#temporary memory loss

[serenefreakgeekao3]

Ever in our favour... Masterlist

PEETA MELLARK X GN!READER

You wake up with a migraine, surrounded by forests and kids that are more than willing to kill you. What have you fallen into the middle of? And why can't you remember getting here?

Arena fanfiction, cannon-typical violence, descriptions of blood injuries and death, descriptions of a panic attack, temporary memory loss, mentions of familial abuse, depictions of mutated creatures, established relationship, romance, kissing, fluff and angst, minor character deaths, action/adventure

Table of Contents:

Archive of Our Own

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT (FINALE)

[cuspidgoddess]

Chapter 10. March: Remember Me?

[whateverithinkof]

Daily Fanfic Rec (Day 6)

Yuri On Ice

4/30/2024

Masterlist

Title: Perfect Match

Author: Brittanica2015

Words: 1,623

Chapters: 2

Completed?: Yes

"Yuuri and Victor just got out of surgery and don't remember each other.

'That's Victor, your husband.'

'What! Really?'

'Really.' Phichit nodded, capturing everything with his phone.

'Are you sure?'

'Definitely.' "

-- -- -- -- --

A lighthearted take on a temporary amnesia fic! This one is def cute and has some amazing moments (it doesn't hurt that Phichit records Viktor and Yuuri's disbelief at them being husbands...) with a dash of Yurio for good measure.

[bafflement]

Deaged Oz AU - The Experiment

"Are you really sure about this?" Oz sounded highly dubious even as Ozymandias tried to reassure him.

"We need to know if it would work as a defence against Salem, child. Besides, this way we are doing it in a controlled environment, around those that would help you if the worst happened. Not that I think it would, but that remains an unfortunate possibility none the less." Ozymandias sounded defensive, but there was an odd note of worry to his mental tone that made Oz wary, too. What they were attempting had never been done before, after all. What if it went wrong?

"And you're sure you can reverse this?" Oz asked out loud, voice echoing in the empty room.

"Yes. That much, I'm very certain of. There are a lot of interesting theories concerning... never mind, child. I'll tell you later, but whatever happens, you will be just fine. If this doesn't work, then we'll just have to hope that Salem only sees what most people do when they meet you. No offence, Tip, but... you are a rather small child currently, after all."

Oz pulled a face at that. but couldn't deny the accuracy of the statement. People tended to find him cute, of all things. it was highly embarrassing. At least Nora had more or less stopped calling him 'little cute boy Oz'? Even if everybody still called him pocketsized... though at least that was a nickname Qrow had given him, so it was rather more acceptable.

"So, you want this to happen in the same room as the others, correct?" Oz asked, already moving towards the door. The others barely glanced up as he entered, though he was aware he looked nervous as he sat in a chair at the table and cleared his throat pointedly.

"What's up, pocketsized?" Qrow asked, looking up lazily. A lot of that laziness vanished, though, when he noticed just how worried Oz looked and he shot to his feet, looking alarmed. That managed to stir up the rest, several half rising, Ruby making an abortive reach for her weapon as she did so. Oz winced but made a negating motion with his head, which settled most of the kids back down. Oscar, however, didn't seem to want to sit and was already moving to lay a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"I'm fine, Oscar. There's merely something Ozymandias wishes to attempt, which was felt to best occur around company. He is attempting to remove himself enough that I am merely Tip, in case it works as a shield against Salem."

"Yeah, no, pocketsized. That doesn't fill me with confidence. Besides, how do we know we'll get Tip? We might get Winter... and either way, you won't know any of us."

"Apparently I should? He's taking most, not all. Enough to convince her that I'm not Ozpin, but not enough to damage anything. I think."

"I'm hearing a lot of doubts, there, Oz. Hey, can I talk to Ozymandias a second?"

Oz's eyes flashed, ceding control to Ozymandias, who found themselves being snarled at by a very protective Qrow, much to his confusion.

"Listen to me, king or not. If what you're attempting hurts Oz in any way, I will find a way to make you regret it."

Ozymandias blinked Oz's amber eyes, looking almost impressed. "i will endeavor not to harm the child, child." Qrow glared at him for the comment, but Ozymandias sighed. "You are a child, to me. All of you are. So very young, to bear my war..."

The eyes flashed gold again and Oz was back, still looking rather impressed with Qrow. His eyes and smile were very soft as he looked at him, though, making the kids feel like they might be intruding on something. It wasn't a good feeling, but at least it passed quickly as Oz got a highly focused look on his face again, eyes suddenly far away.

"Now, child? I need you to let go, go to sleep." There was a soft looking bed in the meeting place in Oz's mind, looking inviting to the boy. He looked down, blinking as he saw adult proportions, before shrugging and doing as he was told. He could feel himself relaxing almost instantly, blinking sleepily up at Ozymandias for a moment before his eyelids got too heavy to keep open. Ozymandias hovered, gazing down at the sleeping form, first Ozpin, then briefly... worryingly... Tip, then flickering back to the headmaster. He just hoped that flickering wasn't indicative of any problems out there.

The boy's eyes shot open and he stared around at the room, looking terrified as he did so. His eyes seemed to pass over most of them without truly seeing them, but locked on to Weiss with a startled cry of relief.

"Willow! I... where, where are we?" Weiss couldn't quite supress the flinch at his words. So, not Tip, then...

"... Winter? It's alright, you're safe here. Something happened, but we'll fix it. Nobody is going to hurt you, I won't let them."

"You... you're not Willow, are you? Where am I?" He was visibly starting to panic now, trembling from shock as much as from anything else, eyes wide and terrified.

"Ozymandias, now would be a good time to stop..." Qrow growled, making, brothers, Winter Schnee flinch. The boy's eyes met his briefly and there was the barest flicker of recognition before it faded.

"... Qrow?" He sounded fragile, hopeful, for a second, before shrinking further in the chair, making himself as small as possible, still trembling. He seemed to derive some comfort from Oscar's presence at least, even if nobody was entirely sure he'd actually noticed it yet.

"Yeah, pocketsized. It's me." There was no recognition now, though, whatever it was Ozymandias had been trying to accomplish had obviously gone very, very wrong.

"... Tip?" Oscar ventured, tentatively, and the boy stared at him as though only seeing his presence now he'd spoken.

"I'm... Winter, I... who are you? Where am I? Please?"

"I'm... I'm Oscar. I'm your brother, or at least I usually am? You don't remember me, do you?"

Winter just shook his head, looking overwhelmed. Oscar held his arms out to the younger boy, but Winter didn't take him up on the offer of the hug, still glancing at Weiss who'd also come over to join them.

"You're not Willow. But you look like Willow... what?"

"You, you are in the future, Winter. We're trying to fix things, but you will be alright. I'm Weiss, I'm your niece, Willow's daughter. I'm pleased to meet you, uncle." Her smile was tremulous but her eyes were genuine. After all, she never thought she'd ever meet the version of her little uncle that had been truly Winter.

In Oz's mind, Ozpin flickered again, first Tip, then Ozpin, then Tip... Ozymandias groaned. Whatever was going on, it was time to wake them up. The experiment had obviously gone very wrong somewhere. He reached out and shook the thin shoulder, blinking as it bulked up in his hand. The man in the bed flinched and shot upright, screaming. Outside, Winter screamed, too, then collapsed into sobs as Ozpin got up. His mind felt like a jumbled mess, disorganised scraps of thoughts fighting to make themselves heard amongst the sea.

He was Tip. He was Winter. He was Ozpin, Ozymandias, Ozaryn...Ozma... so many others. He was lost in the storm of memories and felt things start to click into place. Whatever else had happened, the merge was certainly far nearer completion now.

He waited, hoping that he'd be Tip again. That was all he could do.

Finally, the storm settled. Tip blinked around at the shocked looks on the other's faces, eyes aching from tears, throat sore from sobbing.

"My... apologies, my friends. I do believe that was a failed experiment." Oscar hugged him fiercely at that, Weiss laying one trembling hand on his hair. Qrow looked vaguely homicidal and Tip flinched.

"Let me talk to him, pocketsized."

"Not if you plan to scream at him, Qrow. To an extent, this worked. I wasn't Oz, I was someone else."

"You were Winter, pocketsized. That was... terrifying. No, the experiment failed. He doesn't get to do that to you again." Tip rooted in his bag for a second, finding his teddy bear and cradling it, looking lost and young and so very fragile and Qrow sighed. "That's not fair, Oz... you don't get to guilt me like that. Listen, I promise not to yell at him, but I really do need to talk to Ozymandias, okay?"

Tip nodded, eyes flashing gold.

"Never. Again." Qrow growled out, though at least Ozymandias looked apologetic.

"No. The experiment was, in certain areas, a success, but no. We'll find another way."

[whumppmuhw]

Whumptober Day 8: Dissociation

tw: blood, restraints, dissociation, temporary memory loss

This doesn’t feel real. And yet it was. Whumpee felt like they were dreaming, a hazy dream where any second they would wake up, but they didn’t. They decided to attempt a reality check. Whumpee could feel pain, their body was writhing in it, and the blood flowing from their body seemed real enough. They pulled on the chains keeping them to the wall, and those didn’t give. This must be real, but why do I feel like this? For a moment, Whumpee couldn’t remember what happened to them or how they got there. Their last memory was of being at Caretaker’s place for dinner, laughing and eating and having a good time. How did it go so downhill? Whumpee couldn’t remember, but that was the least of their problems. They were losing blood fast, and they didn’t know how much more they could take. There was nothing around them they could use as a bandage or to stop the bleeding, but they couldn’t process it and panic didn’t settle in. They just felt hazy. Whumpee didn’t know how long they sat there, in semi-darkness, watching their blood pool on the floor. At some point, a door opened, and blinding light flowed around a human figure. The light snapped Whumpee out of it. Everything got real really quickly, and suddenly they could remember the trunk of a car, a sadistic laugh, restraints, pain upon pain and their own screams echoing across the walls. The agony they were in seemed to increase in that moment, and they panicked at the pain they were in and the blood loss. The figure spoke. “You’re losing a lot of blood, I must have gone too far this time.” Whumper laughed, and Whumpee noted that he didn’t apologize. “Let’s get you stitched up before anything bad happens. I don’t want to say goodbye just yet.” This is real. Whumper moved closer, and Whumpee wished they were dreaming.

[maroontragedy]

HE'S UNBELIEVABLE!

HE'S INCREDIBLE!

HE CAN WIN THIS!

AKUTAGAWA CAN REALLY WIN THIS!

dude, that's your mortal enemy (now go propose or smth)

[wangxianficrecs]

Helping Yourself by nirejseki

Helping Yourself

by nirejseki (@robininthelabyrinth)

Not rated, 1k, Wangxian

Summary: Wei Wuxian leaves the Burial Mounds with a brand new power, but the resentful energies have so corroded his mind that he's forgotten - many things. The name of the cultivator in purple, for example. The reason they hate their enemies so much. All he knows is how he feels about them. And there's this one cultivator in white that makes him feel - something else. Wei Wuxian is pretty sure he knows what that something is. Kay's comments: A super interesting AU in which Wei Wuxian returns from his three months in the Burial Mounds unable to remember the people around him while still remembering the feelings he has for them, which leads to some heart-breaking and some fun conclusions! Excerpt: There was only one problem. At first he’d thought the one in white was the one in purple’s friend – they spent an awful lot of time huddled together trying to think of ways to cure him – but eventually it’d been explained to him that they weren’t. In fact, the one in purple said that the one in white had previously hated him. Wei Wuxian didn’t like that. He had no idea why he didn’t like that, but he didn’t. “You’re not allowed to hate me,” he told the one in white, cornering him one day and poking him in the chest. “You’re not. You need to like me. You understand? You can’t dislike me.” The one in white blinked. He had very long eyelashes, and pretty golden irises beneath them. “I don’t dislike Wei Ying,” he said. “Good,” Wei Wuxian said, satisfied.

pov wei wuxian, canon divergence, memory loss, temporary amnesia, short-term memory loss, propositions, hurt/comfort, hopefuly ending

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[kandicon]

Actually I can't stop thinking about Tim gaining a bit of weight during her time as Persephone and it's killing me now

[skebbles]

Doodles for chapter 2!

[mikami1992]

Crazy Idea #4.3

Part 1.    Part 2

Danny is furious...

He is already starting to see the future repercussions of the last 24 hours... and he already knew who was to blame...

He just had to say the "I wish" near Desire so that immediately a lot of people he doesn't know end up in the Ghost King's castle...

and some have not left yet!!

And in the little that he remembered (damn Al Capone's ghost liquor, he assures that he erases your inhibitions and leaves you with a blurred memory for a week), in his castle it happened:

-two weddings (he believes that he was the one who married them)

-a divorce (he is sure it was unilateral, if the cry of "YOU DARE TO TRY A DIVORCE, YOU WILL SEE ME, MY LOVELY HUSBAND" that woke him up says anything to him)

-He got engaged (he hopes that Damian Wayne's memories return more quickly, they have a lot to talk about)

- the union of some extremely dangerous people (his surprise when he entered the library to see Clockwork, an old butler, a pink-haired woman and... a talking rabbit stuffed animal?... having tea next to the chimney is something to see... he better get out of there as quickly as possible, he doesn't want to know what they're talking about)

-Some people are missing (where is Dani, Sam and .. Ember?, Skulker went by asking for his girlfriend, he don't knows since when she has been missing)

- Some people (spirits, gods, beings?) that he still doesn't know or remember are still in the castle (the bride and groom are in one of the towers still asleep... with clothes thank God... and a complete set of stuffed animals/spirits/talking gods are making a mess in the kitchen together with cujo)

...and many more things that he saw in his relentless search for him, all so that finally, after hours, he would find the culprit of everything...

"TUCKER!!!!!!!"

[impossible-rat-babies]

I am thinking about dirge despite everything that they still have bouts of dealing with the massive cranial damage that occurred at moonrise. like that is still very much there

[badassbutterfly1987]

Sometimes I'll write a character as disabled (or queer or neurodivergent, etc.) because I think it will add an interesting layer to them or the setting. And sometimes it's just cathartic projection.

Me, having a lousy pain day:

Me, looking at the characters I like/am comfortable writing:

Me: "Alright, which of you bastards am I writing as disabled?"

[hes-striker]

But what happens if Striker starts acting distant towards you? What would you do in that situation?

Blitzø: I can handle it! And Striker is way too stubborn to let things go! I’m sure���it’ll all work out…

The soft beeping of the monitors fills the hospital room as Blitzø walks in, a bag of takeout balanced in one hand. His face lights up when he notices Striker’s golden eyes open for the first time since the surgery.

Blitzø: *grinning, voice shaky with relief* Well, look who finally decided to wake up. Mornin’, sunshine.

Striker blinks slowly, his eyes glassy as he scans the room. His gaze lands on Blitzø, then shifts to Wesson and Winnie, who are playing on the floor with their blocks. He frowns, his expression confused.

Striker: *sits up, breathing heavily even with the oxygen mask over his nose and mouth* Who…? Who are y’all?

Blitzø freezes, the bag in his hand nearly slipping. He stares at Striker, his grin faltering.

Blitzø: What do you mean, ‘Who are y’all?’ It’s me, Blitzø. You know, your favorite pain in the ass?

Striker’s brow furrows deeper, his gaze locking onto Blitzø like he’s trying to solve a puzzle.

Striker: Blitz? That supposed to mean somethin’ to me?

Blitzø’s stomach twists. He forces a laugh, trying to brush off the creeping dread settling over him. He gestures toward the kids, who have stopped playing and are now staring at Striker curiously.

Blitzø: And them? These are Wesson and Winnie. Our kids. Don’t tell me you don’t recognize them.

Striker’s eyes widen slightly as he looks at the twins, but his face remains blank. He shakes his head weakly.

Striker: Kids? My kids? No… That can’t be right. I—I don’t know them. I don’t know any of you.

Winnie tugs on Blitzø’s jacket, her small voice breaking the heavy silence.

Winnie: Daddy, why’s Mr. Striker acting funny?

Blitzø’s throat tightens as he looks down at her, his heart breaking. He crouches to her level, brushing a hand gently through her hair.

Blitzø: He’s just a little sick, sweetie. He needs some time to get better, that’s all. Don’t you worry, okay?

Wesson frowns, his small arms crossing over his chest.

Wesson: He doesn’t look like he remembers anything. Did he bonk his head or somethin’?

Blitzø chuckles weakly, standing back up and turning to Striker. He leans against the bed, his smile forced but determined.

Blitzø: Don’t worry, cowboy. We’ll jog that memory of yours soon enough. You’re not gettin’ rid of us that easy.

Striker looks at him, unease flickering in his golden eyes. He says nothing, and the room falls into an awkward silence.

[zealctry]

the question that no one has ever asked themselves but needs to be addressed: Would Hidan survive a bullet through the brain? and the answer is yes, yes he absolutely would, and in time, he would recover from it perfectly, as if he had a blueprint of his prior neural connections that merely needs to be replicated/restored.

but in the interim, he might have the weirdest behavioural and cognitive changes/abnormalities, depending on the affected brain region(s) (either directly or indirectly) - that I, as a neuroscientist, can't help but be highly intrigued by.

[cherienymphe]

I wish I was that anon that just recently discovered your work so I could experience it again for the first time 😫 like there is literally no other feeling like finding a writer you love 😭

You guys flatter me

[harrysmaison]

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