#angsty boys

[jubilantmedusa]

Untitled Zukka Hurt/Comfort Ficlet #2

“It was good of you to bring him here,” Piandao said.

They were gathered in his library, dried and warmed and fed after their long flight through a misting sky. Night had fallen, the world lit now by torches and candles, casting strange shadows on their drawn faces.

Sokka’s arms felt empty. He had held Zuko through the flight as Zuko had shivered and shivered.

“Zuko’s inner flame has gone out.” Piandao’s voice was even, but the pinch of his mouth betrayed upset. “Not many people know the old ways, the healing of the Firebenders. But Zuko’s uncle does. I have the means to contact Iroh. There is hope yet.”

The silence in the room didn’t feel hopeful. “I thought the ‘inner flame’ thing was a metaphor,” Sokka said, bursting it.

“It’s more spiritual than physical, but it is very real,” Piandao explained. “Our bodies and spirits are entwined. Spiritual damage often manifests physically.”

“Like when you’re upset so you have nightmares,” Aang said.

Piandao gave a curt nod. “Similar,” he said. “This is more severe.”

“It still doesn’t make sense,” Sokka said. His stomach was churning. “Firebenders have an extra spirit part? And if that part is damaged they just waste away?”

That’s what’d been happening ever since Zuko’d thrown himself in front of Aang, taking an arrow laced with something sinister. A gift from Azula by way of the assassins that had been perusing them since they left the Western Air Temple.

At first Zuko’d been hyped up, unable to stop moving for hours and hours. When he crashed, Sokka thought it might actually be a good thing. Get some sleep. Be better in the morning.

But Zuko’d woken up disoriented, confused. And every time he’d woken since there was less of him.

He was growing colder. Sokka didn’t know what that meant. All he knew was that his arms were itching with emptiness.

“We all have inner flames of a sort,” Piandao said. His turned towards Sokka. “Even you and I. But Firebending… to create an element from the spirit’s own energy…” He swirled his hand, then winced, shaking his head. “Iroh will explain when he arrives.”

“When will that be?” Toph asked, leaning forward, harsh torchlight light shining directly in her sightless eyes. “Is he far away?”

“Iroh’s been in hiding since he escaped from Caldera, but I can reach him,” Piandao said, pointedly not answering the question. So they had where Iroh was then. He could be half a world away.

To Sokka’s right, Katara shifted, leaning forward, shadow dancing across her cheek. Sokka could see her eyes and… he knew that look. She had an answer on the tip of her tongue, but she didn’t want to ask the question. “Master Piandao,” she said. Katara would push through anything, even this. “This has happened before.”

“Yes,” he said. “Though it’s exceedingly rare.”

Katara nodded, eyes coming in and out of view as she did. “It’ll kill him,” she said, and Sokka could see Aang sinking at her side, head bowing down until his forehead was pressed into the wooden table.

Now it was Sokka turn. He didn’t want to, but he had to, mouth choking on the words. “How long?”

Piandao’s mouth pinched further. “I’ve only read accounts,” he said, “Some say as long as two weeks. Others, three days.”

Sokka was on his feet before he could breath, his footfalls echoing impossibly loud as he thundered across the tatami floor.

It had already been four days.

—

The room where they put Zuko was small and square, usually used as a dormitory for Piandao’s students. It had a simple bed with plain gray sheets, a sturdy but unremarkable desk. Flames roared in its large fireplace, making the room almost uncomfortably warm.

That’s the reason they chose it. It was easy to keep warm.

A wooden chair had been pulled up beside the bed. In it, Fat sat, an empty bowl held in his hands. “You got him to eat?” Sokka said, stomach fluttering.

Fat responded with a single nod. “Zuko was always a dutiful student,” he said. “You’ll be staying with him a while?”

When Sokka nodded Fat rose to his feet. “He’ll rally,” Fat said, voice affectionately stern. “Food, rest, warmth. It will go a long way.” Sokka wasn’t sure if Fat actually believed that or if he, if all of them, were trying to will something into existence, trying to project onto Zuko a strength that wasn’t there.

The only light in the room came from candles and the fire. Maroon curtains were open but it was only black outside, moonless. Shadows danced on Zuko’s face as he lay still and quiet, dressed now in loose pajamas. He looked comfortable at least. Lying on his side, wrapped in a thick, red blanket, with only his head and his toes poking out.

He’d be lost without that blanket, Sokka thought. The red was the only color in the room.

Sokka hesitated for only a moment before kicking off his own boots and settling himself down on the bed, his empty arms reaching, wrapping around the boy in the red blanket. His leg too, so desperate for touch. And maybe Zuko needed it, because he nuzzled forward, pushing his nose into Sokka’s cheek, his hands into Sokka’s chest. Even his feet shifted until the soul of his left foot was somehow pressed into Sokka’s right ankle.

They'd never gotten to touch like this, not really, during the strange flirtation they’d had since returning from Boiling Rock. Everything was stolen glances, lingering conversations, arms pressed together even though they didn’t have to be. A lingering hug. Everything fleeting. Everything discreet. Like it was half real and half a dream.

One stolen kiss. Arms shaking. Lips frantic. In the misting rain.

Now Sokka was living a nightmare. Zuko smelt like sweat and leather. His arms still shook from the memory of holding Zuko while Appa flew, Zuko’s body cold and trembling. The longest Sokka’d ever been able to hold him, and it was because he was dying.

But he wasn’t dead.Zuko was warmer than he’d felt in days.

“You’re going to be alright,” Sokka said, even though he didn’t believe it. But maybe Fat had it right. Maybe it was best to pretend Zuko was strong, even if it was a fiction. Maybe it’d be true if they lied. If Zuko believed them.

Sokka took a deep breath as it let his eyes close, holding Zuko as closely as he could.

[darksigns-exe]

can i have a 3x3 for our nick and noah angsty thing? 🤍

“Breakfast spread’s looking grim, huh?” Nick asks, surveying the options himself. 

It is rather sparse, he has to admit that. The fruit has seen better days, and he’s sure that the milk smelt just a little bit off. 

“Miserable.” Noah agrees. 

Nick is quiet for a brief moment before he returns his plate to the stack, “I saw a café up the road that looks promising.” 

It takes Noah a second to compute what he’s suggesting, but when the penny drops, he finds himself nodding. He tells himself that it’s the prospect of a good breakfast and not the warm feeling in his chest that makes him say yes.

[ladyvandaele]

These are my top 9 😂

[osamusbigtits]

sometimes atsumu wakes up to sakusa holding him too tight. in his sleep, sakusa will cling to atsumu. sometimes it's so tight atsumu can barely breathe.

sakusa's always shaken up when atsumu nudges him away. breathing too fast and even shaking. they never talk about it. atsumu offers comforting words until sakusa relaxed and eventually falls back asleep.

although they never talk about it, atsumu can assume. he's pieced together that sakusa shares his own fear.

they're both so scared of losing each other they can't admit it to each other.

but it shows in ways they can't control. like sakusa holding on too tight while they sleep. like atsumu's panic when sakusa walks away while they're fighting.

[bubblegumarts]

Spider Webs: Intro 🍂

(Characters aren’t real and it’s just a little comic about an apocalypse scenario cause I love angst!)

I hope you can fall in love with all the characters and their stories (it’s Yoonkook focused ... kind of but they all love each other!)

[richardazer]

we match.. two halves... forever

some 💀🪳 angst for ya >:]

lyrics are from the original "merry little Christmas" give it a listen very beautiful

[captnbas]

got hooked on dbd didn’t i

[greykolla-art]

Dropkicks this thing out of my Procreate gallery before I ruin it with more filters.

[technically-human]

Sad ghosts get a little bit translucent

[dclovesdanny]

Dead Serious

4/4

Danny had made peace with the fact he did not have a soulmate. He had! After several years of no response to the countless drawings and writing notes on his skin, he had grown resigned to the fact that he was part of the 5% who did not have soulmates. He was fine with that.

(Dash would tease him about how no one would ever love him, adding salt to an already irritated wound. His parents were soulmates, and he remembered when he was drawing on his father’s arms and watching as it appeared on his mother’s. Jazz had been drawing and writing to her soulmate for years. Her soulmates name was Jason, and she always talked about how he was with her. She was one of the few people who comforted him when he stopped drawing or writing to soulmate. )

Damien taught at an early age that there was no use for soulmates. They were only distractions. He knew grandfather had no soulmate, and his mother had never responded to her own. He never responded to the drawings on his arms notes the notes in English on his (and he didn’t try harder just because he wanted to read his soulmate writing that would be ridiculous.)

Damien never told his family about having a soulmate. Even as he slowly got used to the differences between them and slowly learned how his grandfather was he could never bring himself to respond to the slowly lessening drawings and messages.(He couldn’t bring himself to respond because deep down he knew he didn’t deserve a soulmate. He was a monster, a demon. He didn’t deserve it.)

Danny stopped trying so desperately to contact his soulmate at age 11(the age he held his sister as she cried, her soulmate’s last message scribbled in desperate frantic writing on her arm. He never resented his parents so much when they didn’t even leave the lab for two days, not paying any mind to their sobbing child on the floor above them.)(it was the first time he didn’t envy having a soulmate.)

He was fourteen when he started drawing on his arms again.(it was shaky, much more than the older drawings, but even if he didn’t have a soulmate, he wanted to leave them a mark, just in case, the same way Jazz wrote quotes from different books on her arms.)

(When he found out Vlad didn’t have a soulmate, he refused to acknowledge another similarity they shared. He refused to think about how Vlad’s desperation made Danny think of his own desperate writing for his soulmate. Soulmates were a topic he never spoke of, and Vlad must have known, must have found out about how Danny didn’t have one, but he never commented on it. (It was the only boundary that was never crossed.))

(Damian wasn’t disappointed when his soulmate stopped writing to him. he didn’t trace over his arms, wishing that he had the confidence to write back. He didn’t spend hours wondering if his soulmate was gone without knowing Damian had seen him. He didn’t trace over the drawings his soulmate made with awe after four years of silence.)

Damian always covered up, so he was the only one who noticed when his soulmate started writing to him again. Never sentences never notes like they were before, but shaky drawings appeared on his skin. They were less detailed than before, almost shaky, as if the person drawing them couldn’t hold a pencil, steady, but they were real. Damian never said a word.

It was October 15 when Damien saw something on his arms that made his blood go cold. A message that he read over and over while commandeering the plane and ignoring the rest of his family yelling for him to explain himself. He desperately calibrated the jet while staring at the words, praying to a God he did not believe in that he would not be too late.(Unaware that Todd was following going in the same direction with the similar message written on his arm from a girl that Jason had deemed too good for him.)

Dear soulmate, even if you aren’t there. Everyone in Casper high is writing on their arms and I might as well try to warn someone. I am from Amity Park, Illinois, and we are under attack. The GIW have cut all outside communication. We are currently hiding in Casper high school, barricading the entrances, but it will not last long.

According to the government, we are not legally sentient or human. The agents outside want to dissect us, citing that we are scum. I don’t want to see my classmates die at the hands of my parents. I don’t want to see my friends and my sister die.

I don’t know if you are there, or if I really don’t have a soulmate, but I don’t want to die (fully) without leaving some sort of note.

My name is Danny. I love you. I’m sorry.

[hinamie]

all i have left

[da-janela-lateral]

So many subspecies...!

[egophiliac]

innocently logging in to look at the Twst schedule for May like

[puckingdisaster]

I desperately need a hockey pairing to write a fic inspired by Let's go (Battle) by Taylor Swift but I can't think of any. I'm using placeholders right now and I hate it. But all my go to besties are still happily together on the same team and I want something close to reality time wise. Anyone have an idea for a pairing I could use?

[plumadot]

e v e r y t h i n g b u r n s

[major-comet]

the biggest problem with tos’ episodic format is that the episode usually ends pretty quickly after the conflict resolves and then they never really talk about it again - no matter how intense or harrowing it was

which means that we don’t get to actually *see* the interpersonal fallout of bones being diagnosed with and cured from a previously-incurable terminal illness (that he didn’t even want to tell jim and spock he had), and then just four episodes later drugging them so that he can go be tortured (and likely die) instead of spock, and so jim doesn’t have to make the choice between them.

did they talk about it? beyond just a standard debrief and a “never fucking do that again bones i swear to god i mean it this time”? did they make it the captains’ quarters for the debrief, only for mccoy to be pulled into a crushing, trembling hug as soon as the door shut while jim tried to assure himself that bones was still here, was still breathing? spock hovering nearby - a hand gently coming to rest on his shoulder?

why didn’t mccoy want to tell them about the xenopolycythemia, anyways? to try and hold onto a few more normal-ish months before every time they looked at him their eyes would be filled with grief - mourning a man they hadn’t yet lost? the same reason he ran away; to spare them what he went through with his father?

only for him to immediately turn around and throw himself back to the wolves to (almost) die right in front of them anyways

i don’t really know how they handled it. whether they talked about it and attempted to soothe the hurt, or just resolutely tried to bottle it up.

but i do know this: spock eventually came back from gol because jim simply (though accidentally) called out for him in a moment of need. bones only came back because jim personally drafted him back into starfleet