Honeygothic 🌸
@dynamighttiddy
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25+ | she/they 🏳️🌈 | 🔞 | bk🔁dk + multiship | not spoiler free | icon by @awkwarddarknerd 🩷
kacchan’s ample bosom
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fantasy a/b/o AU,
#BKDK
🔞 (in later updates)
Izuku was four when his heart was broken for the very first time.
He remembers it clearly: the scent of summer in the air, his soaked clothes clinging to his skin, the sting of rejection.
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And despite endless search parties scouting the woods outside the palace walls, he was never found.
TBC!
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OK OK so… omegaverse public sex AU where as a part of UA’s sex ed, they pick out an omega for the class full of alpha soon-to-be-heroes to have some uh, “hands on” learning
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okay so i see a lot of “deku wanted to be kacchan’s wife growing up” but i raise you: KACCHAN wanting to be the wife, because his mom rules over his dad so of course being the wife is better!
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“Queen Mitsuki, King Masaru. Prince /Bakugou/. My name is Akihiko Toshinori.” He looks up then, piercing emerald eyes looking straight into Katsuki’s.
“But I believe you know me better as Izuku.”
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He turned on his heel, feet pounding against the stone floor as he ran out of the throne room. If anyone called out to him to stop him, he didn’t hear them.
Izuku ran, and ran, and ran.
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So instead he turns abruptly and marches out of the room, mind dead set on one thing only: stopping his betrothal ball.
Katsuki Bakugou is /not/ getting engaged.
TBC!
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Later, his mother held him and whispered that he wasn’t allowed to play with the prince anymore. “Omega serving boys aren’t meant for alpha princes like him,” she’d said in hushed tones. “Izuku, you know better.”
He’d cried anyway, wept for the boy he loved so dearly.
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Katsuki was fourteen when the love of his life died.
“Went missing,” he’d insisted the first few months. “Deku is /missing/, not dead.”
But months turned into years, and years turned into a decade, and Izuku is still gone.
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The room was a chorus of gasps—Izuku is pretty sure the queen slapped her son upside the head, too—but Izuku could hardly hear it over the ringing in his ears. Hot tears sprung to his eyes without his consent, rolling down his cheeks as he let out a wretched sob.
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A casual stance that his mother would surely chew him out for later. “Why don’t you go fall on your sword—and hope you’re born more than a pathetic, low-class omega in the next life.”
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Prince Katsuki Bakugou, his best and only friend, stood before him, face contorted in anger.
“I don’t need your help!” he’d seethed. “Not from a useless Deku like you!”
He’d stormed off, leaving Izuku alone in the riverbank.
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A boy who had promised him the moon and stars—who had even foolishly promised him his hand in marriage. A silly vow that neither could keep. His mother was right, he knew better. But he’d clung to that promise like a lifeline, even a decade down the line.
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a comm for the lovely
@apostasini
!
#NSFW
#BKDK
CWs: 🔞, top!baku + bottom!deku, daddy kink + light dom/sub
In which Kacchan is cranky because work keeps blue balling him, and Izuku helps him de-stress.
"a little R & R"
-----
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They were fourteen when Izuku finally mustered up the courage to ask the king and queen to allow him to fulfill his dream: become a knight. Serving as a knight would allow him to protect Katsuki, and perhaps even make a name for himself.
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Once the bullying started, it never really stopped. It went like this: Izuku would sneak peeks at the prince whenever he could—stealing glances in the hallways of the palace, shirking duties to watch him practice his swordsmanship—and every time, Katsuki would rebuke him.
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Scream and seethe that he wanted Izuku to /leave him the hell alone/. Only the king and queen’s fondness of the omega and his mother kept him in the palace and in the royal family’s good graces.
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Katsuki is rooted to the spot for a moment, eyes glued to the back of Izuku’s head as he makes his way through the room. He can’t speak, he can’t breathe, he can’t even /think/.
Izuku is alive. Izuku is /alive/.
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“/You?/ A /knight?/ Did you forget that you’re an omega, Deku?” Katsuki looked down on Izuku, still bent at the knee, with a twisted grin. “Even if you weren’t, you’d still be /useless/.”
“Katsuki!” Queen Mitsuki had scolded, but her eyes were full of pity.
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“I… am sorry, Izuku, but Katsuki is right. You know the law.”
Izuku had protests on the tip of his tongue. His mother would reprimand him for it, were she still alive—he could lose his head for such a defiance—but this was his dream.
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How could he forget? Twin smiles, interlocked pinkies, a kiss on the cheek. /Someday, you’ll be my bride./
What he said instead was, “A lot can change in ten years, Deku.” He let go of where he’d been gripping Izuku’s shirt, turning away from him.
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He could become someone Katsuki could be proud of. Who /Izuku/ could be proud of. Omegas weren’t normally allowed to be knights, but surely they could make an exception for Izuku. Surely his devotion wouldn’t go unnoticed.
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This was his chance to be someone, and to repair his relationship with the only boy he’d ever loved. But before he could utter a word, Katsuki’s eyes turned cold.
“I’ve got a time-saving idea for you.” He leaned forward in his throne, resting one elbow against his knee.
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Katsuki regretted his words then; he regrets them now, ten years later. He has a lot of regrets.
He’s startled out of his brooding by a sharp knock at his bedroom door. No indication of his destruction of the room a decade ago remains; everything is pristine and perfect.
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A moment passed after he uttered his request to the royal family in the throne room, then: laughter. Stifled snickers from the guards and whispered giggles from the serving girls, and loud, echoing guffaws from Katsuki.
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thinking abt trans katsuki who just. can’t come. it’s not like he’s never tried it before, it’s just that every time he DOES it just… doesn’t happen
enter izuku.
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A waltz. /Shit/.
Katsuki lets go of his wrist, but extends a tentative hand. “...Dance with me?”
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Katsuki had destroyed his whole room in a fit of rage that night, clawing at the walls and ripping his sheets to shreds. His books in tatters, his clothes strewn about the floor—what was the point, anymore? He’d killed his best friend. He’d killed Izuku.
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Katsuki looks at him, eyes searching Izuku’s face. Then, he nods. “I’ll be a man worthy of you, Deku. I swear it.”
Izuku smiles. /And I’ll break your heart, Kacchan./
/I swear it./
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It took him years to realize his anger at the omega was born from insecurities and weakness—fear of Izuku being better, stronger, more capable. That he was an omega just added insult to injury.
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The love he had for him never left, but was twisted—distorted into hatred for a person he couldn’t understand. He’d wanted Izuku gone, gone, gone, until he was—and it was the worst wish he’d ever been granted.
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Two weeks later, Katsuki sits on a throne between his parents in the grand ballroom, gritting his teeth and resisting the urge to set something on fire.
His betrothal ball is here, and he was powerless to stop it.
/Powerless/ is something Katsuki rarely feels.
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Katsuki’s parents indulged his requests for more search parties for a time, being as fond of Izuku as they were, but stopped after it became clear Izuku wasn’t going to be found.
/“We’re wasting resources, Katsuki. We can’t go on like this.”/
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Katsuki running off on his own to “bring that shitty nerd home” was the final straw for his parents. They’d sent one final search party—one last indulgence—to appease their broken son.
The search party returned with the mangled body of a boy ravaged by wolves.
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His parents identified him as Izuku. Katsuki tried to see him, but the king and queen kept him at bay—something about how his underdeveloped alpha instincts could go haywire at the sight of his childhood friend’s desecrated corpse.
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“You keep telling me to leave you alone, you keep /hurting/ me but—did it mean nothing to you?” He looked Katsuki in the eye when he said it, a rare act of defiance.
Katsuki stared at him a moment, stunned, his heart hammering in his chest. Of course he remembered.
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Once, he’d caught the idiot spying on him while he trained, and he’d confronted him by shoving him against a wall and telling him in no uncertain terms to /get lost/.
“B-but, Kacchan,” Izuku had stuttered out, eyes wide and afraid.
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“Wait—!” Katsuki calls out, but Izuku is already gone.
TBC!
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That Izuku looked at him like that just set his blood boiling even more, though he couldn’t pin down why.
“But /what/, nerd?”
“Don’t you—don’t you remember the promise we made?” Izuku asked tentatively, voice quiet.
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King Enji is sending his daughter, and I’ve even heard talk of the Toshinori heir accepting the invitation as well. You /know/ what that could mean for our kingdom.”
Katsuki knows all too well.
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ofc Katsuki’s hand goes up IMMEDIATELY but since he’s such a ✨problem child✨, Aizawa calls on him last, so Katsuki has to watch as the entire class fucks Deku before he does 😳
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Like the forest after a springtime rain, and Katsuki would know it anywhere. Would know /him/ anywhere.
He smells like home.
The omega waltzes through the palace with his head held high, a glittering golden collar around his neck.
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“I’ve already sent out the invitations, so don’t embarrass me.”
“The fuck—you can’t—” Katsuki splutters, eyes wide in shock.
“I can and I did. Eligible omega bachelors and bachelorettes are flocking to our kingdom for the chance to be /your/ bride.
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At her left, a chair for Katsuki.
His mother eyes the bread Katsuki is still chewing. “You’re late.”
“Didn’t want to come.”
“/Katsuki/,” she hisses out. “Don’t you think you’ve been childish for long enough?”
That stings like a jab to the chest.
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Just the right balance of intricate and simple, with golden chains cascading down to loop around his shoulders. His clothing is similarly stunning—not too gaudy, not too plain—as expected from the heir to the Toshinori house.
The omega bows gracefully.
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The crowd erupts into murmurs. They whisper amongst themselves, most of the nobility probably confused at the blatant familiarity in “Akihiko”’s words and tone.
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Katsuki is many things, but /childish/ is not one of them. The bread in his mouth is tasteless now, and he swallows thickly before he lets his trademark anger bubble to the surface. “It’s not /childish/ to not want to be auctioned off to the highest bidder—”
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“You’re not being auctioned off! And you’ve had /years/, Katsuki! We can’t put it off any longer!”
Katsuki slams his hands down on the table, leaning over his chair to glare at his mother. “I’m not getting married.”
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It’s a miracle so many have been vying for the crown prince’s hand to begin with—though Katsuki is sure it has everything to do with the rich mines in their mountain kingdom and nothing to do with his winning personality.
“Our kingdom is strong,” Katsuki argues instead.
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But he destroyed the one person who wanted him for him—and he knows now he has to live with the consequences.
He catches the eye of the youngest Todoroki prince from across the room. Katsuki glares at him.
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As if it never happened.
“The queen requests your presence at breakfast, your highness,” one of the maids says through the door. She knows better by now than to enter without his permission.
Katsuki grits his teeth, but gets out of bed anyway. “I’ll be down.”
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“Sometimes, sacrifices need to be made for the greater good. You would do well to learn that.”
Katsuki’s fingers twitch with the need to grab his sword, or perhaps cast a spell. But this isn’t a monster he can fight—it’s his mother.
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“Her grace had us prepare a lovely breakfast for your family!”
Katsuki looks her dead in the eye, taking another bite of the bread. The cook scoffs. She looks ready to smack him—she’d get away with it, too. A perk of having known the crown prince since he was in diapers.
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“Why should I be /smiling/,” he grits out, “when you’ve forced me into this in the first place?”
“Come now, son,” his father tries, leaning over to whisper in his ear. “Indulge your mother. Surely one of these fine omegas would make a suitable mate?”
Katsuki scoffs. “Hardly.”
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“Then I can rule alone—”
“You know the law doesn’t allow for that, brat!” his mother says.
“Then change the damn law!”
It’s a conversation they’ve had countless times now. It always ends the same—Katsuki’s imminent betrothal is put off for another few months, or even a year.
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“We can survive without them—”
Mitsuki slams her fist against the table. “We should be /thriving/, not surviving!” Masaru puts a comforting hand on her shoulder, and she takes a deep breath, collecting herself.
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What he /really/ wants to say is “tell the old hag she can fuck right off” but last time he’d told a maid that, she’d fainted. It doesn’t seem worth it.
He takes his time getting ready, though he knows he’s only putting off the inevitable.
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“Go ahead, terrorize me. Your mother will have /your/ head, not mine.”
“The old hag is gettin’ real annoying these days, huh?” Katsuki says, chewing obnoxiously. Despite his petty rebellion, he makes his way to the door to the banquet hall.
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Calming omega pheromones fill the room, the scent of sandalwood and cocoa overwhelming Katsuki’s senses. “I know you don’t want this, but you have a kingdom to think of. Your mother and I won’t be around forever.”
Katsuki fights against his father’s scent and words.
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END OF CHAPTER ONE (TO BE CONTINUED)
Ahhh thank you guys SO much for the INCREDIBLE support so far!! I have no words for how much this means to me, seriously. I really hope you enjoy this update and all those to come!!
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Mitsuki’s nostrils flare, and Katsuki can tell she’s trying very hard not to lose it. The stench of enraged alpha fills the room, and Katsuki can’t tell if it’s from him or from her. “Katsuki, so help me—”
“Son,” his father interrupts.
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It’s standard for omegas to wear them—the dual functionality of protecting oneself from unwanted mating bites while also serving as a status symbol—but this one puts the other omega nobles to shame.
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He’s been fighting it since he turned twenty, and he’s not going to stop now.
But this time, his mother doesn’t bow to his wishes.
“Your betrothal ball will be within the fortnight,” she says, cutting at her ham and eggs with a veneer of calm.
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His parents have been badgering him about getting married not just because they want him to settle down—but because they need the connections an advantageous match will provide.
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The Bakugou kingdom is small, and while they boast an impressive military, their trade connections with other kingdoms have been struggling as of late. They are no longer the power they used to be.
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Katsuki rolls his eyes but turns his attention away from Shouto, watching as the crowd parts to let the noble through.
Katsuki smells him before he sees him.
It’s hard to describe the scent. It’s an earthy sort, unusual for an omega.
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The cook yells something after him about /respecting his mother/ or some other measure of bullshit, but he’s already focused on his mother. She sits at the head of the table on a chair befit for an alpha queen, her omega husband at her right side.
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Shouto seems unbothered by Katsuki’s glower, simply sipping his drink calmly and even giving a friendly little wave. Asshole.
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He can wield a sword with deadly accuracy; he can summon fire and explosions in his hands. He is an alpha to be reckoned with. The only other time he’s felt this utterly /defeated/ was when Izuku… well. His face twists further into a grimace at the thought.
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Once his face is washed and he’s dressed, he heads down to the kitchens first.
“Your highness, it’s so good to—hey, what do you think you’re doing?!” the cook scolds as he snags a piece of fresh bread and stuffs it in his mouth.
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“Katsuki,” his mother scolds with a smile, nodding at one of the dukes who approaches the throne with a bow. Always keeping up appearances. “Would it kill you to smile for once? Or at least look less like you’ve sucked on a lemon.”
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He vaguely registers another noble’s entry being announced, but is too preoccupied with his one-sided staring match to pay much attention—until his mother smacks his arm.
“Katsuki, another one of your suitors is approaching—do try not to be as much of an ass as you usually are.”
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None of them want /him/—they want his kingdom’s resources, and the status that the Bakugou kingdom still provides despite its waning status as a global power. It’s been so long since he’s felt truly /wanted/ for anything but his status and the crown he wears upon his head.
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"Kintsugi"
cw: dkbk, trans and HOH kacchan, amputee deku, body worship, insecurities
“Ow! Kacchan, not so fast!”
Katsuki sighs, setting the simple prosthetic down. “Deku, are you /sure/ you want to wear this right now?”
“Yes, now help me get it on.”
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Izuku is an /idiot/.
He curses himself over and over—how could he think his ridiculous plan would work? The moment Katsuki had approached him he’d lost his cool, making petty remarks like some sort of child. It was pathetic, really.
This was /not/ how things were meant to go.
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Mitsuki’s carefully crafted mask falls away as she turns to glare at her son. “Watch your mouth, Katsuki,” she whispers fiercely. “Insulting nobility of this rank could lose us more than a potential match.”
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It’s not Izuku’s smile, that blinding, gorgeous thing brighter than the sun itself. No, this is something else, something poised and intentional and almost sinister in nature. “Reborn, you might say. It’s a pleasure to meet you again, your highnesses.”
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Being an omega doesn’t bar one from military service or academic research in the city Yagi called home, and Akihiko used that to his advantage. In ten short years, he became a renowned scholar and warrior—the city’s golden boy and the perfect heir to Yagi’s fame and fortune.
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But that scent—the scent of earth and rain and /home/—is unmistakable.
It’s him. It’s Izuku.
“I-Izuku,” Mitsuki stutters out. Katsuki can’t tear his eyes away from Izuku, but he imagines his mother is white from shock. “Y-You’re alive?”
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He looks shocked, like he wasn’t expecting that information. Then his expression morphs into something impassive.
“Well, it wasn’t mine. Now if you’ll excuse me, prince.” Izuku brushes past him, walking in quick strides to the ballroom.
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Katsuki glares back at her but keeps his mouth shut, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat. He scans the room. Nobility from nearly every corner of the continent are here, and it makes his skin crawl.
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He stands tall and proud, with an air of confidence Katsuki had never seen in him before. And he’s not scrawny, either.
No, not /scrawny/ at all.
Even through Izuku’s fancy clothes, Katsuki can tell the man is /ripped/.
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Everyone knew of Akihiko Toshinori—the adopted son of famous warrior and alchemist Yagi Toshinori, who had risen into the ranks of nobility seemingly overnight over thirty years ago.
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It was a shock that “Akihiko” even /considered/ attending Katsuki’s betrothal ball.
Now, Katsuki knows why they’d never met.
“Deku,” Katsuki chokes out. He feels numb, his hands shaky and his ears ringing.
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so we’ve got quirkless Deku on a fuckin st. andrew’s cross and Aizawa (poor Aizawa) bein like kay here’s an omega, this is their anatomy, now who wants to fuck him first
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He’s still not quite built like an alpha—genetics always have final say—but he’s stronger-looking than any omega Katsuki has ever seen, even those outside his kingdom who were allowed to be soldiers. Katsuki has a feeling that he’s even stronger than he looks.
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/Went missing. Deku is //missing//, not dead/. His own words echo in his ears.
But no, this can’t be a dream. Because this Izuku is much older—twenty-four like Katsuki—and he is not frightened.
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“They brought back your fuckin’ /body/, Deku!” He knows he sounds wrecked when he says it, knows it probably shows on his face and in the way his hands tremble. He can’t help it.
Izuku’s eyes widen, his whole body tensing.
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Day 1 of
#bkdksinweek
- Altar + Possession!
#BKDK
#NSFW
"black, black, black"
-----
Katsuki Bakugou is not a religious man.
And yet here he is, kneeling in a pew in the old cathedral in town, praying that the demon who wore his childhood friend’s face would leave him alone.
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Yagi's strength and skill as a warrior combined with his innovative alchemical research set him up for greatness, and his unprecedented victory at the Battle of Kamino only cemented his status as a hero.
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Mitsuki Bakugou does not stutter. Mitsuki Bakugou does not falter. And yet here she is, stumbling over her words like a nervous child. Katsuki wonders if she’s been struck to her very core the way he has.
Izuku simply smiles at her. It looks wrong on his face—twisted, strange.
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With that he gives a final bow before disappearing into the anxious crowd of nobles, all clamoring to hear of /Akihiko’s/ relationship with the Bakugou royal family.
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It always seemed odd that no one from the Bakugou kingdom had ever met the omega, and that fact was perceived as a slight from the Toshinoris by most—only furthering the Bakugous’ decline in power.
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Katsuki would say he’s seen a ghost if the man before him didn’t appear frighteningly /real/. It’s not a dream, either, because in his dreams Izuku always appeared the young, frightened, scrawny omega serving boy he was when he died.
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Still, Katsuki is having trouble comprehending that this Izuku is /real/, and not another mirage built from sorrow and desperation. Or a nightmare that comes to him in the dark of night, filling him with images of Izuku’s bloody and broken body.
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I thought you were dead.”
“I’m sure you’d have preferred it that way,” Izuku says coolly.
“/No/,” Katsuki protests immediately. “I—we sent out search parties, I ran away to find you, I—”
“Clearly you didn’t look very hard.”
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