"you're all I know"

[meme_maid]

an amnesiac shipping meme


You have no idea who you are.

One day, you just woke up from the darkness, confused and alone. You barely remember your own name, much less why you're here...or where here is, even. Your own body is strange to you, and if you have some kind of power or ability, that must be frightening. Perhaps you're angry at everything so new and different, lost in this strange world you don't understand or know your own place in. Maybe you feel the need to hide away, lest you be crushed by everyone out there who is sure to hurt you.

You are so, so alone.

Only you're not. There is one person, one person who's found you and taken you in. They've shown you kindness, looking after you while you can barely look out for yourself. Out of the goodness of their heart, they've shown you things, taught you things. Most importantly, they're giving you a new sense of identity. And for that, you've begun to appreciate them. More than words can say, actually. You care for them so deeply that your heart hurts around them. Is that normal? What is this feeling? You can't imagine life without them, and leaving them- That's something you could never consider. Is this lov...

The word's on the tip of your tongue, but you can't figure it out, exactly. What you can figure out is that you want to give everything you can to the person who's done so much for them. You want to stay by their side and make them happy. You want to protect them at all costs.

So no one would blame you for getting confused when you see them with someone else or getting angry when you believe they're in danger. And certainly it's only natural for you to get frustrated when you want to tell them what you think of them, what they mean to you, and you can't figure out what to do. Perhaps following instincts will do?

One thing you know is that this bond and these emotions will never go away, not even when you learn who you are.

RULES
- This meme is for examining what happens when someone with no memories, potentially someone with powers or skills that could be dangerous at the very least, develops deep feelings for the person who's taken them in or is helping them realize their past. It can be played as awkward, adventurous, tragic, cracky, fluffy, truly romantic, or anything in between. You can play at the beginning, the part where emotions have strongly developed, or even when the amnesiac has regained their memories and must now deal with new feelings.
- Reply with your character and preferences. Mention if you'd like to play the amnesiac, the caretaker/help, or both.
- The role of caretaker does not have to always be beneficial. Maybe they caused this condition in the first place so the other character would be dependent, loving, and loyal towards them.
- Reply to others and play.

Comments

Yagami Light | Death Note | OTA

[andeatit]

[Amnesia Light would be a lot of fun to play, but I won't refuse the other role.]

Princess Leia | Star Wars: Empire

[ouronlyhope]

[Either role]

Peter Quill || Guardians of the Galaxy

[volumeone]

[As the amnesiac]

Jemma Simmons | Marvel's Agents of SHIELD | OTA

[technicallysmarter]

Sherlock Holmes | BBC Sherlock | m/m

[desecrated]

Angsty Potterlock?

[captainwatson]

St. Mungo's may as well be a second home to John. But thankfully that's rarely been as a visitor or a patient, merely for him and Sherlock to frequent the mortuary dungeon or work in the potions lab to solve a case. In fact this is one of the few times he can remember going to the hospital with true dread in his heart.

It had been there since he'd got the howler from Mycroft this morning.

"We've found him, John. Alive but that's as far as the good news ends. Awful state. I'll send you a carriage and Anthea will explain the rest. He needs you."

And Anthea had, looking grim beneath her cool facade.

Two Muggles had found Sherlock earlier that morning along Fleet Street, whimpering and curled up, out of his mind. It had only been from an accidental spell that thankfully caused no harm that allowed the Ministry to track him down and take him in.

"Torture as a result of dark magic from a sadistic yet highly skilled wizard." the Healer updates John as he enters the Fourth Floor; "The Cruciatus curse along with a powerful memory charm, given how he doesn't seem to respond to his own name or recognise his brother. I must warn you, Healer Watson, he's frightened of even our most gentle nurses right now and his own shadow."

John winces at the thought. But he nods, walking forward to his private room.

Re: Angsty Potterlock?

[desecrated]

He's shaking, it hurts, it hurts, there's just... pain... he doesn't understand the blue light that came from his hands earlier, but that hadn't made them happy and they locked him up again.

His head hurts, it hurts, something's missing.
What. What's missing? It hurts, it hurts!
Help me.

They all want to hurt him.
Help me.

[captainwatson]

John is careful when he enters the room, instantly spotting the figure curled up in the corner, shaking like a leaf. The nurses seem to be frightened to go near him.

"We need to put these on him, sir. So he doesn't hurt himself." She explains, showing the blue gloves. Magic suppressors. Like a mystical straight jacket.

Hurt himself. Which basically translates to 'hurt us'.

John nods and takes the gloves but keep them inside his jacket for the moment. He steps closer and gets down to his knees.

"Hey...Sherlock? Can you hear me?" he says, soft but clear; "It's me, it's John. It's...it's your husband, sweetheart."

[desecrated]

He shakes and looks up. He feels... something. There's the blue light again. He can't remember the words. He can't remember... how to say them. Is the blue light normal?

He looks up at the man, suddenly the name 'John' registers...
"Don't hurt him. Don't hurt - don't hurt... please..." He can't remember why though, just it's important.
"Obliv..." he gripes his head...sinking his fingers in, but not clawing, it hurts.
He looks like he's ready to crack.

[captainwatson]

"Those are the first words he's spoken since he was brought in." The matron says, observing from the threshold.

John nods and shows his palms.

"No one is going to hurt anyone, Sherlock. I promise." He says, his heart breaking.

Obliviate. Merlin's beard, how could they? It was one of the most devastating memory curses. Some called it The Living Death. Not even a mind as brilliant as Sherlock's would be immune.

He's not frightened by the blue glow. Defense magic. Like a dog growling in warning but not wanting to hurt.

[desecrated]

He shakes a bit, not able to register properly.
No one going to hurt anyone? His mind feels... like it's breaking around the edges. He can't...
It hurts....
He looks at John ... the man's name is John.
He said husband. It could be a trick.
Please don't.

Help me.
He grips the sides of his head, whimpering.
It hurt.
It just... hurt.

Crucio, crucio, crucio..., he jerks suddenly, his spine arching back and he cries out in pain.

[captainwatson]

"Please, love, don't hurt yourself. It's okay now." He struggles not to cry at seeing Sherlock in such a state.

He might try to take Sherlock's hand and squeeze it, not caring if he gets jinxed.

He won't put the gloves on until Sherlock allows...or he has no choice.

[desecrated]

He lets out a pained cry. His hand hurt, it all hurt, help me.
He doesn't know what the man with the blue eyes will do... it just... hurts.
Inside his mind felt twisted and wrong and maybe he should remember this man but he can't.

Wes | Pokemon Colosseum | OTA

[withoutcontrolofmyself]

[Either works ^^]

Judai Yuki | Yugioh GX | OTA

[gentle_darkness_duelist]

Marie Kreutz l The Bourne Series l OTA

[reluctantaccessory]

Zevran Arainai | Dragon Age | Ota

[ombranera]

[ Good with both! ]

Poe Dameron | Star Wars [Closed to no_light]

[aprettyflyboy]

It wasn't the first time Poe Dameron had crashed.

Or rather, it wasn't the first time he was shot down in a dogfight. What bothered him wasn't the ship spiralling out of control towards the ground, it was the fact that it hadn't even been a proper dogfight. They had been ambushed by the First Order after following a distress signal that turned out to be a decoy. Such simple ruse, Poe was almost embarrassed by the rookie mistake.

Lights flashed on his communications board and the whole cockpit shock when the left wing was completely ripped off and sent flying behind him. His only comfort was that he had not been piloting the Black One and Bb-8 was safe at the base.

The side of the ship had been partially crushed after a nasty hit from a TIE fighter, the transparisteel of the cockpit now cracked and mangled to the point the canopy won't open and ejecting was no longer possible. It should have been a simple rescue mission. The thought came to him again as the world was turned upside down.

It was the last time Poe Dameron would remember crashing.

[no_light]

It had been Hux who told him that they had recaptured the pilot you lost - and for once, Kylo Ren had been glad that the general thought the worst of him, as it would keep him from questioning his outburst. With the mask firmly in place, all the General had seen was rage at his goading, and none of Kylo's horror at having one of his secret fears coming true.

Now stalking through the ship with his robes fluttering angrily around him, lightsaber still out and crackling for no other reason than to torment the twitchy junior officer filling him in, Kylo could only marvel at his bad luck.

It wasn't that Poe was shot down, he'd always known that would happen one day. Pilots didn't live long. But he just had to survive the crash, and just had to be found by troops who recognized him for the valuable target he was, and he just had to be taken to the Finalizer and Hux had just had to decide that making Kylo interrogate him would be a great way to rub his face in his previous failure to hold Dameron, never mind that it had been Hux's defective stormtrooper who helped him escape.

"That's not the way to the holding cells," he snapped when they stopped in front of medbay.

They hadn't taken him to the cells yet. Perfect. As if this wouldn't be even harder without familiar surroundings lending to routine.

His reputation was useful once more in getting the medbay cleared out, and then it was just Poe Dameron and him. He stood at the edge of the bed to which Dameron had been shackled, mended only so he could be broken again by torture. Kylo was still vibrating with fury and a distinct sharp tang of helplessness which only fuelled the fury. He'd always warned Poe he wouldn't protect him. But after what they had shared on Hoth, on Coruscant, he had shied away from imagining what would happen if Poe ever again got into his grasp.

He couldn't protect him, he told himself. He would not.

[aprettyflyboy]

There had been a lot of rough hands and rough voices in the past last minutes. Minutes? Hours? He wasn't sure how long he had been...whenever he was. Everything has been too bright at first, too painful. His whole body ached and his head was killing him. The sharp pain in his temple had reverted to a dull ache but it was still difficult to open his eyes.

He took in his surroundings, but the environment he found himself into was anything but familiar. His mind told him he was lucky to be alive, to have survived. But, survived what? He obviously had been sleeping, something he likes, but he's still incredibly tired to he might not have slept enough. Why was he tied to a bed? Did someone think he was going to hurt himself?

He didn't like the idea of being trapped like that and anxiety was rising within him until he felt someone approach the bed. He stops worrying about the shackles to focus on something much more important; finally, there's someone with him that isn't yelling. Perhaps the man would tell him what is happening. Was it a man under that mask? Yes, that much he was sure. The only think he knew for sure is that there was someone familiar under that mask. There was something about the tall and dark figure that was mean to feel terrifying but he only felt relief upon seeing him.

"Ah..hello. Where I am? I seem to have..ended here...somehow."

[no_light]

Kylo snorted and responded with a very bitter mutter of, "of course you would, Dameron, getting yourself into trouble is one of your finer skills." The vocalizer took a lot of the emotion out of his voice, it only added further to Kylo's irritation with these circumstances.

He even knew that he had no right to be bitter. With Poe about to be wrung dry for every minute, meaningless piece of information on the Resistance, it wasn't his place to be bitter. There would be no mercy for the pilot who had blown up Starkiller Base.

He sighed irritably as he started to feel out the mind that had become far more familiar to him than it should be. It was confused now, still sluggish and disoriented, defenceless. "I would say this would be easier if you cooperated, but that would be a lie." In their stolen moments together he had enjoyed the tranquillity found in Poe's mind, but he could only cling to his own anger now, to drown out his reluctance, the unwelcome twinge of guilt which he knew would only intensify when Poe realized was happening.

[aprettyflyboy]

"Dameron...? That's my name?"

He knew he had to have one. Everyone had a name, right? Why couldn't he remember it? Or who gave it to him? It must have been someone important too. Dameron, Dameron,Dameron.... His brows furrowed and the puzzled look on his face deepened. Trying to think of what he was doing before all the rude people came for him wasn't giving him any answer, couldn't seem to remember.

Looking over at the other man, he could only stare and blink, big brown eyes looking far too lost to belong to someone like Poe Dameron, the best pilot in the Resistance. There was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind telling him that something was wrong but that maybe his new companion could fix it. But the man looked nervous too and that made him want to reach out and touch it. When he attempted to do so, the shackles dug into his skin and he frowned at them as if to blame them for his misery. He just didn't seem able to do anything so he focused his attention back on the black dressed man.

"You are upset. It's because something I did? I don't...I can't remember how I got here, or what I was doing before...but I don't like to see you upset."

[no_light]

That was... wrong.

He was jarred out of the pace of his careful examinations, and the doubts keeping him from actually going ahead with it, only to gape at Poe in fascinated horror. There was no defiance coming from him, no snark, no deception.

But it was impossible.

He dove fully into his mind, almost cruel now in the abruptness of it, though he didn't seek to cause him pain. Kylo simply didn't have the patience to avoid it.

What he found was a desolation. Memories so scattered and broken that they would not heed his commands, a fragile mindscape just barely settling after an earthquake. Everything in him shied away from for fear that he would shatter something irreparably. Kylo balled his hands to fists. Poe's familiar mind was ravaged, yet it wasn't the orderly emptiness of suppressed memories. This had the chaos of nature at work. Unpredictable, unreliable, but... thorough. For now.

He didn't remember who he was, or where he was, or what. Not a blank slate, but as close to it as nature could come without being helped along.

"I'm not upset." Kylo unclasped his helmet and put it down by the foot of the bed. He placed a hand on Poe's arm, quietly marvelling that he was enduring his captivity so calmly, unaware even that it was one... As close to a blank slate as it could come. "I'm not upset," he repeated, voice human and quiet now. "I'm concerned."

[aprettyflyboy]

That time Poe tensed up, arched his back and pulled against the restraints when the pain flared inside his head. Not throbbing or dull but sharp and quick like a knife slicing the flesh right between his eyes.

"H-hurts." He said, his voice a small, embarrassed whine that escaped between gritted teeth. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and gasped heavenward, almost crying out loud in relief when the pressure in his head eased. "You did that...?"

How? wasn't asked but implied. Poe wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer. Something told him he should know already but the explanation didn't come to him either as he stared at Kylo with wide eyes. Things got marginally better when he could finally see the man's face. He felt the urge to count the freckles and moles, and kiss the tip of his long nose. He relaxed against the bed again but some of the pain was still fresh in his mind.

"This is why I'm tied? Because of concern? I'm not got to hurt myself. Not a fan of pain, promise."

[no_light]

He almost laughed at the irony of Poe's claim, almost told him that he had to be a fan of pain, or else he would have never gone near Kylo. That way laid a world of pain.

But of course he didn't. Not when Poe looked at him so that it made heat burn in his cheeks as if he were a schoolboy, and filled his mind with endless possibilities.

It was a terrible thing to contemplate. Kylo Ren was angry, not stupid. He knew it was terrible, and easily the worst thing he had ever done to Poe.

But during their stolen all-too-normal moments on Coruscant he had begun to wonder, and had wondered ever since. Futile musings, since he had no intention to run back to his mother with his tail between his legs and falling at the feet of her Jedi. Poe Dameron was too Resistance to be cowed or swayed into betrayal.

He brought a hand to Poe's forehead, stroking his grimy hair back from his brow. His fingers came away crusty with blood. Nobody had bothered cleaning him up, knowing he would soon be dirty again with new blood, sweat and tears. The restraints opened. "I'm sorry I hurt you," he cooed, or as close to one as his voice could come. "I was too rough. Forgive me. I was shocked that you don't remember..." the slightest hesitation, "me."

Hux was going to kill him.