#also hey pebbles :)

[lil-vibes]

i caved and drew the cursed shitten and now i love them more than anything

+ bonus one parent on the verge of sobbing hysterically

[cultivating-wildflowers]

ladies, I need to wander despondently across a foggy moor asap

[corru-cyst]

[multiheadcanons]

JUST AN ODD THING INVOLVING THE MEDIC.

cw: blood, marginal gore. tasteful, almost.

blood on your hands was not a new experience.

the sensation this time was odd.

it dried so quickly. too fast, there was no opting for the dirtying of clothes, it was on your hands. dried there, and it almost felt like it was absorbing into your skin. you almost hoped it did. you wanted to blink and watch it go away, and have clean hands.

but they were bloodied.

and as the doctor turned to face you, his own hands bloodied; the excited smile dropped slightly as he met your eyes.

“you’re not having fun with this, are you?”

and words escaped you.

all you could do is hold your hands up.

“oh… oh! aw, poor baby.” he tutted, removing his hands from his own corpse, freshly wet, liquid garnet adorned. how does he do that. just repel blood. how does it always stay so slick on his hands. why did your hands dry so quickly. “that’s the worst. that’s why you stay in the body. they can’t dry if you’re submerged.”

“i don’t… know… what to do.” it’s hard to form the words as you stare at the palms of your hands. the blood was still there, and still so dry. “do— do i go back in?” the idea of sinking your hands, already sticky with dry blood, back into a liquid thicker than water made your stomach churn.

“is this a moral dilemma you’re having?”

“no— well… no. no.” you felt fairly confident in that answer. “i just want clean hands.”

“take one off the cadaver, they don’t need them.” he snickered at his own joke, but corrected when you didn’t laugh back, offering an apologetic smile instead. “we can give you clean hands.” he gently grabbed your hands in his own. “come with me. i hate when you’re like this.”

“like what?”

“sad. it makes me feel bad for you. it’s better when you laugh at my jokes.”

“so you pity me.”

“a little! only when you’re sad.” the honesty was comforting, really. it’s what you’ve come to expect from him as he leads you to the sink, turning the water on. “do you remember how to wash your hands or should i do it for you?” what a thoughtful question to ask.

“can you just— take them off? and put them back on? is that a thing you can do?”

“your hands?” you nod. “i can absolutely do that. it’s going to hurt.” you look at them again and feel bile rise in your throat.

“take them off.”

that’s not something you have to tell the doctor twice. his disappearance was short, as he returns with his faithful bonesaw. he takes your hand, firmly this time, and holds it down on the counter. as you twitched your fingers, they almost feel stuck to the meat of his palm.

“i’ll make it quick. the worst part is the bone. but your wrists are so frail… i’m sure if i place it right i can do it in a single swing.” his confidence made you feel better about the risk you were taking. “take a deep breath. one—”

and did he deliver on his promise.

gone in one swift action; and you didn’t think about it until he pulled your hand away from your body and set it in the sink. and it wasn’t the worst pain in the world, really. is this adrenaline?

“what a wonderful reaction! one more time. keep a straight face again and i’ll give you a prize.” he took your other hand, holding it in the same place. “deep breath in.” he didn’t even bother to count this time, and you flinched. that swing hurt. he scoffed. “you can’t move. now i have to cut through the rest. breathe, please.” as you began your first breath, he began to saw through. and each pass hurt. to the point that your breaths were synchronized with the swift motion of the saw. even after it ended. “all done. i’ll clean them and return them shortly. here, you can even watch.”

you stared down at your now handless arms; throbbing with a pain you couldn’t quite feel yet. and joined his side at the sink.

he handled your removed hands gently, though your arms currently dripped blood on the floor. he paid it no mind for now as he reached for the soap. gently cradling your hand in his own, he began the process of scrubbing the blood from the skin. and as the water turned the color of rust, and more and more of what you knew to be your hand was exposed, he chuckled to himself.

“you know, it’s odd. i’ve never thought about it until just now. you have quite pretty hands.” he mused. “calloused. yet still so soft. they’re lovely.” he turned it over, running his fingers down your palm, opting to rub the soap into the skin in small circles with this thumb. you could swear you felt it as you watched. as he made his way to your fingers, taking care to get underneath your nails. it was a meticulous process he was focused on, and you could only watch in silence as he finished with one and grab the other. “would you mind grabbing a— right. nevermind.” he chuckled at his own folly, and you couldn’t help but crack a smile either.

it was pretty funny.

as he focused on the other, he moved quicker, but did not sacrifice the thoroughness of his work. his brows twitched occasionally as he scrubbed a little harder, but he looked so relaxed otherwise. he was almost playing with your hands in the water. intertwining his fingers with yours, examining your nails, going over and over the same spots he’d already done as he traced the lines of your palm. and you swear you could feel it. you could feel it all. he gently placed the second with the first and went for a towel, returning quickly once again.

“there. all done. look at how clean they are! do you feel better? do you feel better staring at your clean hands?” you thought about it for a moment as you stared at your clean, dry, severed hands on the counter, and back at your still dripping nubs. then back at your hands on the counter. honestly, yeah. you did feel better. at least you certainly didn’t feel how you did before witnessing this twisted act of care, and truthfully, anything was better than that. so you nodded. “perfect. let’s get these back on you, make sure they work, then let’s say we clean up in here and return tomorrow with a better mood and a pair of gloves for you, hm?”

you weren’t sure how to thank him. you honestly weren’t sure if you should.

but you could certainly try again tomorrow.

“i think we can manage that.”

[redonionlover]

havent been drawing a lot of fanart lately so im posting these from around december-ish? i finally got my friend to play rw last year so i doodled some of her Epic Gaming Moments lol she ended up getting all the non dlc achievments!! and i only went insane like 57 times!!

also some bonus misc. stuff. my personal dp faves and silly iterator gijinkas 👍

[croquettish]

Omg i would love to watch you on a kcd2 playthrough on twitch, especially if you plan to discuss the plot, characters, historical context and other things while playing!

That's so sweet of you to say!! 🥹 The idea has been bouncing around my head a fair bit tbh bc I really would love to see how many side quests I could actually do while staying as lawful good as possible (main story exempt).

Honestly I don't think you could get me to shut up about about the historical context or these characters especially if people came and asked questions. Even without questions, any excuse I can find to ramble about the Middle Ages I will take it!!

[hdra77]

Another poll again hi 💀 leaving you guys to decide and ill design him based on the assigned prompt

[flowersandcandy06]

...and NOW here's that art thing I finished for my drawing class today!! (I'm so exhausted :,D)

I got the prompt "a jaguar dancing with your mom" and I knew what I had to do............apologies in advance 💔

(can you tell I didn't want to draw a detailed background for this one)

[me-when-cancer]

Happy Crimmis

Tis the season

[the-king-of-lemons]

did my civic duty for timothy manifold o7

thank you to our brave manifolders o7

[arolesbianism]

Thinking abt Moon again. She and Suns could be exes I think.

[slightlytoastedbagel]

happy because kiddo IchiHona sad because we're never getting kiddo Kohane are we

[httpsxarien]

i will fall in love with you over and over again | katsuki bakugo x reader

summary:

Your quirk was meant to save lives, but with every revival, it slowly chipped away at your memories. Ochako smiled brighter, Deku lingered longer, and Katsuki stayed—always stayed.Even when you forgot his name. Even when you forgot him.

warnings: major angst, memory loss, spoilers!

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

The first time it happened was when you revived Katsuki’s deceased cat.

You were children then, barely old enough to understand the weight of life and death. But when he found you crouched by the creek, his small hands trembling over the lifeless body of his beloved pet, his voice was already hoarse from calling your name.

“Please,” he choked out, red eyes glimmering with unshed tears. “Do it. Just…just bring her back.”

You stared at him, uncertain. The raw desperation in his voice made you second-guess whether this was really the same Katsuki who shoved you off swings and tugged on your pigtails.

But his voice cracked again, and you gave in.

Tiny hands trembling, you knelt beside him, fingers brushing against the cat’s cold fur. You didn’t know what you were doing. You didn’t know if it would work. You were too young, too inexperienced but the light of your quirk flickered faintly between your palms.

And suddenly, she stirred.

Just for five minutes.

The cat let out a weak meow, nuzzling into Katsuki’s trembling hands. His chest hitched with a choked sob as he cradled her, burying his face in her fur.

“Hey… hey, it’s okay, girl,” he whispered, voice shaking. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

He hugged her tightly, arms curled protectively around the frail creature.

And when the light in her eyes slowly dimmed once more—her small body going limp in his arms—he pressed a final, tear-soaked kiss to her head.

Then he turned to you.

Without a word, he threw his arms around you, clinging to you as though you were the only thing anchoring him to the earth. His fingers fisted the back of your shirt, shoulders trembling violently.

But your eyes were dull.

Blank.

Who… was this again?

Your fingers twitched faintly at your sides, your gaze vacant as you stared over his shoulder. There was warmth against you—the faint dampness of his tears soaking into your shirt. But you felt nothing.

When he pulled back, his red, swollen eyes searched yours.

“You okay?” he asked softly, voice cracking slightly.

You blinked slowly. Tilted your head faintly.

“…Huh?”

Confusion flickered briefly across his face, but it was gone in an instant. He forced a shaky grin, nudging your forehead with his.

“Idiot,” he muttered hoarsely, ruffling your hair. “You look wiped out.”

But the faint crease between his brows lingered. And he stared at you a little longer than before.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

Over time, Katsuki learned the cruel price of your quirk.

How ironic.

The ability to heal and revive—the very embodiment of hope—was also your slow undoing. A power so heroic, yet its cost so merciless.

In order to save someone, you had to lose pieces of yourself. Slivers of your heart. Fragments of memories you once held dear.

And Katsuki couldn’t help but wonder—once you were pushed to the limit, would you forget everything?

Would you forget him?

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

Izuku’s body hit the ground with a sickening thud, sending dust and pebbles scattering across the broken bridge. His fingers scraped along the jagged pavement, knuckles bloodied from the fall.

He groaned softly, clutching at his shoulder as he slowly pushed himself up.

“Dammit��” he hissed through clenched teeth, wincing at the sharp sting pulsing through his arm.

But before he could rise, you were already by his side.

“Don’t move, Izu.”

Your voice was light, a soft, reassuring hum as your hands hovered over his injuries. A faint golden glow flickered between your trembling fingers, spilling warmth over his torn skin. Slowly, the bloodied scrapes faded—the broken bone mending beneath your touch.

Izuku sucked in a sharp breath as the pain dulled, his muscles loosening slightly.

But instead of relief, his chest tightened.

His hand shot out, gripping your wrist before you could continue.

“You shouldn’t use your quirk in times like this.” His voice was low but firm, his green eyes narrowed with concern. “You know how it affects you, (N/N). I can handle myself just fine.”

You forced a sheepish smile, brushing him off with a lighthearted laugh.

“Don’t worry, Izu!” you chirped, your voice too bright—too forced. “This is just me practicing for when I become a hero… I have to get used to it someday, don’t I?”

You meant it as a joke, but the faint quiver in your voice gave you away.

Because even now, you could feel it—the subtle sting behind your eyes, the faint disorientation creeping in at the edges of your mind.

It was happening again.

But you pretended not to notice.

“Idiot.”

The sharp voice came from behind you, laced with unmistakable irritation.

You barely had time to turn before Katsuki’s shadow loomed over you, hands shoved deep in his pockets. His voice was low, cutting, but you caught the faint tremor in it.

“The dumbass is right,” he muttered, jerking his head toward Izuku. His crimson eyes narrowed. “You shouldn’t waste your efforts on shit that can be fixed easily.”

You blinked at him.

And before you could say anything, Izuku let out a low, incredulous scoff.

“Wait—did you just agree with me?” he asked, staring at Bakugo with wide, disbelieving eyes.

Bakugo’s scowl deepened instantly. His glare snapped toward Izuku, eyes blazing with irritation.

“Shut up, dumbass!” he barked, fists clenching slightly at his sides.

Izuku’s lips parted slightly, brows knitting faintly in surprise. But then—just barely—he smirked.

“You agreed with me,” he taunted softly, his voice deliberately teasing.

Bakugo shot him a withering glare, his jaw clenching sharply. His hands twitched, sparks crackling faintly at his palms.

“Say it again and I’ll throw your nerd ass off this bridge.”

But Izuku only grinned wider, his eyes glimmering with barely concealed amusement.

And even as the two bickered—hurling threats at each other with all the ferocity of childhood rivals—you knew.

You could see it in the way they lingered close. The way they subtly kept their bodies angled toward you. The way their eyes kept flickering back—searching, wary, worried.

Because they both cared.

And you smiled softly, even as the edges of your mind blurred slightly. Even as you knew you were losing another sliver of yourself.

But you didn’t say a word.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

The use of your quirk became more frequent as the three of you entered U.A. The missions grew harsher. The battles bloodier. And with them, so did the people who worried for you.

You were stronger now. Sharper. Your control over Reverie was improving—you could heal faster, revive longer. You were starting to master it, refining the edges of your power with each mission.

But the cost remained the same.

The memory loss never left—it simply grew quieter, more patient. Lurking beneath the surface, gnawing at you slowly.

It would take everything eventually.

You knew it.

And so did they.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

Your hands shook faintly as you pressed your palms over the woman’s bloodied chest. Her breath was shallow, fading fast, but you didn’t stop.

Golden light flickered from your fingertips, mending the torn skin, sealing the wound. You poured every ounce of strength you had left into her frail body, coaxing her pulse back to life.

You felt your quirk pulling at you—taking from you. You could feel it in the sharp sting behind your eyes, in the dull ache spreading behind your temples.

When you pulled back, the woman’s chest rose steadily, color returning to her face. She clung to your hand, her fingers trembling as she murmured a tear-soaked, broken “thank you.”

You smiled faintly.

And then you staggered, vision tilting slightly. Your knees threatened to buckle, the weight of exhaustion making your limbs heavy and sluggish.

A faint warmth trickled down from your nose.

Blood.

You stared at the crimson droplets falling onto your trembling hands. It took you a moment to register what was happening.

“Hey—hey!”

Ochako was by your side in an instant, her hands gripping your arms tightly, steadying you. Her brown eyes were wide, round with worry as she stared at the blood smeared across your upper lip.

“(N/N), you’re bleeding!” Her voice was tight, barely above a whisper. “You need to stop—”

But you shook your head, a weak, lopsided smile tugging at your lips.

“I’m okay,” you rasped softly, forcing a breathless laugh. You could taste the iron in your mouth, but you still smiled. You lied.

Ochako’s brows furrowed deeply. You could see the tremor in her hands as she cupped your face, wiping the blood from your lip with the edge of her glove. Her hands were shaking.

“Please, just rest,” she begged softly, her voice breaking slightly.

But you didn’t.

You carried on with the mission.

Despite the dizziness threatening to pull you under, despite the way your hands trembled faintly, you didn’t stop.

You pressed your bloodied hands against another fallen civilian’s chest, reviving them for five fleeting minutes.

Enough time to let their loved ones say goodbye.

You moved onto the next.

And the next.

And the next.

Because they deserved their goodbyes.

And if it meant sacrificing another sliver of yourself, you would do it without hesitation.

The man’s sobs echoed through the broken city street, his knees hitting the cracked asphalt with a hollow thud. His arms trembled as they clung to the small, lifeless body in his lap, the delicate frame of his child. Her limbs hung limp, eyes half-lidded, robbed of their light far too soon.

You had brought the child back with your quirk, just for five minutes. Enough time for the father to say goodbye.

But when she awoke, she screamed.

And the father, through tears, held her anyway.

“It’s okay… I’ve got you,” he whispered, rocking her as if he could shield her from the agony she was reliving. “Daddy’s here. I’ve got you, baby.”

The girl’s cries faded into broken gasps. She stilled in his arms before slipping away once more. Cold and lifeless.

You staggered backward, legs trembling beneath you. Something sharp cracked behind your eyes, a splintering sensation as if a fault line had split in your skull.

The world turned blurry.

When you blinked again, the sobbing man was a stranger. The charred street, unfamiliar. You stood there, lost in the very place you were supposed to save.

Katsuki’s voice cut through the fog.

“Hey! Hey, look at me!”

His voice was rough, sharp with urgency, but his hands were steady as he grabbed your face, thumbs pressed to your cheeks, grounding you.

Your eyes were unfocused, glassy with confusion. You didn’t know where you were. Who you were. But his voice was loud. Familiar. Real.

“Focus, dammit.” His forehead pressed against yours, sweat-damp hair clinging to his skin. His breath was uneven, but his voice was steady. Low. Rough. “It’s me. Come on, (N/N). Stay with me.”

And just like that, you were back.

Your chest heaved sharply, a gasp catching in your throat as your mind slowly pieced itself together. Your name. Your quirk. Your mission. His voice.

Bakugo held you in place for a moment longer, his grip firm but careful. His breathing was shaky against your temple. And when you looked into his eyes, wide with something raw and fragile— he was scared.

He almost lost you.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

Then it started becoming more evident as you became the intern of a hero that owned a hospital. As her intern, you were tasked to heal patients, and if you were given the permission to, revive a patient for five minutes so their loved ones could say farewell. The heroine you were interning for, Lady Sakuko, knew the limitations and didn’t want to risk you and so you stuck with healing.

But some families begged you.. And you couldn’t say no.. It was cruel to do so.

And so you paid the price.

It started with training exercises. Lost memories slipping through your fingers. Sometimes it was minor, a name you couldn’t place, a route you couldn’t recall. Sometimes it was bigger.. Fading details of your past, faces you swore you knew but couldn’t recognize.

Your childhood best friend, Izuku, noticed first.

You were in the common room when he passed you a glass of water, his green eyes soft with concern.

“Hey, you okay? You kinda zoned out earlier.”

You stared at him blankly. “Huh? When?”

He hesitated.

“During training,” he murmured gently. “You didn’t dodge when I called your name.”

You blinked slowly at him, confused.

You didn’t remember.

His eyes softened with worry, but he forced a bright smile, brushing it off with a chuckle.

“Maybe you were just tired,” he said lightly. But the concern in his eyes lingered, even when he turned away.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

You didn’t remember your favorite cafe

Ochako suggested stopping by after classl. Her voice was bright, casual, trying not to sound worried.

“Hey, wanna grab those cream puffs you like? You always get that matcha latte too.”

You blinked at her, confused.

“What café?”

Her smile faltered slightly.

“You know… the one by the park? You love that place.”

But you didn’t remember.

You stared at the tiny shop across the street, its warm glow spilling out onto the pavement, but it meant nothing to you. No familiar scent. No sense of nostalgia.

Ochako covered it quickly, her voice bright and casual.

“Oh! Maybe I’m mixing it up with someone else’s fave,” she laughed lightly. “Wanna check it out, though?”

You nodded absently, but you could feel her gaze lingering on you the entire time.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

You can’t sleep.

The rooftop is cold, the wind nipping at your skin, but you don’t move. You stare out at the city, its flickering lights blurring faintly at the edges of your vision.

You hear footsteps behind you, heavy and familiar. When you glance over your shoulder, you expect to feel a flash of recognition.

But you don’t.

The blond boy strides over with his hands in his pockets, his eyes sharp beneath furrowed brows. His presence is strong—almost too much. He carries himself like he owns the entire sky.

He stops beside you, eyes narrowing slightly. “You didn’t go to your café today.”

You stare at him blankly. You don’t answer.

He turns toward you fully. His voice lowers. “What café?”

His crimson eyes falter ever so slightly. His knuckles go white in his pockets.

For a moment, neither of you speak. Then, he scoffs faintly.

“Tch. It’s a shitty place anyway,” he mutters. “Too sweet.”

You don’t know why, but your chest aches.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

The hospital wing is too small.

Cots are pressed against every wall, medical supplies scattered haphazardly across tables. Blood stains the once-white sheets. The air reeks of antiseptic and scorched flesh.

You sit by the cot of a fallen soldier, his blood pooling onto the sheets, soaking through the thin fabric. His eyes are glassy—vacant. His fingers twitch once, and then still.

“Please…” his wife whispers from the other side of the cot. Her voice is thin, trembling. “Please, save him…”

You don’t hesitate.

Your hands, slick with blood, press down on his chest, trembling as the familiar warmth of your quirk pulses through your fingertips. Light spills from your hands, golden and dim, sinking into his ruined flesh.

He gasps sharply. His eyes snap open, and he screams.

You don’t flinch.

You hold his hand as he thrashes violently, as his body relives every wound he has ever suffered. As he sobs and clings to his wife’s trembling arms. As she cries and holds him, even as he begs for it to stop.

Five minutes.

You stay with him until he goes still again. His wife kisses his cooling lips, her sobs raw and broken. She holds him close, even though he is cold.

You slowly stand, legs trembling. Your head throbs violently, and your vision briefly tilts sideways. Your hands shake so violently you barely manage to wipe the blood from your cheek.

“(N/N)!”

You don’t register the voice at first. The words are muffled, distant, until a pair of arms suddenly wrap around you.

Ochako.

You blink slowly, trying to focus on her face, but her features swim and blur. For a brief, disorienting moment, she is a stranger.

Her hands grip your arms tightly, her voice trembling. “You’ve been overworking yourself at the hospital… (N/N), you should remember to pick who you revive. You can’t save all of them.”

Your voice is barely above a whisper. “But I can.”

Her eyes burn with tears. She shakes her head weakly. “And it’s taking a toll on you!” Her voice cracks as she tightens her grip. “You’re my best friend, (N/N)… I know that it’s selfish… but sometimes… people go.”

Her voice breaks on the last word.

You just stare at her, your breath shallow. You want to hold her. To promise her you’re fine.

But you don’t.

Because you can’t remember if you are.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

You’re slipping.

You can’t remember your name. You can’t remember the mission. You can’t remember why you’re here.

But you know you need to keep moving.

Your legs shake as you stumble forward, your body screaming in protest. Each step feels heavier, each breath shallower, but you don’t stop.

You press your trembling hands to the bodies littered across the battlefield, summoning every ounce of power left in you.

You revive them.

Again. And again. And again.

You don’t think. You don’t breathe. You just do.

And then you find him.

His body is crumpled against the ground, blood pooling beneath him. His gauntlet is cracked, sparking faintly with remnants of his quirk. His hand lies slack around the grip. His eyes are closed.

You don’t know who he is.

But your heart shatters.

You fall to your knees beside him. Your fingers tremble violently as you press them against his chest. His blood seeps into your skin, warm and sticky, but you don’t care.

You don’t understand why you’re crying. You don’t know why it hurts so much.

But it does.

Your hands shake so violently you can barely summon the light. It flickers faintly at your fingertips, sputtering weakly. You’re too far gone. You barely have anything left.

And still, you pour everything into him. Every drop of strength, every broken piece of yourself, every memory you don’t even have anymore.

“Please,” you choke softly, voice cracked and trembling. “Please, just… come back.”

You’re not sure if you’re speaking to him, or to yourself.

You press harder, ignoring the searing pain in your arms, the tremor in your shoulders. Your vision blurs with tears you don’t understand, spilling hot and fast down your cheeks.

And then he gasps sharply, his eyes flying open with a sudden, broken breath.

You let out a strangled sob.

His chest heaves with shallow, ragged breaths. His eyes—crimson and glassy—flicker hazily to you, unfocused and wide with confusion. Blood clings to his lips, his skin pale from blood loss.

But he is alive.

And then you smile.

Tears slip down your cheeks, your eyes blurry, but you smile anyway. You let out a shaky, broken laugh, soft and breathless—because he’s breathing.

Your trembling fingers brush over his blood-matted hair, pushing the damp strands from his face. Your hands linger, trembling faintly against his skin.

You stare at the face you don’t recognize.

But somehow, somehow, it still feels familiar.

Your voice is barely above a whisper, soft and fragile, breaking faintly over the words.

“I think I loved you before.”

Bakugo Katsuki allows himself to cry.

Because you still do.

Even if you don’t remember.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

The war was over.

The scars it left behind were not.

U.A. slowly stitched itself back together. The halls were quieter now. The seats emptier. The classrooms once filled with voices and laughter now carried a somber stillness.

But you were alive.

And so were they.

You sat by the window in the classroom, the sunlight spilling weakly across your desk, warming your hands. The soft murmur of your classmates lingered faintly around you, their voices dull and distant. You watched them quietly. The way they moved, the way they smiled, the way their hands trembled slightly when they thought no one was looking.

They were familiar strangers.

You knew their names because they told you. You knew their faces because they showed you old photos. You knew their stories because they sat beside you and spoke softly, laughing through their tears, hoping you would remember.

But you didn’t.

You couldn’t.

No matter how hard you tried, it was all blank.

You stared down at your notebook, the lines empty. The words wouldn’t come. Your fingers trembled slightly against the pen, your chest tightening with something sharp and suffocating.

You clutched the pen harder.

And then you heard someone sniffle.

You glanced up, eyes widening slightly.

Ochako sat beside you, her hand pressed to her mouth, trying to stifle the small, broken sound. Her eyes were red, tears clinging to her lashes, falling despite her best efforts to hold them back.

You blinked slowly, confused.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered softly, your voice cracking faintly. Your eyes flickered around the room. Izuku, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his sleeve, trying to smile for you. Kirishima, clenching his jaw as his hands fisted faintly on his desk, his knuckles white. Mina, her face buried in her arms, shoulders trembling softly.

And then you looked at Katsuki.

You didn’t know why, but you couldn’t look away.

There was no pain on his face. No tears. No trace of sadness.

Just tenderness. Raw and steady.

You stared at him with so much love, like your heart remembered what your mind had forgotten. Like somewhere, in the hollow of your chest, you still knew him.

And you tried so hard.

You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing yourself to remember—to claw through the blank spaces, to tear through the fog—desperate to find even the smallest flicker of a memory.

But nothing came.

Just empty, aching silence.

You pressed your palms against your eyes, your shoulders trembling slightly. A broken sob caught in your throat, and you shook your head sharply, voice small and broken.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out softly. “I’m so sorry. I—I can’t remember. I—”

You covered your face with your hands, hot tears slipping between your trembling fingers. You tried to stop them, tried to breathe through the suffocating weight in your chest.

“I’m trying so hard,” you whispered shakily. “I want to remember, I do. But I—I can’t. I can’t remember any of you.”

Your voice cracked painfully as you lowered your hands, your eyes desperate and glassy. You clutched the fabric of your shirt over your chest, knuckles pale from how hard you squeezed.

“And I’m so sorry…” your voice broke completely, trembling and raw, “for forgetting you.”

And then you felt warmth.

Arms wrapping around you.

Steady. Strong. Familiar.

You felt Katsuki’s hands cradle the back of your head, his fingers slipping into your hair, holding you gently against his chest.

Your trembling hands fisted weakly into his shirt, clinging to him, your tears soaking into the fabric. You shook faintly in his arms, and he just held you tighter.

He pressed his lips softly against the crown of your head.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice rough and low, but gentle. “You don’t have to remember.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, burying your face deeper into his chest, tears falling freely.

He stroked your hair softly, his voice breaking faintly as he held you closer.

“We’ll just make new memories together.”

You hiccupped softly against him, and his arms tightened faintly around you.

“We have time,” he murmured against your temple. “We have forever.”

And so you broke completely in his arms.

Because even if you didn’t remember who he was, you still knew him.

THE END.

[sevsgiirl]

— i could see you being my addiction.

sevika week 2025: shimmer strap, day 3.

synopsis: giving up shimmer was a personal choice for sevika. she used it but she could very much live without it, which she had to - but using it one last time just for fun wouldn’t hurt.

word count: 2.7k

tags: top!sevika, bottom!reader, strap-ons referred to as cock, lotsss of degrading, overall this is just very filthy.

note: happy day 3 of sevikaaaa week!! the prompt I chose for today is shimmer strap so of course I had to make this as nasty as possible (as if yesterday wasn’t already enough) either way, I hope you guys like this!

withdrawals can be a bitch.

it’s been a while since sevika touched even a vial of shimmer. ever since silco died, she didn’t see a point in using it any longer. as she only fueled her prosthetic with it as a way to enhance her senses to gain leverage in fights - it was something silco suggested, and one she stuck to as a way to appease the older man.

it became a necessity to her at one point. but ever since the under city went in shambles due to silco’s passing and the chembarons took over his place, she realized if she was going to help the people of zaun overcome these tragedies, she needed to be different from the ones who made them suffer. who got them addicted to the drug in the first place.

but years have passed and she was now a councilor in piltover. she couldn’t even remember the last time she took a minuscule of the drug and the more she thought about it, it’s likely for the best. taking it had its advantages but the cons still outweighed the pros.

it wasn’t until late one afternoon during her day off that she got a letter addressed to her from ran - saying they cleared out the remaining supplies of shimmer in zaun.

“hey, what’s that?” she turned around to see you emerge from your shared bedroom while she stood by the entrance of your home.

you wore nothing but a pair of skimpy sleep shorts as well as a thin tank top that barely hid the way your nipples pebbled from beneath the fabric.

she bit the inside of her cheek at the sight before she refocused her attention on the letter, along with the package it came with.

“a letter. ran mailed it and apparently any supplies of shimmer left had finally been wiped out.” she informed as your eyes widened.

“that’s great,” you said as sevika lets out a chuckle “what?”

she shook her head “as long as singed is still alive and walking freely I doubt any remains of that shit had actually been wiped clean. it’ll just be harder to obtain it but trust me, there’s still some out there.”

you sighed “well, it’s better to have that than to have the lanes flooded with it.”

you gestured to the package by the front door “how about that?”

sevika shrugged, eyeing the package warily before she looked at the letter again and saw that ran scribbled something below.

“also, here’s a little something I found from smeech’s inventory that you might be interested in.” she read aloud as you raised an eyebrow.

sevika carefully peeled the tape off from the box and opened it, revealing a metal case inside as her eyebrows furrowed.

she took it out and undid the lock, weirdly nervous about what was inside until it dawned on her what it was…

it was shimmer.

which wouldn’t have been a big deal if it weren’t for the way the shimmer was contained.

“what the fuck is that?” you said in disbelief when your eyes adjusted to the sight of the harness and the long, glowing shaft that was attached to it “is that…” and when you stepped closer, your assumptions were proven correct.

because inside laid not just shimmer, but shimmer that was inside a fucking dildo.

“holy shit,” sevika muttered in awe as she eyed the toy “I didn’t think that rodent asshole would actually make it.”

“why would smeech-wait, hold on.” you paused in your ranting as you gaped at sevika “what do you mean?”

for a second, sevika felt embarrassed under your scrutinizing gaze as she rubbed the back of her neck “well, the thing is I may or may have not… asked smeech and his goons to make this for me. in the past.”

your jaw fell open “why would you ask him for something like that?”

“it was just out of curiosity, okay?” she said defensively “I didn’t think he’d listen and I thought that if he did, is that he would’ve sold it to some rich bastard here at topside for a higher price.”

you were at loss for words for a second before you waved her off dismissively.

“it doesn’t matter,” you said, exasperated “just throw it out. I don’t even know why ran sent it here in the first place.”

there was a brief pause as sevika stayed silent “sev?” you stared her down “you are throwing it out, right?“

she pursed her lips, still clutching the toy in her hand “okay listen-“

“nope. nuh uh.” you didn’t even let her finish before you started walking away.

“oh baby, come on.” she threw her hands up “I don’t like shimmer anymore just as much as you do, but remember when you said you wanted to experiment more-“

“yeah, but not with anything involving that,” you exclaimed “we promised neither one of us are touching even a drop of shimmer anymore, sev.”

“I know, but it’s just… look it’d be a waste to just throw it away. what if we just, I don’t know, have fun with it first before we say goodbye for good?” she suggested, the corners of her lips pulling into a smirk.

“you’re ridiculous,” you rolled your eyes at her as she only laughed.

she stood up and made her way to you, her strong arms wrapping around your waist as your back met her chest. her lips ghosting over the skin of your neck as she gave it a gentle kiss, making your spine tingle.

“it’ll be just for tonight,” she whispered, her voice low and enticing “the only reason I asked that asshole to make it for me was because of you, and let’s be honest with ourselves for a second…”

her hand suddenly cupped your jaw as she tilted it sideways so you’d look at her, and there was a glint of mischief in her steely grey eyes that meant one thing and one thing only.

“… since when have you ever turned down taking my cock, huh?” she mused.

you blushed furiously at her words, scoffing “you’re such an asshole, sev.”

she quirked a brow, challenging you “but am I wrong?”

there was a stretch of silence that hang over the room, and she knew she had already won you over.

“I thought so,” she grinned “come on, baby. I know deep down you’re curious too.”

you were about to protest, really you wanted to, but the more you pondered over the idea, the harder it was to fight against it.

and when you found yourself unable to argue, sevika knew she already won.

𐙚˙⋆.˚

you didn’t expect to spend your saturday night like this.

you’d like to think you put up a fight but by the way your knees were firmly planted on the carpeted floor of your bedroom as sevika stood in front of you, all tall and smug, you knew your efforts were futile.

“this is a crazy idea, you know.” you said, but judging by the way you were biting your lip while sevika fastened the strap-on around her hips while the silicone cock glowed bright and purple, she knew you didn’t actually mean it.

she smirked, hand gripping the base of the shaft as her fingers moved back and forth, causing the toy to buzz slightly as you gawked at it.

“whatever you say, sweetheart,” she smirked as she took the tip of her cock and tapped it lightly against your lower lip, making you gasp “but we both know you don’t mean it. now be a good little slut and strip.”

your cheeks grew hot and you wanted to talk back - to not go through with this just to get on her nerves, but if the dampness in your underwear was anything to go by, you knew you’d only frustrate yourself just as much.

so you reached behind you and unclasped the hook of your bra, letting it fall slowly down your shoulders as it hit the floor.

sevika took a deep breath, her eyes zeroed in on your tits “fuck, look at you.”

you rubbed your thighs together to soothe the throbbing in your cunt, which didn’t go unnoticed by sevika as she chuckled.

“press them together,”

your lips parted as you looked down at your breasts then up at her, almost as if asking for confirmation to which she only raised an eyebrow.

you gulped, cupping both of your tits in your hands as you pushed them up like an invitation, one that sevika was more than happy to take as she grabbed her cock and pushed them in between the tight valley of your tits and began thrusting.

it was downright filthy, especially with the way the littlest bit of shimmer started dripping down your tits, making sevika groan as she set a slow but steady pace.

“look at you. such perfect fucking tits,” she took her bottom lip between her teeth, throwing her head back as you let out a desperate whine.

“sevi…” you moaned when the gentle strokes of her cock became harsher, the back of the harness hitting her clit just right as she chased her own release meanwhile you remained in your position, letting her use you for her pleasure.

“fuckkk, that’s it,” she drawled out, watching the way the shimmer from the tip leaked out and dribbled slowly down to your heaving chest as you looked up at her with pleading eyes.

“sev, please.” you begged as she cooed at you.

“thought you said this wasn’t a good idea?”

you pouted, glaring up at her which she only found amusing “I swear, if you don’t-“

you couldn’t even finish your sentence before she abruptly pulled you by your elbow and forced you back up on your feet, pushing you down onto the bed as your legs dangled from the edge, hiking them up her shoulders as she took both sides of your underwear and started sliding them off.

she couldn’t help the way her cunt throbbed seeing how soaked you were “damn, this wet and we haven’t even started yet,” she said in a cocky tone as you scowled at her.

and she knew her words were getting to you, so before you could even spew out another snarky comment, her mouth was quick to wrap itself around your aching clit.

you cried out as your hands flew to grip her short hair, grinding against her face as sevika hummed while slurping every drop of your slick.

“fuck, you taste so good.” she panted, her cheeks flushed and pupils blown wide, staring up at you as your mouth fell open.

making eye contact while she ate your pussy out like a woman starved.

your thighs shook against each side of her head, using them to trap her in place and you could’ve suffocated her right here and there, but she didn’t care - too blissed out from the taste of you that she was only focused on pushing you to your awaited climax.

“I’m close, I’m so fucking close…” your back arched and it was almost like a dam broke out, your release coating her nose down to her chin as you came relentlessly.

all the while sevika lets out a hum as she kept licking up your fluttering folds.

“so good for me,” she grunted, getting up as she sat her knees on the edge of the bed and wrapped your shaking legs around her waist.

her mech arm gripping your hip tightly while the other parted one leg away so you were left bare open for her hungry eyes to devour.

she licked her lips as she guided the tip of her cock to your clenching hole “ready?”

you didn’t even get a word out before she plunged into you, punching a strangled whine past your lips.

she eased in and out of your needy cunt in a steady rhythm, her strong thighs clapping against the bottom of your ass as she watched in awe the way she drove the purple, glowing shaft into your tight hole.

“you take me so fucking well,” she grunted “creaming all over this cock and making a mess. you just like being a little slut don’t you?” you couldn’t stop the broken cries that left your lips upon hearing her filthy words.

she began picking up the pace - hitting that sweet spot that made your mind go blank as the bed creaked in a violent back and forth due to the way she was slamming into you.

without a shadow of a doubt you knew she loves you, but goddamn does she fuck you like she hates your guts.

the sensations were too intense and you felt another orgasm approaching, but before you even got there did she suddenly pull out of you. making your eyes go wide.

“w-what are you-“ you yelped when she abruptly drew closer so her knees were beside your head, taking the base of her cock as she harshly stroked it.

aligning it with your lips as dribbles of both your cum and shimmer fell from the tip.

“open wide,”

but you had no say in the matter when she wretched your mouth open for you, tasting the combination of your release and the tiniest drop of shimmer as it slid down your tongue and into your throat.

and it was as if your nerves were suddenly on fire.

sevika watched in those next few seconds the way your eyes glowed purple as the effects of the drug already begun working and in that moment, you looked almost animalistic.

she wasn’t even aware of what she had just done because one minute you were underneath her, then the next you flipped the two of you over at an inhumane speed so you were straddling her lap while her back laid flat against the bed.

she watched with a mixture of shock and awe as you sank down onto her cock, moaning like a pornstar as you began a frenzied pace and rode her like you were trying to win a fucking race.

“fuck!” she yelled as you aggressively bounced on her cock, taking both wrists of her flesh and mech hand as you pinned them down onto the bed - chasing your own release with no regards to her own while the headboard slammed in violent thuds against the wall. no doubt alerting your neighbors of what you were doing.

the back of the strap was hitting her clit just right as you set a punishing pace for both you and her as you let the shimmer consume all of your senses “cock so fucking good, sev. I love your cock so much, baby. fuck! fuck! fuck!” your eyes were squeezed shut and your tits bounced in her face as your hips maintained its desperate grinding and bouncing.

it was dirty, lewd and downright disgusting the way your slick poured down onto her thighs, your pace not once faltering that when the sounds of wood cracking filled the air and one foot of the bed suddenly crashed down, sevika wasn’t surprised.

and neither were you as you remained in your own little blissed out state.

riding her aggressively until you could almost taste your release at the tips of your tongue, and sevika wasn’t too far behind as she began panting heavily.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cu-“ and just like that, an ear piercing cry came out of you as you poured into her - hands on her broad shoulders as you held on for dear life. meanwhile sevika watched you fall apart, her eyes glazed over and filled with so much adoration as she came right after.

“holy shit…” you were breathing heavily as you came down from your high “what the fuck just happened?”

she took a while to answer, still gathering her bearings as she smiled lazily.

“the best sex of my life I think,” she said, her tone slurred “you sure you wanna throw the strap away?”

you shook your head, but based on the way your lips quirked up she could tell you were thinking the same thing “round two then?”

“fuck off,”

[turquoisenintendo64]

the warmth arms bring ft. mark grayson.

you weren’t listening anymore.

you felt how his voice rumbled in his chest, but you weren’t actually listening to the words, too focused on the beating of his heart. and, also, you were falling asleep.

moments like this were rare with your boyfriend, mark, as he was always too busy saving people. so, when they came, you cherished them.

but right now, on the other hand, you were awfully tired and his loving hold on you was keeping you warm. not to mention how hearing his heart beating so calmly brought you immense peace. how could you not get sleepy?

you caught some of the words. something about… penguins. and pebbles.

“hey,” his voice makes you open your eyes slowly. “are you falling asleep? we can sleep.”

it’s also his voice what makes the corner of your lips quirk up. soft, sweet and quiet.

“no, no,” you say, groggily. “keep talking. i like hearing you talk.”

he chuckles softly, the sound going straight to your heart.

“well i was saying,” he starts again. his hand travels from the small of your back to touch the ends of your hair. “penguins choose a partner for life, and they give them the most beautiful pebble they find as a gift. like a promise ring, kind of.”

you hum softly, letting him know you’re listening.

“you gave me a rock once.”

he laughs.

“i did,” you swear you can hear his smile. “more than once, actually.”

you stretch on top of him, exhaling through your nose.

his arms encircle your waist again, making you feel secure.

you yawn, and he asks you again: “do you want to sleep?”

this time, you nod, shifting so both of you would be more comfortable in that position.

he holds you close to him, and you loosely wrap your arms around his neck.

he leaves a soft kiss on the top of your head, and you smile. “but keep talking,” you request. “your voice is soothing.”

he murmurs an ‘okay’ before rambling about a movie he saw a couple days ago with william. something about brad pitt solving a crime.

he didn’t mind if you weren’t listening, with your eyes already closed and your breathing growing more calm.

just being this close to you, in the darkness and quiet of his room, was enough.

knowing you were alive and safe was enough.

some people would call this boring. he calls this love.

[arkangelo-7]

Okay, but, the GCPD and the Batfamily having a dysfunctional working relationship would be hilarious. Like, the cops know they need the Bats to help keep Gotham’s streets clean, but man, they are fucking troublemakers.

Take Dick, for example. He’s already naturally at home in a police station, so he’ll regularly waltz into GCPD headquarters to give pointers on cases, act as a translator, and will occasionally bring donuts for the night officers. But he’s also been trying to get them to unionize since 2009 and will also unabashedly steal things from the evidence locker. (He always returns it, usually with the adjacent case completed, but it’s a lot of red tape and that’s very annoying.) He also fucks up the coffee machine every time he uses it.

As for Jason… On one hand he is excellent at tracking down perps that have escaped custody or gone to ground. It’s not uncommon for him to pull up with a van full of criminals on the wanted list, which is great… expect for the fact that Jason is also on the wanted list. So whenever he shows up the GCPD cops have to put in effort (minimal as it may be) to try and “capture” the Red Hood so that they don’t get audited by Homeland Security. So now like once a month they have to chase the Red Hood across Gotham proper, because he handed the Penguin into their custody or something, and they have to look good for their bosses—it’s a waste of resources and really fucking annoying, but, hey, they got the Penguin?

Surprisingly, Tim and Stephanie are the most frequent visitors of the GCPD—and they are also the most dreaded. Because Tim is a plucky little know-it-all, but also he can and will update their entire database in a single night and will, at random, solve a cold case they’ve been sitting on for 20 years. The problem is that he’s just fucking annoying about it, and every other week he’ll break into the vending machine to steal the energy drinks—that shit is impossible to get replaced. And Steph? She’ll talk the ears off the night shift and get everyone off task, because they’re busy gossiping about the accounting department in the Manor’s office and planning a prank war on the fire department.

You would think Cassandra would be everyone’s favorite because she’s quiet and much less destructive then her siblings, but you’d be wrong—Cassandra is an absolute menace and the night shift workers have spent years trying to prove it. She will sneak up behind people, leave random pebbles in people’s shoes, and will put googly eyes on anything she touches. The day shift thinks the night officers need to chill because, “isn’t she the chill one?” (No. No she is not. None of the Bats are chill.)

And then there’s Damian. As Robin, the closest he usually gets to the GCPD is through Batman, via his consultations with Commissioner Gordon. But on the rare occasions he’s permitted inside the GCPD, he is dotted on extensively by the officers. He’s deadly and abrasive but they love him. They give him candy and head pats and let him use the sketch-artist supplies to do drawings, which they religiously pin to the break room refrigerator. Damian will pretend to despise this despite the fact that he so clearly loves it.

Lastly, there’s Duke. As the only day shifter, he’s widely considered to be the most well adjusted and relatable Bat. Half a year into his tenure as Signal, he’s on a first name basis with half the GCPD, has his own locker and fridge space for his lunchbox, a coffee mug with his logo on it is kept in the break room, and he’s already been nominated for Employee of the Year despite the fact that he does not actually work for the GCPD. The night shift refuses to accept that he is real.