↳ bnha one shots || vol. 1

bleeding heart || katsuki bakugou

anonymous said: omg idk if this has been done but: hunger games au with bakugou and his s/o. he belongs to a richer faction and is a favourite of the audience and spends the entire time protecting her and obviously he finishes off his other opponents because he's better- until it's just him and her left and neither of them wants to kill the other so it's just a lot of angst and they don't know what to do (i'm ready to get hurt again) ILY 💖

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A horrified gasp slipped past her lips as she watched the body crumple to the floor, the black head of hair coated with a thick sheen of bright red blood. The figure that stood above the boy - no, the carcass - was shuddering as the gasps from breath wracked their body, the blood coating their arms, legs, stomach and makeshift weapon coated with the same bright red blood. She let out another whimper, curling herself into a tighter ball and pushing her back as much as she could against the tree behind her, watching fearfully as the figure in front of her turned around to face her. The weapon landed on the grass-covered floor with a dull thud, and the figure collapsed to its knees, shaking.

The fiery red eyes that met her own were almost identical to the colour of the blood, and a shiver wracked through her body at the sight of it. For a moment, the eyes seemed crazed, caught up in the thrill of death, but then they softened, the familiar affection warming them up. The boy crawled towards her on his hands and knees, pulling her into his arms and burying his face into her neck when he finally reached her. She felt his tears drop down onto her shoulder tingling her skin when they trailed down, and she reached up to place her hands on his sides, unable to summon the energy to wrap her arms around him.

"He was the last one," Katsuki finally choked out. "The last one."

Her stomach lurched at his words, and she squirmed slightly as she felt the horrible anxiety begin to scratch at her insides, as if oily black claws were trying to escape her. It was almost over - so nearly over - but there was still one thing left to do. One of Katsuki's arms fell away from her, grabbing her hand and placing it on his lap instead, and she whimpered when she felt the rough bark of the hilt of the makeshift knife press into her aching palms.

He didn't need to say anything for her to know what he meant, and she shook her head forcefully. His body shook as another sob wracked through him, and his grip tightened. She cast her gaze over the temporary camp they had set up before they had been ambushed - the gifts of supporters for Katsuki scattered around haphazardly from the intense attack they had just experienced; the blood pooling out from the carcass just feet from them; the two makeshift beds they had made side by side.

"I won't do it," she whispered, choking on her words. "I can't do it."

"Please," he whispered back, his grip continuing to tighten. "Please do it. I could never live with the knowledge that my hands were stained with your blood."

"Neither could I."

Katsuki pulled back, his blood stained hands coming up to cup her cheeks as he tenderly pressed his forehead to hers, inhaling deeply and relishing in her scent, now tainted with the metallic scent of blood. He closed his eyes, but hers remained open, absorbing all of his features whilst she still good. Her heart squeezed when the thought of being without him passed through her mind, and she sobbed again.

"Please, please don't cry," he whimpered. "Please don't be sad because of me. I don't want you to remember my death - I want you to remember my life."

"Kill me," she choked out. "I'm the weaker one - you've done all of the hard work. It wouldn't make sense if you were the one to die."

"Everything to do with this doesn't make fucking sense," he hissed out, eyes snapping open. He pulled away, running his hands down her arms and taking in everything about her. One hand trailed back up, cupping her cheek again, whilst the other went down to hold the hand the knife lay limply in. He curled her hand around the knife, distracting her as he stroked his thumb gently over her cheek. "But one thing is clear - when this is all over, I'll make sure that you're safe. I'll make sure that nothing will ever hurt you ever again. You'll have a good life - you won't have to work for anything ever again. You won't have to starve. You won't have to fight for materials. You won't have to spend your nights shivering."

He jerked her hand forwards, and her eyes widened when she felt a warm liquid coat her hands.

"I promise you that you'll never have to suffer again."

He pressed his lips to hers.

"I love you."

A whimper slipped past her lips as his body fell forwards onto hers, and she pulled her hand away from the hilt of the knife to wrap her arms around his neck, drawing him as close as possible. His body laid still, then took a final sudden breath, then didn't move again.

"Ladies and gentlemen. May I present the winner of the 74th annual Hunger Games."

But she was no winner.