Forgotten - Blog Posts

“I Hope You Feel What I Felt When You Shattered My Soul, Cause You Were Cruel and I Am Fool…

So Please Let Me Go”

I Love You So-The Walters

They don’t even care enough about you ..

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.

I'd like to say that I'm alive. But I can't. I feel more like a ghost as I walk through the halls, my touch barely changing anything as I go past. My voice only a whisper in the wind as I yell for help out of the repeating hell. Because to be alive, you just be doing something extraordinary. Otherwise, you become something of a shadow left to watch as everyone forgets about you.

I'd love to feel alive