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🕯️ from the crypt...

✦ the offering that was never accepted by the gods ✦ sharpening your teeth just to wear out your vocal cords screaming ✦ isolation

dead dove | tragedy | problematic relationships. snippet under the line ✦ as seen on twitter

"His breathing was shallow and the shadows underneath his eyes told stories of grief that nobody could understand. There was a collective sigh of relief when he finally wrestled the door open, and disappeared behind the drapes of obscurity once again. The city started moving again, unaware of the tragedy being orchestrated from the dark."

Blister & Blood

Event: Angstpril 2025 ; hosted by @chaos-company Prompt: Day 5 ALTERNATE—Major Injury Fandom: Arcane Ship: Silco x Vander | Vanco Rating: M Tags: MCD, anti-Vander. No, seriously. Bad guy Vander. Vulnerable Silco. Canon Divergence.

Silco looked at the drawing he made of him and Vander, smiling down softly at their colours melding into each other. It was one of their better days—coming up with their Blister & Bedrock mantra. A vow to create a safe space for all the children, and their children. But, those days started getting fewer in between.

When Felicia died, so did the goodness between him and Vander, until one day.

Vander was on something that Silco couldn’t identify, at the end, he could just have started hating Silco. As if it was only Silco’s job to keep Felicia safe. All he knew was that Vander blamed him. And one day. Silco decided to fight back.

He decided to stand up for himself, to say that it wasn’t only on Silco and that it wasn’t right for Vander to keep fucking blaming him and reminding Silco of everything that they had lost.

He very quickly realised he made the wrong choice when Vander pushed him up face first against the wall and ground his head into the jutting brick. He tried to close his eyes but he could feel the pricks of the brick against his face before he could fully manage it. He felt something wet roll down his face, but he knew he couldn’t be crying—the other option seemed too harrowing to accept.

Vander pressed his pelvis into Silco’s back, and he could feel his entire body get crushed against the wall. It stuck through his clothes, and tore the more sensitive fabrics, and Vander just pushed his head further into the wall before leaning closer.

“Where do you get off telling me it’s my fault? Telling ME that I had to do MORE? You’re just a sniveling goddamn brat that didn’t get enough attention in this godforsaken place. You’d be nothing without me.” Silco could hear the sneer in Vander’s voice, and it broke small parts of him that he wasn’t sure had existed anymore. The abandoned boy inside of him cried out in pain and fear.

“I…didn..I didn’t say. You..” He couldn’t find his voice. Couldn’t keep it even.

“YES YOU DID! My fault that Felicia died? God,” Vander’s chuckle was hollow, “I loved her. I would never have let anything happen to her.” There was a sick satisfaction in Silco’s chest. Confirmation on something that he had suspected for years. That Vander only started dating Silco to get closer to Felicia, and since she died. Vander didn’t care about him anymore. 

Silco knew that Vander’s temper was short, and that it snapped because the next moment his face was being crushed by the wall. Vander held Silco’s hair in a tight grip and started smashing his head against it. 

Silco couldn’t feel the pain anymore, but he felt a sharp burning in his abdomen, but he couldn’t place if it was a blade or not. He could start to see little orbs of light floating in his vision. Looking like specks of dust but in a rainbow of colours, and he almost gasped at the beauty.

All in all. He had an extremely good life. He had morals and he was at the forefront of a revolution. Two little girls who he could hold when they were sad, and sometimes help them to feel better. His vision went black, and he could feel his breathing shallow out while his body was being used like a ragdoll for frustration.

It’s enough that it’d been good.

It had to be enough.

When it all comes down

Event: Angstpril 2025 ; hosted by @chaos-company Prompt: Day 4—"I trusted you" Fandom: Boku No Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Ship: Bakugou Katsuki x Midoriya Izuku | BakuDeku Rating: M Tags: MCD

The fight was nothing that Bakugou had ever seen before. It took everything he had not to run into the fray, but he had strict orders to stay on the sidelines. The villain that they were apprehending had a multiplication quirk. Multiplying every attack thrown his way. And if Bakugou got involved, everyone in the surroundings would be in danger. His explosions would burn everything in the surroundings to the fucking ground, and it was driving him insane.

De—Izuku was there. In the middle of all of it. Their relationship wasn’t common knowledge, but it was something big and important enough for Bakugou to feel that his entire heart and soul was out there on the battlefield.

He was supposed to do recon and catch any flyaway villains, but his eyes were glued to the intense battle in the middle of the city block.

Izuku was chosen because his quirk wasn’t natural. He was chosen for his. And it was the one loophole they could find where the villain’s quirk wouldn’t work, but it didn’t help that the villain touched everyone he could to get to Izuku.

He was pacing, and he had enough of their friends watching him from the corner of their eyes, confused at his actions.

He couldn’t care about their questioning glances, or the theories running around in their minds, until… the villain threw Izuku with strength akin to Gigantomachia’s. 

He fell from the sky like a ragdoll, and Bakugou’s mind completely blanked. He didn’t think about the other Heroes, or the civilians, or even the fucking Villain that put them in that position to start. He used his explosions to fly to Izuku, but he wasn’t fast enough. He heard the sickening crack on the sidewalk and he faltered. That second of fear was enough for him to lose his momentum and fall close to where Izuku did.

It felt like the whole world was on fire, but Bakugou army-crawled through the debris to get closer. The villain was busy breaking everything down. Buildings were on fire, and crumbling, but Bakugou got to him.

The sight was one that Bakugou had seen all through their High School career. Izuku broken, in pain, and bleeding. But this time. Something was different. People were starting to crowd around them but Bakugou threw indiscriminate blasts all around them to keep the onlookers away. 

“Izuku? Baby, please…” He whispered, but. There was no reaction. Izuku didn’t suddenly start breathing, or open his pretty green eyes to stare at Bakugou and ask what he was on about.

Bakugou tried to do CPR, but he couldn’t focus long enough to do it properly. He just ended up punching at Izuku’s chest trying to get a reaction…any reaction. But nothing was working.

He couldn’t end this way. It.. couldn’t. Him and Izuku were still figuring out their lives, trying to get it on track. They. Wanted to work on their issues to the point where they could tell their friends about their relationship, but they couldn’t get it right..not yet.

He tore open Izuku’s stupidly complicated Hero costume, but even then, he had no idea where to go. He wasn’t a medical Hero. He wasn’t someone who knew what to do.

“YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME, IZUKU. YOU CAN’T… LEAVE.” Bakugou put his ear to Izuku’s chest as he pushed his fingers against the pulse point, but there was nothing. Just a straight line of zero activity. Bakugou also couldn’t feel any breath release from Izuku’s mouth or nose.

Everything around Bakugou was crumbling, just like the buildings in the city block. He was being pelted with debris, and when he felt a hand on his shoulder, he sent another blast. He heard a small yelp, and he was just glad that the person was moving away. Disappearing from his bubble.

“YOU FUCKING DEKU. YOU BETTER. JUST…” His throat was raw from the yelling and he was getting tired. He was… giving up.

He rolled onto his knees and held Izuku’s tattered costume in his hands.

He could feel his eyes welling up, but he looked into the sun to try and keep the tears at bay.

“I trusted you. I trusted you to stay. To build a life with me. To,” stay. He couldn’t say it out loud, because. Izuku was supposed to be different. He was…supposed to be the one.

Bakugou got pulled away from Izuku’s body and he was swarmed by other Heroes. Some were glaring at him, others just looked at him and he could see the questions in their eyes.

Izuku was taken away from Bakugou.

And the further away he got. The more Bakugou broke.

Everything…was gone.

The gentleness of caring

Event: Angstpril 2025 by @chaos-company Prompt: Day 2—Chronic Pain Fandom: Boku No Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Ship: Bakugou Katsuki x Todoroki Shouto | TodoBaku Rating: T Tags: Reincarnation AU, dreams of previous life, chronic pain, domesticity Beta: @sysiumblue

The nightmare that Katsuki had was familiar, but so much worse than usual. Dark views of someone that looked surprisingly like him in a tight shirt and cargo pants and fighting someone a lot bigger than himself. And then, he felt the heat prickle through his veins, before the big boom that he could feel in his wrists. The bones felt like shattering, but they were kept together by a sheer force of will from his body.

Those dreams are how he tries to explain away his wrist problems in day-to-day life, because no doctor could ever find an answer. Nobody knew why he’d be feeling the pain that he was.

He felt a shift in the sheets next to him a few seconds before Shouto’s head popped out from under the mountains of blankets he swears he needs. His eyes immediately fell to where Katsuki was massaging his right wrist. The dreams always made the pain more pronounced.

Without saying anything, Shouto gave him a kiss on his temple before climbing out of bed. Katsuki knew that it was to get all the creams, tapes and guards he always adorned Katsuki with to survive throughout the day.

They didn’t need words for this ritual anymore, Katsuki just hoped he could probably show his appreciation for Shouto the way the love of his life deserved it. But, that brought up the pod of guilt Katsuki always felt after the dreams. He couldn’t tell Shouto. That they always fought. Almost to the point of death. How Katsuki had died at some point.

That even less than lovers, they were sworn to be enemies by trade.

Shouto padded back into the room in his too-big pajamas, and sat cross-legged next to Bakugou. It took him back to when they were just in High School with Shouto in front of his books in the very same position. Tongue sticking out in concentration. 

And Katsuki’s chest squeezed knowing that Shouto put the same effort into his care as he did into his studies, his work, everything that had ever been important to him.

Shouto gingerly took Katsuki’s right wrist into his hands and started methodically massaging the inside with deep heat cream before putting on a compression band, securing the wrist guard and fastening it to where he knew Katsuki found it comfortable. With his left wrist, Shouto used sports tape to tape out a makeshift guard. After each turn, Shouto placed little kisses on Katsuki’s wrists; the warmth felt like it would burst out of his chest. He couldn’t care about the position they were in, or the fact that Shouto felt insecure about morning breath most days. Katsuki took Shouto’s face into his hands, letting his thumbs trace out his husband’s face under his own calloused fingers and finally pulled Shouto close enough to kiss him.

Shouto gasped in surprise, before pushing back into Katsuki, and when they pulled back, Shouto had a light flush spreading over his cheeks.

“Good morning, icy.” Katsuki’s voice was still gravelly with sleep and Shouto only sighed and leaned his forehead on Katsuki’s shoulder, drawing closer and relaxed in Katsuki’s embrace.

Yeah, Katsuki didn’t care what happened in the dreams, because they didn’t include this. And this, right here, was everything he wanted from the life he was living. 

The Art of Forgetting

Event: Angstpril 2025, hosted by: @chaos-company

Prompt: Day 1: Forgotten

Fandom: 9-1-1

Ship/Romantic Attachment: Eddie Diaz/Evan "Buck" Buckley | Buddie

Rating: T

A little back posting because I definitely only found this event today \(^.^)/

To the world it was supposed to be a beautiful, cloudy Tuesday morning. To Eddie and Christopher, it was something completely different. The atmosphere felt heavy, and like gravity was pushing down on their lungs. Christopher had lost something, and it was so tangible that Eddie felt the melancholy of the moment.

They had both lost something, and Eddie, for the life of him, couldn't remember anything that he used to find comfort in. The way that Buck’s smile would crinkle in the corners of his eyes, and how light his laugh sounded. Most of the time it could be mistaken for a chorus flying on the wings of the Southeastern wind.

No matter how many people told him it was the wrong choice, he hadn’t left El Paso. He never went back to Los Angeles to rejoin the 118 firehouse. Now, it was too late, and everyone moved on. Everyone. Including.

Baby blue eyes that could smash any wall that Eddie had ever dreamed to build around his heart. But ten years later.

Ten years later, he was starting to lose touch.

Those crows feet around Buck’s eyes were softening out into a bleary view. His voice starting to fade into ether where Eddie knew he couldn’t follow. Some days Eddie had to pinch himself to remember that his name was Evan Buckley, not just the frat boy nickname he picked to be called. And Christopher. He knew that something was wrong.

They had moved during such a turbulent time that Eddie knew that Chris felt the empty space that’s only coincidentally Buck-shaped. A good parent, would make sure Buck doesn’t stay forgotten in his son’s mind—or a figment of his imagination. A heartbroken man, however, will continue to live in the fantasy his son created where they never lost their other half.

It was too late to call. Or, to try and re-forge the bonds he already threw away. 

He put his phone down, and tried to close his eyes. It’s better to just sleep away the pain before he could drown in it.

Forgotten Ekkos

Event: Angstpril 2025 by @chaos-company Day: 1—Forgotten Fandom: Arcane Ship: Ekko/Jinx | Timebomb Rating: T CW: Ambiguity regarding the aliveness of a character

He lit up the city for her, going so far as to cross wires into underground power supplies he absolutely shouldn’t have access to. 

He painted on walls. Symbols highlighted by the transient stars. Arrows guiding her home. He wanted her to find her way back. Notes scattered like campaign leaflets that flooded the streets. Everywhere people walked, it was like a blanket of snow covering the ground. They needed to be reminded. Of the sacrifice. Who died so they could live. Who fought demons so they could continue to wake up another day.

He wrote her diary entries about his days. All the conversations he was going to have with her. All the welcome homes. She was going to know how needed she was. He kept her home clean. Every tool was organized. Every button dusted. He searched every nook, cranny and crevice for her. Foreign lands. On the home front. Up in the shiny world with the snobby people. He looked.

Ekko would illuminate the world searching for his Jinx.

He was gonna make damn sure, she will never be forgotten.

really wish tumblr would stop calling me tf out

do you ever re-read your own wips like 'damn the bitch that wrote this oughta finish it'

Me: *on tumblr, minding my business*

My next chapter, sitting unfinished:

me planning out my story: this will be so straightforward and easy!

me writing: why is there a subplot about flour?

LOST ft. Zel

A Letter to Love -kalika

Everytime you smile it feels like I am bathing in the warmth of the afternoon sun, slowly disintegrating into the golden swirls that pour from your brown eyes. How often have I melted at your fingertips so that you may scoop me up and paint such beautiful sunsets that tell the stories I have kept locked away. I don't know which is more beautiful, to become a breath taking painting or to be the favourite colour of the painter.

Grab your dreams in your hands and sprinkle them while you take a walk. Let the others after your time follow the trail and find their own treasure. Because even if you didn't make it, at least they will. And that means you did make it. Planting hope in the depth of a soul is the closest that we humans can come to being gods.

why do tumblr writers lack the ability to use proper pronouns 😭 (no disrespect i js wanna know)

My nightmares making my life miserable, I cannot speak. The house is silent, cause the screams of agony die on my lips.