Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

For days, the green haired boy, Izuku Midoriya, had found himself routinely drawn to the towering, sunlit glass windows of the grand palace. Standing there with his hands lightly pressed against the cool pane, he would gaze out toward the horizon where the Isle of the Lost loomed like a persistent shadow.

It was a tiny, desolate patch of land completely trapped inside an enormous, impenetrable magical barrier, separated from the bright, utopian splendor of Auradon by miles of shimmering ocean. Izuku loved to lose himself in his quiet thoughts while staring blankly at that distant island silhouette, a daily ritual that invariably reminded him of just how deeply flawed and unfair the world could be.< br /> Why? he would ask himself, his chest tightening with a familiar wave of guilt. Why was he permitted to live in such a magnificent, opulent place, completely safe and coddled within the secure stone walls of the king's castle, while hundreds of ordinary kids suffered in squalor, hunger, and darkness over there? What made him so fundamentally special that he deserved a crown while they deserved misery? He felt an urgent, burn ing necessity inside his soul to take action.

As the future king of the United States of Auradon, that moral compulsion continued to compound, growing heavier and more intense with every single passing day. He was fully aware that attempting to reach out and help the Isle of the Lost would invite massive political responsibilities, public criticism, and complicated problems, but Izuku knew that if he was going to wear the crown one day, he wanted to be a true king to both realms. After all, even the super villains banished away behind that barrier were technically his future subjects.
He was so deeply entrenched in these heavy internal deliberations that he completely tuned out his surroundings, until a sharp, authoritative voice sliced right through the silence of the royal fitting room.

"Sleeve, head," repeated the royal tailor, his tone dry and utterly focused as he brandished a box of pins, entirely concentrated on finishing the precise measurements for the young royal's formal attire.

The green-haired prince blinked rapidly, snapping abruptly back to reality. The tailor was meticulously crafting his brand-new, ornate uniform for the upcoming coronation ceremony.

And while Izuku was genuinely thrilled and honored by the prospect of finally stepping up to lead the kingdom, there was still a far weightier, more urgent matter tearing at his conscience that he needed to resolve before taking the throne.
"How is it even possible that you're going to be crowned king in a month!"
The king’s booming, unmistakable voice echoed loudly through the vaulted arches of the royal hall as he strode heavily into the room, flanked closely by his wife, her expression a mix of maternal pride and lingering anxiety.

"You're still just a child..." All Might grumbled, throwing his hands up in theatrical dismay.
"He's turning seventeen, dear," Inko sighed softly, stepping forward with a gentle, reassuring smile.
Inko was fiercely, undeniably proud of her son. She could have asked for nothing more in life than to watch Izuku mature into a compassionate, capable king, yet she also understood the crushing weight of the burden being placed on a seventeen-year-old shoulders.

"Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad," the prince greeted them, offering a polite, respectful nod of his head.
"Hold still! Your arms, please!" scolded the tailor sharply, grabbing one of the boy's forearms with a firm grip to anchor him in place while continuing to measure his chest with the other hand.
"Seventeen? It's still far too young. I didn't make my single most important life choice until I was forty-two!" whined the king, crossing his massive arms with an exaggerated pout.

"Didn't you choose to marry me when you were twenty-eight?" Inko countered instantly, crossing her own arms over her chest and shooting her husband a sharp, knowing sideways glare.
Toshinori blinked, momentarily caught off guard before flashing a mischievous, wide grin. "Well, to be fair, the choice was between you and a sentient teapot."
"Just kidding, just kidding!" Inko giggled instantly, waving a hand dismissively as a warm flush dusted her cheeks.
"Mom, Dad—" Izuku started, eagerly attempting to step down from the raised pedestal to properly approach his parents, only to be instantly halted.

"No, no! Stay put, I said!" snapped the tailor, dropping into a low crouch to frantically pin the trouser cuffs. The young prince froze mid-movement, swallowing hard. Taking a deep, resolute breath, he decided there was no better time than the present. "I’ve decided what my very first royal decree will be." He paused dramatically, letting the heavy silence build for a second.
The king and queen exchanged a proud, knowing look, completely unable to hide their affection. They honestly couldn't believe their eyes; their sweet boy was finally taking his royal duties with utmost seriousness, and they beamed with wide, glowing smiles—until Izuku finished his sentence.

"I want the kids from the Isle of the Lost to be given a chance to live here in Auradon."
Those few words could have cut through the thick air of the room like a razor-sharp blade. Not a single soul dared to utter even a whisper for the first five agonizing seconds; everyone was utterly, completely paralyzed with shock by what the prince had just proposed.

Best Jeanist, standing near the draperies, remained frozen with his jaw practically detached, accidentally letting his expensive tape measure slip from his limp fingers and coil onto the polished floor. The entire royal family turned to absolute stone. To break the suffocating, heavy quiet, Izuku spoke up again, his voice cracking slightly with emotion. "I look across that water at the island, and I realize... we just abandoned them there to rot." How could his own parents fail to understand his pure, ethical intentions? After all, isn't that precisely what a good, righteous king is supposed to do?

All Might slowly stepped forward toward his son, his towering frame casting a long shadow as his expression darkened into one of stern disapproval. "The children of our absolute worst, sworn enemies? Right here, walking freely among us? Izuku, it took us years of bloodshed, planning, and sleepless nights just to securely trap all those villains behind that barrier.

Years of unimaginable sacrifices and disasters, and now—just as Auradon has finally found genuine peace—you want to unleash absolute chaos?!"
Inko instinctively clutched her husband's muscular arm, her knuckles turning white as unshed tears of deep worry welled up in her eyes, glistening under the crystal chandeliers.

"We could start small! Just a handful of kids—only the ones who are suffering the most and truly need our help—and, well... I’ve actually already chosen them." The prince was practically vibrating with enthusiastic energy, talking about his grand plan with a pure, infectious joy, while his parents stood frozen, struggling to wrap their minds around the sheer magnitude of his request.
"You what?!" shouted the king, thunderous and incredulous, but Inko stepped forward ahead of him, her maternal instincts softening her expression.

"I... I gave you a second chance, too, sweetheart. " Deep down, perhaps their son wasn't entirely in the wrong. Izuku was nothing more—and nothing less—than a living reflection of the profound empathy and kindness that had always been instilled in him by his parents, and it was their duty to honor those values. She took a steadying breath. "Who are their parents?"

Izuku swallowed hard, his throat dry. "Mika Kaminari, the cruel..." He paused, steeling his nerves. "Kyotoku Jirou's family..."
The king and queen widened their eyes further at every single villainous name dropped into the conversation. "The Evil Queen Kirishima's household..." Izuku took one final, deep breath, planting both hands firmly along his waist as he prepared to detonate the final political bomb.

"And the wicked witch, Mitsuki Bakugo."
Best Jeanist let out a sharp, startled gasp, stumbling backward a step, while Inko was momentarily struck completely mute.
"MITSUKI BAKUGO?! YOUNG MIDORIYA, SHE IS QUITE LITERALLY THE MOST RUTHLESS, VICIOUS VILLAIN IN ALL THE KNOWN REALMS—!" the king raged, his voice rattling the very windowpanes.< br /> "Dad, please, just listen to me—" Izuku tried desperately to voice his carefully considered reasoning, but his father kept cutting him off, waving his hands frantically.
"No, you listen to me right now! I refuse to even entertain this discussion; those monsters are guilty of unforgivable, unspeakable crimes!"

Realizing he was entirely unwelcome in the escalating family dispute, the royal tailor quietly gathered his pins and shears, slipping silently out of the side door and leaving the royal family to argue in high-stakes privacy.

"But Dad, their kids didn't commit those crimes! They aren't guilty of their parents' sins. I'm just asking you to give them a single chance at a real life. They deserve a normal existence, just like anyone else."
Inko slowly turned her gaze toward her husband, visibly torn down the middle, agonizingly split between wanting to support her son's wildly ambitious humanitarian vision and fearing it would tear the kingdom apart.

"Dad, you've taught me ever since I was a little boy that we have a moral obligation to lend a helping hand to those who have fallen into darkness, and those kids... they look like people who desperately need to be saved from their own cages."
All Might let out a long, heavy sigh, his broad shoulders slumping as he realized, with a mixture of dread and profound admiration, that his son was entirely right. After all, children bore zero moral culpability for the inherited curses and maledictions caused by their progenitors. In that quiet moment, a swelling tide of immense pride bloomed in his chest for having successfully raised a future king who possessed such an extraordinary, radical level of empathy and compassion. That specific quality was precisely what would elevate him from a mere monarch to the greatest king in history.

"You're right. The children are entirely innocent..." All Might muttered quietly, rubbing the back of his neck before turning and walking slowly out of the room, leaving the space in thoughtful silence.
"Well done, my boy. Truly well done," his mother whispered affectionately, walking over to gently pat his shoulder with a warm, encouraging smile.

Far away from the glittering, immaculate towers of Auradon, tucked deep within the miserable, polluted gray underbelly of the Isle of the Lost, four young teenagers—the proud, rebellious offspring of the realm's most feared and despised villains—were busy wreaking absolute havoc and manufacturing trouble wherever their boots happened to tread. They took malicious pleasure in snatching fresh apples straight out of the hands of terrified fruit vendors, kicking over wooden display crates, and terrorizing the local market stalls. They were fiercely proud of their inherent wickedness, operating entirely on a philosophy of pure self-interest and spite.
Right in the middle of a narrow, grimy alleyway stood a spiky blonde teenager, aggressively vandalizing a massive brick wall with thick, dripping strokes of black and neon spray paint, flashing a garish symbol that made it clear to the entire underworld who ruled these streets. As the biological son of the infamous wicked witch, Katsuki Bakugo commanded absolute, unquestioned respect; absolutely no one on the island dared to cross him, nor did they dare challenge his tight-knit crew. He had forged a ruthless gang alongside the children of the most powerful evil figures across the dimensions.

"Still wasting your time tagging walls, Bakugo?" a cheerful, raspy voice called out from behind a stack of rusted barrels. "Wouldn't it be way more productive to go help Jirou and Denki loot some fresh junk? I heard through the grapevine that there's an expensive leather jacket stand set up just two streets down!"

Bakugo rolled his crimson eyes so hard they nearly snapped, dropped his empty spray paint can onto the hard asphalt with a sharp clatter, and spun around to glare at his redhead companion.

"Shitty Hair, exactly how many times do I have to drill this into your thick skull? I don't give a damn about stealing pathetic, cheap junk at the stupid open-air market! We're true villains, not common, low-rent petty thieves," he grumbled, baring his teeth. "Besides, going on any sort of operation with Denki is basically a guaranteed suicide mission; that idiot is way too clumsy and will inevitably get us all caught by the local guards."

The redhead chuckled easily, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, if shopping isn't your style, we could always go tear apart a random neighborhood instead?"
A cruel, sharp smirk tugged at the corner of the blonde's lips. Eijiro always knew precisely how to hook his attention. "Fine. Let's go sow some real chaos."
And wherever their small crew walked, predictable, glorious destruction followed in their wake.

A pair of frail, elderly townsfolk who had just sat down outside a crooked cafe to enjoy a quiet afternoon cup of tea saw their peaceful snack violently ruined when two energetic boys suddenly lunged past, smashing their ceramic teapots to shards with wooden sticks. The delinquents brazenly strutted across the table tops as if it were a high-fashion runway before sprinting away into the alleys, kicking over dozens of heavy wooden wheelbarrows and shoving scores of panicked, screaming people out of their path.

"Hey, guys! Over here!"
Two other members of their underground syndicate suddenly materialized out of the shadows to join the ongoing mischief—a goofy, electric-blonde boy and a sharp-eyed girl with short, jagged dark hair. "Look! We scored some actual jewelry!" the girl announced with a smug grin, proudly flashing a handful of shiny, stolen trinkets.
"And it was practically all thanks to my superior stealth, though Denki here almost completely blew our cover, ugh," the blue-haired girl muttered, rolling her eyes and giving her companion a sharp shove.
"Hey! I helped!" Denki protested defensively.

"Well done, squad," Kirishima praised, clapping his hands together.
Denki quickly shoved the glittering jewels deep into the pockets of his jacket, instantly ready to sprint alongside his accomplices to spread further misery across the block. On every single street they crossed, they deliberately smashed bicycle spokes and snatched sugary candy right out of the crying hands of small children. Eventually, they skidded to a halt in front of a crumbling, rotting wooden shack where three local vagrants were huddled for warmth. The four teenage delinquents exchanged wicked, knowing glances, silently waiting for Bakugo's final word of approval. With a sinister grin, Bakugo pulled a cheap metal lighter out of his pocket and flicked it alight, casting orange reflections across their faces as they all broke out into harsh, echoing laughter.
"After all, we're rotten straight down to the marrow.

Say a very permanent bye-bye to this pathetic Seven Dwarfs cottage, you useless extras," Bakugo announced loudly before tossing the lit match onto a pile of dry rags, snatching a bright lollipop from a nearby toddler, and bolting into a full sprint.
As they tore through the twisting labyrinth of streets, laughing maniacally, a sharp, familiar voice suddenly cut through the din and stopped them dead in their tracks. "Oh, what a breathtaking disappointment, Katsuki. Have you seriously degraded to swiping candy from babies now?"

Finally, the wicked witch had returned.
"Hey, it belonged to a brat," the blonde retorted defensively, flashing a cunning, shared smirk with his mother as both of them laughed off the petty crime.
"THAT'S MY LITTLE VILLAIN!"

Thinking quickly, her son casually tossed the stolen lollipop through the air as a trophy for his mother, but the wicked witch—possessing a particularly cruel flair for drama—had entirely different plans. She casually caught it, spat a glob of thick saliva right onto the candy, vigorously rubbed it underneath her sweaty armpit for good measure, and then marched over to aggressively shove it into the mouth of the nearest passing child. "There you go, you filthy, horrid little creature! Consider yourself blessed!"

Bakugo rolled his eyes with an audible groan, calling out to his mother across the cobblestones.
"It's always the precise, calculated little details that make the absolute difference between being merely petty and being truly, profoundly malevolent, you know, Katsuki..." She paused, letting out a nostalgic, raspy cackle as a wicked grin spread across her face. "Back when I was your age, I was dropping continent-wide curses on entire royal kingdoms, my dear boy."

Bakugo groaned in absolute, unadulterated frustration; his mother recycled and repeated that exact same boring anecdote on an almost daily basis. "Oh, for the love of—old witch, cut it out with this ancient history lesson already, ugh."
Without missing a beat, his mother casually raised her heavy iron scepter and whacked him squarely over the head with a dull thud. "Show some basic respect to your mother, you ungrateful little brat! One single day, you're going to have to learn how to be genuinely, terrifyingly evil just like me."

Bakugo chuckled darkly, rubbing the sore spot on his skull. "Gne gne , old hag—when my time comes, I'll surpass you."
His mother scolded him with a sharp glare, though a hint of twisted pride flickered in her eyes. "Oh, by the way, I have some massive news that's going to blow your miserable minds!"

The four teenagers instantly snapped around, fixing their gazes on her expectantly. "You four have officially been selected to attend a high-class preparatory school... over in Auradon."
The exact second she uttered that repulsive, forbidden word—Auradon—Bakugo's entire crew instinctively panicked, turning on their heels to make a desperate break for freedom down the alley. But their escape was short-lived; within seconds, they found themselves completely cornered and blocked off by a wall of the wicked witch's bulky, intimidating goons. The blonde could hardly process what his ears had just heard.

"ARE YOU COMPLETELY OUT OF YOUR DAMN MIND, YOU OLD HAG?! I AM NOT GOING TO SOME STUPID, GLORIFIED BOARDING SCHOOL FILLED TO THE BRIM WITH USELESS EXTRAS AND ARROGANT PRINCELETS WEARING THEIR STUPID, SHINEY TIARAS! NUH-UH! NO WAY IN HELL!"
Kirishima stepped in closer to his fuming friend, trying to reason with him. "Bakugo, hold on a second, just wait! Think about it—it could actually be kind of interesting. We could scope out the place, meet tons of ridiculously wealthy, naive princes and princesses, trick them into marrying into royalty, and come back filthy rich!"

Bakugo sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose before landing a vicious, open-handed punch directly against his best friend's armored shoulder. "Has your brain completely fried from the smog, shitty hair?! Why on earth would hanging out with hundreds of insufferable blue-blooded idiots ever be considered interesting?!"

Denki leaned over, whispering conspiratorially to Jirou, "I mean, I'm not really big on standard school uniforms... unless they're made entirely out of tight, black leather, hehe!"
The blue-haired girl replied instantly by driving her knuckles sharply into his ribs. "Shut up, idiot."
"Dunce-face, that entire third-world swamp of a kingdom is full of dogs!" yelled Bakugo, violently spinning around to point an accusing finger right in the yellow-haired boy's face.
At the mere mention of the word, Denki shrieked in absolute, paralyzing terror. His single greatest phobia in the entire universe was dogs; his mother had raised him from infancy with a pathological, gripping fear of the animals, constantly drilling into his head that they were rabid, flesh-eating beasts that hunted down anyone who didn't behave. Seizing the golden opportunity, Jirou quietly crept up directly behind him and let out a vicious, loud bark right into his ear. Denki yelled in pure, unadulterated panic, leaping straight up into the air like a startled cat, while the young girl doubled over, laughing hysterically at his misery.
"Ugh, extras," muttered the blonde, turning his scowl back toward his mother. "We are never, ever going. Drop it."

Sensing his resistance, the wicked witch launched smoothly into a grand, persuasive speech. The entire future of their dark world was at stake—absolute global dominion and total freedom hung in the balance. She wanted to send her son into the belly of the beast precisely so she could exact her long-awaited revenge on the establishment.

"You are going to march right in there, you are going to covertly track down the Fairy Godmother's magic wand, and you are going to smuggle it right back here to me so I can finally take over the entire world!" She blew casually on her long, polished fingernails, acting nonchalant. "Trust me, it'll be an absolute walk in the park."
"Yeah, well, what's actually in it for us?" Bakugo countered sharply. He never moved a muscle purely for the benefit of someone else's grand vision; he always demanded a guaranteed cut and personal leverage for himself and his crew.

"Oh, I don't know—a couple of nice thrones, a crown for u, and an even bigger, shinier one for me—"
Bakugo cut his mother off flatly, refusing to let her play her usual games. He wanted assurance that all four of them would walk away with power. "Old witch, I mean all four of us."

His mother shrieked in sudden outrage, lunging forward to strike him across the shins with her heavy staff. "STOP CALLING ME AN OLD HAG, YOU LITTLE BRAT!" She cleared her throat dramatically, smoothed down the heavy folds of her dark robes, and settled back onto her throne with a huff. "Everything depends entirely on your success. Besides, you love making innocent souls suffer more than anything else in the world, don't you, my sweet son?"

She knew with absolute certainty that her boy would ultimately back her up in this dangerous venture. After all, she had carefully raised him according to a code of values that the rest of the world would consider deeply warped; he didn't operate for the greater good of society, but strictly for his own supreme dominance.
"Bring me that wand, and thanks to that power combined with my own magic scepter, from that moment on I will be able to bend all existence and all evil completely to my ultimate will!" shouted the witch, throwing her arms dramatically wide to the heavens.

"To our collective will," instantly corrected Kirishima's mother, the Evil Queen, stepping forward from the sidelines, firmly backed by the nods of the other villain leaders.

"Yes, yes, of course—to our will, to our will," the witch hastily corrected herself, showing precious little genuine interest in sharing actual power. "And let me make this crystal clear: if you refuse this mission, you are officially grounded for all eternity!"
At that final ultimatum, the blonde completely lost his mind. Kirishima and Denki had to physically lunge forward and wrap their arms around him, holding him back by force to keep him from launching himself across the room in a blind fury.
"I swear, you and your cursed old-lady stick belong in a dumpster!" he roared, kicking wildly against the floorboards.

Meanwhile, over in a completely different, equally dismal corner of the island:
"Eijiro, my sweet, darling boy, you are a prince by blood, remember? So when you get over there, you are required by law to find yourself an impossibly gorgeous princess with a massive, glittering castle and—oh!—lots and lots of mirrors!"
Despite her terrifying moniker, the Evil Queen had actually raised her son with a surprising amount of affection, vastly different from the harsh neglect typical of the other villains. While no one could deny that Eijiro loved causing a ruckus just as much as his peers, he frequently found his mind wandering, secretly wondering what a peaceful, colorful life in Auradon might actually feel like—a stark contrast to the absolute cynicism of his friends.
Nearby, the wicked witch let out a loud, dramatic snort. "They are out of their minds if they think they'll ever take my precious Denki away; I would miss him way too damn much!"

Cruella dramatically pulled her son into a tight, suffocating embrace. Denki looked genuinely stunned, completely frozen by an uncharacteristic expression of raw maternal affection that he had literally never experienced once in his entire life.
"Well, besides... if you leave, who on earth is going to scrub away all these damn calluses on my feet?" she added bluntly, breaking the tension.

The yellow-haired boy snorted, rolling his eyes. Perhaps this fancy school business wouldn't turn out to be the absolute worst thing in the world after all.
"But wait, sweetheart... aren't there dogs all over Auradon?"
Denki instantly started hyperventilating, his eyes going wide with pure panic. "OH NO, NOT DOGS! NOPE, THAT SETTLES IT, I AM SO NOT GOING!"

Over at Jirou’s cluttered workshop, her father was throwing an equally dramatic fit, desperately arguing against the girl's departure—mostly because she was essential to keeping the shop running smoothly by boosting inventory through the daily theft of anything shiny they laid eyes on.

Tired of the whining, the wicked witch abruptly rose from her throne, slamming both palms down onto the heavy wooden table with a resounding bang that rattled the dust off the ceiling. "What in the world has gotten into all of you soft-hearted fools?! Twenty years ago, people used to cower in sheer terror at the mere, whispered perception of our names!" she screamed, her voice cracking with fury. "For two agonizing decades they've locked us away in this garbage dump of an island, completely preventing us from executing our righteous revenge! Revenge on Snow White and her stupid, irritating dwarfs! Revenge on Aladdin and his wretched, glowing lamp! Revenge on every single ungrateful Dalmatian and every sappy, winged fairy in existence!"

They all stood in silence, knowing she wasn't fundamentally wrong. They had to get their long-overdue revenge; after all, they were villains to the core.

"VILLIANS... the exact hour has finally come," she proclaimed grandly, stalking across the room to wrench open their primary security safe—which, in typical island fashion, was actually just a heavily padlocked, repurposed kitchen refrigerator—and pulling out an ancient, leather-bound tome pulsing with dark energy: the book of curses. She handed it firmly to her son, knowing with absolute certainty that it would eventually prove indispensable. This was their definitive moment.

Nearby, Kirishima's mother gently handed her son an ornate, silver-trimmed magic mirror. Every single one of them was now thoroughly galvanized and determined to track down that elusive magic wand.
"Do you both remember how much absolute fun we used to have spreading misery across the land?" the wicked witch asked her old friend with a wicked grin.
"Oh, like it was just yesterday," the queen purred back. "Now it's your turn to get out there and make some dark memories of your own—by following every single instruction I give you, is that understood?"
"Yeah, yeah, old witch—"
"STOP CALLING ME THAT, YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE BRAT, OR I SWEAR TO GOD—"
"Or what? You gonna hit me with your ancient old-lady walking stick again?"

Before the witch could retaliate with a hex, the sharp, authoritative beep of a heavy motor horn pierced the heavy island air. Their customized, elongated limousine had officially arrived to transport them across the magical boundary and into the nauseatingly bright world of fairy tales.
While everyone else scrambled frantically to finish throwing their belongings into battered duffel bags, the wicked witch stepped gracefully out onto the crumbling iron balcony, looking down at her son.

"The future of the entire free world is resting squarely in your hands now, sweetheart. Don't you dare blow it. " Those were her final parting words to Katsuki before he hoisted his heavy bag over one shoulder, turned his back on the castle, and marched out into the courtyard alongside his crew, stepping forward into an unpredictable new reality.

"Wow, look at this ride! Holy shit, it's massive!" Denki cheered, pressing his face against the pristine glass of the vehicle.
"Idiot, it's just a standard limousine," Jirou rolled her eyes, effortlessly tossing her heavy luggage into the deep trunk alongside the rest of the gear before pulling the door shut.

Kirishima climbed inside the plush interior first, followed closely by a hesitant Denki and a slouching Jirou. Bakugo was the single member of the group lagging behind. He stood completely, unnaturally still on the pavement for a long moment, slowly tilting his head back to gaze up at the balcony where his mother still stood watching. For a brief, silent second, their eyes locked. He had no intention of letting his mother down—even though they bickered constantly, traded insults daily, and he would literally rather die than ever admit it out loud, he genuinely cared about her and fiercely valued what she thought of him.

With a sharp turn, he hopped into the car.
The limousine's interior was entirely packed with fascinating, high-end luxuries they had never seen before: a portable color television, impossibly soft cashmere blankets, and an endless, beautifully arranged crystal bowl filled to the brim with gourmet sweets and chocolates. The three boys didn't waste even a fraction of a second before lunging forward to tear open the packaging and sample everything in sight.

"Mmh! Oh, man, this is incredible—it tastes sort of like salted peanuts, but it's sweet in a way I don't even know how to describe!" mumbled Denki happily, his mouth already completely stuffed with imported truffles.
"Let me see that," Jirou demanded, holding out a hand.
Denki obligingly opened his mouth wide to show her the chewed-up, messy chocolate mush inside.

"Ew, gross, you absolute savage!" she shrieked, landing a hard punch directly on his arm before swiping a clean piece of chocolate right from his grasp and popping it straight into her own mouth. In that single instant, they had discovered their newest, most powerful obsession: chocolate.

"Hey, Bakugo, try one of these weird candies," Kirishima offered, holding out an unusual, star-shaped lollipop unlike anything they had ever encountered in the slums of the island.
Bakugo rolled his eyes dismissively, ignoring the candy entirely. Instead, his crimson eyes drifted toward a sleek, high-tech electronic remote control resting on the armrest, featuring just a single, glowing red button. Without a second thought, he reached out and pressed it.
Nothing happened at all—or at least, that was what he initially assumed.

Up ahead through the windshield, the limousine was getting dangerously, rapidly close to the edge of the deep water bridge, and the teenagers suddenly felt their stomachs drop as a strange, unnatural silence fell. Panic set in; did the button trigger a trap? Were they about to plunge straight down into the freezing sea and drown before their mission even began?

“IT’S A TRAP! A TOTAL, DEPLORABLE, LIFE-THREATENING SETUP!” yelled Denki Kaminari at the absolute top of his lungs, his voice cracking with genuine panic while he desperately continued to stuff his face with imported chocolate. In a blind surge of survival instinct, he lunged sideways and clung desperately to Jirou like a frightened koala, burying his face in her shoulder while both of them shrieked in absolute, synchronized terror.

However, the long limousine did not violently nose-dive into the freezing, dark waters below. Instead, a breathtaking, dazzling beam of brilliant yellow light instantly enveloped the entire length of the suspension bridge. As the luxury vehicle rolled smoothly forward, an ethereal, magical pathway materialized out of thin air, weaving a secure, shimmering bridge of light that formed an unbroken physical connection between the two previously isolated worlds.

Inside the cabin, Bakugo slowly straightened the lapels of his dark jacket, letting out a long, intensely annoyed sigh as he glared at the chaos around him.
“Was it this stupid remote control that just opened the damn magic barrier?” he demanded sharply, leaning over the back of the front seat to glare through the glass partition at the driver.

“Whoa... look at that! That is so damn cool!” shouted Kirishima, pressing his nose so hard against the window that it flattened, his red eyes wide with childlike awe as he watched the sparkling path unfold.

“No, you idiot, that one simply closes my home garage,” the royal driver replied in a completely deadpan, monotone voice without even glancing back. “This one right here opens the actual magic barrier,” he corrected, casually tapping a completely different, nondescript button on his console before hitting a master switch that hissed softly, instantly raising the heavy, soundproof privacy partition between the rowdy teenagers and the front seat.

“Pff... total, useless extra,” muttered Bakugo, rolling his eyes with a scowl as he slumped back heavily into the plush leather seat, crossing his arms firmly over his chest and refusing to look out the window for the remainder of the journey.

After several long hours of silent, tedious travel across the gleaming countryside, the limousine finally slowed to a halt in front of a sprawling, magnificent brick castle that looked like it had been torn straight out of a fairy-tale picture book. The heavy engine idled quietly before the driver stepped out, marching around to manually pull open the back door.

Inside, Denki and Kirishima were still locked in a fierce, petty wrestling match over a cashmere blanket and the portable TV they had scavenged from the interior compartments, while Bakugo and Jirou gracefully stepped out of the vehicle first, their faces contorted into expressions of profound disgust as they surveyed the excessive, nauseating abundance of manicured flowered hedges and pristine topiary sculptures.

Waiting for them on the wide stone steps was an entire, meticulously organized welcoming committee, led by the smiling future king himself, Prince Izuku, alongside the ancient, respected headmistress and fairy godmother, Recovery Girl.
Unable to help himself, Kirishima immediately stepped forward, rolling his shoulders and flashing a confident, predatory grin as he approached the dark-haired maiden standing respectfully beside the elderly fairy.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” the redhead purred, leaning in just a fraction too close, but the girl merely giggled, looking equal parts thoroughly amused and deeply creeped out by his aggressive confidence. “The name’s Eijiro Kirishima, by the way.”

Before the redhead could launch into another smooth line, the diminutive elderly fairy stepped briskly right in front of him, physically cutting him off with a crisp, authoritative introduction. She was none other than the legendary Fairy Godmother, Recovery Girl herself—the very same iconic magic user who had once worked miracles for Cinderella.
Bakugo raised a single, skeptical blond eyebrow, looking down at the tiny old woman with intense scrutiny. “Wait. That old fairy? The one responsible for the whole bibbidi-bobbidi-boo circus?”

“The one and only, young man!” the old woman beamed proudly, her eyes crinkling.
Interesting, the blonde thought to himself, narrowing his crimson eyes as his mind instantly began calculating potential leverage. So she's the one holding all the cards.
“So you’re the legendary owner of the magic wand, huh? Must’ve been a real walk in the park helping out Cinderella back in the day, right?” Bakugo pressed, his tone dripping with casual disrespect.
Recovery Girl offered a patient, knowing smile, though a faint shadow crossed her eyes at the reminder of centuries long past. “A few centuries ago, yes. Right, old fairy?” Jirou chimed in smoothly, stepping up beside Bakugo with a mocking, razor-sharp smirk playing on her lips.

The elderly woman’s polite expression tightened into a thin, forced smile in response to the intentional insult. Straightening her posture, she met their gaze unblinkingly. “As I always like to remind my students, dear: don't ever dwell on the dark past—always focus entirely on the bright future!”
Sensing the rapidly escalating social tension, Prince Izuku eagerly stepped forward from the back of the group, practically vibrating with enthusiastic energy at finally meeting the flesh-and-blood children of his kingdom's historical enemies.

“It is an absolute, profound pleasure to finally meet you all in person! I’m Izuku Midoriya,” he declared, his voice ringing with pure, unadulterated sincerity.
The dark-haired maiden gently stepped in, correcting him with a fond, possessive smile. He was Prince Izuku, she noted, “and he’s going to be crowned king very, very soon!” she added exuberantly, looping her arm through his and squeezing it just a fraction too tightly, making her territorial claim crystal clear.

At the magical word prince, Kirishima instantly perked right back up, shaking off his minor defeat. If Izuku was a prince, that meant they were practically social peers, which logically meant they were destined to become best friends—plus, by his own twisted logic, he was basically minor royalty himself.

“Hey, my mom happens to be the Evil Queen, so technically speaking, I’m practically a prince too!” the redhead announced proudly, throwing a thumb against his chest.
The dark-haired girl let out a dry, dismissive laugh. “Well, to be entirely accurate, the Evil Queen currently holds zero legal title, land, or domain here in Auradon,” she chuckled, “so that means you certainly don't either!”

Realizing how harsh that sounded, Izuku quickly stepped in to smooth things over, formally introducing her: this was Princess Ochako Uraraka, daughter of Sleeping Beauty, and also his loving girlfriend. “Right, babyzukuu?” she teased affectionately, leaning up to pat his cheek.< br /> The prince instantly flushed a violent, incandescent crimson from the collar of his shirt up to his unruly green curls, clumsily rubbing the back of his neck in sheer embarrassment at the intensely childish, humiliating nickname.

Sensing that her presence was no longer required, Recovery Girl politely excused herself, officially leaving the grand introductory tour of the prestigious academy entirely in Prince Izuku’s capable, hyper-enthusiastic hands.

“I am just so, so happy you're all finally here!” Izuku beamed, stepping right into their space with his hand outstretched to enthusiastically shake everyone’s hand one by one. He stopped dead in front of the blond spike-haired rebel, locking his wide green eyes directly into Bakugo's fierce crimson ones. “It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you, Katsuki Bakugo. I truly, deeply hope we can learn to get along.”

The blonde rolled his eyes so hard it looked painful, immediately firing back with a toxic grin. “The pleasure’s entirely mine, babyzukuu,” he mocked, letting out a harsh, dry laugh that highlighted the sheer absurdity of the ridiculous pet name Uraraka had used just moments before.
Izuku awkwardly scratched his neck again, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he tried desperately to brush off the insult. “This is a truly monumental, historic occasion, one that I sincerely hope will go down in the history books as the day two entirely distinct peoples finally reunited—!”
Before the prince could launch into another one of his endless, idealistic speeches, the short blue-haired girl cut him off completely flat. “Oh, or maybe—just a wild guess—it’s simply the day you show four exhausted, jet-lagged kids where the damn bathroom is.”

To their deeply cynical, island-bred tastes, Izuku’s relentless optimism was simply way too cheerful to handle. It was suffocating.
Izuku blinked, his bright smile faltering just a fraction as his shoulders slumped. “Did... did I overdo it?” Izuku muttered under his breath, dropping his outstretched arms.
Bakugo let out a sharp, dismissive breath through his nose. Yeah, you definitely did.

“Izuku, I honestly told you from the very beginning that this whole humanitarian experiment wasn't a great idea,” Uraraka whispered sharply under her breath, glaring at the newcomers.

“Well, so much for making a stellar first impression,” Izuku laughed nervously, trying to salvage the atmosphere.
Bakugo shifted his stance, a dark, wicked smirk slowly spreading across his lips as he let out a low, gravelly chuckle. Maybe Kirishima hadn't been entirely wrong after all; staying in this pastel wonderland might actually provide some genuine amusement.
“I honestly don't blame your mother for trying to violently murder my entire family,” Uraraka spat out suddenly, turning her glare toward the group with a brittle, profoundly fake laugh.

Bakugo didn't miss a single beat, instantly matching her mocking, toxic tone without an ounce of hesitation. “Too bad that useless witch totally failed, damn it. Looks like I’ll just have to come back and finish the job myself, huh?” He laughed even harder, his crimson eyes gleaming with malicious intent.

Uraraka’s fake smile vanished completely in an instant, her features hardening. “You should be profoundly thankful that they didn't completely exclude me from that stupid christening instead of my mother—because if I had been holding the curse, I would've gladly drowned your precious, self-righteous mother in boiling holy water.”
Sensing that things were rapidly spiraling from verbal sparring into actual hostility, Kirishima quickly jumped in between them, waving his hands frantically to defuse the brewing storm.

He offered a wide, nervous grin, loudly insisting that his friend was just joking, totally just kidding around, nothing to see here!
Managing to navigate the social minefield, Izuku successfully broke the sudden, suffocating tension and officially kicked off the long school tour, guiding them through the magnificent corridors of Auradon Prep—a breathtaking estate originally built over three hundred years ago and subsequently converted into a prestigious academy by his father the moment he ascended the throne.

Right by the main grand entrance lay a sprawling, immaculate courtyard garden adorned with an enormous, gleaming bronze statue of King All Might himself in all his heroic glory. Everything was proceeding with agonizing perfection until, completely without warning, the massive metal statue suddenly shuddered and shifted. Its rigid bronze limbs morphed and rippled right before their very eyes, transforming into the terrifying, snarling shape of a monstrous beast.

Denki and Kirishima shrieked in absolute, unadulterated terror, instantly grabbing each other in a death grip and diving headfirst behind a thick marble pillar for immediate cover.
“WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL IS THAT THING?!” one of them yelled hysterically, pointing a trembling, shaking finger directly at the towering monument.

Bakugo and Jirou merely shot the two cowering cowards withering, disgusted looks; they were acting way too pathetic and childish for the strict standards of the Isle. Izuku quickly stepped forward to reassure them, explaining with a bright, earnest smile that it was simply a clever magical security trick commissioned by the king to remind every student that in this kingdom, anything was truly possible.
The blonde arched a single brow at the prince, his expression utterly deadpan. “Right. So... does he shed a disgusting amount of fur, or what?”
“Actually... my mom completely banned him from sitting on the living room couch,” Izuku replied with absolute, deadpan earnestness, smiling as brightly as the midday sun.

Bakugo stared at him for a long, silent moment, completely bewildered by how anyone could possibly be this profoundly oblivious to basic reality, before letting out a sharp scoff of sheer disbelief at the prince's total, unadulterated innocence.
Continuing their march through the endless, echoing corridors, Izuku dutifully showed them the main dining hall, the administrative wing, the rows of restrooms, and finally, the grand common room.
“And last but certainly not least, this is the main student common area,” Izuku announced proudly, sweeping his arms out to gesture toward a massive, opulent lounge dominated by a glittering diamond chandelier hanging from the vaulted ceiling and two sweeping twin staircases curving up into the shadows. Those grand stairs, he carefully explained, led straight up to the private student dormitories.

“Mina!” the prince called out, cupping his hands around his mouth to raise his voice and catch the attention of a vibrant, hyperactive pink-haired girl who was currently leaning lazily over the upper balcony railing.
She scrambled down the winding steps in an energetic flurry of motion, landing smoothly and immediately introducing herself with a wide, welcoming wave. “Hi there! I’m Mina Ashido, daughter of Snow White! And I am completely, one hundred percent at your service!”

Prince Izuku clapped his hands together with a satisfied smile. “Well, I have some deeply pressing royal council duties to attend to right now, but Mina will gladly help you all locate your respective dorm rooms. If you ever need anything at all during your stay, please don't hesitate to ask!” he beamed, flashing another one of those dazzling, hyper-positive smiles—the kind of blinding radiance that deeply nauseated every single villainous teenager standing in the room.

The exact second Izuku and Ochako turned and departed down the hall, Mina didn't waste a single heartbeat. She immediately launched into a rapid-fire breakdown of the strict daily school schedule: morning classes would predictably consist of tedious deportment, posture correction, and etiquette, while the long afternoons were strictly dedicated to the riveting history of woodcutters and pirates, culminating in a mandatory, highly monitored remedial goodness class.

Without missing a beat, Kirishima smoothly sidled up alongside the pink-haired girl, flashing a cocky, winning grin that had worked on the Isle a thousand times. “Absolute pleasure to meet you, gorgeous. I’m Eijiro Kirishima—though just so you're fully aware, my mother is the Evil Queen,” he emphasized smoothly, hoping to evoke at least a shred of healthy fear.
Instead of shrinking back, Mina simply looked thoroughly fascinated, her eyes lighting up with genuine curiosity as she returned his confident smile with interest.
“Well, the pleasure is entirely mine! Though just a friendly heads-up, guys: attendance for all of these classes is strictly, without exception, mandatory...” she added cheerfully, popping a bubble with her gum.

Bakugo rolled his crimson eyes hard and shoved both hands deep into his pockets. “What kind of pathetic, time-wasting garbage classes are these supposed to be?” he grumbled under his breath.
“All right, enough of this endless small talk, let's just go find our damn rooms,” Jirou interrupted flatly, spitting out the sticky wrapper of a stolen chocolate directly onto the pristine carpeted floor.

“Catch you later, princess,” Kirishima winked smoothly at Mina before turning on his heel to follow his crew down the corridor in search of their assigned quarters.
Mina watched them trail off down the hall, letting out an amused giggle to herself. “Well... talk about making a thoroughly unique first impression.”
“What the actual hell kind of room is this?! It looks like a mf cartoon bedroom wtf!” snapped Bakugo the exact moment he kicked open the heavy oak door to their assigned double dorm room.

Denki immediately agreed, spinning around in dismay as he took in the aggressive displays of lace and pastels, while Kirishima stood frozen near the threshold, staring in wide-eyed, horrified awe at the overwhelmingly sugary, princely decor.
“I mean... it’s actually kind of cute in a weird way—!” Kirishima started, before being cut off.
“It looks like absolute, unadulterated shit.”
“Oh. Yeah. Wow, it totally sucks,” Kirishima corrected himself instantly, executing a lightning-fast pivot to back up his best friend's judgment without a second thought.

Bakugo didn't waste a second; he rushed across the sprawling room to the floor-to-ceiling windows, violently seizing the heavy silk curtains and pulling them shut with enough force to block out the blinding afternoon sun completely. “Much better,” he muttered darkly before diving face-first straight onto the center of his brand-new, ultra-plush mattress, keeping his heavy, muddy combat boots firmly on.
Just then, the adjoining door burst open without warning. “Hey, was your room blindingly, sickeningly bright too?” Jirou walked in uninvited, noting the darkened, cave-like atmosphere of the boys' room. “Luckily I managed to score a single, but the entire space is painted completely pink from top to bottom. Ugh. I think I'm going to gouge my own eyes out.” She rolled her eyes dramatically.

“Hey, Kyoka, get over here and check this insane thing out, it’s completely unreal!” Denki called out excitedly from across the room, having already completely ignored the decor in favor of discovering the state-of-the-art video game console hooked up to the massive flat-screen TV, completely glued to the glowing screen.
“No thanks, my hands are entirely full,” she replied offhandedly, flashing a heavy handful of expensive, sparkling jewelry she had managed to swipe right out of a nearby girls' dorm on her walk over.
Kirishima looked over at her, tilting his head in genuine confusion. “What’s even the point of stealing all this random, trivial crap right now anyway?”

For Jirou, stealing had never been about the intrinsic physical value of the objects themselves—it was the pure, electrifying thrill of acquiring whatever she wanted simply because she could take it for free.
“There’s literally zero point in hoarding any of this cheap crap right now anyway. You idiots can just come back and take whatever the hell you want once the entire world officially belongs to us,” Bakugo muttered from his bed, lying flat on his back with his hands laced tightly behind his head, still refusing to take off his boots.
They were all physically exhausted from the long, jarring journey across the barrier, but they knew they couldn't afford to waste precious time lounging around like pampered pets.

They had a dangerous, high-stakes mission to execute.
“For what it’s worth, I actually talked to that pink-haired girl earlier—Mina, right? I had her show me precisely where the girls' dorms were located, and while we walked, I casually pried about where they securely store all the magical artifacts around here,” Jirou explained, stepping fully into the room and plopping down unceremoniously onto a plush velvet ottoman in the very center. “Including Recovery Girl’s master wand.”
The exact microsecond Bakugo heard those magic words, he shot straight up from the mattress as if he had been struck by a high-voltage lightning bolt.
“The wand... Shitty Hair!” Bakugo barked sharply, locking fierce crimson eyes with the redhead. “Grab your damn magic mirror right now. It’s finally time to track down that wand once and for all.”

Kirishima didn't waste a single fraction of a second. He scrambled to his duffel bag, pulling out the ornate, silver-trimmed hand mirror his mother had gifted him, and immediately commanded the glass surface to reveal the exact location of the powerful magic artifact.
“I think Mina mentioned something about a heavily guarded museum earlier when she was rattling off the campus layout. Try asking the glass for that specifically,” Jirou suggested, leaning in closer.
“Got it. It's showing the Auradon History Museum,” Kirishima announced a second later, peering intensely into the swirling, foggy surface of the glass.

Bakugo immediately ordered the blonde to pinpoint the precise distance and layout. “It’s roughly about 2.3 miles straight from this exact building.”
Moving with silent, disciplined efficiency, the four teenage delinquents slipped out of their dorm rooms under the cover of the rapidly deepening dusk, creeping stealthily toward the secondary school exit like shadows in the night.

When they finally arrived at the grand, imposing architecture of the museum, they found the massive front oak doors locked tight against intruders. Catching a reflection in a glass pane, Katsuki grabbed the mirror from Kirishima’s hands for a split second. “Wait, does my hair look completely messed up?” he muttered under his breath, quickly checking his spikes.
“Yes, it always does—now for God's sake, just look for the damn wand!” Jirou snapped, landing a sharp, stinging whack on the back of his head.

“Ow! What the hell is your problem—?!”
“Over this way, stop arguing,” Kirishima whispered urgently, pointing toward a discreet side service entrance half-hidden by thick ivy.
The cavernous interior of the building was completely deserted and deathly quiet—after all, it was well past ten at night. The only faint sign of life was a lone, elderly night guard who was heavily dozing off in a swivel chair right in the center of the main security control room, snoring softly.
“Hey, wait a second... isn't that your mother’s infamous spinning wheel right over there, Bakugo?” Jirou whispered, pointing a slender finger toward an ominous, dust-covered antique displayed prominently in the middle of the main hall, positioned directly behind the sleeping guard's unattended desk.
“Doesn't look all that sinister or terrifying to me,” Denki giggled quietly, earning an immediate glare.

“I’ve got actual chills running down my spine,” Kirishima laughed even louder, trying to stifle his amusement.
“You absolute idiots, it’s not supposed to look funny, it’s a cursed magical artifact—now shut the fuck up!” Bakugo hissed furiously, quickly flipping open the pages of the heavy book of curses to find the correct, localized incantation to keep the old guard fast asleep for hours.
As soon as the old man slumped even further down into his padded chair, letting out a heavy whistle of deep sleep, the kids forced the side service door open with a quiet click and slipped inside, moving like phantoms through the cavernous exhibition halls. Each towering floor housed centuries of fairy-tale history and enchanted relics behind glass, but as they swept through, there was still no trace of the artifact they needed.

“Hey, guys... you seriously need to come see this right now,” Kyoka called out in a hushed, trembling whisper from an adjoining gallery.
When the rest of the group cautiously caught up to her, they all stopped dead in their tracks, struck instantly by a wave of profound, eerie horror. Standing right before them in the dim lighting were terrifyingly realistic, life-sized wax figures of their own villainous parents, frozen in eternal, menacing displays. And right at the absolute center of the grand chamber stood the Wicked Witch herself in all her glory—Maleficent—Bakugo’s own mother.
“Now... that is genuinely, deeply terrifying,” Kirishima whispered, his voice dropping an octave as his eyes widened in shock.
They were completely, utterly speechless. The wax effigies were so hauntingly, meticulously lifelike that it genuinely felt as though their powerful parents were physically standing right there in the room with them, watching their every move with cold eyes.

“Damn... even the damn wax figure gives me the absolute creeps,” Denki muttered, visibly shrinking back and refusing to step a single inch closer to the effigy of his mother.
Bakugo scowled deeply, fighting down an unexpected knot in his stomach as he shoved past them, snapping aggressively that they were wasting precious time standing around gawking. They had a mission to finish.

Pushing forward through a final set of heavy, iron-reinforced double doors, they finally spotted their ultimate prize: the magic wand, resting securely inside a pulsing, glowing protective energy barrier right in the exact center of the chamber.
Without thinking, Denki eagerly lunged forward, reaching out a hand to blindly grab it, despite his friends shouting frantic warnings at him not to touch the barrier. Ignoring every plea, he inched his fingertips forward until they made direct contact with the shimmering field.

In a blinding flash of pure, violent light, a massive electrical shockwave hurled him backward through the air, sending him crashing hard across the stone room and instantly triggering a deafening, piercing security alarm that echoed relentlessly through the echoing halls, instantly jolting the night guard wide awake downstairs.
“Great going, absolute genius,” Jirou sighed, rolling her eyes as the sirens wailed above them.

Bakugo stormed across the room toward the trembling, smoking blonde, grabbing him roughly by the collar of his leather jacket and hoisting him up. He was incandescent with pure rage, his fists visibly twitching as he fought the urge to best his ass.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, you brainless dumbass?! We explicitly told you not to touch the damn thing!” he roared over the blaring klaxons.

Before Bakugo could unleash a punch, Kirishima dove in between them, shoving them apart. “You can literally kill him later! We need to run, right fucking now!”
The blonde gritted his teeth so hard they nearly cracked, violently shoving Denki away in absolute disgust as the security sirens intensified outside.

“Nice going, Kaminari,” Bakugo yelled furiously over the deafening alarm as they sprinted flat-out toward the emergency exit. “Thanks kaminari, now we are forced to go to school tomorrow!”