After an accident leaves Eddie with amnesia, Buck takes him home to recover, and in the absence of his memories, Eddie reveals parts of himself he’s kept hidden for years.
His throat burns. He’s stiff. And he doesn’t know where he is.
Maybe he should panic, but the grogginess is bone-deep and leaden, so he just lies in the comfort of the fog buoying him in this liminal space until the blurred shapes of the world make themselves known. First, it’s the window, telling him it’s likely morning. Then, it’s the tube in his hand and the machine beeping softly to his left, telling him he’s hurt. And finally, it’s the man with curly hair sitting in a chair right next to the hospital bed with an arm in a sling, asleep, telling him he’s not alone.
“Hello,” he tries, but his throat is too dry, so he coughs instead.
It hurts like hell, but it does the job. The man jolts awake with wide, red-rimmed eyes. They’re watery, bloodshot, and blue. He has a birthmark, or something, over the left one.
“Eddie,” he breathes more than says.
can i entice anyone with more of the thing I said was due this week amnesia!Buck?
You- I- no way. Uh uh.” He pauses to wipe his eyes.
It takes a moment for the giggles and chuckling to slowly die down and trail off. For Buck to look again and realize Eddie's not doing the same.
"Okay, look, you can, uh, cut the act now.” Buck averts his gaze to the thin hospital blanket, pulling at a loose thread. “You-you're either really good at this or.”
Their eyes meet again and Eddie can tell something is shifting. Hopefully, it's only a matter of moments now.
"Shit. You're, uh, you’re serious.”
Eddie shrugs. “Afraid so.”
"You and me. We're… married?”
"For a year and half, give or take. Bobby officiated, if you're wondering. Your sister was-”
“Stop.” Buck works to swallow, eyes shining with unshed tears as he holds a trembling hand out, pleading for silence. Quietly then, voice cracking, he asks, “Maddie?”
Currently writing a temporary full retrograde amnesia bloodymary fic (inspired by a tumblr post and its comments) and I finally got to actual interaction between grace and Simon and I feel like I wrote Simon so ooc
But also this is the guy who's often portrayed in fics to be overly aggressive and violent when in reality that's probably just a stress response. I'm writing the Simon that delicately held the seed pendant, that apologized multiple times for accidentally hurting people with the radiation camera. So it's no surprise that it feels ooc
(This is not a jab at writers who write him like that, I just feel like we don't explore enough of other parts of his personality. Yea he gets violent but even the best dog will bite if scared enough)
Summary: Tommy wakes up on his garage floor, and his whole world turns upside down.
Or…
The post 8x06 Tommy amnesia fic ONE YEAR in the making! 😮💨🫶
ITS HERE! Finally! Well… mostly! I still have a couple chapters left!
I did NOT plan on posting it when the timeline of the fic would be accurate but here we are! I hope yall like it <3
Thank you sooooo much to everyone who showed interest in this as I wrote it! And a SPECIAL thanks to Sei Cacti & Gena for hyping me up plus Chrissy & Kelly for being my amazing and motivational betas! Yall are all awesome! 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶
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And tags for those who wanted to be tagged about this fic specifically
just something that's been rattling around in my brain:
In a world where Fiyero never makes it to Shiz, he arrives at the Emerald City as a brainless prince roped into being the political boyfriend of Glinda the Good, Oz’s most darling public figure. At first, he thinks this is a pretty good gig, but there’s a level of mystery surrounding Glinda that gets darker and darker the more he learns.
Like the fact that the Animals of Oz’s underground railroad keep trying to talk to her.
Like the fact that the Wicked Witch of the West appears to be following her.
Like the fact that she doesn’t remember anything from before four months ago, except a single name.
Elphie.
(drabble below)
“Wait!” Fiyero cries, arm outstretched as though he can keep the witch from leaving. “Please,” he whispers. Desperate. Begging. “C-can you tell me why?”
Elphaba’s eyes narrow, her lips thin. “You don’t know?”
Fiyero shakes his head.
Elphaba’s gaze skirts over him, appraising. “What do you think happened?” she asks, taking Fiyero aback. He swallows hard, collecting his thoughts.
“I think they…I think they did something to her,” he confesses. His voice is barely more than a whisper, his palms clammy with sweat as his skin prickles with fear of being caught saying something so treasonous. But-
He’s had his suspicions for months now.
Elphaba turns properly toward him, nodding sharply. “But do you know why?” she pushes.
“I--” Fiyero breaks off, mind whirling. Why? Why would the Gale Force, the Wizard, whoever- why would they want Glinda to have amnesia?
“No. I don’t.”
Elphaba tilts her head, gaze calculating. “Do you know who Madame Morrible is?” she asks, throwing Fiyero a little.
“The Press Secretary? I- yeah, I do. She’s close with Glinda, why?”
Something furious and wild flares in Elphaba’s emerald eyes, so much so Fiyero has to resist the urge to step back or reach for his hip. “You’re saying she had something to do with it,” he says. It’s not a question, but Elphaba nods anyway.
“You catch on quick.”
Fiyero gulps. “She- she’s unsettling,” he responds. “Glinda spends a lot of time with her, but she’s rattled after. Won’t talk to me. Her meetings with Morrible or the Wizard are the only times I’m not allowed in the room.”
That, more than anything, had been the biggest red flag. But Elphaba still hasn’t answered his question.
“What did Morrible do? Why is Glinda like this?”
Elphaba stares, silence stretching until Fiyero shifts on his feet, uncomfortable. Only then does she speak. “You really haven’t figured it out yet?”
A breeze stirs, swirling around the edges of Elphaba’s black cloak. Her chin tilts up, the wide brim of her hat casting sharp shadows over her face. “She’s like this because of me.”
Fiyero feels the air get sucked out of him. “You?”
Elphaba nods, but this time it is rigid, stiff. Mechanic. She looks at him like she’s waiting for him to put the pieces together.
“Because I wouldn’t conform.”
Fiyero’s head is spinning. He’s got all these pieces and he knows they fit together somehow if he just thinks. He’s never been known for his brain, but right now it’s working overtime. Morrible. The Wizard. The Wicked Witch. Glinda the Good.
What? What is it? What is he missing?
The answer comes slamming into him with the force of a bullet train. Or- maybe just a bullet. It pierces through his heart, ripping at the vulnerable core of him. “She’s a hostage,” he breathes, soft and horrified.
Elphaba’s smile is the saddest he’s ever seen. “She’s leverage,” the witch explains. “Because Morrible knows I would never let her get hurt.”
Fiyero curls his fingers into fists, throat tight. “Because you love her,” he chokes out. “Don’t you?”
Elphaba’s shoulders slump, something almost like grief ghosting across her face. “You do, too,” she says instead of answering. “I can tell.”
Fiyero stammers, shaking his head. “I-it’s not like that,” he protests immediately. “It’s just a job.”
But Elphaba’s eyes are all too knowing. “No it’s not,” she states calmly. “Glinda is…she’s sunshine. She’s warm and she’s beautiful and she brightens your day. She’s so easy to love.”
The way she says it, soft and fond, tears at Fiyero’s chest, making his heart clench as he takes in her worn appearance. “It’s- it’s not like that,” he says again. Because it isn’t. Fiyero cares for Glinda, more than he probably should, but after just a few minutes of talking to her, he knows, intimately-
tagged by @bidisasterevankinard ❤️❤️ here's a first taste of a post-makeup amnesia fic that i'm reluctantly adding to the wip pile, because i have no self-control whatsoever apparently.
Buck feels like he's slipped and fallen into a parallel dimension. Because it's not Bobby, or Eddie, or even Maddie and he's having weird sensory stuff that makes her hand feel extra large on his own.
It's Tommy.
In the seat next to Buck's hospital bed, chin dropped down towards his chest, snoring quietly.
Buck must make a noise, or move, or something, because in the space of a heartbeat Tommy's eyes are open and fixed on him.
"You're awake," he says, and his voice shows nothing but relief.
"Looks that way," Buck manages.
"Thank god," Tommy says, shooting Buck his most handsome smile, squeezing his hand. "I'm so happy to see you."
And some part of Buck is undeniably happy to see him too, but another, larger part of him is deeply, hugely pissed off. Really? It takes hospitalization for Tommy to show up? Buck thought he'd left hurting himself for attention behind years ago, but apparently not. Apparently all unaware, it's still the only way he can get the man he - the only way he can get Tommy to look at him.
"What are you doing here?" he asks, pulling his hand out from under Tommy's and folding his arms across his chest.
Tommy's smile falters a little. "Where else would I be?"
Buck shrugs, shifts his jaw. He is not going to cry.
"How would I know?"
"Evan - "
That's it. That's the line.
"I want Maddie. Or Eddie."
Tommy looks confused now. Concerned.
"Honey…Eddie's in Texas, remember? He's been calling me like five times a day, though."
"What are you talking about?"
"I - let me get a doctor, okay?" Tommy stands, looks he wants to reach for Buck. Doesn't.
i have no idea who's working on what right now, but we are in a primo fic era apparently, so if you have something to share, consider yourself tagged!
A kick in the right direction (head over hoof) | Chapter 10 | Fortytworedvines
“You’ve remembered,” Audrey said, trying to stop her voice from hitching, trying to stop the tears that were welling up.
Siegfried nodded sharply, his gaze still fixed on her.
Her hands were trembling and she couldn’t stop them. She looked down at them, at the ring that had sparkled so beautifully in the sun yesterday, during their perfect day together. Slowly, clumsily, she eased it from her finger and placed it on the table. It made a tiny clink that spread into the silence of the room.
