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#I AM TRYING TO INDUCE AMNESIA
juniperskye · 29 days
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Who Are You Again?
Based on the following ask: I had another plot thought! Aaron x BAU Reader (female or gender neutral) where Reader disobeys an order to save a victim and gets hurt really bad. Reader wakes up in the hospital to Aaron who is angry at first but then is shocked when it turns out that Reader has retrograde amnesia from the injury. Reader has forgotten their entire career in the BAU and even that They and Aaron were secretly dating! Last thing Reader actually remembers was attending a lecture in college where Aaron was a guest speaker and Reader developed a crush on him! Now Aaron has to carefully navigate helping Reader recover without outing their relationship to anyone else. Or maybe he wonders if it's better they forget? But for a HEA ending definitely Aaron doing something romantic sparks a memory and helps everything come flooding back. @nyxwolph thank you for requesting again and trusting me with your ideas! – I did have to change things up a bit (I struggled big time with this one)
Aaron Hotchner x BAU! Fem Reader
Angst/Fluff
Word count: 5336
REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!
Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, age gap, some language, BAU canon typical violence, mention of parent death, mention of kidnapping, mention of Haley and Jack, secret relationship, let me know if I missed any!!
That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.
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“In chaos theory, the butterfly effect is the sensitive dependence on initial conditions in which a small change in one state of a deterministic nonlinear system can result in large differences in a later state.” Essentially, something as small as a butterfly flapping its wings could cause something as catastrophic as a tornado.  
Aaron wondered what small event happened that led to this moment right now. A moment that would change the trajectory of your lives forever.
*36 hours earlier*
“Garcia has the unsubs location; he’s headed down a backroad just east of the 95.” Aaron said.
“He’s devolving, he’s probably going to try and dispose of his latest victim.” Morgan chimed in.
“Not if we have anything to do with it.” JJ replied.
“His location is being shared with you all, everyone be safe, at this point he’s going to be willing to do anything to avoid prison.” Hotch added.
“I’m close by, I am going to go try and cut him off.” You suggested.
The team expressed their worry and care and urged you to be careful. The only thing you had on your mind, however, was saving the five-year-old boy this unsub had hidden. You drove as fast as your vehicle would allow, you had to get to the unsub. You had to save that boy.
As you got closer to the location Garcia had shared, you could see the dust trail the unsubs car was leaving down the road. You thought about your options, and you made a snap decision. Drive on, no matter the consequences – take out the unsub’s car. So that’s what you did.
You drove forward and your car t-boned the unsubs, only you hadn’t considered that he’d be driving a semi tractor. Upon impact, your SUV was crushed, in your rush to get to the unsub you’d forgotten to put on your seatbelt and your body was ejected through the windshield.
The accident was enough to stop the unsub long enough for the team to arrive. As they surveyed the scene, Aaron’s stomach dropped. He immediately began barking orders, demanding medics, and sending agents to the unsubs’ farm to find the boy.  Throughout everything he refused to leave your side.
*Present Day*
“Sir, we had to place her in a medically induced coma to allow the swelling in her brain to go down.” The doctor explained.
“Is there an estimate as to how long it’ll be until she wakes up?” Aaron asked.
“With these kinds of injuries, it’s hard to say. The brain is a tricky thing, and no two injuries are alike. We just have to wait and see.”
“Thank you.” Aaron said, shaking the doctor’s hand.
Your doctor made her exit and Aaron moved to the seat beside your bed. He gently took your hand in his own placing a kiss to the back of it before returning it to your side. Aaron had thought back to the night everything changed.
*One year earlier*
“Hey Hotch, here’s that report you asked for. You aren’t staying are you?” You asked, glancing at your watch.
“Thanks, and yeah I had a few things I needed to finish up.”
You made your way over to Aaron’s couch, dropped your bag to the floor, and shrugged your jacket off. You pulled your phone out to see what was still open for delivery in the area. Aaron and you had shared many nights like this, spending late nights together in his office. The two of you had grown very close over the years, so much so that David had outright asked Aaron if you two were dating. To which Aaron let out an awkward chuckle and denied the accusation. If only he knew.
“What are you doing? You should head home.” Aaron said.
“Well, you should too, and you aren’t, so I guess that means we’re ordering dinner.” You smiled at him.
“I love you.” Aaron said simply.
“What?” You were stunned.
“I’m sorry, that was inappropriate. I didn’t – I um….”
“Say it again.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Aaron made his way over to you, gently caressed your face and kissed you. It was everything you had ever imagined. There had been this tension between the two of you over the last two years and it was all finally coming together.
After that night, Aaron and you had agreed to keep your relationship under wraps, to avoid any potential disruption to the team, but also any question as to your position on the team. Aaron didn’t want anyone to question the fact that it was your skills and resume alone that got you to where you are.
Yours and Aaron’s relationship blossomed after that night, but not without hardships. Aaron and you faced a lot of adversity in multiple aspects of your relationship; you had a hard time trusting people, Aaron had been self-conscious of your age gap, and you both couldn’t help but feel that you weren’t good enough for the other (not that either of you would bring it up).
*Present Day*
A tear fell from Aaron’s eye, he couldn’t fathom losing you. This was all part of the reason he didn’t want to get serious with someone after Haley, but then you came into his life. You’d come in and made yourself known with your kind eyes and witty charm; how could he not fall in love with you.
Aaron fell for you slowly then all at once, it came naturally, and he couldn’t help it. He knew that the team had their suspicions and honestly over the last year there had been some close calls, but you had ultimately maintained the secrecy of your relationship.
In this moment, Aaron couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt and regret over the fact that he’d asked you to keep things quiet. Had he let the team in on your relationship, he could’ve done a better job at keeping you safe.
*2 Weeks Later*
Aaron had been by your side as much as possible over the last two weeks, which is exactly where he was when you started to stir. Aaron shot straight up in his seat, his hand quickly reaching for your own.
You couldn’t help the groan that escaped your throat, your body hurt so bad, and you felt very confused. You attempted to open your eyes but immediately regretted it – the bright fluorescents adding to the pounding in your head. As you blinked through the brightness of the room, you glanced over to your bedside, noticing a tall man seated there.
“What on earth were you thinking? Driving into the unsub like that, you could’ve been killed. Your actions were reckless and unacceptable.” The man scolded you.
You couldn’t find it in you to reply, your head was pounding. You brought your hand up to your forehead and gently press the heel of your palm into it, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure.
“Sweetheart hold on, I’ll go get your doctor.” A deep voice sounded from your bedside.
Before you could question the pet name, you heard the sound of his dress shoes clicking against the linoleum floors.
The man returned with your doctor; he dimmed the lights slightly on his way back to your bedside. He moved to grab your hand again, to which you shifted, wringing your hands nervously in your lap.
“Hello, I’m doctor Raynor. How are you feeling?”
“Like I was hit by a truck, what happened?” You questioned, giving your doctor and the man a once over.
You recognized the man; it was Special Agent Hotchner of the BAU. What was he doing here? What happened?
“Well, you were involved in an accident, can you tell me what you remember?” Dr. Raynor inquired.
“I um, well, I was leaving a lecture.” Your gaze shifted to Agent Hotchner “Your lecture actually, you were talking about MO’s. I guess the accident was after that?” You couldn’t help but notice Agent Hotchner’s expression faulter.
Your doctor looked over at Agent Hotchner and he shook his head. The two of them seemingly knew something you didn’t. You couldn’t help but feel like you’d just given the wrong answer in front of the class. Dr. Raynor had gone through the rest of your injuries with you, multiple lacerations that had required stitches, a few broken ribs, a broken wrist, and of course your TBI. Once she was done she gave you a somber look.
“Would you excuse us for just a moment? I am going to send in one of your nurses to check you over and I’ll be back in just a moment.” Dr. Raynor said.
“Oh, okay.”
Dr. Raynor and Agent Hotchner left your room, and you tried your best to listen to their conversation.
*Hotch’s POV*
She doesn’t remember me, well us. It’s like the last five years have just disappeared.
“Agent Hotchner, I gather that the lecture she’s referring to did not occur two weeks ago when she was brought in.”
“No, that lecture was nearly five years ago.” I explained.
“This would be a case of retrograde amnesia, if she’s lost recent memories.” Dr. Raynor replied.
“Will her memory return?”
“It’s hard to say.”
While Aaron was completely devastated, he couldn’t help the doubt that creeped into his mind, telling him “This is for the best”.
*Normal POV*
Dr. Raynor and Agent Hotchner looked extremely serious, and you started to feel nauseous. Something was obviously wrong. You watched as their conversation ceased and they made their way back into the room.
Something must have happened, why would Agent Hotchner be here.
“Alright, it would appear that due to the brain trauma you sustained in your accident, you are experiencing what we describe as retrograde amnesia. This is when you can’t recall memories from your past. Based on your most recent memory, it appears as if you’ve lost approximately five years.” Dr. Raynor explained.
“Five years? Five years of memories are just gone. I don’t understand. If that’s true then why are you here?” You asked gesturing to Agent Hotchner.
“Well, you work for the BAU. You have for about three years now.”
“I do? I – I, this is a lot. What does this mean? Have you called my emergency contact?” You asked.
“I uh – I am your emergency contact.” Agent Hotchner spoke up.
“What, why? It has always been my mom, I don’t understand.”
“I’m so sorry, your mom, she uh – she passed last year. That’s when you switched it over to me.” Agent Hotchner’s gaze shifted down to his shoes.
“She’s gone?” Your voice cracked.
“Okay, this has been quite a bit of information. The most important thing right now is getting healthy. We want to keep you here a little longer to continue monitoring the swelling in your brain. Once we’ve confirmed it has gone down, you’ll want to get back in your usual routine, that is the best shot at getting your memory back.” Dr. Raynor gently patted your leg.
“How am I meant to get back to my normal routine when I don’t know it? The one person I had, I just found out is dead.”
“Given that Agent Hotchner is your emergency contact, we would be able to release you into his care. For now, we just need to stay positive.” With that, Dr. Raynor made her exit.
“I know this is a lot, but the BAU, we’re like a family, that includes you. Each member of the team is going to be willing to do anything to help you throughout this process.” Agent Hotchner said.
Part of you knew you could trust him; he had kind eyes, and you knew he was genuine. However, the other part of you felt so hopeless, like a lost kid in a department store. How were you meant to go home with this man who you didn’t know.
*Five Days Later*
“Do you have everything?” Aaron asked.
He had been with you every day for the last five days. He had brought you some things from your apartment and asked you to call him Aaron for now while you were “getting to know him”. You had to admit, it had been pretty nice talking with him the last few days.
“I think so!” You looked over at him. “I know that I am meant to be staying with you, at least until I’m fully healed, but could we go to my apartment first? I’d like to see it and maybe go through some of my things?”
“Of course we can.” Aaron nodded, gesturing towards the door.
The drive to your place was filled with small talk, mostly you asking Aaron questions about the BAU and the time you’ve spent there. It felt weird asking the man who is technically your boss about your personal life.
When you arrived, Aaron made sure to open your door for you and carry your bag into your home. He led you inside and you couldn’t help but notice how comfortable he seemed in your place, like he’d been there before. Like he belonged there. You shook the thought from your mind.
“I got you a new phone, it’s all set up for you.” Aaron said handing you the device.
“Thanks! Were they able to back up the old one? I was hoping to go through old texts and pictures to gather some insight into my life. God that sounds weird.” You huffed out a breath.
“I have our technical analyst Penelope Garcia working on that for you.” Aaron informed you.
“That’s great, thank you.”
The truth was, Aaron didn’t have Garcia backing up your old phone, at least not yet. He knew that if he had brought it to her she would uncover all the private texts and photos that you two had shared over the last year. He didn’t want to risk everyone finding out about your relationship, especially now when he wasn’t sure what your future would hold.
Aaron watched you as you made your way around your apartment. You wandered slowly around letting your fingers graze the spines of books on your shelves, picture frames on the walls and tchotchkes that were strewn about your desk and shelves. 
He so badly wanted to pull you into his arms, kiss your head and tell you that everything was going to be okay. He wanted you to know that he wasn’t just your boss. But he also thought about all the things that could go wrong if he told you. You could question your own ethics and fall into self-loathing with the thought that you’d potentially slept your way to the top – this was the furthest thing from the truth, but he knew you and the way your mind spiraled. He wondered if it would just be easier if he let you find yourself all on your own, to let this thing between you go and hope that maybe you’d find your way back to him again.
When he looked over to you once again, he saw that you had found a photo album. It was one he was very familiar with; Garcia had gotten it for you on your 1-year BAU anniversary and filled it halfway. Since then, you’d continue to add to it all the photos you’d taken with the team.
You hadn’t realized you were crying until a tear had fallen onto the picture you were currently examining. Your emotions were running high, looking through the album was so strange it felt like looking at a stranger and yet it was you in photo after photo looking happier than ever with these people you couldn’t remember.
You felt the couch dip beside you and Aaron gently rubbed his hand up and down your back.
“I can’t imagine how overwhelming this all must be. I know that I can’t understand but I am here for you and I’m happy to lend an ear if you want to talk about it.” Aaron quietly soothed you.
“Thank you so much Aaron. I just don’t know how to wrap my head around this being me but not remembering it. Clearly you all mean so much to me and yet I have no recollection of any of this.” You sobbed.
Aaron and you sat like that on your couch for a while. He gave you the time you needed to calm down, while holding you, whispering sweet nothings to you. You felt oddly comfortable there in his arms, your mind shifted to the thought that enjoying the way his arms felt around you was also incredibly inappropriate given that he was your boss. At that thought you shifted slightly. You thought back to why you had signed up to audit Aaron’s lecture and while the main reason was the knowledge he’d lend you, a part of you allowed his looks to give you that final push in signing up.
“I should probably grab a few things so we can head out.” You whispered.
“Do you need any help?” Aaron asked.
“I should be okay, but I’ll let you know!”
Aaron drove the two of you back to his apartment, for the time being he had asked Jessica to keep Jack, this way you could adjust, and Jack also wouldn’t out your relationship. Aaron had his guest bedroom set up for you, he’d set it up with some of your favorite things. A lavender scented candle, extra pillows, a fluffy blanket, and he made sure to set a small trinket dish on the dresser, so you’d have a place to put your jewelry.
These of course were all things Aaron had previously had at his place for you. When you two had gotten increasingly more serious, he encouraged you to leave some stuff at his place and he’d gone as far as to supply some of your favorites around his home for you.
Aaron led you into his home and you couldn’t help but glance around, really taking in your surroundings. You couldn’t help but take note of a few things as he showed you around; there was a photo missing from the side table next to the couch (you could see the tiny bit of dust that must’ve collected around it), the pantry was stocked with quite a few of your favorite snacks, there was a pink coffee mug in the cabinet, and lastly, tucked under the shoe rack near the front door were a pair of fluffy gray slippers.
You couldn’t explain why, but there was a slight pang of jealousy in you as you thought of Aaron having a girlfriend. You knew you had no right to feel that way and it would be incredibly inappropriate, but it was a gut reaction.
*One Week Later*
Aaron and you had fallen into a weird sort of routine, it started to feel a lot like the 50’s, you making dinner and cleaning while he worked. You were starting to get a bit stir crazy, which is exactly why you were so excited today. Garcia would be coming by to see you; she was bringing over a bunch of photos and videos of you with the team throughout the last three years.
It was a paperwork catch-up day for the BAU, so Aaron had given Penelope the go ahead to take a long lunch and spend some time with you. So, when a knock on the door rang through the apartment, you couldn’t help the burst of excitement that coursed its way through your veins.
“Hi Penelope!”
“Hey babe! How are you feeling?” She asked, giving you a look of concern.
“I’m feeling pretty good, you know, except for the missing five years of memories thing.”  You let out a low chuckle.
“Oh goodness! Well, I’ve brought a ton of stuff that might help bring some stuff back. I read that sense of smell is the sense that links with memories the strongest so have a bunch of things for you to smell while you look at photos in hopes something will come back to you.”
“That sounds like a great idea!” You smiled at Penelope.
The next hour or so went by with Penelope showing you photos and videos along with passing you various items to smell in hopes of bringing back some of your memories. And while it wasn’t like a wave crashing over you, bringing all your memories back, it did bring some things back. You could remember the members of the BAU and some of their quirks, you remembered the feeling of being in the bullpen (thanks to the smell of some very burnt coffee). What you were struggling to regain was your emotional memories, you couldn’t quite pinpoint the relationships you had with anyone from the team. 
“I am glad that this helped! I should probably get out of your hair though; I can tell you have headache.” Penelope
“Thank you Penelope, I really appreciate all of this!”
You led her to the door, and she reminded you to get some rest and to take it easy. She also suggested that you come by the BAU for lunch in the next week or so to see everyone. The team had been doing a good job of not overwhelming you and allowing you time to get back in the swing of things.
“Oh, Penelope before you go, did you get a chance to back up my old phone? Aaron said you were working on it.”
“Oh, hon. He must’ve forgotten to mention it, but I will get started on that right away! I’ll text you as soon as I’m done, okay? We will just be able to pull the backup and put it on your new phone!” She said pulling you into a tight hug, before making her exit.
Why would Aaron have lied to you about your old phone? Maybe Penelope was right, and it just slipped his mind, he had been dealing with a lot, taking care of you, and having you stay with him.
You hadn’t meant to snoop, honestly, but after having talked with Penelope, the feeling Aaron was hiding something from you was extremely prevalent. You decided to look around a bit, you know, while putting the laundry away. You needed to put the towels away in Aaron’s bathroom, you just happened to notice the second toothbrush in the holder, the dress hanging inside his closet (come on, the door was already open), the ring box tucked in his sock drawer, what shocked you the most were the photos in the hall closet. It was a photo of him and a tall brunette that had you spiraling, where was this woman? You had clearly been invading his space long enough and you couldn’t bear the thought of coming between him and this woman who was to be his fiancé.
You needed to get back to your life, and out of Aaron’s hair. You decided that you’d tell him that night over dinner, you were going to move back home.
“Hey, I’m home!” Aaron called.
“Hey, how was your day?” You asked.
Aaron explained that his day was good, and he asked you about your get together with Penelope as you finished up dinner. Aaron set the table as you followed behind him plating up the food.
“I’m glad to hear things went well with Penelope. I think lunch with the team is a great idea.”
“Aaron I’m gonna move back home.” The words flew out of your mouth faster than your brain could catch up. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want to impose on your life any more than I already have.”
“It’s truly not an imposition, but if that’s what you want.” Aaron looked deflated.
“I just think it’s important we both get back to our usual every day.”
“If you think that’s best.”
You two ate in silence. Afterwards you both went to the kitchen, cleaned up the dishes and made your way to your separate rooms. You began packing up your belongings and Aaron scrolled through photos of the two of you from before the accident.
*Two Days Later*
“Good morning gorgeous!!! I am calling to inform you that the backup from your old phone is ready, and I also think it is the perfect day for you to come in and have lunch with everyone!” Penelope sang over the phone.
“Okay, what time should I come down there?”
“Ummm maybe around 12:30? Everyone is usually ready to eat by then. I can call and order in something too!”
“Oh, and uh Pen, I don’t know the address, and I’m not cleared to drive.” You said shyly.
“Oh shoot, okay! I’ll see who is available to come and pick you up, no worries.” Penelope reassured you.
You took some time getting ready, most of the team hadn’t seen you since before the injuries, and while the cuts and bruises have faded and scarred, you still had a very broken wrist and frequent headaches, along with PTSD and anxiety attacks thanks to the TBI. You felt like you had been doing well, and based on your recent check-up with your neurologist, things are trending up in regard to your health. Though you began to worry that the worst had yet to come.
A knock on your door shook you out of your thoughts, as you made your way to answer it, you wondered who Penelope sent to get you. Pulling the door open revealed someone you were hoping you wouldn’t see so soon.
“Hi Aaron.”
“Hello, were going to go pick up the food on the way back to the BAU, if that’s okay.” Aaron explained.
“Yeah, that’s fine.” You nodded.
The drive was filled with tense silence. You couldn’t help but wonder why Aaron would harbor any negative feelings towards you. You’d only moved out of his apartment so he could get back on to his life, if anything he should be grateful that you’ve gone home. One of the main reasons you’d really decided to go home was because of the fact that you were growing far too comfortable.
Things at Aaron’s house were starting to feel right, like it was where you belong. You had no idea how you had been able to work with him over the last few years, the crush you had on him all those years ago had only proven to grow stronger.
“I’ll run in and grab the food.” Aaron said, pulling you out of your thoughts.
Before you could reply, he stepped out of the car and made his way into the restaurant.  
Aaron got you signed in with a visitor’s badge (as you weren’t cleared to work) and then he led you up to the sixth floor, BAU bullpen. Upon walking in, you felt an odd sense of familiarity. You knew that it would make sense for the BAU to bring memories back and that you would have muscle memory to help lead you through the building, but it felt very strange.
You looked over at Aaron, “I need to go see Garcia, do you mind pointing me in the right direction?”
“Of course, her office is that way. Second door on the right.”
“Thanks.” You smiled.
You wandered through the corridor, catching a glimpse of Garcia through her open door. You lightly knocked on her door and walked into her office.
“Oh! Hello gorgeous!” Garcia squealed, standing, and pulling you into a hug.
“Hey Pen!”
“Let’s get your phone squared away and then we will go eat.”
You handed your phone over to Penelope and she began downloading the last backup from your old phone.
“This should only take a few minutes.”
Penelope and you made idle chit chat for a few moments while waiting on your phone. When it finished uploading, she unplugged it and handed it to you. The two of you then made your way to the bullpen.
Lunch with the BAU was overwhelming to say the least. It was fun talking to everyone, but you could tell everyone was walking on eggshells and you could see the pity flash behind their eyes as you sat and explained your lack of memories with the people sitting before you.
After lunch, Aaron let everyone leave early. It had been a paperwork day and the team had been very productive. He told them all to go home, but of course to leave their phones on, just in case they had to leave. Emily offered to drive you home, given the close proximity of your apartments.
When you got home, you changed into some comfortable clothes and sat on the couch. You took a deep breath and unlocked your phone. There were two things you noticed while going through everything, the first being a significant number of photos saved and the second being the texts exchanged between you and your boss.
You decided to go through the photos first. There were plenty of you with the various members of the BAU, but what caught your attention was one image in particular, in it, you were laid in bed with your head resting on a man’s chest…the man being none other than Aaron.
You quickly switched over to your messages app. Clicking Aaron’s name, you saw the most recent text…
“Be careful sweetheart. I love you.”
Your mind was racing, what were you meant to think, why would he keep this from you? Was the ring meant for you? You needed to see him.
You ordered an Uber and made your way to the FBI building. You signed in, getting a visitors’ badge and headed up to the sixth floor.
“Aaron” You called out into the bullpen.
“Is everything okay? What are you doing here?” Aaron asked as he walked out of his office.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you what?” Aaron questioned.
“That we were together.”
You gestured to your phone. Aaron dropped his gaze for a moment, before looking back to you. You could see the pain behind his eyes.
“Sweetheart, we had been keeping it a secret, and I don’t know, I guess I thought that maybe you’d be better off. I figured you might find someone more appropriate for you.”
“That wasn’t a choice for you to make. Aaron things have been confusing enough, losing my memory. But to have you lying to me, it’s total bullshit. How am I supposed to get my memories back if you are keeping such a big part of me a secret.” You couldn’t help the frustrated tears from slipping down your cheek.
Aaron reached for you and let his thumb brush the tear off your cheek. He stepped closer to you and brought his other hand to your cheek.
“I am so sorry. I should’ve told you from the get-go, I was scared. I thought that maybe I would tell you and you’d have to get to know me again and maybe you wouldn’t love me the way you did before. I also couldn’t help but think that I don’t deserve you and this was your perfect out. But that was selfish, I should’ve told you the truth.”
You leaned your head onto Aaron’s chest, and he wrapped his arms around you. He pressed a gentle kiss to your hairline and then he pulled back.
“Can I show you something?” Aaron asked.
You nodded and followed him to his office. Aaron led you around his desk and gestured for you to sit in his chair. He pointed to his computer screen, and you took note of the screen saver. It was a slideshow of pictures taken throughout your relationship, there were pictures of you at the FBI Gala, Jack’s soccer game, art museums, at Aaron’s home, at your apartment, etc..
It happened slowly, then all at once. A warm feeling flooded your veins, and a dull ache filled your head. Tears were steadily streaming down your face. You looked up at Aaron, and he met your gaze. A moment was shared before understanding washed over Aaron.
“I remember.”
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alienaiver · 1 month
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Rugged
Aizawa Shouta x GN!reader
warnings: quirk-induced amnesia, canon minor character death (major in my heart tho), spoilers for... season 5 and forth? to be safe wordcount: 4.9k content: confessions, first kiss, fluff, sfw, no use of y/n, pro hero reader but quirk is unspecified, canon compliant, genderneutral reader, poc!friendly reader, body positive reader, hurt/comfort in like the mildest sense, soft love, amnesia situation, friends to lovers, childhood friends to lovers, started as a meme turned into something serious, something about cats, unbeta'd, flashbacks to high school days
notes: this is so embarassing to admit but i only came up with this story bcos of that tiktok/insta reel (link is a tiktok as thats where i could find the source material) about having a type that's 'rugged'. it was supposed to just turn into a little joke on that and... uh, ykno suddenly i was almost 5k deep into a childhood friends to lovers, ..ya my brain had a VISION alrighty!!!!! please enjoy a one-eyed kitty, one-eyed aizawa and interrupted confessions!
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Aizawa’s leaning forward on the desk, meticulously writing down an exact copy of your notes from English Literature that he missed yesterday due to being in the infirmary… again. He’s always known that becoming a Pro Hero with a non-physical quirk would be tough, but he didn’t imagine landing himself in a hospital bed as often as he does. He’s bulking up nicely, but he feels beaten black and blue every other day and it’s… exhausting.
Rewarding, but exhausting nonetheless. He’s momentarily disturbed as a chair is being dragged across the floor, screeching away before haphazardly thrown next to the desk, wrong side facing it, and Yamada throwing himself onto it, arms leaning on the backrest. He says your name in a sing-song voice – your given name, has he no shame? - and steals a peek of you from over the rim of his glasses. You rest your head in your palm and smile at him, “what’s up?” you ask, and he hums as if he’s thinking deeply about something. Aizawa’s got a bad feeling about whatever subject he’s about to bring up; ever since he appointed himself Aizawa’s wing man, the pestering’s both been non-stop and non-discreet.
Aizawa keeps his face buried in the notes, purposefully removing himself from the conversation.
“What’s your type?” Yamada asks and Aizawa has to hold back a facepalm. You simply giggle and play with the zipper from your pencil case before you answer, “hmm, I’m not sure. But with all due respect, I know it’s not you,” you tease him and he straightens his back in mock-surprise, the conversation’s one you’ve had before. He takes a hand to his chest, “what? Not me? Well you’re not my type either!” the shriek in which he yells is a little too loud, his quirk still a little too unmanageable when he gets excited – he winces as the rest of the class turn their heads. You simply laugh and bite your lower lip. Aizawa steals a look at you through his bangs, admiring the glimmer in your eyes.
“Yeah, I’m sorry ‘Zashi, I truly am, but… you’re just not… rugged enough.”
“What? I’m so rugged. I can be rugged!”
“Look at you, you’re not rugged,” you laugh as you gesture vaguely to… all of him. He takes offense as he puffs up his chest, “how am I not rugged? Because I’m not wearing a flannel in 80 degree weather?”
You hide your face in your hand as you try to contain your laughter, “yeah, sure, whatever… but look at you now. You fly off the handle like that, you’re too angry.”
“That’s a very rugged thing to do!”
“No, it’s really not.”
Aizawa has been saddled with the two of you for almost two semesters now, and he’s still not entirely used to the way you joke around. In the beginning he was always worried about you fighting and not getting along and he’d stare at you both with wide eyes like a startled cat and hope you’d settle down soon. You always did, laughing like the greatest joke was just told.
You lean forward on the table to bark out a laughter deep from your stomach, momentarily blocking the view of your notes that Aizawa’s copying. He lets out a soundless grunt at you being so close and pulls away in surprise when he accidentally smell your shampoo. He wants to lean forward again, to commit the scent to memory, but you’re already straightened back up, wiping an imaginary tear from your eye, “you don’t even want me, Hizashi, why is this always so important to you?”
This makes Aizawa freeze, terrified that Yamada will accidentally tell his secret to you. But Yamada simply crosses his arms, puffs up his cheeks and nods, “you’re right, I don’t. But I want you to want me. I’m the entire package.”
You laugh and shake your head, letting your arm fall onto the desk in defeat. “Sure then, ‘Zashi. I want you. Badly. More than anything. Please go out with me.” your face is as flat as Aizawa’s can be, and Yamada smiles proudly, “no thank you.”
Aizawa’s startled out of grading papers when his personal phone starts ringing next to him on the desk, the screen much too bright for the darkened room he’s situated in. It’s an unknown caller, which makes him hesitant at first but since it’s well past office hours, he knows it won’t be a salesman of any sort.
He bites his lower lip before he picks up.
“Aizawa speaking.”
“Ah, good evening. I apologize for contacting you at this hour, however, you are written down as the emergency contact for…” he apologetically butchers the pronunciation of your name, but gets your hero name correctly, “this is Aizawa Shouta, right?” the person on the other end confirms, and Aizawa nods before he verbally comes up with an answer.
“Well, it’s just that…” he explains your situation precariously, advising Aizawa to just come down to the station if he’s able, since someone will need to escort you home. He makes sure to remind Aizawa that you have two more emergency contacts on file in case he’s not available, but after getting the location, he’s already up from the chair before he’s hung up with the poor officer dealing with you.
From the call he knows you’re neither mortally wounded or in any kind of distress. You were on patrol when you encountered two villains. One of them turned out to have an amnesia quirk, and now you were stuck at the precinct, not entirely sure where your apartment is located. The officer informed Aizawa that you seemed calm and collected but that the last date you remember was well over 10 years ago even if you haven’t age-regressed in any way.
When he arrives, the officer leads him to one of the offices, profusely apologizing and thanking him at the same time. He’ll never really get used to the way newly appointed officers act around Pro Heroes.
Even if all facts and rationale tells Aizawa that you’re fine, he still grips the door handle way too tight, throwing open the door and evidently scaring the shit out of you, sprawled out on the couch with an ice bag on your knee. You spew out some profanities as you sit up. Aizawa immediately calms down as he sees you alive and well. He thanks the officer and agrees with the officer to sit down and talk with you before taking you home. He bows before he closes the door and looks back at you.
“I already gave a statement – was anything missing?” you ask, resting your hands neatly on your thighs. Aizawa shakes his head, “I came to pick you up – they informed you about which of the emergency contacts to call, right?”
Realization seems to travel across your features as Aizawa masks the sting he feels. Instinctively you reach out, but ultimately pull your hands back, “Aizawa?”
For a split second he lets his emotion show on his face – the way you say his last name instead of his given name, but he’s quick to hide it again. He nods and sits down on one of the chairs on the other side of the coffee table, “I was informed that your memory’s been wiped.”
You nod and look at the floor, “yeah. They took in the villains and interrogated them. It seems it’ll wear off in five to seven hours, but until then I’m stuck with my first work study as my most recent memory. I don’t feel like high school me, though, it’s just like there’s an empty gap in my timeline and not an age-related kind of thing. I can’t remember what has happened since then, but cognitively speaking, I’m still myself.”
Aizawa breathes in sharply, “well, that’s a relief. I have enough students to take care of,” he dryly jokes and the way your eyes widen make him self-conscious. He shouldn’t have made the joke he thinks as he shrinks in on himself.
“You’re a teacher?”
The way you ask betrays your emotions all too clearly and Aizawa holds back a snort. If the last of his personality you remember is high school, he gets why you struggle with the image of him taking care of the budding youth.
“A homeroom teacher, actually.”
Whatever preconceptions you had initially seems to dissipate and you smile proudly, “that’s amazing.”
You haven’t commented on his appearance; besides the moment where you didn’t recognize him, you don’t seem all too taken aback by his lack of eye and prosthetic leg. He’s relieved.
“You ready to go?” he asks, patting his lap with his palms before bracing himself to get up. You get up too and stretch your arms over your head, waiting for that satisfying pop, but it never comes. Annoyed, you let your arms falls and Aizawa smiles at you.
He leads you out of the room and as you put on the jacket he came with, he thanks the officers for their work with some polite back and forth and a bow.
The trip back is quiet as you seem to just take in your surroundings. You stop by your Agency to grab your personal items and civilian clothes that you left behind before your patrol. Luckily the offices are mostly cleared out, so you don’t have to ‘meet’ everyone and Aizawa gets out of explaining everything to everyone.
“Do you want me to escort you to your place? Or do you want to come to mine?”
The question is straight-forward and innocent; you sleep over so often that Aizawa’s spare futon has simply been dubbed your futon, but you seem taken aback, eyes wide and mouth agape. For a moment Aizawa’s blind to the confusion before he remembers.
“Sorry, you sleep over at my place a lot since it’s close to your work. I thought you might also like to see Benben.”
Your eyes that had seemed so tired ever since he arrived, lights up in recollection and excitement, “Benben’s alive and well?” you ask, absentmindedly leaning into Aizawa’s space in your joy. He struggles not to lean back reflectively.
“Yeah, she’s living with me now. She’s becoming old, though. But you’re still her favorite human, so she’d be happy to see you too.”
You giggle into your palm, clearly trying to picture Benben. She was a stray that you and Aizawa started to feed your leftover lunches to back during your first year at U.A. She was also one of the reasons you even started bonding with the stoic classmate. When you talk about the name Benben, a very bad nickname based off of bento, you always laugh and tease Aizawa about his cat-naming skills. While he defends himself in front of Yamada – the man with a habit of getting out his childish side – he never once argues against you on that subject.
Next to Aizawa, you clear your throat right as he’s about to unlock his front door. He’s been polite enough to not comment on the level of staring you’ve done ever since he picked you up, but it seems to be getting too much for yourself. He smiles at you gently, like he’s communicating with a lost child, and the smile makes you act before you can think too long about the action. Aizawa’s breath hitches and whole body freezes when your cold fingertips reach the skin of his cheeks. Your eyes look at him like they’re searching for something, and shortly after your palms make contact, your thumbs start traveling around his face, from his eyebrows to the slope of his nose and then a finger is being traced over the scar under his right eye. He can see all the questions fly through your head, the way you hold back from tracing the eye patch but stare at it like it’s not supposed to be there. He’s about to clear his throat when a thumb starts tracing his chapped lips before continuing down to his jawline, tickling his 5 o’clock shadow. As he tries to smile patiently at you, you mumble something under your breath that makes Aizawa’s heart stop for just a moment too long before racing at the same speeds as Yamada’s car when he’s late.
“It really is you… you’re just so…” you pause for a moment to swallow thickly and lick your lips, “…rugged.”
Not until you’ve had your (in Aizawa’s terms) grabby little fingers on every part of his face and given his heart an aneurysm with your words, does realization hit you. You seem to shrink and pull away to bow half-way a few times at him. Aizawa grumbles out a weak complaint about personal space and jingle the keys again to find the right one. No matter how advanced his work place is in terms of security and technology, he finds it unbelievable how many different types of keys he is expected carry for the school grounds alone. Logically, he’s aware that he’s fumbling due to your innocent advances but his brain’s not exactly acting calm and rational, so he furrows his brows and as he puts in the correct key, takes in a deep, calming breath.
When he motions for you to enter the apartment, he can’t help but observe you as you curiously peek around while you enter. You don’t toe off your shoes or step up from the genkan until the door behind him is locked and he gestures to the left pair of slippers in front of you. You let out a breath as you mumble, “sorry for intruding…” as if this isn’t your home away from home.
As Aizawa toes off his own shoes, he takes notice of your searching eyes. He jerks his head towards the living room, “she’s probably sleeping on the couch. She can’t hear very well anymore, so she doesn’t greet by the door.”
There’s a clear sort of heartbreak in your eyes that Aizawa recognizes, before you nod and walk in the direction of the living room. While your memory might be gone for the moment, it seems there’s muscle memory still intact as you purposefully step over the loose floorboard he always warns guests about. He smiles at that. Benben seems to spot you from her pillow on the couch because no sooner than you enter the room, he starts hearing the hoarse bleating of the senior kitty in there. She must’ve stayed up when Aizawa suddenly left, since it’s out of routine. She’s never been able to meow properly, which enchanted you since she first bleated at you for a bite of your convenience store-bought onigiri back when the two of you met her for the first time.
He hears you coo at her and can only imagine you both before he turns the other corner for his office to shut down the computer for the night. He quickly rejoins you and finds you with Benben on your lap, purring and headbutting your hands to her heart’s contents. When his eye travel higher to meet yours, he’s taken aback momentarily at the strained smile and wet eyes.
“She looks so loved.” you try to explain, and Aizawa can’t hold back the blush from the compliment. She does look loved now, a little on the fuller side (not by a lot, as her physical health is very important to Aizawa), her coat is shiny despite the coarseness that age brings, and she no longer has that stubborn eye infection it took Aizawa several years to treat out of her; she’s missing an eye now as a result, but she’s healthy.
You look around his living room, smiling and heaving in breaths at all the external proofs for her love; she has a pet staircase to both the windowsill, couch and the dining chair next to his; there are three different cat towers and several cat shelves for her to perch on although they’ve rarely been used for several years now. Aizawa can’t bear to take them down – what if she wants to go on one last adventure to the shelf highway he built for her close to the ceiling? It obviously wouldn’t be safe for her to do so, but robbing her of the options feels cruel to his heart.
When you pet her behind her ear and Aizawa situates himself on the floor pillow, you giggle, “you match.”
You’re referring to the missing eyes and while Aizawa takes no offense from the comment, he can’t help but snort at the straightforward observation. It’s very like you.
“How did you lose it?”
You don’t remove your eyes from Benben as you ask and from the shaky lilt to your voice, he knows you’re afraid of the answer. He’s afraid of telling you, too.
So much bad has happened during those years – you were there during his low points after, and asking that question is like removing the experiences you’ve shared. The grief you’ve suffered.
But he knows you want to know. Before he can answer, you continue, “can you tell me everything? About you… Oboro and Hizashi, too. I was informed it was only you, Hizashi and my mom on my emergency contact list. I know it’s not supposed to be miles long but… yeah…” you trail off and Aizawa’s grateful that you’re not looking at him. He’s not sure he’s able to control his face right now; and the emotion he’s showing wouldn’t be remotely close to soothing for you.
“Uh,” he jerks and clears his throat several times to stall, “when did you say your memory would be back?” he asks instead even if he’s aware of the answer.
You look up and hum thoughtfully, “they said five to seven hours around … two hours ago? So…” you count on your fingers and despite everything, Aizawa huffs out a soundless laugh, “three to five hours? Give or take.”
He inhales sharply. He can’t drive you off for that long, even if he used going to bed as an excuse. You’d just toss and turn in fear of what you’d come to remember.
So he tells you. He retells every painful memory with clear objectivity, pausing to let you process each one, seeing the light slowly dissipate in your eyes for every terrible incident. When he reaches present day, he inhales slowly and holds his breath for a moment to control his own emotions.
You’ve stopped petting Benben who’s sound asleep on your lap now, your hands hanging like lifeless limbs by your side. Aizawa then clears his throat, “you were scouted. In third year. ‘Zashi opened a radio station shortly after graduation. Oboro’s mom still invites us for hotpot for his birthday every year despite the mismatch in dish and weather,” you both laugh at that one – of course she insists on his favorite dish on such an important day. An image of the four of you huddled around, sweating over a pot of delicious food has you throwing your head back in sincere laughter, “you have a prodigy; you inspired me to take a pupil on as well, and he’s graduating this spring… I, uh… I use eye drops now.”
The last tidbit of information makes you turn your head so fast you almost get whiplash. Then, your expression turns stern, “didn’t I tell you! Didn’t I tell you to be careful!” you reprimand and he almost rolls his eye at you. Almost.
You shake your head at him and focus back on Benben, a little more color on you again as the mood has successfully shifted. He’s unsure if you’re pretending to be fine for his sake or if he actually succeeded in making you feel better, but he can’t stifle the yawn that comes out of him as soon as he feels relief.
You look up apologetically, “oh my God I’m so sorry, I’ve kept you up haven’t I? Please, you can just go to bed, I’ll be okay!”
Aizawa wants to argue but he also can’t fight the creaky ache he feels in his bones. He went straight from a night shift to school, napped in the teacher’s lounge and then home to grade papers. He’s dead-tired.
He gets up to carry his futon into the living room and set yours up in his bedroom. Usually, you sleep in the same, bare room as him and Benben, but he feels it might be too much for you without your memories, even if you sleep on separate futons with space in between. You make a joke about the futons but then, in a soft voice admit, “I think it’s nice you sleep on something accessible for Benben…” there’s a warm tone to your voice that makes him blush heavily before he pushes you out of his living room.
“I’ll sleep out here, you take the bedroom.”
You meekly argue about taking his bedroom, but he shuts you down in the same way he’s always done, and urges you to carry Benben in with you. You agree to have the door ajar in case Benben wants to walk around, and you bow your head when you bid him goodnight. Aizawa lets the light in the hallway stay on.
////
You wake up with a hitched breath and sweat on your brow, unsure when you managed to fall asleep. Disoriented, you take in Aizawa’s bedroom; you were supposed to sleep home tonight after your shift though, not to mention that Aizawa’s futon isn’t laid out next to yours. It takes you a moment to gather your bearings until it all comes back to you. You’d lost your memory.
You’d lost yourself. You hug your arms around you as the feeling of being lost still sits heavy in your body and makes you shiver. Seeing Aizawa was terrifying; you’d no idea of the obvious horrors he’d had to endure. You didn’t remember your best friend’s death.
For a moment you control your breathing, making yourself calm down as best as you’re able. It makes sense why Aizawa decided to sleep in the living room, if the last memory of him was a pimple-y teenager and not the gruff man he is today. You close your eyes and think back to right before you entered the apartment.
You roll onto your stomach and hide your face in your hands, letting out a drawn-out flustered groan. Without thinking, you kick your legs on the bedding to alleviate the embarrassment that’s coursing through you at your own actions. You’d just went all up in his face! The sensation of his stubble underneath your fingertips, his warm breath and his chapped but so, so kissable lips.
No!
You groan again, drowning in your one-sided misery of a crush. Your honed Pro Hero senses are completely dulled by your pining, so when Aizawa suddenly throws open the door and asks if you are alright, you screech as you lift your head from the pillow, “Shouta!”
“Shit, sorry, I heard you moving around so I thought you might have a nightmare,” he hurries to explain, secretly relieved to hear you say his given name again. He frowns when he can’t see your face with your back turned to him. Still frozen, you barely breathe before he continues, “...you are alright, right?”
Making a grimace and with no interest in facing him right now, you choke out “mhmyepdefinitelyeverythingsperfect!” in one single breath before you’re forced to inhale deeply. You hear Aizawa’s metallic foot as he walks towards your futon and hear the rustling of his clothes as he bends down in a squat next to you, “you don’t sound perfectly fine to me, though. Do you have a fever? Is it an aftershock from getting your memories back?”
Being the perfectly rational man that he is, he oversteps any boundaries to quickly check your temperature with his palm. Embarrassment can come after he’s made sure you’re okay.
You push his hand away weakly, still looking pointedly at the wall in front of you, letting out a strained laugh, “heehee, I’m just… you’re right, it must be an aftershock, right? Nothing else!”
He lets you swat his hand away without much resistance but stays where he is, letting the silence hang over you both for a minute. Suddenly, he croaks out all hoarse and desperate, “Just tell me if there’s anything, please.”
Your shoulders fall at the voice. Aizawa’s the opposite of having a heart on a sleeve, but you’ve been with him through enough tragedies to know he must be scared shitless right now. Whenever you or Yamada is even remotely bruised, he fusses over you in his own, annoyed way, until he finds you sufficiently healed. You sigh before you let your head fall back onto your pillow, a short moment to gather your thoughts and feelings before having to face him.
It must’ve been a lot for him, when you asked him to recount the years you’d momentarily lost. It would’ve been better to let it be, but he knew you so well and knew you wouldn’t let it go. Curiosity kills the cat, right?
With heavy and slow movement, you turn around so that you’re facing him, hoping your expression won’t betray your real emotions. You sigh and reach out for his hand. It’s shaking but as soon as your warm fingers make contact, he flinches before he relaxes.
Then, he grunts like he’s annoyed and chastises you for worrying him. You giggle, “I’m sorry, you’re tired, right?” you ask, knowing his schedule this week is packed. He usually leaves little wiggle room for emergencies, however many he encounters.
Before he can reply, you pull at his hand and he topples over, half on the futon and half on the floor, on his knees. You laugh and pull him even closer to you, hoping your beating heart isn’t as loud as it feels.
You and Aizawa have cuddled before; loneliness and grief has made you carve out comfort in each other, but nothing else have ever been spoken aloud. No kissing, no romantic notions to trace back to. Having a one-sided crush since high school feels deafening right now, when all the years travel back to you after what only amounts to a moment without them.
You want to tell him how you feel; losing your memories made you realize how much you’d like for him to comfort you with kisses if anything should ever happen; how you’d like for him to hold you without holding back.
He grumbles where his head is rested in your neck after he’s settled, but he makes no effort to move. You nuzzle into the mane of hair and breathe in his scent; it’s a lavender-scented shampoo that Yamada insists on buying for him. He never accepts it without complaining, but he also never showers without using it. There’s a spare in your bathroom, at the Agency’s bathroom and at his teacher’s dorm at U.A.
“Y’know, I was really surprised for a moment that you became a teacher.”
He makes no movement, but you know he’s listening.
“But as soon as I thought about it, it made perfect sense. You care so much it sometimes hurts to watch…”
You feel his fist tighten around your bedding, but he stays otherwise quiet still.
“You hurt watching me, too, right? How we both have a habit of bending over backwards for what we perceive is right.”
You start dragging your hands through his hair, letting out a sigh.
“I like that we know each other so well. I like how after so many years, you’re still right here in my arms…”
You pause as his upper arm snakes around you, a sharp exhale against your neck.
“You’ve never dated anyone. At least, not anyone you’d tell me about, so I have no idea where this will lead me to but,”
You take a moment to gather your nerves. There’s really no backing down now. Even if you regret it, your words have already given your feelings away; there’s nothing you can take back.
There’s nothing you want to take back.
You’re about to continue your confession when Aizawa pushes against your neck, his warm lips, soft despite the dryness, presses against your pulse point. You can hear your heartbeat so loud in your ear that the rustling of the sheets from Benben is indistinguishable to you, the only sensation you’re able to take in being Aizawa’s lips as they briefly pull away from your neck, only to push back higher up, closer to your jaw.
You whine and pout, but it’s shaky and without much force. You want to protest, scold him for interrupting you but suddenly he lifts his head to face you, and you’re faced with wide eyes and blown pupils. He steals a glance at your lips before he licks his own, pink tongue peeking out. You feel like a cornered prey, one that’s about to be devoured by a beast. When he hovers mere millimeters above your lips he pauses as if to ask for permission and the sigh you let out makes him know that everything’s okay. That everything he’s ever wanted, wished for, dreamed of, is real.
That losing your memory for a second made you desperate to make more meaningful ones.
And you kiss.
While curiosity did kill the cat, satisfaction definitely brought it back.
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onebizarrekai · 4 months
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I just read DS Ink's backstory and I am curious about how DS acted(and looked) before being snatched up by the military? If he had not been snatched up by the military at a very young age and turned into a human weapon. Would he still be a douchebag or just nicer?
about that. I'm not entirely sure. back when I was working on the story, I never thought much about it. (also the funny thing about ink being called a douchebag back in the day is that it seems super weird to call ink that, haha. he's just very blunt and always says what he's thinking even if it's not kind or thought-through. plus some other odd thought processes of his regarding his work. don't worry about it.)
I think there are some parts of ink's personality that are consistent, like the no-filter thing, since his/her personality is very similar in fatal flaws and there's no military backstory there. in any case, in ds, he was taken when he was little, so his personality wasn't particularly strong at the time. he was probably just a misbehaved kind of kid and would've grown into a misfit teen. one of those kids who gets told "you're talented so why don't you try harder :(" all the time and keeps getting his parents called into the office.
this is a tangent, but to be honest, ink's whole military backstory isn't very fleshed out. it was one of the last things to be added to ds before I stopped working on it and a lot of the ideas relating to it, and the details never really grew on me. a lot of stuff regarding his difficulty with feelings were not very articulate or thoughtful. I think now the whole thing about him being brainwashed by the military, the thing about the electroshocks and the codewords, was pretty contrived (did I ever even explain those?). it was basically just 'look, he's like an edgy winter soldier version of ink sans, he has a big band thing' and now I'm just like. wow, that sure doesn't work. even if I tried to make it a dark comedy thing, it doesn't really fit that well to me.
I think I prefer the idea that he got taken in by his country's military, barely remembers his family who willingly gave him up, and that's about it. and because he was raised that way, he thought there wasn't anything else to his life. and so, he's used to being ordered around, and that's why he went on to work for jr so quickly. there's just no point in his entire will being compromised by a military when all they have to do is tell him from a young age that he's being a hero, even if he stops believing it when he's older.
so, anyway, sorry about turning this into a rant, I've just been thinking about it recently. ink was just a normal kid. who like, apparently had weird inexplicable superpowers. ds's lore sure is a thing. and yeah, the problem is, if you take away his brainwashing, there aren't any other explanations for his amnesia unless he has trauma-induced memory gaps, but uh. I sort of forgot he had amnesia until right now. that's what happens when you make a character out of order.
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turbulentscrawl · 5 months
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Identity(V) Headcanons: Luca Balsa
Next up!
Again, I am new to the IDV fandom, and I have never played the game, so these headcanons are informed by my ongoing lore dives sourcing the wiki, japanese twitter responses, comics, stageplay, and more! Some of these may relate to or even contradict character backstory, and some of them are just pure vibes for me. If you like it, consider shooting a request ;)
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-So to start, I personally headcanon that Luca initiated the fight that led to the electrical accident. He’s always been hot-headed and impulsive, especially in regard to the source of his pride. I don’t think he intended for the confrontation with Alva to end anywhere near the way it did, but I do think he felt a good shove or two were well-warranted when he found out "his" ideas were being stolen. It’s when Alva fought back a little too viciously that the accident happened—and it well and truly was an accident. Not that it matters much when the only survivor doesn’t remember the event at all.
-He has headaches regularly, and terrible migraines at least once a week. He’s yet to find a way to relieve the migraines and, even worse, they are typically followed by an episode of more intense amnesia. Under normal circumstances, Luca’s memory problems are manageable. He doesn’t remember the accident, and there are massive blackouts in the memories beyond it, but on the average day he only struggles with small details of more recent events. During these post-migraine episodes, though, he completely loses all context for where he is, what he is doing, and who the people around him are. Most of the time, the important bits come back…but not always.
-Forgotten memories are also sometimes sporadically triggered by something mundane. A word, a texture, a sound, and suddenly he’s frozen stock-still in the face of a one-person cinematic viewing. By the time he turns to tell someone about it, though, the memory is gone again.
-To try to combat these issues, Luca keeps notebooks stashed everywhere. He writes down anything that might be important, as well as anything sentimental. The obvious issue with this, however, is that he doesn’t always remember where he keeps these notebooks.
-Despite his memory problems, his personality is largely in-tact. He maintains a lot of gentlemanly mannerisms and is cordial, if not outright friendly, to just about everyone he meets. Generally, he’s only “rude” in the sense that his attention tends to shift very abruptly.
-He’s the sort of person who appreciates variety. In people, food, scenery, just about everything. Part of why he gets along with so many people is because he can genuinely appreciate all manner of skillsets and hobbies. Likewise, to be a friend to him you only need to show appreciation for his work; understanding is not a requirement.
-It’s canon that he dislikes noise, but enjoys music. These might seem like clashing sentiments, but what it really comes down to is expected noise. Music can be relaxing, inspiring, rush-inducing! It holds your mind’s hand and hurries it along its thoughtful way. JUST noise is…chaotic, distracting, and sometimes startling. Plus, Luca likes being able to hum along while he works.
-It’s common to be static-zapped if you touch him. Long-term contact can even cause your hair to start standing on end. Unfortunately, it isn’t something he can control, so just be prepared to deal with it.
-The best Love Language to give Luca is Quality Time. He can honestly work with pretty much all of them, but Quality Time checks multiple boxes—especially if you’re good with parallel play. For one, he gets so busy with his work that it sometimes makes him feel guilty for neglecting the people he cares about. If you’re comfortable just hanging around his space, doing your own thing while he does his, it’s easier for him to check in with you between the erratic come-and-go of his thoughts. Those small bits of time add up, and he feels much better about his workaholic nature. Second, the more you permeate his memory, the less likely he feels he is to forget you. One of the few things he doesn’t struggle to remember is himself, his own name, and if you’re always there maybe it’ll be the same for you.
-He has trouble balancing his priorities. He often foregoes food, sleep, hygiene, and even his loved ones in favor of working on his invention. Sometimes he’s so absorbed in it that he doesn’t even understand the weight of hurtful decisions, but even when he does, he’d find it difficult to change.
-It’s also never impossible for the emotions that caused the accident to rear their head again. If someone were ever to intentionally sabotage Luca’s work or unapologetically steal his ideas, he may very well lash out with violence. Even if it were an accident, there’s no guarantee he wouldn’t be enraged.
-Luca has no idea what he’d do with himself if he ever did finish his invention. The guilt he feels for what may-have-happened is confused and warped, and he keeps it buried beneath his weighty obsession with the one thing he’s never forgotten…but if it were ever to be out of the way, Luca might be consumed by darkness.
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Hello, I was wondering if you have any prongsfoot fic recommendations?
I’m pretty new to the ship (and fan fiction) and it appears to overrun with literally ever other ship. So I hope you don’t mind my asking.
I appreciate any help you willing to give me.
💜💜💜
Hi hayati <3333 yes ofc with pleasure. fair warning: my taste in fic (and especially prongsfoot) is sometimes very questionable so check the tags before reading anything.
Pioneers (134k, complete) is like. one of the most popular legendary longfics in the fandom. if toxic/unhealthy codependent dynamics is your thing, it's a must-read. the atyd of j/s except its actually good
On Fire, But We Can't Feel A Thing (100k, 20/?) by @benjamin-ovich is my most re-read fic ever, i am obsessed with it. also a little unhealthy but they're trying lol. amnesia, getting back together, lots of pain for the soul, can not recommend this one enough, seriously. (make sure to subscribe bc i was promised that more fucked up prongsfoot is coming our way)
the ghost of you, it keeps me awake (50k, 12/?) by @gracelesslady23 is a james comes back au set during ootp that I really really love, it tackles all the important issues in this timeline.
Em also has another new wip called you'll see me in hindsight which is an age gap fic where Sirius accidentally time jumps 22 years forward when he is 18. and it's just. soul crushing and drool inducing all at once. mwah.
Anything at all by @padfootastic on the blog or AO3 because I'm obsessed with the way Pen writes them. Some personal favs of mine are i fall to pieces, we should be lovers instead, this unholy smut drabble that's still stuck in my head.
KaiSkitty (@roalinda) has a lot of great works, including the on-going Heaven fic, which is an age-gap, james-comes-back au with a really great premise and amazing worldbuilding.
@siriuslystarbucks's AO3 is an absolute goldmine for anything Prongsfoot, whatever you might want. I aspire to reach this level of dedication one day. The most recent one I've read is Just Come Home, with a s/omc toxic relationship and pining James and a happy ending.
@mycupofrum also posts amazing prongsfoot both here and on AO3. check out Bathe with me for some hot prefect bathroom smut.
@prongsfoot-microfic is an on-going event of daily j/s microfics.
And if I may humbly suggest :)) my own AO3 works as well. My most popular one is Benefits and my most fucked up favourite one is little do you know. + i have lots of things in progress for this month, so [pewdiepie voice] like and subscribe for more.
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orcasoul · 5 months
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Remember Cyar'ika Part 1
Okay here goes. This is my first fanfic ever. I'm by no means a writer but hopefully someone will enjoy this Din Djarin story.
Summery: Reader and Din are in a relationship and have been tracking bounties together. She gets injured during a hunt and has amnesia and can't remember her life with Din. Din promises to be there for her no matter what.
Warnings: angst, swearing, violence, use of Y/N
Italics indicate inward thinking
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You slowly open your eyes but everything is hazy. The intense ringing in your ears is accompanied by the sounds of blaster fire. Realising you're face down you lift your head only to be greeted by a blinding pain shooting from the back of your skull to your forehead and slowly everything turns black. You open your eyes again, this time to a bright and airy room. It takes a minute for the blurry vision to subside and to be able to focus. Your limbs ache like you've never felt before and your head feels like it's been stood on by a Bantha. The soft beeping of a monitor and the smell of disinfectant tells you that you're safe in a medcentre. "Cyar'ika?" You slowly turn your head to where the voice is coming from. "I thought I'd lost you." The voice is raw with emotion which only added to your confusion as to why this strange, black T-shaped visor is hovering over you. Maybe he's a doctor? But why would a doctor be on the verge of breaking down? No, this man is clearly concerned about you.
The longer you study the visor the more you begin to panic. Am I supposed to know this man who clearly knows me? All you know is he is a Mandalorian as evident by his Beskar armour. He gently raises a gloved hand to caress your cheek but you instinctively flinch away from such an intimate touch from a complete stranger. As you do his hand stops mid reach and you see his shoulders tense as he clearly wasn't expecting such a reaction. "Wh... what's wrong, Cyar'ika? It's okay, you're safe now. I'm here." You reply with stunned silence and confusion, unable to process what is happening and you begin to hyperventilate. After a few seconds the Beskar clad man tries to calm you. "Y/N, you're in a medcentre. You're going to be okay, just breath, slowly." He begins to breath in and out slowly to encourage you to copy him. After calming your breathing to a steady rhythm you notice his hands gently holding your shoulders and again, you feel the need for personal space and shuffle away from his hands.
The hurt and confusion is evident from this man, even with a helmet covering his face. "Wh... who are you? What are you doing in here?" "What?" his tone becomes almost frantic. "What do you mean?! Do... do you know who I am?" Looking at him wide eyed, you shake your head no. "Am I supposed to know you?" "Y/N it's Din!" "Who??..." The panic intensifies. "What's going on? I don't know you. How did I get here?" The panic becomes too much and you start to feel light headed as your hearts pounds in your chest. The low hiss of his helmet fills the room as he quickly takes it off and fixes you with a concerned gaze, unable to speak and clearly stunned by your reaction to him. As you look into his deep brown eyes you notice his expression changes from confusion to heartbreak as he realises the gravity of the situation. "I'm going to get the medic, I'll be right back."
He puts his helmet back on, turns on his heel and swiftly leaves the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts, trying to piece together the events that led to this moment. But you can't remember anything and again confusion leads to panic. You try to sit up but the room begins to spin and you find yourself clutching at the back of your head where you can feel bandages and slight swelling. It's at that moment the 'stranger' who doesn't act like a stranger returns with the medic. "Y/N I'm Doctor Tepu. You're at Gazno medical centre in Mos Eisly. You've sustained a serious head injury and we had to put you into an induced coma while waiting the swelling to go down. How are you feeling?" "I..." your breath catches in your chest and for a moment you're not sure how to answer. You want to say you're okay but you're not. You're terrified at this moment. "I Don't know..." you murmur in a weak and shaky voice.
"Some degree of confusion is expected at this time," the doctor states in a very matter of fact tone. "But as the swelling continues to decrease you'll find it easier to manage." "Doctor?..." you say wearily while eyeing the man beside him, "Who is this man and why does he say that he know's me?"The doctor glances between you and the Mandalorian, his face filled with concern. "You see! This isn't normal. You didn't say anything like this could happen." The Mandalorian's voice is desperate now. "She doesn't remember me!" The doctor calmly insists they talk outside your room while you get some rest. Such an impossible fear right now, you realise as you quietly cry into your palms that are now covering your face. Between deep, shuddering breathes you hear fragments of their conversation. "Brain injuries are very complex. This could just be temporary while she recovers." "And it it's not?! You need to do something, help her, please!" he shamelessly begs the doctor. The Doctor gives him a sympathetic look, "We're waiting on the results from her latest scan and we'll go from there."
Slowly the door opens and your attention is brought back to the Mandalorian. As he slowly sits down beside the bed and removes his helmet you can't help but stare, shock and fear still written all over your face. "I need you to tell me everything because I can't remember a fucking thing!" Frustration threatens to burst out of you in tears yet again. The sombre looking man takes a deep breath, "I'm a bounty hunter. My name is Din Djarin. We've been working together for the past six months collecting quarries. The last one went... wrong, and you got seriously injured. You're lucky I got you here when I did." He looked at you, hoping you'd start to remember but continued, "And we... uh..." he looked uncomfortable now, "We're together." Your eyebrows shot up at that revelation. "You mean like together, together?"
All He can din is offer a weak smile and a nod. Your head feels like it's going to explode! What the hell? How can I not remember a man I've been with for the last six months? This is all too much. "I'm sorry but... I don't know you," your voice cracks as you say it. You don't know what's worse; The fact you can't remember him, what you were to each other or the look of utter devastation across the face of a man who clearly cares deeply for you and you heart begins to break for him. Feeling completely overwhelmed by the situation you turn away form him and lie down, explaining that you need some time alone. His voice is clearly pained as he responds, "I'll come back later, once you've had time to rest."
Din feels a torrent of confusion, anger and heartbreak as he steps outside into the unrelenting heat of Tatooine's two sun's. He blames himself for what happend. If he'd gotten to you sooner then that Twi'lek wouldn't have had a chance to throw that grenade and for that he'll never forgive himself. He slammed his fist against the wall causing passersby to stare at his outburst, while he was to consumed by grief to notice or even care. He recalls the doctor's words, this could be temporary, and he clings to that hope like it's his lifeline. "Dank Farrik," he cursed in frustration, "I'm so sorry, Cyar'ika. I let this happen." He made a silent vow at that moment; To support you and look after you, no matter what. After returning to the Razor Crest to bring you some fresh clothes, he walks to the market to buy you some essentials for your stay in the medcentre.
Upon his return the medecentre Din is greeted by Doctor Tepu, who has the scan results. "Hi Y/N," the doctor greeted warmly as they both enter your room, "We've received your results and I'm sorry to say that the healing process has been slower than anticipated but you will make a full physical recovery in time. However, amnesia is very unpredictable and at this stage it's impossible to tell if it'll be permanent." You blink to hold back the the tears, feeling numb and exhausted. Din's heart aches for you and he suddenly feels angry with himself for failing to protect you. This is all your fault! He mentally berates himself. The doctor continues, "With rest and plenty of fluids you should be well enough to be discharged in a couple of days. I'll let you get some rest now." Din takes the seat next to your bed. "I'm so sorry Cyare. I should have protected you. I failed you," his voice trembling, he reaches for your hand. Even though you don't know him you allow him to hold your hand, hoping it will provide some sort of comfort to him. "I'm going to do everything I can to help you through this, I promise," Din declares to you, determination in his voice.
Four Months Later
You wake to the ceiling of the bed chamber and the same hope rises in you as it has every morning since coming back to the Razor Crest. Hope that today something about the ship or something about Mando (as you've started calling him) might jog your memory. You didn't want to admit it to yourself but you have felt that hope slightly diminish over the past couple of weeks. Surely by now something should have seemed familiar but so far every day has been a frustrating disappointment. It's been hard for Din too. From the moment you returned to the Crest (as suggested by the doctor, who believed the best way to help the recovery process was to go back to your normal routine) Din has done everything possible to make things easier for you as you adjust. He even insisted you take the cot while he slept on a sleeping mat in the cargo bay.
You feel guilty even now, knowing you are on a soft bed while he has to endure the cold cargo bay on a less than adequate mat but no matter how many times you try to convince him to take the cot instead, you've learned by now that when his mind is made up, there's no changing it. After using the fresher you ascend the ladder to the cockpit where Din is busy plotting a course to the next bounty. "Good morning Mando," You say as you sit next to him in the co pilot seat.
Din once asked why you called him Mando, a hint of sadness in his voice. "Everyone we meet calls you Mando-" you begin, but are cut off, "Yes, but not you," he replied as though it should have been the most obvious thing. "I just think... it's probably for the best as I don't know you that well and..." you stop suddenly, realising what you had just said must have punched a hole through his heart, as his shoulders slumped and his helmet tilted down slightly. You knew even with the helmet on his expression is one of hurt and sorrow. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean it like that..." you begin to ramble until Din delicately placed his hand over yours, the warmth of his skin seeping through his leather glove into your hand. In a soothing voice he said, "It's okay Y/N. If you want to call me Mando I understand. I don't want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable." You look into his inky black visor with teary eyes and nod gratefully.
"Did you sleep well?" He asks with a tilt of his helmet and a soft tone that instantly eased any anxiety you woke up with. "Yes, thank you," you smile at him, "But I wish for once you'd take the cot." "Wouldn't dream of it," He brushed off your offer again. You knew he would but you wanted to try anyway. "We're headed to Naboo this time," he informed you in his low monotone voice, while placing a holo puck on the control panel. "It's an easy target that should pose no danger." You nod knowing he's only taken low risk missions since your accident, not wanting to risk getting killed and leaving you all alone in this galaxy. The depth of the love you can see and feel he has towards you is overwhelming sometimes and you can't help feeling guilty that you don't feel the same (or that you can't remember that you feel the same). And even though he tries to hide his emotions under all that impenetrable Beskar there have been times when you've seen his cool demeanour start to crack.
The times when he hasn't heard you approach and he's lost in his thoughts and obvious sadness only to shake it off and become the stoic Mandalorian he always presents when he realises you're there. There have been instances when he has absentmindedly called you 'Cyar'ika' or 'Meshla' and apologised when he saw awkward you felt. You assured him there's no need to apologise and that you know this is hard for him too. "You know Mando, the doctor said to go back to our normal routine," whatever normal is, you inwardly huffed, "But taking the low risk bounties isn't what you used to do by the sound of it, and I know you're doing it for me. I feel like I'm holding you back and-" Din quickly turned in his seat to face you, "You've never held me back from anything. You are my priority and I'll always put you first and be here for you. If that means taking safer bounties I'm happy to do it." The sincerity of his voice helped to slightly ease the guilt you constantly feel.
Sometimes you feel it would be better for him if you left and he could move on with his life. You're brought out of your thoughts by the roar of the Crest's engines as Din starts it up ready to depart. His gloved hand hovers over the control buttons and for a split second you feel an overwhelming desire to reach out and hold his hand, as if your hand belongs in his. You have a brief visualisation of running your fingers tenderly over the blue triangle adorning his gauntlet, tracing the shape. Is this a memory or just a desire you have now? You decide to keep this to yourself, at least for now because the last thing you would want to do is give Din false hope. Once you'd landed on Naboo Din shut the engines down and began his preparations to track down the quarry. It's a Nautolan wanted for jumping bail while awaiting trial for smuggling charges.
"Y/N, I want you to wait for me in the cantina while I track him down." You nod as this is the usual way things go lately; He hunts and you wait. There have been times when you've wanted to accompany him, feeling strangely drawn to this kind of lifestyle, but Din vehemently refused every time since he almost lost you. He'd told you once that you used to do these jobs together and that you were more than capable of working alongside him, but since you have no memory of your past exploits into the dangerous world of bounty hunting he didn't want to risk your safety. So for his peace of mind you agreed to stay behind every time. It's the least you could do for him. The cantina is bustling with all kinds of people; Twi'lek's, Quarran's, Aleena's, Toong's etc. Such a mixed bag. Sitting at the bar you can't help but enjoy the atmosphere as a band of Biths play their various instruments and happy chatter and laughter fills the air.
You order a glass of Bespin Sparkle and lazily tap you foot to the rhythm of the band. An hour later the room abruptly turns silent as the Mandalorian enters, turning heads and eliciting quiet whispers as he walks through the crowd with the confidence you've grown to admire. "You're back sooner than I thought," you smiled, eyebrows raised in surprise. "Told you it would be an easy one," Din replied with a tone of smug satisfaction to his voice, gesturing to the Nautolan behind him, cuffed and head held low. "Come on, let's go back to the Crest," Din insisted softly, as he faintly places his palm on the small of your back to lead you out, and you can't help the butterflies you feel in your belly at his feather light touch. Whenever he shows care and tenderness like this it makes you feel safe and you can't deny that over time you have become attracted to him but you would never act on it because again, you don't want to give him false hope.
It's late when you arrive back at the Crest and Din wastes no time in encasing the quarry in frozen carbonite. After eating a ration pack for supper you bid Din goodnight and retire to the sleeping chamber. You're not sure how long you've been asleep when you suddenly jump up, gasping and shaking! You can't remember what you dreamed about but you're sure you heard the sounds of blaster fire. Not knowing if you dreamed it or if it came from outside you nervously open the door to the bunk and notice the ramp is open. It's never open this late and a pang of worry spreads through your gut. "Mando?" you call out; No answer. Cautiously walking outside it's evident there's no danger. You must have dreamed it. The woodland surrounding the Razor Crest is bathed in the silver glow of the moon and the only sounds you can hear are the nocturnal creatures that have emerged.
Looking up at the stars you feel a sense of peace wash over you as you get lost in the wonderment of how many more worlds there must be that are too far away to discover. You're suddenly brought out of your reverie by a flash of silver reflecting the moonlight in the not too far distance of the treeline leading into the woodland. As you squint to focus you realise Din is making his way into the woods. You decide to wait for him to return and sit on the ramp, looking back up at the ocean of stars, and listen to the insects and forest creatures going about their business. After a while of waiting for Din, you begin to grow concerned, wondering why he hasn't returned yet. He couldn't have gone too far, you think to yourself and decide to check the area you saw him walk into. As you slowly approach the treeline you are halted in your steps by an unfamiliar sound. Your heart sank as the realisation hit you. It's Din and he's crying.
His voice sounds un-modulated and you realise he has taken off the helmet. The lack of the enhanced senses of his helmet must have been the reason why he didn't hear you approach, that and the intense grief he's currently lost in right now. "I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough to protect you Y/N. I miss you.... so much!" Din hasn't felt this depth of loss and despair since losing his parents as a child. He's at a complete loss, knowing there's nothing he can do to help you and his heart feels heavier every day. But he will gladly bare this grief if it means keeping you safe. How he longs to reach out to you and hold you in his arms again, stroke your silky hair and whisper softly into your ear as you sleep, feel the intimate and loving connection you have both shared time and again, but as time goes on he feels the possibility slipping away into oblivion. It's absolute torture to love someone so deeply and not be able to tell or show them. He sighs and leans his head back against a tree, trying to clear his mind by focusing on the sounds of the world around him, trying to calm down before he makes his way back home.
The last thing he wants is for you to see him like this but little does he know you've just witnessed him in his most desperate and vulnerable state and it was agonising to hear. You've never heard so much pain and anguish in anyone's voice like you just heard in his. Clutching your hand over your heart you quietly turn and walk away. You feel as though your heart just broke into a thousand pieces, all for him. Tears stream down your cheeks as you walk back to the ship. Entering the sleeping chamber you close the door and fall onto the mattress, burying your face into the pillow. Suddenly all those repressed emotions from months of guilt and the despair you'd just witnessed from Din, along with the heartbreak you feel at causing him this pain erupted from deep within you and you screamed into the pillow, staining it with your tears that just won't stop flowing! After a few minutes you manage to compose yourself as the tears begin to ease but not stop. You close your eyes and take a deep breath as you are hit with a sudden clarity; You have to leave him, for his sake.
Part 2 to follow immediately.
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catsidhesilvie · 5 months
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So in my D&D campaign, Zilvra the feylost drow druid-turned-warlock with fey-induced amnesia has had a lot of character development! She is so fun and my favorite ;v;
Our group adopted/saved/kidnapped(?) an orc, who is now a sort of apprentice for our cleric. This session, they were working on teaching him to read before bed, lol. Someone asked how tall he was at some point, and we realized that, with how tiny drow are, Zilvra and the orc would have a tiny evil lady/himbo henchman vibe going on, and the cleric immediately shipped it. I leaned into it, and it has been hilarious.
Unfortunately for her, one of her parting "gifts" from the feywilds was that any flower wilts in her presence, so..... haha.
We also had the big reveal from the DM this week that she was actually a Lolth-following drow before being fey-napped!
I had told the DM in session 0 that I am totally open to anything he wanted for her backstory with my framework, be it naturally good drow or traditional Lolth drow who learns to accept outsiders after the experience, but he had suggested that I go ahead and throw an idea at him. I went with a modern Eilistraee-following drow backstory who lived with an above-ground druidic circle, so that she wouldn't seem too edgy. But the DM apparently had other plans and it was SO GOOD because I/the other players did NOT expect it at all!
We met another drow at the end of the session who recognized her, leading to exposition where we learned she had been sent from the underdark to get druidic assistance in ending a war against mindflayers. She was instead caught by fey for 200 years and failed her mission, leading to the destruction of their city :O But the matron of her house survived, and recently returned to their old home to try to rebuild....
So now she knows that, while she was a druid (circle of spores), she was not a particularly friendly one, and she has -angst- about what she will be like when she completes the mission assigned by her unknown fey patron and her memories are returned. Does she stay an adventurer? Does she return to her home in the underdark? Does she turn against her party? Or have they changed her?
I'm so flipping excited for this campaign. I love the other players/characters and the DM has put in so much work. I'm gonna be sad when we finish this campaign since it is only supposed to go to level 6 :')
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spacecadetomoly · 1 year
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Matsuno Family Diary! Part 5: Valentine’s Day with Choromatsu! Get ready for Chocolate and Body Horror! (Unofficial English Translation)
The following is an unofficial English translation of an official short story released online for members of the official Osomatsu-san fan club. If you want to read the original Japanese version of the story or enjoy the other things the fan club offers its members please consider joining: https://osomatsusan-fc.com/
In the room of the Matsuno family sextuplets there is a notebook hidden away behind a bookshelf. This notebook exists so that the brothers may, should they so choose, express the deep feelings and profound thoughts which weigh upon their hearts and minds so heavily that they can no longer be contained.
It seems that today someone’s hand is once again turning the pages….
February 15th 2022, Choromatsu
My name is Choromatsu Matsuno. No, the one who used to be Choromatsu…
Now that I think about it, the day before, February 14th, that was the last day we were human…
First, it was Karamatsu.
Suddenly, he started emitting a sweet smell, and then his body twisted and melted. From his mouth, he uttered incomprehensible words “Ai Rabu Yoo, Yoo Rabu Mee”*
Next to go was Jyushimatsu, then Todomatsu, followed by Osomatsu. The last remaining holdout aside from myself, Ichimatsu, ran out of energy two hours ago.
I am writing this diary alone now.
My brothers, who have become chocolate monsters, have merged into one being. There’s no way of knowing which body parts belong to who anymore. Even now they continue to spit out words of love from their misshapen mouths.
How did we end up like this? I’ve developed my own theory: Perhaps… because we didn’t receive chocolates from anyone on Valentine's Day, the love within us became corrupted and turned into an enormous amount of negative energy, mutating our bodies into the very same chocolate we so desperately craved.
I too…probably won't make it. My hands are shaking. My eyes are getting misty. I want to write one last thing down. In order to not produce any more sad monsters like us….
As an adult, unless you have a boyfriend or girlfriend, you don't get many chances to receive chocolate. We NEETs have even less so. So, all the virgin NEETs in Japan, please take action sooner.
Get a job immediately. It doesn't matter if it's a part-time job or whatever, just work in a place with a lot of girls. If there's a girl who likes holidays and events, she might say, "Let's all prepare chocolates and distribute them to everyone at work." If there are no girls like that at your job, get down on your knees outside. Then a kind person who feels sorry for you might give you some chocolate. If that doesn't work, make your own chocolates and get amnesia right away. If you have no memory, you might be able to delude yourself into believing the chocolates are from someone else. If that doesn't work disown your mother, then you could count any chocolates you receive from your mom as being from someone who isn’t a family member. If that doesn't work either then create a country where you are the king, and once you’re a king you can make Valentine's Day disappear! !
You don't want to do any of those things? Too bad, I’m afraid this is non-negotiable. I used to pretend that the custom of giving chocolates to each other on Valentine's Day was just a scam made up by confectioners. My brothers were the same way, and look where that got us.
We’ve all become monsters, and there’s no going back. If this is how it was going to end up, I should have been honest sooner. I should have been honest with everyone. If I had just asked for chocolate…
It's too late now.
If there are people reading this diary, I want you to do whatever you can to get chocolate.
If you can just get a single piece of chocolate, just one piece from anyone in any way, you won't turn into a monster…
P.S. The erotic book was not taken by me.
Translator’s Notes:
*I think what he’s trying to say here is “I love you, you love me”, Valentine’s Day-induced eldritch madness makes it challenging to articulate.
I like this one, it's spooky! And I'm a sucker for when forms of media that are usually comedic do something spooky, hence why I rewatch all of the Simpsons Treehouse of Horror episodes every year in October.
Up Next: Ichimatsu is a cat.
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Not trying to Monkey's Paw you but the only other ships I've seen for Endevour are Katsuki/Endevour, Mitsuki/Endevour, All-Might/Endevour, and Shoto/Endevour.
Look I'll take the All Might/Endeavor and /maybe/ Mitsuki but the other two can get fucking yeeted out of my brainspace I am inducing amnesia
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charlesoberonn · 1 year
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So I physically cannot get drunk (to the point of induced amnesia) unless I consume more that €490 worth of alcohol specifically (by Irish standards, from before the prices went up; information which I have learned upon seventeen instances of testing since 2018). So in and about 2020/2021, I overhear my sister Marion (G) Sex-talking with her boyfriend (C)ian. I being an absolute asexual have no stake in this, but am nonetheless disturbed, and elect to attempt to exceed my alcoholic limit (whatever it is) in order to purge my memory of this event from my mind, as I have heard (mainly via cartoons and ‘The Big Bang Theory’) is possible. Unfortunately, it did nothing, except that apparently after I fell asleep on my beanbag, I slept walk, told my Mum I needed to go to bed, informed my parents as to how far I truly was behind on my university course assignments, then went upstairs to bed. And awoke remembering everything but that. Although I was grateful to my (presumably suffering) ‘blackout drunk’ self to having told my parents about the assignment thing, as I had spend weeks trying to tell them I had no idea what I was doing, as it was a genuinely confusing course. Now this was during the pandemic lockdowns (which I never broke), to clarify, so this was quite annoying, especially as the alcohol in question belonged to my sister (who I had overheard), and I couldn’t say anything about it. Only months later, I went to stay with my uncle to complete my work (staying three months instead of three days as planned), and as we were both consuming vodka (preemptively mourning my grandmother and his mother, who was dying at the time), he accused me of drinking a bottle of vodka he had saved. Now while I didn’t do this, U was very confused (as it was the sort of thing I would do) and questioned whether or not my identically-Named cousin might have done it. Only to realise months (really two years) later that my uncle was in all likelihood the one who consumed the vodka — he was just confused due to the memory loss thing related to it (the vodka consumption) and forgot that he had done it. I just accidentally spilled two litres worth of whiskey I bought while my parents were out of the country for the weekend, so I’ll be ending the conversation now, but I hope you respond. You have been a guidance to how I view myself and the internet at large.
Thanks. I'm glad you like my blog.
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convexicalcrow · 1 year
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Cub musing about various methods to induce memory loss, as well as memory recovery, as well as thoughts on masks, possession, and his own experience with memory loss and how that feels.
I am tempted to do a follow-up with Scar and some Area 77 stuff bc they also had memory wiping tech, but idk if he'd actually commit any of that to paper, especially if it was something Cub could access. But idk, I'll think about it.
Transcript below so you don't need to read my chicken scrawl. :D
Methods for Inducing Memory Loss A potion of water-breathing corrupted with magma cream, and then with the sap of weeping vines, creates the most reliable amnesia potion. This combination took me a long time to discover, as it wasn't particularly instinctive in terms of finding the right combination to produce the desired effect.
My initial experiments with night vision potions and ink sacs ended up creating some very effective blindness potions, which I was then able to refine into other options to disguise movement, weapon fire, footsteps, voices with a ghast tear and ice crystals, lots of different uses. Nothing like what I was looking for, but all still useful nonetheless.
Even when I did stumble upon the right formula for amnesia, it's still taken many months to work out the dosages and how they actually work on memory. Scar and I are used to memory loss due to Vex possession, and it's mostly discrete blocks of time that get cut. We remember things if They allow it, but mostly They do not.
We do need to be wearing our masks, though, for the possession to work. The Vex have never said why this is necessary for unlocking the transformations They require, but masks have been used for possession in many cultures for thousands of years, so it makes sense that the Vex are tapping into similar magics.
Memory loss is common with these possessive magics too, thoughnot all possession does need masks. The memory loss was a surprise and a shock at first when Scar and I first got the Vex masks. I remember Scar spending hours trying to create potions to recover his memories. It did panic him at first, but the Vex soon manages to soothe him. Now he doesn't care.
For myself, I find it, well. I notice things floating into my dreams that feel like memories, even if I can't verify them. But I got used to the memory gaps because it's the price I pay for what the Vex have given me.
I will admit that I have, at times, dabbled in memory recovery potions. Just out of curiosity. Just to see if it can be done. That also took a while, but combining honey, milk, and gunpowder to night vision potions did seem to be the most reliable. Of course, I tested these on someone other than me or Scar. Scxar did offer, but I just felt the Vex would be mad if I used the potions on ourselves.
I'll have to write up these recipes later, because they require some quite difficult brewing. I needed to modify a brewing stand to get the concentrations I needed. Distillation is super important and has to be done with precision or the potions won't work. Memories are super sensitive to tampering, and an incorrectly brewed amnesia potion can remove far more than you intend, and a memory recovery potion that's too strong can recover things you may not wish to remember.
They are not potions to use trivially, and with little care. In many cases, there are reasons to simply let the memories be lost, rather than risk recovering or forgetting too much or too little.
Sometimes Scar and I stay up all night, thining about when we first got the masks. Remembering what we can about that time. The Vex, of course, have memories of all the pranks, and we're allowed to remember the final forms, but everything else is lost to us. Sometimes we revisit them, too. Not for any reason, just to- sometimes, it's nice to reassure ourselves they really happened. We did those things.
Last time we did that, Scar asked me if False remembers anything. I'm not really sure. She's never realy talked to us about it. I do sometimes feel Vex magic coming from her, but something always tells me not to pry. If the Vex still have business with her, that's for Them to deal with. We'll know if it's important to know. Until then, False is her own person. Can't say I don't think about it. She did wear a mask, even for a short time, and surely that has to have had some kind of effect. Maybe one day I'll ask her about it.
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hannahmanderr · 8 months
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I had the most wonderfully painful, angst-potential inducing, tragic idea last night at 2 am and I HAVE to tell someone and explain my vision or I’ll explode.
No one knows AU, except no one knows. Not even Danny. Especially not Danny. When he’s phantom, he fully knows and recognizes the massive and dangerous irony, but when he’s not, he has Fenton-parents level of hatred and a personal grudge against Phantom. Maybe Danny is even fully aware that not all ghosts are dangerous or evil, but he’s unshakably convinced that Phantom is. Whatever Phantom is “doing” to keep giving Danny memory losses and to keep trying to convince Danny’s friends that he’s Danny is just making it worse. (And if he ever manages to fix his daily amnesia? Well the “Danny must be possessed by that evil ghost boy so we must torture the ghost until he stops hiding in him” conclusion is less far fetched and maybe even something Danny and co. had preparations for.)
Aka: Superhero doesn’t know their own secret identity trope, but he also is trying to destroy his hero-self
SFDHDFSLSHLDF okay anon i'm gonna be real with you, this is not something i would be able to write in a million years FOR A NUMBER OF REASONS FDSHLJ mainly that i am a Fluff ChildTM and i hardcore struggle with reading and writing angst fsdhkkhjsdf
THAT BEING SAID you should write this!!! embrace your vision!!! take it and make it yours!!! a third thing!!!
no but fr i'm like sfajdklsdhfj (/pos) that you would think of me to send this to, but i'm all for encouraging everyone to write!! we don't have near enough writers imho and i'm always excited by someone having ideas to write! i'm probably sounding like a Motivational SpeakerTM BUT LISTEN I JUST LOVE SUPPORTING CREATIVITY DSFHKJL
(and if you do write it, shoot me a link and i'll be sure to share it!!!!)
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misscammiedawn · 1 year
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50 Days of HypnoKink - Day 23: Scent Play
Alignment: 100% Top. This is Dawn's signature.
With apologies to my silly science boy. I will give you the world as best I can package it, but this is one treat I cannot share with you.
Lavender is the scent of Miss Dawn. Lavender is the scent that penetrates you, surrounds you, coaxes you and lulls you in to soft surrender.
You may cover your ears to block out her voice, you may hide out of reach to avoid her touch or the taste of her lips, you may close your eyes to avoid being swayed by her commanding gestures and dazzling eyes, you may even try to plug your nose...
But you have to breathe some time and when you do, you'll notice that tint in the air, that flavor to the room, lavender softly accenting the moment, quietly corrupting, subtly lulling.
Drawing you ever closer to that inevitable surrender.
You cannot hide from my scent. You cannot resist my scent. You cannot resist me.
I have you.
...many scenes I tend to put on candles, defuse some essential oil or burn incense. It makes the space mine for a little while. I have conditioned Dolly enough that she already associates the scent and my presence/permission (both required, I do not want her lulling at lavender in public) with the sensation of trance.
It's the nearest I can have to a truly hypnotic aura.
Certainly I could set the lighting to a certain level (mental note: get multicolored LED lighting with a dimmer dial for your space in the future) and add some scenic music, wear specific outfits and generate the tone for a hypnotic space that is overt and inescapable. Any and every tool would heighten the mood.
But scent is subtle. It's something which doesn't demand or draw attention. There's some plausible deniability in there. Does it smell like that because it is my preferred scent? All of my toiletries are lavender scented. My bubble bath is lavender scented. Even my tea has lavender in it. When I say "this is my scent" I am not being hyperbolic. I want lavender to be synonymous with Miss Dawn.
I can see evidence that this has been the case since as early as 2004, with journal entries stating "her scent is lavender" when referring to my inevitable transitioned self.
This of course means the scent is attached to me rather than to trance.
Until I use the scent as a weapon.
Dolly is conditioned enough that all I need to do is make her consciously recognize the scent in order for it to drug her. "Does this smell like chloroform to you?" used to be a trigger, especially when I held a lavender soaked rag over her mouth and held her firm while she squirmed in resistance.
The most memorable time of which @redcap3 chronicled in a wonderful story called Snatch and Grab. Let's just say Puppet and I teamed up to gift our mutual girlfriend a *lovely* kidnapping scene.
Drug play is something I am newer to and I need to experiment with more before I can get it on the list, but it falls under the same umbrella.
My lovely lass once did a suggestion to perceive a drink I was having as a powerful sedative and every time a sip was taken it would induce a trance and provide amnesia so the next sip would come as just as much of a surprise as the first.
I have to admit, it caught my attention and I've been thinking of ways to do things since then.
As a final side note for Scent Play, I once wrote a hypnosis themed route for a visual novel. I utilized lavender as a scent in that script for pacification, obviously. As a reference to Jukebox's Girl stories I added strawberry as an arousal scent. Made it so the perspective character would succumb to insatiable arousal at the scent of strawberry.
I do not do that one in real life.
But I felt like mentioning it.
---
Day 22: Truth Spells
FULL SCHEDULE MASTER POST
Day 24: Writing in Trance
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mayordoi · 11 months
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PLEASE tell me about your Robin headcanons, I'm so curious now.
oh beans i didn't expect a response to my meme! (i mean, it has happened before but my answer was a bit undercooked) normally i'd say my headcanons are cringe and try not to talk about them but THIS TIME i am excited to indulge, mainly to have them written down on my art page :> this may end up being a long boy answer lol
(as a brief preamble, i've pretty much been building off of these robin headcanons since like, middle school or so (at least 5 years) for my smash fanfiction. while the amount of Stuff i've imagined for them might make them a bit different from their original characters, the context of awakening is what prevents me from turning them into full-on oc's)
anyway. i'm not responsible for any damages this may induce. the actual hcs will be under the cut
Both of them
so to start out, both the female and male variants are separate entities rather than like, alternate dimension counterparts. in fact, they're siblings (reeaally starting a bit out there i know). for reference, the girl (younger of the two) is named reflect (a misreading of the japanese name i grew attached to. it is what it is) while the boy is just robin. this is why i usually try drawing them with different clothes so they don't look like clones of each other lol. i like to think some aspects like the shirt and the black robe and tall brown boots are staples of the "tactician" uniform to explain any similarities.
neither have amnesia (since i just.. don't like the trope that much + i wanted to have them remember and reflect on their upbringing y'know). robin is actually a regular, normal blooded dude (which is why i don't really depict him in an evil grima-possessed form). reflect on the other hand did have grima's blood, which tipped off the grimleal in hopes to resurrect grima. however, much like the original awakening story, reflect's mama took her away out of fear of what the grimleal would do to her in pursuit of their goals. due to circumstances that i haven't fully figured out yet, robin was left behind and was raised by daddy dearest validar. reflect was raised by her mama and unaware of the grimleal or that she even had a brother/father at all.
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a fairly old but still good ref of their differences. i definitely took a lot of liberties with reflect obviously (i REALLLLY like robin's original design, main reason why i got so attached to the character, so i kept it pretty true to the original with some details i dont like redrawing sanded off). a lot of design elements developed over the years and came from various sources.
(strap thingies on the side were based on cipher art, stockings are based on heroes art of f!morgan, cloak is partially inspired by the grandmaster design (albeit heavily simplified), shorts... i just thought looked cool, blah blah)
ok enough rambling, time to ramble about them individually
Robin
if it wasn't clear by how i'd often draw robin with a tired/exhausted look on his face, he isn't exactly the most high-energy guy :p he's jaded and sometimes a bit of an asshole to people he doesn't know. pretty unapproachable generally. i hope the fact he was raised by validar would explain why. i imagine validar was particularly bitter about the grima vessel slipping out of his grasp and took some of that out on his remaining child.
his strict upbringing helped him become very proficient in tactics and magic as expected... but also a bit reclusive and not much of a people person. he'd travel around after being sick of validar's shit, which is how he crosses paths with chrom. chrom basically takes him in and lets him work as a tactician for the shepherds, which is an act that causes robin to become very attached and loyal to chrom. i'd say he's an established member for a few years before the events of awakening.
he's kind of unathletic (very skinny bastard) and probably has redditor posture (inspired by how slow of a runner he is in smash bros). magic is much more his "asset" ;) his sword game is mid if he's not wielding the levin sword.
he remains single to the end of awakening's campaign, but historians note he was "really good friends" with chrom (he is attracted to men lol. specifically chrom. but then chrom gets married which complicates things 🥴).
Reflect
in comparison to her male counterpart, she's much more free-spirited and bubbly. she's chill and great at making friends, a bit more accurate to the original. she was also raised to be a tactician, though she is comparatively still a novice. still, she's a quick and enthusiastic learner. i also imagine her to be kind of a risky thrill-seeker.
when she leaves her small community to explore the world, she comes across the burning village in awakening's first chapter, which is how she crosses paths with chrom. she joins his gang to further her learning as a tactician and to make some friends yeeaa!! (i haven't written as much about her as i make mrobin 😛)
she later marries chrom and becomes the mother of lucina.
I sometimes draw her with red hair tied in a black bow-- that's related to some non-fe fanfic stuff that is too convoluted and cringe for this already lengthy and cringe post. but it's an alternate look for her i think is kind of cute 😊
~~~
hopefully that's a sufficient enough answer, my brain always gets really scattered whenever i have to elaborate my robin hcs to someone else. i get a bit self-concious about them because i think i'm so far off-base with their original characters (but can't oc-ify them with some elements being based in the world/story of awakening) that i'll become like. public enemy of the greater robin community. but i know that's a bit ridiculous, so i let loose here as a means to get these many thoughts somewhere on my art page as a reference for when i draw these fellas in the future :)
there's also the separate tangent of their offspring, the morgans (or morgan being the girl, and marc being the boy) but this post is long enough as is so i'll just leave it there :,)
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eroticcannibal · 3 months
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Just to add onto what you and other anon said about things being ugly and difficult. I'm a system and the dissociation and amnesia and switching feel like they're ruining my life. But if I go to the nhs for a formal diagnosis there's still going to be no support. Just labelled and probably treated worse than I already am with a CPTSD diagnosis. There's no way to win. Try and juggle complex trauma and dissociative disorders on your own or get the label and the consequences that come with it and probably still get no support. Sorry for ranting in your inbox but christ you're right about how fucked it all is.
Yeah, the NHS is just useless when it comes to dissociative disorders. I am very, very lucky my problem alter seems to have fucked off and the worst consequence I've faced is a spent conviction. If it comes back I am fucked. I was never helped even when it got me in fucking legal trouble. Just called a liar regarding the dissociation and shoved onto more SSRIs (followed by another SSRI induced suicide attempt). I am glad they didn't pick up what was going on though. Cant imagine how much harder my life would be with a label like that on my records.
I live in constant fear that asshole will come back and it fucking kills me there will be no help if that happens. Guess I can always have a cuppa and do some breathing exercises though!
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ask-the-crimson-king · 3 months
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Oh hey, it's a fragments chapter:
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At just about the halfway-ish point. Huh. Interesting.
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And the fragments is them beating each other to shit. Excellent.
I enjoy the phrasing of calling the two "antagonists". Very careful word choice. Could've said anything else but instead chose that. Excellent. Wonderful.
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People as weapons, again.
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I still cannot get over the self-induced amnesia thing. It's hilarious, really.
But also Horus scrabbling at the answer as to why the Emperor isn't responding in the way he wanted to, why there's no emotion. I'm out here reading like "... did you not see it?" Malcador saw it happen, didn't Horus?
Apparently not.
And he didn't see Loken coming either, so. He just got outfoxed on that one.
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The second person perspective with Horus and having all of this happening is so fascinating. Who is talking? Why are they talking to Horus? Easy way out is to say 'it's Chaos' but it might be deeper than that.
Maybe the who doesn't matter. Maybe the 'why' is because this is just cool. I cannot say.
This book is drowning in so much symbolism and sigils that it's tough to discern what is and is not important to look at. It makes it very good to reread through. I might take a quick glance back through all of the volumes together to see what more I missed.
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And then we get THIS.
And immediately I had to stop and take a moment to process. Molech. So the visions that Maloghurst saw when he was trying to save Horus in Slaves to Darkness... were those, these?
If so, holy shit. If not, then cool. But it would be interesting if I am right. The fragments of Horus that were trapped in there are now fighting the Emperor. Awesome.
I love "he parries with Cthonia" that is so. So absurd, and so absolutely Warhammer.
I knew the fight would be strange and weird, but this is definitely not what I was really expecting.
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