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“Are you sure this is a good idea, man?”
Katsuki adjusts the mask over his eyes as he turns to look at Eijirou. It’s a little—a lot—weird not to see his horns curling above his head, and he wonders if Eijirou thinks the same of him. Pretty good proof that the glamour works, though. The round-faced witch did in fact know what she was doing when they commissioned her.
“It’s a terrible fuckin’ idea,” he replies. “But it's also gonna be fuckin’ hilarious.”
Eijirou doesn’t look wholly convinced, his scent laced with nervousness, but he doesn’t voice the concerns Katsuki knows are running through his head. A hand comes down on Eijirou’s shoulder, and Denki pops up behind him.
“They instigated!” he insists, using both hands to shake Eijirou and not moving the larger dragon shifter an inch. “We can’t let this go without retaliation!”
“Plus,” Hanta adds, adjusting his own mask, “it’s not like we’re going in to kill any of them. Just to mess with them a bit.”
“Speak for yourself,” Katsuki huffs. “I’d be more than happy to kick ass and roast a few of ‘em. Stuck up, holier-than-thou pricks, every one of ‘em. Be nothin’ less than they deserve.”
Two fortnights ago, one of the smaller settlements at the edge of their territory had been attacked and raided. There hadn’t been much to take, but the homes of the people living there had been burned to the ground, and at least forty men, women, and children had been heavily injured. No one had died, thankfully, but the offense would not be tolerated—dragonborn are known for their greedy, covetous natures, but their protectiveness is just as great, and Katsuki’s sire had called for retribution on those responsible. Mitsuki Bakugou would not stand by as her people suffered.
Their people had described the raiders as wielding the wild fae magics typical of those of the neighboring territory, and Katsuki’s blood boiled at the thought of an unprovoked attack being performed under orders of King Hisashi, though he hadn’t been surprised.
The Bakugous and Midoriyas have been at each other’s throats for generations, sworn enemies since the birth of the earth—or so the oral histories say. Katsuki isn’t sure what started it, and no one else seems to be, either. All he knows is that no love is lost between fae and dragonborn, and he’s more than happy to spill fae blood in revenge.
But tonight is not for spilling blood. The Samhain moon is high in the sky, and the Veil is thin; inciting the wrath of the dead isn’t a temptation he wants to indulge. He’ll settle for more pacifist mischief tonight.
His alpha paces restlessly in his mind, ready to play, and Katsuki rolls his shoulders. “Anyway, let's get goin’. The witch said the glamours will fade by sunrise, so we've got all night to cause chaos.”
“My specialty!” Denki grins, giving them a wink.
With that, they turn to head towards the large, sprawling manor that the Midoriya family calls home. It’s a grand piece of architecture surrounded by gardens and forest cultivated by the head of the house himself. Hisashi Midoriya is a force to be reckoned with, his magic so strong that it’s said the only power that rivals it is carried by his heir.
Katsuki isn’t cowed, though. His own magic is nothing to scoff at, and his dragonfire has scorched armies to ashes in a single breath. He could take the fae king with both his arms tied behind his back if he had to.
Well. Maybe.
Entering the grounds feels like stepping into a completely different world. Wild magic presses in against him as Katsuki weaves through throngs of bodies, keeping to himself as much as possible. It’s almost a tangible thing, shimmering through the air like heat waves that he can see out of the corner of his eye, resonating in multicolored hues. Laughter and chatter rises and falls with the music playing through the halls, the cacophony ebbing and flowing in a deafening, symphonic mess, and he grits his teeth as it starts up a dull ache behind his eyes. His alpha growls unhappily at the back of his mind, baring its teeth as Katsuki’s lip curls up in a sneer.
Fae. Always so fuckin’ loud.
His group splits off as they reach the main hall of the manor. Despite the glamors they’re using, fae are just as sensitive to magic as dragonborn, and too much of their energy in one place may draw attention to them. Katsuki lets them go since they have all sworn no bloodshed tonight, and he simply hopes that Denki doesn’t get drunk enough on the mulled wine that he does something stupid.
Probably a vain hope, knowing the idiots he keeps around him, but he’ll deal with it if it comes to it.
Letting out an already exhausted sigh, Katsuki forces the tension from his shoulders and tells himself to relax. It had been his idea to crash this party anyway—Denki’s antics can only be a boon at this point.
Perhaps the coming of age celebration for the fae kingdom’s only heir wasn’t the best choice of party to crash, but it was the easiest: open to all, no invitation needed. Katsuki had heard about it through the soft gossip that always whispers through the outer towns of their territory, the ones that border the Midoriya kingdom and, unfortunately or not, absorb more fae influence than any dragonborn raised in the heart of their home would prefer. It toes the line of treason, for a dragonborn to speak pleasantly of a fae, and especially Prince Izuku.
As he wanders through guests, keeping himself to the edges of the celebration, Katsuki wonders if he’ll run into the reclusive fae prince tonight. He knows only what he’s heard in passing: Prince Izuku is fair of face and demure in demeanor, a perfect example of a high born and bred omega.
Boring, they mean, even if his magic is supposedly strong enough to build mountains from the ground as easily as Katsuki’s can level them to it.
The thought of that gives him brief pause, stories of duality and complements floating through his mind along with the old tales of true mates and perfect matches. He shakes it away with a scoff and keeps moving.
True mates don’t exist, and even if they did, Katsuki’s sure as hell wouldn’t be some stuck up, demure, boring little fae—
“Oh! Sorry!”
Katsuki grunts as he collides with a body suddenly in his way, the mass of others around them pushing them into each other. Hands land on his chest as his arms automatically wrap around a small form, steadying them both until the threat of falling over recedes.
An irritated scowl curls his lip, his alpha growling once again in agitation as he glares down at the person in his arms. “Oi. Watch where the fuck you’re goin’.”
The dark curls beneath his chin tip up, and Katsuki actually wonders if he’s been punched with the way his breath leaves his lungs as bright, green eyes peer up at him, the cute, freckle-covered nose beneath them scrunched as a frown twists the prettiest peach-colored lips he’s ever seen. His alpha goes from snarling to dumbstruck in a heartbeat, whimpering in his head softly as the scent of petrichor wafts around them, clean and powerful and tinged through with sour annoyance.
“You don’t have to be so rude,” the omega in his arms huffs, freckled cheeks puffing out below the delicate dark mask he’s wearing as he wriggles in Katsuki’s hold, but he doesn’t actually make a move to step away, and Katsuki finds himself unable—and unwilling—to let go.
“Yeah, well,” Katsuki says, and trails off. He’s not sure exactly where his thoughts are at the moment. “Still should watch where you’re goin’. My foot doesn’t exactly appreciate it. Have to walk home on that, you know.”
Another heartbeat passes as the omega continues pouting up at him before apparently realizing he is, in fact, standing on Katsuki’s foot. Those green eyes widen as he glances down between them, immediately moving the offending appendage and taking his weight off of Katsuki's toes.
“Oh—I’m so sorry! Are you okay? I didn’t even realize— Do you need somewhere to sit? It doesn’t hurt too bad, does it?”
Katsuki finds himself laughing at the sudden shift in demeanor, watching the omega go from indignant to contrite from one breath to the next.
“It’s fine,” he soothes, pumping out calming pheromones almost subconsciously. A certain kind of satisfaction settles in his chest as the pretty omega immediately relaxes in his hold, smiling sheepishly up at him. “I’m stronger than I look. No harm done.”
The omega steps back as much as he can in the circle of Katsuki’s arms, just enough to allow him to give Katsuki an appraising once over before meeting his gaze again. His grin turns a little teasing as he says, waving a hand toward Katsuki’s general person, “You’re telling me all this isn’t just for show? Good to know.”
Katsuki smirks back, a light, buoyant feeling suffusing his veins even as confusion knocks at the back of his mind. He has never reacted this way to another person, omega or not. He’s never felt so immediately, intrinsically comfortable with someone, wanting to see them smile and make them laugh and hold them close. His alpha usually can’t stand being so close to anyone, put off by saccharine, acrid scents that make Katsuki want to shove a dagger up his nose to scrape his olfactory senses out. And if it’s not scents, then it’s Katsuki’s abrasive personality that pushes others away, too rough around the edges except for the most dogged of stupidly brave idiots to put up with.
Some of it is the innate introvertedness of dragonborn, but most of it is just Katsuki being an asshole. Anger and irritation is easiest to hide behind, and only those he trusts completely get to see the soft, vulnerable underside he keeps behind the front.
But this omega swaying gently in his arms, smiling up at Katsuki like they’re already the best of friends even though they literally just bumped into each other tonight, joking with him and not put off in the least by his temperamental attitude, gazing at him with bright green eyes that seem to glow in the magical lights around them...
A shock goes up Katsuki’s spine, and a thought enters his mind: I would do anything for you.
Something similar must be going on in the omega’s head, because suddenly both of their scents turn tender, wrapping together and twining together as they stand in each other’s arms. His alpha whines at him, telling him to scent mate, and Katsuki obeys without thought, dipping his head down to brush his nose against the omega’s cheek before he buries his face in the omega’s neck gland.
“Ah—alpha,” the omega gasps, a soft little chirp following the word before a giggling purr starts rumbling from his chest. His arms move up to wrap around Katsuki’s shoulders, gripping onto his cloak tightly. “So bold, alpha. In front of all these people, too!”
Katsuki actually doesn’t give a flying fuck that he’s staking his claim on this omega where everyone can see. He bites back the smug chuff his alpha makes at the few scandalized gasps sounding around him as his own purring starts up, underscored by a deep, possessive croon as he licks at the omega’s scent gland, encouraging it to release the pheromone oils starting to pool in it. It’s a little difficult with the thick collar the omega is wearing in the way, but it doesn’t stop him in the slightest.
Technically, Katsuki should have started with a wrist scenting, as it’s the socially acceptable form of public scenting between strangers and friends alike. A neck scenting like this is typically reserved for private, or established mated couples that have been together for years, and even then it’s kept brief and certainly not done in the middle of a crowded ballroom.
But like he said: Katsuki doesn’t give a flying fuck.
His omega—because this is his omega now—doesn’t seem to mind either; he tips his head to the side, giving Katsuki as much room as possible, and just purrs louder as his hands begin carding through Katsuki’s hair, petting through it over and over in a soothing motion. Katuski’s own purr increases in volume the closer his omega gets to his horns. They’ve always been so fuckin’ sensitive—
Both Katsuki and his omega freeze as one of his omega’s hands finds one of his horns, bumping against it gently as he moves it toward Katsuki’s face. His horn that is hidden by a glamor because he’s a dragonborn invading a fae celebration.
All the air in Katsuki’s lungs is frozen as his omega—his fae omega—carefully wraps his hand around the unseen protrusion on his head. He shivers at the sensation, so fucking sensitive, and his alpha practically rolls over to bare its vulnerable belly despite the suddenly very real danger of exposure he’s facing right now.
And he thought Denki was going to be the one to start problems tonight.
Before he can form words—an excuse, an explanation, though how he’s supposed to explain this he doesn’t have a fucking clue—his omega pulls away and takes his hand, tangling their fingers as he turns on his heel and drags Katsuki through the ballroom. He doesn’t pause in his trek, pushing through the other guests with soft murmurs apologies, his pace just short of running.
Katsuki, chest filling with a heavy weight that feels a little too much like dread, alpha quiet in his mind, allows himself to be pulled along.
His omega takes them through the throng to a quieter hallway deeper in the manor, one obviously cordoned off for being part of the home than the celebration. His curiosity spikes as the guards posted to keep guests from wandering where they shouldn’t don’t even bat an eye at the omega leading him into a private area, and a dawning thought, a realization, starts niggling in his head.
They come to a set of ornate doors, and his omega pulls him into what turns out to be a bedroom. The simple coziness of it takes him by surprise, the complete lack of opulence despite the quality of everything in it from the thick curtains on the large windows to the nest depression in the center of it. Most of the furniture—like the bookshelves and desk across the room—looks like it’s still alive, the wood rich and dark as if the trees were simply asked to grow in a certain formation and were happy to do so.
The life and warmth in the room makes him pause, but it’s the wave of scent that punches him in the face, surrounding him with the sharp taste of lightning on his tongue, that nearly brings him to his knees. This is his omega’s room.
And if his omega has his own room in the ancestral manor of the Midoriya family, then—
“You’re the fuckin’ prince.”
His omega drops his hand—gently, so gently—to reach up and remove the mask still hiding half his face. He shakes his curls out of his eyes, and Prince Izuku, heir of the Midoriya kingdom, blinks up at Katsuki with a thunderstorm brewing in green irises. The freckles on his cheeks glitter under the silvery moonlight spilling into the room, his skin glowing warmly under the gentle candlelight as if a sun shines from within him.
Fair of face doesn’t even begin to cover it. He’s so fucking beautiful.
“You know me,” Prince Izuku says, voice soft, careful, but full of strength. Katsuki can tell he’s trying to suppress the instinctual crooning he wants to do now that he has his alpha—Katsuki is his fated alpha, they’re fucking fated—in close proximity to his nest. “Who are you?”
Katsuki rips his own mask off, letting the glamor fall away. It wasn’t meant to last anyway, but the tingle of foreign magic falling away still makes his alpha growl lowly, and he grits back the urge to snarl as itching sparks scatter over his skin as he flings the mask aside. His omega makes a soft choking sound, eyes widening at the sight of his horns curling from his head, but he makes no move away from Katsuki.
Instead, he brings a hand up, and Katsuki’s eyes flutter under the gentle caress to his face, where a line of dark scales curves around his cheekbone. His hands instinctively find his omega’s hips, bringing him close once again and rumbling a pleased chuff when he isn’t rebuffed.
“You’re dragonborn,” Prince Izuku murmurs, still soft, still strong. “Who...?”
“Katsuki,” Katsuki says, swallowing thickly around his own name. Something about this moment feels fragile, like a knife hanging in the air with no predicting what kind of damage it’s going to do when it falls. “Katsuki Bakugou.”
“You’re the prince,” Prince Izuku realizes, parroting Katsuki’s words. Then, as if reading Katsuki’s mind and tipping that knife over himself, he adds, firmly, “You’re my mate.”
Mate, his alpha agrees, howling in something that sounds like victory. Katsuki dips his head, bringing his face back to his omega’s scent gland, and the tension that had crept back into his shoulders relaxes again when Prince Izuku—Izuku, his Izuku—simply tilts his head up again and lets him at it.
“Alpha,” Izuku croons, happy and joyous and elated and all Katsuki’s.
“Omega,” he purrs back, and his alpha crows as Izuku melts into his hold.
Suddenly, all the animosity he’s ever held toward his enemies fades away. Well, maybe not all of them—a lifetime of hatred isn’t erased just by a single good scent—but whatever ugly, nasty feelings he’s held for this particular royal fae bleeds out of him as he holds Izuku in his arms, feeling the way their heartbeats sync up against each other and their scents twine together again, burning wood and rain. Opposites that complement each other, that fit together as natural as breathing, and Katsuki doesn’t know how he has lived his life to this point without this beautiful, perfect omega in his arms.
His omega. His pretty fae prince omega.
Fuckin’ wild. A dragonborn and a fae. Who would’ve thought.
“The idiots are gonna freak,” he murmurs with amusement as Izuku pulls them toward his nest. The heavy, cloying scent of arousal and desire has started to fill the room, and Katsuki isn’t unaffected by the smell of his omega, his mate, going into a premature heat. He can feel the buzz of a ghost rut starting to burn its way through his own veins.
“Idiots?” Izuku gives him a look as he lets Katsuki guide him down into the mountain of cushions and pillows. “Are there others of your kind here tonight?”
Katsuki shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. They’re not gonna hurt anyone. Promise.” Izuku doesn’t look convinced, so he adds, “I give you my word on the fated bond between us that no harm will come to your people from my own on this night. I’m not that much of an asshole.”
That gets a smile from his mate. “I’m glad. Because it would be really unfortunate if we couldn’t consummate our bond on the night of my coming of age because you brought a bunch of ‘idiots’ with you under your idiot leadership.”
“Oi.”
Katsuki has no time for a better rebuttal because his mouth is suddenly occupied, and he’d rather concentrate on memorizing the sweet way Izuku tastes than argue with him, anyway.
As he falls into Izuku, Katsuki thinks about his original goal of causing just a little mischief tonight, just a little chaos, and has to laugh.
There won’t ever be anything as chaotic as a Bakugou mating a Midoriya, he’s fucking sure of that.