Read on Twitter
Okay so another bkdk soulmate AU because I'm feelin it
warnings for violence/murder
-
Katsuki is the son of fairly well-off designers turned owner/CEO of his own tech company that specialises in weapons/explosives. Recently broke into the prosthetic market, too.
warnings for violence/murder
-
Katsuki is the son of fairly well-off designers turned owner/CEO of his own tech company that specialises in weapons/explosives. Recently broke into the prosthetic market, too.
Itâs a very busy, competitive job, and every so often he takes a deserved break.
No-one knows where heâs going to unwind, usually for a month or so, but heâs sometimes spotted in national parks or on hiking trails.
And he does do those things... in addition to other activities.
No-one knows where heâs going to unwind, usually for a month or so, but heâs sometimes spotted in national parks or on hiking trails.
And he does do those things... in addition to other activities.
The first thing Katsuki does when he arrives is buy a camper van with a few specifics: clean, the engine is in good order, and itâs nothing flashy. Run-of-the-mill vehicle with no standout characteristics.
His favourite holiday destination has to be North America.
His favourite holiday destination has to be North America.
Some incredible places to visit, the open road, and an abundance of easy prey.
The USA, in particular, has plentiful amounts of people Katsukiâs certain no-one will miss. He couldnât possibly pull this off in Japan, but here⊠here he can take his pick of scum.
The USA, in particular, has plentiful amounts of people Katsukiâs certain no-one will miss. He couldnât possibly pull this off in Japan, but here⊠here he can take his pick of scum.
If he feels like it, he can pick a different victim every night, to torture and to mark.
Katsuki has no soulmark of his own. His skin is unblemished, clear. He prides himself on it, most of the time. He has seen with his own eyes how ruined a person can become.
Katsuki has no soulmark of his own. His skin is unblemished, clear. He prides himself on it, most of the time. He has seen with his own eyes how ruined a person can become.
What they can do to themselves, and it makes his stomach churn with utter disgust and the burning need to brand them as worthless.
Because when he hurts them, his mark begins to spread over their useless skin, jagged cuts of lurid red. Almost all of them have soulmarks already.
Because when he hurts them, his mark begins to spread over their useless skin, jagged cuts of lurid red. Almost all of them have soulmarks already.
Their soulmates out there, waiting. Katsukiâs certainly not jealous of them. Perhaps, perhaps sometimes, at home, he ponders what it would be like to have a soulmate. What their mark might look like on his clear skin.
Heâs already been through this bullshit as a kid.
Heâs already been through this bullshit as a kid.
So many thinking they were /superior/ to him because they had some shitty soulmark, so many useless, worthless pebbles that thought so much of themselves for something they never earned, never worked for. Pathetic.
Some had the fucking audacity to call Katsuki broken.
Some had the fucking audacity to call Katsuki broken.
He wasnât broken, if anything, he was better, unfettered, free. And he proved it, clawing to the top of the corporate ladder, a dozen patents under his belt that some would kill to have, incredible power.
Katsuki could do whatever the fuck he wanted.
Katsuki could do whatever the fuck he wanted.
But the first time Katsuki killed someone, stabbed them until they went white, they grew another mark. Yes, heâd heard of marks appearing in extreme circumstances and events, but he didnât realise that encompassed murder.
Yet there it was, like an open wound, inked on their skin.
Yet there it was, like an open wound, inked on their skin.
Vicious and bloody, and he ran his fingers over it, finding it smooth.
Katsuki had laughed. Laughed and laughed because of course he had the power to give people marks. Make their souls linked with his in their final moments.
He gave them something of worth before they died.
Katsuki had laughed. Laughed and laughed because of course he had the power to give people marks. Make their souls linked with his in their final moments.
He gave them something of worth before they died.
And who would guess? He had no soulmate, no identifying mark.
It was perfect.
-
Izuku Midoriya was born with a mark that never stopped hurting.
It was a horrifying, ugly thing that stretched from his shoulder down his right arm, red and wet and bloody. Like knife carvings.
It was perfect.
-
Izuku Midoriya was born with a mark that never stopped hurting.
It was a horrifying, ugly thing that stretched from his shoulder down his right arm, red and wet and bloody. Like knife carvings.
Others had kind marks, like flowers and animals, or interesting, complex marks akin to art. All alluding to the nature of their soulmate, the one they will hopefully find.
When heâs younger, he doesnât understand how his mark is any different.
When heâs younger, he doesnât understand how his mark is any different.
Every mark was said to be unique, so his was just unique, wasnât it? His mother always said his mark was special, like everybody elseâs. Izuku always believed that was a good thing.
And when he was younger, the pain was less. A persistent little throb every few seconds.
And when he was younger, the pain was less. A persistent little throb every few seconds.
Izuku only finds out that isnât normal in 1st grade, when the teacher is describing soulmarks and their characteristics, and she doesnât mention the burning.
Itâs the first time everyone looks at him with hard eyes and scrunched up noses, like he was a bug on their food.
Itâs the first time everyone looks at him with hard eyes and scrunched up noses, like he was a bug on their food.
Even the teacher.
âSoulmarks arenât supposed to hurt,â she said, frowning at him. But his did. His always did.
âIt hurts?â his mother had said, surprised, âwhat do you mean?â
âHow long has it felt this way, Midoriya-kun?â the doctor asked, âwhat does it feel like?â
âSoulmarks arenât supposed to hurt,â she said, frowning at him. But his did. His always did.
âIt hurts?â his mother had said, surprised, âwhat do you mean?â
âHow long has it felt this way, Midoriya-kun?â the doctor asked, âwhat does it feel like?â
Burning. Nothing. Burning.
âWhat can you feel of your soulmate?â another doctor asked. Izuku tried the exercises as hard as he could, day in day out. Nothing. He couldnât feel a single thing.
Broken Mark? The doctor wrote on their notepad, frowning Izuku's way.
âWhat can you feel of your soulmate?â another doctor asked. Izuku tried the exercises as hard as he could, day in day out. Nothing. He couldnât feel a single thing.
Broken Mark? The doctor wrote on their notepad, frowning Izuku's way.
Broken⊠Mark? Mom asked worriedly, holding Izukuâs hand tight.
Broken Mark! Broken Mark! Broken Izuku! The children taunted, pointing and pushing.
And maybe Izuku could handle it, with his ever supportive mother waiting at home for him, loving him regardless.
Broken Mark! Broken Mark! Broken Izuku! The children taunted, pointing and pushing.
And maybe Izuku could handle it, with his ever supportive mother waiting at home for him, loving him regardless.
And he does, he does even when heâs 9 and the pain gets worse, so bad at times he canât move, he canât sleep, his only comfort his motherâs hands stroking his hair. When it feels like itâs being carved into his skin, over and over.
He could handle it. He would.
He could handle it. He would.
Until his mother was no longer there, taken away in some unforeseeable accident. He was 12, and the father he barely remembered finally came home. Long enough for the funeral, to pack the apartment up, and then he moved his son to the US.
And it was okay, at first.
And it was okay, at first.
He was ignored, left alone, but he wanted to be alone. His father was always busy, but when he was home, he always brought strange friends, loud groups that made Izukuâs heart rate skyrocket, staying long and noisy into the early hours of the morning.
And his daily life was no better, mocked for his poor English, cramming in language classes, left to fend for himself by his father.
His only respite when he ducked into the nearby comic book shop and leafed through comics he could only half-read.
His only respite when he ducked into the nearby comic book shop and leafed through comics he could only half-read.
A lot of heroes had their parents die, he notices. But that means they understand suffering and loss.
Izuku canât quite remember when the beatings start. Heâs pushing it all down to get through each day, arm throbbing with pain and head swirling with anxieties.
Izuku canât quite remember when the beatings start. Heâs pushing it all down to get through each day, arm throbbing with pain and head swirling with anxieties.
His father is going through a financial rough patch by the looks of it, and Izuku gets most of the blame. He keeps his mouth shut that itâs the gambling that does it
Izuku considers running away, but at least he had a roof over his head, a room of his own, food most of the time.
Izuku considers running away, but at least he had a roof over his head, a room of his own, food most of the time.
What would that accomplish? He was going to hurt wherever he went.
But the last straw is when his father tells him heâs going to make some money, heâs 16, he should be working by now. Izuku has no clue how heâll manage, but his father isnât talking about a fast food job.
But the last straw is when his father tells him heâs going to make some money, heâs 16, he should be working by now. Izuku has no clue how heâll manage, but his father isnât talking about a fast food job.
(tw: noncon)
Heâs talking about all those âfriendsâ of his pinning Izuku down and doing horrible things to him. Izuku fights back, fights like a wild animal, but heâs too weak, too thin.
His arm breaks easily, and they donât care, not even when he passes out from the agony.
Heâs talking about all those âfriendsâ of his pinning Izuku down and doing horrible things to him. Izuku fights back, fights like a wild animal, but heâs too weak, too thin.
His arm breaks easily, and they donât care, not even when he passes out from the agony.
When he comes to, heâs in bed, feeling sticky and sore, his arm splinted clumsily. It hurts as much as his soulmark on the worst days.
His father doesnât share any of the money. But Izuku takes note of where he puts it. Lockbox, alongside Izukuâs ID and passport.
His father doesnât share any of the money. But Izuku takes note of where he puts it. Lockbox, alongside Izukuâs ID and passport.
Izuku waits. Keeps his head down.
Until he can move his arm again without too much pain and takes the whole thing, cramming it into his backpack with the rest of his important belongings; his photos, favourite clothes and books, his remaining childhood toys.
And he runs for it.
Until he can move his arm again without too much pain and takes the whole thing, cramming it into his backpack with the rest of his important belongings; his photos, favourite clothes and books, his remaining childhood toys.
And he runs for it.
Katsukiâs pulling out of a gas station when his next victim delivers himself. A scrawny figure with a bulging backpack, his left-hand thumb jutting out as he waits by the exit.
Scraggly green hair sticks out from under his hood, enough to make him slow down in curiosity.
Scraggly green hair sticks out from under his hood, enough to make him slow down in curiosity.
The face framed by them is thin and shadowed, but still with a softness that gives Katsuki pause. Big green eyes stare at him, glimmering with hope, lips cracking as he gives Katsuki a small smile.
âAre you going to California?â the boy asks, so quiet Katsuki almost misses it.
âAre you going to California?â the boy asks, so quiet Katsuki almost misses it.
Like a frightened animal facing a wolf.
Whatever. No doe-face was going to stop him, and this was too easy. A backwater place like this wouldnât give two shits about drifters. Katsuki nods and jerks his head to the passenger-side door, and the smile widens.
Whatever. No doe-face was going to stop him, and this was too easy. A backwater place like this wouldnât give two shits about drifters. Katsuki nods and jerks his head to the passenger-side door, and the smile widens.
The young man hops up, face twisting as he maneuvers his right arm. Katsuki can see a peek of dirty white bandages when his sleeve hikes up, and suppresses a smirk.
His suffering would end soon. Sure, it was going to get a lot worse, but then it would end altogether.
His suffering would end soon. Sure, it was going to get a lot worse, but then it would end altogether.
âThanks so much, sir,â the kid says, hoisting his bag up, settling it at his feet. Bursting at the seams.
âEh, no problem,â Katsuki mutters.
âItâs so lucky you came by,â he says, buckling himself in. Left-hand, again. His right must be pretty fucked up. Good to know.
âEh, no problem,â Katsuki mutters.
âItâs so lucky you came by,â he says, buckling himself in. Left-hand, again. His right must be pretty fucked up. Good to know.
Katsuki just grunts and drives out, keeping an eye on the prey in his peripherals. Stupid boy. Trusting him so fucking easily.
He fidgets with his hands and legs, constantly, an occasional gasp of pain escaping him. But heâs trying to stay as quiet as possible, it seems.
He fidgets with his hands and legs, constantly, an occasional gasp of pain escaping him. But heâs trying to stay as quiet as possible, it seems.
Taking cue from Katsuki.
âYou got a name?â Katsuki asks, glancing at him. His hood is down, curls spilling all over, clearly unwashed for some time. Gross.
âIzuku. Whatâs your name, sir?â
Katsukiâs glad heâs wearing shades, so his surprise isnât so evident.
âYou got a name?â Katsuki asks, glancing at him. His hood is down, curls spilling all over, clearly unwashed for some time. Gross.
âIzuku. Whatâs your name, sir?â
Katsukiâs glad heâs wearing shades, so his surprise isnât so evident.
He doesnât want to /connect/ with this kid too much. But itâs a pretty big coincidence that heâs found someone Japanese in the American southwest.
âBakugou,â he replies, ignoring Izukuâs little gasp.
âDo you speak Japanese, Bakugou-san?â Izuku asks, /in/ Japanese.
âBakugou,â he replies, ignoring Izukuâs little gasp.
âDo you speak Japanese, Bakugou-san?â Izuku asks, /in/ Japanese.
He was clearly rusty, but there was such joy in his voice Katsuki grudgingly replies that he does.
âWow! What luck!â Izuku says, beaming, âitâs so much easier to speak than English!â
âMaybe youâre just bad at English,â Katsuki says, and Izuku flinches, hunching down.
âWow! What luck!â Izuku says, beaming, âitâs so much easier to speak than English!â
âMaybe youâre just bad at English,â Katsuki says, and Izuku flinches, hunching down.
âI know... Iâm not very goodâŠâ
Katsuki actually feels a little bad for him.
âYou were speaking it fine earlier,â he says.
âTh-thank you, Bakugou-san.â
He rarely talks this much, but itâs oddly comforting to have a passenger that knows his home country so well,
Katsuki actually feels a little bad for him.
âYou were speaking it fine earlier,â he says.
âTh-thank you, Bakugou-san.â
He rarely talks this much, but itâs oddly comforting to have a passenger that knows his home country so well,
-that can banter with him in his native tongue. If Katsuki had a compassionate bone in his body, he might feel worse about what he was going to do.
But he doesnât. Katsuki goes through the motions, letting Izuku feel safe, comfortable in his presence.
But he doesnât. Katsuki goes through the motions, letting Izuku feel safe, comfortable in his presence.
Until it starts to get dark and Katsuki says heâs almost done enough driving for the day.
Izuku ravenously eats at the diner, and Katsuki just watches, thinking about the roll of plastic wrap waiting in his camper, the tools in the cupboards, zip ties on the counter.
Izuku ravenously eats at the diner, and Katsuki just watches, thinking about the roll of plastic wrap waiting in his camper, the tools in the cupboards, zip ties on the counter.
Katsuki usually wouldnât let his victims far from the vehicle, but he feels a weird sense of debt to the young man.
His last meal as a kind-of thanks for the interesting drive.
He lets the kid go first into the camper, locks the door behind them.
His last meal as a kind-of thanks for the interesting drive.
He lets the kid go first into the camper, locks the door behind them.
Izuku is looking around curiously, nervously fidgeting as he takes in the space. His eyes travel over the bed, stripped down to the mattress and covered in plastic, the zip ties on the counter, the duct tape and strips of cloth.
He whirls to the door, mouth opening to scream, and Katsuki clobbers him across the jaw, sending him to the floor.
Izuku screams as he lands on his bad arm, and Katsuki quickly gets to work, taping his mouth shut and dragging him over to the covered bed with ease.
Izuku screams as he lands on his bad arm, and Katsuki quickly gets to work, taping his mouth shut and dragging him over to the covered bed with ease.
Izuku keeps trying to scream, thrashing and kicking, and Katsuki curses, flipping him over to zip tie his wrists together.
âShut the fuck up,â he hisses into Izukuâs ear, âor Iâll make this worse.â
The young man stiffens, whimpering behind the tape.
âShut the fuck up,â he hisses into Izukuâs ear, âor Iâll make this worse.â
The young man stiffens, whimpering behind the tape.
His body continues to quiver, and when Katsuki turns him over, fat tears are falling down his freckled cheeks.
He rolls his eyes and fetches a small knife, grinning as Izukuâs eyes lock onto the blade, fear clouding his expression. What a great look.
He rolls his eyes and fetches a small knife, grinning as Izukuâs eyes lock onto the blade, fear clouding his expression. What a great look.
Katsuki sits on his legs, twirling his knife with practised movements.
âNever asked ya, but tell me, you got a soulmark?â
A curious shadow passes over Izukuâs face, fear weighed down with sadness. He nods.
âYou donât like it or something?â Katsuki asks. Izuku shakes his head.
âNever asked ya, but tell me, you got a soulmark?â
A curious shadow passes over Izukuâs face, fear weighed down with sadness. He nods.
âYou donât like it or something?â Katsuki asks. Izuku shakes his head.
He picks at the tape, eyes roaming for any hint of a mark.
âI wanna know where it is, but if you scream, Iâll sew your lips together then strip you down and find it myself.â
Izuku nods, and stays quiet when he rips it off.
'Where is it?'
'Right shoulder,' Izuku rasps.
âI wanna know where it is, but if you scream, Iâll sew your lips together then strip you down and find it myself.â
Izuku nods, and stays quiet when he rips it off.
'Where is it?'
'Right shoulder,' Izuku rasps.
Tch. Typical.
Couldnât be somewhere nice and easy, could it? Heâll have to get the layers off.
He drags Izuku onto his side, one hand snaking up to grab his thin throat, feeling his wild pulse jump.
Couldnât be somewhere nice and easy, could it? Heâll have to get the layers off.
He drags Izuku onto his side, one hand snaking up to grab his thin throat, feeling his wild pulse jump.
âGonna need your arms free to get these clothes off,â Katsuki says, tightening his grip, enough to hurt, âif you try anything Iâll make you regret it.â
Izuku nods, frightened eyes fixed on his face, and Katsuki cuts off the zip tie.
Izuku nods, frightened eyes fixed on his face, and Katsuki cuts off the zip tie.
Izuku groans and hisses in pain when Katsuki starts to work off his hoodie, grabbing him by the collar and yanking it upwards. He makes an aborted yelp when his arms slip out, gasping and clutching his right arm.
Itâs covered in a thick layer of bandages, disappearing into his shirt sleeve, grubby and haphazard.
âFucking hell,â Katsuki hisses. The boyâs shirt has âShirtâ written on it in katakana. What a fucking loser.
Izukuâs hand has moved to his shoulder, pressing down.
âFucking hell,â Katsuki hisses. The boyâs shirt has âShirtâ written on it in katakana. What a fucking loser.
Izukuâs hand has moved to his shoulder, pressing down.
His face is still pinched with pain, but thereâs confusion on it as well, his brow furrowed.
âWhat?â Katsuki snaps, and Izuku flinches violently.
âD-doesnât h-hurt,â he near-whispers. Katsuki has the powerful urge to ram his knife into his hand and ask if it hurts now.
âWhat?â Katsuki snaps, and Izuku flinches violently.
âD-doesnât h-hurt,â he near-whispers. Katsuki has the powerful urge to ram his knife into his hand and ask if it hurts now.
âMy soulmark,â Izuku continues, âitâs⊠not hurting.â
Okay, he wasnât expecting that.
âThey can hurt?â Katsuki muses, surprised and intrigued. Izuku nods, shuffling backwards a little, eyes downcast.
âYeahâŠâ
âHuh,â Katsuki mutters. The kid continues to be interesting-
Okay, he wasnât expecting that.
âThey can hurt?â Katsuki muses, surprised and intrigued. Izuku nods, shuffling backwards a little, eyes downcast.
âYeahâŠâ
âHuh,â Katsuki mutters. The kid continues to be interesting-
Said kid then /kicks him in the fucking chest./
Izuku yells for help, scrambling away with surprising speed.
He gets to the fucking door before Katsuki grabs him and drags him back. Izuku elbows him with his good arm, right in the gut, the fucker.
Izuku yells for help, scrambling away with surprising speed.
He gets to the fucking door before Katsuki grabs him and drags him back. Izuku elbows him with his good arm, right in the gut, the fucker.
âYou little shit,â Katsuki snarls, grabbing Izukuâs right arm and slamming it over his knee.
The resulting scream is piercing, and Katsuki slaps his hand over Izukuâs mouth, shoving him onto the bed and sitting on his chest. Wraps his stupid jaw in a layer of tape.
The resulting scream is piercing, and Katsuki slaps his hand over Izukuâs mouth, shoving him onto the bed and sitting on his chest. Wraps his stupid jaw in a layer of tape.
Izuku keeps thrashing and kicking, his chest jerking erratically. Katsuki grabs his left arm and handcuffs it to the bed. The right twitches uselessly, spotting with blood. Katsukiâs mouth stretches in a vicious, pleased grin at the sight, picking it up, lifting it.
Then letting it flop onto the mattress. Even the small movement makes Izuku wail and shudder.
âMark doesnât hurt? Iâm gonna make it fucking hurt,â he snarls, staring at Izukuâs agonised face, âjust you fucking wait, you shit.â
âMark doesnât hurt? Iâm gonna make it fucking hurt,â he snarls, staring at Izukuâs agonised face, âjust you fucking wait, you shit.â
Katsuki takes his knife and saws through the stupid fucking shirt, pauses to press his thumb into a particularly violent bruise on the kidâs stomach, delighting in his whimpers.
He nicks Izukuâs chin with his last cut, slicing through the collar with gusto and anticipation.
He nicks Izukuâs chin with his last cut, slicing through the collar with gusto and anticipation.
Just for his escape attempt, Katsuki was going to carve his mark up until there was nothing left but torn flesh. Where was Izuku's soulmate now? Fate was gonna let him suffer.
Katsuki grabs his right arm to shuck the shirt off, smiling at the answering cry.
âOh, does that hur-â
Katsuki grabs his right arm to shuck the shirt off, smiling at the answering cry.
âOh, does that hur-â
-
Izukuâs entire body feels like itâs on fire, emanating from the white-hot agony of his freshly-broken arm, keeping him suspended between blissful darkness and horrifying wakefulness.
Except for his mark. For the first time in his life itâs not painful.
Izukuâs entire body feels like itâs on fire, emanating from the white-hot agony of his freshly-broken arm, keeping him suspended between blissful darkness and horrifying wakefulness.
Except for his mark. For the first time in his life itâs not painful.
Itâs not just that the pain pales in comparison, itâs that it seems to /reject/ pain, a cool oasis of nothing spreading over his shoulder and cutting into his upper arm.
Bakugou has gone very still, staring at his horrible soulmark, expression twisted into something nameless.
Bakugou has gone very still, staring at his horrible soulmark, expression twisted into something nameless.
But Izuku has no capacity to dwell on it, everything sickening and harsh, careening in his mind, chest burning and heart beating too fast.
The keen sense of betrayal is lodged sharply in his mind, blanketed with shame at his own stupidity and optimism at his 'good luck.'
The keen sense of betrayal is lodged sharply in his mind, blanketed with shame at his own stupidity and optimism at his 'good luck.'
He barely notices the shift from Bakugou crushing his chest to Bakugou settling next to him, leaning in close.
Izuku only realises heâs being touched when a wonderful warmth trails along his soulmark, soothing, calming honey on his aching nerves.
Izuku only realises heâs being touched when a wonderful warmth trails along his soulmark, soothing, calming honey on his aching nerves.
Bakugou says something, Izuku can see his lips move, but the words are all fuzzy, just like his vision. Just like⊠everythingâŠ
The bliss of nothing is short lived. Cold water shocks him into waking, all the pain coming back, his mouth scratchy and dry as he sobs.
The bliss of nothing is short lived. Cold water shocks him into waking, all the pain coming back, his mouth scratchy and dry as he sobs.
His lips arenât locked with cold tape, gasping into open air. Bakugouâs red eyes swim into his vision, red as his hateful soulmark, intense. He isnât wearing that awful grin, his touch oddly soft around Izuku's chin.
Izuku canât bear to look at his face, instead following the line of his jaw, down his neck, taking a small note of the wisps of green poking above his shirt collar. Mustâve missed that earlierâŠ
âOi. Izuku.â
He drags his eyes back, and even that is hard to manage.
âOi. Izuku.â
He drags his eyes back, and even that is hard to manage.
Bakugou taps his shoulder.
âHow long have you had this?â he asks, voice as rasping as Izukuâs felt, âthis mark.â
âBirth,â Izuku says, feeling the fingers on his mark starting to tremble. What was thisâŠ? Some new game of hisâŠ?
âHow long have you had this?â he asks, voice as rasping as Izukuâs felt, âthis mark.â
âBirth,â Izuku says, feeling the fingers on his mark starting to tremble. What was thisâŠ? Some new game of hisâŠ?
âYours?â he asks, staring again at the junction of Bakugouâs neck and shoulder. Left side.
Bakugouâs gaze narrows, anger flickering in his expression.
âI donât have one.â
Izuku tilts his head, staring. He canât manage to speak, so he just flicks his eyes back and forth.
Bakugouâs gaze narrows, anger flickering in his expression.
âI donât have one.â
Izuku tilts his head, staring. He canât manage to speak, so he just flicks his eyes back and forth.
What was he talking about? It was right there.
Bakugou follows his gaze, and his face drains of colour, brows pulling in a glare, hand ripping at his own shirt to tear it open.
He stumbles back, shoving himself off the bed, staring at his bared shoulder.
Bakugou follows his gaze, and his face drains of colour, brows pulling in a glare, hand ripping at his own shirt to tear it open.
He stumbles back, shoving himself off the bed, staring at his bared shoulder.
/His/ mark is pretty, Izuku thinks with no small envy, a thin branch covered in leaves and the small, unopened buds of flowers, dappled green as if in shade.
Like a quiet photo of a tree greeting spring, ready to bloom at any moment in the welcoming sunlight.
Like a quiet photo of a tree greeting spring, ready to bloom at any moment in the welcoming sunlight.
It really wasnât fair, his brain supplies, even a merciless sadist gets a nice mark, and Izuku gets this awful, ugly thing, gross and sore and so red and he /hated/ it, why was he cursed with such a horrible thing, why couldnât he be markless and be happy?
Why did everything always hurt? Stupid mark, he didnât want it, he wishes Bakugou /would/ cut it out-
âShut up,â Bakugou growls, voice trembling on the words. Heâs still standing, looming over Izuku, face still very pale. Izuku didnât realise heâd been speaking.
âShut up,â Bakugou growls, voice trembling on the words. Heâs still standing, looming over Izuku, face still very pale. Izuku didnât realise heâd been speaking.
His mouth felt like it was stuffed with a sock, how did he manage?
Izuku shuts up. His head is spinning from confusion and pain and dehydration, but his shoulder feels so soothing, so close and warm, like he could reach out and dip into itâŠ
Izuku shuts up. His head is spinning from confusion and pain and dehydration, but his shoulder feels so soothing, so close and warm, like he could reach out and dip into itâŠ
He shudders, coming to full clarity, thoughts prodding at the feeling. It didnât stop, ran deep and gold into a space he didnât recognise, somewhere beyond himself, somewhere with pain and sadness and joy.
Bakugou shudders too, clutching at his shoulder.
Bakugou shudders too, clutching at his shoulder.
âHoly shit,â he croaks, and Izuku feels another in the space, crawling and testing like he was, like a baby animal discovering the world.
Izuku feels unexpected tears, struggling out from his swollen eyes, and Bakugou crouches next to him, eyes red, wet and leaking.
Izuku feels unexpected tears, struggling out from his swollen eyes, and Bakugou crouches next to him, eyes red, wet and leaking.
âYouâre⊠youâreâŠâ
Izuku doesnât hear what he is, because Bakugou settles heavily on the bed, jostling it and Izuku's bloodied arm, sending an explosion of incredible pain that swallows Izuku whole.
Izuku doesnât hear what he is, because Bakugou settles heavily on the bed, jostling it and Izuku's bloodied arm, sending an explosion of incredible pain that swallows Izuku whole.
Katsuki watches Izukuâs eyes roll back, face spasming in agony before going completely lax, passing out for the second time that night.
He swears, gaze dragging to the ruined arm, crooked in a terribly wrong way, bandages soaking through with large spots of blood.
He swears, gaze dragging to the ruined arm, crooked in a terribly wrong way, bandages soaking through with large spots of blood.
The mark on Izukuâs arm grazes the greying bandages, the largest, sharpest, most detailed version heâs ever seen, an absolute masterpiece. Of course it was, it was /his/.
Shit, shit, /shit!/ What the fuck was he going to do?
Shit, shit, /shit!/ What the fuck was he going to do?
Heâs no longer pleased by the bruises and old scars on Izukuâs skinny frame, heâs repulsed, heâs furious. Why the hell was his soulmate out here, hitchhiking, in such terrible condition?
Katsuki takes a deep breath, grinding his teeth together.
Katsuki takes a deep breath, grinding his teeth together.
He canât panic, heâs never fucking panicked before and heâs not about to start.
What was in front of him, what was important right now?
One, he had a soulmark, one that matched Izukuâs eyes, that stretched over his left shoulder and upper arm in a mirror image of Izukuâs.
What was in front of him, what was important right now?
One, he had a soulmark, one that matched Izukuâs eyes, that stretched over his left shoulder and upper arm in a mirror image of Izukuâs.
Two, he had a soulmate, had found his soulmate, and it was Izuku.
Three, Izuku needed medical attention. Right now.
Katsuki grounds out a curse, unlocking Izuku from the bed and gingerly wrapping him in a blanket, setting his broken arm on a pillow.
Three, Izuku needed medical attention. Right now.
Katsuki grounds out a curse, unlocking Izuku from the bed and gingerly wrapping him in a blanket, setting his broken arm on a pillow.
He snatches up his phone and searches for a hospital, hissing in aggravation. 50 miles away, 50 fucking miles.
What other options did he have, though?
He glances back at Izuku, still and quiet on the bed. Presses two fingers to his left wrist. Heart was steady.
What other options did he have, though?
He glances back at Izuku, still and quiet on the bed. Presses two fingers to his left wrist. Heart was steady.
Katsuki re-attaches it to the bed with the cuffs. He canât risk Izuku trying to get out.
He hastily pads him with more blankets and pillows before setting the GPS to guide him to the hospital. He wants to floor it, but getting pulled over by a cop is the last thing he needs.
He hastily pads him with more blankets and pillows before setting the GPS to guide him to the hospital. He wants to floor it, but getting pulled over by a cop is the last thing he needs.
The purr of the engine and the cold wind through the window brings him back to his senses, grip tight on the wheel.
Think. Thatâs what he was good at. Well, he was good at almost everything, but thinking and strategising on the fly was one of his most valuable skills.
Think. Thatâs what he was good at. Well, he was good at almost everything, but thinking and strategising on the fly was one of his most valuable skills.
The hospital would be a fucking minefield. They might call cops. They would. Heâd tell them the truth. Heâs a visitor/tourist driving to California, seeing the sights, and he found Izuku at a gas station needing a ride, spent most of the day on the road, talking with him.
Then heâd offered to buy Izuku something to eat, and to let the kid sleep in his camper, seeing how desperate he was.
All true, all provable if anyone deigned to check his story.
Then the kid tripped up the stairs, landing badly on his injured arm. He passed out.
All true, all provable if anyone deigned to check his story.
Then the kid tripped up the stairs, landing badly on his injured arm. He passed out.
But all it would take is one panicked sentence from Izuku to unravel the whole story. For the cops to check his van and take Katsuki into custody. Heâd be ruined.
Fuck. He canât. Heâd lose everything heâd earned, and heâd never see his soulmate again.
Fuck. Fuck!
Fuck. He canât. Heâd lose everything heâd earned, and heâd never see his soulmate again.
Fuck. Fuck!
He pulls over into a rest stop, breathing hard, trying to muddle through what he could possibly do.
He clicks open the glove compartment. Grabs his emergency phone. The one to call if he was urgently needed. The idiots knew what constituted an emergency, so it rarely rang.
He clicks open the glove compartment. Grabs his emergency phone. The one to call if he was urgently needed. The idiots knew what constituted an emergency, so it rarely rang.
Heâd never made a call with it, but desperate times.
No, he wasnât /desperate./ He could do this. The line picked up on the third ring.
âHey, bossman!â Mina chirps, âdidnât expect to hear from you so-â
âShut it, Pinky, and listen.â
âListening.â
No, he wasnât /desperate./ He could do this. The line picked up on the third ring.
âHey, bossman!â Mina chirps, âdidnât expect to hear from you so-â
âShut it, Pinky, and listen.â
âListening.â
âI need a medical transport as soon as possible.â
He can hear Mina take in a surprised breath, and concern laces her voice when she asks, âAre you alright, Bakugou?â
âIâm fine,â he grounds out, âbut my- soulmate isnât.â
âYour-â she gasps.
He can hear Mina take in a surprised breath, and concern laces her voice when she asks, âAre you alright, Bakugou?â
âIâm fine,â he grounds out, âbut my- soulmate isnât.â
âYour-â she gasps.
âAnd no, I canât take him to a hospital, itâs gotta be discreet.â
He can hear her already tapping away, and the distant sound of footsteps getting closer.
âWhere are you?â she asks, voice slipping into a crisp, professional cadence that soothes his nerves.
He can hear her already tapping away, and the distant sound of footsteps getting closer.
âWhere are you?â she asks, voice slipping into a crisp, professional cadence that soothes his nerves.
Katsuki sends his location; nearing the border of New Mexico.
âGive me a minute,â she says. He can hear her talking to others. The minute ticks by very slowly. He can hear the phone being jostled, and Hantaâs voice comes through instead.
âGive me a minute,â she says. He can hear her talking to others. The minute ticks by very slowly. He can hear the phone being jostled, and Hantaâs voice comes through instead.
âBakuboss, which account do you want this through?â
âThe private US one, canât be linked to this.â
âGot it.â
âWhere do you need to go?â Mina cuts in.
âReturn flight, jetâs at the airport.â
âAs soon as I get confirmation with the medical transport Iâll get your crew ready.â
âThe private US one, canât be linked to this.â
âGot it.â
âWhere do you need to go?â Mina cuts in.
âReturn flight, jetâs at the airport.â
âAs soon as I get confirmation with the medical transport Iâll get your crew ready.â
âSee if you can get a medical escort, too,â Katsuki says, running his free hand through his hair.
âYouâre using your alternate papers, right?â Mina asks, sounding completely in the zone. When she took things seriously, she was nigh-unstoppable.
âYeah.â
âKay!â
âYouâre using your alternate papers, right?â Mina asks, sounding completely in the zone. When she took things seriously, she was nigh-unstoppable.
âYeah.â
âKay!â
Thereâs a soft noise, clanking noise, and Katsukiâs heart twists at the sound of a soft cry.
âBakugou? You alright?â
He snatches his papers and leaves the cab. The still darkness is punctuated by the sound of rattling and dry sobbing, yelps. It stops when he opens the door.
âBakugou? You alright?â
He snatches his papers and leaves the cab. The still darkness is punctuated by the sound of rattling and dry sobbing, yelps. It stops when he opens the door.
Izuku looks a complete mess, blankets shucked around him, right arm bleeding onto the pillow. He tries to say something, but his voice comes out as a short, weak rasp.
âWhat is that?â Mina asks, âKatsuki, is that-?â
âCall me when itâs ready,â he growls, hanging up.
âWhat is that?â Mina asks, âKatsuki, is that-?â
âCall me when itâs ready,â he growls, hanging up.
He makes sure the ringer is on high before tucking the phone into his pocket. Izuku tries to huddle, quivering, and it occurs to him how thirsty he must be.
âStay still,â he warns, unlocking the cuff around Izukuâs wrist.
Katsuki fills up a plastic cup, offering it carefully.
âStay still,â he warns, unlocking the cuff around Izukuâs wrist.
Katsuki fills up a plastic cup, offering it carefully.
Izuku takes it with a shaking hand and gulps it down, coughing and spluttering and getting water all over himself.
âDonât drink so fast, idiot,â Katsuki snaps, before biting his tongue. Izuku is frozen, fingers clenched around the cup. Terrified.
âDonât drink so fast, idiot,â Katsuki snaps, before biting his tongue. Izuku is frozen, fingers clenched around the cup. Terrified.
âJust donât choke,â he mutters, fetching a towel. Izuku shivers as Katsuki wipes him off, wide green eyes watching his every move.
A very tense silence stretches between them, Izuku sipping at his water, face contorted in pain, Katsuki entirely unsure what to say.
A very tense silence stretches between them, Izuku sipping at his water, face contorted in pain, Katsuki entirely unsure what to say.
Tentatively, he trails his thoughts to the bond, the new, strange thing he was connected to, and pushes into it, watching Izukuâs eyes widen, his mouth twisting-
BRRRZZZZT.
They both jump, Izuku yelping and Katsuki cursing.
âWhat?' he snaps, unnecessarily.
BRRRZZZZT.
They both jump, Izuku yelping and Katsuki cursing.
âWhat?' he snaps, unnecessarily.
âMedical transport is on itâs way, Baku,â Mina says, sounding a little confused, âIâve sent the location to your phone. Theyâll be at that airstrip in an hour, should take you 40 minutes.â
Katsuki actually sighs with relief. Izuku starts to cough, wincing in pain.
Katsuki actually sighs with relief. Izuku starts to cough, wincing in pain.
âGood, thanks. Thatâll give me time to get our shit together.â
âHelp,â Izuku croaks, voice thick and slowly climbing in volume, âhelp me, please-â
Katsuki glares at him, covering the mouthpiece, but Mina has heard, her tone tentative and worried.
âBakugou-â
âHelp,â Izuku croaks, voice thick and slowly climbing in volume, âhelp me, please-â
Katsuki glares at him, covering the mouthpiece, but Mina has heard, her tone tentative and worried.
âBakugou-â
âHelp me! Help me! Heâs going to kill me!â Izuku screams, before his voice breaks and he starts hacking up his lungs, gurgling out little pleas.
âOh my god, Katsuki-â
âIâm not gonna fucking kill you!â Katsuki roars back, âIâm trying to help you!â
âOh my god, Katsuki-â
âIâm not gonna fucking kill you!â Katsuki roars back, âIâm trying to help you!â
âWhatâs going on? What is he talking about? Are you still-?â
âWeâll fucking talk about it when I get back,â Katsuki says, glaring Izukuâs way as the idiot continues to splutter. Mina is silent for a few seconds before she sighs.
âOkay, bossman.â
âWeâll fucking talk about it when I get back,â Katsuki says, glaring Izukuâs way as the idiot continues to splutter. Mina is silent for a few seconds before she sighs.
âOkay, bossman.â
Katsuki gushes out a breath, âYeah. And⊠good work, Pinky.â
âIâm still gonna grill you!â Mina says, the cheer too forced, her words a threat and a promise. He hangs up before she says anything else.
Izuku stares at him, tears streaming down his face.
âIâm still gonna grill you!â Mina says, the cheer too forced, her words a threat and a promise. He hangs up before she says anything else.
Izuku stares at him, tears streaming down his face.
Katsuki stalks over and grips his chin, but he's so close to his soulmate the bond throbs, sending an unexpected tsunami of awful, fragmented memories.
Bullying and loss and loneliness and so much pain, every single image and feeling soaked in it.
Bullying and loss and loneliness and so much pain, every single image and feeling soaked in it.
Katsuki can feel himself sagging under the weight of it, tears springing in his eyes as a completely unfamiliar feeling of connection rises to meet Izukuâs suffering, an answering call.
Katsukiâs fingers turn gentle, reaching up to card through Izukuâs matted curls.
Katsukiâs fingers turn gentle, reaching up to card through Izukuâs matted curls.
A strange expression falls over Izukuâs face, a quiet, soothed expression, his eyes drifting half-closed. He wishes he could stay here longer, but thereâs an airport he needs to get to, and once Izuku is being taken care of, then Katsuki can start to relax.
âItâs gonna be okay,â he says quietly. Izuku doesnât seem to believe that, but why would he? Katsuki has just had a peek into the nightmare heâs lived.
Before him, before Katsuki. With him⊠until now. No longer. Heâs made enough replacements to feel his pain.
Before him, before Katsuki. With him⊠until now. No longer. Heâs made enough replacements to feel his pain.
-
It feels like years until heâs finally allowed out of the camper, stuck on the bed with waves of pain as they make several erratic stops; each time something else thrown into a dumpster or trash can. Any evidence disappearing in black garbage bags and random receptacles.
It feels like years until heâs finally allowed out of the camper, stuck on the bed with waves of pain as they make several erratic stops; each time something else thrown into a dumpster or trash can. Any evidence disappearing in black garbage bags and random receptacles.
Izukuâs heart leaps at the sounds of cars passing by, of headlights and lights through the windows. As the space left behind turns from black to dark grey.
Bakugou travels fairly light, by the looks of it, Izuku watching with fearful eyes for a new weapon as he packs up.
Bakugou travels fairly light, by the looks of it, Izuku watching with fearful eyes for a new weapon as he packs up.
But, no, the man simply sweeps through the van, packing a very nice suitcase with his clothes and belongings, leaving most of the camper van untouched.
Izuku makes a short noise of protest when his backpack appears, but Bakugou says nothing as he pulls out the lockbox, -
Izuku makes a short noise of protest when his backpack appears, but Bakugou says nothing as he pulls out the lockbox, -
- opens it, and takes Izukuâs passport and ID. His photos, his motherâs ring, what little money he has left, it goes into the suitcase. As does his clothes and his few prized possessions.
Izuku can feel himself crying again as Bakugou locks it, locks away everything he owns.
Izuku can feel himself crying again as Bakugou locks it, locks away everything he owns.
The man notices his tears, and a thrill of fear sinks into Izukuâs bones at his disgruntled stare.
âYour stuffâll be safer this way,â Bakugou says gruffly, hooking the backpack over the handle.
âYour stuffâll be safer this way,â Bakugou says gruffly, hooking the backpack over the handle.
Izuku doesnât trust himself to speak, and looks away, sniffling into the blanket, stuffing it into his mouth as a fresh wave of pain washes over him.
It took everything he had not to burst into wails with every light jostle and bump as Bakugou drove them here.
It took everything he had not to burst into wails with every light jostle and bump as Bakugou drove them here.
He grinds his teeth into the material, bones rattling as the broken ones scrape, squeezing his eyes shut as heâs forced to ride it out.
When he opens his eyes, Bakugou is very close, frowning at him, and Izuku shudders at the humid breath over his bare shoulders.
When he opens his eyes, Bakugou is very close, frowning at him, and Izuku shudders at the humid breath over his bare shoulders.
He can faintly hear the roar of engines, loud, high above, and getting closer. It sounded like⊠a plane.
Thereâs a quiet click and the handcuffs come off. Bakugou bags them and stuffs them in his pocket.
Bakugouâs phone buzzes, and he seems almost relieved at the message on it
Thereâs a quiet click and the handcuffs come off. Bakugou bags them and stuffs them in his pocket.
Bakugouâs phone buzzes, and he seems almost relieved at the message on it
âFucking finally,â he mutters, tapping out a reply. His red eyes turn to Izuku, and he takes a deep breath. The roaring is closer, much closer. Were they near an airport? In one?
âLook, I know you have no reason to trust me, but- youâre safe, Izuku. Iâm going to look after you.â
âLook, I know you have no reason to trust me, but- youâre safe, Izuku. Iâm going to look after you.â
His arm is on fire, and Izuku would laugh if he had the energy.
âNo reasonâŠâ
âWeâre soulmates,â Bakugou says, as if that explains it.
âThe reason⊠is because Iâm your soulmate?â Izuku rasps, lifting his eyebrows, even as the bond ripples with happiness and gentle warmth, -
âNo reasonâŠâ
âWeâre soulmates,â Bakugou says, as if that explains it.
âThe reason⊠is because Iâm your soulmate?â Izuku rasps, lifting his eyebrows, even as the bond ripples with happiness and gentle warmth, -
- âyou expect me to- to trust you?â
Irritation crawls easily over Bakugouâs features, eyes flashing, lips twisting.
âTrust me. If you werenât my soulmate youâd be dead like the others.â
Izukuâs heart rate jumps, fingers twisting in his trousers, any bravado fleeing.
âOthers?â
Irritation crawls easily over Bakugouâs features, eyes flashing, lips twisting.
âTrust me. If you werenât my soulmate youâd be dead like the others.â
Izukuâs heart rate jumps, fingers twisting in his trousers, any bravado fleeing.
âOthers?â
âI enjoy it,â Bakugou says, âyou saw that. I wanted to tear you to pieces. Put my mark on you before you died.â
He says it so simply, so openly, eyes fixed on Izukuâs face, his own calm. Izuku can hear distant voices, getting closer, mixed with the sound of the engines.
He says it so simply, so openly, eyes fixed on Izukuâs face, his own calm. Izuku can hear distant voices, getting closer, mixed with the sound of the engines.
Bakugouâs eyes shadow.
âBut you already have it,â he says quietly, âyouâre mine.â
He slides a hand under his shirt, âIâm yours.â
The voices are closer, and he straightens. Izukuâs mark has never felt better, more wonderful. He feels warm, wanted, for the first time in so long.
âBut you already have it,â he says quietly, âyouâre mine.â
He slides a hand under his shirt, âIâm yours.â
The voices are closer, and he straightens. Izukuâs mark has never felt better, more wonderful. He feels warm, wanted, for the first time in so long.
âAre you going to make this hard for us?â
And heâs so tired of fighting. If everything was going to hurt, would he mind if it hurt with his soulmate?
Izuku shakes his head, and surprises them both by holding out his uninjured arm for Bakugou to take.
And heâs so tired of fighting. If everything was going to hurt, would he mind if it hurt with his soulmate?
Izuku shakes his head, and surprises them both by holding out his uninjured arm for Bakugou to take.
The world is sunk in the monochrome of pre-dawn, the horizon touched with the first stirrings of gold. Bakugouâs arm firmly around his waist, Izuku leaning heavily against him.
Heâs surprised to see the voices are medics, wheeling a gurney on the tarmac, all eyes going to him.
Heâs surprised to see the voices are medics, wheeling a gurney on the tarmac, all eyes going to him.
He yelps as heâs put on the bed, but hands press at his left arm, needle slipping in easily. The pain begins to ease, ebbing as whatever is in the IV soaks his nerves with wonderful numbness. Theyâre talking around him, touching and unwrapping his right arm.
Izuku watches with detachment, almost curiosity, at the thing, all bloody and swollen, stuck with bone, off-white and sharp.
It fades, everything fades; their talking, the dawn sky, the rumbling growl of the plane. His bond hums as he slips away, cushioned in drugged oblivion.
It fades, everything fades; their talking, the dawn sky, the rumbling growl of the plane. His bond hums as he slips away, cushioned in drugged oblivion.
The crew do what they can, and Katsuki puts a reminder in his personal calendar to get Pinky some of those chocolates she likes, hell, make that those shoes sheâs been blabbing about for months.
The medical escort she organised on the flight back to Japan is a literal lifesaver.
The medical escort she organised on the flight back to Japan is a literal lifesaver.
He thought they could avoid anything truly serious, but turns out the bandages werenât just for show. The wound was already infected by the time Katsuki⊠re-broke it, and the time, stress and movement between then and now hadnât been kind to Izukuâs already weakened body.
It starts to take over on the flight home, Izuku falling into a terrible fever, his skin turning a sickly shade.
The medics say itâs incredible heâs still alive. With his lack of body fat, his poor condition and his prior injuries, itâs a miracle he held on as long as he has.
The medics say itâs incredible heâs still alive. With his lack of body fat, his poor condition and his prior injuries, itâs a miracle he held on as long as he has.
Tenacious to the point of defying nature.
Katsuki canât help but feel proud, albeit through his new feelings of shame and remorse, squeezing the sleeping teenagerâs hand, wondering if he can feel the bond even now. He hopes so.
Katsuki canât help but feel proud, albeit through his new feelings of shame and remorse, squeezing the sleeping teenagerâs hand, wondering if he can feel the bond even now. He hopes so.
Because heâs promising so many sappy things he could never say out loud, at least not in front of company.
The moment they get into Tokyo Izuku is carted off to intensive care and Katsuki is left to wait and endure the barrage of questions from his closest⊠friends.
The moment they get into Tokyo Izuku is carted off to intensive care and Katsuki is left to wait and endure the barrage of questions from his closest⊠friends.
He snaps that itâs none of their fucking business, harsher than usual, strung out from over 12 hours of flying, getting only scraps of sleep. Denki retorts that maybe he wonât give him the food and coffee they brought, but Katsukiâs returning glare brooks no patience -
- not for a single gram of bullshit today.
Hanta is still busy with the accounting side of things, using Izukuâs information to put him on Katsukiâs insurance, which heâs... grateful for. If he sees one more form about some pointless insurance bullshitâŠ
Hanta is still busy with the accounting side of things, using Izukuâs information to put him on Katsukiâs insurance, which heâs... grateful for. If he sees one more form about some pointless insurance bullshitâŠ
Eijirou tries to defuse the tension by asking excited questions about this soulmate of his, grabbing his shirt when Katsuki says where the mark is.
âOi!â
âLemme see!â
âHands off, Hair-for-brains!â
âCome on bossman, show us,â Denki says, eating Katsukiâs leftovers.
âOi!â
âLemme see!â
âHands off, Hair-for-brains!â
âCome on bossman, show us,â Denki says, eating Katsukiâs leftovers.
âIâm not taking my shirt off, shitheads,â he growls, so Eijirou just pulls the whole shirt, collar just wide enough to show part of the mark.
âWoah!â he says, âitâs so, well-â
âItâs pretty,â Mina says, sounding subdued, âthatâs a beautiful mark.â
âWoah!â he says, âitâs so, well-â
âItâs pretty,â Mina says, sounding subdued, âthatâs a beautiful mark.â
Katsuki meets her golden gaze, tension clenching his guts.
âWhoâd you leave at the head office?â
âKyouka offered,â Mina says, getting curious looks for her flat voice, âand Yaomomo is supervising the research department as usual. Tests for the new line went to plan. -
âWhoâd you leave at the head office?â
âKyouka offered,â Mina says, getting curious looks for her flat voice, âand Yaomomo is supervising the research department as usual. Tests for the new line went to plan. -
- Everything is on schedule.â
âGood,â Katsuki says, â... thanks for your hard work.â
Everyone is staring now, Hanta and Denki with raised eyebrows, Eijirou with a bright smile.
âSo this is Baku on soulmates,â Denki says, grinning, âalready better!â
âGood,â Katsuki says, â... thanks for your hard work.â
Everyone is staring now, Hanta and Denki with raised eyebrows, Eijirou with a bright smile.
âSo this is Baku on soulmates,â Denki says, grinning, âalready better!â
âWhereâs my thanks?â Hanta says, pouting over Minaâs shoulder, âI work hard too.â
Katsuki rolls his eyes, sitting back in his seat.
âFine, whatever, thanks.â
âWhat about me?â Denki says indignantly. Katsuki can feel a vein threatening to pop in his head.
âYou didnât do shit.â
Katsuki rolls his eyes, sitting back in his seat.
âFine, whatever, thanks.â
âWhat about me?â Denki says indignantly. Katsuki can feel a vein threatening to pop in his head.
âYou didnât do shit.â
Hanta sniggers, going back to his tablet. Mina still stares, and Eijirou is quiet, too, glancing between them. Fuck. He doesnât want to have to deal with this. He shouldnât have to, itâs none of their business what he does.
They simply can't know, no-one can know.
They simply can't know, no-one can know.
But, unfortunately, Mina knew /something./ And Eijirou was feeling it out through their soulmate connection.
She suggests Hanta and Denki go back to the office; Katsuki hates large groups. Leaving her and Eijirou seated either side of him, the fuckers.
She suggests Hanta and Denki go back to the office; Katsuki hates large groups. Leaving her and Eijirou seated either side of him, the fuckers.
Then Mina leans in, voice low and harsh when she hisses, âWhat the hell do you do on your trips, Bakugou?â
âFuck off,â Katsuki snarls back, matching her ire with his own. She wasnât going to win when it came to anger. He was the lord of rage.
âFuck off,â Katsuki snarls back, matching her ire with his own. She wasnât going to win when it came to anger. He was the lord of rage.
âYour soulmate sounded terrified,â she ploughs on, âhe- I heard what he said. What did you do?â
Katsuki clenches his hands into fists, fixing her with a ferocious glare.
âHe was panicking, heâs been through some shit Iâm not gonna share with you,â he snarls, -
Katsuki clenches his hands into fists, fixing her with a ferocious glare.
âHe was panicking, heâs been through some shit Iâm not gonna share with you,â he snarls, -
- âhis arm was already broken and infected when I found him.â
Eijirou makes a small noise of sympathy, face open and trusting. Minaâs wavered, and frowned.
âReally?â
âYes, really,â he hisses, âhe ran away from an abusive parent. Thatâs as much as Iâm telling you nosy fucks.â
Eijirou makes a small noise of sympathy, face open and trusting. Minaâs wavered, and frowned.
âReally?â
âYes, really,â he hisses, âhe ran away from an abusive parent. Thatâs as much as Iâm telling you nosy fucks.â
Mina doesnât look convinced, but she looks conflicted. Good enough, for now. There was no proof of any other truth.
But even if she wants to say anything, a doctor strides over, fixing him with a calm but urgent look. Katsuki recognises him as one of Izuku's attending doctors.
But even if she wants to say anything, a doctor strides over, fixing him with a calm but urgent look. Katsuki recognises him as one of Izuku's attending doctors.
âBakugou-san, if we could speak privately about Midoriya-sanâs condition?â
Itâs bad. The infection is aggressive, chewing away every bit of energy Izuku has. They canât afford to keep the source.
âAmputation?â Katsuki repeats, the word sinking like a cold stone into his gut.
Itâs bad. The infection is aggressive, chewing away every bit of energy Izuku has. They canât afford to keep the source.
âAmputation?â Katsuki repeats, the word sinking like a cold stone into his gut.
âItâs the only way to save him, Bakugou-san.â
An awful, icy wave rushes over Katsuki, chilling his bones, his heart. He can barely handle all these keen, sharp feelings, but he pushes through it, giving the only answer he can:
âDo it.â
An awful, icy wave rushes over Katsuki, chilling his bones, his heart. He can barely handle all these keen, sharp feelings, but he pushes through it, giving the only answer he can:
âDo it.â
-
Nothing.
Chaos. Colour, light, voices and incomprehensible sounds.
Nothing.
His family name called by strangers, bright tunnels carved with torches into his eyes.
Nothing.
Hand in his hair, patting, soothing, and maybe heâs in heaven after all.
Nothing.
Chaos. Colour, light, voices and incomprehensible sounds.
Nothing.
His family name called by strangers, bright tunnels carved with torches into his eyes.
Nothing.
Hand in his hair, patting, soothing, and maybe heâs in heaven after all.
âMom?â he croaks, voice cracking and hoarse, disused, âMom, are you⊠thereâŠ?â
The patting stops, and Izuku tries to cry. His chest hurts so much, his head pounding, like heâs 9 years old again, helpless. Aching for comfort.
âPlease, Mom, donât⊠goâŠâ
The patting stops, and Izuku tries to cry. His chest hurts so much, his head pounding, like heâs 9 years old again, helpless. Aching for comfort.
âPlease, Mom, donât⊠goâŠâ
âIzuku,â a voice says, and itâs too deep and different, but the hand returns, pushing through his curls, and heâs comforted.
Nothing.
Fuzzy, strange. People speaking, but heâs underwater, under something thick and muffled.
Nothing.
Fuzzy, strange. People speaking, but heâs underwater, under something thick and muffled.
They might be looking at him, the pips of their eyes in their blank faces, but he canât be sure.
Nothing.
Quiet, dark. He picks up the scent of fresh flowers, nose twitching, brow furrowed as he muddles through the possibilities.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Quiet, dark. He picks up the scent of fresh flowers, nose twitching, brow furrowed as he muddles through the possibilities.
Nothing.
The soothing strokes are back, and Izuku doesnât try talking, content to feel the honey-warmth seeping down his spine. Thereâs a hand holding his, his left. His right feels weightless.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Dark again, stillness disturbed by the muffled footsteps passing by, the soft beep of an unknown machine. His right hand is numb, and it must be too dark to see it.
Nothing.
It hurts, it hurts, but even as he yelled and tried to hold it, his fingers passed through air.
Nothing.
It hurts, it hurts, but even as he yelled and tried to hold it, his fingers passed through air.
The pain summoned from nothing. A stump hanging uselessly as his invisible, weightless forearm seared. Pinch of a needle.
Nothing.
âHow are you feeling, Midoriya-san?â
Izuku gives the doctor an answer with as much substance as his right hand.
That is to say, none.
Nothing.
âHow are you feeling, Midoriya-san?â
Izuku gives the doctor an answer with as much substance as his right hand.
That is to say, none.
His mind is sluggish from fatigue and painkillers, but thereâs nothing much to figure out, looking at the scarred stump where over half of his arm used to be.
âItâs good to see you so lucid,â the doctor continues, as if Izuku hadnât just ignored him, -
âItâs good to see you so lucid,â the doctor continues, as if Izuku hadnât just ignored him, -
- âyouâve been through a very tough battle, Midoriya-san. Not many have survived what you went through.â
You donât know the half of it, Izuku thinks, still staring at the neat âXâ of stitching. Why doesn't he say it? What's stopping him?
You donât know the half of it, Izuku thinks, still staring at the neat âXâ of stitching. Why doesn't he say it? What's stopping him?
âIt must come as a shock, but, regrettably, it was the only option to prevent the infection from spreading further.â
Infection, huh? It wasnât the only one.
âWe were able to keep your soulmark intact,â the doctor adds, unnecessarily; Izukuâs eyes work.
Infection, huh? It wasnât the only one.
âWe were able to keep your soulmark intact,â the doctor adds, unnecessarily; Izukuâs eyes work.
He can see the flayed-flesh look of his mark touching the edges of his stump. Undamaged.
âWish you didnât,â Izuku says, voice hollow and flat, and the staff around his bed startle, averting their eyes. It wouldnât make a difference, but at least the scar would belong to him.
âWish you didnât,â Izuku says, voice hollow and flat, and the staff around his bed startle, averting their eyes. It wouldnât make a difference, but at least the scar would belong to him.
âI understand this has been a traumatic experience for you, Midoriya-san, and we will be right here with you through your recovery process.â
Recovery. Itâs not like it will grow back. But they said it was infected before re-breaking, so he canât even entirely -
Recovery. Itâs not like it will grow back. But they said it was infected before re-breaking, so he canât even entirely -
- pin the blame on Bakugou like he sorely wishes. His heart sinks at the thought fate was playing with him again.
âAnd weâre sure with a steady dietary and physical therapy regimen, you can build your body up to a healthy weight again. Once youâve reached it- well... -
âAnd weâre sure with a steady dietary and physical therapy regimen, you can build your body up to a healthy weight again. Once youâve reached it- well... -
- I think Bakugou-san wanted to tell you about that.â
Izuku can almost feel his right hand clenching in spirit with his left. No, not him. Why him?
Who else did he have? What if he had to go back? What was worse?
Izuku can almost feel his right hand clenching in spirit with his left. No, not him. Why him?
Who else did he have? What if he had to go back? What was worse?
He canât remember much post-break, recall drenched in agony and delirium, but he does remember Bakugouâs touch, his heat, and Izuku reaching out his hand for help.
Izuku thought he was going to die. What other choice did he have?
What choice did he have now?
Izuku thought he was going to die. What other choice did he have?
What choice did he have now?
âI daresay you two need some time to discuss things; itâs fate he was the one to find you, after all.â
And was Izuku sick and tired of fate.
Not tired enough to relax, not when Bakugou strides into the room, his eyes cold until they meet his.
And was Izuku sick and tired of fate.
Not tired enough to relax, not when Bakugou strides into the room, his eyes cold until they meet his.
Heâs holding a fresh bouquet of sunflowers in one arm.
âPlease, take your time, and donât hesitate to call a nurse if you need something.â
Itâs even worse when theyâre alone, Bakugou sitting by the bed, having settled the flowers in a waiting vase.
âPlease, take your time, and donât hesitate to call a nurse if you need something.â
Itâs even worse when theyâre alone, Bakugou sitting by the bed, having settled the flowers in a waiting vase.
His hand drifting towards Izukuâs hair. Izuku flinches when it lands, eyes wide and muscles locking in fright.
Frustration flitters over Bakugouâs face as his fingers lay heavy, and in their closeness, something /happens/, reaching out from the bond, connecting them.
Frustration flitters over Bakugouâs face as his fingers lay heavy, and in their closeness, something /happens/, reaching out from the bond, connecting them.
Izuku gets flashes of himself in a hospital bed, the same hand stroking his curls.
âDonât,â Izuku hisses; it wasnât right, he wasnât allowed-
âIt- it calmed you down before,â Bakugou says, brow furrowing.
âDonât,â Izuku hisses; it wasnât right, he wasnât allowed-
âIt- it calmed you down before,â Bakugou says, brow furrowing.
Izuku shifts away, his stiff muscles groaning, and when he tries to brace himself he forgets his arm isnât there, dead air where his hand should be. He starts to topple, but Bakugouâs hand grabs his shoulder and holds him steady.
Humiliation and anger spit heat through his veins, flush filling his face as he holds back tears. Pathetic. Heâs pathetic.
Something nudges him, warm and blunt, no, not him, the new bond. Izuku hasnât had this kind of clarity since it was made.
Something nudges him, warm and blunt, no, not him, the new bond. Izuku hasnât had this kind of clarity since it was made.
Itâs so new, so strange, inviting him to open up to whatever was being offered.
Izuku didnât look at Bakugou, shuddering when his hand gently squeezes.
âIt was going to kill you.â
âYou were going to kill me, Bakugou,â Izuku bites back, his heat too thick.
Izuku didnât look at Bakugou, shuddering when his hand gently squeezes.
âIt was going to kill you.â
âYou were going to kill me, Bakugou,â Izuku bites back, his heat too thick.
âYeah,â Bakugou says, calmly, âthis is brand new to me.â
Izuku has no idea how to talk to him. So he doesnât.
âMy full nameâs Bakugou Katsuki, by the way.â
Izuku remains silent. There was no way he was calling him Katsuki.
Izuku has no idea how to talk to him. So he doesnât.
âMy full nameâs Bakugou Katsuki, by the way.â
Izuku remains silent. There was no way he was calling him Katsuki.
Bakugou waits, but it becomes clear Izuku isnât willing to speak.
âSurprised youâre not asking me some incriminating questions,â he says, with a smirk twisting his lips, âor telling me to confess my crimes.â
Izukuâs heart gives an ugly lurch, bitterness bursting in his mouth.
âSurprised youâre not asking me some incriminating questions,â he says, with a smirk twisting his lips, âor telling me to confess my crimes.â
Izukuâs heart gives an ugly lurch, bitterness bursting in his mouth.
What an /asshole/
âFine,â he snaps through gritted teeth, âwhat do you do when youâre not killing people?â
Bakugou grins at that, the red of his irises seeming to glint with delight.
âI own a weapon-development company,â he says, with disgusting pride, âthe best in its field.'
âFine,â he snaps through gritted teeth, âwhat do you do when youâre not killing people?â
Bakugou grins at that, the red of his irises seeming to glint with delight.
âI own a weapon-development company,â he says, with disgusting pride, âthe best in its field.'
Izuku is near-speechless with horror. Bakugouâs smile fades a little, and he leans closer.
âItâs all legal, I sell to militaries and law enforcement.â
He tilts his head, âBut Iâm very much aware itâs killing-by-proxy.â
âItâs all legal, I sell to militaries and law enforcement.â
He tilts his head, âBut Iâm very much aware itâs killing-by-proxy.â
Izukuâs left hand involuntarily reaches for his soulmark, hidden under his hospital gown. He doesnât need to see it to remember every bloody bit.
Of course it looked like a hundred open wounds; his soulmate delivered death.
Of course it looked like a hundred open wounds; his soulmate delivered death.
He glances at Bakugouâs, buds and leaves peeking out from the black tank he wore, wondering how fate could put such a mark on him. So full of life.
His vision grows hot, blurs, and Bakugouâs thin lips quirk down.
âDonât you like it?â he asks quietly.
His vision grows hot, blurs, and Bakugouâs thin lips quirk down.
âDonât you like it?â he asks quietly.
âI love it,â Izuku admits, voice thick with envy and sadness, âitâs not fair.â
Bakugou frowns, âWhat isnât fair?â
âThat yours is so pretty, and mine is so awful.â
Bakugou stiffens, face clenching in what Izuku guesses is offended anger.
Bakugou frowns, âWhat isnât fair?â
âThat yours is so pretty, and mine is so awful.â
Bakugou stiffens, face clenching in what Izuku guesses is offended anger.
âNo, itâs not,â he says, clutching Izukuâs left shoulder, rising from his seat, âI love it. It's perfect.â
âItâs ugly and gross!â
âItâs magnificent,â Bakugou snarls, crowding his space, baring his teeth like an aggressive animal, âitâs visceral, genuine.â
âItâs ugly and gross!â
âItâs magnificent,â Bakugou snarls, crowding his space, baring his teeth like an aggressive animal, âitâs visceral, genuine.â
âI /hate/ it,â Izuku hisses, even as his gut clenches in fear at the flashes of pure fury surging through the bond, âI wish theyâd cut it off too!â
Bakugou tears the gown off his shoulders, hand pressing over the vicious red, breathing humid, angry breaths over Izukuâs face.
Bakugou tears the gown off his shoulders, hand pressing over the vicious red, breathing humid, angry breaths over Izukuâs face.
âDonât you fucking dare, donât you dare try,â he says, squeezing, âor- or Iâll-â
âYouâll what?â Izuku says, tears sliding down his face, âk-kill me? G-go ahead. Iâve nothing left that I care about.â
Bakugou freezes, staring down at him in shock.
âYouâll what?â Izuku says, tears sliding down his face, âk-kill me? G-go ahead. Iâve nothing left that I care about.â
Bakugou freezes, staring down at him in shock.
âThen why havenât you ratted me out?â he asks tightly, âif you want me gone so bad?â
Izuku shudders. He couldâve, at any time, told someone Bakugou is a ruthless killer. But he hadnât, not yet. His mouth opens, and closes, mind sinking lower and lower.
Izuku shudders. He couldâve, at any time, told someone Bakugou is a ruthless killer. But he hadnât, not yet. His mouth opens, and closes, mind sinking lower and lower.
He should, he should, all those people- but...
/they were already gone./
And Izuku wasnât, he was still alive. And he was alive when Katsuki was out there, when Izuku was /suffering/ and /alone/, when Katsuki was leaving /his/ mark on other people, on /replacements,/ -
/they were already gone./
And Izuku wasnât, he was still alive. And he was alive when Katsuki was out there, when Izuku was /suffering/ and /alone/, when Katsuki was leaving /his/ mark on other people, on /replacements,/ -
- making them suffer, when Izuku needed him. Katsuki was making new marked people, he was happy before Izuku, he was free and markless like Izuku always wanted to be, and it wasnât fair it wasnât fair he was all alone and he doesnât want to be alone again-! Not again!
âNone of them could replace you, Izuku,â Katsuki says, voice thick and hoarse, slightly muffled and Izuku presses into his hold, sobbing against his broad chest, âif Iâd known you were out there- I wouldnât have stopped until I found you, soulmate.â
Izuku feels disgusting, selfish, but his heart has felt sick for so long, his soul clawing and screaming for its other half all his life, /furious/ and /betrayed/ when it was carved onto others, even if he didnât know it.
But now he did, now Izuku knew with sudden clarity why it had hurt so badly.
The mark was a piece of Katsuki, all his anger and pride and need, lashing out when it was hurt, lashing out at the bastard that had taken so long to find them.
The mark was a piece of Katsuki, all his anger and pride and need, lashing out when it was hurt, lashing out at the bastard that had taken so long to find them.
That Katsuki wasnât treating the mark as it deserved, as a priceless, irreplaceable, perfect gift, better than any nameless /scum/ he placed it on.
When he had Izuku within his grasp, if he'd just fucking /tried/ sooner to find his missing part.
When he had Izuku within his grasp, if he'd just fucking /tried/ sooner to find his missing part.
Then, the soothing happiness when the missing piece of Izukuâs soul grew on Katsuki, shy leaves stretching out after a long, long winter, tentative, hopeful flowers reaching for the sunlight.
When they were finally acknowledged.
âIâm sorry, Izuku, Iâm sorry it took so long.â
When they were finally acknowledged.
âIâm sorry, Izuku, Iâm sorry it took so long.â
Izukuâs mark rippled with pleasure, deep, soothing syrup. His hand clutches the back of Katsukiâs shirt, blinking tears from his eyes.
Itâs strange, feeling part of himself⊠apart from himself. A kind, friendly, welcoming presence, -
Itâs strange, feeling part of himself⊠apart from himself. A kind, friendly, welcoming presence, -
- inviting him somewhere cool and safe from the harshness of the heat. Katsuki sighs into his neck as they both relax, bond humming as their marks press together for the first time.
/I missed you./
/I missed you./
