The prolonged silence was as thick as the fog enveloping the garden until Neuvillette’s voice – firm yet full of care – interrupted the growing unease:

– Before we begin questioning, I suggest we move inside. The more people on the crime scene, the greater the chance that some evidence will be destroyed or overlooked. I will personally examine everything and share my observations with you in the hall, if you have no objections.

A quiet murmur of approval passed through the crowd; no one was keen to stay out in the cold or argue with the judge, who was considered a symbol of justice even during a game.

As the rest of the guests returned inside, [Reader] stayed by Neuvillette’s side. They hadn’t agreed on this. They didn’t need to. It was as natural as the stars accompanying the moon at night.

– You noticed it too, didn’t you? – She gathered the material of her voluminous skirt to kneel beside him on the grass. This time, she didn’t care if any stains appeared on the blue fabric, as they were dealing with something far more serious than an innocent murder mystery game. – This is a real corpse.

– Unfortunately… The scream we heard was probably the last sound he made.

They both looked up. The balcony with its intricately decorated railing was empty but they didn’t doubt for a second that it was from there that Count Soleil had fallen.

[Reader] glanced once more at the aristocrat’s body. His stillness contrasted with the violent scream and almost intrusive mannerisms from earlier. Yet no one deserved to become the true victim of a game that was supposed to relax them after the recent crisis and the tragic fate of their Hydro Archon.

– Do you think it was an accident?

Neuvillette’s voice snapped [Reader] out of her thoughts. She cast one last glance at the body before standing up, brushing the grass off her dress.

– If it was, you wouldn’t have arranged it so we’d be left alone in the garden – she replied, unable to stop herself from giving a slight smile. – Though I do think it was an accident. I doubt anyone would have planned such a clumsy murder.

– So we agree on both points. Fortunately, we managed to prevent the guests from getting too close to the body. They didn’t trample the evidence, though it’s obvious that the smaller tracks belong to Albert: they are fresh and distinct. The larger ones lead to the door beneath the balcony.

[Reader] nodded. That was the first detail she had noticed.

– Did the count have anything in his pockets?

– Only the party brochure from Lady Furina and a leather wallet.

– And his left hand? It looks like he’s holding something.

Neuvillette frowned slightly. He leaned over the body again and opened the count’s clenched fist, in which something white was clenched.

– It’s a piece of torn fabric. It looks like silk.

– Maybe Chiori can tell us more about this – [Reader] suggested.

They discussed the rest of the potential clues but none were solid enough to point to the culprit. They then decided how much of the information they would share with the others before returning to the ballroom. Every moment of delay posed a risk that one of the guests might become suspicious. They couldn't risk a panic breaking out, as it would reduce the chances of catching the real murderer.

– Let’s establish a few facts – Neuvillette began once he finished presenting the information they had gathered in the garden. – Surely each of us has seen something that could shed new light on this tragedy. I’ll speak to each of you individually in a private room, so please, don’t hesitate to share your observations.

Naturally, Albert was the first to be questioned. With a slight tremor in his voice, he still tried to explain his presence near the body:

– I swear, I have nothing to hide, monsieur Neuvillette. I’m a terrible liar, you know that. I wouldn’t want us to lose this game because of me.

– Nothing like that will happen if we look at the whole… game carefully – Neuvillette agreed.

[Reader] sat beside him, shifting her gaze from one man to the other. She had no doubt about Albert’s innocence and could say the same about her companion. Even if they didn’t know Albert personally, their experience would not suggest that the culprit would remain at the scene of an unplanned crime.

– Tell us everything you saw or heard – she asked, noticing that Albert seemed to relax a bit when he focused on her.

– Honestly, there’s not much… I was standing near the garden entrance. I wanted to get some fresh air and clear my mind before the show began. Now that I think about it… I think I heard an argument. I’m not sure… The music was quite loud, but that’s when I heard the scream. Did you hear it too? It was short but sharp. Count Soleil played his part perfectly. It sounded so real that you might believe he really fell from the balcony.

– Did you notice anything else? Anything that caught your attention when you entered the garden?

– No, I don’t think so… I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have thought it was murder if it hadn’t been for the theme of the party. Count Soleil was completely still the entire time. I didn’t know if I was allowed to touch him… I thought about it and then I saw you. That’s all.

– Thank you, Albert.

Once the man left, [Reader] leaned back and rested on the cushions, trying to sort her thoughts. Although Albert’s testimony shed new light on the mysterious incident in the garden, the picture of the murder remained unclear.

She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she barely noticed when Neuvillette extended his hand, gently touching her shoulder.

– Don’t worry. Together, we’ll find the culprit – he whispered.

[Reader] looked at him, and the corners of her lips lifted involuntarily. She wasn’t afraid that the mystery would be too difficult to solve; she had dealt with worse cases in her career. The real reason for her concern was having to question colleagues and friends, whose innocence she didn’t want to undermine, which conflicted with the nature of her job. She greatly appreciated Neuvillette’s support, without which she would feel much worse about the situation.

The next person to be questioned was Clorinde, whose face, though composed, betrayed some unease. She sat on the sofa opposite [Reader] and Neuvillette, where the soft light of the lamp illuminated the lines of her furrowed brows.

– Is something wrong, Clorinde? – [Reader] began politely. – Is the game not going according to plan?

– You don’t have to pretend with me. I’m the game master, and I know who was supposed to play the role of the murdered guest: it wasn’t Count Soleil, and it shouldn’t have happened in the garden. We’re dealing with a real murder. I understand your intentions but I’m still not entirely convinced that withholding the truth is a good decision.

Neuvillette and [Reader] exchanged a knowing look. For a brief moment, there was silence in the room until Neuvillette moved slowly, clasping his hands on his lap.

– We haven’t tried to hide the truth. We simply don’t want to cause panic among the guests.

– Or scare off the culprit before we gather enough evidence – [Reader] added.

Clorinde fixed them with a sharp gaze, as if evaluating whether they were truly being reasonable or hiding desperation. [Reader] knew her too well not to notice the tension in her posture.

– Of course, that’s understandable – Clorinde finally replied, relaxing slightly. – I’ll help you.

– Thank you. Can you start by telling us who was actually supposed to be the victim and who the murderer was?

– The murderer was supposed to be Lady Furina, and the victim was Ginette – the actress from the theater troupe. Lady Furina asked me to assign them those roles before I started designing the structure of the game, so they also need to know that something went wrong. Especially since the murder was supposed to take place in the library. Count Soleil was just another guest.

The case was beginning to take on an even darker tone. [Reader] felt an uncomfortable chill creeping from her neck to the base of her spine. Someone among them had committed a real murder, fully aware that everyone would assume it was part of the game. Still, she leaned toward the assumption that the crime in the garden hadn’t been planned. Too many clues pointed to that.

She glanced discreetly at Neuvillette, who had slightly reclined on the couch. The light from the lamp danced in his violet eyes as he pondered the new information.

– Someone must have been with him on the balcony – he said at last, his piercing and clear amethyst eyes returning to Clorinde. – Were you in the library before the scream? Did you start your plan according to the game?

– No, we didn’t manage to. I was there, waiting for the first signal but before I heard it, the scream reached us. So, I didn’t have a chance to see anything, just like Lady Furina and Ginette.

– That means the murderer took advantage of the moment just before the game started. Everyone was busy waiting for the first event and didn’t pay attention to something that looked like part of the performance.

– If the murderer had been with us from the start, they had to act quickly and precisely. Which means they not only had a motive but also a plan.

– Or they improvised – [Reader] interrupted, reaching for the glass of wine that was next to her. However, she didn’t drink it; she only swirled the liquid in the glass, contemplating the scent of the alcohol that clung to the Count. – The crime scene is messy and full of traces. The culprit is either very confident or killed in a fit of rage. Personally, I lean more toward the second option… But it’s all a matter of time. Chiori might help us clarify a few things. Will you invite her to join us?

Clorinde nodded, and soon after, Chiori arrived in the study. She gave a delicate nod and sat opposite Neuvillette and [Reader]. She fixed her dark eyes on them, immediately cutting off any unnecessary explanations.

– You don’t need to explain everything to me. If I understand correctly, there’s been a murder. A real murder. However, I must warn you that I didn’t see much and I heard the scream while I was in the bathroom.

– We called you for a different reason than to give testimony – Neuvillette quickly replied, adjusting to Chiori’s specific tone. – The Count was holding a piece of fabric in his hand. Clearly belonging to someone else but we can’t say much more. Maybe you can shed some light on this part of the mystery?

Chiori reached for the fabric. [Reader] hastily passed it to her, deeply convinced that the seamstress would provide them with crucial information. Her body was tense as she watched Chiori’s careful inspection, who examined the fabric from all sides, checking its colour under the light and feeling the smoothness of the silk between her fingers.

– I recognize this fabric – she finally announced, sparking the first spark under the pile of the culprit. – The last time I used it was two weeks ago. I remember perfectly because I made a matching set for a couple. The same as for you.

– Could you check the register for whom the set was made? – Neuvillette asked.

– I could but it won’t be necessary. I remember perfectly who I made that set for. The suit is on the corpse in the garden and the dress was for his fiancée – Luna de La Rocque.

– That… is an unexpected turn of events. It looks like Lady Luna was a witness to the murder or even the murderer herself.

– I don’t think so. The fabric is torn – [Reader] interrupted, pointing to the piece of white fabric that Chiori was holding. – If Lady Luna was the one who pushed the Count off the balcony, she should have fallen with him. It’s quite unlikely that a woman of such a delicate frame could have escaped from the grasp of a fully capable man. Not to mention that there were traces of men’s shoes leading from the body to the balcony. Lady Luna was certainly a witness to the crime but I suspect that this mysterious man is the real culprit.

– Then let us call Lady Luna for questioning. We know enough to present the evidence and convince her to testify.

Neuvillette fixed his gaze on [Reader], as if waiting for her confirmation. When she nodded, he escorted Chiori and asked Clorinde, who was standing by the door, to bring Lady Luna. Just like before the duels, Clorinde did not hesitate to follow the judge’s order: unwavering, swift, and confident in every action. After just a few breaths, they heard the sound of approaching footsteps, followed by the clink of the doorknob.

Lady Luna entered slowly, with the expression of someone walking to the guillotine. Her long, white gown fluttered with each step but it didn’t escape [Reader]’s notice that the fabric was somewhat wrinkled. Had the woman not had time to fix it, or perhaps, amidst the overwhelming emotions, she hadn’t even noticed? But what caused the most confusion was the men’s jacket that covered the upper part of Lady Luna’s dress.

The late Count Soleil’s attire had no missing elements, so whose jacket was Lady Luna wearing?

– You called for me – she said in a quiet, barely audible voice.

[Reader] noticed the tension in the aristocrat's muscles and the trembling of her hands, which instinctively stirred a thread of sympathy within her. Remembering the story Navia had told her, she couldn’t ignore the obvious motives and the final explanation of the case.

– Thank you for coming, Lady Luna – Neuvillette began in a calm tone as the woman sat in the same place as all the previously questioned individuals. – We would like to discuss the events of that night.

Lady Luna’s gaze briefly scanned the table where a scrap of fabric lay, then met [Reader]'s eyes. The young detective tried to show compassion and offer Luna comfort but at the same time, she couldn’t ignore the flash of panic, perhaps even fear, she noticed in her hazel eyes before she quickly turned her gaze away.

– Of course – she replied softly. – If I can help in any way…

Neuvillette leaned slightly forward, his voice calm and matter-of-fact, offering no reason to assume he was accusing the woman of anything. With respect and grace, he gave her the space to freely answer.

– Let’s start with your fiancé. When was the last time you saw him?

– In the garden, monsieur. That’s when it became clear he was playing the role of the victim.

– I meant, when did you last see him alive? Was it not when he tore a piece of your dress?

Luna raised her eyes, her slender fingers tightening around her knees.

– What are you talking about, monsieur?

– We found it in your fiancé’s hand – [Reader] spoke, carefully observing the woman’s reaction to the snow-white fabric in her hand. – Lady Chiori confirmed that it belongs to you.

– That’s impossible. Count Soleil… I mean… my fiancé had no reason to attack me.

– Really? – Neuvillette rested his hands on the table. – Lady Luna, we know you were on the balcony with the Count that night. We know he didn’t fall by himself.

Luna flinched as though slapped. Her breath quickened, her pupils slightly dilated.

After a brief moment of shock, she shook her head.

– I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t hurt him.

– But someone you know did, didn’t they? – [Reader] asked.

Lady Luna froze. Tears began to gather in her eyes. She trembled as if struck by the sudden thought that everything was over and turned her gaze away, clenching her hands into fists.

– It was an accident…

– Tell us everything – [Reader] gently urged.

Luna took a shaky breath. When she looked at them, her eyes – shiny with tears–  were filled with pain.

– My fiancé… Count Soleil… he wasn’t a good man – she began quietly. – I agreed to the marriage but under duress. I had no real choice. My family has debts. Very, very large debts… Count Soleil was aware of our situation and was willing to take me without a dowry if we married this month. But I never loved him and frankly, I never even tried to love him. I already had a lover but unfortunately, not as wealthy as the Count, so my parents didn’t allow us to be together. And Ètoile… this may sound naïve, like I’ve read too many books but I feel that he is the love of my life. We have been in love with each other for years. That feeling is too strong for it to be overshadowed by common sense. I knew what my family expected from me and what the situation with the Count was, and yet I couldn’t stop meeting with Ètoile. I realized that if the Count found out, he would take revenge on Ètoile. But it’s like expecting us to stop breathing. You can cover your mouth but sooner or later your lungs will start burning and screaming for the next breath.

A brief silence followed as Luna, overwhelmed by her own confession, fixed her gaze on the table. Her hands began to nervously clutch the edge of her gown.

[Reader] paused for a moment. Luna and Ètoile’s dramatic story sounded like a love between stars, shining toward each other from a distance but unable to meet. Full of sympathy, she leaned toward Luna and took her trembling hands in hers, smiling gently. Comforted by this gesture, the woman continued her dramatic tale.

– After the last dance, Count Soleil found me on the balcony. He was… furious. He said he saw us. He knew about Ètoile. That if I ever looked at him that way again, he would destroy him. – Crystal-clear tears streamed down her pale cheeks. – Then he started grabbed me. I couldn’t break free; his fingers dug into my arm… it hurt so much… I begged him to stop but he just laughed. And then Ètoile saw it… I don’t know where he came from. Maybe he was looking for me, maybe he sensed something… but suddenly, he was just there, by my side. Just like always… He grabbed the Count and yelled at him to let me go but Soleil wouldn’t listen. He told him not to interfere. He said no one would dare oppose him, that Ètoile had no power and then… Ètoile pushed him. He didn’t want to kill him, I swear! He just tried to free me! But he shoved him too hard and Soleil staggered… he tried to grab onto something but the force was too much and… he fell. We didn’t plan this – Luna sobbed, rubbing her tear-streaked face with her hands, as if wanting to erase the memory from her mind. – It wasn’t supposed to end this way…

Luna’s words hung heavily in the air: they carried grief, despair, and the echo of a love that had no right to survive in a world full of obligations and conventions, yet somehow managed to sprout and bloom. But fate still tried to destroy it, separating them by sentencing Ètoile to murder and banishing him to the Fortress of Meropide. Everyone in the room knew this but they collectively stayed silent, listening only to Luna’s broken breaths.

Finally, Neuvillette’s deep sigh broke the silence.

– Thank you, Lady Luna – he said in a serious tone, offering her a comforting smile. – It’s impossible not to notice the pain that torments you, and I assure you, I will not underestimate the significance of this tragedy. Love, especially the kind that has to fight against fate, is both the strongest and most fragile. I understand how great a blow this is for you. However, duty forces me to remind you that truth and justice cannot be overlooked, no matter how great the suffering of those affected. We must conduct a full investigation and judge Monsieur Ètoile according to the law. I will, however, do everything in my power to ensure that such a tragedy never happens again.

Luna lifted her tear-filled eyes to Neuvillette. Her gaze expressed something between hope and resignation. She sighed quietly and lowered her gaze.

– I understand… – she whispered after a moment. Every subsequent word seemed like she was battling within her heart: – I know you must remain impartial, Monsieur Neuvillette, and that justice cannot be swayed by emotions. But… – she trembled, taking a broken breath – if love truly means nothing in the face of the law, then what is our humanity worth?

Silence once again filled the room. Neuvillette remained quiet for a long moment, but [Reader] noticed his gaze soften, as though Lady Luna’s question had affected him more deeply than he wanted to admit.

– Sometimes I wonder about that too… – he replied softly, looking toward the tall window, behind which dark clouds were gathering. – Where does the law end and the heart begin? Can human feelings be weighed on the scale of justice without falsifying its weight? I would like to believe that these matters do not have to be mutually exclusive. – He turned back to look at the tear-streaked face of the woman. – I understand your pain, Lady Luna, and although I cannot change the verdict, I can assure you that your story will not be reduced to a single line in the court records.

The judge’s words left behind a dramatic weight that was difficult to bear. Only the crackling of the flames in the fireplace brought the gathered back to reality.

Neuvillette adjusted his cuffs and slowly nodded, as if he himself needed to confirm what he had just said. He stood up to finally inform the guests of the true course of events that night and call for the guards.

Meanwhile, Clorinde brought Ètoile into the room. As soon as the man saw his tearful lover, he rushed to her, gently cupping her face and kissing her forehead. Luna grabbed his sleeve, pressing her cheek against his hand – tears still trembling on her lashes.

[Reader] turned her gaze away. Explanations were unnecessary, given how clearly the situation was laid out, and – to her own surprise – she began to regret having contributed to the suffering of the two lovers. In her career, she had seen many human dramas, some more or less unjust, and she tried not to undermine the validity of the law too much. After all, everyone should face the consequences of their actions and be treated as anyone of a different status or gender would be. She also knew what Neuvillette would say if he heard her concerns and she would certainly agree with him but…

She still felt that this wasn’t right.

Count Ètoile was only defending his beloved. The death of Count Soleil was the result of an unfortunate accident. He didn’t deserve to die but [Reader] couldn’t sympathize with him, given that he had acted like a complete scoundrel and even after death, made others’ lives miserable.

Everyone knew that Ètoile – at best – would be sentenced to several years in the Fortress of Meropide and during that time, Luna would be forced to marry another corrupted aristocrat.

Was this really how justice should look?

[Reader] pondered this intensely. Even if she stood up for the pair during the trial, would anyone believe that a penniless nobleman defended his beloved? The Count’s influential allies could show Luna’s family debts, the marriage contract, and present Ètoile’s motives as execution of a rival. Then, not just one life would be ruined…

Crushed by guilt, [Reader] couldn’t bear this knowledge. Especially since the fate of the pair would be sealed with the return of the man she herself loved above all.

– Lady Luna, Monsieur Ètoile – she spoke hastily before reason could stop her. – Please listen to me very carefully…

[Reader] took a deep breath as the boat carrying the couple, chased by the shadow of wickedness and justice, managed to pull away from the shore. She had sent them off safely; the rest was in the hands of fate. However, she hoped deeply that they would reach Liyue before the storm began.

It was only after the first wave of emotions had settled – or rather, after the sound of the opening door – that it dawned on her that the hardest task remained. Although she felt fully justified, she doubted whether Neuvillette would share her perspective…

What was worse, however, was the fact that she had devised the entire escape plan and no one could relieve her of the responsibility of delivering this news to the judge.

– The guards are already here but… where is mademoiselle Luna and monsieur Ètoile?

[Reader]'s heart clenched at the sight of the faint furrow on his forehead. He suspected nothing. He trusted her so deeply that it never occurred to him that she might betray him.

[Reader] took a deep breath and turned away from the window. There was no turning back.

– They're gone – she confessed. – I helped them escape.

Neuvillette didn’t answer immediately. The silence that followed was thicker than the fog over Fontaine. The air seemed to stiffen, as if it, too, feared to move in the face of the judge's silence.

– I understand – he finally replied, though his tone gave no hint of emotion.

It was even worse than the yelling and condemnation she had expected. She would have preferred an outburst of emotion rather than this indifference.

Who would have thought that her wish would come true so quickly…

– As I understand it, you decided to administer your own justice.

[Reader] shuddered under his gaze, which had suddenly turned cold and turbulent like the ocean in a storm. She clenched her fists, feeling the weight of her decision pressing against her chest. Still, she didn’t look away.

– I know it wasn't right. I know I betrayed your trust but I swear, this was an exception. The law should protect the weak, and in this case, it would bring misfortune to people who have already suffered enough.

Neuvillette turned and took a few steps, as if he needed physical distance to prevent himself from saying something he might later regret.

– You don't understand what you've done. – His voice carried a severity she had never heard before. – It's not just about the law, [Reader]. It's about trust. About the fact that you acted behind my back instead of talking to me about it.

– It wasn't personal. I would never stand against you…

Neuvillette turned on his heel, his mask finally cracking. Something flashed in his eyes. Something on the edge of anger and sadness.

– Yet you did. – This time, she didn't try to deny it. – You know you'll be treated as an accomplice?

– I know.

– Then you also know that I'll bring them to trial.

– I expect nothing less from you, Neuvillette.

Neuvillette shook his head, as if battling with himself. For a moment, [Reader] thought he would leave. That he would turn away and leave her alone. That he would sever the bond between them.

Instead, he sighed heavily and then stepped closer. He gently touched her hand – just for a moment, as if that single gesture was meant to convey more than words.

– Sometimes, you're like justice. When I think I understand you perfectly, you prove me wrong.

– Does this mean… you're not angry with me?

Neuvillette gave a slight smile, though there was still a shadow of sadness in his eyes.

– Rather disappointed – he admitted. – I wish you hadn’t been afraid to tell me your feelings. This secretive action wasn’t necessary but I understand why you did it. And although I don’t agree with your decision, it doesn’t change my feelings for you.

A gentle flush spread across [Reader]'s cheeks. Neuvillette’s words echoed in her ears.

As the first rays of the morning sun began to slip through the tall windows, the shadows of the night gave way to a warm, golden glow. [Reader] and Neuvillette stood close to each other in silence, a silence that needed no further words, even though the weight of the decisions they had made still hung in the air.

There was no full understanding between them. Neuvillette had made it clear: he wasn’t going to ignore the law. He planned to bring Luna and Ètoile back to Fontaine to stand trial. Still, [Reader] didn’t feel anger.

She could disagree with him. She could feel a touch of regret in her heart but ultimately, looking at his calm face, she didn’t see a harsh executioner, but someone who truly believed in justice. Someone who carried the weight of the law not because he was blindly devoted to it, but because he trusted that it was the only thing that could save Fontaine from chaos.

She knew that even if their paths diverged in this moment and their hearts beat to a different rhythm, she still loved him.

Fate had tested them and subjected their feelings to the hardest trial imaginable but [Reader] did not regret her decision, just as Neuvillette did not regret his. She didn’t know where this night would lead them. She didn’t know if they would ever find a shared definition of justice.

But she knew that whatever happened, that love would always remain in her.

And that was enough for her.

[linkemon]

GUIDELINES FOR REQUESTS/TWISTED WONDERLAND

Please specify if you would like a hadcanons or a match-up.

Headcannons: a list of what might happen between you and the character you choose depending on the situation (more like a list format)

Match-up: you get paired up with a character I think suits you the most based on your description and then give you headcanons

Please specify if the reader is female, male or gender neutral (I want to make sure I get you what you wanted)

I am not writing NSFW.

You can choose any characters (teachers and RSA) but I don't write romantic things for Ortho.

 AUs are welcomed (but it does depend on whether I know the one you want)

Requests are open 0/3.

[linkemon]

Boysband AU headcanons

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi.

Other headcanons from this series can be found here. This part contains: Lilia Vanrouge, Cater Diamond and Kalim Al-Asim.

Lilia Vanrouge

• His signature trait is a scream with a capital "S." He has gathered a massive following of metal and rock fans. You could say he has attracted enough to form a mini fandom within the entire band.

• You stand up for him with the producers every time he wants to add another heavy track to the new album. He finds it incredibly amusing to drop these kinds of ideas on you without warning. Not too long ago, he brought it up in front of the board, watching your reaction with great interest. His long, drawn-out laughter always follows.

• Lilia loves pulling pranks on set while filming music videos. He also has an uncanny ability to jump out unexpectedly and scare people. You worry that one day you might actually have a heart attack.

• His symbol is a bat. It’s not only on his guitar but he also released a series of black plush toys that everyone adores and buys in droves.

• Lilia hates bright sunlight and early wake-ups. Sometimes, you have to obsessively call him just to get him up for rehearsals — especially when he’s stayed up late playing games, which he often streams for his fans.

• He once participated in a cooking show for publicity, saying it might be fun. He completely burned what he had in the pan and got eliminated right at the start. Since then, you and the rest of the band have kept him away from the kitchen as much as possible.

Cater Diamond

• The most media-savvy member of the band. If you need content for social media, he’s the first person you ask. A quick photo? He’s taken three. A video? He has a compilation of funny bloopers. A post? He knows all the trending hashtags.

• His signature symbol is a diamond — the same one that shines on his cheek every day. It’s also featured on his merch, from hats and shirts to jewelry.

• He has a very interesting relationship with the fans. He often engages in conversations with them longer than he should. He also signs an excessive number of autographs. If you left him alone with a phone, he would never refuse a selfie.

• Cater struggles with his self-esteem. He never lets anyone see it but the entertainment industry weighs on him, even though he’s addicted to it. One day, you found him in tears, scrolling through hateful comments. He had hidden away after a long day of rehearsals in the back of the recording studio. You’ll never forget how tightly he held onto you, soaking your sweater and apologizing over and over. You knew that, even though he looked beautiful in your eyes, it might be hard for him to believe it himself, so you just sat there in silence.

• Cater sometimes plays quiet songs and sings them only for those closest to him — including you. That’s when he shows a sensitive side he usually keeps hidden. His songs reflect his emotions and his inner world.

• Since he always keeps up with the latest trends, he’s the easiest to work with when shooting music videos. He knows how to dress fashionably, apply makeup and often has plenty of helpful ideas.

Kalim Al-Asim

• The brightest sunshine of the band and its heart. He was the one who gathered his friends long ago and, for fun, pulled them into playing instruments. Joy has always been his priority. He treats working with the agency as a great adventure but he would leave in a heartbeat if his friends ever felt unhappy with fame. Whether it’s a garage behind the house or the bright lights of an international stage, it makes him just as happy.

• Drumming is his way of channeling the incredible energy inside him. He often changes its look, decorating it with stickers and swapping out his drumsticks.

• Kalim is quite innocent, which leads to many funny situations. Fans make a huge number of memes with him as the main character but he loves them and enjoys the laughter they bring.

• His innocence, unfortunately, also makes him vulnerable to danger. More than once, famous idols or paparazzi have tried to use him for scandals to boost their own publicity. Luckily, since you’ve been on guard, you catch on in time and swat them away like flies.

• Sometimes, he does things that cross professional boundaries but you don’t always have the heart to tell him. Especially when he’s so happy — hugging you or encouraging you to sing a few lines of a new song with him. Kalim always makes sure to mention you when it’s time to give thanks while accepting various awards.

• As the son of wealthy merchants, he has inherited their talent for clever negotiation. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s casually, yet diplomatically, negotiated higher rates for album sales or performances.

[linkemon]

Romantic tropes headcanons

You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Other headcanons from Twisted Wonderland can be found here.

Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you're interested.

This part contains: Idia Shroud, Floyd Leech and Kalim Al-Asim.

Idia Shroud • Grumpy x Sunshine

• When Idia met you for the first time, he felt like he had gone blind. It was a bit like staring straight into the sun. You reminded him of Kalim Al-Asim — everywhere at once, loud and not very respectful of personal space. You were like an MC in an anime. Always looking at things positively, facing every obstacle life threw at you with a smile.

• Idia wasn’t too keen on becoming friends with you. Besides, he usually only saw you through his tablet screen. If you were the sun, then he was the moon. He felt comfortable hiding away in his dorm with his gears and passions. It wasn’t until you saved him from his Overblot that he started seeing your persistence and openness in a different light. With a hint of envy, he realized how easily you made friends.

• Shroud never expected you to get everyone to play one of his favourite games. Sitting on the couch with a controller in his hand, he looked at you in disbelief. At that moment, watching your smile, he thought that maybe you weren’t blinding at all — just warm. And maybe… he wanted to bask in your light.

• He didn’t even notice how, after that incident, he slowly started following your lead. The real shock came when, one day, in his room, you admitted that you were utterly exhausted. Carrying the weight of all the responsibilities the headmaster had dumped on you had finally taken its toll. Without thinking much, Idia called Crowley a noob and a final boss in one. Then, he told you to do the same. This strange little ranting session somehow helped you let off some steam. Right after, Idia declared that you had the rest of the day off. If anyone came knocking, including the headmaster, Ortho would take care of it. Idia pulled out a stash of snacks and put on one of his favourite comfort series. Wrapped up in a blanket like a burrito, you could finally let your guard down — at least for a little while.

Floyd Leech • Kabedon

• Floyd doesn’t understand the concept of personal space. He’s always right next to you, squeezing his little shrimp to the brink of suffocation. By now, you’ve gotten used to it.

• So it was no surprise when one day, in the school library, he pulled a kabedon on you. The two of you stood behind one of the towering bookshelves. The librarian had seen him come in and was now searching for him with frantic determination, loudly calling out his name. He had quite a few overdue books piled up — not that he had actually read them...

• Floyd pressed a finger to your lips, effectively silencing the protests that were about to escape them. His broad shoulders blocked out your view and his hand landed right next to your head. The only thing you could see was his face, adorned with a mischievous grin. You wanted to wipe it off him but your heart was beating faster and faster. The distance between you kept shrinking and you could feel his quickened breath.

• Dust particles danced in the air. There was a faint scent of the sea lingering in your nostrils. Leech looked like he was having the time of his life as the librarian passed by, missing you both by mere inches. The moment she was gone, he stepped away as if nothing had happened, vanishing before you could even collect yourself. Almost unconsciously, you touched your warm cheeks, trying to shake yourself out of the trance.

Kalim Al-Asim • One Bed

• Kalim is a true altruist. The moment he heard about the renovations in your dorm, he immediately offered for you to stay in Scarabia. In his mind, this was the perfect excuse for a sleepover and a pajama party! He threw himself into preparations with boundless excitement.

• The evening was spent in an incredibly pleasant atmosphere. There were mountains of delicious food prepared by Jamil, which made Grim especially happy. You all played games late into the night, sprawled across soft cushions, while upbeat dance music played from the speakers — completely mismatched with your cozy outfits. Kalim eagerly encouraged everyone to dance, his infectious smile making it impossible to refuse.

• But when the excitement finally died down and you lay in the guest room assigned to you, you found that you couldn't sleep. Whether it was due to all the excitement or simply missing the familiar creaks of your own bed, you weren’t sure. But after tossing and turning for what felt like the hundredth time, counting sheep with no success, you decided to do something about it.

• Hesitantly, you knocked on Kalim’s door. The sight of his sleepy face immediately filled you with guilt. Just as you were about to apologize, he sleepily tugged your hand, listening to you patiently before suggesting that you stay with him instead. Had it not been so late, maybe you both would’ve cared that there was only one bed — but at that moment, it was the last thing on your minds.

• Kalim started telling you fairy tales from the Scalding Sands, weaving in softly hummed lullabies between his words. He fell asleep before you did, struggling to keep his eyes open but you were grateful nonetheless. He held your hand the entire night.

• When you woke up in the morning, your face was nestled against his chest and his arm was gently wrapped around your waist. You carefully slipped out of the room before Jamil could see you. You figured neither of you needed his scolding — and knowing him, there was no doubt it would have been inevitable…

[linkemon]

Beauty and the Beast (Bakugō Katsuki x Reader) Good Ending

ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏ ᴋᴀᴛꜱᴜᴋɪ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴄᴜʀꜱᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ʙᴇᴀꜱᴛ. ʟᴏᴄᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄᴀʟ ᴏʙᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ʜɪꜱ ꜱᴜʙᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ, ʜᴇ ꜱʟᴏᴡʟʏ ʟᴏꜱᴇꜱ ʜᴏᴘᴇ. ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ, [ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ], ꜰᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ʜᴇʀ ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ'ꜱ ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛɪᴍɪᴅᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴏᴠᴇʀʜᴀᴜʟ ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴇꜱ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ. ɪɴɪᴛɪᴀʟ ʀᴇʟᴜᴄᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ, ʙᴏʀɴꜱ ᴀ ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱʜɪᴘ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴀᴅᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ, ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɢʀᴏᴡꜱ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ.

The whole series can be found here. Part 1 is here. Bad Ending version.

Good ending

— Shigaraki is on his way! With a group of people! — Eri burst into the training grounds.

The enchanted objects froze. They had always known this day would come, yet they still weren’t prepared. They had hoped they would never have to lay eyes on the cruel man they had only heard about in stories. But now, their time was running out. As the snow melted, so did their hope. They lived from day to day, avoiding the temptation to count the weeks. April loomed before them like a grim executioner. They moved more slowly with each passing day, unable to keep up with the other palace residents.

Eri ran up to Mei, who was stubbornly tinkering with a prototype net. She wanted it to be able to fire and catch intruders. But it still wasn’t working — she tapped it impatiently, frustrated. She seemed lost in her own world. When the girl delivered the news, Mei wiped grease from her face and got back to work. She had to be extremely determined to fix what was broken. Maybe that was her way of helping her friends as best she could.

[Reader] lowered her silver sword. She wasn’t sure what she felt. Fear for her loved ones but also determination. She had made her decision long ago. She wasn’t going to back down. Not even if Katsuki disagreed.

Bakugō wasn’t doing well today. In fact, he hadn’t been for weeks, though he refused to admit it. He looked exhausted. Given his worsening condition, she didn’t want to agree to further training. But he had insisted that if she truly intended to stay, even after the thaw, she had to promise she would continue honing her skills under his watchful eye. So she spent her days swinging her sword. Eri would sometimes join them, just to watch. She couldn’t lift the heavy weapon but whenever her sister wasn’t paying attention, she would pester the beast to teach her how to handle a dagger. And with that knowledge, she had demanded to stay in the palace until the curse was broken. Despite everyone’s heated protests, she had been adamant and no one had been able to change her mind.

Katsuki had hoped to avoid exactly this situation. If only Shigaraki had arrived a little later, he wouldn’t have found [Reader] or Eri here. At most, he would have stumbled upon a few household objects and a wild, unconscious beast that wouldn’t have cared either way. But now, it seemed he would have to face the man who wanted him dead.

— You have to leave — he said, sheathing his golden sword in an old, battered scabbard.

— No way. We’ve already talked about this... Katsuki?! — The girl rushed forward as soon as she saw the beast start to sway.

She helped him lean against her but it wasn’t much use. He was far too heavy for her to support properly. She cast a worried glance toward the palace entrance. She had no choice but to drag the protesting king to the greenhouse. Everyone except Mei followed them.

The blue rose was in a dreadful state. The last bloom withered before their eyes. Each petal seemed to fall faster than the last. [Reader] remembered how magnificent the bush had looked when she first arrived. Now it was nothing, and, worse, it didn’t seem to be helping Bakugō at all.

The beast collapsed heavily beside it. His breathing became ragged. His eyes were clouded. A roar escaped his throat. The girl was certain that Shigaraki would be here in an instant because of it — and, unfortunately, she was right. Her former fiancé had brought a sizable crowd.

Strangely, they weren’t all mercenaries. At least not as many as she had expected. The vast majority were local farmers and townsfolk. There were also a few richly dressed noblemen but not many. Most of them were likely waiting for the situation to unfold before openly supporting the man.

[Reader] drew her sword. She allowed herself a quick glance at Katsuki. He was standing, though unsteadily. Behind him were Eri, gripping her dagger and the enchanted objects.

— Behold the beast! — Shigaraki called out calmly, drawing a black blade.

The crowd hesitated to move. Besides, the greenhouse wasn’t large enough for them all to attack at once. Despite their numbers, they were wary. No one wanted to be the first to fall to the monster.

From the group emerged Kurogiri. His black cloak billowed ominously. His eyes burned with murderous intent. He must have craved revenge deeply, for his knuckles turned white as he tightened his grip on his weapon. He lunged at the girl. Though she was prepared, Bakugō was faster. Gold gleamed in his hand.

With an unsteady, weakened motion, he parried the strike. His opponent twisted, attacking again. But this time, he aimed for Eri.

The girl dodged and struck out with her dagger. She only grazed him but that didn’t matter. Katsuki swung his clawed hand. Kurogiri hadn’t expected it to be a feint. The sword cleaved through bone. The man staggered back, missing his right hand. He panted heavily, trying to stem the bleeding. One of the mercenaries clumsily wrapped the stump in the fabric of his black cloak. Kurogiri lost consciousness. Shigaraki glanced at his men. This display was supposed to rally them into battle. But now, it seemed he would have to dirty his own hands. He stepped forward.

[Reader] heard a dull thud against the floor. Katsuki’s body had collapsed beneath the rosebush. Eri tried to wake him, but to no avail. The enchanted objects seemed frozen in place, their eyes darting around as they desperately tried to grasp what was happening. Shigaraki attacked. [Reader] took a deep breath. Silver danced in her hands. This was the first time she had ever fought someone for real. And her former fiancé had spent the past years training with some of the finest swordsmen. Though many had underestimated him due to his hunched posture, he quickly proved to be a dangerous man. Even if he was better at pulling the strings of power than wielding a blade himself. He struck mercilessly. She parried, searching for an opening. Desperation crept in. His defense seemed impenetrable. Worse still, she saw, from the corner of her eye, the crowd preparing to take advantage of the moment. The braver noblemen edged closer, tightening the circle. She struck again. Sweat trickled down her skin, pain searing her arm. The fight was nearing the end and she was losing.

She struck once more. She recalled her first lessons with Katsuki. It was one of the things that had brought them closer when they first met. He had been terrifying when she arrived at the palace with Overhaul. He had also been rude and unfriendly when she was getting to know him. And then, without her quite knowing when, he had become bearable. Over time, she had wanted to see him more and more. She liked his sense of humor. The fact that he didn’t treat her like the 'Beauty' she had been in the estate. And, though he rarely admitted it, she knew he enjoyed their time together too. Long conversations with him had become a part of her life. The time when he was right there, beside her, with their magical friends and Eri, had become something that filled her heart with joy. Because of him, she had begun to think of the palace as home. A real one. The kind she had never experienced before.

Holding back a sob, she attacked. The silver blade was mercilessly blocked. Emerald eyes flashed as Shigaraki knocked the weapon from her grasp. Was this how it was all going to end? No more tea with La Brava and Gentle. No more stacks of new compliments from Kaminari. Stories of Midoriya from Ochaco and Kirishima would fade into oblivion. Eri’s laughter, ringing so cheerfully in her ears ever since they arrived, would be silenced. And most importantly… Katsuki…

He could say whatever he wanted. Push her away for the sake of her safety. She knew he cared. She wanted to break the curse so that he wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore. She longed for him to regain his freedom and, without the enchantment hanging over him, finally tell her whether he felt the same as she did. At first, she had thought it was just friendship. And maybe it had been. Until it wasn’t. Something changed in the winter. She started looking at him differently. It was love. She was certain of it. Not the wild, sudden kind described in Eri’s fairy tales. It didn’t give her butterflies in her stomach. It was calm and steady. She was sure of it. And now fear gripped her heart. In just a moment, everything would be over. A single second stretched into eternity.

She wanted to live. To tell Katsuki everything that was racing through her mind. She didn’t know where the sudden courage came from. At the last moment, she grabbed the blade. She recreated the wrist movements the king had tried to teach her months ago, twisting the tip of the sword. For a moment, she thought she saw Izuku. Which was impossible, considering he had been dead for so long. She stared in a trance as Shigaraki’s defense was broken. The man stumbled over the vines of a rosebush. He fell straight onto the blade of a mercenary who had just charged into battle. A horrifying wail escaped him. With the last of his strength, he clutched the wound near his heart. But [Reader] paid him no mind.

— Not another step! — she shouted breathlessly, pointing her sword forward.

Seeing their leader in a pool of blood, the crowd hesitated. Someone called for help, while others gathered around Kurogiri. They didn’t know what to do. But she hadn’t expected them to simply drop their weapons. It started with the farmers.

— It’s... it’s him! — An old man looked shaken.

— He looks just like her… like Queen Mitsuki — added the woman beside him.

— People, the legend is true! — One of the mercenaries let go of his sword.

The counts fled the greenhouse in panic. They knew they had lost. Some of the people ran outside the palace. Others, intrigued, moved closer.

The girl turned her head. She, too, dropped her weapon in shock. A boy lay on the ground. At first, she wondered who he was. It wasn’t until she saw Eri’s smile that she understood — it was Katsuki. He was no longer a beast but a man. She had never seen any portraits of him. After all, he had destroyed all his human likenesses before she had arrived at the palace. His blond hair was disheveled. He blinked a few times, revealing red irises. He stared at his hands in disbelief before looking at his subjects. They looked older than they had on the day the curse was cast but other than that, they were unchanged. He got to his feet unsteadily, still dazed. His gaze landed on [Reader]. Before he could say a word, she rushed at him, laughing through her tears.

— You’re alive… Katsuki, you’re alive! — She threw her arms around his neck.

— It takes more than that to get rid of me, idiot — he whispered, pulling her into a firm embrace. — I never got the chance to tell you before. I was afraid of how you’d react. You wouldn’t be safe with me, so I tried to hide it and that was a mistake. I want you to know the truth. I love you, [Reader]. — The king gently tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, his hand tenderly cupping her face.

— I love you too, Katsuki. — [Reader] pressed their lips together in a kiss.

All other sounds seemed to fade. The only thing that mattered was how close they were. A warmth spread through their hearts. Maybe Eri’s fairy tales weren’t so far from the truth after all. This had to be a kiss of true love.

What happened next was described in many different ways. Perhaps because each person in the greenhouse remembered the events a little differently. But there were a few things on which they all agreed. The blue rosebush miraculously came back to life, despite its terrible state just moments before. Kirishima grew into the title of Captain of the Guard. He organized the farmers and mercenaries with the help of gold from the treasury. They helped capture the fleeing counts. Mei’s net came in handy, finished just in time. Was it entirely legal? Probably not but no one who could spread the story too soon managed to escape the palace. Despite his supposed retirement, Gentle proudly tossed Kurogiri into the dungeon. La Brava rushed to the throne room to fetch the royal insignia for the king, even though not everyone present was fully convinced of his rule. Ochaco took on the task of explaining to the gathered crowd who the blond boy in the crown truly was, with the help of a few others. As it turned out, some of them had worked in the palace long ago. They recognized both her and Katsuki, so much like his mother. Kaminari played a significant role in negotiating with the many opponents of the new monarch. His natural charm made him perfect for the task.

Rumors spread in the palace that on that April day, Princess Eri had hugged everyone she could out of sheer happiness. Of course, the younger staff refused to believe the older ones, claiming it was impossible for Her Highness to be so open. At least until they themselves experienced her joy during a grand birthday celebration when she personally embraced each person who had helped with the preparations.

— Not ready yet? — Eri burst into the chamber, her dress rustling. — Come on! You don’t have to kiss every time I see you… — She pretended to be disgusted.

— Have you ever heard of knocking? — [Reader] laughed as she adjusted Katsuki’s shirt cuff.

— We’re leaving now — the man announced, fastening the red cloak over his shoulders.

The second coronation was quite the challenge. After long months of securing allies and several more spent convincing the public that Bakugō truly was the descendant of Mitsuki and Masaru, they had finally succeeded. Legally, it wasn’t necessary but the people and the council insisted on an official ceremony. Katsuki had spent a long time pondering whether he truly wanted to go through with it. For much of his childhood — perhaps all of it — he had longed to escape the responsibility that came with sitting on the throne. But in the end, he concluded that if someone like Shigaraki was to rule Musutafu, then it was better for him to take matters into his own hands. Surely, after the late king, many others would come scheming for power. His mother would never have forgiven him for leaving the country in their hands. The king had promised himself that he would try to introduce democracy. Step by step. After poring over books he had long avoided, he realized that it could be a great solution. Some neighbouring countries had already begun implementing it and with good results. Even if it were to happen only years from now, when Eri ascended the throne, it was worth trying.

The girl had grown into a remarkable person. Though she had become a bit more serious, her immense kindness remained unchanged. The people adored her, demanding that she be included in the line of succession. He didn’t want the teenager to be forced into it the way he once had. However, when he asked her opinion, she declared that she was ready and would work hard to earn the crown. [Reader], in contrast to her sister, wasn’t particularly interested in the legalities of succession. She helped the two of them as best she could but at the mention of 'queen' she merely shrugged. That didn’t mean, of course, that she wouldn’t become one in the future. Katsuki, despite his many duties, found himself dreaming of proposing.

The guards opened the doors to the restored throne room. Kirishima was scolding one of the new recruits in the Palace Guard. Moments later, he stood beside Bakugō. He smiled, and his friend returned the gesture. The men walked into the chamber, following the long carpet. Katsuki took his seat on the throne. The crown on his head no longer felt as heavy as he remembered it years ago.

Gentle announced that everyone was invited to join the festivities. La Brava led the first dance alongside him. They twirled across the ballroom, inviting foreign diplomats into conversation. No doubt many more cups of tea would be poured that evening. Kaminari had disappeared from the king’s sight — he had probably gone to spread the word that the celebrations had begun. He had designed the festival games in the city. Along with Ochaco, he had made sure that the cheerful atmosphere extended beyond the palace. Food and attractions had been prepared well in advance for the large public squares.

The head maid stood to the side, scolding Eri for wrinkling her dress. From time to time, she glanced at the large portrait of her fiancé, which hung prominently beside His Majesty. A smile graced her lips. Mei, as the royal inventor, occupied one of the raised platforms, adjusting her equipment. Despite her ball gown, the grease on her hands revealed that she had spent the day working. Another one of her creations was about to be presented for use in the agricultural sector. She hoped it would be useful for farmers. Her assistants approached her cautiously, asking when everything would be ready.

— What are you thinking about? — [Reader] asked when the king placed his crown on a cushion and invited her to dance.

The dance steps they performed surprised some of the guests. Surely, not every foreign visitor had heard of their wild love story. No one outside their circle of friends ever learned why they moved sideways across the ballroom, dancing to a street song that hardly suited the grand surroundings. Just as not everyone knew that they woke up an hour early each morning to start the day with sword training. Or that their future vacation plans involved an incognito journey to foreign lands. Those who frequented the palace, however, were already used to the fact that the current ruler and his loved ones were anything but ordinary.

— I’m thinking about how lucky I am. We’re all here together and you’re right beside me. — Bakugō smiled.

— Thank you. — [Reader] placed a brief kiss on his lips.

— For what? — Katsuki tilted his head.

— For meeting you — she replied, spinning.

— In that case, I thank you too. — The man took a few familiar steps.

— Oh? Are we competing now? — [Reader] gave him a mock-disapproving look.

They had changed so much, yet at the same time, they were still the same as when their journey together had begun.

— Thank you for breaking my curse. For teaching me how to love.

[linkemon]

Beauty and the Beast (Bakugō Katsuki x Reader) Bad Ending

ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏ ᴋᴀᴛꜱᴜᴋɪ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴄᴜʀꜱᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ʙᴇᴀꜱᴛ. ʟᴏᴄᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄᴀʟ ᴏʙᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ʜɪꜱ ꜱᴜʙᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ, ʜᴇ ꜱʟᴏᴡʟʏ ʟᴏꜱᴇꜱ ʜᴏᴘᴇ. ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ, [ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ], ꜰᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ʜᴇʀ ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ'ꜱ ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛɪᴍɪᴅᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴏᴠᴇʀʜᴀᴜʟ ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴇꜱ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ. ɪɴɪᴛɪᴀʟ ʀᴇʟᴜᴄᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ, ʙᴏʀɴꜱ ᴀ ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱʜɪᴘ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴀᴅᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ, ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɢʀᴏᴡꜱ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ.

The whole series can be found here. Part 1 is here. Good Ending version.

Bad ending

— Katsuki, what are you doing?!

[Reader] was unceremoniously thrown over the beast’s shoulder. The same happened to Eri. Her sister seemed quite calm, unlike herself. No matter how hard she tried to break free from the tight grip, it was no use. Just a moment ago, the king had been spending time in one of the towers. She herself had been scouring the library in search of a way to break the curse. At first, she thought that was why he had carried her out of there. He didn’t like revisiting the subject. He had promised he would handle it himself but she had the feeling he had simply given up. That’s why she had been furiously digging through stacks of books when he wasn’t looking.

The farther down they went, the more she felt she had been mistaken. This was about something else. She glanced at Eri, who turned her head as if trying to hide something. [Reader] recalled the apologetic expressions of their magical friends as they passed the ballroom.

— Shigaraki is going to be here any moment, isn’t he? — the girl asked.

The way Bakugō tensed was an answer itself.

— Put me down this instant! — She struck his fur-covered back.

He seemed deaf to her pleas. He carried her and Eri into the greenhouse — the same one where they had spent so much time. They passed the blue rose, now practically nonexistent. The entire bush was rotting. The last branch, which had until recently looked healthy, was withering. One single flower remained on it, drooping toward the tiles, shedding its final petals. She knew it was somehow connected to Katsuki’s condition but he had never revealed how.

They stopped by the passage to the armory. The beast pressed one of the tiles and pushed hard against the wall. A cloud of dust surrounded them. The clanking of an old mechanism echoed from within. Before she could react, she landed in darkness. She felt around, her hands brushing against the thick walls of the palace.

— Katsuki!

Eri grabbed her hand.

— You knew? — she asked, unable to hide the reproach in her voice.

— I’m sorry. — Her little sister’s words were quiet. — This tunnel leads far beyond the palace. Katsuki said this way, you’d be safe and that he’d handle things… But honestly, I’m not so sure anymore.

Of course. Eri wasn’t thinking of herself. She was thinking of her. She should be grateful. She couldn’t blame her for choosing family’s safety over a boy. And she wasn’t surprised that Eri had believed the king’s words. They had spent so much time together and she had truly come to trust him. She probably thought this was the best solution and that, in time, they would be able to return.

Frantically, she began searching for anything that could help them escape the darkness. She didn’t have time to find the exit on the other side. Who knew how far it led? She found nothing useful. Despairing, she slumped against the wall. Her sister tried for longer but in the end, she did the same.

— Are you there? — The voice was muffled but familiar.

— Kirishima?! — Eri jumped to her feet.

The clock argued with someone for a while. The girls recognized the magical objects. A series of taps followed, ending in the creak of a hidden door.

— Katsuki has lost it and they’ll be here any moment. — Panic was evident in Ochaco’s voice.

— Where is he?

— Last time we saw him, he was in the throne room. — La Brava’s voice was faint.

[Reader] had noticed that in recent days, her friends had been struggling more and more to move. Now, however, they seemed to be weakening entirely. Their voices were much softer than they had been that morning.

— Eri, stay here with them — she said, sprinting away as fast as her legs would carry her. — If anything happens, escape through the tunnel and find Mei.

Hatsume had left the palace about a week ago. But she had left detailed instructions on where she planned to travel. She believed her friends would visit her someday. If Eri tried hard enough, she might have a chance to catch up to her — especially since the inventor planned to make frequent stops.

Before leaving, Mei had set up a few traps of her own design, cleverly hidden beneath layers of snow. Though the white powder was slowly melting under the sun’s rays, the traps remained invisible to the careless eye. But [Reader] doubted they would stop anyone for long. Mei hadn’t had enough materials to make them better, bigger or more durable.

[Reader] raced up the stairs and corridors. Her lungs burned. Every ragged breath stung. Through a window, she managed to catch sight of Shigaraki. He no longer looked like the man she had first met. He dismounted his horse and strode toward the palace, followed closely by a group of people. She paused. Most of them weren’t his mercenaries. They looked like ordinary citizens of Musutafu. They were armed, but they didn’t really seem like they knew how or even wanted to use their weapons. Had the battle with the Shie Hassaikai weakened his forces that much? It was very possible that wiping them out had significantly depleted his ranks. Overhaul had been his enemy for a long time, after all. If he was gone now, he had certainly tried to drag the traitor down with him. In these past two months, Shigaraki likely hadn’t had enough time to recruit many trained warriors. That would explain the civilians entering the courtyard.

She bolted forward again. What should she do? With every step, she realized she had no plan. She couldn’t leave Katsuki here. She had to somehow bring him back to his senses and get him out of the palace. But how, when the curse held him in its grip? She didn’t know any way to break it.

She spotted Bakugō in the open doorway before she could even get close. His rampage resembled the one from yesterday. But back then, he had snapped out of it quickly. The only thing he had destroyed had been a chair in the dining hall. Now, she watched as he hurled the heavy, ornate throne straight at a stained-glass window. The shards crashed onto the marble floor with a sharp clatter. He let out an inhuman roar. Torn curtains were strewn about him, trailing behind him like a crimson cloak. The cushion that had once held the crown lay discarded. The gold circlet had rolled away, coming to a stop somewhere in the corner.

— Katsuki! — She knew he’d hear her from afar. His ears were sharp.

The beast turned slowly toward her, panting heavily. The king clutched his head as if trying to drive away the thoughts swirling in his mind. For a moment, she saw recognition in his eyes. It looked like his awareness was returning. She stepped forward cautiously, reaching out to him. He growled softly, but it wasn’t a sound of anger — more of a warning. She took another step.

— There it is! — A foreign voice rang through the hall.

[Reader] whirled around in panic. She heard the quick, raspy breaths.

— As you can see, good people, there really is a beast here! — Shigaraki led the group. A small crowd followed behind him.

— But wasn’t he the king? — one of the villagers asked.

— You’ve heard too many legends. You can see for yourself — it’s a monster — a woman, who looked like a mercenary, replied.

As if to confirm her words, a roar echoed through the hall. Katsuki launched himself toward their leader with incredible speed.

— No! — [Reader] stepped into his path.

That was exactly what the man wanted — to show the crowd that he was no longer human. Maybe before, it would have been harder to prove. But now, with the king losing control, everything worked in his favour.

Katsuki dodged her nimbly, charging straight at the armed crowd. People raised their weapons.

— Don’t be the beast they think you are! — she shouted.

That made him stop. Uncertainly, he turned toward her. [Reader] didn’t know how she managed to see the enemy’s next move. Maybe it was thanks to the hours spent training in the courtyard. Unfortunately, she had no weapon now. Seeing Shigaraki swing his black sword, she threw herself toward the beast. Bakugō was too heavy for her to push him away. So when the blade fell with a soft whistle, she became the thing that separated him from the strike.

The blade struck her body.

At first, she wasn’t fully aware of what was happening. All she felt was Katsuki lifting her in his arms. His furry limbs prickled unpleasantly but not more than the wound in her chest. She touched it uncertainly. Bright red blood stained the tips of her fingers. Her vision blurred slightly. She knew they were moving through familiar corridors. She thought someone was speaking to her but maybe it was just the screams of Shigaraki and the crowd? She couldn’t make out the words.

When they reached the greenhouse, something changed. The king walked more slowly. The arms holding her became gentler and warmer. For some reason, she fixated on a blue rose bush. It looked just as it had the first day she arrived here. She weakly shook her head. There was no way it had healed so quickly.

When had a year passed? April had come again. It felt as if she had only just stepped into the palace for the first time. Her attempt to escape. The truce with Katsuki. Cleaning with her friends. Shared meals. Sword training. Picnics by the lake. Trips to Mei’s cottage. The ball she hadn’t wanted to attend at first. Playing in the snow with Eri. All these moments and many more flooded her mind, passing somewhere deep inside her consciousness.

— [Reader], stay with me.

She couldn’t see who was speaking. The voice was familiar, and though she wanted so badly to respond, she couldn’t. Her lips wouldn’t obey. Some droplets fell onto her face. She would have thought it was rain if not for their salty taste. She tried to move her hand but it was no use. The sounds faded into nothingness and darkness settled beneath her eyelids, which refused to open no matter how hard she tried.

— I love you.

Eri placed a bouquet of wildflowers on the green hill. They shimmered with all the colours of the rainbow. [Reader] would have liked them. Katsuki always regretted not taking her body with him. But he couldn’t. They had to escape and had to do it fast. They were all traveling on foot. Shigaraki had pursued them relentlessly for a long time. The girl still remembered the terror that followed them all the way to the country’s border. Only beyond it did they finally have enough peace to process the tragedy that had befallen them. Those were days filled with anger and grief. She rarely revisited them. She preferred to remember her sister as a happy person. Though, in truth, she had the feeling that in all the years they spent together, [Reader] had rarely been truly content with her life. She had hoped that would change but the events at the palace had shattered that hope.

— Ready? — Katsuki pulled her from her thoughts.

This wasn’t a real burial site but he didn’t like being here. Whenever he visited, he only stayed for a short while. At first, he claimed it was because of the location at the border but over time, he simply admitted that he didn’t like reliving those days. He had taken [Reader]’s death hard and blamed himself for a very long time.

Their friends had stayed with him for a few months but they couldn’t keep travelling in such a large group. As much as it pained them, they had to leave one by one. Hatsume was the first to go. Her inventions were now known beyond the border. Whenever they met, she showed them new prototypes of her 'children'. She had finally analyzed the ingredients meant for the potion Overhaul had sought. Before leaving, she had taken a blood sample from Eri. Apparently, something in her marrow and blood held the key to unlocking extraordinary power. However, after Katsuki had been freed from his curse, the rose bush seemed to have lost its magic. Shigaraki hadn’t been able to create anything since.

Next were La Brava and Gentle. The couple found work in a small tea shop where the owners constantly complained about them. They didn’t mind much. They spent their time amidst the bustle of the city, enjoying their love. Manami joyfully announced in letters that she was pregnant. She dreamed of opening her own shop but so far, they still lacked the funds.

Kaminari’s departure was the hardest for Eri. Maybe because he had truly liked her sister. He was the one she talked to the most about [Reader]. He never returned to his old profession. Instead, he wandered from place to place, taking odd jobs. He said he couldn’t bring people joy anymore and it was true. She couldn’t recall ever seeing his genuine smile since he had ceased to be a shining light.

Then came Kirishima and Ochaco. They had wanted to stay with their king until the end. They felt it was their duty, even though they were now friends and had no obligation to do so. But Bakugō had declared that his final order was for them to leave and live their own lives. Unsure of what to do, they set off on a journey. Ochaco wanted to visit her lover’s homeland. It was risky, considering Musutafu was a place they shouldn’t return to. For that reason, the former Captain of the Guard promised to help her.

In the end, only Eri remained with Katsuki. He had never been able to push her away. Maybe out of guilt. Or maybe because he knew they needed each other.

Over the years, they travelled far and wide. Bakugō worked as a mercenary, always on the move. They never stayed in one place for long. Small cottages on the outskirts of civilization became Eri’s norm. They visited cities only when necessary and even that had become rare, especially after hearing that Shigaraki had finally crowned himself the ruler of Musutafu. The process had taken years, though in practice, he had ruled for a long time. The council had always danced to his tune. Now, he could officially dissolve it.

Was the king still hunting them? She doubted it. But she was sure that if he ever caught wind of their whereabouts, he wouldn’t hesitate to eliminate them once and for all.

— You could at least pretend. It’s supposed to be a surprise party. — Eri smiled, adjusting her simple but new dress.

Bakugō’s gift, as always, was practical. He had given her a dress that morning. She liked the colour. It matched her hair. Though she regretted that the dress wasn’t yellow. For some reason, that was the only colour he had never bought her anything in.

— What kind of surprise is it if it happens every year? — the man muttered playfully.

They made their way to the small garden, where their friends were already waiting. A worn-out table stood in the center, the tablecloth fluttering in the pleasant summer breeze. Ochaco shooed bees away from the flowers she had used to decorate the cake. La Brava and Gentle poured tea while chatting with Kaminari, who hurriedly tied a ribbon around colourful packages. Before them all stood Kirishima, urging Mei along — she was late, as always.

Eri smiled. She loved seeing them all together. Even if it couldn’t be every day.

— Happy birthday! — voices rang out across the garden.

Another year without you, [Reader] but I know we’ll be okay...

[linkemon]

Beauty and the Beast (Bakugō Katsuki x Reader) 15

ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏ ᴋᴀᴛꜱᴜᴋɪ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴄᴜʀꜱᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ʙᴇᴀꜱᴛ. ʟᴏᴄᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄᴀʟ ᴏʙᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ʜɪꜱ ꜱᴜʙᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ, ʜᴇ ꜱʟᴏᴡʟʏ ʟᴏꜱᴇꜱ ʜᴏᴘᴇ. ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ, [ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ], ꜰᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ʜᴇʀ ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ'ꜱ ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛɪᴍɪᴅᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴏᴠᴇʀʜᴀᴜʟ ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴇꜱ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ. ɪɴɪᴛɪᴀʟ ʀᴇʟᴜᴄᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ, ʙᴏʀɴꜱ ᴀ ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱʜɪᴘ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴀᴅᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ, ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɢʀᴏᴡꜱ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ.

The whole series can be found here. Part 1 is here. Bad Ending and Good Ending coming soon.

Spending Time Together

— Once more! — Eri crashed into a snowdrift.

Completely unfazed, she dug herself out, ready for yet another attempt that day. Her gray hair was wet and stuck to her face but she brushed it aside with a careless motion.

— Young lady, you need to be more careful! — Gentle whistled, brushing the snow off her coat as best he could.

La Brava wasn’t too eager to join in the sledding fun either. Porcelain was fragile, after all. And every day, it became harder and harder for them to move. Ochaco, Kirishima, and Denki, however, saw things differently. They had joined the winter festivities from the very beginning and no accidents could convince them that it might not be the best idea. When Gentle pulled them aside, they simply said that they didn’t have much time left anyway. Might as well use it for something a little risky.

Meanwhile, Hatsume Mei seemed to be in seventh heaven. Every now and then, she adjusted her thick hat, scribbling new ideas into her notebook. Her fifth prototype of a snow vehicle was being mercilessly tested. And in natural conditions, no less. Plus, she had assistants. That had never happened before. Eri was curious about everything around her. It was wonderful to introduce her to every new concept and little invention that popped into Mei’s mind and actually be listened to. She was glad she helped. Even if it meant losing potential business opportunities and supplies in town. In return, she had gained something else. Something much cooler. And in the spring, she would leave this place anyway. She had decided to show her inventions to the rest of the world. Surely, there were people out there who would appreciate them more than those in Musutafu.

— Katsuki, ride with us, pleeease! — The girl's big, pleading eyes stared up at him expectantly.

— He won’t. Sleds are too much for him — [Reader] teased.

— Excuse me. I was amazing when I was younger. All those fu...— the beast started.

— Not in front of Eri! — The girl threw a snowball at him.

— All those… dumb — he corrected himself — kids couldn’t hold a candle to me and I always won when we raced.

— Then prove it. What are you waiting for? — [Reader] returned to building a snow village with a teapot and teacup.

Her sister had begged her to make a snow palace for so long that she simply couldn’t refuse. She had been working on it since morning with a break for lunch and it still looked rather pitiful. But she wasn’t about to give up. She wanted to make something that at least resembled a palace. Even if the king had been mocking her all morning, saying that if it were real, it would have collapsed by now.

— It won’t hold me — Bakugō stated.

— Mei said she reinforced it and it will hold you up just fine. — Ochaco was already positioned at the top of the hill.

She was enjoying this day immensely. Actually, the entire last two months had been truly happy. Ever since [Reader]’s sister had first appeared in the palace corridor, Ochaco had known she would be wonderful. And she was. She seemed to brighten up the gloom of winter. Despite everything she had been through, she was still a cheerful child. She had quickly found her place among Ochaco and her friends. She had even softened Katsuki’s heart. And despite his long-standing insistence that he wasn’t fond of brats, he now seemed to be wrapped around her little finger, doing all the odd things she asked him to do. A piggyback ride? Just this once… Her favourite dish for the third time this week? Pure coincidence… She wanted to throw a little party and pretend to be a princess? He had planned to bake and sort through his mother’s old things anyway…

The little broomstick wished she could stop time. She would love nothing more than to spend her days with loved ones, without worrying about the future. But it was hard to completely push away the dark clouds hanging over her life. Every day, it took more and more strength just to move. And Bakugō wasn’t doing any better. He tried to hide the effects of the curse as best he could but the sisters still caught him struggling now and then. He would lie for hours beneath the blue rose bush, pretending everything was fine. The previous night, his roar had echoed through the entire wing. Kirishima had been the first to reach him, finding him on the floor, claws scraping against the tiles. He had needed help just to get down to the greenhouse. There was no sign that anything would change.

The enchanted objects were beginning to wonder if it wouldn’t be better to tell [Reader] about the curse. She seemed to truly feel something more for their friend. Denki constantly brought them gossip about the way she looked at the beast. In his opinion, it was definitely the gaze of someone in love. And though he often exaggerated, they believed there was some truth in it. But it wasn’t enough. They were still trapped in their enchanted forms. When they asked the king what he thought, he simply said he wanted her to be happy and ordered them to keep quiet. It seemed that despite promising her he would break the curse, he had given up and accepted her departure in the spring with her sister as inevitable.

— My baby can handle even your weight! — the inventor called from the courtyard of [Reader]’s residence.

Katsuki sighed heavily and stood up. Eri grabbed his massive paw. With a bright smile, she led him toward the sled. It took so little to make her happy. That had fascinated him ever since he first met her. In the past, the thought of looking after a child wouldn’t have even crossed his mind. But maybe it was because the brats running around the court were different. Raised in luxury, they were never satisfied with anything. Most nobles had spoiled them beyond repair.

The beast settled onto the sled. Eri sat right in front of him. Ochaco and Denki climbed onto his broad shoulders, mumbling about how it was both exciting and terrifying. Kirishima, with their help, managed to get onto his head.

— No risk, no fun. Besides, this is very manly — he declared proudly to his friends.

The king barely had time to brace himself before he felt a light push from behind.

— Ready? No? Well, too bad! — La Brava laughed as [Reader] shoved the sled down the slope.

Whatever crazy thing Mei had installed in them, the sleds didn’t need much force. They slid down almost instantly. Bakugō felt his stomach lurch. The world blurred into one giant expanse of white. He couldn’t even make out the trees they passed. The cold winter wind whistled in his ears. Eri screamed at the top of her lungs in delight. The enchanted objects shrieked about how they were going to fall, tugging at his fur so hard he was sure they had ripped some out. He was surprised at how useful his clawed feet were — thanks to them, he could easily maneuver around obstacles. He had to admit, it was fun gliding over the sunlit snow, hearing his friends' laughter. Letting himself get lost in the thrill but still having control over the ride. If only he could have that kind of control over more things…

— Again! — Before he realized it, they were already at the bottom.

— No way — he muttered, fully aware that he would give in anyway. Otherwise, the girl would pester him to death.

He tucked the sled under his arm and began climbing back up with ease. [Reader] smiled at him from the top, as if to say: Told you so.

***

— And they lived happily ever after — [Reader] concluded, sipping tea from her cup.

She closed the hefty tome of fairy tales. She wasn’t sure whether to be pleased that her sister had fallen asleep or annoyed that, apparently, she found her reading boring. She decided to blame the day itself. Playing in the snow had exhausted everyone. The little girl was breathing steadily, sprawled near the warm fireplace in the dining room, clutching a pillow. She would have to carry her to bed before going to sleep herself. She had to admit that ever since they had brought in a rug, blankets and a few cushions, the place had become much cozier.

The objects around them yawned loudly as they made their way back to their rooms. She knew it was time for her to go as well but she just couldn’t bring herself to stand up.

— How did you like the story? — the girl asked in a whisper.

— They’re all the same — the beast remarked, crossing his paws under his head and staring at the ceiling.

The girl chuckled softly, careful not to wake anyone.

— Do you remember when I used to clean the library? I read books in advance back then, so I could tell Eri about them one day and I said something very similar. I also think all these stories are alike.

— But?

— How do you know there’s a ‘but’? — The girl glanced at him from the corner of her eye.

— I’ve known you for almost a year. I can tell when you want to say something.

She didn’t need to look at Katsuki to know there was a smug grin on his face.

— I still like them — [Reader] admitted. — Probably because they all have happy endings. I think we could use a bit of happiness too — she mused.

Their situation wasn’t great. The heroes in her sister’s beloved stories always made it through their hardships. She hoped they would too.

— [Reader]… — Bakugō began.

— No! — Eri stirred in her sleep, so she lowered her voice. — I don’t even want to hear it.

— But I haven’t even said anything yet. — The king turned to face her.

His gaze seemed to bore into her, so she focused on the fire crackling in the hearth. Yellow, orange and red flames danced, warding off the cold.

— You’re going to bring up our conversation from early winter. And I still don’t agree. I want to leave the palace with everyone… With Eri… with our friends… and with you — she finished firmly.

— So I’m not your friend? — he asked teasingly, earning a hard punch to his furry arm.

— You're… you’re something more. — She rubbed her sleepy eyes. — I’m grateful to have met you, Katsuki.

Bakugō didn’t respond. He didn’t know what he should do. He loved her but did she feel the same? The curse still lingered. Whatever bond they shared, it wasn’t strong enough yet. Was this the right moment to tell her the truth? Love tainted by guilt wasn’t what he wanted. Should he break his resolve?

As long as she remained here, she was in danger. If she left in early spring, she’d have a better chance of escaping Shigaraki. Who knew if staying in the palace until April was even worth it? He still had a few weeks. But would that be enough when they hadn’t broken the spell in a whole year?

She had already fallen asleep before he could decide what to say. The palace settled into a peaceful silence. He covered her and Eri with one of the blankets, then added more wood to the fire.

Gazing out the window, he tried to occupy his thoughts but it was useless. The pain throbbed in his skull. He didn’t want to wake anyone with his roar. He did his best to suppress the instinct in his body, the one urging him to let go.

Slowly, gritting his teeth, he made his way to the greenhouse.

The blue rose had been losing petals at an alarming rate. All the stems had rotted except one. The central one still held on. Its dark colour hadn’t faded yet but some of its leaves were already sickened by decay. It was getting worse.

He lay down beside the bush, wrapped himself in his cloak and drifted into a restless sleep.

[linkemon]

Beauty and the Beast (Bakugō Katsuki x Reader) 14

ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏ ᴋᴀᴛꜱᴜᴋɪ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴄᴜʀꜱᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ʙᴇᴀꜱᴛ. ʟᴏᴄᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄᴀʟ ᴏʙᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ʜɪꜱ ꜱᴜʙᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ, ʜᴇ ꜱʟᴏᴡʟʏ ʟᴏꜱᴇꜱ ʜᴏᴘᴇ. ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ, [ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ], ꜰᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ʜᴇʀ ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ'ꜱ ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛɪᴍɪᴅᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴏᴠᴇʀʜᴀᴜʟ ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴇꜱ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ. ɪɴɪᴛɪᴀʟ ʀᴇʟᴜᴄᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ, ʙᴏʀɴꜱ ᴀ ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱʜɪᴘ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴀᴅᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ, ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɢʀᴏᴡꜱ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ.

The whole series can be found here. Part 1 is here. Part 15 coming soon.

Separation

[Reader] pulled her hood tighter, trying to shield herself from the cold wind blowing in her face. She urged the horse to go faster. The last stretch of the journey awaited her. Over the past few days of travel, fatigue had caught up with her but there was no time for a long rest. She slept in barns and abandoned buildings and twice allowed herself the luxury of staying in an inn. Mostly, though, it was for the exchange of her animal. She promised herself that if the opportunity arose, she would buy back her hoofed companion on the way back. At that moment, she needed a well-rested steed as quickly as possible. So, she used the money Bakugō had given her and rushed through the forests and fields to the road leading to the city. Katsuki... She tried to focus on the task ahead but the look in his concerned eyes lingered with her. She saw how badly he wanted to leave the palace and help. It wasn’t just him, though. The magical friends bid her farewell with sadness, wishing her good luck. Leaving the place where she had spent the last few months was difficult.

She repeated the plan in her head. It helped calm her down and passed the time. The priority was to take Eri from the residence. She couldn’t stay there if the research had started again. That was her task, as she was the only one able to leave the palace. And Katsuki, along with his friends, promised they would lift the curse. They would gain some time once the snow completely covered the roads. No one would be able to push through with a large group if the white snow covered the pass. [Reader] and Overhaul had been particularly stubborn last winter. Few people would have been prepared for that. If Chisaki sent single individuals after them, they should be able to handle it. However, she didn’t think he would because it would be practically pointless.

She was especially grateful to Hatsume when she announced that she was leaving her investor and would collaborate with them. Apparently, she had already taken a large advance and bought a stock of materials, so after hearing their plan, she decided to join. It was her with her strange machine that helped them predict how much time was left before the snowstorm that would block the roads. With that date in mind, [Reader] set out as quickly as possible. Of course, there was always the risk that the inventor had made a mistake and she made sure to let them know more than once but they didn’t find another way out.

After everything, in spring, they all planned to abandon the palace for good. Before leaving, the king tried to persuade her all evening that she should leave with her sister as soon as it started to warm up, even if he couldn’t find a way to break the curse. She stubbornly repeated that she wasn’t leaving without him and they couldn’t reach an agreement. She didn’t want to give up on him, even if her sister was in danger. She planned to leave with everyone. It had to work, as she had no other options.

The estate hadn’t changed much since the last time she was there. At least not on the outside. She sighed with relief as she watched the guards, whom she already knew, taking their posts. She watched them from one of the tall trees surrounding the wall. Their plan had only changed slightly from what she remembered. If Overhaul was expecting someone, it certainly wouldn’t be her, who was already familiar with the routine. Besides, for serious threats, he had people inside. It was getting caught by them that she feared most.

The opportunity came shortly before dawn. Though the men patrolled the area, they did it reluctantly. More for show than out of true vigilance. A few of them had been awake all night, so she easily slipped past them. She left the horse behind one of the coniferous trees. Almost all of her belongings were in the saddlebags. She began the quick climb up the wall. It wasn’t an easy task, especially since the last time she had done something similar was when she had tried to escape from a beast. In the town, she had bought a hook and rope. Usually, when she worked for Overhaul, she would descend or move horizontally but now she was climbing upwards. She had to do it as quickly as possible. Her muscles ached from the effort. When she stood at the top, gasping silently, a soldier appeared below. She barely avoided his gaze as she leapt to the other side. She defied gravity again, making her way onto the roof. Eri’s room was at the very top and the only window in it was fairly small. Still, she thought she could squeeze through it. It only now occurred to her that it wasn’t really about the chance of escape but more about the fear. Chisaki Kai evoked different emotions in people. In her and her sister. And it was that fear that kept her from taking her sister and simply leaving in the night. They had nowhere to go and he would probably find them anyway. He would likely punish one of them while the other had to watch. She had thought that way for a long time. Today, she wanted to change everything.

She carefully peeked through the glass. There was no one in the room except for her sleeping sister. She took one last look behind her. She rubbed her eyes. For a moment, she thought it was just the darkness playing tricks on her but no. In the distance, a group of people appeared. They were walking on foot. She recognized who was leading them. The boy with a slight hunch that his cloak couldn’t hide. Her fiancé — Shigaraki Tomura. And right next to him, cloaked in black, Kurogiri. The same one she had learned more about from Bakugō a few months ago. Such a large group? If they were planning to attack someone with the Shie Hassaikai, where were the horses? They were sneaking silently, occasionally emerging from behind trees, just like she had earlier. She was almost sure she heard a faint clink of weapons. The patrols in the forest were probably already gone. She impatiently knocked on the window, trying to wake Eri. It looked like Shigaraki hadn’t come for any deals. He was an unwelcome intruder. He planned to attack the residence.

Her sister sleepily looked at her and for a moment was speechless. She threw off the blanket and rushed to her. [Reader] couldn’t hold back the tears filling her eyes. Finally, after so many months, she could see Eri again. She squeezed into the room and pulled the girl into a tight embrace.

— [Reader]? You’re back? — Her voice was full of disbelief but also joy.

— Yes. — She wiped her tears. — We don’t have time but we need to leave. Dress as warmly as you can.

Without wasting time, she rushed to the wardrobe and pulled out the thickest coat she could find. Her sister obediently began putting on the clothes she was given but her movements betrayed her tiredness.

— B-but... how do we escape? Overhaul will be angry. At you... and at me too. — Her hand froze mid-dressing.

She had to ponder about what [Reader] had thought earlier. Chisaki Kai punished anyone who didn’t obey him. In many ways.

— I know you’re scared but I have friends who will help us. We have to get to them as fast as we can.

[Reader] anxiously glanced at the door. She barricaded it the best she could using the bed and chairs. It wouldn’t hold much but it would slow down whoever came. The first louder sounds in a long time reached her ears. It was the clanging of weapons. Someone shouted. Eri looked at her with wide, saucer-like eyes. She pulled her by the hand. It was time for the climb back. She expected to see fighting outside but a few meters from the wall lay dead guards. The same ones she had avoided earlier. Their armor was stained red. So, the attackers were making their way deeper into the building. She took a deep breath to calm herself for at least a second. It felt like her mind had stopped working. She stared at the corpses, breathing heavily. She was brought back to reality by Eri’s touch. She squeezed her hand tightly.

— We need to go! — The little girl seemed frightened but also determined.

[Reader] gripped the scabbard of the dagger the king had given her before leaving. There was no time for fear. They had to run. They reached the wall. Eri wasn’t as good at climbing as she was. She helped her up as best she could. When she stood at the top, she looked toward the residence. On one of the balconies stood Shigaraki. His cloak fluttered from a distance. She had never seen him like this before. He was unnaturally fast. She had always thought he was slow and let others do the work. In just a few seconds, he had passed a few people and swung a sword. First, blood splattered. Then she heard a scream. Only after a moment did it hit her what had happened. Chisaki Kai had no arms. He was screaming. Tomura stood over him, whispering something in his ear. She had imagined many times how her life could change if the owner of the so-called orphanage simply died. Now he was lying in agony and she felt nothing. No sympathy, no relief.

They began to make their way through the forest. [Reader] felt the rising panic. Her horse was surely somewhere nearby. She had tied it up tightly. The battle shouldn’t have spooked it, unless...

— Looking for something? — Kurogiri appeared as if out of nowhere.

His black cloak fluttered ominously against the backdrop of white snow. The man was holding the reins. It was her horse, nervously stepping on the soft snow.

Eri hid behind her. She regretted not having a sword with her now. It was too heavy and cumbersome for this trip.

— What do you want? — [Reader] asked.

— From you? Nothing. As you probably know, Beauty, the engagement is canceled. Hand over the child and I’ll let you go.

They didn’t have time to waste. Every minute gave Tomura more time to send more of his people here or, worse, show up in person.

— We both know you won’t let me go.

She had been a witness to the great massacre. It would be inconvenient to leave her alive. Especially since she had worked for Chisaki, who was now bleeding out in the residence.

— I’ve always told him you have more brains than beauty. — He grinned horrifically. — We didn’t come here with any thoughts of you. We only wanted to expand our... business. But Overhaul shared some interesting facts with us. We’ll aim higher than before. The council is too little. We’ll get rid of whoever needs to go and finally, proper order will prevail.

— Why are you telling me this? — the girl asked, drawing a dagger from under her cloak.

— Because the dead keep secrets! — With these words, the man lunged straight at her.

Eri squeaked and ran a bit further away. [Reader] barely avoided the strike. Kurogiri saw through her at the last moment and pulled back. He attacked again. He too had a short dagger. Apparently, he didn’t plan to take part in the attack at all. He was probably just supposed to support the others and now he had been given the task of finding the escapees. She swung again. The blade slid off his. She kicked the opponent. The man fell into the snow. She lunged for another attack and that was a mistake. He had only pretended to be defenseless. He swept her legs out from under her and now she was on her back in the snow. She was winded. She swung blindly and hit his side. The red stain was small but Kurogiri hissed in pain. In a fury, he knocked her weapon from her hand and pinned her to the ground. The girl couldn’t do anything. She helplessly watched as he raised his arm. Until a grimace appeared on his face. Moments later, he collapsed on top of her. [Reader] knocked him off. Behind him stood Eri. Her ragged breath formed a mist in the cold air. She was holding a rock in her hand. She had to hit the man in the head with it. She looked at the stone with disgust and tossed it aside.

— Are you okay? — [Reader] asked.

— I didn’t want to do it — her sister admitted — but I couldn’t let him kill you.

— He’s still alive — the girl said, checking his pulse. — I think you just stunned him.

It would probably have been wise to kill him but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She had never taken a life. Besides, they didn’t have much time.

She mounted the still slightly startled horse. Eri settled in front of her. She tightened her grip on the steed’s sides and urged it forward as best she could. They had several days of riding ahead. Dawn was approaching. The sun was slowly rising over the horizon.

It was hard to tell if anyone would chase after them since it wasn’t her sister who was the main target of the attack. Had Chisaki passed on information about his research to the enemy? She didn’t know but she had to assume so.

She was also worried that Shigaraki wanted something more now than he had before. He had changed his plans. What could be better for him than influence in the council of nobles? She tried to remember everything she had heard about him before, piecing together what little she remembered from the rare meetings. When she finally understood the truth, she felt herself stiffen. It couldn’t be about THAT, could it? The highest power could only be held by the king. Even if, in theory, the country didn’t have a ruler at the moment, if one were found, they would surely rule over everything and everyone. And now, with the Shie Hassaikai mostly broken up, where would the factions go? To Tomura. He had a strong chance of declaring himself king. According to Kurogiri, he was ready to get rid of anyone necessary and he had said that right after the attack on the residence. Now, there was only one person whose death he needed for complete victory. The one who could undermine his efforts to ascend the throne because he was its rightful heir. Only Chisaki Kai could tell him where he was, as he alone, besides [Reader], knew he was still alive and could point to his location. She bit her lip and urged the horse along the side road. Eri was slowly falling asleep, resting her head on her chest. The snow still kept falling, erasing their tracks.

When spring comes, Overhaul won’t break into the palace, but Shigaraki will. And he won’t just be looking for Eri. He’ll also come for Katsuki…

[linkemon]

Beauty and the Beast (Bakugō Katsuki x Reader) 13

ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏ ᴋᴀᴛꜱᴜᴋɪ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴄᴜʀꜱᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ʙᴇᴀꜱᴛ. ʟᴏᴄᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄᴀʟ ᴏʙᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ʜɪꜱ ꜱᴜʙᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ, ʜᴇ ꜱʟᴏᴡʟʏ ʟᴏꜱᴇꜱ ʜᴏᴘᴇ. ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ, [ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ], ꜰᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ʜᴇʀ ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ'ꜱ ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛɪᴍɪᴅᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴏᴠᴇʀʜᴀᴜʟ ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴇꜱ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ. ɪɴɪᴛɪᴀʟ ʀᴇʟᴜᴄᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ, ʙᴏʀɴꜱ ᴀ ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱʜɪᴘ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴀᴅᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ, ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɢʀᴏᴡꜱ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ.

The whole series can be found here. Part 1 is here. Part 14 coming soon.

Celebration

[Reader] looked out the window. Queen Mitsuki certainly had a beautiful view of the park from here. There wasn’t much left of it now but she could still imagine it.

She still had a slight problem grasping where she was. The room of Katsuki’s late mother. The one she had been forbidden to approach for so long. Now, however, it sparkled with cleanliness. Of course, she tried not to move anything around but the room no longer looked as if time had completely stopped there.

A tiny smile appeared on her face. Ochako had been very happy lately. Her coworkers were too. After the king told them all his old story, there was quite a stir. Many questions arose, some tears were shed but there was also a definite sense of relief. It was something everyone had been waiting for. As it turned out, it wasn’t just the featherduster that cared deeply for the truth. Eijirō cried, saying something about how unmanly it was. After all, he also remembered Izuku. They had trained together. He also had a different opinion of him than Bakugō did. He had become the Captain of the Guard right after Izuku’s death and though he tried to perform his duties properly, he always felt, deep inside, as if he could never live up to his predecessor. As if he was just a substitute. Now, with peace in his heart, he saluted the picture of the freckled hero in the dining room every day.

— I see you’re happy about the ball — La Brava began.

She had put on a lace skirt made from stretched hair ties. From time to time, she turned around, splashing tea, to hear words of praise from her beloved.

— We knew you’d change your mind — Gentle whistled.

— I haven’t changed my mind — [Reader] denied.

— Darling, I know you don’t like balls — Ochako handed her a brush — but it’s a tradition. The queen always held a party at this time.

The featherduster didn’t add, of course, that it was all an excuse for Katsuki to take advantage of the romantic atmosphere. Nor did she plan to mention how much he himself disliked the idea. The magical objects must have worked hard to bring the celebration to life. Especially since neither side seemed particularly interested in it.

However, the truth was that her employer — the queen — always celebrated the harvest’s end. Traditionally, it happened at the end of autumn. However, she tried to delay it as much as possible. When the cold came, people started tightening their belts. It was the perfect time to use it to help others. Much of what was left was given away. Extra help was also hired for the palace, providing work for those in need.

— You look beautiful! — Denki burst into the room.

Ochako had to admit he was right. [Reader] was a beauty. Now, though, she seemed even prettier. She had pinned her hair and put on heels. She had long refused to wear the queen’s dress. Many of them were eaten by moths but a few remained intact, thanks to being covered by furs long ago. The girl didn’t want to tarnish Mitsuki’s memory. Katsuki, however, had clearly given the maid permission. He had said that since the clothes were just lying there and deteriorating, they might as well be used. He wasn’t sure if he would have let anyone wear them. But this was [Reader]. Who else would respect them, if not the one who so respected his late mother? So now, the girl was gliding through the palace halls in a dazzling gown. She chose one of the lighter and more modest ones but it was still an elaborate dress. The yellow material shimmered with tiny golden specks in the candlelight. It was already getting dark. Nature had been still for several weeks. Outside, only bare trees remained, moving in rhythm with the wind.

The recently cleaned ballroom looked magnificent. Denki had a great time lighting every possible candle in the chandeliers. The fire roared in the fireplace. [Reader] had to blink several times to make sure her eyes weren’t deceiving her. Katsuki was standing by the table, adjusting the dishes. However, he wasn’t in his usual tattered clothing. He was wearing an expensive-looking tuxedo and trousers. He didn’t have shoes on. Apparently, none of them fit his clawed feet. For many, it probably wouldn’t have been a beautiful sight but to the girl, what mattered was that he had tried. At least she wasn’t the only one spending the evening in elegant attire.

She stopped behind him with her small entourage. The beast turned around. For a moment, she couldn’t read the emotion on his face. Her gaze wandered.

— If you’re going to laugh, I’ll strangle you — she said after the objects moved a chair for her.

— You look... — There was a pause. — Unusual — Bakugō finished.

She simply raised her eyebrows in response.

— You too — she said.

Gentle tapped a lid. La Brava clinked a saucer after him. Eijirō couldn’t hold it in. He loudly rang the loudest chime he could with a murderous look.

Ochako was the only one who took pity on the king. She tried to mouth, with tiny lips, what he should say but she was ignored. After all, he used to go to balls. It was true that he hated them but he still knew what one should say in such situations. It was time for a compliment. She hoped it wasn’t an act of sabotage for convincing him to throw the party.

[Reader] looked at the row of cutlery. She had to admit it frightened her. Since she arrived, she had only used a spoon, fork and knife. The sight of all the silverware reminded her of etiquette lessons at Overhaul’s estate. There, any mistake was punished with a strike. The teacher always had a ruler with him, the same one he used to arrange each plate on the tablecloth. Those who made mistakes got their fingers slapped.

Katsuki poured her the first of the dishes. Unconsciously, she froze with her hand hovering over several different spoons. Her mind seemed to shut off. The king watched her for a moment. The sound of slurping woke her from her trance. Gentle took a deep breath, seeing what was happening. He turned his gaze away, not wanting to watch the etiquette crime unfolding at the table. Furthermore, now that they were fighting for such a righteous cause to bring the two of them closer together...

Bakugō drank directly from the bowl. [Reader] glanced at him, at the cutlery and back at him. Right. He didn’t care how he ate his meal. She picked up a dish, then did what he did. Sure, it was a ball, but the person she was celebrating with was someone she knew. She finished the rest of the dishes with the same fork. Finally, she had the dessert. With her fingers. Contrary to her fears, it wasn’t stiff. Katsuki behaved as usual (to the horror of his subjects).

— Time for a dance! — the Captain of the Guard called in a loud voice.

— Dance? — Bakugō asked incredulously.

That hadn’t been part of the plan. Of course, he remembered that after dinner, it was the time when couples gathered to dance but the objects had only mentioned the meal. Besides, where were they going to get music from? Before he could bring up the subject, Denki turned the crank of a strange box. It looked like a creation by Hatsume. As he soon discovered, it was a huge and rather loud music box. It played a calm and very familiar tune. The sounds filled the room. It made him realize how quiet the palace had been for so long. A few years ago, the rooms often resounded with different notes. Then came a period of dead silence. Even conversations were rare. The subjects tried to initiate them but he always cut them off. He looked at [Reader]. She had changed everything. Or rather, she was the one who had started the process of change? He didn’t expect that, since that April day, his world would slowly begin to regain its colours.

Ochako looked at him meaningfully. She pointed at [Reader].

Katsuki stretched out his clawed paw. The girl looked at him as if she wanted to say something but she held back. Hesitantly, she offered him her hand. Taking steps was difficult. He now had a huge body, which was quite an obstacle. Besides, he hadn’t danced in a long time. The last time he attended a lord’s ball, they had tried hard to pair him up with someone he didn’t even remember anymore. He had barely cared for his partner. He slipped away as quickly as he could.

Now it was different. He knew that [Reader] was called "The Beauty" But he felt that the term was used in too shallow of a sense. As if it didn’t capture the essence of the word. As they awkwardly twirled around the large hall, he had a wonderful view in front of him. It wasn’t even about how well the royal dress of his mother suited her. More about how it reminded him of all the good things that had happened in his life recently.

— Have you completely spaced out? — The girl’s voice snapped him out of his trance. — Don’t sleep!

— What makes you think that? — Katsuki raised an eyebrow.

— I’ve stepped on your foot three times already and you’re not saying anything — she laughed.

— Maybe I was just being nice and didn’t want to say anything? — The corner of the king’s mouth lifted.

— I know you too well — [Reader] replied. — We can’t dance like that! — she added after a moment, letting go of his paw.

The objects clinked loudly. The chandelier made a sound like a little gulp, extinguishing all its candles. La Brava suggested a calming cup of tea. Gentle muttered under his breath about how all their work had gone to waste.

— Let’s try something livelier. Just tap the rhythm. If it works, I won’t have to step on your feet.

The girl started clapping. The magical objects quickly caught on. This time, the pair danced sideways. The beast had to admit it was much more comfortable. Even though he had no real idea what they were doing.

— Did you learn this dance from Overhaul? — Katsuki asked.

— No, but I’ve seen it at fairs a few times. I could never try it because I had to work. It’s nice to finally be able to do it! — [Reader] shouted over the melody from the music box.

This was definitely not how he had imagined the ball. She probably hadn’t imagined it this way either. After all, both of them had to endure such events for a long time and neither of them liked them. Yet, as it got darker outside, he felt like he was actually enjoying himself. If every party brought with it these feelings stirring inside him, he wouldn’t mind if they happened more often.

When they ran out of breath, they collapsed on the old rug in front of the fireplace. Katsuki, encouraged by the girl, began telling the story of how he defeated the dragon. It had cost them dearly. Many soldiers from the army had died. When they were about to retreat, he announced that he wouldn’t be a coward. He couldn’t let all their sacrifices be in vain. He managed to break through and deal a fatal blow to the dragon’s stomache, between its loose scales. The massive, red body collapsed with a crash amid cheers for the ruler. He could still hear the sound of applause in his ears.

— I’ve never told anyone this but that last strike was a trick that Master Toshinori showed Izuku. He tried to teach me too but I couldn’t get the hang of it. He kept saying that when I needed it, I’d be able to do it. Both of them had to die for me to pull it off. — Katsuki stared at the two swords hanging above the fireplace. One gold, one silver. The objects probably thought they would make perfect decorations for the occasion.

— Teach me that move. — [Reader] suddenly stood up and grabbed Midoriya’s old weapon. — We haven’t practiced today.

She looked a bit comical. She tossed her high heels aside. In her golden dress, she took the starting stance. If his mother saw how her favourite holiday was turning out, she’d probably scold him. Then, right after, she’d join in, encouraged by his father.

He drew the sword from its scabbard. Everything revolved around the wrist movement. If it was precise enough, you could spin the tip of the sword and disarm a much stronger opponent. That’s how he hit the gap between the dragon’s scales and Izuku made it to the final of the tournament. Unfortunately, old Toshinori was right, it rarely worked. Though he explained the theory to [Reader], he couldn’t show her the perfect move in practice. It required something more. A situation where everything was at stake. A higher need. A moment when a warrior fights for something greater, giving everything and even more.

They didn’t spend much time this way. The clothes restricted their movements. Bakugō heard the snap of one of the trouser legs from his keen hearing. Ochaco had been working on them for days. He was sure she’d scold him for that. Plus, he was sweating more than usual. He felt it was time to declare the end of the fun but he didn’t want to end it yet. Even though he’d come reluctantly at first.

[Reader] was standing on one of the largest balconies. She was inhaling the cold air, staring at her hand. He joined her. A quickly melting snowflake rested on her hand. It was the first snow of the winter. The white slowly covered everything around them. It even found its way into the girl’s hair. Without a word, the beast covered her with his cloak. It had been lying over a chair until now but he decided it was time to use it.

— Don’t be foolish. You’ll catch a cold if you stay out here in this chill. Let’s go back inside. — Katsuki heard the displeased murmurs of his subjects.

He knew what they were after. They still hadn’t given up hope that [Reader] could be the one to break the curse. They wanted to create an opportunity for him to confess how he felt. And they were probably right. They had been cursed because of him. They wanted to be human again. But what if he truly didn’t know what to do? He didn’t know what he felt. Was this love already? Or did it just seem like it? Maybe it was better to leave her in peace and enjoy these moments at least? After all, she couldn’t stay here forever. Outside, her sister remained. And even if the spell would be lifted, who was he really? A king without a kingdom, in a palace in the middle of nowhere. Besides, did he even deserve her? He had been trying to change but was it enough? All these thoughts swirled in his mind. It was so unlike him. He had always known what to do. Until now.

— Katsuki? — [Reader] looked him straight in the eyes.

— Yes? — His voice was quiet, as if trying to match the snowy silence around them.

— In the summer, you said that one day you’d completely turn into a beast. I want to know...— she carefully chose her words — ...is there a way to break the curse?

He didn’t know how to respond. Should he tell the truth? But if he did, would he ruin his chances? After all, love had to be real. It couldn’t be out of pity. He was still a monster, so whatever was between them couldn’t yet be real love. At least not enough to break the spell.

— It’s possible but...

The silence stretched uncomfortably. He knew he should say something. But he couldn’t bring himself to come up with an excuse.

— Here you are! — A familiar voice shattered the silence into pieces.

The magical objects let out groans of displeasure. It had been going so well. Reluctantly, they shuffled to greet the guest.

At the doorway stood Hatsume Mei in person. Wrapped from head to toe, she was shaking the snow off her clothes, completely unaware of the angry stares from everyone around her.

Bakugō didn’t like the sight of her. Some time ago, he had paid her a hefty sum in exchange for information when the time came. This could only mean one thing.

— I promised I’d let you know when my new investor’s project started. And here I am! — She settled comfortably near the remains of the dinner.

So it was exactly as he had thought. The work on the potion would continue. He shot a quick glance at [Reader]. She had apparently connected the dots too, as her expression changed to one of fear.

[linkemon]

Beauty and the Beast (Bakugō Katsuki x Reader) 12

ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏ ᴋᴀᴛꜱᴜᴋɪ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴄᴜʀꜱᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ʙᴇᴀꜱᴛ. ʟᴏᴄᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄᴀʟ ᴏʙᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ʜɪꜱ ꜱᴜʙᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ, ʜᴇ ꜱʟᴏᴡʟʏ ʟᴏꜱᴇꜱ ʜᴏᴘᴇ. ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ, [ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ], ꜰᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ʜᴇʀ ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ'ꜱ ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛɪᴍɪᴅᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴏᴠᴇʀʜᴀᴜʟ ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴇꜱ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ. ɪɴɪᴛɪᴀʟ ʀᴇʟᴜᴄᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ, ʙᴏʀɴꜱ ᴀ ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱʜɪᴘ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴀᴅᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ, ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɢʀᴏᴡꜱ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ.

The whole series can be found here. Part 1 is here. Part 13 coming soon.

Fixing Mistakes

— What is Your Highness thinking about? — Ochaco approached Katsuki, her tail sweeping the floor.

Not long ago, she might have ignored him altogether. But now, she decided to risk interaction. The king was sitting in the greenhouse, looking rather dejected. His absent gaze was fixed on a blue rose bush. In his massive hand, he held a silver sword — one Ochaco was all too familiar with. She quickly averted her eyes, unwilling to look at it. Outside the window, the first autumn leaves had begun to fall. In the distance, she could hear the cheerful laughter of her coworkers and [Reader]. Dusk was settling in. They were probably heading back inside to sleep.

— I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to talk to you. — Bakugō set the weapon aside, as if not wanting to force her to look at it.

— Is Your Highness feeling unwell? — Ochaco asked.

— I’m fine. As always — Katsuki emphasized. — I feel great.

Since the summer heat had passed, his condition wasn’t as bad as before but she still worried about his health. Day by day, the flower withered, and with it, their remaining time diminished. She herself moved slower than she once could. She feared what the future might bring. What if, one day, she became completely immobilized?

— So, it must be about [Reader]. — She knowingly winked with the crystalline part of her eye.

In the summer, they’d had a fierce argument. Even though — as she had quietly observed — they eventually made up, she feared things might still be awkward between them. Yet that wasn’t the case. For a few days, they kept their distance but soon they returned to their sword training. Clearly, they missed it too much to avoid each other. Thus, they found themselves back at square one. She worried she’d have to intervene since it didn’t seem like anything was going to progress. She even had a few plans in mind.

— [Reader]…— Bakugō rarely found himself at a loss for words. — [Reader] is a topic for another time. — He cleared his throat. — I wanted to talk about Midoriya.

Ochaco was definitely not prepared for that. How many people with that surname could the king know? She was sure it could only be the one she was thinking of.

— What about him? Because honestly, I’m busy. I should change the bedding and maybe also…

She knew what she was doing — looking for an excuse. She was scared. But at the same time, she wanted to hear what he had to say and that terrified her.

— I wanted to apologize.

Those two words weren’t quiet. They were loud, clear and resolute. She had only heard them from him once before in all the time she’d known him. It was definitely not something he was accustomed to, even just a few years ago. But should she applaud him just for acting like a decent person? Especially after what he’d done.

— Do you think an apology is enough? — Ochaco angrily shuffled her feathers, producing a faint sound. Never before had she addressed the king without his title. But now, she wasn’t a maid. She was the fiancée of a man who had died. — That won’t bring him back! It won’t turn back time! Why? Why did you send him there?!

The emotions she had suppressed for so many years were now spilling out. She couldn’t stop them. Tears flowed down her feathers and onto the dirty greenhouse floor. They could’ve had a happy future ahead of them. And yet he had agreed to let it be destroyed.

— I know I can’t undo what I’ve done. — Bakugō didn’t avert his eyes. He looked at Ochaco, even though he knew fear would be reflected in his own gaze. He was weak but so was she. It was a weakness [Reader] had explained to him months ago. He felt what he was doing now was right. Even if it meant the maid would hate him forever for reopening a wound she’d tried to forget. — I want to be a better person than the man I was years ago.

— I don’t know if I’m ready to forgive you — she stated coldly. — But I want to know one thing. Why did you send him into that fight?

— Do you really want to know?

— Yes.

Katsuki’s mind wandered back several years.

The young prince sat on the raised platform, unable to believe what he was seeing. Just one duel ago, he had been leaning his head on his hand, yawning ostentatiously. He couldn’t participate in the whole affair, so all he could do was laugh at most of the knights who had come to the court to compete. He knew exactly where they made mistakes and how they could avoid them. Most of them at least had the dignity to surrender when the situation became unwinnable but not him. Not Izuku Midoriya. The son of a deceased knight and an impoverished noblewoman. Normally, Katsuki wouldn’t have bothered himself with someone so lowly. But the boy occupied the time of the old master, Toshinori. The man was a role model in swordsmanship — a rare authority in Bakugō’s life. Toshinori claimed Izuku had a great chance of winning the tournament. Katsuki had laughed out loud at this just days ago, though Kirishima had also supported the claim.

In the final duel, Midoriya lost both his horse and his weapon. His sword, struck from his hand, flew out of the arena. Severely battered, he still didn’t surrender. The spectators murmured loudly, marveling at his determination. His armor, fastened in an oddly unconventional way, became an asset as he shed most of it and climbed a nearby tree with the last of his strength.

— Coward! — Katsuki shouted. — Face him in battle!

— Stop this at once. — His mother gave him a warning look. — He hasn’t broken any rules.

So what? Maybe he hadn’t. But duels were supposed to be proof of chivalry. A showcase of strength, power and skill. And what was he doing? Constantly pulling tricks just to avoid fighting those stronger than himself.

Izuku climbed onto a branch. He leaned dangerously toward his opponent. The crowd buzzed with both criticism and cheers. The loudest voices belonged to Inko — his mother — and Ochaco — his fiancée and the queen’s handmaiden. Midoriya made sure the branch would hold him, then leapt down, landing firmly on both feet. He startled the horse, causing its rider to tumble to the ground. Izuku had been waiting for this moment. He dashed toward the sword, grabbing it before his opponent could rise. From there, it was only a matter of time. The element of surprise worked. The onlookers saw the flash of steel. For a brief moment, they heard the clash of swords. The fight ended with a trick his master had taught him. Victory.

The crowd erupted. The courtiers looked disgusted, as did the prince, with a few exceptions. But the commoners, watching from afar, chanted the victor’s name at the top of their lungs. Midoriya was their hero. A poor boy who worked in the stables. Aside from his father’s lineage, he was almost no different from them. That’s why the nobles hated him. Young Bakugō couldn’t bear to look at him for a completely different reason. This wasn’t a real victory. Not in his eyes. Even if the fight followed the rules, what was he, really? A mere fraud. He relied on tricks. The sword was just an accessory. He shouldn’t have risen to the top. Katsuki cast a glance at a familiar figure. Master Toshinori was growing weaker by the day. His once-golden hair was graying at an alarming rate. An old wound troubled him more and more often. Yet now, as he looked at his pupil, pride shone in his eyes, making him seem young again. Katsuki scoffed loudly and did the only thing that made sense. He stood up from the ornate golden throne and walked away.

— Where are you going? — The old hag stopped him with a gesture. — The ceremony is about to begin.

According to tradition, as the previous year’s champion, he was supposed to congratulate the new one. He had no desire to do so.

— I’m going back to the palace — he grumbled and descended from the platform.

— You’re a prince! — Queen Mitsuki nearly rose from her seat. She’d had enough of her son’s whims. She was glad that, amid the commotion, only her trusted royal guards could hear them. She didn’t need gossip spreading. — It’s your duty!

— I never wanted to be one! If not for you…— He didn’t finish the sentence. He left.

— Your Highness, shall we bring the prince back? — Aizawa asked. He had served the family for years. She knew he wouldn’t cause problems if she ordered him to bring Katsuki back by force.

— That won’t be necessary — Masaru interjected. — Let him cool off, darling. You know he’s upset because of old Toshinori.

Of course. She hadn’t thought of that. Her husband knew. As always, he assumed she did too. But it was quite the opposite. It was no secret that the rule of Musutafu was hers. Her beloved didn’t have a head for it. She handled most matters of great importance. He didn’t mind and loved her for it. But when it came to raising their son… The boy had inherited her temperament. She wasn’t a bad mother but she wasn’t the best either. She was always absent. She didn’t have Masaru’s gift for noticing what people were going through unless they told her outright. And Katsuki was as closed off as she had been in her youth… She shook her head helplessly. She’d handle the nomination herself. Young Midoriya deserved recognition. They’d talk in the evening. At least she thought there’d be time.

Katsuki never got to have a proper conversation with his mother after their argument. He never brought it up again but the truth was, he regretted it. That evening, he snuck out into the city. Disguised, he slipped into the crowd of celebrating people. On the one hand, they reminded him of his loss, on the other, they helped him unwind. In the end, the benefits won. When he returned in the morning, he threw himself into training. Only the mournful toll of the bell brought him news of tragedy. His father’s face, as he told him his mother was dead, expressed a grief he had never seen in anyone before.

At the funeral, Katsuki felt out of place. As if he weren’t the main mourner. As if he were there by accident. He didn’t cry. He didn’t even feel like it. The next day, he returned to the training grounds. When he focused on the ache in his muscles, it felt like everything was as it used to be. But then his father followed his mother. The doctors said he died of heartbreak. On his deathbed, he spoke very little. Katsuki was furious with him. Couldn’t he have lived just a little longer? He left him with the crown weighing heavily on his head. With all the responsibilities he had always wanted to escape.

Not long after, old Toshinori decided it was time to die too. Katsuki had had enough. All this leaving was selfish. And cowardly. Everyone abandoned him.

The only one who stayed was Midoriya. That freckled brat whose face Katsuki didn’t even want to see. The one who was supposed to be nominated as Captain of the Guard. The ceremony had been delayed due to mourning. It couldn’t be postponed any longer.

With hatred in his eyes, Katsuki handed him the sword. As tradition dictated, it was similar to his own. Instead of gold — silver, instead of rubies — emeralds. Izuku accepted it with joy. The happiness radiating from his face burned the newly crowned king like fire. Why was he so happy? His mentor was dead. The same man who had brought him to where he now stood. He’d cried before. Apparently, he’d wept when the queen congratulated him. So where were those tears now? After receiving the title, he simply stood proudly at the side. He would always be there now. Somewhere in the background. Protecting him. As if he needed that. Katsuki decided not to look at him. It was time to begin the weekly council meeting.

Kurogiri dutifully brought the documents. He was on the court by Shigaraki’s recommendation. Katsuki never fully trusted him but he had to admit the man did his job flawlessly. Until that day. Unwittingly, he signed the paper approving Midoriya's appointment to the position. Little did he know what was about to unfold.

— One of the most pressing issues we'll address at today's meeting is the dragon from the south. Just yesterday, we received troubling news about a great beast wreaking havoc in Kamino. We are therefore extremely pleased that our new Captain of the Guard will handle this threat.

They only just found out about the dragon? Oh no. From the expressions of some of Shigaraki’s supporters present, Katsuki gleaned the truth. They had known earlier. They hadn’t told anyone. But why keep it a secret?

— That’s not part of his duties, ribbit! — Countess Tsuyu interjected.

It wasn’t proper protocol to interrupt before the full report was presented but Bakugō himself wanted to hear the answer to her reamrk. He hadn’t studied the legal scrolls as extensively as his parents but he knew enough to recognize this was beyond Izuku's responsibilities.

— Oh, but it is — Kurogiri said calmly. His black cloak billowed behind him as he moved to retrieve a relatively recent scroll. — It’s an annex. A document signed by His Majesty several weeks ago. We haven’t had the chance to officially announce it yet. Everyone here knows why.

All heads turned toward the king. He wanted to kill the man on the spot because he finally understood what had happened. It must have been included in the pile of urgent documents he’d signed right after his father’s death. It had to be done. He’d tried to read everything but some of the texts were so dull and convoluted that he hadn’t reviewed them multiple times. Evidently, the document contained an unfortunate clause he had missed. His own royal seal confirmed that this was now the law. By signing Midoriya’s appointment today, he had sentenced him to face the dragon. Normally, such a task would fall to the army — or perhaps some legendary knight, though there weren’t many of those left in these parts.

Technically the palace guard could help Izuku, as he was now their superior. But one look at his face foretold what he was about to declare to everyone:

— The guard must protect His Majesty, so I will go alone to deal with the dragon. If there are any volunteers, they are welcome to join me — he said with complete composure.

A dozen swords rose into the air. Nobles, every one of them. Bakugō watched the scene unfold, his anger growing. He had been outmaneuvered. He could no longer rescind the law. He couldn’t leave to fight the dragon himself, as no one in the hall would agree to it. He had been stripped of both allies and protection. He clenched his teeth throughout the rest of the meeting, rushing to conclude it as quickly as possible.

He might have thought the new Captain of the Guard was a coward but sending him to almost certain death wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted him to cry. To beg for mercy. Anything to show that he was the person Bakugō believed him to be.

As the king left the meeting, he heard only whispers, murmurs and the desperate voices of two women. The teenager was comforting them relentlessly, promising he would return.

Katsuki poured over the law books until the moment of the departure. He found one solution: the freckled fool would have to step down from his position. That was the only way to save his life. But when he proposed it to him, Izuku refused, smiling brightly. The fool truly wanted to face the dragon. What’s more, he believed he could win.

The day Katsuki acknowledged that perhaps Midoriya wasn’t a coward was the last day he ever saw him.

Ochaco knew the rest of the story. Her fiancé had died in a senseless battle, along with all the noble knights who volunteered to fight. Only then was permission granted to use the army, which, after suffering significant losses, managed to rid the land of the mythical beast. Katsuki led the attack personally, though he had barely managed to push it through during the meeting. The only thing left to Izuku's fiancée was the sword that [Reader] had trained with and the bitter memories.

— All these years, I thought… I thought you just accepted it. That maybe it hurt you, not being first to Master Toshi. And that he won that tournament. That’s why you let him…— Tears still flowed thickly, soaking the feathers of the little broom. — Why didn’t you ever say that you found a way to save his life? And that he refused?

— It wouldn’t have changed anything. He’s still dead. Because of me. I signed that document. I sent him there. — This was the first time Ochaco saw the king cry. Nothing had prepared her for that moment. She was stunned.

A lone blue rose petal drifted sadly to the greenhouse floor.

— That’s not true. You didn’t kill him, Katsuki. Shigaraki and Kurogiri did… And… he himself… I loved him because he was the kind of person who wouldn’t shy away from duty. He did it because he believed he’d save others. Still, I’m angry at him. Maybe if he had given up, everything would have turned out differently…

There was a long silence. The only sound was the wind howling through the broken windows.

— I’m sorry, too. For thinking the worst of you — the little broom added after a pause.

The beast turned its head toward her. He felt as though a great weight that had been pressing on his heart for years had lifted. Could he forgive himself? He wasn’t sure. But he took a step forward.

— I have a request for you. Actually, two — Ochaco continued. — I still have a portrait of Izuku. I managed to save it. I’d like to hang it in the dining room, in a place of honour.

— Fine. Maybe his face won’t ruin my appetite… — The little broom’s expression told him he had gone too far. She swatted him with the damp fan of feathers as punishment.

— The second one concerns all the subjects and [Reader]. Tell them about this. They know some things but it’s time for them to know the full story. They deserve the truth. — She looked at him with hope.

He responded with a simple nod. She felt it was time to leave. This conversation had been a lot for her and tomorrow would bring a long day of work. For some reason, though, she couldn’t bring herself to stand up.

— So… tell me how things are going with [Reader]? — Ochaco laughed.

— After everything, you’re asking me about that!? — Katsuki was outraged.

— I guess that means it’s not going too well. Don’t worry, we’ll figure something out…

[linkemon]

Beauty and the Beast (Bakugō Katsuki x Reader) 11

ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏ ᴋᴀᴛꜱᴜᴋɪ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴄᴜʀꜱᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ʙᴇᴀꜱᴛ. ʟᴏᴄᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄᴀʟ ᴏʙᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ʜɪꜱ ꜱᴜʙᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ, ʜᴇ ꜱʟᴏᴡʟʏ ʟᴏꜱᴇꜱ ʜᴏᴘᴇ. ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ, [ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ], ꜰᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ʜᴇʀ ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ'ꜱ ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛɪᴍɪᴅᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴏᴠᴇʀʜᴀᴜʟ ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴇꜱ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ. ɪɴɪᴛɪᴀʟ ʀᴇʟᴜᴄᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ, ʙᴏʀɴꜱ ᴀ ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱʜɪᴘ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴀᴅᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ, ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɢʀᴏᴡꜱ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ.

The whole series can be found here. Part 1 is here. Part 12 coming soon.

When he's sick

— I could have left him there — [Reader] muttered under her breath.

The horse neighed, as if agreeing with her words. He clearly didn’t enjoy carrying Bakugō the entire way either. He wasn’t a draft animal, yet he’d been forced to transport the massive body all the way to the palace.

A few hours earlier, she’d returned to Hatsume, hoping for some useful invention but the only thing she received was a large blanket. She folded it and haphazardly secured it to the animal. Reluctantly and not without difficulty, they somehow made it to their destination, carrying the king in it.

— To the greenhouse! — Ochaco ordered as soon as they arrived.

[Reader] didn’t question her emphatic request, especially when Ochaco added that such faintings had happened several times before. The featherduster recalled the early days of the curse. The king had tried to leave his prison. Unsuccessfully. Sooner or later, the pain would strike him so intensely that he had no choice but to turn back. He could endure it for a while but eventually, an invisible force would pull him back. In the worst cases, he’d lose consciousness.

— His Majesty cannot stay too far from the rose for long — Ochaco explained curtly.

— Because of the curse? — [Reader] probed.

— That’s not for us to speak about — Kirishima said quietly.

The girl looked at the beast sprawled out in the dilapidated greenhouse. She was truly angry with him. Still, she couldn’t have left him lying on the road, not even after what he’d said. Especially since his actions contradicted his words. Bakugō wasn’t a fool. He must have known what to expect when he accompanied her. And yet, instead of leaving as quickly as possible, he had waited through her entire, long visit.

Sweat trickled down his forehead, even though the sun was setting over the forest and the air had grown cooler. From time to time, he shifted restlessly. She couldn’t just stand there watching him helplessly.

— I need cool water and towels. I won’t just sit and wait for him to wake up — she declared, leading the horse toward the stable.

— Yes, ma’am! — La Brava and Gentle wobbled toward the stairs to fetch what was needed.

— We could also try smelling salts. — Ochaco followed in their wake.

They were probably too old. They hadn’t worked well during the last such incident but it was worth a shot.

When [Reader] returned to the patient, things had only gotten worse. Nightmares must have been tormenting him. He muttered semi-coherent sentences. Once, he even swung his paw and nearly scratched her face with his claws. His rasping breaths boded ill. So, with stubborn determination, she soaked towels in cold water and placed them on his body, hoping to bring the fever down.

— Maybe I should bring a doctor from the city? — she suggested once more.

— Sweetheart, I’ve already told you it won’t help. No medicine can cure him — the featherduster explained patiently.

The enchanted objects didn’t know what to do with themselves. [Reader] redirected their anxiety into something they excelled at: cleaning. So, everyone swept the tiles, scrubbed them and pulled out weeds. Anything to avoid feeling powerless over their master.

— Besides, no human would want to come here — added the Captain of the Guard.

— I could bribe someone… or intimidate them…— the girl yawned.

Amidst Bakugō’s incoherent rambling, a few discernible words emerged.

— It’s my fault, Midoriya... — The quietly whispered, pain-laden words caught her attention.

She glanced toward Ochaco but the latter seemed preoccupied, fluttering her feathers. What had he done to her fiancé? It had to be the same man whose portrait she’d seen shortly after arriving at this place.

The darkness of the night gradually enveloped the area. The moon refused to shine. [Reader] fetched a few lamps. Their dim light seemed to fade in the presence of the blue rose bush. Wrapped in a blanket, she fought off sleep, silently observing the strange plant.

She hadn’t noticed before but it had far fewer petals than before. Some flowers lay beneath it, wilting. It looked frailer, weaker.

The thought crossed her mind that she could pluck the flower now or even uproot the entire bush. No one was around to stop her. The enchanted objects were asleep, softly snoring under clean towels.

She’d likely have to marry if she returned to the estate but there was a chance Eri would be safe, away from the experiments.

Then she glanced at Bakugō. Would she ever forgive herself if she did it? Left him here? He was gruff and uncouth. He infuriated her. Always making snide remarks. Yet there were moments when she felt he truly understood her. He probably thought he was subtle but she’d noticed. How he casually left his coat for her when she didn’t have hers and was cold. Or how he took on the hardest tasks under the guise of proving his strength. Or asked about Eri, quickly realizing how important her sister was to her. He left books that Eri might like right under her nose.

That rose held something that might help him. She couldn’t just steal it. Nor did she want to leave Bakugō behind. Her head drooped onto her shoulder as she slipped into a restless nap.

A sharp hiss woke her. It was Katsuki, groaning as he tried to sit up. He groggily scanned the greenhouse, his gaze lingering on the withered trees before settling on the blue rose. Then, his eyes shifted to the now-awake [Reader].

— Don’t move. You had a fever almost all night. — She stood and knelt beside him.

— What... happened? — he began, but didn’t finish.

— You fainted on the way back from Mei’s. We brought you to the greenhouse. Ochaco said it would help.

— You stayed here all night? — he asked, surprising her with the question.

She glanced through the glass panes. The gray sky heralded the dawn’s arrival. She felt utterly exhausted. Still, she couldn’t deny the wave of relief she felt.

— We all did. But I’m heading back now. — [Reader] tightened the blanket around herself, preparing to leave. — After all, we’re not friends. — She added bitterly.

Normally, she would have let it go but the lack of sleep had worn her down. Maybe she’d imagined he cared for her? Maybe those little gestures meant nothing? After all, most people in her life had never cared. What he’d said really stung. She thought he saw her as someone close. A pang of hurt clenched her chest. One of the few people, besides Eri, with whom she felt such a deep bond, turned out not to feel the same.

Her lip trembled dangerously. That almost never happened. And now, because of him, it was happening for the second time. She blinked furiously. She wouldn’t cry. Not because of him.

— Wait. — His quiet plea broke the silence. Katsuki reached a clawed hand toward her but pulled it back, realizing how monstrous it looked. The girl stood with her back to him, unmoving. — You need to know that... that I’ll someday become a real beast. Forever. What happened today... shows what I’ll become. I didn’t mean to say that. I thought if I did... you’d leave.

He stared at his clawed hands. He hadn’t wanted to admit it until now. He was afraid. Of what he might become. Would he forget everything he’d experienced? Would anything human remain after his next birthday?

— Why did you want me to leave? — She was still turned away.

— So you wouldn’t see — he took a deep breath — how weak I am.

He’d had plenty of time to tell her about his curse. That she should be cautious when venturing beyond the palace grounds with him. But he hadn’t. Because admitting it felt like admitting weakness. Something he’d despised all his life. Something he’d tried to eradicate in himself and others. Something he’d once accused Izuku Midoriya of.

The boy haunted his dreams. Worse still, he wasn’t even angry at him. He simply looked at him with pity, that freckled face smiling. He wasn’t sure if it wasn’t worse than outright nightmares. Because it made him feel guilty. And Bakugō Katsuki, king of Musutafu, had never felt guilty before.

— You said that so I wouldn’t see you were sick?

— That I’m cursed! Because I am! I did something wrong and now I’m this giant, hairy beast with fangs and claws. And if you’re ever going to leave, I don’t want you seeing me weak!

The enchanted objects woke up, rubbing their eyes. They only peeked their heads out from the pile of towels, quietly observing. Ochaco watched most intently. The gemstones in her feathers gleamed as if covered with tears but none of her friends commented. For the first time since her fiancé’s death, she heard her master admit guilt.

— You’re an idiot, Katsuki! A hopeless idiot. — [Reader] finally turned around. — Everyone is weak sometimes. You can’t avoid it. You can’t be strong your whole life. And that’s not bad. It doesn’t mean people will leave when they see it. I’d rather see you weak than not see you at all!

She sat beside him, surprised by her own outburst. For a while, they sat there side by side, in silence.

— Eri once told me exactly what I just told you — the girl finally added.

— Your sister’s a sharp kid — the beast remarked simply.

He didn’t show it but her words shook everything he’d believed in. He didn’t quite know what to do with this new understanding. Ideas clashed in his mind.

At some point, [Reader] began to laugh. It was so strange but at the same time so liberating, that he found the corners of his mouth lifting involuntarily.

— This whole conversation and you didn’t even say sorry. You’re hopeless at apologizing, Katsuki. Absolutely hopeless! — She leaned more comfortably against his shoulder.

Not knowing what else to do, he remained still. Her laughter gradually faded, replaced by steady breathing. He adjusted the blanket around her and stared at the slowly falling petal of the blue rose. A soft, barely audible whisper escaped his lips:

— I’m sorry.

[linkemon]

Beauty and the Beast (Bakugō Katsuki x Reader) 10

ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏ ᴋᴀᴛꜱᴜᴋɪ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴄᴜʀꜱᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ʙᴇᴀꜱᴛ. ʟᴏᴄᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄᴀʟ ᴏʙᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ʜɪꜱ ꜱᴜʙᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ, ʜᴇ ꜱʟᴏᴡʟʏ ʟᴏꜱᴇꜱ ʜᴏᴘᴇ. ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ, [ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ], ꜰᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ʜᴇʀ ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ'ꜱ ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛɪᴍɪᴅᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴏᴠᴇʀʜᴀᴜʟ ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴇꜱ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ. ɪɴɪᴛɪᴀʟ ʀᴇʟᴜᴄᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ, ʙᴏʀɴꜱ ᴀ ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱʜɪᴘ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴀᴅᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ, ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɢʀᴏᴡꜱ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ.

The whole series can be found here. Part 1 is here. Part 11 coming soon.

When you argue

[Reader] looked up. Once again, she wiped the sweat from her forehead, sighing loudly. It was unbearably hot outside. The scorching heat poured down from the sky, and she was beginning to regret not staying in the palace, where the coolness of the stone walls would have provided some relief. Bakugō trailed behind her. She suspected he did so to hide how much the weather bothered him. After all, with his thick, dark fur, such heat couldn't be pleasant.

She decided to focus on something other than the weather. Finally, she could spend some time in the saddle. It had been a long time since she'd ridden a horse. She patted the horse's neck. It seemed just as happy as she was. Besides, she was finally about to meet another human being after such a long time. The prospect excited her. While the company of magical objects was pleasant, she missed human companionship. Katsuki, upon noticing the nearly empty pantry, had declared they needed to go for supplies. From what Kaminari had babbled, she gathered that the king usually avoided such errands unless necessary. The servants typically handled the smaller tasks for him.

— Why am I the one carrying this? — the king asked, shaking the basket.

The porcelain clattered dangerously as Gentle bumped into La Brava.

— Because you're stronger than me — [Reader] replied with a sly grin. — Maybe you've forgotten but the last time we arm-wrestled, you won.

Served him right. He had boasted so much about that victory that she'd been upset with him the whole day. Only by evening had she forgiven him — and only because she'd gotten hungry. After all, he was the one making dinner and it was hard to avoid him at the table.

— That has nothing to do with this! Besides... someone filled the basket with rocks — he growled, clearly annoyed.

— Excuse me, we're right here, so please don't talk about us in the third person — Kirishima interjected.

— Then maybe you could kindly get rid of the extra weight? — Bakugō was losing patience.

— But it's my collection of rare rocks! — Denki clutched the largest one affectionately.

Each one was equally gray and dirty.

— You know I adore you but I have to say it. You found those on the courtyard. They're not rare — the girl remarked.

— Could it be you're finally agreeing with me on something? — Katsuki shook the basket again.

— Just this once. Don't get used to it. — She playfully nudged his massive arm.

Before she could get a response, everyone’s attention was drawn to the goal of their long walk. At the edge of the forest, in an overgrown corner, stood a cottage. Beyond it stretched fields of crops, forming picturesque rectangles. Vegetables extended to the horizon. While she hadn't seen such a landscape in ages, it wasn't what caught her attention.

Massive machines roamed the fields, much larger than she was. They puffed and hissed loudly, spraying water here and there, while others scattered something dark — likely fertilizer, she guessed.

Her gaze shifted back to the cottage. Everyone had said Mei was an inventor but she hadn’t expected this level of machinery. The building was surrounded by an array of shiny tubes. Some hissed, others spun between gears, while the rest remained still, occasionally emitting puffs of steam. Everything was powered by a large waterwheel.

She cast a questioning look at the king.

— You’ll get bored soon enough — he stated, grabbing the door handle.

— Shouldn't we knock?

— Knowing her, she won’t hear us anyway — Gentle whistled from within the basket.

His acquaintance with Mei was the longest among the group. After all, it was through his contacts from his old thieving days that they had managed to establish this... collaboration.

— Always busy working — La Brava chimed in with a splash.

And so, uninvited, they entered. Bakugō, unbothered by anything, plopped down in a large, worn-out armchair. Satisfied, he placed the basket on the ground with a loud thud. The magical items loudly protested and sprang out of their transportation.

She was about to scold him when a sharp, piercing noise filled the air. It turned out to be a device held by the cottage’s owner.

— This is my latest invention! It’s called a horn! — Mei exclaimed, pressing the device several times for emphasis. — I’m Hatsume and it’s a pleasure to meet my new investor.

She was exactly as eccentric as everyone had described. Her hair was dyed pink. Strange goggles perched on her eyes and a pack of tools and screws hung from her belt. She beamed widely, her face smeared with grease and what looked like jam.

— I’m [Reader] — she managed, surrendering to the inventor’s enthusiastic handshake. — I’m not an investor! — she tried to shout over the noise.

— Not yet! But you could be! Want to meet my babies?! — Mei yelled back.

— You have children?!

— Quite a few...— Katsuki muttered.

It turned out the 'babies' weren’t people. Hatsume had a long list of inventions, each her pride and joy. Various shapes, colours, and functionalities — playing, riding, edible and so much more. By the twentieth detailed explanation, [Reader] was nearing her limit. Perhaps she’d have been more fascinated if she understood the complex professional jargon Mei used.

— Help me — she nudged the king, who watched her struggle with evident satisfaction.

— When I needed help with the basket, you weren’t in any rush...— he smirked sarcastically.

She muttered something under her breath and resignedly returned her attention to a prototype of a bicycle, model thirty-four, featuring reinforced axles, a steerable handlebar and double wheels with a dynamo...

The clinking of coins interrupted the fascinating lecture. A large paw placed them on the table, and the girl felt genuine joy — Bakugō wasn’t as heartless as she had thought when she first met him. She turned to look at him. The heat must have been tormenting him greatly; patches of his fur were matted with sweat. It didn’t look good but she decided, just this once, not to tease him about it.

— His Highness would like to say — Ochaco glanced at the beast — that as investors, we’ve come for supplies.

She wanted to get straight to the point. She could see what was happening to her king. He was trying to keep up appearances but he wasn’t feeling well. He was far from the rose and the heat wasn’t helping. She wanted to stay mad at him. She truly did. But ever since he had saved her in the spring, she could no longer see him as the embodiment of evil like she used to. He had his flaws, yes. But she saw how he was changing. Ever since [Reader] had come to live with them, he was no longer the same. Even if some of his bad traits still surfaced, she could see who he truly was inside. Normally, he wouldn’t have shown up here at all. He had come solely because of the girl. Her friend had been excited about the visit and also hoped to hear any news from the area. She could have easily relied on the company of magical objects but she had asked Katsuki to join the journey and despite some grumbling, he had agreed.

Uraraka believed in the power of love to change people. Izuku had changed her and now the son of her beloved queen was experiencing the same thing. She wanted to support him in that. It could lead to something good. Of course, she cared about him regaining his human form but she also wanted Bakugō to understand the origin of the curse — to see where he had gone wrong.

Hatsume begrudgingly prepared the supplies. Machines gathered food into gray sacks. Some were loaded onto the horse, while others were meant to be carried by the king. Little featherduster was glad that the heat didn’t bother her. She couldn’t feel it but judging by everyone else, it was a real struggle. She stood outside the hut with the others, impatiently shuffling her feathers.

— Mei, I have a question — [Reader] said, stepping up to the inventor.

— You’ve decided to invest in my bicycle prototype, haven’t you?! I always knew my baby would be a success. — Hatsume hugged a package of screws to her chest.

— Not this time. You said you rarely go into town but have you heard anything? Any rumors, perhaps?

— Rumors? Well… about new fertilizers, the miller’s wife, a festival of the gifted far away and…

— What about a wealthy man? — [Reader] interrupted her. — Overhaul? His real name is Chisaki Kai.

— You know my investor? — Hatsume beamed.

Bakugō narrowed his bushy eyebrows.

— You work for him? — he asked.

— Technically, not yet. But I signed a contract with him. He came to the village about six months ago. At first, people didn’t trust him much but now even the mayor likes him. And since the mayor’s on the council, he must be a big deal now. He was so interested in my inventions that he offered me a partnership. He said he’d send for me when the time comes, so I’m still waiting here.

— You can’t work for him. — Bakugō’s words were sharp and cold.

— Why not?

— I’ll pay you more than he does but you can’t work for him — he said, turning his gaze to [Reader].

— Too late, Mr. Rich Guy. If I back out now, he’ll ban me from the town. I’m not stupid. I don’t like going there but without materials, I can’t create my babies. — Mei shrugged and walked away to tie the last sack.

— When you saw him, did you meet a little girl? Gray hair, about this tall? — [Reader] asked, looking at her with hope.

— Eri? About a week ago. Cheerful child. She was fascinated by everything I brought. Overhaul kept rambling about some potion but I wasn’t really listening. I promised to look into it when he had more details.

[Reader] exhaled deeply. Her little sister was safe — for now. It seemed Chisaki was slowly consolidating his power over Musutafu but it wasn’t the end of the world yet. She had to wait for his next moves. With relief, she bid farewell to the eccentric inventor, promising to return soon.

The horse neighed happily at her approach. It lifted its head from the river and turned toward her. It didn’t seem thrilled with the load on its back but it bore it valiantly. The girl tugged the reins, leading it toward the palace.

The heat had subsided only slightly. Crickets chirped in the tall grass, filling the silence that had settled on the way back.

— Are you okay? — [Reader] glanced at Katsuki out of the corner of her eye.

— Why wouldn’t I be? — he asked, turning his head.

— You look a little…— she began, hearing a warning growl —…weak.

She hadn’t noticed earlier how bad his condition had become. With each passing minute, he seemed to sweat more profusely. His steps grew heavier and he trudged slowly, as if burdened by the weight of the sacks.

— I’m not weak. — A menacing growl escaped his throat.

A vision of a certain tournament flashed through his mind. He wasn’t weak like Midoriya. He was strong.

— Maybe we should take a break — [Reader] suggested, stopping the horse.

The raspy breathing convinced her it was the right call.

— I’m not weak — the king repeated once more.

Another wave of heat washed over his large frame. He no longer knew if it was from the weather or the anger at having his strength questioned. Green hair and a freckled face flashed before his eyes.

— You don’t have to be so angry. You just don’t look well and…

— It's not your business how I feel! — Katsuki raised his voice.

Even he was surprised by himself. He hadn’t meant to say that but the words forced their way out.

Porcelain clinked in the basket, peeking out from under its cover. Kirishima looked as if he wanted to say something, quickly spinning his hands but he changed his mind at the last moment.

— We’re friends. Of course, it’s my business!

— Maybe someone wants to touch my calming stone? — Kaminari chimed in, laughing nervously.

Ochaco covered her with feathers, turning to the pair of young people. She didn’t like where this conversation was heading.

— We’re not friends! — The king’s words cut the argument short.

[Reader] looked him straight in the eyes. With reproach. No matter how much she tried to hide it, he could see her disappointment. Her lower lip trembled slightly. She wanted to retort but ultimately only pressed her lips together tightly. She yanked the basket of magical items from his paw and tugged the reins of the horse.

Bakugō breathed deeply. His heart felt like it was racing in his chest. He hadn’t wanted to say that. A roar escaped his throat. He thought that this must be what it felt like to truly be a beast. A sweet scent filled his nostrils. His vision blurred with the image of a blue rose bush. Roaring, he blindly reached out a paw toward it but found only darkness.

— Your Highness! — his subjects cried out in unison.

A massive body crashed to the ground with a thunderous thud, kicking up clouds of dust.

— Katsuki! — The last thing he saw before his eyes closed was [Reader]’s panicked face.

[linkemon]

Loathing (Riddle Rosehearts x Reader)

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you’re interested.

Other oneshots can be found here.

ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ, ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏᴠᴇʀꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ ɪꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ-ʏᴇᴀʀ ꜱᴛᴜᴅᴇɴᴛ ᴀᴛ ɴʀᴄ ɪɴ ᴛᴇʀᴍꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴀᴄᴀᴅᴇᴍɪᴄ ʀᴇꜱᴜʟᴛꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴘᴀʀᴋꜱ ᴀ ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀᴄᴀᴅᴇᴍɪᴄ ʀɪᴠᴀʟʀʏ, ᴅʀᴀɢɢɪɴɢ ᴀʟʟ ᴏꜰ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛꜱʟᴀʙʏᴜʟ ɪɴᴛᴏ ɪᴛ, ᴡɪᴛʜ [ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ] — ʜɪꜱ ɴᴇᴡ ᴇɴᴇᴍʏ — ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴏʀᴇꜰʀᴏɴᴛ. ᴜɴᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅʟʏ ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ᴏɴ ᴀ ᴘʀᴏᴊᴇᴄᴛ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ǫᴜᴇᴇɴ ᴏꜰ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛꜱ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴡɪʟʟ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ɢʀɪᴛ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴛᴇᴇᴛʜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇɴᴅᴜʀᴇ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ’ꜱ ᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴄᴇ. ᴀɴᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ, ɪᴛ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴄʟᴇᴀʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴᴇ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ʜᴀᴛʀᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪꜱ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴛʜɪɴ…

— Don’t stare so high, you fool! You’ll end up at the bottom with me...— Deuce glanced at his friend and sighed. Reluctantly, he shifted his gaze to the lower parts of the test results board.

He had truly tried to be an exemplary student, especially after solemnly vowing to make up for his delinquent past. The promise he’d made to his mother was sacred. He had hoped to at least land in the middle of the list. After all, he’d worked hard and studied diligently for these exams. The silver lining was that he passed — and he wasn’t at the very bottom. Next time, he’d put in even more effort and study consistently — or so he hoped.

— Maybe you should study a bit yourself — he shot back, eyeing Ace, who seemed utterly indifferent to his own score.

— Oh, Deucy, Deucy. I passed, didn’t I? — Ace clasped his hands behind his head. — I think I’ll treat myself to some food. Are you coming with me?

— Wait a moment. — Deuce squeezed through the crowd of students pressing against the board.

— Staring at it won’t change your score. The sooner we leave, the better our chances of grabbing those double ham sandwiches...

— Look at this. — His friend pointed toward the very top of the giant sheet. But it wasn’t the first-year results.

— Wait, what... — Ace trailed off, his brain taking a moment to process the facts.

At the top was a name they didn't recognize. Their Prefect stood nearby, staring at the black letters on the white sheet as if it were some incomprehensible chess move. His face grew redder with each passing second, redder than the deepest roses of Heartslabyul.

Riddle Rosehearts had not taken first place among the second-years. Since they’d started attending Night Raven College, this had never happened. Considering his temperament — sharp as the beaks of flamingos — it could only mean one thing: someone was about to lose their head. Ace and Deuce had no intention of becoming the next victims of their Prefect’s infamous unique magic. So, they did exactly what the legendary soldiers of the Queen of Hearts would do — they bolted.

Riddle spent the entire class staring in disbelief as [Reader] assisted Professor Crewel in demonstrating how to properly weigh a new potion. His hand mechanically scribbled ornate cursive notes listing the ingredients but his thoughts were elsewhere. His mind kept circling back to that cursed list of exam results. He couldn’t believe it. Maybe she’d cheated? Or stolen the test questions? He wouldn’t be surprised. After all, she had transferred to NRC from Royal Sword Academy.

With that thought, he stirred the cauldron full of bubbling, shimmering liquid. He scooped a bit with the ladle — it was almost perfect. Almost. He’d have to try again in his free time. He sighed quietly as the teacher announced the end of the class. He was annoyed at himself — he’d wasted a valuable lesson on pointless musings.

At the door, Trey appeared. Apparently, the third-years had just finished their class as well. They sat together on a bench. Riddle pulled out his notebook; they had a few things to plan for the next unbirthday party.

The Prefect occasionally glanced toward the hallway. Trey, ever perceptive, didn’t miss it. Sometimes he regretted how sharp his friend was.

— So, [Reader], huh? — Trey interrupted their planning session about tart flavours.

Riddle’s pen paused for a fraction of a second before resuming at double speed.

— What about [Reader]? — he asked, panicked.

— You’ve been glancing at her since I got here. And certain little birds told me it’s the same during all your lessons. — Trey adjusted his glasses nonchalantly.

Riddle cursed all the second-years in Heartslabyul in his mind. Of course, he wouldn’t strip them of their magic. He was working on not doing that without a valid reason. Still, moments like this tested his patience.

— Those little birds should focus on studying and adhering to the Queen of Hearts’ rules instead of gossiping. They’re doing a terrible job at both so far — he finally said.

The sound of Trey’s fountain pen scratching against paper was the only thing breaking the silence. But not for long.

Riddle later regretted reaching for his water bottle. Maybe if he hadn’t, his uniform wouldn’t have ended up soaked.

— If you like her, you could just tell her. I say this as a friend — Trey blurted out.

To say the Prefect choked would be an understatement. Water splattered everywhere, soaking his crimson vest. The coughing fit caused by that one idiotic sentence lasted several minutes. Trey’s hand patting his back did little to help. Riddle could feel the stares of students loitering in the hallway and courtyard. He wasn’t sure if it was due to his sudden choking or if they’d overheard what Trey said. He deeply hoped it was the former.

His cheeks burned bright scarlet. He hated how easily his face betrayed him, especially when he was angry — and that happened often.

Just as he was about to say something, he noticed unexpected movement. The very person who was the topic of their conversation was heading straight toward him.

— Riddle Rosehearts, right? I’m [Reader]. The ‘new girl’ — she gestured air quotes — from RSA. You were staring at me all class. Got a problem? — she asked bluntly.

Riddle noted the strangely intimidating stance she’d adopted, like she’d come straight out of Savanaclaw’s rowdiest gang.

— You must've imagined it — he stated, clearing his throat.

Trey observed the exchange from the sidelines, clearly amused, his subtle smirk being the indication.

— Hmm, if you say so, then I must’ve imagined it. We should stick together, though, since we both love studying and all... Good luck on the next exam. — She flashed him a dazzling smile.

Or at least, it seemed dazzling until Trey looked away and she stuck her tongue out at Riddle as she left.

— I’ll win — she mouthed silently.

Before he could respond, she disappeared. He felt a growing fury. Was she challenging him? Fine. She had no idea what she’d signed up for. He wasn’t considered one of the best mages of his generation for nothing. He’d show her.

— Something tells me I was right... — Trey began.

— You weren’t. Quite the opposite. I don’t like her. In fact, I hate her...

— What do you mean by a different partner? — Professor Trein's gaze pierced into [Reader].

If looks could kill, she'd probably be dead by now. She was certain of that.

— What I wanted to say was...

She didn't get a chance to finish.

— I don’t know what customs were followed at your previous educational institution, Miss. I don’t care what happens in other classes. In my lectures, I expect absolute obedience, not questioning my choices. As far as I know, you and Mr. Rosehearts scored the highest marks on the previous test. I selected you based on that. The conversation is over. — The teacher returned to studying the musty tome on his mahogany desk.

She cursed the graying man in her mind. His fat cat stared at her with the same severity as its owner. A shiver ran down her spine. Was he reading her mind?

[Reader] turned on her heel. Riddle was heading toward the professor, probably with the same goal as hers.

— I wouldn't advise that. We have to do this together — she hissed warningly, grabbing his arm.

He didn’t listen to her. It was his own fault. With a slight sense of satisfaction, she watched him, moving away, receiving a scolding even worse than hers. She waited for him by the door. From what she had gathered, he wasn’t the type to easily accept criticism. Quite the opposite. That would explain his very red face.

— Ahem! — he cleared his throat loudly, making his presence known.

— Oh, I didn’t notice you. Have you finished questioning my good advice? — [Reader] asked, biting sarcastically.

— I admit, I could have... acted differently — Riddle mumbled. — But the fact remains, we need to take care of the project.

Ah yes. The source of the latest problem — history. Another thing on the long academic to-do list. The girl kept crossing out items but paradoxically, it felt like they were only multiplying.

— Got any ideas?

— If you think I'll do everything myself, you're sorely mistaken — Rosehearts declared, gripping the thick textbook tightly.

— Do you always have to assume the worst? — [Reader] headed toward the library.

— If I’m not mistaken, you challenged me not long ago. And in a very ungraceful way. — Riddle grimaced at the memory of her sticking out her tongue.

— I’m going to win against you. That hasn’t changed. But that doesn’t mean I’ll give that old man the satisfaction of failing me. — She could swear the Prefect inhaled sharply when he heard her call the professor that. — You’re stuck with me. — She grinned wickedly. — You've been in NRC longer than me, so I think it’s better if you choose which character we’ll write about.

The long essay, complete with footnotes and millions of dates, was supposed to be about a chosen figure from the Great Seven. Of course, it was hard not to hear about them. However, she knew they were especially important to this school. It was hard for her to know more than someone who had been here longer.

— The Queen of Hearts — Riddle replied without hesitation.

— I heard you two have a lot in common — the girl remarked.

— Oh... That’s... nice — Riddle said, giving her an uncertain look. He smelled an insult.

In her opinion, strictness and rigid rules didn’t equate to being “nice.” However, she decided not to correct him.

Riddle glanced around the garden one last time before gently spreading jam on the little dormouse’s nose. Everything seemed in order, so they could begin.

— Honestly? I didn’t expect non-birthday parties to be THIS big... — [Reader] watched everything she came across with interest.

She had helped repaint the roses because Rosehearts complained that she should contribute to the party. However, what she saw was very different from the state of the dormitory she had seen yesterday. Low tables were covered with snow-white tablecloths, on which colourful trays dominated, piled high with cakes, cookies, tarts, cupcakes, croissants, sandwiches... the list could go on. In the honoured place stood a huge tart with a shiny strawberry glaze. Crystalware glittered in the sunlight, brighter than the yellow-blue lanterns hanging above it. All of this was surrounded by an array of unrelated items, which looked as though someone had pulled them out of the bottom of a chest and placed them on the grass for fun. There were so many Heartslabyul students she didn’t even know, that just trying to remember their faces made her head spin.

— It has to be this size — Riddle said matter-of-factly, reaching for a teapot with a funny pattern and then elegantly poured the tea. — Otherwise, we wouldn’t be able to feed everyone and we have a full dormitory. Heartslabyul prides itself on the fact that no one has left us or dropped out of class for a long time...

— It'd be off with their heads if they tried — [Reader] laughed.

— You’re not far from the truth — interjected Cater, who was sitting nearby. — Riddle doesn’t like to brag about it — he added in a conspiratorial whisper — but it’s because of him. He makes sure everyone passes their exams. Sometimes, he even helps others personally. — He winked.

— That’s nice of you. — The girl reached for her cup and drank the tea in one gulp.

— Is that all? — The prefect shifted uncomfortably in his red chair.

— What do you mean, “is that all”? — She raised an eyebrow.

— No wicked remark? — Riddle extended his pinky, delicately lifting his drink.

A few weeks had passed since they started working on their semester essay. They had a lot of rules and customs of the Queen of Hearts to go through. That didn’t mean, though, that he had completely gotten used to [Reader]. He felt that the longer he knew her, the less he understood her.

— Even I can appreciate helping others. I’m not that heartless. — The girl shoved an entire piece of tart into her mouth, scattering crumbs everywhere.

— We’ll need to dedicate a chapter to table manners — Riddle remarked, eyeing her pointedly.

They were in desperate need of some improvement — that much he was absolutely sure of.

— Who wants to play croquet? — someone from their table called out.

[Reader] couldn’t respond with her mouth full, so her hand shot up. Exactly at the same moment, Riddle elegantly gave a short and simple: “Me.”

Riddle patiently listened to the reminder of the rules, including the traditional check of the time. After five in the afternoon, this activity was strictly forbidden. Which most students, especially his new guest, probably didn’t know.

Soon, seven-coloured flamingos were handed out as mallets and a curled-up hedgehog was set up. Rosehearts took aim and hit his target. However, it quickly became clear that while [Reader] might not match him when it came to manners, it didn’t affect her croquet. She struck again and again with tremendous force. The hedgehogs didn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, they made quite joyful sounds as they soared against the blue sky. The flamingos, however, were slow enough in their thinking that she struck them with their beaks before they had time to bend awkwardly on the bright green grass.

— Ha! Your turn! — she called out, leaning on her mallet.

Riddle wanted to add that croquet was also a team sport but when he looked around, he realized they were the only ones left on the field. The whole dormitory was watching as they had been exchanging blows for a long time. Someone even started chanting but was quickly silenced by older students.

The boy calculated the angles every time he hit the hedgehogs. He worked faster, his pace picking up. He felt like he had reached a higher level of focus. The adrenaline was pumping through his veins but his face didn’t flush. He didn’t remember the last time he got so immersed in something so seemingly simple. He wasn’t like those brutes from Savanaclaw. This game mainly served to fulfill a rule that had been set. Yet, he was having so much fun that when the referee blew the whistle to announce the end, he didn’t notice immediately.

— Watch out!

The voice came a bit too late. Unlike the straightened flamingo in [Reader]’s hand. It collided with the speeding hedgehog at the last moment. The momentum with which she swung it knocked Riddle to the ground. The world spun for a moment in a blur of white, blue and green, before finally settling to reveal [Reader]’s concerned face leaning over him.

— Are you okay? — The sun created a halo just behind her head and the boy blinked a few times.

— Yeah. — He accepted her outstretched hand.

In the distance, he heard a clicking sound. However, he decided it must have been the hungry flamingos.

— Aren’t you going to ask who won? — the girl asked, lifting the corner of her lips.

She was determinedly heading to the main table, ignoring the tense Heartslabyul students around them.

— Actually, I hadn’t thought about it — the prefect replied groggily.

— Who are you, and what have you done with my rival, Riddle? — she asked dramatically, placing a hand over her heart. — Have you finally had some fun?

— I guess so — he replied, contemplating his cooling tea cup and half-listening to the conversations swirling around them.

"My" — such a simple word, yet so shocking. Especially considering how many sentences had been said that day at the non-birthday party. Yet, for some reason, he found himself debating it in his head long after the teapot showed its snow-white bottom and the sugar cubes vanished into the hungry dormouse’s mouth.

[Reader] stared at the photo in disbelief. She had always considered social media to be a fun escape, especially when it came to mindlessly scrolling for random tidbits about her friends' lives. Now, however, she was the one becoming the subject of curiosity and the whole concept didn't sit so well with her anymore.

There, on the square, perfectly framed photo, was her and Riddle. In a rather ambiguous position. It didn’t matter that they weren’t the first in the set of ten photos Cater Diamond had taken. It was these pictures that were making the rounds. And from people at NRC, as she deduced from most of the usernames and bios. What had started as an innocent #cammable_pair had turned into #academic_rivals and #enemies_to_lovers. [Reader] promised herself she would strangle the third-year student next time she saw him, if Riddle hadn’t already cut his magic off. Now the whole school was coming up with wild theories about the two of them. Thankfully, the suggestive glances in the hallways were starting to die down.

— You're on the phone again? — Riddle huffed, carrying a stack of books.

He didn’t spend much time on the internet. Especially not on social media. He visited from time to time but didn’t post anything. Besides, Cater always summarized most of the things he found, so he didn’t feel the need.

— I wasn’t going to tell you but I guess I’m not that nice after all — [Reader] said, shoving the screen in front of his face.

— What am I looking at? — He asked, staring at the picture full of Magicam-filtered cookies.

— Not here. There — she pointed to another photo, scrolling through the comments.

She watched slowly as understanding spread across his face. She could easily track it by the reddening of his cheeks. He finally understood the looks he had been getting in the hallways all week.

— Umm... I’ll tell Cater to take this down as soon as possible...

— No! If we take it down, everyone will think there’s really something going on and the rumors will get even worse.

— If you say so — he sighed quietly.

He didn’t know what this feeling was, but something began gnawing at him from the inside. In his mind, the idea of them being together had been just a funny invention of Trey’s. But now, the whole school was doing the same? Why did it bother him so much? After all, there wasn’t a grain of truth in it.

— Time for the famous tarts today? — [Reader] picked up the first book she could reach, sinking deeper into the plush armchair.

— You don’t look too happy — Riddle noted, glancing at her sideways.

— More studying means more boredom — she replied, covering her face with the book.

— Funny you’d say that, considering your grades.

— Just because I study doesn’t mean I like it. My parents are really strict about my grades. That’s one of the reasons they transferred me to NRC — she sighed.

For a moment, they sat in silence, only broken by the rustling of pages. Riddle began to think maybe they weren’t so different after all, despite what he had initially thought.

— I know what it’s like. My mom was also adamant about good grades. Then I overbloat and things changed a bit...

— You had an overbloat?! — [Reader] nearly jumped out of her chair.

— It’s a long story. The point is, in the end, studying isn’t everything. — Riddle looked her straight in the face.

— I can't believe you're the one saying it — she chuckled quietly.

— You know what? Take the book and come with me. — He extended his hand, which she hesitantly took.

He led her down the hallways filled with red, black and white. At the end awaited the cozy kitchen of Heartslabyul.

— We should bake the tart before we start describing its meaning according to the Queen of Hearts. Learning can also be fun. — Riddle began flipping through the pages until he found the right recipe.

— How many times have you baked this? — she asked, peering over his shoulder.

— More than once — he replied.

By "more than once," he meant "twice." And only the second tart had been remotely edible but no one needed to know that.

Thus began the great pot adventure. Flour, eggs and piles of sugar were put to use. Riddle carefully measured the ingredients. Only for a moment later to see [Reader] adding another spoonful of sparkling crystals.

— It needs to be sweeter — she declared, sticking her finger into the forming foam.

— That’s unhygienic! — Riddle screamed in horror, trying to cut through the sounds of the whisk.

Reading the next step of the recipe, he already knew what would happen.

— Give that to me! — He reached for the bag of flour, which she swiped from under his nose.

— We’ll do it by eye and it’ll be fine! Otherwise, we’ll be here all afternoon, and I’m hungry!

— No way... — The flour hit his face, which shut him up immediately.

[Reader] burst out laughing. She couldn’t stop herself, looking at his white-coated red hair and eyelashes. Riddle looked like the unpainted roses from the Heartslabyul garden. The comparison made her laugh even harder. She grabbed her stomach, wiping a tear from her eye.

Riddle looked at his reflection in the kitchen cabinet.

— Oh, you... — He swung his portion of flour.

Now [Reader] joined the ranks of ghosts, covering herself in white. They were both forced to sweep the floor. Although they couldn’t agree on who should do it, so they eventually divided the room in half.

The final step was preparing the strawberries. Water and knives were used. Riddle complained that she was eating every other one instead of putting it in the tart. In the end, however, all the fruit rested beneath the pastry blanket, which glowed with a golden hue in the oven.

[Reader] was absolutely convinced that the residents of Heartslabyul had some kind of fifth sense. How else could you explain the fact that, moments after the tart came out of the oven, a crowd appeared in the kitchen?

— Riddle?

— Hmmm? — Riddle lifted his head from his small plate.

— Thanks.

He answered with a smile.

Vorpal impatiently and stubbornly searched for the carrot in Riddle’s hand. However, he didn’t find anything there. He gave a loud snort. He was saddled, ready to go, while his guardian was still waiting.

— I thought you’d fallen asleep in the haystack — Rosehearts commented as a greeting.

— Silver had to help me a little but it’s fine now. — She pulled the reins of the horse.

— Did you read all the rules and safety instructions… — He didn’t get to finish.

— Yes, yes. Can we go now? — [Reader] asked, jumping into the saddle.

At NRC, horseback riding was an activity for those who wanted it. Students signed up for the club and only they had access to recreational rides and the stables. At RSA, it was a much more popular activity. [Reader] sometimes wondered if it wasn’t because so many people at her old school resembled what she called “pretty princes.” The activity fit this concept quite well.

After a long day full of studying, she was already fed up with staring at letters. Reading felt like torture, so when Riddle asked her to study the rules, she just waved her hand. Silver wasn’t hovering over her as a Heartslabyul prefect would, so they waved goodbye to the thick stack of papers in the binder and the boy showed her around the stables. However, during the tour, he became incredibly sleepy, which made the whole process much longer. She had the impression he could nap while standing.

The ride itself really pleased her. It was connected to the Queen of Hearts in a very roundabout way. Though the ruler herself didn’t ride, her soldiers did. At a certain point in history, they were forced to escape from her and this was the method they chose. Besides, it was a perfect excuse not to have to finish another essay chapter too quickly, which sounded fantastic in itself. Not to mention that Coach Vargas promised to add an extra grade for her participation…

— Do you want to race? — Riddle pulled her from her thoughts as he rode next to her.

— First to that pine tree wins! — She urged her horse on without waiting for a response.

The trees blurred as they sped by. The world became endlessly green. She could hear the wind rushing in her ears. She had the impression that Rosehearts was shouting something but it was hard to make out the words. She sped up even more. She didn’t want to lose.

— Slow down! — Riddle’s voice came through indistinctly.

— No wa...

Only then did she realize what was going on.

Beyond the pine, there was a cliff. The tree had been a strange exception that tricked her. The path abruptly ended, revealing a drop of several meters, with a forest beyond.

[Reader]’s heart raced. She shifted her weight to the back of the saddle and squeezed with her calves. She pulled on the reins. The horse slowed but not enough. Cold sweat broke out on her. She had the impression that her mind switched off for a few seconds. She looked in horror at the approaching slope, until the landscape seemed to change in a kaleidoscope. It was Riddle who caught up to her in time and cast a spell. He twisted the reins. When she finally stopped, she felt tears welling up in her eyes.

— What were you thinking?! — the boy shouted. — The rules clearly said…— He suddenly understood what had happened. — You didn’t read them, did you?!

Vorpal nervously tapped his hoof, kicking up clouds of dust.

— I was tired and thought that…

— This isn’t something to think about! It’s for your safety! — His face turned a dark red.

[Reader] tried to dismount but her legs were shaking like jelly at a unbirthday party. They refused to cooperate the moment they touched the ground. She didn’t fall, though. Rosehearts caught her at the waist with surprising gentleness, a contrast to the booming voice he used to lecture her.

— Are you alright? — he asked quietly, inspecting her from head to toe.

— I think so — the girl replied, still shaken.

Without thinking, she threw her arms around his neck. He responded with a firm, confident embrace.

— I’d never forgive myself if you…— His unfinished thought hung in the air.

Riddle hugged her tighter. Strands of hair tickled his nose but he didn’t want to spoil the moment. The familiar scent wrapped around him, assuring him that everything was fine.

— I’m sorry — he heard her voice breaking right by his ear.

— It’s alright — he replied, stroking her head. — But you’ll still get punished — he added after a moment. — And I’ll make sure you read all of the rules...

— What’s going on between you and the Goldfishie? — Floyd’s figure appeared as if out of nowhere. He appeared between the library shelves before [Reader] could even blink.

— What? — The girl lifted her head from the books.

— You are enemies, lovers or whaaat? — he drawled. — It’s funny watching his reactions, so I wanted to check with the source if I’ve got a new reason to annoy him a bit.

There was something strange in the twin’s gaze. He looked like an eel, restlessly circling around his prey. His yellow eyes seemed to shine dangerously in the dim light, reflecting the faint glow of the magical lights.

— There are only rumors on Magicam. We’re doing a project together. We’re not a couple, if that’s what you’re asking. — [Reader] struggled to focus on reading the task content.

— Oh, really? Maybe it’s worth checking — Leech commented.

Floyd leaned right next to her chair, then tilted his head dangerously close. His face was moving at an alarming speed toward hers. She knew he wouldn’t harm her but it still annoyed her.

— Get away from me. — She pushed him to a safe distance.

— Meeeh. You’re no fun — he grinned. — But thanks for the confirmation!

She wanted to say something but the sight of Riddle’s murderous glare, who had just entered the library, made her change her mind. Whatever Floyd had told him as he was leaving must have really pissed him off.

— Is everything alright? — he asked, sitting down at the table.

— Yeah. It’s just Floyd being Floyd — she dismissed it weakly.

There was a moment of silence, broken only by the rustling of papers.

— Hard to believe we’re handing in the essay tomorrow, huh? Feels like the whole semester just flew by — [Reader] commented, seeing the boy putting the last dot.

The final, corrected version lay in front of them. A stack of papers summarizing the last few months. She felt like the pages couldn’t hold everything that had happened, so she could finally finish the project.

— True — Riddle agreed with a distant voice.

Red hair fell over his forehead. Instinctively, she brushed the stray strands away.

— It’s about something Floyd said, right? — [Reader] asked. — I’ll strangle him — she added.

The look on Rosehearts’ face told her she had hit the nail on the head. Especially since he didn’t comment on the fact that she had just threatened someone, which normally would have earned her a reprimand.

— Tomorrow, we won’t have any reason to meet anymore — he finally started uncertainly.

— That’s what you’re worried about? — She opened her eyes wide in surprise. — Of course, we’ll still meet. Who else would I compete with like I do with you? You’re like my… arch-nemesis! My most-hated school foe. I wouldn’t leave you — she laughed.

But Riddle didn’t respond with a smile. Quite the opposite. He became even more serious than usual, and she thought that was impossible.

— That’s exactly it! — He stood up abruptly. The scraping of his chair echoed through the library. — I don’t want you to hate me. I want you to… — He took a deep breath, seeing that [Reader] also stood up.

They were now face to face. Steel-gray eyes looked at her with hope. Their quick breaths mixed in the still silence. Riddle shifted his gaze to her lips. He felt his face flush. This time, however, the blush wasn’t caused by anger. It came from the unbearable feeling of his heart pounding in his chest.

— You want to what? — [Reader] whispered to encourage him.

— I want you to love me — he finished quietly.

He felt the taste of familiar lips and knew that [Reader] was smiling. Her hands tangled in his hair. Riddle felt like his heart was about to jump out of his chest. He only pulled away to take a breath. He realized he was also smiling involuntarily.

— Check this out! — Ace waved a tray enthusiastically.

— What exactly am I looking at? — Deuce squinted.

— Lemonade — his friend sang with a mischievous grin.

— Please tell me there’s no honey in it...

Deuce only needed one good look to understand that yes, the drink definitely had honey in it. The sweet trap stared at him with its treacherously golden color. And it looked so good! The boy glanced at the clock in the common room. It was already well past 8 PM. That didn’t bode well.

However, an even greater horror struck him when he saw the burgers on the plate. A bunch of tiny buns stuffed to the brim with toppings. It was Tuesday! That already broke two of the Queen of Hearts’ rules.

— Hide that, or you’ll soon be saying goodbye to your head! — he whispered, looking around nervously.

— And you with me, Deucy. — Trappola shoved a burger straight into his mouth.

— You can’t… — he chewed and swallowed — …do that.

— Relax. Look over there. — He pointed Deuce’s head toward the window.

Deuce couldn’t believe his eyes. Their prefect was walking with [Reader] through the garden. And at a time when he usually spent studying in the common room. They were laughing about something, talking in hushed voices. And were they holding hands?

— Since they got together, Riddle’s toned down a bit. And that means tomorrow night I’m going to take a risk and drink coffee — he added.

— What do you mean they are together? Hey, Ace! Answer me!

[linkemon]

Beauty and the Beast (Bakugō Katsuki x Reader) 9

ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏ ᴋᴀᴛꜱᴜᴋɪ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴄᴜʀꜱᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ʙᴇᴀꜱᴛ. ʟᴏᴄᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄᴀʟ ᴏʙᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ʜɪꜱ ꜱᴜʙᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ, ʜᴇ ꜱʟᴏᴡʟʏ ʟᴏꜱᴇꜱ ʜᴏᴘᴇ. ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ, [ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ], ꜰᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ʜᴇʀ ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ'ꜱ ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛɪᴍɪᴅᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴏᴠᴇʀʜᴀᴜʟ ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴇꜱ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ. ɪɴɪᴛɪᴀʟ ʀᴇʟᴜᴄᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ, ʙᴏʀɴꜱ ᴀ ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱʜɪᴘ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴀᴅᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ, ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɢʀᴏᴡꜱ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ.

The whole series can be found here. Part 1 is here. Part 10 coming soon.

When you go out

[Reader] stood before the enormous gates leading to the palace, pacing back and forth along the same path in restless impatience. The enchanted objects weren’t even sure anymore if it was worth waiting. She had insisted on staying just a little longer, hoping Katsuki would show up, though she no longer had much faith in that. That’s why she was genuinely surprised to see him standing before her. He held a woven wicker basket that, despite its age, somehow held together. Unsure of what to say, she started down the forest path.

— Do you like picnics? — she broke the silence.

— No — said the king.

Then what are you doing here? — she wanted to ask.

— His Majesty meant to say he didn’t like palace picnics — Kirishima corrected him, clattering with his wooden legs.

The enchanted objects darted in and out of the thickets, appearing sometimes ahead of them, sometimes behind. The girl kept her eyes on the ground, afraid of accidentally stepping on one of them. The Beast, however, didn’t seem particularly concerned.

Bakugō let out a heavy sigh. Kirishima’s intervention had forced him to elaborate, which he wasn’t happy about.

— The picnics my parents organized were... over the top. Tons of food, decorations and a whole lot of boring, pompous people I didn’t even know. I had to wander around, talk to them and try to win their favour just because I was the future king.

It was just another kind of party that restricted his freedom. Occasionally, someone would set up some archery targets as entertainment, giving him a chance to sneak away from the noble circles for a little while — but not for long. Usually, sooner or later, he’d be cornered by an advisor or a foreign noble with a proposal to marry him off to their daughter. He hated listening to them.

— Our picnic will be completely different. I only brought a blanket and some wine. And besides, you’re stuck with me instead of a crowd of boring people — [Reader] laughed. — What’s in the basket?

— I made sandwiches. — He shrugged.

He’d wanted to do something more, something to show her he could. But he hadn’t even been sure whether he should come on this strange outing and by the time he’d decided, there wasn’t any time left. So, he’d sliced up a big loaf of bread and made the first thing that came to mind. The enchanted objects assured him the distance wasn’t as great as it seemed but he felt as though something was pulling him back with every step. Ignoring the dull ache, he focused on the road ahead.

— Your mother was a very good queen.

The sentence immediately pulled his attention away from his discomfort. It had been so long since anyone had mentioned her. He often called her an Old Hag but he knew she was much better at being a ruler than he was. She annoyed him because she burdened him with responsibilities he hated. But that didn’t mean he didn’t recognize how hard she worked. He’d seen her fall asleep over ledgers or maps. Sometimes, when he snuck out of the palace late at night, he’d see his father approach her, drape a blanket over her shoulders and finish her speeches or edicts himself. Now, all that remained of her was a dusty chamber.

— After those picnics, there was always leftover food. She gave it to the needy. I even got some once. Back in spring, when my village was running low on food, I hadn’t eaten for days. She came and personally handed me a sandwich. At the time, I didn’t even know who she was. If not for her, I might not be here now.

— My mother... was... — The lump in his throat grew, making it hard to speak. — She was different from me. She was suited for all of this.

That’s how he felt. She knew exactly what to do, how to speak and everyone adored her. He was never like that. He played a role he’d been forced into. He didn’t fit in at court. He didn’t know how to care for people like she did. He couldn’t care less about his subjects. They seemed like an indistinct mass far away. Charitable outings were met with grumbles of displeasure and he usually skipped them, leaving them to others. But now, having met [Reader] and realizing she might owe her life to such a gesture, it stopped being an abstract concept. It became tangible proof that such actions truly affected people’s lives.

— Overhaul seems to have plenty of money — he deduced from the man’s clothing and demeanor. — And yet, you starved?

— He didn’t. I did. I wasn’t always a lady — she accented the word with a small smile. — I grew up on the streets. From time to time, people let me stay with them in exchange for work. Then, one day, he came and offered me a permanent roof over my head, meals and new clothes if I was willing to learn.

As a child, she’d been enchanted by the life spread out before her. The orphanage was just a cover. The new life was full of opportunities to access things she’d only ever dreamed of — beautiful gowns, rooms filled with food, and countless new skills. Over time, however, she realized she could dress as she pleased but only if it aligned with current trends or Overhaul’s preferences. She could eat only dainty bites, at designated times and with perfect etiquette. Her education had to align with what Overhaul needed, so she could forget about learning swordsmanship.

In exchange, she had to smile and dazzle. Sometimes, she attended parties to steal documents from a rich man’s safe. Other times, she eavesdropped on gossip or confidential conversations. Occasionally, she delivered written threats to various places. It was a small price to pay for the basics of life.

— It was enough for me until Eri came into the picture at the residence.

— Your younger sister? — The fact that Katsuki even knew who she was genuinely surprised [Reader]. She rarely talked about her, certainly not to him. He must’ve been paying very close attention, unless one of the enchanted objects had explicitly told him. But she had a feeling they’d kept that detail to themselves.

— Yes. We don’t share the same mother but we still call ourselves sisters. She’s the one who told me I should demand more, speak up for what I want and that I deserved better. It was all so beautiful... but also naïve. I believed her. When I told Overhaul I didn’t want to continue etiquette lessons, he slapped me. After that, every cup of tea I drank was as if someone were watching me.

The memory reminded Bakugō of an incident in the kitchen long ago. A weight settled in his chest and he was almost certain it wasn’t because of the blue rose.

— Then I refused to marry Shigaraki, so he decided to starve me instead. The servants kept a close eye on me. I managed to get by for a while but eventually, he realized what he should’ve done from the start.

— He threatened your sister — the king finished for her.

— He said that if I don’t yield, he’ll start conducting experiments. The ones so far haven’t been that bad but his future plans are awful. I’m not sure exactly why he needs the rose but somehow it can replace what concerns Eri.

The Eight Precepts of Death sought power and dominance. The group saw an opportunity in forming an alliance with the League of Villains through marriage. For years, neither had been able to seize power on their own. Both managed to orchestrate a few conspiracies but they were usually quickly suppressed. Now, however, in a kingdom without a king and a council of nobles easily bribed, they saw a chance.

— We’re here — announced Gentle.

— Indeed — echoed La Brava.

The view was truly beautiful. A gentle breeze created ripples on the surface of the lake. The trees were covered in fresh green leaves. The group settled on a sandy patch of the shore. [Reader] took the second blanket from Katsuki's basket and tied it between two trees. The magical friends were delighted with the hammock and took turns swinging in it.

— I bet if I skip a stone, mine will bounce more times! — The girl knew nothing motivated Bakugō more than competition.

They raced to gather stones, combing the shoreline but staying out of the water. It was freezing cold. Just approaching its edge was enough to feel the chill, even though the sun shone brightly overhead.

They threw stones of all shapes and colours. Their enchanted belongings cheered them on. Denki, of course, shouted the loudest when [Reader] managed to set a new record. She decided she could even forgive him for spilling the beans in the library, convinced every bird around the castle had already flown away from his noise. Kirishima claimed that whoever won the little contest didn’t matter because everyone was having fun. That didn’t stop the girl from teasing the king about her victory.

— And that’s why I’m taking the first sandwich! — she declared, lunging toward the basket.

— Not a chance! — Bakugō raised the basket high, out of her reach. He immediately took out a sandwich and ate it whole, a smug grin spreading across his face.

— Did you see that? — she turned to their lounging friends. — That’s unfair! — she groaned.

— We’d love to help you — began Gentle, blowing steam from his spout.

— We really would — added La Brava, splashing tea left and right — but we’re busy.

The girl sat on the blanket with her arms crossed. She turned her head away but out of the corner of her eye, she saw a large brown paw offering her food. She didn’t respond, simply accepting the sandwich. In exchange, she slid over a bottle of wine, hoping the odd truce proposal would be understood. It was. They sat in silence for a while, watching their rowdy friends swinging nearby.

— Is this from the library? — Katsuki lifted a book of fairy tales.

She nodded.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d picked up anything to read. He preferred learning from real-life examples. His mother had insisted he read many books to prepare him for his future reign. He remembered little from them now but he could recite most battle strategies and combat tips by heart.

His nights had never been great. He often had trouble sleeping. Lately, it had been worse. So, when he stumbled upon his mother’s favourite books while cleaning the library, he took them with him. The queen had a habit of jotting down her thoughts in the margins. He recalled how much the royal librarian used to scold her for it. Back then, he didn’t understand why she wasted time writing words on paper. Now, reading her notes in the moonlight, he felt as though he were having a conversation with her. It gave him strange, mixed feelings.

— I don’t like reading but Eri loves happy endings. That’s why I’ll read them all to tell her about when I return.

— What’s your sister like? — It genuinely piqued his curiosity since learning of her existence. From what he’d heard, she was little. And he wasn’t fond of kids. Most "brats", as he called them, usually got in his way or chased him around the palace, asking him to teach them something.

— Eri’s too good for this world. Cheerful and warm, like sunshine. I think you’d like her and she’d like you.

Somehow, he found that hard to believe but [Reader] seemed utterly convinced.

— Kids don’t like monsters. No one ever liked me back then and I doubt that’s changed.

It was true. In the past, those who associated with him at court were usually there for some benefit. Kirishima was a rare exception but Katsuki had recently wondered if, after the way he secured him his dream position, Kirishima still considered him the same friend.

He wanted to take back his words. They sounded sentimental, overly emotional and foolish — like he cared. But he wasn’t like that. He didn’t need others’ approval to be happy. Before he could add anything, [Reader] interrupted.

— Well... Most people don’t like pompous jerks. Who you are... — That sentence made a sharp retort dance on the tip of his tongue. — But Eri would like you anyway. Besides, you still have your subjects... and me... because I like you — she finished softly.

— As if I care — Katsuki shrugged.

His mind was in turmoil. He didn’t know what to cling to anymore. His heart beat faster and he couldn’t pretend it was because of the rose’s distance. The dull pain eased for a moment. It was such a strange feeling that it left him silent. When was the last time someone openly admitted they liked him? His gruff, unrefined self with the sharp tongue? And in this wretched form he hated to see in the mirror?

A loud splash broke his thoughts, followed by desperate cries from where his enchanted friends had been swinging. Something white flashed quickly and disappeared into the lake.

— It’s Ochaco! — Denki shouted. — She’s going to die! — he wailed.

— We’re all going to die! — added the teacup.

— Tea to calm everyone down? — the teapot asked calmly.

— Nobody’s dying! Calm down — the Guard Captain searched for anything that could help the drowning maid.

He looked for sticks but quickly realized that without hands, even with a branch, he was useless.

Without much thought, [Reader] ran into the freezing water. She took a deep breath and dove. The water was murky and muddy. The bottom felt like sludge. She couldn’t see anything but tried to feel around for something resembling her friend. Before she could search much, something yanked her upward. She blinked rapidly, rubbing her eyes. Bakugō’s paw held her above the water. In his other paw was a soaked, muddy Ochaco.

The three made it to shore, where they were immediately swarmed by their panicking friends. Everyone hugged the featherduster, apologizing profusely and promising never to swing the hammock so hard again.

— But could she really have died? — Kaminari had a sudden realization.

Everyone paused to process his words. They quickly concluded that objects don’t breathe. The worst that could have happened was her spending the rest of the day at the lake’s bottom among cattails and stones. Now [Reader] felt a little foolish. She’d jumped to the rescue when it wasn’t really necessary. She didn’t regret it, though. Even if she was soaking wet and the cold was starting to creep in.

— Thank you, [Reader] — Ochaco tried to wipe the mud from her light feathers. — And you, Your Highness — she added.

Katsuki felt strange. They’d barely spoken before. He knew why. Until recently, it hadn’t bothered him. But every time something reminded him of Midoriya, unease crept back. The thought that he might be responsible for his death haunted him. And this maid was the most vivid reminder of it all. She annoyed him. He realized why. He owed his survival to her, which hurt even more. If she hadn’t intervened with the old matron of her fiancé, would he still be standing here?

— I think we’ve had enough excitement for today — Kirishima announced.

The group agreed and began packing up. They didn’t have much. [Reader] wrapped herself in a blanket and handed the other to her strangely quiet companion.

— I’m not cold — Katsuki said, throwing his blanket over her head.

When she freed herself from it, she saw that all their enchanted friends had settled into the basket. A free ride must have seemed like a good idea. Of course, not without the king’s complaints. After all, they had legs of their own. But when it turned out they’d all fallen asleep, he stopped grumbling, realizing it was pointless.

— What would you say if you could leave this place? — Bakugō’s voice faded among the forest trees.

— If this is a rhetorical question to see if I’d run, I’m not falling for it — [Reader] laughed.

— If you want to leave... to see your sister or something... I won’t stop you. You don’t have to worry about my deal with Overhaul. I’ll keep my word.

Saying it made him wonder what he was even doing with his life. He still had a chance to break the curse and return to being human. The odds of someone like her showing up during the time he had left were practically zero.

And yet now, knowing so much, it was hard not to let her go free. He’d done to her what everyone had done to him years ago. They wanted to crown him, despite him not wanting it. And she was part of a transaction with even less say than he’d had. Besides, someone was waiting for her. His family had long since passed. If he could talk to that Old Hag again or see her one last time...

— I’ll think about it but for now, I don’t plan to leave. I miss Eri but as long as I’m here, she’s safe. Even if you kept your word, I don’t think Overhaul would believe it. The moment I show up at the estate, he’ll know. And then he’ll either resume his experiments or marry me off — or both. Do you really have to get rid of me? — she asked with a small smile.

They stopped before the palace doors.

— Looks like I’m stuck with you — Katsuki sighed dramatically.

With that, he disappeared down one of the long hallways.

— You really like her, don’t you, Your Highness? — Ochaco murmured sleepily. — I think there’s still hope for all of us...

He didn’t reply. He put the basket down and headed to his bedroom. That night, he wasn’t haunted by nightmares of blood-stained visions or blue rose petals. For the first time in a long while, he dreamed of something else. The kingdom from years ago. The throne room. And finally, hazy silhouettes resembling his parents. It was a good dream.

[linkemon]

Beauty and the Beast (Bakugō Katsuki x Reader) 8

ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏ ᴋᴀᴛꜱᴜᴋɪ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴄᴜʀꜱᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ʙᴇᴀꜱᴛ. ʟᴏᴄᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄᴀʟ ᴏʙᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ʜɪꜱ ꜱᴜʙᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ, ʜᴇ ꜱʟᴏᴡʟʏ ʟᴏꜱᴇꜱ ʜᴏᴘᴇ. ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ, [ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ], ꜰᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ʜᴇʀ ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ'ꜱ ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛɪᴍɪᴅᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴏᴠᴇʀʜᴀᴜʟ ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴇꜱ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ. ɪɴɪᴛɪᴀʟ ʀᴇʟᴜᴄᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ, ʙᴏʀɴꜱ ᴀ ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱʜɪᴘ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴀᴅᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ, ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɢʀᴏᴡꜱ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ.

The whole series can be found here. Part 1 is here. Part 9.

When you invite him somewhere

— I don’t know if it’s a good idea. — [Reader] placed another book back on the shelf.

The enchanted friends had been particularly helpful today. Since morning, they hadn’t managed to break anything and she had to admit she was impressed. Such days were exceedingly rare — mostly when, for some reason, they couldn’t 'help' her with her work.

The massive cabinets stretched in rows across the enormous library. Many of the books had been eaten away by moths, making them good for nothing except firewood to warm the palace. Fortunately, she hardly needed to light the fireplace anymore. The bright, warm sun and spring in full bloom took care of that.

— It’s a great idea. — Kirishima nudged another volume of the endless series closer to his hand.

That was what everyone always said before a brilliant plan turned into a disaster. She recalled how, not long ago, the enchanted objects insisted on taking care of her horse. La Brava and Gentle had barely escaped its hooves. The porcelain had shaken all evening while preparing tea for her.

Although this situation was different, she felt an odd kind of anxiety at the thought of refusing.

— He’ll probably say I’m bothering him for no reason. — [Reader] tried to mimic Bakugō’s perpetually grumpy expression.

The picnic was an idea that wouldn’t leave her head ever since she had started cleaning the library. She could read. Overhaul had taught her but she didn’t particularly enjoy the activity. Perhaps that was why sorting through all those old books bored her so much. She sighed repeatedly, glancing out from behind the freshly cleaned, enormous windows at the lake. Ochaco had mentioned how nice it would be to take a little trip there. At first, she wasn’t sure how far she could actually venture but the palace inhabitants assured her it was close enough.

— But do you want him to come? — the Captain of the Guard pressed.

— I do — she admitted, climbing up the ladder.

She wasn’t entirely sure why. In winter, she had been mad at him, focusing her energy on properly doing her work — doing the bare minimum so he couldn’t find anything to criticize. Then came the simple greetings, brief, broken conversations and shared meals. Learning sword fighting had become a kind of turning point — the moment when he stopped being a terrifying monster to her and she saw a human instead. Over time, she realized that there was something enjoyable about teasing him, their odd rivalry and the sharp remarks they exchanged. It was a refreshing change from the estate, where everyone meekly nodded to everything, obediently following Overhaul. Besides, the work brought her genuine satisfaction. She could see the results everywhere — in the clean corridors, chambers, and gardens. On top of that, she was free. At least from dazzling in the salons and from Shigaraki. She still worried about Eri but Overhaul must have told her something to let her know her sister was safe and would return soon. Even if it was a perfectly fabricated lie. Perhaps he had concocted a grand tale about an overseas journey lasting a year? She hoped the little one was holding on somehow. Maybe thanks to the promise of that strange blue rose, she could finally find some peace. The research wasn’t awful but it wasn’t pleasant either. For now, it had been paused. She didn’t know exactly what it was leading to and that was what worried her most.

She dusted off her dress. She needed a break. Carelessly, she sat on one of the piles of unsorted books. Most of the covers were in dull, dark colours. Many titles were about economics, war tactics, heraldry and etiquette. Her attention was drawn to a colourful dust jacket. She pulled it out and smiled to herself upon seeing it was a book of fairy tales. She flipped through the pages, admiring the illustrations. Eri would love them. She planned to go through them thoroughly later and memorize the stories. She would tell them all to her sister when she returned.

— True love’s kiss, can you believe it? — She waved the book toward her friends. — Almost all the stories are the same. No creativity whatsoever.

The crooked twist on La Brava’s lips told her they must all be fairy tale enthusiasts. Every single one of them. How else could she explain the way they all blushed on cue?

A small group gathered in a circle, starting a hushed discussion. Sometimes, she felt excluded because of it. They loved doing this. She had stopped trying to join such conversations long ago since they always changed the subject. Whatever they were hiding, she would have to find out on her own.

She still hadn’t fully unraveled their curse. She only knew bits and pieces from street tales and legends repeated in town squares. According to them, they had been cursed along with their king a long time ago. Since then, Musutafu had been without a ruler and the rich noblemen who had once been advisors to the throne had taken over. From one of her conversations with the enchanted friends, she inferred that there might be a way to turn the former subjects back into humans. But as soon as she started asking questions, they would immediately change the subject.

She returned to work. There were still many shelves to go.

— You definitely should invite him — Kirishima declared at one point, nervously spinning his hands like clock hands.

— There you go again — sighed [Reader].

— Are you inviting someone to help with cleaning? — A mocking tone came from the other end of the hall.

She didn’t need to turn around to know who was speaking. That low voice could only belong to Bakugō.

— As a matter of fact, no but I’d gladly invite you to move those shelves.

Only he had enough strength to set them back up. She had tried several times. Unsuccessfully. The beast, however, was strong. To her surprise, he got to work. It was a pleasant change. Usually, in such situations, she had to wait a few days before he bothered to show up and get it done — never without his usual declaration that he was doing it only because it was his palace, not because she had asked.

— The lady’s too weak — he muttered while working.

She didn’t respond. She was used to it by now. A day without a remark would be a wasted day.

— [Reader] wants to invite you to a picnic! — Denki emerged from behind a pile of books.

She really liked Kaminari. A lot. But now, she wanted to extinguish every proudly lit candle on his head. The fact that he was a fool made a lot of sense, especially in situations like this. Apparently, he had started on the streets, coming from a poor family. Initially, he performed street shows. Later, he formed a small traveling troupe. When a spot opened up at one of the tournaments, he seized the opportunity. He showcased tricks with something he called electricity. Queen Mitsuki liked it so much she invited him to stay at court. She wanted him to keep experimenting, believing it might lead to surprising discoveries in the future. Denki wasn’t particularly interested in the scientific side, using all the resources to create performances instead. The queen respected that. Her son, however, had a completely different sense of humor and the subjects believed that was the main reason he didn’t get along with Kaminari.

— A picnic? — Katsuki raised an eyebrow.

— If you don’t want to come, you don’t have to — she said, walking a bit farther away.

Why did she care so much about him coming? Was she really that tired of the enchanted objects’ company? Deep down, she knew that wasn’t the truth. She genuinely wanted him to come. She wanted to spend some time together outside of training sessions. It was rare to get him to stay outside of them and meals.

— I’ll see if I can make it — Bakugō said, leaving the library.

— As if he had anything else to do. — [Reader] rolled her eyes. — Another round of boring encyclopedias, bring them on! — she called to the enchanted objects.

— You’ll see, he’ll come. — The clock struck a particularly loud chime as if to emphasize his words.

Katsuki disappeared down the corridor, clutching the place where his heart should be. It was beating faster than usual. He convinced himself it was because he hadn’t spent much time near the rose lately and headed to the greenhouse. That had to be the reason. There was no way he was excited about a mere picnic invitation. Certainly not…

[linkemon]

Beauty and the Beast (Bakugō Katsuki x Reader) 7

ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏ ᴋᴀᴛꜱᴜᴋɪ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴄᴜʀꜱᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ʙᴇᴀꜱᴛ. ʟᴏᴄᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄᴀʟ ᴏʙᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ʜɪꜱ ꜱᴜʙᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ, ʜᴇ ꜱʟᴏᴡʟʏ ʟᴏꜱᴇꜱ ʜᴏᴘᴇ. ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ, [ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ], ꜰᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ʜᴇʀ ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ'ꜱ ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛɪᴍɪᴅᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴏᴠᴇʀʜᴀᴜʟ ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴇꜱ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ. ɪɴɪᴛɪᴀʟ ʀᴇʟᴜᴄᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ, ʙᴏʀɴꜱ ᴀ ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱʜɪᴘ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴀᴅᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ, ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɢʀᴏᴡꜱ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ.

The whole series can be found here. Part 1 is here. Part 8 coming soon.

When he teaches you something

[Reader] added the last branches to the enormous pile. She stretched her back with delight, admiring the massive stack of firewood, certain it would last for years, if not longer. She’d happily carry an extra bundle to her fireplace tonight.

The garden around the castle had taken her quite some time. She hadn’t managed to tidy everything but at least the immediate surroundings looked neat. Winter’s thaw had uncovered old leaves, branches and other debris that had clearly been accumulating for years. She took a deep breath. It definitely smelled like spring. It was still cold enough to warrant wearing a coat but she was sure she could ditch it within a week.

It wasn’t the one Eri had made for her. After Denki’s unfortunate attempt to set it on fire, she had asked Ochaco if she had a spare. She didn’t want to risk damaging such a precious keepsake while working. The maid had shaken her head but the next day, she somehow found one piece that hadn’t been devoured by moths. It was a men’s coat but that didn’t bother her. It was plain, yellow and warm.

She didn’t know it had belonged to Katsuki. When the feather duster brought it to his chambers, she hadn’t expected her lord standing with his back to her.

— I won’t be needing it anymore — was all he said. — Don't say a word to anyone.

So, while Ochaco dearly wished she could tell [Reader] who had kept her warm these past weeks, she didn’t say a word. No one had forbidden her from smiling a little to herself, though, when she helped sweep the palace floors. After all, it was a step forward in the relationship between the two young people — one all the enchanted objects eagerly anticipated.

The maid watched the interactions between [Reader] and the king with keen interest. Most of the gossip came from Kaminari. The candlestick didn’t have much to do and he adored the girl. Unlike Gentle and La Brava, he hadn’t abandoned her even when she, against all reason, tried to greet Bakugō again. Curiously, Denki reported that their lord had responded. He had even started cooking for her.

Since she was banned from the kitchen, he prepared double portions of meals. He didn’t deliver them personally but every day, one of the servants brought them to the dining room.

The last remnants of winter storms faded. Along with them ended the period when [Reader] occupied herself with simple tasks. The most frequented rooms and corridors were cleared of cobwebs and dust. At last, one could walk through them without constantly sneezing. Heavy curtains had been taken down and now waited in one of the rooms for summer so they could be washed without fear of catching a cold. Fireplaces had been cleared of excess ash.

After all that, the girl turned to the garden. The fresh air was a welcome change, especially since the enchanted objects couldn’t help her much (nor hinder her), so even if they kept her company, the lion’s share of the work was entirely hers.

She fell asleep every night exhausted but happy. Of course, she still worried about Eri but for now, she could afford to ignore her loathsome fiancé. Besides, no one scolded her when she put her elbows on the table or wiped her nose on her sleeve for lack of a handkerchief. Most of all, though, she reveled in being able to shout damn out loud — or, on occasion, a quieter fuck. The latter she reserved for special situations, like stubbing her toe on a cabinet.

Some objects scolded her at first but eventually gave up. Not like at home, where such behaviour could mean going without food for an entire day.

When she started cleaning the courtyard, she noticed large doors. To her surprise, they connected to the armory. She had seen it weeks ago while exploring every nook and cranny to determine cleaning priorities.

Now, she once again faced the collection of metal that made her want to give up on everything. Slowly, she dragged out old knightly lances, disintegrating helmet plumes and many other items.

The only enjoyable thing was looking at the less worn armor, shields and swords. Among them, two stood out — one gold, inlaid with rubies and the other silver, with emeralds. They looked like something out of a legend.

She had always wanted to learn sword fighting but no one had ever let her. It wasn’t useful in her career — not in salons, nor in any of the rougher jobs. She was supposed to be beautiful, quiet and clever.

— If you hold it like that, you’ll chop off your foot! — Katsuki’s voice startled her so much she almost jumped.

He was enormous, yet he could sneak up when he wanted. This wasn’t the first time in recent weeks he had appeared suddenly — from around a corner or on the stairs. She had the impression she bumped into him more often than before.

Her initial aversion to him was slowly fading. She didn’t have many companions to choose from and the enchanted objects could be exhausting. At least he brought a certain kind of entertainment, teasing her.

— Then how am I supposed to hold it? — she asked, gripping the silver sword tighter.

— Best to keep it on the shelf, where it belongs — came the king’s low growl.

It didn’t escape her notice how his expression changed as he examined the weapon more closely. His fangs clenched tighter and he prepared to leave.

— I heard from Kirishima that you used to be quite the warrior — the girl remarked.

— Quite the warrior? — He turned around. — I was the best knight in the country. People came from far and wide just to challenge me.

For a moment, he recalled the tournaments he had participated in. There had been so many. He rode on horseback, clad in full armor with a lance by his side. Flags fluttered over the palace towers. Crowds of guests gathered on the stands. His mother always insisted he greet everyone but he had never wanted to study heraldry, which meant he failed to recognize half of them. His father busied himself near the dessert tables, trying to evade his wife. They scolded their son but at the end of the day, they always congratulated him on his victories and recounted them at the long table in the dining hall. Music played, toasts were raised and boisterous cheers echoed.

For young Bakugō, though, the sword in his hand was what mattered most. The tournaments were for show — a chance to prove to the people that he would one day be a strong ruler. Yet, if it had been up to him, he would have tossed his royal status out the window. He loved training. Training in a dirty, sweat-soaked shirt on a dusty courtyard, where the greatest reward was avoiding jeers when an old master like Toshinori smacked him with a wooden sword. Or when he managed to deliver a killing blow to a straw dummy, scattering its contents. Or when spectators clapped as he sparred fiercely with Kirishima.

He hated how much he kept returning to those memories. Sooner or later, they always came back to haunt him.

— Teach me how to fight with a sword. — [Reader]’s voice pulled him from his thoughts of the past.

— So you can get rid of me while I’m sleeping? — He raised a brow.

— I already apologized. — She rolled her eyes. — I’m not planning to murder you. You’re not that annoying, Your Majesty.

— Doesn’t matter because you won’t be able to do it anyway — the king retorted, ready to withdraw from the conversation. He intended to return to the tower.

— At least give me a chance, Your Majesty.

Her determination surprised him. She dared to step closer, grab his furry paw and stop him from walking away. She released it quickly but the gesture left an impression. He couldn’t remember the last time a human willingly initiated contact with him.

— You won’t be able to lift it — Katsuki declared confidently.

— Maybe I lost at cooking but I’m sure I can handle this. — [Reader] grabbed the silver sword again.

Unlike with cooking, she knew her strength. Shigaraki had often made her sneak into parties to steal from distant rooms. Sometimes she had to climb quite a distance to reach the next balcony or cross a roof. There had been no one to help her. She had to know her limits.

— Ten seconds, right hand, overhead! — the king sighed.

She obeyed. By the eighth second, her arm began to tremble but she held the weapon steady.

— Left hand, same thing! — He watched the scene before him in disbelief. — Right hand again!

It wasn’t as if he had never seen female warriors or knights before. He had encountered a few during his career. Rare but not unheard of. What startled him was the fact that this lady, who had sipped tea so delicately during their first meeting, was now performing a series of exercises that had given him trouble the first time he set foot in the armory.

— So, do I qualify? — She leaned against the sword, quietly catching her breath.

— Tomorrow, right after breakfast. Don’t be late. And we’ll use names. Warriors are equals. — With that, he left.

For the next several weeks, Katsuki felt strange. He had never taught anyone before. He was always the student or someone else was teaching him. The role of instructor was an odd challenge, especially at first.

To make matters worse, his subjects decided they had to watch the daily training sessions. Of all the onlookers, only Kirishima offered useful advice, knowing what he was talking about. Gentle whistled and spun exaggerated tales of his youth. La Brava, as usual, nodded in agreement, her behaviour slowly driving the beast mad. Kaminari complained that the king was pushing [Reader] too hard, with Ochaco chiming in on rare occasions — though she seldom attended. Katsuki knew why. Whenever he thought about it in the darkness of his chamber before falling asleep, he concluded that the feather duster had always been overly sentimental.

— Are you all right? — The question felt foreign to him. He couldn’t get used to it. It seemed tied to a weakness he despised.

So he would growl something curt and return to training. The familiar golden sword no longer fit his paw as perfectly as it had his hand but his muscle memory retained every move. Lunge, strike, parry. Repeat.

But things weren’t all right. Eventually, [Reader] had to switch to a different sword. After years, there weren’t many options left, so, though he had avoided it for a long time, he finally handed her the silver weapon. The one that had once belonged to Midoriya. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Ochaco shed a few tears but she said nothing. He kept telling himself it was no big deal, yet one spring afternoon, he felt as if Izuku stood before him again, alive. It was only the girl, similar in build, holding the same weapon in the same stance. A stray ray of sunlight reflected off the blade, blinding him momentarily. He promptly announced that the lesson was over.

Still, there were moments of joy. Small but numerous instances when hope rekindled within him. He finally had someone to share what he loved so dearly. The lady turned out to be far less dainty than he had initially thought. She wiped sweat from her brow with her sleeve. She laughed at his crude jokes, long deemed inappropriate at court. She wasn’t afraid of hard work, tackling tasks like mucking out her horse’s stall with determination.

One day, she even suggested they have breakfast together. Though he mocked the idea at first, he showed up in the dining hall the next morning, claiming he had nothing better to do.

Thus, the lessons continued, with him trying not to get his hopes up. But how could he suppress them, seeing her joyful face in moments like this?

— I can’t believe you praised me! — She beamed at him, leaning on her sword.

— I didn’t praise you — he protested, sharpening a blade.

— You said: 'Nice sequence, [Reader].' Everyone heard it.

— Oh yes, we heard it, loud and clear — Gentle whistled.

The cup nudged her beloved teapot when she noticed their king’s displeased expression.

— Maybe not that loud and clear — La Brava amended, averting her gaze in embarrassment.

— I heard it distinctly. His Majesty so rarely praises her that it was definitely a compliment. — The chandelier flickered dramatically to emphasize his words.

— I think that’s enough for today — the king cut off the discussion, stowing his equipment.

[Reader] left the courtyard, muttering something about finding Ochaco. Bakugō had felt strange ever since the feather duster stopped attending. It seemed she could keep the rowdy group of enchanted servants in line but he had no intention of seeking her out, let alone telling her that.

— It’s been a while since we were alone here, huh, Katsuki? — Kirishima dropped his formal tone.

He was one of the few who dared defy him. It had always been that way. That was one of the main reasons Katsuki had made him Captain of the Guard — a position that had once belonged to Midoriya. His friend rose to the challenge admirably, though Katsuki was unaware of how often Kirishima lost sleep over whom he had replaced and why.

— True. — Katsuki nodded his heavy head.

Back when Kirishima wasn’t a clock, he had been his best sparring partner. Few people could provide him with a challenge but Eijirō filled that void. Though inferior to him, Kirishima never stopped trying, constantly looking for new techniques and surprising him.

— You’re running things well here — Katsuki remarked, quickly retreating toward the greenhouse.

He didn’t want to elaborate. Only recently had he begun to realize how much the enchanted objects did on their own to keep the palace a fraction of what it once was. Until now, he hadn’t cared much. But the more he dwelled on the past, the more he noticed.

The Captain of the Guard hadn’t expected that. The clock hands spun several times. He knew his friend. Compliments didn’t come lightly from him. From Katsuki, they meant a great deal. But after all the time that had passed since the curse was cast, Kirishima felt that the king wasn’t the same as before. He seemed defeated, more irritable. The traits Kirishima had once admired seemed buried under layers of tragedy.

Now, though, the pendulum in his heart swayed restlessly. He sensed change. For the better.

With the clock’s chime, he hurried off to dinner.

[linkemon]

Beauty and the Beast (Bakugō Katsuki x Reader) 6

ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏ ᴋᴀᴛꜱᴜᴋɪ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴄᴜʀꜱᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ʙᴇᴀꜱᴛ. ʟᴏᴄᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄᴀʟ ᴏʙᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ʜɪꜱ ꜱᴜʙᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ, ʜᴇ ꜱʟᴏᴡʟʏ ʟᴏꜱᴇꜱ ʜᴏᴘᴇ. ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ, [ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ], ꜰᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ʜᴇʀ ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ'ꜱ ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛɪᴍɪᴅᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴏᴠᴇʀʜᴀᴜʟ ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴇꜱ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ. ɪɴɪᴛɪᴀʟ ʀᴇʟᴜᴄᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ, ʙᴏʀɴꜱ ᴀ ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱʜɪᴘ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴀᴅᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ, ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɢʀᴏᴡꜱ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ.

The whole series can be found here. Part 1 is here. Part 7.

Cooking together

— What is going on here? — Katsuki thundered unpleasantly.

— We're cleaning — the new servant stated, brushing her hair back from her forehead.

— You stupid woman! You've rearranged everything! — he roared.

The companions wanted to say something but seeing the king in his current state, they fell silent. Better not to stick their necks out. That was precisely why they were helping with the cleaning. They wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible and take the girl away before their master came down to them.

— No problem, your highness. Your servants know where everything is. They'll surely manage to prepare a meal...— She felt a vein pulse on her forehead.

— I am the one who needs to know where everything is! Do you really think they cook for me? — The grimace on Bakugō's beastly face became unmistakable.

It only dawned on her after a moment that the servants indeed wouldn't be able to handle cooking anything. They might manage to put together a sandwich but that was about it. Tasks that were too complicated were beyond their current forms.

— I was just doing my job — [Reader] tried to defend herself. — How was I supposed to know?

— I should have expected this from such a fine lady...— Katsuki sneered.

— I'm not a fine lady! — she exploded with anger.

She was mad, hungry and exhausted. She'd just done a massive amount of work. His remarks were starting to get on her nerves.

— Of course not. — The mockery in the king's voice dripped with sarcasm. — Let me recall how you were sipping tea yesterday. — He pretended to extend the smallest finger from his massive paw, mimicking a dainty sip.

— If it were a matter of life and death, you'd drink like I did too! — she shouted.

For a moment, she thought she saw something resembling understanding in his eyes. Almost as if she had struck a nerve but she wasn’t sure if it wasn’t just her imagination.

— I bet you don't even know what to put in a pot — he continued.

She didn’t understand why he kept going. Did he find it entertaining? Or perhaps he was simply so starved for company that he was willing to settle for any interaction?

— I bet I can cook better than you! — She couldn’t believe what she had just said.

But surely beating him couldn’t be that hard, right? After all, how complicated could his cooking skills be? People of his status didn’t busy themselves in kitchens.

— You’ve got to be joking! — he retorted.

They dropped the titles and formalities.

— Care to bet? If I win, I get to choose a chamber I don’t have to clean — she proposed.

— Deal! If I win, you’re never setting foot in the kitchen again — declared the king.

The speed with which he prepared his dish was almost miraculous. She couldn’t believe her eyes. The desire to compete was written all over him. The cursed servants eagerly handed him the ingredients he needed. Denki was the only one to protest, insisting he would assist the rival instead. She had no idea why he wasn’t as terrified of his master as the others were. He helped her as best he could. She thanked him and he glowed even brighter in response. She decided to make an improvised soup. It was the dish she knew best.

The beggars she once ate with didn’t always get even that. She remembered standing in long lines for watery slop. Back then, it had seemed like the best food in the world. Anything was better than stale bread. Now, she wouldn’t even want to look at it.

She dragged out a large pot and began tossing in ingredients from memory. It wasn’t a complicated recipe. As long as she stirred it and skimmed the scum, it should turn out fine. She glanced sideways.

The beast handled knives skillfully despite his long, sharp claws. He enthusiastically chopped meat into pieces before adding it to a pot along with a mix of spices. He measured out the leaves and dried herbs with precision, occasionally leaning in to sniff his concoction, using his keen sense of smell. He also pulled out a frying pan. The yellow, runny batter looked familiar. To her surprise, it didn’t turn into a pancake. The cakes seemed to puff up. On the plate, they emerged as strange, fluffy, light clouds.

Bakugō spread his ingredients across nearly the entire length of the counter. She wasn’t surprised by the mess in the room. If this was how things always looked, it was a miracle he hadn’t drowned in the clutter.

He was causing her trouble. His massive body took up a lot of space. Whenever she needed to grab something extra, it turned into a shoving match. She always lost. Compared to him, she was tiny. This made the curses she muttered under her breath more frequent. He wasn’t one to let her have the last word either. The objects in the kitchen watched them with growing unease.

She tore her eyes away from her rival to grab a ladle. Scooping up some liquid, she cautiously blew on it and brought it to her lips. It tasted amazing. Her stomach growled at the thought of eating it. All that was left was to add salt. She reached for the bag. It was hard to get to it with Katsuki standing turned away, forcing her to squeeze past him.

— Maybe your highness could move over — she remarked sarcastically.

She didn’t expect the king to turn so quickly. Her foot landed on a still-wet patch of floor and she slid, feeling herself fall backward. She braced for the pain, extending her hands to try to soften the impact. Everything blurred around her. Just like yesterday — the thought crossed her mind. Indeed, it ended just as it had the day before. The beast caught her around the waist before she hit the floor. She tried to calm her pounding heart. She didn’t know whether it was racing because she had nearly fallen or from fear of being so close to this strange creature.

She expected the smell of an animal. Instead, she caught the scent of roses. Strong and sweet. For a moment, it was as if she saw a blue flower from the greenhouse. She shook her head.

— Thank you — she said, flustered.

He might have been gruff but he had saved her.

— Don’t get any ideas. You almost knocked over the saffron. — He pointed to the bottle in his left paw. — It’s worth more than you are — he added, smirking mockingly.

— You…— she began, her anger bubbling inside.

— Time for a taste test! — Kirishima shouted.

She was inwardly grateful he had interrupted. She might have said something she’d deeply regret.

Both dishes were placed on the counter.

— Who’s going to decide the winner? Do you guys even eat? — she realized, looking at their helpers.

The small crowd shook their heads.

— Then we’ll have to settle this ourselves — she muttered under her breath.

— How do I know you won’t cheat? — her rival asked suspiciously.

— There’s such a thing as honesty and honour… Clearly, you’re not familiar with them. — She smiled venomously.

— The lady won’t take this to the dining hall? — She knew he said it just to irritate her.

— That far? No way! — She grabbed a not-so-clean fork.

Wiping it on her apron, she began eating. She hadn’t expected such a rich and deep flavour. The soft pastry melted in her mouth. The meaty sauce poured over it was hearty. Perfect for winter’s chill. Everything was perfectly seasoned. Spicy but just light enough to make her want another bite.

Meanwhile, Bakugō lifted her bowl. He gave up on the spoon and brought the edge to his lips, only to spit everything out a second later. The objects turned their backs, desperately trying to suppress laughter. A faint giggle escaped from the corner, where they attempted to regain composure.

— Hey! Show some respect! — [Reader] had been prepared for insults but not for him to outright scorn her dish.

— Try it yourself. — The king shoved the bowl into her hands.

She did exactly as he had done earlier. A moment later, she spit it all out. The taste was so salty it was inedible.

— It must have been that stupid bag of salt — she realized, rubbing her temple. — Wait… This is your fault!

— How is it my fault that you’re a terrible cook? — He looked at her, clearly amused.

— Because I almost fell because of you. If you hadn’t taken up the entire kitchen, this wouldn’t have happened! — She pointed an accusing finger at him.

She was worn out after the entire afternoon. She wanted nothing more than to finish eating and hide away upstairs, far from the others. Especially the irritating king.

— You can’t admit defeat — he remarked.

— That’s not true!

— It is!

They probably could have gone back and forth forever. Fortunately, the ever-reliable Captain of the Guard stepped in.

— Maybe we’ll call it a draw? — he suggested.

— I don’t do draws — Katsuki growled.

— Neither do I! — [Reader] added.

— So, a rematch, fine lady? — the beast stated.

— Glad we’re on the same page — [Reader] replied.

The king nodded and walked away. In his mind, he was already forming a plan for what to prepare tomorrow. His dish would knock her off her feet. He’d make sure of it...