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Chapter Text

Once upon a time, in the hidden heart of Japan, a handsome, young prince bestowed with the name Shoto at birth, resided in a beautiful palace. Although he was given everything his heart desired, the prince was coarse and cold hearted. While the prince wasn’t a tyrannical ruler, the young boy showed no sympathy towards those who were less fortunate than he was. He felt no need to waste his time with such unimportant things , as he would put it.

Then one bitter night, an unexpected visitor arrived at the grand front doors of his palace, seeking the prince’s aid.

“I beg, beautiful Prince, I’m in need of food and water.” The woman had bemoaned, hobbling on her knees in front of the boy, who merely gazed down at her with little interest.

As a gift, she offered the prince a single rose.

Repulsed and agitated, the young boy turned the woman away with a dismissive wave of his hand.

The woman, persistent in him accepting the rose, offered the flower to the boy once more, giving him warning with a haunting sentence he would never forget.

“Dismissing the problem will never make it go away, beautiful Prince.”

The boy, now furious, turned the woman away a second time. When he dismissed her again, the old woman’s outward appearance melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress.

The prince, once tall and proud, fell to his knees and bowed in apology, but it was too late. For she had seen that there was no love or beauty in his heart. 

As punishment for his unkindness, she transformed the left side of his body into jagged stone. And placed a powerful spell on the palace and all who lived there.

As days bled into years, the young prince and his servants were long forgotten by the world, for the enchantress had erased all memory of them from the minds of the people they loved.

But the rose she had offered was truly an enchanted rose which would bloom on his twenty first year. If the prince could learn to love another and earn their love in return by the time the last petal fell the spell would be broken. 

If not, he would be doomed to adorn the razor sharp stone on the left side of his body for the rest of his days. 

As the years passed, he fell into despair and lost all hope.

For who could ever learn to love a monster?

Chapter Text

Izuku woke up with a start. From the moment his eyes cracked open, his mind was already set on what the day might hold. Living in the same small village since he was two years old, it was hard for his days to have any sense of adventure or thrill— like the scenarios he read in his books.

There was nothing more Izuku wanted than to be able to go on an adventure of his own, slaying dragons, meeting witches and warlocks, even finding a long lost prince would be better than being cooped up in the village everyday.

Alas, he would never have the courage to just up and leave. Especially not when his papa still needed him there at his side. Until the time being, his adventures would be imagined in his head as he read along the sentences of the books he borrowed from the library.

“Good morning!”

Izuku smiled politely, waving a small greeting in return. Every morning the town woke up together, yelling good mornings across their cottages as they prepared themselves for the day. While the townspeople did feel welcoming at times, Izuku was sure they teased him when he wasn’t looking. Afterall, reading was a strange concept to them, especially since he was a boy, stereotypically expected to be strong and hulking like the other men in the village.

Izuku would prefer reading over hunting innocent animals any day.

He walked down along the old cobblestone road towards the town’s library, passing through the heart of the village where all of its citizens gathered to sell and exchange their respective goods. Even that never changed after seventeen years. Same old clothes, same old bread, same old everything .

“Good morning, Izuku!” A familiar voice chirped from the horse stables.

Izuku turned at the energetic sound, and grinned upon seeing who the voice belonged to.

“Good morning, Yamada-san. How’s Eri-chan doing?” Izuku asked as he walked up to the blond man, reaching over the wooden doors of the stable to pet the beautiful, black steed huffing behind it.

“Well, she’s doing.” Yamada laughed airily. “She’s nearly done with the book she borrowed from the library. You’re an excellent teacher.”

Izuku’s cheeks flushed sheepishly. “Ah, it was nothing. Eri-chan’s a prodigy.”

“I’ll say.” The man smiled fondly. “Where are you off to, anyway?”

Izuku raised the book in his hand proudly. “To return this book to Shinso-kun. It’s about two lovers who live in a place called Italy. ”

Yamada hummed. “Sounds interesting.”

Izuku smiled, and waved goodbye to the man and his horse before making his way back to the main road where he passed a group of school boys and their teacher. He was almost positive he heard them whispering under their breath about him. He paid it no mind.

Finally, rounding the corner he smiled upon seeing the small cottage he came to know as the library. His favorite place in the entire village.

“Izuku, greetings.” Shinso nodded from a step ladder as he walked through the door and made his presence known.

“Shinso-kun,” Izuku bowed. “I came to return the book I borrowed.” 

“Ah,” The man hummed, and hopped off the ladder, dusting his trousers when his feet planted on the ground. “Where did you run off to this time?” 

Izuku chuckled, shaking his head. “A place called Italy. It sounded beautiful. Have you got any new places to go?” He asked while carefully slotting the book back in its place on the small shelf.

Shinso shook his head with a slight grimace. “I’m afraid not, but you’re free to reread any of the old ones that you’d like.”

He smiled despite the ounce of disappointment he felt. He should really learn to pace himself while he reads, but once Izuku picked up a book he couldn’t put it down.

“Thank you.” He sighed, picking out another romance novel. His favorite out of all six books that sat in the library. “Your library makes our corner of the world feel big.”

“See you.” Shinso waved, grinning broadly.

Izuku returned his smile, and exited the small cottage, cracking the book open to the first page as soon as he stepped out onto the streets.

Walking through the village as he read was anything but a challenge for him. Izuku’s done it so many times, it’s become second nature. Even as everything around him faded as he got lost in the beautiful words of the novel, he was still mindful of the whispers and mumbles his ears picked up on regarding his strange hobby. He didn’t care about what they thought, regardless.

Izuku hugged the book to his chest, his heart pounding in excitement. His favorite part. When the sweet village girl meets Prince Charming, though she won’t know it’s him until chapter three. 

He continued down the path back to his cottage, walking right through the heart of the village once more. Bustling as always, it was. He could hardly make out what anyone was saying. Shutting his book, saving the best parts for the comfort of his home, Izuku nodded to the townspeople as he passed by them, some of them shooting him strange glares.

“Deku!”

Izuku cringed. Not now. Polite as he was, Izuku could not stand being around Kacchan longer than he deemed necessary. He was always trying to show off his… muscles. Izuku was hardly ever impressed by him.

Alas, ignoring the man would only make him more insistent, so he turned robotically, and plastered a tight lipped smile on his face. The first thing he noticed was a bouquet of flowers grasped tightly in the man’s hand.

Great. 

“Interesting book you got there.” Kacchan pointed out.

Izuku blinked, surprised. “Have you read it?”

Kacchan hesitated, before grinning hotly. “Well, not that one. The books I read are far more difficult than the ones you busy yourself with. I’m probably the best reader in the entire village.” 

And that’s when Izuku lost interest. He could not stand Kacchan’s gloating, even if the man was lying straight through his perfectly straight teeth. Kacchan couldn’t read even if it were to save his life.

“Here,” The man said, suddenly shoving the bouquet into Izuku’s chest. “For your dinner table. Shall I join you this evening?” 

Izuku grimaced. “Um, sorry, not this evening, Kacchan.”

The man frowned. “Busy with something?” 

Gods, why couldn’t he just give it up? 

“No…” Izuku trailed off, slowly stepping away from the man and turning away cringing. 

Back to his cottage he went, looking over his shoulder a few times just in case Kacchan decided to trail him home.

Walking through the front door, the first sight he was greeted with was his papa sitting at his work table, fidgeting with his most recent project.

Papa peered up at him, smiling once he recognized who it was. His blond hair sticking up in all sorts of directions as he pushed his goggles out of his face, showing his sunken eyes. 

“Izuku, my boy. How was town?” Papa asked, smiling kindly.

Izuku shrugged, taking a seat next to him. “Same old, same old. Though, I did get a new book from Iida-kun.”

Papa huffed a smile. “You and your books.” 

They sat in silence for a moment, Papa continued to fiddle with the small music box in his bony hands.

“Papa,” Izuku spoke up. “do you think I’m strange?”

The middle aged man peered at him, his hands pausing in their movement. 

“My son, strange? Where did you get an idea like that?”

Izuku stood from his seat with a defeated sigh. “I don’t know. People talk.”

Papa shrugged. “This is a small village, you know. Small minded as well. But small also means safe .”

Izuku smiled wearily. Safe.

“Even back in our old village, I knew a woman who was so ahead of her time. So different. People mocked her, until the day they all found themselves imitating her.”

Izuku’s heart painfully skipped a beat. He walked forward, stopping right in front of Papa with a pleading look in his eyes.

“Please, just tell me one more thing about her.” He begged. 

A look of brief sadness passed over his Papa’s face, and almost immediately did he take back his request.

“Your mother,” He began. “was strong.”

Izuku smiled softly. He could imagine that.

“You have everything you need for the trip with you?” Izuku asked once more as Papa situated himself on the wagon connected to their horse, Hana.

“Of course I do, no need to worry.” Papa smiled, grabbing the harness as Izuku leaned his chin on his knee. “What would you like from the market?”

Izuku smiled. “A rose. Like the one Mama left.”

Papa shook his head fondly. “You ask for that every year.”

“And every year you bring it.” 

“Then I shall bring you another. You have my word.” The man nodded, petting Izuku’s wild head of curls.

“Goodbye, Papa. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He said, backing away from the wagon with a small smile.

“Right. Tomorrow, with the rose.” He called out over the sound of Hana’s hooves hitting the cobblestone pathway. 

Izuku chuckled under his breath, watching him disappear beyond the village. 

“Stay safe.”

Now that he was left alone for the next day, Izuku got to work right away with chores that needed to get done before the sun set. 

Such as washing clothes in the village square. It was his favorite chore to do, solely for the reason that it gave him time to sit down and read while he waited for his clothes to finish washing. 

“What are you doing?” 

Izuku glanced up from his book at the voice, looking in the direction of a young boy standing a few feet away from him with a curious look on his face.

He smiled, kind. “The laundry.”

The boy continued to stare, his eyes trailing down to the book in his hands. Izuku’s smile widened.

“Come,” He beckoned with a hand, patting the stone next to him. The boy reluctantly joined him. Izuku grinned. “Would you like to learn to read?”

“What on earth are you doing?” 

The two of them looked up simultaneously, under the glare of the Headmaster. Izuku gulped.

“Teaching another boy to read? Isn’t one enough?” He sneered.

Izuku’s mouth opened, but no words were spoken. 

A woman standing besides the man muttered something into his ear as she aimed a glare his way. This would end badly.

A group of four men stepped into the well, and stopped the horse from turning Izuku’s laundry. Oh no.

“Hey, w-wait—!” Izuku yelped, but it was too late.

The men dumped his clothes out onto the dirt floor without a care. Izuku fell to the floor in embarrassment, quickly picking his clothes off of the ground in hopes to salvage them. Nobody bothered to help him.

As he walked past the gates of his house, after hanging his dirtied clothes to dry, a familiar — ear grating — voice called his name.

“Deku! I heard you had trouble with the Headmaster. He never liked me either.” Kacchan shrugged, leaning smugly on the gates of Izuku’s front lawn.

Izuku promptly ignored him and turned to walk through his front door. He should have known better than to ignore Kacchan.

“Honestly, if you don’t want the villagers to detest you, you shouldn’t try to change the way things are.” The man said, hopping over the fence and walking straight over to Izuku.

He sighed, annoyed. “All I wanted was to teach a child to read. Is that really so bad?”

Kacchan scoffed. “You shouldn’t concern yourself with children , Deku. The only thing you should be concerned about right now is getting married.” 

And to his horror, Kacchan gestured to himself as he uttered the word married.

Gods, no. 

Izuku grimaced and stepped around the man. “I’m not ready for marriage.”

Kacchan was insistent. “You just haven’t met the right guy yet.”

“It’s a small village, Kacchan. I’ve met them all.” Izuku replied, hoping he’d get the hint.

Predictably, he doesn’t.

“Maybe you should take another look. Some of us have changed.”

Izuku groaned inwardly as he turned sharply on his heel to meet the man’s prideful gaze.

“Kacchan, we could never make each other happy. No one can change… that much.” He said as politely as he could.

Kacchan shook his head. “Do you know what happens to spinsters in this village after their fathers die?” He pointed off in the distance at an old woman begging for money on the side of the road. “They end up like that old hag.”

Izuku was more than just annoyed now.

“Well, for starters, I’m not a woman. And second off, I don’t need anyone to take care of me. I can do that just fine on my own.” He frowned and slowly backed away into his house.

“Don’t be stubborn, Deku.” Kacchan scoffed.

With a sharp sigh, Izuku delivered the final blow. “I’m never going to marry you, Kacchan. I’m sorry.” He said as he closed the door on the man’s face.

He couldn’t imagine living the life of that man’s little wife. If he wanted adventure, he definitely wasn’t going to get it from him. Izuku would be treated like glass— and he was anything but that.

For once, it’d be great if someone could just understand that he wouldn’t be tied down to the village for the rest of his life. 

He would get the adventure he craved. One day. 

The next morning, while Izuku busied himself in the garden, the sound of Hana’s whinnying brought a smile to his face. Though, as he took a closer look, he realized Papa wasn’t with her.

“Hana!” He gasped, taking in her dirtied white coat as she gulped down water. He looked past her in hopes Papa had just dawdled behind her but to no avail. Papa was nowhere in sight.

“Where’s Papa?” He uselessly asked the horse, holding her face by her reins. Izuku inhaled a breath, deciding then what he would do. “Take me to him!”

And off they went, deep into the woods Izuku had never once stepped foot in before. The farther they went, the colder it got, and soon enough, the ground was covered in a fluffy white powder.

Snow in June. 

Hana stopped in front of a splintered tree trunk, just a few feet away from it was Papa’s music box, broken and disregarded in the snow.

“Papa,” Izuku whispered, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. He snapped the harness around Hana, and she immediately started galloping once again.

They went until they rode past the grand gates of a— castle. A beautiful, rustic, old castle, with snow covering its entire exterior. How utterly strange. 

Izuku dismounted the horse, petting her snout to calm her, and reached for a lone stick sitting in the snow. Better to have something for defense in case he was forced to hurt someone.

He walked towards the doors of the castle, and without hesitation, pushed them open. They groaned and squeaked in protest, but Izuku paid it no mind. He surveyed the room, holding the stick close to his chest.

Everything was dirty and covered in dust and mildew. Izuku was beginning to think he had wandered into a lone castle.

“ But what if he is the one? The one who’ll break the spell? ” 

Izuku turned at the sound of the voice, holding the stick out with trembling hands.

“Who said that?” He called, his voice echoing in the spacious room. Nobody responded to him. “Who’s there?” He tried again, with the same results.

Izuku crept in the direction of the voice, though the only thing he saw was a beautiful, golden candelabra, and an equally beautiful mantle clock. Strange.

A sickening cough echoed from the stairs of the castle.

Izuku’s eyes widened. Papa. 

Without hesitation, he picked up the candelabra, and rushed up the stairs, his hood swooshing behind him. He followed the sound of the cough, his stomach filling with dread with each step he took.

“Papa?” He called, his eyebrows furrowing. 

He continued to climb up the stairs until he reached the gates of a dungeon, Papa sitting behind it, slumped and appearing weak. 

Izuku gasped, and stumbled over to him, placing the candle on a protruding slab of stone.

“Papa!” He cried, grabbing onto the man’s hands. They were freezing. 

“Izuku? H-How did you find me?” The man coughed dryly, leaning his frail body against the gate. He looked absolutely terrible. His eyes were more sunken in then before, and his entire body was trembling.

“Y-Your hands are ice.” Izuku whispered, trying his best to warm them up with his own. “We need to get you home.”

“Izuku, you must leave here at once!” The man warned, gripping onto Izuku’s hands. “This castle is alive!” Izuku stared at the man in confusion. He must have hit his head.

“Now go, before he finds you!” 

Izuku shook his head, puzzled. “W-Who, Papa?”

A loud screeching sound filled his ears unpleasantly, like the sound of nails on a chalkboard.

Izuku flinched.

“Who’s there? Wh-Who are you?” He called, cursing himself for stuttering.

“Who are you?” A deep voice of a man called back.

Izuku gulped. “I’ve come for my father.”

A tall figure lurked in the shadows. “Your father is a thief .” The man spat with malice.

Izuku shook his head. “Liar.”

“He stole a rose from my garden.”

Horror dawned on him. “N-No— I-I was the one who asked for the rose. Punish me, n-not him. Please.” He begged to the man.

“No, Izuku! He means forever.” Papa coughed.

Izuku gulped, still facing the silhouette. “A l-life sentence for a rose?” He asked in a small voice.

The figure stepped further out of the shadows. One of the man’s eyes was glowing red. It looked inhuman.

“I received eternal damnation for one. I’m merely locking him away.” The man said, eerily calm. “Now, do you still wish to take your father’s place?”

Izuku inhaled shakily. “C-Come into the light.”

The figure grunted but didn’t comply.

Izuku frowned at his reluctance, and grabbed the candelabra before taking a step closer to the man.

He gasped softly at the sight of a man half covered in— stone. Razor sharp stone, with pointy white teeth, red hair, and an elves ear covering the left side of his face and body. The right side remained untouched, a young man with a grey eye, snow white hair, and porcelain skin glared at him. He was nothing short of devilish. A monster. 

“Choose.” The man sneered, his red eye glowing brighter.

“Izuku, I won’t let you do this.” Papa hissed. “I lost your mother, and I won’t lose you, too.” 

Izuku turned to him, tears burning behind his eyes.

“Now, go.” Papa insisted.

Izuku nodded weakly. “All right. I’ll leave.” He turned to the monster standing before him. “M-May I have a minute alone with him?”

The man scoffed and turned to walk away.

Izuku gulped. “Please. Just one minute. Just to say goodbye.”

His begging seemed to work. The man let out an impatient sigh before spinning back around, and walking towards a lever. He pulled it down as he stared into Izuku’s eyes, the gates opening behind him.

“When this door closes, it will not open again.”

Izuku heeded his warning with a nod, before stepping into the dungeon and throwing his arms around Papa, spinning them around until the man’s back was facing outside of the dungeon.

“I should have been with you.” Izuku sniffed, the tears already cascading down his face for what he was about to do.

“Oh, no, no. Izuku, listen to me. It’s all right. Now go.” Papa smiled, caressing under his eyes to wipe away the wetness. “Live your life, and forget me.”

Izuku sobbed softly. “Forget you? E-Everything I am is because of you.”

Papa smiled, and Izuku could tell he was putting on a brave face for him. “I love you, Izuku. Don’t be afraid.”

“I love you too, Papa. I’m not afraid.” He whispered, wrapping his arms around the man’s neck again. This was it.

“And I will escape, I promise.” He whispered into his ear, before shoving him out of the dungeon and quickly closing the gates before Papa could try and stop him.

The monster glanced down at Papa’s heaping figure, and then glanced back up at Izuku with mild interest flickering in his grey eye.

“You took his place.” He stated.

Izuku nodded firmly despite the tear that streamed down his face. “Of course I did. He’s my father.”

“He’s a fool.” The man scoffed. “And so are you.”

The monster stalked towards Papa, and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, dragging him mercilessly across the stone floor.

“P-Papa!” Izuku cried. “Don’t hurt him, please!” 

“Izuku, I’ll come back!” Papa yelled. “I promise!”

Those were the last words he heard before Papa completely disappeared from his sight. Izuku sank down to the floor, sobbing into his knees as his heart ached for the familiarity of his cottage.

It must have been hours before any sort of noise came from outside his cell. Izuku, still a heap on the dirty floor, nearly jumped out of his skin when the gates to his cell suddenly opened. Though, he hadn’t noticed anyone coming up the stairs— and it surely couldn’t have been the man from earlier.

“Forgive my intrusion, beau , but I have come to escort you to your room.” 

Izuku flinched at the sound of the voice— familiar. He’s heard it before.

“M-My room?” He asked, his voice hoarse from all the crying he had done. “But I-I thought…”

“Oh, what? That once this door closes it will not open again ? I know. He gets so dramatic sometimes.” The voice mocked in a deep voice, presumably acting as the man.

Izuku slowly inched out of the dungeon, and blinked when he saw the candelabra hanging from the lever used to shut the gates. 

What on…

“Hello.” It spoke. 

It spoke. 

Izuku yelped, quickly backing away into a wall. What the hell.

“Oh, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” The candle laughed.

Izuku… was going crazy. Yes. That had to be it. “Wh-What are you?”

The candle dropped to the floor, landing on his metallic feet. It looked like… a miniature man. 

“I am Aoyama!” It introduced, bowing at the waist charmingly.

“And you can talk?” Izuku asked warily and out of breath. 

“Of course he can talk. It’s all he ever does.” Another voice spoke from beside him. Coming up the stairs was the mantle clock he saw earlier, talking. “Aoyama, as head of the household, I demand that you put him back in his cell at once.”

Izuku couldn’t believe his eyes. He had to be dreaming. His imagination did tend to go absolutely wild with all the books he read. That most certainly had to be it. 

Aoyama turned to him with an encouraging smile, bopping the mantle clock with a lit candle and promptly ignored his order. “Ready, monsieur ?” 

Izuku’s mouth hung open. Absolutely not.

“You must forgive first impressions. I hope you are not too startled.” Aoyama said as they led him to his room.

Izuku, on the verge of hysterics, clipped a laugh. “Startled? Why would I be startled? I’m talking to a candle .”

“Candelabra, please. Enormous difference.” Aoyama tutted gently. “But consider me at your service. The castle is your home now, so feel free to go anywhere you like.” 

“Except the west wing.” The mantle clock, he came to know as Iida, spoke from below them.

Aoyama rapidly shook his head. Izuku squinted suspiciously.

“Ah, which we obviously do not have.” Iida corrected quickly, but Izuku had caught on.

“Why? What’s in the west wing?” He asked, looking over at Aoyama.

“Oh, nothing! Storage space. That’s it. Yes, that’s it.” Aoyama chuckled, brushing it off. 

“This way, please. To the east wing.” Iida said, enunciating east. They were definitely hiding something.

“Or as I like to call it, the only wing.” Aoyama laughed, obviously forced. 

Izuku’s gaze lingered on the west wing, curiosity filling his head with unanswered questions.

They continued to walk until they stopped in front of two beautifully decorated doors. Aoyama hopped out of Izuku’s grasp, and bounced off of Iida’s head, landing on the floor. 

The candelabra walked up to the doors and pushed them open with an impressive amount of strength. 

“Welcome to your new home.” Aoyama grinned. “It’s modest, but comfortable.”

The room was anything but modest. Gorgeously decorated in a pale baby blue color, the edges of the walls were lined with gold. It was too beautiful to even describe with words. Izuku could hardly take in the sight of the room. His room.

“It’s beautiful.” He murmured. 

“But of course! Master Shoto wanted you to have the finest room in the castle.” Aoyama exclaimed, jumping onto the queen sized bed, creating a billow of dust. “Oh, dear. We were not expecting guests.” He coughed.

Izuku swatted the dust away with a hand as a feather duster gracefully floated right past him.

“Hello, handsome.” She giggled. “Don’t worry. I’ll have this place spotless in no time.”

“Uraraka-chan, how lovely of you to join us.” Aoyama smiled as the feather duster— Uraraka joined him on the bed.

“I heard we had a guest and couldn’t wait to meet them. Nobody mentioned he was so cute!” Uraraka giggled, and Izuku flushed at the praise.

“He is quite the looker, is he not?” Aoyama agreed. 

Izuku turned away from their gaze, flustered at all the compliments. “I-Is everything here alive?” He asked, walking over to a vanity and picking up a brush. “Hello. What’s your name?”

The guests in the room chuckled.

“That is a hairbrush.” Iida corrected.

Izuku’s lips wobbled in embarrassment.

Suddenly, the closet sitting beside the vanity opened up and let out a scream. Well— more like a belt. 

He jumped back in alarm, holding a hand up to his chest to contain his pounding heart. How many more surprises did they have up their sleeves?

“Do not be frightened. This is just your wardrobe. Meet Ashido Mina. She’s an amazing singer.” Aoyama introduced.

Iida scoffed. “When she can stay awake.”

The wardrobe— Ashido tutted. “Iida! A diva needs her beauty rest…” She broke off into a yawn.

“Stay with us, Madame.” Aoyama chuckled. “We have someone for you to dress.”

Ashido gasped in delight, he presumed. “Finally, a beautiful boy.” The arms of the wardrobe stuck out, and pulled Izuku closer to her by his shoulders. “Pretty eyes, proud face. Perfect canvas, yes! I will find you something worthy of a prince.”

Izuku gawked at the slew of compliments. “B-But I’m not a prince.” 

“Nonsense!” Ashido exclaimed. “Now, let’s see what I’ve got in my drawers.” 

Before he could object, thousands of fabrics came flying out of Ashido’s wardrobe, wrapping around his entire body in mere seconds. By the time it was over, Izuku was stiff with the fabrics of yukatas and kimonos draping over his shoulders.

“Perfect!” Ashido squealed. Izuku held back a grimace.

“Subtle. Understated. I love it! Au revoir!” Aoyama laughed as he walked backwards towards the exit. The other two following closely behind him.

“Send my love to the other’s!” Ashido cried before slumping forward, loud snores coming from her open wardrobe. 

Izuku huffed and sank to the floor, crawling out from the loose fabrics and walking towards a lone window he hadn’t noticed before. An escape plan was already forming in his head. Though, once he peered down…

The window was at least twenty feet off the ground. He’d never jump from this height and survive to run back to the village. With a troubled mind, he turned to look back in the room, perhaps the Master they called Shoto had left a rope lying around somewhere.

Izuku paused, and casted his gaze back to the fabrics. 

He had an idea.

Three pounding knocks at his door frightened Izuku so badly he almost stumbled out of the open window. He fell to the floor, tucking his knees up to his chest as he stared at the door in anticipation. 

“ You will join me for dinner. That’s not a request. ” 

Izuku gulped, recognizing the voice instantly. Fear paralyzed his vocal chords. What would Master Shoto do if he barged in and realized what Izuku was planning?

Two more knocks — noticeably softer — sound at the door after a moment. Izuku stood up nervously, tucking the bottom of his homemade rope under the bed.

“J-Just a minute!” He called.

The silence was stifling.

“ Will you join me for dinner? ”

Izuku’s suddenly filled with outrage. Unbelievable, he was. “You’ve taken me as your prisoner and now you want to have dinner with me? Who even does such a thing?!” He scoffed, walking up to the door but not daring to open it.

The pounding on the door started up again, this time more vicious. Izuku flinched backwards.

“ I told you to join me for dinner! ” The man growled, sounding monstrous, matching his looks perfectly.  

“And I told you no!” Izuku yelled back. “I’d starve before I ever acted civilly with you.”

A growl was heard from the other sound of the door. “Well, be my guest! Go ahead and starve! If he doesn’t eat with me, then he doesn’t eat at all!”

Izuku frowned at his last sentence. The others must be with him, he decided. They should have known better than to aid their master in trying to get Izuku out of his room. Especially to join him for dinner. 

He fell back to the floor, knees tucked up to his chest once again as tears stung his eyes.

He missed the village, despite always wanting to leave.

He missed Papa. 

In the middle of Izuku throwing his homemade rope down the window, another knock came from the door, startling him horribly.

He frowned. “I told you to go away.”

“ Oh, don’t worry, darling. It’s only Miss Yaoyorozu. ” That… certainly wasn’t the voice of Master Shoto. Izuku rushed to hide the rope as best he could, though his attempts were futile.

The doors cracked open on their own, and a tea table rolled in. Sat atop the small table was a beautiful teapot with a face drawn on it. Yet another living house appliance— brilliant. 

“Oh my. You are beautiful.” Yaoyorozu gasped, delighted. “How lovely to make your acquaintance.” 

Yaoyorozu’s eyes fell to the floor, and Izuku cringed. She must’ve noticed the rope. 

“Oh,” She sighed. “It’s a very long journey. Let me fix you up before you go.” Izuku slowly untensed, not sensing any danger from the teapot. “I have found that most troubles seem less troubling after a bracing cup of tea.” She tipped sideways and poured a steaming hot liquid into a teacup.

Izuku walked over to the table, smiling softly at her hospitality. He sipped on the tea, humming politely at the rich taste.

“That was a very brave thing you did for your father, darling.” Yaoyorozu spoke, reverently.

Suddenly, Ashido’s wardrobe opened. “Yes, we all think so.” She added.

Izuku smiled wearily. “I’m worried about him. He’s never been on his own before.”

Yaoyorozu sighed. “Cheer up, my darling. Things will turn out in the end. You’ll feel a lot better after dinner.”

Izuku frowned in confusion. “But Master Shoto said if he doesn’t eat with me then he doesn’t eat at all. ” 

Yaoyorozu chuckled. “Please, do not let him hear you call him Master . Refer to him as Shoto, as you do not serve him.” The teapot smiled. “As for what he said— trust me, he didn’t mean it. People say a lot of things when they’re angry. Especially Master Shoto. It’s our choice whether or not to listen.” She began rolling out of the room. 

“You coming, darling?” She called.

He hesitated for a moment.

“Go!” Ashido urged, and Izuku couldn’t refuse.

“Welcome, beau !” Aoyama greeted from the dinner table. 

Izuku smiled and waved, feeling as if he didn’t belong in a room full of talking kitchenware.

“The dishes have been busy preparing your dinner. We hope it’s to your liking.” The candelabra continued, gesturing to a plate sitting at the end of the table closests to Izuku. “Please, sit.”

Izuku yelped as he was knocked off his feet and into a comfortable chair that scooted into the table on its own. He felt a bit guilty for sitting on something that was clearly alive.

“Enjoy your dinner as our lovely Jiro serenades you with her excellent piano playing.” Aoyama grinned, gesturing to a grand piano sitting behind him, which seemed to be alive as well.

“Aoyama— I said no music. If Master finds out you served him dinner, he’ll put the blame on me !” Iida snapped, smacking the candelabra with a wooden hand.

“Yes, I will make sure of that.” Aoyama laughed, pushing the clock off of the table. Izuku gasped, and tried to make sure he was okay. Did these appliances have no will to live?

“Oh, do not worry about him. He is fine. You just enjoy your dinner, beau.” Aoyama waved, and signaled behind Izuku— presumably at Jiro to begin playing.

Izuku did as he was told and hesitantly began eating.

“I don’t understand why you’re all being so kind to me.” Izuku frowned as Yaoyorozu walked him back to his room. “Surely, you’re as trapped here as I am. Don’t you ever want to escape?”

“The master’s not as terrible as he appears.” Yaoyorozu hummed as she rolled on her tea table. “Somewhere deep in his soul, there’s a prince— of a fellow who’s just waiting to be set free.”

Izuku noticed the slight hitch in her sentence. He looked towards the west of the castle.

“Aoyama mentioned something about the west wing.” He mumbled.

“Never you mind that.” Yaoyorozu tutted gently. Izuku turned back towards her. “Off to bed with you now, darling.”

He smiled sheepishly, and bowed his head. “Goodnight, Yaoyorozu-san.”

The teapot winked at him. “Nighty-night.”

And with that she rolled off back towards the kitchen.

Izuku waited until he could no longer hear the sound of her wheels turning before climbing up the stairs headed straight for the west wing. His curiosity was killing him, though he felt guilt seeping into the pit of his stomach at deceiving the teapot. He had to know what they were hiding.

He quickly ascended the stairs until he reached a room that looked like a tornado had passed through it. Messy and dingy. Eerie, as well.

Izuku surveyed the room, taking in everything quickly so he could be on his way. His eyes land on a portrait of some kind, hanging sideways, with a large tear going through the fabric of the canvas. It looked to be a family portrait of some kind— he could barely make out any faces, it was covered in dust.

It had to be a bedroom of some sort. There was a grand bed sitting with its headboard against the wall, curtains draped all around it. It certainly had the makings of a bedroom, though Izuku could not figure out who it belonged to.

As he crept further into the room, he noticed a glass dome sitting out on the terrace. As he got closer, he caught a glimpse of something sitting inside of the glass.

Was that…  

He inched his fingers towards the glass slowly, squinting to get a better look, before a loud slam of a door startled him backwards.

“ What are you doing here?! What did you do to it?! ” The voice of Shoto bellowed. He hastily walked past Izuku, examining what was inside before aiming his flinty gaze at him.

“N-Nothing— I’m sorry.” Izuku apologized, backing away quickly.

“Do you realize what you could have done?” Shoto spat, stalking up to him with a glare so frightening Izuku stood frozen in his spot. A pair of hands grabbed at his shoulders roughly, one significantly less painful than the other. The stone. “You could have damned us all! Get out of here! Go! ” 

Shoved backwards, Izuku immediately took off running, his legs shakily taking him out of the room and down the stairs, back to the main entrance of the castle.

“Izuku, what are you doing?!” He heard Aoyama call as he ran towards the doors of the castle.

“I’m getting out of here!” Izuku yelled, roughly scrubbing away at the tears that fell from his eyes.

“Stop, it’s not safe!” He heard Iida exclaim, but he refused to wait. This would probably be his only chance to go back to the village and see Papa again. He had to go.

Izuku pushed past the doors and ran out to find Hana, spotting her immediately. He mounted the steed before snapping the harness, letting the horse know to run.

The wind whipped past Izuku’s face, cold and stinging against his cheeks and nose, but no matter. He was so close to freedom and Papa— he could almost see him now.

Under the sound of Hana galloping, Izuku heard the sound of a howl— multiple howls. 

Wolves. 

His breathing hitched as he turned over his shoulder, immediately confirming his suspicions. Wolves… everywhere.

“Oh no,” He muttered, dread filling him. “Come on, Hana!” 

The horse continued galloping, even as the wolves attempted to surround and intimidate them, snapping their teeth and growling loudly.

A gasp ripped itself from Izuku’s throat as Hana lost her footing on black ice, making the ground too slippery for her to run on.

A wolf came up to her leg and growled, making the horse rear, almost throwing Izuku off the saddle in the process.

“H-Hana—!” Izuku yelped, gasping harshly as he heard a wolf snap its teeth near his ear. He jumped off the horse, his eyes zoning in on a lone stick big enough to defend himself with.

The wolves surrounded them now, drawing in closer and closer. Izuku’s breathing was labored, his heart pounding wildly in his chest.

This would be his end.

He watched closely as one of the wolves braced its front legs in the snow— preparing to lunge at him.

“ Please ,” Izuku whispered, tears falling down his face as his lips trembled with fear.

It lunged and Izuku ducked his head, covering his face with his arms at a futile attempt to protect himself.

But the pain he expected never came.

Instead he felt— a chill and heat. 

Izuku’s arms fell to his side as he openly stared at the back profile of— Shoto. His mouth flew open in shock as he watched ice and fire form in either one of Shoto’s palms, building up to the size of his head before shooting them mercilessly at the wolves.

Izuku gasped, amazed even in the situation he was in. He’d always heard of warlocks in the books he read— he always thought they were made up in fiction. Magic. It was magic. It had to be. 

As the last of the wolves scampered away, whimpering in fear, Izuku spotted a lone wolf growling from the bushes mere inches away from the man. 

He gasped, and shouted a warning. “Sh-Shoto— look out!”

The warning was heeded too late— the wolf pounced and landed on the man’s back, tearing through Shoto’s coat and leaving a huge scratch on his right shoulder.

The man cried out in pain and fell to his knees, throwing the wolf over his shoulder. Izuku choked on a scream at the sight of blood gushing out of Shoto’s arm.

Noticeably weak, Shoto built up a final ball of ice, not as big as the previous ones, before shooting it at the wolf and knocking it backwards with a loud yelp.

The wolves ran off back into the woods, whimpering as they left. Shoto slowly turned his body to face Izuku, his right eye was half way shut as he fell forward into the snow, collapsing and staining the white powder beneath him crimson with his blood.

Izuku stuttered on a gasp as he ran towards the man, falling to his knees beside him as he checked for a pulse on the side of his neck where there wasn’t stone. 

It was faint— but it was there. He was still alive. 

Izuku called for Hana with a whistle and shouldered Shoto as best he could onto the steed without injuring his arm any further. 

He saved Izuku’s life, he realized as he led Hana back towards the castle, Shoto slumped forward on her saddle.

Perhaps the monster did have a heart after all. 

Chapter Text

When they arrived back at the castle, the appliances gasped in utter horror at the state of their master. Izuku frowned, guilty, but shook off the feeling immediately. He had no time to think about himself— he had to worry about Shoto first.

The man let out a vicious growl of pain, hissing through his teeth, “ That hurts! ”

They had managed to get Shoto back to his bedroom and into bed, stripped of his undershirt and coat so that Izuku could — try — to tend to his wounds.

He gripped the damp towel in his hand, frustrated with the man. “If you held still, it wouldn’t hurt as much.” He pointed out, sharp.

Shoto scoffed, glaring at him from his pillow. “Well, if you hadn’t run away, none of this would have happened.”

The guilt slammed into Izuku’s chest. Gods, he hadn’t wanted anyone to confirm his feelings. Shoto didn’t have to help him, but he did anyway. And now, thanks to Izuku, he was gravely hurt.

He sighed, deciding then that he wouldn’t show how much the man’s previous sentence actually stung. “Well, if you hadn’t frightened me, I wouldn’t have run away.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have been in the west wing.”

“Well, you should learn to control your temper!” Izuku shot back, the frustration he felt leaking into his words. 

Shoto growled and turned on his side, facing away from him. Izuku sighed before dropping the towel back into the steaming water— this was going absolutely nowhere.

He sat up from the bed, still facing the man, before muttering, “Try to get some rest.” 

“Thank you, darling.” Yaoyorozu sighed from beside the bed on her tea table.

“Yes, we are eternally grateful.” Aoyama added reverently.

Izuku rubbed his eyes, exhausted from the events that had occurred in the last few hours. “Why do you care about him so much?” He asked, genuinely curious as to how a crude monster could have such amazing— things look after him.

“We’ve looked after him since he was young. Since the master was sixteen, we’ve always been with him.” Yaoyorozu said gently, her voice almost sounded fond with affection.

Izuku couldn’t fathom it. “But he’s cursed you somehow. Why? You all did nothing.” He spoke as he looked around the room at all the living inanimate objects.

Yaoyorozu chuckled. “You’re quite right there, darling.” Her voice took a sudden change. Sorrowful, it was. “You see, when the master lost his mother and his cruel father took that sweet, innocent boy…” 

Izuku’s eyes trailed over to the sleeping figure in the bed. 

“And twisted him up to be just like him… we did nothing.” Yaoyorozu finished pitifully.

Aoyama rested a candle on the teapot, for comfort Izuku supposed. “Let him sleep.” He said, hopping off the bed, everyone trailing behind him.

Izuku waited a moment longer, letting his gaze linger on Shoto for a few more seconds before heeding Aoyama’s gentle order.

Dawdling back to his room, Izuku couldn’t help but to think that there was something much deeper going on in the castle. When he had first arrived, he was so innocent and certain about the happenings that went on. Now that he knew a little more— now that he’s a bit wiser, he’s unsure. He’s unsure of everything.

“If I may ask, what happens when the last petal falls?” Izuku asked after tending to his daily duties of caring for Shoto’s wounds. The man had fallen into a peaceful slumber after Izuku had finished— he always seemed to drift off during his checkups.

“The master remains a monster forever. And we become…” Aoyama trailed off. 

“Antiques,” Yaoyorozu added breezily. 

“Knick-knacks,” Aoyama nodded.

“Lightly-used houseware.” Uraraka huffed, fluffing her feathers. 

“Trash. We become trash.” Iida frowned.

Izuku sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb Shoto. “I want to help you. There must be some way to break the curse.” 

“Well, there is one way—“ Iida started before being cut off by Aoyama hitting him square on the face of his clock.

Yaoyorozu tutted. “It’s nothing for you to worry about, darling. We’ve made our bed and we must lie in it.”

Izuku frowned at her discouraging words. Why wouldn’t they just tell him? There was definitely something they weren’t telling him. All he wanted was to help.

Izuku watched with sorrowful eyes as another petal fell from the rose inside the glass dome.

No matter what they said, he would help. Somehow, someway. 

“ Love can transpose to form and dignity. ” Izuku read aloud, sitting in a chair besides Shoto’s bed. “ Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind and therefore… ”

“ And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind. ” Shoto interrupted, finishing the line of the passage word for word. 

Izuku startled slightly at his rough voice, not expecting him to have spoken up at all. Especially not to him.

“You know Shakespeare?” Izuku asked, highly intrigued and now facing the man.

Shoto grunted softly as he leaned himself back against the headboard of his bed. 

“I had an expensive education.” Was all he said on the matter.

Izuku smiled softly nonetheless. “Actually, Romeo and Juliet is my favorite play.”

Shoto groaned with a roll of his eyes, his head falling back against his pillow dramatically. “Why is that not a surprise?”

Izuku gawked, enthralled by his reaction. “Pardon?”

The man shrugged with a disapproving shake of his head. “Well, all that heartache and pining and…” He made a theatrical shuddering noise. “So many better things to read, honestly.”

Izuku scoffed, indignant but at the same time— pleased. “Like what?” He challenged.

Shoto arched a brow at him.

“There are a couple of things in here you could start with.” The man said offhandedly as led them past two wooden doors, revealing a grand library absolutely filled to the brim with books . 

Izuku could hardly believe his eyes. He had never seen so many books in one place before. The sight almost brought tears to his eyes.

“Are you all right?” He heard Shoto ask. 

Izuku turned to the man, his heart thrumming in his chest from the overwhelming amount of books that lined the walls.

He nodded jerkily, smiling widely. “It’s wonderful.”

Shoto hummed, sounding unsure. “Yes, I… suppose it is.” 

Izuku turned back to the books, afraid they might disappear before he even got the chance to read any of them.

“Well, if you like it so much, then it’s yours.”

Izuku gaped, unsure how to respond to such a grand gesture. How could he ever refuse?

Shoto turned his back to him and began walking further into the library when a question came to the tip of Izuku’s tongue.

“Have you really read every one of these books before?”

The man paused, and peered at him over his shoulder with a gentle scoff. “Well, not all of them. Some of them are in Chinese.”

Izuku spluttered, heat rushing to his cheeks merrily. “Was that a joke? Are you making jokes now?”

Shoto shrugged his shoulders, the stone on his left side creaking. “Maybe.”

Izuku chuckled with delight watching Shoto disappear further into the library, leaving Izuku alone in the room full of books.

He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from exclaiming in excitement. An entire room filled with books— all to himself. 

It was a dream.

“ The air is blue and keen and cold and in a frozen sheath, enrolled. Each branch, each twig, each blade of grass seems clad miraculously with… glass.” 

Izuku paused in his reading, noticing Shoto had stopped walking beside him in favor of taking in the view of the snow covered mountains surrounding the castle. 

“I feel as if I’m seeing it for the first time.” The man muttered, breathy. The soft breeze tousled his bangs charmingly. He turned his head, aiming his gaze down at Izuku. “Is there anymore?”

Izuku blinked and then grinned, figuring the man was referring to the book in his hands. He nodded and turned his attention back to the page.

“ But in that solemn silence is heard the whisper of every sleeping thing. Look. Look at me. Come wake me up. For still here I’ll be. ” He finished softly, looking up at Shoto to find the man’s eyes already on him.

They stared at each other for a fleeting moment before the embarrassment caught up to Izuku and forced him to quickly look away, his cheeks flushing with heat.

Strange.

The following day, the two went on another stroll outside of the castle. Izuku decided to bring out Hana from the stables, petting her snout upon seeing her. Shoto stood behind him, watching from a distance. Izuku beckoned him over with a tilt of his head and a smile.

“You can pet her, if you’d like.” He offered, holding out one of his hands in front of Shoto, smiling encouragingly.

“I don’t think I should.” The man shook his head, appearing… nervous. 

Izuku huffed and grabbed Shoto’s hand, tugging him forward until he was at arms length with the horse.

The man gasped softly, his grey eye blinking rapidly. “I-Izuku— it’s not a good idea.” He stuttered, though made no attempt to pull his hand out of Izuku’s.

“Just be gentle. It’s fine.” He smiled, leading Shoto’s hand to Hana’s coat, placing his palm flat against her side, Izuku’s hand resting on top of his.

Shoto exhaled shakily, looking back and forth between Izuku and the horse, still so unsure.

Izuku grinned and nodded firmly, stepping away from them and walking up the front stairs of the castle, keeping his eyes on Shoto and Shoto only, watching as the man continued to pet Hana with so much care glowing on the right side of his face.

Izuku shook his head in slight disbelief at the scene. Was it wrong of him to think Shoto was just a tad bit— adorable? Under his mean, unrefined exterior there really was just an unsure shell of a man.

 Izuku wondered why he hadn’t noticed it before.

Shoto wasn’t full of himself. He hardly ever thought of himself as good looking ever— but he could have sworn he saw Izuku glance his way a few times during dinner. It was incredibly distracting. Every time Shoto thought he caught him staring, his heart skipped multiple beats in his chest.

It was probably nothing. He would just ignore it. 

But then again… Izuku’s never looked at him that way before. 

Standing in front of a window, determined to clean the dirt and mildew off of it so that the sun would actually shine through, Izuku caught sight of Shoto walking Hana by her harness out in the snow. It immediately brought a smile to his face.

His heart raced in his chest. 

This feeling was… new. Not to mention a bit alarming. Though, whatever it was, Izuku found that… he didn’t exactly mind it.

While it was true that Shoto was no Prince Charming, but there was definitely something inside him that Izuku hadn’t seen before.

Something kind, and gentle.

Gods, Shoto was bending every which way just to impress Izuku. Not that he was complaining— he quite enjoyed whenever Izuku praised him. Shoto came to learn that he’d do just about anything to keep a smile always plastered on the boy’s face.

Helping him pick books from the library always seemed to keep him happy. Izuku would stand on a ladder while Shoto waited diligently behind him, holding out his hands for the books Izuku would pick out from the shelves.

He was always excited to be there, no matter how many times he’s stepped foot into the room before.

It was incredibly endearing. 

Aoyama shot him a wink from the desk sitting in the library, and Shoto heaved a sigh.

It all depended on him. Everything rode on his shoulders.

“Do any of you know where Shoto ran off to?” Izuku asked the group of appliances who were all sitting around a deck of cards.

“Oh? Any specific reason you’re looking for the master?” Uraraka giggled, teasing lightly. Izuku’s cheeks flared, regardless.

Aoyama tutted. “Ignore her, beau. Master is sitting outside. He warned us not to bother him, but I doubt he’d mind if it was you who visited him.” The candle winked.

Izuku thanked them with a final wave and threw on his coat before stepping out into the snow. The sun was shining just a bit, making the air a little warmer.

He found Shoto sitting on a stone bench, under a bare tree, engrossed in a book Izuku recognized instantly. The man was so focused on his book, he hadn’t even realized Izuku had sat beside him on the bench until he spoke over the serene silence.

“What are you reading?” Izuku asked, smug.

Shoto flinched, sitting up rim-rod straight and snapped the book closed. “Nothing.”

“ King Aurther and the Round Table. ” He smirked.

Shoto huffed. “Knights and men and swords and things.” He muttered, brushing his fingers over the cover of the book.

Izuku chuckled. “Still… it’s a romance.”

“Oh, whatever.” The man scoffed, though a hint of a smile played at the corner of his lips that weren’t covered in razor sharp stone.

Izuku hummed, glancing down at the snowy ground, swinging his feet back and forth on the bench. 

“I… never thanked you. For saving my life, I mean.” He muttered, his eyes remained glued to his boots scuffing at the floor.

“Well… I never thanked you for not leaving me to be eaten by wolves.” Izuku glanced up, an incredulous smile gradually growing on his face. Shoto shrugged. “I’d say we’re even.”

Izuku laughed, shaking his head fondly. 

Shouts of glee and laughter came echoing from the castle. They both turned simultaneously at the noise, figuring what it was instantly.

“They know how to have a good time.” Izuku giggled.

Shoto hummed. “Yes. But whenever I enter the room, laughter completely dies.”

He nodded. “Me too.”

Shoto glanced at him, a frown of confusion marring his handsome face.

Izuku elaborated, “The villagers call me strange because I’m a boy who chooses to get an education rather than go to war.”

The man scoffed. “That’s awful. I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “Your village sounds terrible.”

Izuku snorted. “Almost as lonely as your castle.”

Shoto hummed in thought. “What do you say we run away?”

Izuku blinked. “W-We what?”

“Follow me.” The man said, suddenly grabbing onto Izuku’s hand and pulling him up from the bench.

“Sh-Shoto?” He spluttered.

The man turned over his shoulder, shooting Izuku a soft smile. “Trust me.” His hand squeezed around Izuku’s, comforting him.

Izuku inhaled sharply, his cheeks growing hot.

He had no other choice but to comply. He trusted Shoto, wholly.

Shoto brought them to his room and dug around his bookshelf until he let out of a soft exclamation, pulling out a large book decorated with gold on its exterior.

“Another little gift from the enchantress.” He huffed as he unlatched the book and cracked it open, setting it out on his desk to a picture of a moving map.

Izuku gasped softly, watching as the pages glittered. “How amazing.”

“It was her cruelest trick of all.” Shoto sighed. “It was just another curse. The outside world has no place for a monster like me, but it can for you, Izuku.” He smiled gently, reaching for Izuku’s hand again and placing it on the page of the book.

“Think of the one place you’ve always wanted to see.” Shoto whispered, laying his palm on the back of Izuku’s hand, covering it entirely. “Now find it in your mind's eye. And feel it in your heart.” 

The one place Izuku wanted to see. The answer was automatic. He shut his eyes for a moment, until the dim light of the library no longer shone behind him.

Izuku cracked his eyes open, taking in the sight of his childhood home. Tears built up in his eyes almost instantly.

“Where did you take us?” Shoto asked, walking up to a single window, completely unaware of Izuku’s turmoil.

“My old village.” He answered softly, surveying the entire cottage. “It’s so much smaller than I imagined it would be.”

Izuku slowly walked up to a lone rose sitting on a desk next to rough sketches of a baby with a head of curly hair and freckles. He plucked the rose from where it lay, bringing it up to his nose and shutting his eyes.

“Mama,” He whispered, clutching the flower to his chest.

Shoto stood in front of him, concern scrawled on his face. “What happened to your mother?” He asked, bringing up his right hand and wiping underneath Izuku’s eyes with a knuckle.

“It was the one story Papa could never bring himself to tell. I knew better than to ask.” He sniffled.

Shoto backed away, his grey eye surveying the room until it landed in a corner. “It’s… a doctor’s mask.” He muttered, walking towards the corner and picking up the mask, holding it in his hands. 

Izuku swallowed thickly. Shoto frowned sadly.

“Plague.” He whispered.

Izuku hiccuped, turning away from the man as the tears he desperately tried to hold in streamed down his cheeks at a rapid pace.

“I’m… I’m sorry I ever called your father a thief.” Shoto apologized from behind him.

Izuku shook his head with a sniffle.

“Let’s go home.” He whispered thickly, still clutching tightly onto the rose.

It was then that Izuku realized how much he longed to see Papa again. Even for a moment.

Shoto huffed as he sat in his tub, violently scrubbing away at his hair and the right side of his body.

“Well, I saw him in the ballroom and said you’re making everything look so beautiful we should have a dance tonight. I never imagined he’d actually say yes. What was I thinking?” He groaned, his bangs laying flat against his eyes as Yaoyorozu rinsed the soap out of his hair with warm water.

“No, Master. It’s perfect!” He heard Aoyama shout from the other side of the curtain. “The rose has only four petals left which means tonight you can tell him how you feel.”

Shoto stood from the bath abruptly, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his waist quickly. 

“I feel like a fool.” He frowned. “He will never love me.” 

Aoyama tutted. “Do not be discouraged, Master!” He exclaimed, following Shoto towards his old vanity. “He is the one.”

Shoto groaned, falling backwards into his chair, glaring at himself through the mirror. “I wish you’d stop saying that. There is no one. ”

Aoyama climbed onto Shoto’s shoulder. “You care for him, don’t you?” He doesn’t wait for Shoto to answer. “Well, then, woo him with beautiful music and romantic candlelight.” 

Uraraka floated past him, hovering in front of the mirror. “And when the moment’s just right…” She trailed off with a giggle, insinuating something with a playful wink.

“Well, how will I know?” He huffed, looking around the group of living inanimate objects.

“You will feel slightly nauseous.” Iida said, earning him a smack on the head from Aoyama.

“Don’t worry, Master. You’ll do great.” The candle reassured.

Yaoyorozu spoke up from her tea table. “Just stop being so nervous and tell Izuku how you feel. Because if you don’t I promise you’ll be drinking cold tea for the rest of your days!” The teapot hissed, squealing with heat from her spout.

“In the dark.” Aoyama added. 

“Covered in dust.” Uraraka nodded.

“Dark and very, very dusty.” 

Shoto frowned with a roll of his eyes. 

“All right. I get it. Win him over.”

Aoyama hummed, patting his left cheek with a candle. “Excellent, Master. Excellent.”

Izuku was more than just a little nervous. He was… nauseous with anxiety. Gods, he didn’t want to mess anything up, especially since Shoto was the one who had invited him to a dance. It had been years since Izuku last danced with anyone, he desperately hoped it wouldn’t show.

Ashido, keeping her promise to him, dressed him in an outfit that had surely belonged to a prince before he wore it. 

It was simple, Izuku was grateful for that, a simple off-white undershirt, and a soft green vest buttoned over it, the collar of his undershirt popped up ridiculously. As for his bottoms, a simple pair of dark blue jeans that looked far too expensive for him to be wearing. Overall, it wasn’t overly stuffy, which he was eternally thankful for.

Shoto, on the other hand, standing across from Izuku on the staircase, stood proudly in a gorgeous dark blue buttoned up vest that trailed down to the backs of his knees, placed immaculately over a poet undershirt. His bottoms were simple, just as Izuku’s were, egg-shell white trousers and black boots lined with gold on the rims.

He was… stunning. Absolutely stunning. He looked like a prince.

Izuku shot him a shaky smile as they both began descending the stairs simultaneously. They met in the middle, and upon closer inspection, Izuku noticed a faint redness in Shoto’s right cheek. Though, he might’ve been imagining it from the dim lighting of the room.

Shoto offered his hand palm up, and Izuku took it right away, placing his softly onto the other’s. His right hand was always so cold. Izuku had half the mind to realize it was because of his magic. He held on a little tighter as Shoto led them into the beautifully decorated ballroom.

Izuku gaped at the gorgeous chandelier hanging right above them, not having noticed it before in the dark. The room held a golden hue, making everything around them illuminate prettily.

The soft sound of piano music started up, startling Izuku out of his staring, forcing his attention back onto Shoto who was already looking at him with a soft smirk on half of his face.

Izuku flushed under the attention, and bowed his head, following dance protocol, praying he remembered it correctly from when his father taught him all those years ago. 

Shoto bowed deeply at the waist, rising slowly and holding his hands out in front of him, aiming a smile in Izuku’s direction.

He returned the smile without much grace and placed both of his hands into Shoto’s, squeezing them tightly.

The man pulled him in closer, making Izuku almost stumble into his chest before he found his footing again, fixing his posture with a nervous chuckle.

“Have you ever danced with someone before, Izuku?” Shoto asked over the music as he began leading the both of them around the ballroom gracefully.

Izuku gulped thickly under the attention. “Y-Years ago, with my father. He taught me how to dance, but it’s been so long since I’ve had a partner.”

Shoto smiled, and twirled him around before pulling him closely to his body and dipping him backwards, his hand resting on the small of Izuku’s back, their faces mere inches apart. Izuku gasped breathlessly.

The man lifted them back upright, his stone hand resting politely on Izuku’s back while the other held his empty hand. Izuku’s arm rested against Shoto’s shoulder, their chests nearly touching as Shoto began maneuvering them gracefully around the ballroom once again.

“You dance like a professional.” The man complimented, brushing his thumb against his knuckles. Izuku’s cheeks reddened.

“P-Please, you don’t have to flatter me.” He chuckled sheepishly, half realizing their dance would be coming to an end soon.

“It’s not flattery.” Shoto argued gently, pulling away from Izuku entirely until he stood at arms length with him, holding his hand in his. Izuku watched with wide, blinking eyes as Shoto bent forward at the waist and pressed a kiss with hardly any pressure onto his knuckles. Izuku’s breath hitched at the feeling of cold stone and warm skin on his. “I speak only truths.”

Izuku chuckled weakly, his heart racing so quickly in his chest he was afraid it might burst. 

Shoto dropped his hand gently, and bent his right elbow, looking into Izuku’s eyes with a hopeful glint in his own grey one.

He couldn’t refuse him. Izuku didn’t want to.

“I haven’t danced in years. I’d almost forgotten the feeling.” Shoto spoke as he led them out into the terrace. Izuku smiled softly beside him, keeping his gorgeous viridian eyes on the snowy mountains.

Shoto cleared his throat anxiously. The moment seemed just right as Uraraka had put it earlier. And his stomach did feel a bit queasy. He sighed wearily as his heart picked up speed in his chest. 

Now or never. If not for him… then for the other’s.

“It’s foolish, I suppose.” He started, keeping his eyes forward so as to not lose his nerve. “For a monster like me to ever hope that one day he might earn the affection of someone as amazing as you.”

Izuku turned to him, and Shoto watched him from his peripheral vision, completely buzzing with nerves.

“I-I don’t know…” The boy trailed off. Shoto’s eyes widened in surprise as he whipped his head to face Izuku. 

“R-Really? You think you could be happy here?” He asked, turning the rest of his body.

Izuku hesitated for a moment, and Shoto’s heart sank to the pit of his stomach. He should have known.

“Can anybody be happy if they aren’t free?” The boy whispered, rhetorical.

Shoto nodded softly in understanding, desperately concealing the heartache he was experiencing on the inside. Gods, it felt like his heart had been torn in two. He supposed he deserved it. He deserved all of it.

“When my father was teaching me to dance, I used to step on his toes a lot.” Izuku noted softly, looking back out into the mountains.

Shoto huffed a smile at the imagery of a young Izuku waltzing around his cottage with his father.

“You must miss him.” He said softly.

Izuku hummed weakly. “Very much.”

Shoto frowned at his sorrowful tone. All he really wanted was Izuku’s happiness. For Izuku to be happy, wherever that may be, with whomever that may be with. As long as Izuku had a smile on his face, the sun would always shine, he felt.

Gods, Shoto adored him. He’d do anything for him. He’d hang the moon if Izuku asked. He’d make the impossible possible for him.

An idea suddenly sprang to the front of his mind.

“Would you like to see him?”

Shoto held the enchanted mirror in his hands, carefully holding it out for Izuku to take in his own.

The boy took the mirror and held it with care, pointing it directly to his face. “I’d like to see my father.” 

Shoto looked away, deciding Izuku might’ve wanted privacy, until he heard a horrified gasp scratch its way out of the boy’s throat. The sight Shoto was met with was upsetting. Izuku was pale with fright as he stared down at the mirror with wide eyes, his lips trembling anxiously. Shoto wanted nothing more than to hold him.

“Papa! H-He’s in trouble.” Izuku stuttered, his chest heaving with panic. “Th-They’re hurting him.” 

Shoto gulped around the large lump forming in his throat. He’d do anything for him. Even giving up the chance at a normal life. Izuku’s happiness was far more important than his own.

“Then you must go to him.” He spoke, trying his absolute best to keep his voice firm.

“Wh-What?” Izuku gasped. 

Shoto turned to him quickly. “You must go to him. No time to waste.” He repeated.

Izuku’s chest continued to heave as trembling breaths pushed past his parted lips. He held the mirror towards Shoto, and immediately he shook his head, pushing it back into the boy’s chest.

“No, you keep it with you.” Shoto smiled painfully. “That way you’ll always have a way to look back on the castle.” On me, he doesn’t say.

Izuku’s eyes were filled with tears as he backed away slowly, nodding jerkily. “Thank you… Shoto.”

Shoto could do nothing but watch as Izuku ran towards the exit of his bedroom, not once turning back. The pain he felt was almost too much to bear.

Shoto dressed out of his formal clothing and threw on a loose robe as the rest of his friends barged into his room, looking for answers as to what happened, he supposed.

“Well, Master, I had my doubts, but everything is moving like clockwork. True love really does win the day.” Iida’s voice echoed from the door.

Shoto cringed. True love . It never existed. Not for someone like him. 

“I let him go.” He muttered, loud enough that he knew the others would hear as well.

“You what ?” Iida snapped.

“Master, how could you do that?” Aoyama griped, betrayal clear in his voice.

Shoto shrugged from his bed. “I had to.”

“But why ?” Iida groaned.

“Because he loves him.” Yaoyorozu’s voice spoke, voicing his exact thoughts. 

“Then why are we not human?” Aoyama questioned, disappointed.

“Because he doesn’t love him back. And now, it’s too late.” Shinso huffed.

Shoto’s heart ached painfully in his chest. It was excruciating, hearing those words. Like a searing knife to the heart. It was the truth. Izuku would have never loved him. No matter the circumstance. Shoto was unloveable.

“But he might still come back.” Uraraka tried.

Shoto shook his head. “No. I set him free.” He gulped thickly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do the same for all of you. Now, go. Our time is almost up.”

He dismissed them with a hand, keeping his eyes trained on the floor of his room until he was sure they had gone. He couldn’t bear to look them in the eyes after what he had done. Sealed their fate by setting Izuku free.

Even then, he didn’t regret his decision.

For all the years he’d waste away in his castle, no matter how long it took, as the lonely nights commenced, he’d wait forever to see Izuku again.

He’d think of all that could have been had he’d been deemed worthy to accept the love of someone as kind as Izuku. 

Shoto wasn’t going anywhere. He’d be waiting in his castle forever. And he had no one to blame but himself.

Izuku could hear the faint murmuring of the villagers in the town as he rode in on Hana, running straight for the commotion.

“Stop!” He yelled, pulling at the steed’s harness to keep her from moving any further. Izuku quickly dismounted the horse and ran straight for the wagon he watched the villagers shove his father in from the mirror. 

“Papa!” Izuku smiled in relief, though it was short lived.

“Oh, Izuku. I thought I’d lost you.” Papa sighed, reaching for Izuku’s hands through the steel bars.

Izuku turned to the officer standing beside the wagon. “Let him out! Please, he’s hurt!”

The man shook his head, ignoring his pleas. “We can’t do that, sir. But we’ll take very good care of him.”

Izuku gritted his teeth in anger. “My father’s not crazy!” He insisted, turning to look into the crowd for anyone that might help him. His eyes landed on a familiar pair of fiery red ones, and for the first time in his life, Izuku was relieved to see the insistent man.

“Kacchan, tell him!” He cried, stepping forward.

The man sighed. “You know how loyal I am to your family, but your father’s been making some outrageous claims.”

Yamada stepped up from the crowd. “It’s true, Izuku. He’s been raving about a monster in a castle .”

Izuku shook his head, frustrated. “I’ve just come from the castle and there is a monster!”

Kacchan scoffed, and Izuku’s heart sank to his stomach. “You’d say anything to see him free. Your word is hardly proof.”

Izuku was on the verge of seething. “You want proof?!” He yelled, bringing the mirror in his hands up to his face. “Show me Shoto!”

The mirror's face swirled until a clear picture of Shoto’s face appeared. Izuku turned the object in his hand, showing it to the villagers who gasped and exclaimed in horror.

“There’s your proof.” Izuku spat above their murmuring.

Kacchan snatched the mirror from his hands, holding it closely to his face. “This is witchcraft.” He spat with disgust, staring into the mirror with fire dancing in his eyes. “Look at this monster! Look at it’s razor sharp teeth!” Kacchan growled, turning back to the crowd of villagers and taunting them with the image of Shoto.

Izuku shook his head quickly, stepping forward again. “No. Don’t be afraid. He’s gentle and kind.”

Kacchan slowly turned back around to face him, a sneer marring his face. “The monster has him under his spell. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he even cared for him!” The man scoffed loudly.

Izuku clenched his hands into fists. “He’s not a monster, Kacchan. You are!” He spat, turning back to the villagers in hopes he could convince them. “Shoto wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

“I’ve heard of the effects of black magic, but I’ve never before seen it with my own eyes!” Kacchan yelled. He held up the mirror. “This is a threat to our very existence!” To Izuku’s horror, the villagers exclaimed with agreement. “We can’t have this idiot running off to warn the monster.” Kacchan growled, walking up to Izuku and hauling him off the ground by the collar of his undershirt.

“Lock him up too.” He spat, shoving Izuku backwards against the wagon.

“N-No!” He gasped, struggling in the grasp of the two officers standing on either side of the wagon. “Let m-me go!”

“Izuku!” Papa cried, pulling him backwards into his chest, tucking his head underneath his chin.

Izuku trembled in his father’s grasp, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He’d sent the village to kill Shoto. 

Shoto would die, and it was all his doing.

“I have to warn Shoto.” Izuku spoke once he was sure the entire village had left towards the castle on their horses.

“Warn him? How did you get away from him?” Papa asked, disbelief coating his words.

Izuku crouched down to his level, and grabbed his hands, squeezing them tightly. “He let me go, Papa. He sent me back to you.”

Papa shook his head. “I-I don’t understand.” 

Izuku sighed, and pulled from the pocket of his trousers the rose he had taken from his childhood home. Papa gasped wordlessly.

“He took me there.” He whispered, holding the rose in between the two of them, smiling sorrowfully. “I know what happened to Mama.”

Papa sighed, staring into Izuku’s eyes. “Then you know why I had to leave her there. I had to protect you. I’ve always tried to protect you, my boy. It was your mother’s last dying wish.”

Izuku nodded solemnly. “I understand.” He whispered, holding tightly onto Papa’s hands. “Will you help me now? Please?”

Papa clicked his teeth. “It’s dangerous, Izuku.”

“Yes.” He nodded. “Yes, it is.”

The middle aged man huffed a laugh. “You will be the death of me, my boy.”

Shoto sat on the edge of the terrace, looking out on the castle's front lawn as the invaders Shinso had warned him about went running back to where they came from on their horses.

His ears picked up on the sound of a gun’s ammunition clicking, the noise coming from behind him.

“Hello, monster .” The voice of a man spat. Shoto sighed, and looked over his shoulder, peering directly into furious red eyes that belonged to a hulking man with spiky, blond hair, aiming a gun right at his back. “I’m Katsuki. Izuku sent me.”

Shoto blinked, and gave no reaction. He could feel nothing. He turned his gaze back to the castle’s lawn.

“Are you in love with him?” Katsuki taunted after a moment. “Did you honestly think he’d want you ?” 

A gunshot goes off, and a hot, searing bullet pierced Shoto’s right shoulder. He cried out in shock and pain as he stumbled off the terrace, falling bodily onto the roof of one of the many towers his castle owned.

Despite his abrupt end, Shoto wouldn’t die with regrets. For he had told Izuku how he felt. He’d let him go. 

That was all he could ever ask for.

Izuku followed the sound of a gunshot all the way to Shoto’s bedroom, praying that he wasn’t too late, hoping Shoto was okay.

Barging into the grand room, the first thing Izuku saw was Kacchan’s back profile, standing in front of the terrace, looking down at something with interest.

Izuku stalked up to him angrily, and grabbed his shoulder, yanking his attention onto him. “Where is he?!” He snapped, gritting his teeth. 

“Deku.” Kacchan smirked, shoving him backwards roughly. Izuku lost his footing for a moment, unused to the man being so violent. “When we get back to the village, you will marry me. And that monster's head will hang on our wall.”

Izuku growled. “Never! I’d rather die!” Grabbing for Kacchan’s gun. The man grunted, roughly pushing Izuku backwards into a wall, knocking the gun out of both their hands, sending it skidding across the terrace floor.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Deku?!” Kacchan bellowed, pinning Izuku to the wall with his forearm pressed against his neck. He was absolutely livid.

Izuku’s lungs burned from the lack of oxygen, he clawed at the man’s arm as reflexive tears sprung to his eyes. 

“If I have to kill you too, I won’t hesitate.” Kacchan spat, suddenly releasing his hold on Izuku’s neck.

He fell to the floor in a heap of limbs, black spots filling his vision as he desperately inhaled air into his lungs.

Izuku’s vision came and went for a few minutes, only being able to focus on two figures arguing furiously on the edge of the terrace.

His mind immediately went to Shoto. Where was he?

“Izuku!” A voice — sickeningly familiar — called, crouched in front of him. A pair of hands held his shoulders firmly, jostling his body until his eyes cracked open. “I-Izuku…” The same voice whispered, the hands moved to cup his cheeks.

Cold skin on the right, stone on the left.

“Sh-Shoto!” He gasped, leaning his body forward and wrapping his arms around the man’s neck, burying his face in the crook of his neck.

“Izuku,” He whispered, petting his hair with his right hand. “You came back.”

Izuku choked on a relieved sob. “I tried to st-stop them.”

Lips pressed against the side of his head. “It’s all right now. Everything’s going to be fi—!”

A loud gunshot rang through Izuku’s ears, and it only took one horrifying second to realize what had been done. 

Shoto slumped forward, and Izuku’s entire world crumbled before him.

“ No ,” He whispered, lifting Shoto’s head from his shoulder. “ P-Please, no. ” 

“Huh,” Kacchan laughed. “That was fun. The bastard’s finally dead, and now there’s nobody who will stand in my way.” A hand shot out and roughly grabbed onto Izuku’s forearm, pulling him mercilessly up from the floor and away from Shoto’s still body.

Izuku trembled in Kacchan’s grasp, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. The same hand gripped harshly underneath his chin, forcing him to look out into snowy mountains. He’d never been more terrified of the man before. 

“Perhaps we should relocate here when we get married. So you can always be reminded of the guy who came in second place.” Kacchan laughed cruelly.

Izuku sobbed into the bitter cold night, longing for the moments he spent with Shoto. 

Longing for Shoto.

“Oh, you’ve got to be joking!” Kacchan snapped, shoving Izuku to the floor as he walked back towards the body near the entrance. “Why don’t you just die already?!”

Izuku’s head snapped up, chest heaving, face stinging as his eyes landed on Shoto’s body, standing.

He was standing. 

“ Sh-Shoto ,” He whispered, relief flooding his system so quickly he felt faint.

“Izuku will never marry you.” He heard him spit, Izuku glanced up, and through his tears, he saw a ball of ice building up in Shoto’s right palm. Kacchan backed away from him with a terrified look on his face. “I’ll make sure of that.” He hissed, before aiming the ball of ice at Kacchan’s chest and knocking him backwards, sending him toppling over the edge of the terrace and straight for the floor of the castle with a blood curdling yell.

Izuku’s breathing was labored as he stood up on shaky legs, rushing over to where Shoto still stood, trembling with fatigue.

“Sh-Shoto— can you hear me?” Izuku warbled, cupping man’s cheeks with his hands, and leaning their foreheads together.

“Izuku,” Shoto whispered weakly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You came back.” The man stumbled on his feet, leaning back against the wall and sliding down until he reached the floor, his chest heaving. 

Izuku sniffled pathetically. “O-Of course I came back.” He whispered, caressing the man’s cheek gently. “I’ll never leave you again.”

Shoto groaned, hacking a cough. “I’m afraid it’s my turn to leave.”

Izuku shook his head, his tears going every which way. “No. W-We’re together now. Everything’s going to be fine— just like you said.”

Shoto smiled, strained as it was, it was still beautiful. 

“At least I got to see you one last t-time.” 

His breathing suddenly hitched, and Izuku sobbed, leaning his forehead on his chest, feeling the faint beat of his heart.

“ No, please no. ” He choked, fisting the fabric of his robe in his hands. 

“Please d-don’t leave me… I love you .” Izuku whispered into the man’s chest.

“ I love you, Shoto. ” 

Just as Izuku began to pull away from the man, deeming it useless to attempt to speak to him any longer, Shoto’s body began levitating off the ground, outlining his being with a golden hue, rose petals scattering all around him.

Izuku backed away quickly, watching as the stone on the left side of Shoto’s body cracked and dissolved, disappearing into thin air until there was nothing left but skin.

Shoto was gently let back down to the floor, his feet planting onto the ground as he examined the left side of his body with wonder.

Izuku gawked, not being able to help himself, and whispered, “ Sh-Shoto? ” 

The man suddenly turned, facing Izuku entirely, showing off the face of a handsome young man with porcelain skin on his right and a large scar on his left. Everything else was the same… the hair, the eye.

Was he really Shoto?

Izuku hesitantly crept up to the man, staring into his mismatched eyes as he got closer and closer until his entire vision was just red and white.

Izuku brought his hands up and cupped the man’s cheeks, caressing them with his thumbs. “Shoto?” He whispered, breathlessly.

The man gently wrapped his fingers around his wrist, and aimed an achingly familiar smile at him.

“Izuku.” 

That voice.

“Sh-Shoto!” Izuku gasped, throwing his arms around the man’s neck. “Y-You’re alive— h-how are you alive?!” He exclaimed, pulling away from him. “A-And you— the stone?! I-It’s gone!”

Shoto shot him a fond smile, tightening his grip around Izuku’s waist. “It’s because of you.” He whispered, leaning his forehead against Izuku’s. “It’s all because of you, Izuku.”

Even though he didn’t quite understand what exactly it was, Izuku laughed nonetheless, too happy to care.

He ducked forward and closed the gap between them clumsily, ending up knocking into Shoto’s bottom lip and chin instead of his entire mouth. 

The man chuckled into their kiss, pulling away softly. Izuku flushed in embarrassment. Way to ruin the moment, Izuku.

“You’re adorable, but please allow me.” Shoto whispered, tucking one of Izuku’s curls behind his ear, before leaning down and pressing a firm, slow kiss onto his lips.

Izuku sighed contentedly, shamelessly pressing against Shoto’s chest as the man’s arms held him by his hips and waist. 

Never in his life did Izuku feel more at home then when he was in Shoto’s arms. 

Shoto was home. 

Shoto wasted no time getting Izuku to marry him. He proposed on New Year’s Day after six months of courting, and not even a month prior to their engagement did the wedding of the century take place right there in the castle. The curse had been lifted off of everyone, and it was the greatest pleasure of Izuku’s life to be able to reintroduce himself to all of the friends he had made in their human forms. 

Love was strange, Izuku thought, because when he looked at Shoto, he didn’t see a monster. Not before, and not now. Not ever. 

Izuku saw beauty. Always.

“We’re going to grow old together, how do you feel about that—? Izuku…? Are you all right?” Shoto asked, suddenly crouched down in front of his knees.

Izuku sniffled, and wiped his eyes, nodding rapidly. “I’m perfect.” He whispered, leaning down to meet Shoto for a languid kiss. He finally learned how to kiss properly. His husband had been thrilled to teach him. “Just happy.” He said as they broke apart.

Shoto snorted. “You cry when you’re happy?”

Izuku huffed. “I cry for everything . This is the man you married, take it or leave it, Shoto.”

The man stood from his crouched position with a roll of his eyes. “I never said it was a bad thing. I love everything about you, Izuku. Everything .” Shoto muttered into his ear, placing a kiss onto his cheek before waltzing away back to his closet.

Izuku smiled fondly, falling backwards onto their newly shared bed as his heart pounded against his ribcage.

He loved him. Izuku loved Shoto so much. 

And he could not wait to spend the rest of his life with him, for that would surely be an adventure waiting to happen.