Ivory - An Eburnean Tommy AU

lii - "Your character was like a fuel to his fire."

Ivory - lii - Fuel To My Fire

Created: 04.18.23

Finished: 04.25.23

Edited: 08.27.23

Published: 08.28.23

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Trigger Warning: heavy dissociation and identity crisis, mentions of sensitive past, yelling and swearing, breakdown and verge of panic attacks, vague emetophobia, light gore, heavy description of stitches and sewing skin, intimate-like contact(its for the sake of comfort dw)

Word Count: 5959

A/N:  RAHH its very late, and I didnt realise a week has passed- and I forgot this chapter required a heavy edit cuz it was just so bad that I had to rewrite a lot of it. It was difficult because it was one scene and I have to keep two people talking, and also there was spicy things happened at the end that i have to take breaks cuz it was just that hard to do. you'll see:33

hope ur doing well, this a/n is short cuz im sleepy and its late and i have somewhere to go tomorrow and things to do soo ahhh- see you all next week- for another chapter. if im finally adjusted to the school workload and schedules, hopefully there'll be two chapters that can come around in a week quite soon. Also i really wish i could draw art just for the chapters, it makes it look more cool and have a visual aid..school stinks.

am glad you all are patient, and just generally amazing, hope you all doing well, and..i hope this chapter gives you a little break, and something to hold on before everything falls apart. Enjoy^^

NOTE: This is a continuation POV of Chapter 50 - You Ruined The Colour Blue For Me. You may reread it in order to make sense of this chapter.

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"I have to get out here.."

"Wilbur-"

"I have to get out here.."

Irritation bubbles up but repressed by his throat. All he needs is to speak up, and tell him to-

"I HAVE TO GET OUT HE-"

"Wil, shut the fuck up!" Quackity yells, grabbing his attention, "There's nothing you can do!"

..No, he has to get out here.

He can't stay here forever - gods the worms tickling his body urge him to get out. The itch that he needs to scratch, the itch to escape-

"Your stitches, Wil..They're tearing up.."

Wilbur looks down and goes numb feeling a familiar warmth on his hands. It trickles down on the ground, creating a small noise against all the silence,

"Wil-"

"If I get to cut my whole hands off, I'll be able to pull pass the binds-"

"And then what? How will you be able to unlock the door? How will you be able to go past the guards? Do you even know the outline of this fucking prison?"

He didn't even give him a chance to answer, "No- You fucking don't. So sit your ass down cuz there's nothing we can do to get ourselves out of this fucking mess."

Wilbur exhales, but that made him shut up. He let his hands drop down on the floor, letting his blood flow.

His broken skin, it doesn't bother him. Nothing bothers him except the stitches of his heart tearing apart.

And that one? That one hurts more than his hands about to fall into pieces,

Although he stopped struggling, still he mutters something between breaths and whispers.