A/N
hellooooooo, its me
am i posting this instead of working on the fanfic people actually care about? yes
but I have writers block so this is just me attempting to persevere past that, so sorry if its not my best work :(
regardless, I hope you enjoy!
TW: torture, injury, puking, murder (lmk if I forget anything!)
ABOUT: Tommy, an avian, is injured by a group of hunters. Wilbur comforts him and helps him through it because I have brainrot
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Wings, throughout the years, had grown to be a sign of great power.
Whether by their magnificent span, the otherworldly implications they held, or the symbol of nobility that had grown to represent, bearing wings would make discreetness...an issue, to say the least.
Cloaks could only do so much, especially when you lose yours in a previous confrontation with a group of hunters wishing for a pair of wings to mount above their fireplace.
Tommy and Wilbur happened to be learning that the hard way.
"Please, darling, only a few more steps," his brother begged, arm held as stability beneath his shoulders, half dragging him away from the dark alleyway. "We're so close. Please, just a little more, I promise."
Tommy whimpered in pain as he clutched at his bloodied side, dagger dug deep into the skin of his upper leg. The slightest movement made it tear further into flesh, blood dripping down and just barely staunched by the deadly metal. Even taking a stabilizing step brought forth a flame that traveled through his every nerve, tears pouring down his face as the strike of nerves as Wilbur clutched him to his chest.
His sobs were muffled by the gag in his mouth–a stray piece of cloth torn from Wilbur's trench coat, made to make their fast traveling less conspicuous so his screams weren't heard by all of the nighttime passersby. Wilbur hated it, hated having to treat Tommy like this, but they had no choice if either of them were to survive.
His only goal was to keep his brother alive.
No matter what.
A particularly staggered step nearly made Tommy crumple as he doubled over, attempting to ignore the acid in his mouth as he struggled not to throw up the few morsels of food in his stomach.
He almost fell before Wilbur swiftly wrapped a second arm underneath him, easily picking up his skinny weight and holding him securely against his chest. He was careful not to touch the blood-soaked portion of his torn jeans, knife hilt sticking out from the fabric.
"Just over here, Toms. Then I can help you," he panted, wincing as one of Tommy's muted red wings nearly hit the nearby wall. "Just hang on."
Tommy said nothing in response, burying his face into his brother's shoulder. It was difficult to resist the urge to scream, breathing heavily through his nose as the pain in his leg almost seemed to worsen by the moment.
"Breathe, honey. Just breathe."
He took in a shuddering inhale, hands shaking as they wrapped around Wilbur's shoulders to stabilize himself.
He was so stupid.
Why had he allowed himself to be caught so easily? Why had he separated from Wil?
His brother's own breaths were ragged in deep with exertion, blood staining his clothes from the men he'd been forced to kill to escape. Overgrown brick walls lining their sides did little to shield them from the cold as shivers violently racked through them.
YOU ARE READING
Dark SBI & Fluffy Oneshots
Fanfiction'Do you know how worried we were?' his brother asked, a hiss sounding as Tommy attempted to move to look up at him. He was only squeezed tighter in response. 'You didn't come home last night. How was I supposed to know that you hadn't gotten lost?' ...
