#amnesia au

[wolame-o-ccx]

FORGET YOU

Vox hypnotizing himself to forget Alastor :)

Idea taken by Mila on TikTok!!!

[bamsara]

Some of the Amnesia trope spin off of TROD AU I drew in stream the other day, Narinder version (idk I'll come up with an actual name for it or just keep calling it the 'trod amnesia au' lmao)

Still not quite used to Clip Studio Paint, the brushes feel stiffer to use and I think it shows but alas

[whittakermultiverse]

Title: All Over Again

Fandom: The Pitt

Pairing: Frank Langdon x Female Reader

Warnings: amnesia, memory loss, emotional hurt/comfort, angst with fluff, hospital setting, mentions of car accident

Summary: After a devastating car accident leaves you with no memory of your life—or the man you loved—Frank Langdon refuses to give up. Determined, stubborn, and quietly terrified, he sets out to make you fall in love with him again… even if it breaks his heart in the process.

The first thing you noticed about him was his eyes.

Tired. Red-rimmed. But hopeful—like he was holding onto something fragile that might disappear if he blinked too long.

“Hey,” he said softly, standing in the doorway of your hospital room like he wasn’t sure he was allowed in. “How’re you feeling?”

You frowned slightly. “Do I… know you?”

It was subtle—the way his shoulders dropped, the way his jaw tightened—but you saw it. Like something inside him cracked and he was trying to keep it quiet.

“Yeah,” he said after a beat, forcing a small smile. “Yeah, you do.”

You waited. When he didn’t elaborate, your confusion only deepened. “I’m sorry, I—”

“It’s okay,” he cut in quickly, stepping inside. “You don’t have to apologize. Not for this.”

There was something in his voice—gentle, but heavy—that made your chest ache, even though you didn’t understand why.

“I’m Frank,” he said. “Frank Langdon.”

You nodded slowly, the name unfamiliar on your tongue. “I’m…?”

“Y/N,” he answered immediately, like it was second nature. Like he’d said it a thousand times before.

The way he said your name made your stomach twist.

---

Over the next few days, Frank kept showing up.

Not in an overwhelming way—he never pushed, never assumed—but he was always there. Sitting in the chair by your bed, bringing you coffee you didn’t remember liking, talking about small things like the weather or annoying coworkers.

He never said what you were to each other.

And you didn’t ask.

Not at first.

But you noticed things.

Like how he always reached for your hand before stopping himself halfway.

How he knew exactly how you liked your pillow adjusted.

How he looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention—like you were something he’d lost once already and wasn’t sure he’d survive losing again.

“Okay,” you finally said one afternoon, watching him peel an orange with careful focus. “You’re either the most dedicated friend I’ve ever had… or something else.”

He stilled.

“Something else?” he echoed.

You shrugged slightly. “You just… don’t look at me like a friend.”

Silence stretched between you.

For a moment, you thought he wouldn’t answer.

Then he set the orange down, wiped his hands on his jeans, and met your eyes.

“I’m your boyfriend,” he said quietly.

The words landed heavy.

“Oh.”

Not rejection. Not acceptance. Just… confusion.

Frank nodded, like he expected that reaction. “We’ve been together a while.”

“I don’t remember any of it.”

“I know.”

God, he knew.

---

After that, things changed.

Not dramatically—but enough.

You started asking questions.

“What’s my favorite movie?”

“What do I hate eating?”

“How did we meet?”

And Frank answered every single one.

“Clueless. You’ve seen it, like, a hundred times.”

“Olives. You say they taste like regret.”

“You yelled at me in the ER for being an ass.”

You blinked. “That sounds like me.”

He huffed out a quiet laugh. “Yeah. It really does.”

Sometimes he’d tell stories.

About late-night takeout after shifts.

About the way you danced in the kitchen even when you were half-asleep.

About how you always stole his hoodies and never gave them back.

“You still have one, actually,” he said once. “At our place.”

“Our place.”

The words made your heart skip.

---

The first time you left the hospital, Frank was the one who picked you up.

You hesitated when you saw his car.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I… was it a car accident?” you said slowly.

His expression shifted, something dark flickering behind his eyes. “Yeah.”

You swallowed. “Was I alone?”

A pause.

Then, quietly, “No.”

Your chest tightened. “You were there?”

He nodded.

“Do you remember it?”

“I remember enough.”

The way he said it told you everything you needed to know.

You didn’t ask more.

---

Being in the apartment felt… strange.

Not unfamiliar, exactly. Just distant. Like a memory you couldn’t quite reach.

But there were pieces of you everywhere.

Photos on the fridge.

Your shoes by the door.

A hoodie—his hoodie—draped over the back of the couch.

“You always leave it there,” Frank said when he noticed you staring. “Drives me insane.”

You smiled faintly. “Maybe I like annoying you.”

“You do.”

There was a softness to the moment.

A quiet.

Then, without thinking, you asked, “Were we happy?”

Frank froze.

Not completely—just enough that you caught it.

“Yeah,” he said after a second. “We were.”

Were.

Not are.

---

Days turned into weeks.

And somewhere along the way, things started to shift.

It wasn’t your memory—it never came back, no matter how hard you tried.

But your feelings…

They grew.

In small, quiet ways.

The way your heart sped up when he walked into a room.

The way you leaned into him without thinking.

The way his voice grounded you when everything else felt uncertain.

One night, you found him asleep on the couch, TV still playing softly.

You stood there for a moment, just watching him.

This man who refused to leave.

Who answered every question.

Who loved you—even when you couldn’t remember loving him back.

Your chest ached.

Slowly, carefully, you sat beside him.

Your movement stirred him awake.

“Hey,” he murmured, blinking up at you. “You okay?”

You nodded.

Then, before you could overthink it, you reached for his hand.

This time, he didn’t pull away.

“I don’t remember you,” you said softly.

His expression flickered—but he nodded. “I know.”

“But…”

You squeezed his hand gently.

“I think I’m falling in love with you.”

The words hung in the air.

For a second, Frank didn’t breathe.

“Again,” you added quietly.

That broke him.

Not in a loud way—but in the way his eyes filled, in the way his grip on your hand tightened like he was anchoring himself.

“Yeah?” he asked, voice rough.

You smiled a little. “Yeah.”

He let out a shaky laugh, dropping his forehead against yours.

“Good,” he whispered. “Because I was gonna keep trying until you did.”

You huffed softly. “That sounds exhausting.”

“Worth it.”

And for the first time since you woke up in that hospital bed, something felt right.

Not remembered.

Not familiar.

Just… real.

And maybe that was enough.

[rainbowboycom]

Amnesia Au - Thefreakcircus

Celos 2/?

(dios me tarde artisimo sorry!!)

[shen-jius-zoloft-prescription]

Transmigration identity reveal except that as Shen Qingqiu haltingly, carefully picks his words to confess to his fellow peak lords, he's met at first with silence (understandable, what he just confessed to can be fairly described as unbelievable!), and then, after that silence has stretched into something truly suffocating to the poor, vulnerable transmigrator... he finally hears a low, whispered question from Wei Qingwei to Mu Qingfang, "Ah, again?"

And Shen Qingqiu is horrified, because he realizes that they must have actually noticed when he tagged in for the Original Goods! They already realized that something happened and he became a different person, and they think he's saying he's been switched again! Well, he's chagrined to know that he wasn't as slick as he thought, but he's quick to at least clarify, "No, this has only happened the once! When the former Shen Qingqiu had that major qi deviation a few years ago. I know, I'm late to tell you the truth, but you all deserve to know. Or, I guess, to hear it from me truthfully."

Yet again, there's more silence until, so gently, Yue Qingyuan places a hand on Shen Qingqiu's arm. "It's true, we already know, shidi. You can relax."

"We already know every time you tell us," Qi Qingqi adds. It's said as an aside, and it earns her an exasperated frown from Mu Qingfang.

"This is the nicest he's ever been about it, though," Wei Qingwei says, and he smiles cheerfully at Shen Qingqiu like the last two sentences spoken didn't just throw him ass-over-kettle into a whole new identity crisis.

He's not sure if he has a qi deviation, or just a good old fashioned blue-screen dissociative episode, but the rest of the peak lord meeting is a blur until it's just him, Yue Qingyuan, and Mu Qingfang left in the room.

Turns out, according to the sect leader and doctor, the transmigration "reveal" talks have happened several times over the years! In fact, the first one was when Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu were children, and he had confessed to being transmigrated at birth. What?! Then at multiple points throughout disciplehood, and one other instance since ascension, Shen Qingqiu has made the same confession, again and again.

Again and again!

Each time, he insisted that he was a brand new person, a brand new soul, usurping the body's previous owner. Usually, he hardly changed enough to notice a difference.

"Then, I think this time is different. You know I've changed, you know I'm not like the Original Goods," Shen Qingqiu pleads. They're not understanding.

And Mu Qingfang, patiently like they're talking about Shen Qingqiu telling him the symptoms of a cold and not confessing to having possessed their dead martial brother(s?!), nods slowly and says, "You always believe that. Sometimes, it's more the case than others."

"So, Shen Qingqiu has died, what, a dozen times? And just keeps being replaced?" Shen Qingqiu says, aghast.

"Shidi always thinks so," Yue Qingyuan says, and it is not an answer. Certainly not one that satisfied Shen Qingqiu.

Shen Qingqiu is just so sure that they're all lying to themselves, pretending that it's not as horrible as it really is!

He pities them, actually. They just won't face the truth, for some reason clinging to the idea that their awful, scum martial brother is still somehow with them.

For nearly a whole year he pities them. He only stops pitying them when a Without-A-Cure flareup results in a sudden qi deviation and --

...

Shen Yuan opens his eyes to see an unfamiliar canopy over an unfamiliar bed. Beside him, a handsome man in xuanduan asks him how he feels.

[artepti]

Stolen Sun AU - Dosage

Previous │ Next Part │ Next ask

I've been dying to draw some ✨fanservice✨!

Let's see how Mac handles it in the next update! :]

Also, I am working on the next LLR Update, just a bit stuck as of now which is why it's taking so long!

[permanent-fire-hazard]

Sometimes I like my fanfics to essentially be soap opera plots, and as a result, one of my favorite tropes is amnesia.

Recently I've been thinking about Rabbot with this trope and instinctually I was thinking of Robby getting it after an accident on his bike, but I actually think there's way more potential with Jack.

Like Rabbot who have been married for 10+ years, and have recently been working through some struggles that come with Robby's deteriorating mental health and his refusal to seek professional help. Then Jack gets hurt, maybe with the SWAT team or something, and arrives at the ED.

But once he wakes up, he doesn't know anyone. He thinks it's only been a year since his wife died, and self-loathing Robby sees this as an opportunity to free Jack from him.

Jack can feel that someone is missing. There's a distinct hole in his heart where a person he loves deeply should live, but because of his amnesia, he brushes it off as reignited grief for his wife. It doesn't feel like the right answer, but it's the best he can come up with.

And no one is willing to explain where his new ring is from.

[secondhand-hockey]

the patch where nothing grows // 15k, willmack, ch 1/2

Mack thinks, with a kind of exhausted certainty, that he would find Will anywhere. Mack would know him by weight, by smell, by the way his breathing eases Mack's nervous system on cue.

He just can't seem to find the Will he knew in Will's own head.

---

this fic is my baby. thanks to @self-immolatia, without whom this wouldn't have ever existed. thank you also to @irradience, who was the loveliest of all beta readers and such a wonderful conversation partner. both of your brains are so amazing - thank you for letting me pick them <3