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Chapter Text

Izuku heard the cheers, the cries from his cosmic abode and was confused. It was customary of humans to celebrate him, and throw festivals praising him, much to his embarrassment, but these shouts were different. These shouts screamed of bloodthirst.

Everyone knew the tale of Midoriya Izuku, the story of rags to divinity. How the poor young beggar boy, scarce fifteen years old, gave a withered old man some bread and a cot in his hut of sticks and misery. How the scorned young beggar boy had always considered the stars to be friends, how he had been swathed in a haze of dreams and kindness since the day he was born. How the devastatingly kind young beggar boy with a bleeding heart took care of the sickly old man on his doorstep.

Little did this beggar boy know that this old man was the legendary Toshinori Yagi, the People’s God, the Ruler of the Cosmos, the Father of Stars. A god who had been coincidentally searching the universes for a successor, someone to take over his throne in the skies before his power faded to nothing but stardust.

Everyone knew the story of the kind young boy being given the gift of the stars and becoming the kindest, most merciful god in history, showing nothing but the utmost care and gentleness to his worshippers.

No one ever forgot the day the God of Mercy reminded humans of the power of his ire.

Izuku travelled down to his altar in King Enji’s kingdom, a monstrosity of marble and gold. He slipped into his earthly form, a plain-looking human with dark hair and eyes, and weaved his way into the crowd outside.

“Kill him in the name of Mercy!”

“Slay him for the blessing of the gods!”

Izuku’s eyes were wide with the implications, as he quickly made his way to the front, just in time to see an axe, emblazoned with his mark of the stars, fall.

King Enji looked upon the chaos, seeing nothing but red cast in the dark gloom of failure. He had given Shouto everything, the best education, the training befitting a king-for nothing, it seemed. The bloody boy had persisted in making everything difficult, engaging in idiotic ideas of helping the poor and clothing the needy. This infernal menace had no clue how the hierarchy functioned, Enji despaired, no idea how the people needed a hard hand to guide them, not a gentle caress over their weaknesses.

But Shouto still disobeyed. No matter how harshly Enji disciplined him, no matter how many locks blocked Shouto’s door, the blasted boy managed to get out. When Enji was just about ready to tear his hair out in anger over his spoiled and unpredictable masterpiece, hope reached out to him in the form of a sagging husk of a woman.

A woman claiming to be ‘The Ancient Oracle of the North’ had burst into his throne room in a panic, spouting incoherent nonsense about how a devastating illness was going to rip through the kingdom, how everyone was in grave danger and that the only way to stop this from happening was to sacrifice someone to appeal to the gods.

At first Enji was going to let her become the sacrifice she so desperately wanted but then an idea came to him. He was still experiencing the last of his prime years, and he was a healthy man. Shouto needn’t be his last hope for an heir, he could still sire another potential successor. He smiled slowly, baring his teeth. “I know just the person we need.”

“Are you sure Prince Shouto should be the sacrifice, my liege?” One of the ministers asked. “Couldn’t we select a peasant, perhaps-”

“No,” King Enji thundered. “I couldn’t ask for my subjects’ loyalty if I cannot show them mercy. I will give up my son in the name of my people.”

If Shouto heard another person praising his father for having such consideration for his people, he was going to scream. Most people either respected King Enji or feared him. This is mostly due to the fact that Enji is one of the children of the God of War, and what a filial son he was. King Enji practically leaped at any opportunity to start another war, feud or conquering. People called him The Conqueror to his face, and The Bastard of War to his back. Shouto couldn’t understand how everyone could look past the fact that this asshole was literally sacrificing his own son.

To the God of Mercy, no less. The ascended Ruler of the Cosmos was the epitome of care and gentleness, he was the only god Shouto truly respected, whose stories from which he drew hope. The prince could not believe that his father would go as far as to destroy his soul with this final act. Wait, never mind, Shouto could definitely believe it.

The royal executioner readied his grip on his axe, glancing at Shouto with an apology in his eyes. He carefully brushed over his face with whitewash, making his face nothing but a blank canvas as he gripped his manacles tightly. His father may have destroyed his soul but like hell Shouto would let him destroy his pride too.

Shouto swallowed his indignation as his head was pushed onto the block, squeezing his eyes shut at the whistle of the falling axe.

Shouto cracked his eye open as the anticipated deadly blow never came.

A single finger stopped the arc of the axe, crimson blooming out of the flesh. Shouto raised his head and met the viridian gaze of his saviour, not reacting to the collective gasp of the audience.

“How dare you interrupt royal proceedings!” King Enji bellowed, pushing himself out of his throne with a giant heave. He started to make his way to Shouto and the stranger, eyes cold with rage.

The stranger upended the axe from the shocked executioner’s hands with a careless flick, matching King Enji’s fury with his own. King Enji stopped short as the stranger began to grow, frozen with wonder. The crowd gathered stood still with shock as Shouto’s eyes widened further.

The stranger’s rags vanished, and were replaced with robes fashioned from space and light. His sturdy arms were exposed, together with his scars. The audience gasped in horror as those scars were revealed, the roped flaws so connected with the God of Mercy and the stories of his body breaking under the pressure of starlight. A long, graceful neck emerged from the robes, covered with chains of silver and rose gold, supporting a soft jaw and rounded cheeks dotted with constellations.

Two eyes made of hardened sea glass burned with displeasure as the Ruler of the Cosmos himself waved a hand and freed Shouto from his restraints. Shouto stood on shaky legs, gazing at his saviour with awe. “How dare I?” The God of Mercy looked at King Enji with thinly-veiled sorrow, as he walked towards him, dwarfing the king with his ten-foot stature.

“How dare you, King Enji, sacrifice a human life in my name?” The king flinched, barely stopping himself from taking a step back in the face of Midoriya Izuku and his voice. Many gods lashed out in their anger, caused destruction and rained curses as a result of their wrath. Midoriya Izuku did no such thing. Instead, he cried, tears welling up in his eyes and falling as diamonds, while his boyish voice cracked with heartbreak.

He stood tall and proud as his heart bled, crying for the boy who would have gotten murdered because of him, by his own family.

“How could you do this? Have you no heart?” The God beseeched, his anguish bringing tears into everyone’s eyes. King Enji stayed frozen in fear, tears falling down his face without his permission.

“I want everyone to be kind, to be gentle in my name, and you tarnish it, for the sake of resentment? You take away the light in the world for your own selfish goals? How could you?” Each sorrowful question wrenched at everyone’s hearts, pulling on heartstrings with an iron grip. Shouto’s cheeks were wet in the face of the God’s distress, hands frozen at his sides.

“You have insulted me, wounded me, bled me in the name of your ambition.” Midoriya intoned, scars glowing. The diamonds that fell from his eyes were sharp. “You failed your son, failed your people, failed the gods in the name of your greed, your dishonour!” He cried, summoning the stars in his palm, eager to act. “And for this, for abusing your power, for bringing shame to the gods, I banish you to Shokan, where you will spend eternity learning the way of Mercy.”

King Enji vanished in a fit of sparks, screaming and kicking. Midoriya lowered his hands, sighing with woe. He hoped, with all his heart, that this man could find redemption. He turned to face the people that he feared he had been neglecting. The ground was littered with pure diamonds, twinkling on the ground like stars in a tawny sky. He gathered the results of his heartache in a cloth bag and went to hand it to a shocked-looking Prince Shouto, smiling his beautiful smile, a smile that was rumoured to be the catalyst to spring.

“My Prince, please accept my apology.” Midoriya pleaded, pushing the bag into Shouto’s fists.

That seemed to shock the prince out of his trance to gaze at Midoriya with incredulity. “Whatever do you have to be sorry for my Lord? You saved me,” he said quietly, voice laced with gratitude. “You saved us.”

His people were looking on the scene with guilty eyes, having minutes before vouched for the prince’s death. Many of them fell to their knees, begging Midoriya for the mercy he was known for showing the mere mortals of the earth. Midoriya forgave them with grace and starlight, absolutely shining with joy. He started crying once more, this time tears falling as smooth pearls.

He clasped Shouto’s tiny hands in his giant ones, eyes glazed with tears and shining bright. “You are welcome to call to me anytime, my Prince. I can sense the goodness in your heart.”

Prince Shouto lay in his bedchamber, running a pearl across his lips. He looked out of his window at the stars outside, thinking of sparkling eyes and bleeding hearts, and the promise of spring.

Chapter Text

The crisp chill of the wind was biting against his cheek, but he paid it no mind. Shouto wanted to see the stars, unblemished by the mortal screen of glass. He sat in front of his vanity and sighed at his reflection, running his fingertips over his ruined cheek. Shouto had never thought of himself as vain before, he had been indifferent to his appearance really. He never really cared about how he looked, until-

His cheeks pinked slightly in the mirror and he hid his face in his hands in embarrassment as he recalled the first day of spring.

“You will catch a chill, my Liege,” Midoriya Izuku said with concern, stepping down from the altar of his temple. He was only five feet tall at this time, no tyrannical kings there to encourage a growth spurt at that current moment. He was no less intimidating with his chosen appearance, those forest green eyes sharp with intelligence and thick forearms exposed by his rolled up sleeves.

“Pray do not trouble yourself with my comfort my Lord,” Shouto said earnestly, resisting the urge to shiver. “I merely called to you to express my utmost thanks for your kindness towards my subjects. The cold has been quite unpredictable as of late and although the Council and I have been doing our best to help, your mercy has saved my subjects from starving and dying in the cold. I could not be more grateful-” Shouto was cut off by Midoriya placing his finger on his lips, the scarred one from the time he had saved Shouto’s life.

“Pray do not trouble yourself with thanks, Prince Shouto,” Midoriya crooned, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I made a commitment to you, didn’t I? Mercy does not deserve thanks, my Prince, it is simply given with no expectations of reward.” The God removed his finger, much to Shouto’s disappointment and smiled graciously. “Besides, being offered a chance to catch a glimpse of your beautiful face has more than compensated me for my efforts.”

Shouto’s face was going to explode, he was so red. “M-my Lord, I’m hardly b-beautiful-”

Midoriya went on as if Shouto hadn’t said anything, speaking as though in a dream.

“My Prince’s beauty is so unparalleled, I have heard praise for it from lands far, far away from my perch in the skies. And his heart is just as gorgeous as his face and oh, my Prince!” Midoriya clasped his hands, eyes like glittering gemstones. The God looked at him with reverence and awe, eyes welling with tears. “Never have I seen a more beautiful heart, Prince Shouto, nor a more lovely countenance.”

Shouto’s surroundings felt hazy and he couldn’t see anything but Midoriya. The constellations on his cheeks were jumping out of his skin, dots connecting and multiplying all over his face as though his body was nothing but space and sky, one with the stars. Shouto felt calm and sleepy, blinking with effort. Suddenly, Midoriya’s eyes became clear and he let go of Shouto with a cry, apologies spilling out of his mouth and diamonds spilling onto his cheeks.

“I am deeply sorry, Prince Shouto! I apologise, the dreaming becomes a lot for me sometimes and Toshinori says the whisperings of the stars are a lot to take in but I always get like this and sometimes it affects other people I’m so sorry it must have felt awful-”

“My Lord.” Shouto cut through Midoriya’s ramblings firmly.

Midoriya looked at him worriedly, the diamonds falling from his eyes becoming more and more pointed. “I am sorry, my Prince, your face is just so pretty I got pulled in by the stars without my knowledge! That always happens when I look at pretty things.”

Shouto blinked owlishly at the God, lips parted in surprise. His cheeks were aflame, the blush from his face slowly spreading to his neck.

Shouto screamed into his hands silently, cursing himself for being the utter lovesick fool that he is. What was he thinking, inviting the Ruler of the Cosmos to dinner? He had simply been so flustered, so unsure what to do in that situation. Midoriya seemed completely neutral when calling him beautiful (and gorgeous, and pretty) multiple times but thoroughly embarrassed at slipping into one of his trances, or ‘dreamings’ as many called them.

And now he was coming to dinner in two hours and Shouto was freaking out.

It had seemed worth it at the time to see pearls spill out of the God’s eyes instead and his heart-wrenching smile, but oh stars did Shouto feel regret now.

He stared at his reflection once more and with a resolve he did not believe in, got to work. He carefully patted his face with a soft cushion that he dipped into ivory powder, smoothening his skin slightly and evening out his scar. His handmaids had already braided his hair around his head like a low-lying crown, with daisies weaved in. He had dismissed them earlier, wanting to get himself ready with no one but his reflection judging him.

He gripped the thin paintbrush with deft fingers before skillfully painting a thin line of dark blue under his eyes, accentuating the blue in his stormy-sky eyes. He dipped a finger in some red paste and touched his lips with it, blushing as he was reminded of Midoriya’s finger shushing him from that day before. Well, he didn’t need any more colour in his cheeks, that’s for sure.

He picked up his dress from his bed, a pale yellow robe made of silk with a velvet collar. The robe was embroidered with daffodils and spring leaves, reminiscent of a certain God’s famous eyes. He slipped into it, sighing at the feel of the soft fabric on his skin and twirled, feeling silly and light.

He slipped in two pearls in his ears, earrings that he had requested to be made by the kingdom’s jeweller of the God of Mercy’s own tears.

He then put on a thin gold circlet that rested on his brow, the shiny metal flowers on it glinting in the candlelight.

Shouto gazed at his reflection once more-at the crimson-snow fall of his hair, the smoothness of his skin and the rough of his scar, at his two-toned eyes and pale teardrops in his ears-and wondered if Midoriya would consider him beautiful.

Chapter Text

“Come sit, my Lord.”

Midoriya smiled, and sat on the chair opposite to Shouto at the round table near the railings of the balcony. The bronze railings dripped with creepers and vines, flowers barely blooming in the night. 

Shouto had mulled over the table and its placement for a literal hour, oblivious to the fond looks of his servants. Was the table too intimate? But surely Midoriya would want to be able to see the stars? Was the view too distracting? Was the balcony too far from the kitchen? In the end he decided to keep everything the exact same way he had first arranged it.

On each side of the table lay a serving of a humble but hearty meal-beef heart stew with potatoes, soft rolls and salad with fresh raspberries. There was also spiced wine made of mulberries, sitting dark and red at the bottom of two gilded cups.

“I am not used to this arrangement, I’m afraid,” Shouto said sheepishly after stumbling a bit around the table. “I usually sit at the long table in the great hall with my staff.”

Midoriya grinned knowingly, freckles bunching up with his cheeks. “No surprise there, my Liege, your heart is good.”

“How do you know if my heart is good or not?”

Midoriya gazed wistfully at the stars and swirled his wine idly. “I have been given much power by Toshinori when I took over his throne in the skies,” he said.  “And one of the skills I have mastered with it is the ability to see the aura of someone’s heart. It has proved especially useful in my work. As you know,” he continued, turning to look Shouto in the eye, “not everyone deserves mercy. I cannot save everyone. King Enji,” Shouto flinched, “is a good example of that. His heart was poisonous, black with hate. However, I am a firm believer in redemption.”

“Anyone, if they try, can earn redemption.”

“You mean like Lord Bakugou?”

Midoriya smiled with a touch of sadness. “Yes, Kacchan stopped at nothing to redeem himself and earn my forgiveness. He actually went to Shokan to learn the way of Mercy, he was so determined. He always said that I forgave him too easily, but I decided that he deserved nothing less than forgiveness after the decades he spent improving himself and making up for his mistakes. I saw his heart, you know,” The God of Mercy sighed and looked up at the sky. “His heart is kind, it was just cast in cruelty and anger.”

Shouto didn’t want to talk about Lord Bakugou anymore.

“How is your cosmic abode, my Lord?”

“Oh my Prince, I should take you-“ Shouto choked- “with me up to the cosmos, above everything else. When you’re there, you tread the fine line between euphoria and fear-euphoric to see all the glitter, the shine, and the whisperings and dreams, but also dreading the possibility of the vast abyss swallowing you whole.”

His voice was electric and held such magnitude, but Shouto felt dreamy, like he was wading in molasses but at the same time being engulfed in feathery moss and light.

“I probably wouldn’t survive up there my lord,” Shouto drawled, unhurriedly slipping out of the haze like he was taking off a gossamer gown. Midoriya snapped out of his trance and smiled sheepishly. “My powers aren’t advanced enough yet,” he murmured, lips forming a pout. “My goal is to find a way to bring humans to the skies, to let them see all the beautiful things they are missing.”

Shouto barely stopped himself from swooning.

“Would you like to take a walk in our gardens? Our gardener is truly gifted at what she does, and the winter flowers are still abloom.”

They walked to the ornate gate of the garden and Shouto pushed it open, welcoming the cool air and fresh scents of dirt and growth. Midoriya smiled wide and lifted his face to the moon and the stars and his curly bangs fell away from his forehead, revealing his dark arched eyebrows. There seemed to be kohl lining his forest green eyes, stark against the pale skin under his eyes as he breathed in the night air.

Shouto held his breath as he watched the moonlight caress the god’s face, bringing the constellations to life. His eyes trailed down, taking in Midoriya’s strong arms, exposed by his sleeveless white tunic, and trim waist. He stopped himself before he could go any further, looking back up at the god’s face and flinched back as he saw Midoriya’s eyes staring right at him. 

Shouto’s cheeks were aflame, darkening at the mischievous glint in the god’s eye and he turned away, pouting slightly. Midoriya’s fingers gently caught his jaw and turned Shouto’s face his way, smiling his beautiful smile.

“You look lovely, my Liege, did I tell you that tonight?”

His hand trailed higher, the backs of his fingers stroking Shouto’s pink cheek. “Oh, your heart shines, my Prince, with your crown of flowers and flame. I have never seen a creature so beautiful.”

“M-my Lord,” Shouto stuttered, looking into Midoriya’s eyes for any deception. “I am not misunderstanding your... intentions here, am I?” He smoothed his hands over Midoriya’s (broad) shoulders.

Midoriya grinned slyly, cupping Shouto’s cheek in his palm and slowly placing the other at the small of his back. “I would love to court you, my Prince, if that would please you.”

“Then please,” Shouto whispered, a teasing tilt to his lips, “have mercy on me and get on with it, my Lord.”

Midoriya laughed delightedly and pressed his forehead against Shouto’s, constellations connecting and glowing on his face, like the universe was bleeding out of his skin.

Their kiss tasted of starlight.

Midoriya ran his fingers through Shouto’s hair, freeing the strands from the braid. The daisies fell to the ground soundlessly, like a sprinkle of stardust. Shouto wrapped his arm around Midoriya’s waist and embraced him, the contact so unfamiliar yet so, so addicting.

They fell to the grass unceremoniously, Shouto on top of Midoriya, and just breathed each other in, sharing each other’s warmth. Midoriya carded his fingers through Shouto’s hair and peppered kisses all over his face, especially gentle over his scarred skin. Shouto traced the constellations on Midoriya’s cheeks and giggled softly at the whispery contact of the god’s lips.

And they talked. Midoriya spoke of his days when he was still mortal, about his life under Toshinori’s guidance. He spoke of the cosmos ripping his body apart and building it back up, stronger than before, and pulsating with power. Shouto spoke hesitantly about his days under his father’s rule, about his trips to town and the wonderful people he had befriended.

Sometimes they didn’t talk at all, and let the crisp air of spring fill the space between them instead of words. They lay in the grass and breathed in the scent of snowdrops and daffodils, listening to the stories of the sky.

“The stars see your kind heart too, my Prince,” Midoriya whispered.

 “We think it is beautiful.”