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Fake fic titles INCOMING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Drown me ink
You can't change what's been carved in your soul
Pull my frown upside down
Cursed are the one's that twist the tale
Reflections
A bunch of amazing titles but I picked the one that gave me the most angsty feels LOL
[Ao3 Link]
Taglist: @poprockpanda @brick-a-doodle-do @local-squishmallow @dingbatnix @data-expunged-0 @da3dm
You Can’t Change What’s Been Carved in Your Soul
[752 words] [angst, self hatred]
Wilbur is a giant.
Overprotective and loud and overbearing.
He knew he hurt Tommy that way, being too much at all times. And yet he could never part from the little human, too close to him now to separate their bond. They were like brothers, it would kill Wilbur to leave like that.
But his claws were too sharp and he was afraid to hold Tommy. And his voice boomed and he was too afraid to talk to Tommy. And his steps echoed infinitely and he was too afraid to walk to Tommy.
It was all too much to bear.
He wanted to tear his soul out of this giant body, it’s dumb and fumbly steps, it’s piercing high voice, it’s sharp claws, and especially it’s urge to swallow Tommy whole.
It was only once Wilbur had brought up the instinct to Tommy, and the human curled up in disgust. The thought of being covered in saliva and in such a cacophony of sound inside someone’s organ was gross to him, where it was intimate love to Wilbur. It broke him.
He couldn’t take away that he was a giant, no matter how soft and human he acted. He’d always be the monster he was born as.
Wilbur hated himself. So much.
“Wil,” the human nagged at him.
“What child?”
“Oi!” Tommy huffed, “…You’re actin’ all weird. It’s not like you to be so quiet. What’s up?”
Wilbur had been found out, “Oh, nothing.”
“It’s not fucking nothing. You’re miserable, Wilbur.”
He bit his nails which had been torn down to the skin, “I don’t know what you’re fucking talking about.”
“Wilbur!” Tommy shouted now, “Tell me. Now.”
He hesitated, “I… I feel awful,” he regret saying it immediately, seeing Tommy’s expression turn to a frown.
The human stepped forward to him, and placed a hand on Wilbur’s arm, rubbing comfortingly, “Tell me about it, Wil.”
It made his mind shut down, suddenly he was sobbing loudly, and probably hurting Tommy’s ears again, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
“Woah- it’s okay big man! It’s okay, what’s wrong?”
“I hurt you, it’s all I do-“
“Hold the fuck on,” Tommy stopped him, “That’s what you’ve been fuckin’ doing. Fuck, Wilbur you’re not hurting me! You’ve never hurt me. If it’s about the damn volume it’s fine, man, I just poke fun at you cause we’re like that.”
“B-but,” Wilbur sniffed, “You cringed at the… when I-“ he couldn’t get out the words. He wanted to explain how deeply close he wanted Tommy to be, literally and metaphorically. He wanted to hold Tommy inside him, cuddling him in the most extreme way possible. That’s how much he loved his brother.
“Woah-“ Tommy was in Wilbur’s hands. Oh fuck. Wilbur couldn’t help himself. He looked delicious, and so upset all because of him.
His instincts cried, ringing louder than they had ever in Wilbur’s ears, piercing and bloody.
Surely this could explain without words, they cooed.
So, without letting himself think too hard, he shoveled Tommy into his mouth, tears streaming.
The human panicked, struggling against a tongue that was intrusively licking stripes along his body now. Teeth clicked firmly behind him, and his vision went dark.
Tommy briefly recalled a previous conversation and felt weak as he squeaked out, “Am I safe?”
A positive hum responded to him, vibrating against his body weirdly. Tommy laughed under his breath at the sensation and felt a wave of relief wash over him.
“Okay. I still say this is kinda gross. But whatever.”
The appendage squished Tommy between a wet hug, pressing rough into his body. He sighed and let into the embrace, wrapping his arms back around the tongue. A deep humming- no, purring, now filled the slobbery room.
Tommy let his body glide down, meeting the back of Wilbur’s throat. It looked like a tight squeeze, but Tommy thankfully wasn’t claustrophobic.
A few swallows and the embrace of the esophagus drug Tommy’s body down. He could feel Wilbur’s hand slowly tracing over the small bump that was the human.
Eventually the squish was over and Tommy slipped into an open area. The storage was roomy enough, at least for one person, and Tommy felt fairly comfortable. It was very warm, and the air might be a bit sticky, but Wilbur’s purring wouldn’t cease, so the human could cope.
If Wilbur was happy, so was Tommy.
And Wilbur never felt happier.
Maybe he couldn’t change himself, but he could learn to love the way he was.