#whumpril 2024
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Whumpril Prompt #20
Touch Starved
TW:
Whumpee was alone.
Whumpee was nearly always alone now. Before, they had a life. They had friends. They even had a lover. But now, they were alone.
Unfortunately, there were times when they were not alone. It is unfortunate because the only times whumpee is not alone is when whumper is with them, and that is worse.
Whumper is a torturer. For fun. Who does that?
Whumper does the normal torture things, like cutting, and burning, and all the typical stuff. But their favorite is psychological torture. Whumpee is learning that the hard way.
In all the time that whumper has had whumpee, they have never touched, skin on skin. Whumper has always had a pole, or a whip, or something else similar. If they had to touch, whumper would wear thick, cold gloves.
And whumper never spoke. Whumpee found that out the hard way too. Speaking is not allowed. If whumpee speaks, they don’t get food for a week, and they are left in solitary. This happened so often in the beginning that when whumper finally came to let them out, whumpers face was like a terrible angel. Whumpee had never been so glad to see someone they hated so much.
All of this meant that when caretaker finally found whumpee, they didn’t believe it.
Whumpees door creaked open, and they looked blearily up from the floor. The light was bright behind the person, and all they could see was a silhouette.
The shadow walked slowly towards them, and their eyes adjusted to the light. This was not whumper.
Whumpee shrunk back into the corner, desperately afraid. They hadn’t seen someone other than whumper since before they were taken. They must be dead.
“Hey there,” the shadow said. Their voice was loud and grated against Whumpees ears. “I’m caretaker, what’s your name?”
Whumpee shook their head, eyes wide and frightened.
“That’s ok, you don’t have to tell me. Is it alright if I sit next to you?” Caretaker advanced.
Whumpee shrunk even further back, but caretaker was undeterred. They plopped down right in front of them, criss-cross-applesauce.
“I need to ask you some questions, but it’s ok if you don’t want to talk. Just nod yes or no, ok?” Caretaker assured.
Whumpee nodded.
“Have you been here a long time?”
Whumpee nodded.
“Have you been hurt?”
Whumpee nodded.
“Can we help you get out of here?”
Whumpee started. Get out of here? What do they mean, get out of here? That’s impossible. They tried. But… maybe these people knew how to? Speaking of that, how did caretaker even get in here in the first place? Who are these people? Maybe they aren’t with whumper after all; maybe they really do want to help them!
Whumpee slowly nodded. Caretaker smiled.
“Lovely. Can you stand?”
Whumpee shook their head. They hadn’t been able to stand up since whumper broke both of their legs.
“That’s ok, I can help you. Can I help you?” Caretaker was being awfully nice.
Whumpee nodded, and caretaker leaned over and took their hand.
Oh my. Caretaker was holding their hand. It was warm, and soft, and inviting. Whumpee was going to be sick. They pulled their hand back swiftly as if it had been burned, and cradled it to their chest.
“Oh, are you alright? Did I hurt you?” Caretaker was worried. For whumpee. Caretaker took their hand. And it felt good.
What was whumper going to do? Would they put them in solitary for weeks? Months? How much food would they get? Touching is definitely not allowed.
But before whumpee could keep stressing, they felt strong arms wrap around them.
Whumpee immediately tensed, freaking out. But it was so warm, and comforting, and soft.
Whumpee couldn’t do anything but melt into the feeling and allow caretaker to gently lift them up off the ground and carry them away.
#whump#whump writing#whumpee#writing snippet#whump prompt#whumper#whump community#whump scenario#whumpblr#whumpril#whumpril 2024
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Snippet: "I don't want to do this anymore."
For the @whumpril prompt 'stoicism breaks'
Fandom: Star Wars
Pairing: Commander Fox & Commander Cody
Rating: M
Tags: panic attacks, anxiety, corporal punishment, hurt/comfort, Cody is a good brother, angst, Fox needs a hug
Full fic now avaliable here
“Oh, Fox, what happened?” That had the other commander looking at him sharply.
“I have everything in hand here, Sir.”
A polite way of asking him to leave. With anyone else, Cody would have done so, respecting their right to privacy, but this was Fox - his closest batchmate.
He opened his mouth to argue back in that equally polite, passive-aggressive tone that all Commanders seemed to possess, but was stopped when Fox let out a wheezing gasp.
“Thire!”
Fox reached out towards the other Commander, Thire, with shaking, clammy hands that Thire dutifully took into his own once again, even as he shot Cody a glare.
“I don’t want to do this anymore.” Fox declared, eyes darting around blindly in his wild panic, voice wobbling precariously in a way that had Cody’s heart clenching in despair for him. “Please don’t make me, I can’t do this anymore!” It was all too clear that wherever Fox was, it wasn’t in the present.
“Hush now,” Cody was moving in to comfort the other before his mind had caught up with it, paying no heed to Thire who looked as if he wanted to bite Cody’s head off. “Thire and I will keep you safe.” He might not have known Thire, but that fact enough was plain to see.
Fox only blinked rapidly, more fat tears rolling down his cheeks, but gave no indication he’d heard.
Thire nodded along, seemingly having reached the decision that Cody could be trusted with this. He began to talk in that low, soothing tone again. Cody reckoned that if he’d been in Fox’s place, that alone would have been a real comfort. Thire had a knack for this, it seemed.
Humming affirmatively in all the right places but otherwise not interfering too much, Cody took the opportunity to take in Fox’s appearance, to really take it in now that his original shock had worn off.
He’d lost weight since Cody’s last visit - that was the first thing he noticed. Fox’s cheeks were all but hollow, gaunt with dark shadows beneath his eyes that he knew from experience would take more than one good night’s sleep to vanquish. His hair hung in a limp, greasy mess, partially obscuring his eyes and Cody spied a large bruise forming along his jaw, more in the shape of a boot than a fist.
Had Fox been kicked in the head?
Cody doubted he’d get an answer any time soon, but what he saw still concerned him. Bruise aside, it was clear that Fox hadn’t been taking care of himself. For as long as Cody had known him, he’d prided himself on his neat and proper appearance. To have let such a thing slip spoke of a much deeper issue than Cody had time to rectify.
Despite his best efforts, Fox made a desperate clutch at Thire again, apparently blind to the fact that he was already grasping both of the other man’s hands tightly.
“I don’t want to do this anymore.” He repeated as if it were the only thing he remembered how to say.
“I know… But you’re doing so well, I promise. “Just try to focus on my breathing.” Thire began to take in deep, exaggerated breaths and Cody was once again made aware of how practised it seemed, as if Thire had done this a thousand times. But why would he need to in the guard? It was well known how safe and relatively stress free the battalion’s posting was.
Full fic now avaliable here
#star wars fanfics#star wars#commander fox#commander thire#commander cody#livy's writing#whumpril 2024
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🖤 Whumpril Prompt I - Limp 🖤
Poems from the perspective of Caretaker.
This is no death, this is a levitation,
bidden by my tenderest command.
Rise, you bloodless, boneless, rise, you kitten-soft.
Chest-first, and trailing towards the Earth,
all limp against the downpull, be aloft.
This is no death, this is an inspiration.
Thine is the passion, where the passion ebbs,
thine is the power, whose neck and soul loll back,
who fainting, fading, sparkles with dark stars.
Thine is the sight, whose eyes are clouded black.
This is no death, this is a coronation.
Be easy, none oppose you while I stand.
Tired warrior, I was busy - all your enemies are dead.
You’ll soon awake to find me bowing,
and a crown upon your head.
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Whumpril 2024
-9- Self-doubt
"What did you want to be when you grew up?"
"What, when I was a kid?"
"Yeah, of course." Adam laughed a bit and tugged on the cuff of Harry's jumper. "I didn't mean, like, last year what did you want to be."
Harry caught his hand held it by the wrist, traced the lines in his palm. "Well, when I was really small, the usual. Fireman, bus driver, train driver. For a while I wanted to be the postman."
Adam grinned, imagining Harry having been three or four, enthusiastic about mass transit.
"I thought it would be fun to learn all the houses that had dogs, so I could put little bone-shaped biscuits through the letter slots in the doors. Then the dogs would like me."
"Complicated plan," Adam teased. They were down the road, on a bench in a little grass patch of a park. It was overcast but the air was still. Paper cappuccino cups sat beside them, one empty, one full.
"Later I thought maybe I'd be the first man on Mars."
"God, that's cute."
"What about you? What did you want to be?"
"You know, I don't think I thought about it much," Adam mused. "I wanted to run fast. Wanted to go places, ran away a lot."
"Where'd you go?"
"Down the road a bit until my suitcase got too heavy. Once to the train station, my mum reminded me. It's not that I wanted to leave them, my parents. Just, I knew I didn't belong. And I wanted to get away from that feeling, like physically get away." Adam shrugged. He had to wrestle the risk he felt confessing, "I wanted to be in a group, lip syncing my # 1 while teenagers danced around me on Top of the Pops."
"Yeah, that's no surprise," Harry said affectionately. "All those records, and you're always singing along under your breath."
"You hear that?" Adam asked, knowing it was true but wishing he could believe otherwise.
"Course. In the shower, too. You'd have made a great pop idol."
"No."
"I'd have put your poster on my wall," Harry assured him. "Swooned when you came on the radio. Or the telly. Why didn't you? Start a group? Everyone does that at uni."
"Then the whole world would've seen me prancing about, acting gay. I couldn't have helped myself, and I couldn't have lived with it."
Harry brought his hand up to kiss Adam's thumb. "That's sad. You'd have been amazing. What a waste."
"Yeah, well," Adam shrugged it off, an old dream for another day. "My talents lie elsewhere."
A mischievous smile put a curve in Harry's lips, and he tipped his head toward home. "I'll say they do." He got to his feet and pulled Adam along with him. "C'mon home, you can sing to me in the shower after."
#not to be controversial but how are a gay and a straight the most gay couple on earth#writing#ficlet#whumpril 2024#whump#not very whumpy#All of Us Strangers#writing is easy#Adam#Harry
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Like Father, Like Son
Whumpril April 2024
April 5th, 2024
RECKLESS
William Regal
TW: Drew Gulak
Main Verse
There was a pride in seeing his son doing so well within the company of his choice. That was, after all, why William Regal had chosen to make his return to said company. Despite the pride he took in his Combat Club, they were not his children. There was a different sort of pride when it came to ones progeny, after all. It was also, in turn, why he was so worried about the sort of company his son was keeping. Particularly, William Regal was concerned with Drew Gulak.
Most would find that laughable, he was well aware of that. Drew was extremely unassuming, just one look at his history in 205 Live proved that. The PowerPoint Presentation era of Mr. Gulak was not indicative of who Drew Gulak was as a competitor. No, this era of Mr. Gulak was the true Drew Gulak. He was strong, sharp-minded. As evident with the rest of the CatchPoint Gym, Drew knew how to get what he wanted through violence and careful planning. Regal recognized the man Drew Gulak was because he was that sort of man.
It was why he knew that his son was making the wrong choice in letting the man dictate his career.
Maybe it was reckless, showing up to the locker room the Catchpoint boys used. With some careful prodding at Ava Raine, the woman who had taken over for his old position as general manager, Regal had even been allowed inside of the room. He had taken a spot in a chair in the corner, patient as possible. The door opened and, as predictable as ever, Drew was the first of the team to arrive. If there was any surprise that Regal was waiting for him, the Philly native did not show it. He crossed to the bench, placing his bags down. "Mr. Regal. I've been expecting you."
Was that a smirk Regal detected in his voice?
"Expecting me, Mr. Gulak?" Regal raised an amused eyebrow, a chuckle in his throat, "For whatever reason would you be expecting me?"
"Yes sir," Drew removed his ring jacket from his bag, not turning to look at the other man as he spoke, "ever since I started mentoring your son. Though, I have to say, I've been a lot more respectful to yours than you've been to mine."
Now that was an interesting statement.
"Your son, Mr. Gulak?" Regal questioned, standing and crossing to the locker, "As far as I know, you were unmarried and without children."
"There's lots of ways to have kids. Adoption is one of them, sunshine."
Sunshine. The mere thought of the man brough a soft smile to Regal's face. There was only one man that Drew could be referring to. "So. Young Master Wheeler is your progeny?"
"Since I took him under my wing, I've viewed that boy as my own son," Drew finally turned to look at Regal, an anger in his eyes, "And you routinely beat him bloody. You routinely beat him into submission."
"So that is why you have the interest in my Charles, then?" Regal questioned, "I assure you, he is made of far stronger stuff than you believe."
Drew shook his head, "No, no. You misunderstand my intentions, your lordship. I don't plan on harming him like you did my Wheeler. I plan on making him greater than you ever were."
#whumpril 2024#kays whumpril 2024#nxt imagine#william regal imagine#tw: drew gulak#character: william regal#character: drew gulak
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The Mortality He Chose [Astarion/Tav Hurt/Comfort]
Again, I am posting the stories for @whumpril out of order, because of plot reasons. So today's prompt for me was Dizziness. :D
The Mortality He Chose
Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3
Shipping: Astarion/m!Tav
Genre: Action & Hurt/Comfort
Astarion realizes too late that he has made a mistake.
#whumpril#whumpril 2024#prompt: dizziness#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate 3#bg3#astarion#astarion x tav#tavstarion#my tav#hurt/comfort
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Title: Sweat
Rated: Explicit
Ship: Austin Theory/Grayson Waller
Tags: Working out, sweat, semi-public sex, exhibition, shower sex, oral sex, intercrural sex, praise, banter, liberal use of swear-words.
Grayson tries to run through Austin's workout routine; it doesn't go well. But the cool-down afterward is much more his speed.
Written for @whumpril, prompt #2: Sweat
#grayson waller#austin theory#a town down under#tragically written#wrestling#no beta we die like men#whumpril 2024
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Whumpril 2024 Day 3: Shame
@whumpril hi again, just gonna tag you every day i guess lol
Warnings: crying quite a lot, self blame again idk what’s up w this girly, recovery, nightmares, again she’s having to be reassured that what happened wasn’t her fault, aftermath of torture
(everly’s out of town rn)
Day 3: Shame
Selma pressed her palms against her eyes, as if that would stop the tears.
‘I’m sorry,’ she kept repeating. ‘I’m sorry you had to see me like that.’
Morgan looked at her with the sweetest, kindest gaze, which just made it worse. She wished Morgan wasn’t like that. Their kindness was helpful, but Selma couldn’t help feeling like a burden.
‘It’s alright, Selms. It’s not your fault; it’s his.’
‘I know. I can’t help it.’ Selma moved into a cross-legged position and rubbed her face again.
‘I don’t want to go back to sleep,’ she admitted after a moment.
Morgan immediately nodded. ‘Okay. Do you want me to stay here, if you’re going to stay up?’
Morgan’s quick response took Selma by surprise. Everly would’ve quickly said that she needed to sleep to recover properly. Morgan just got it.
Selma wanted to say yes, she really did. But she was so full of shame; Morgan wasn’t supposed to see what Selma was like at night; nighttime was Everly’s job. Even now that they sat in silence, she knew that her screams, her pleads to a Finn who wasn’t present, her gasps and cries were still ringing in Morgan’s ears.
‘I-’ Her tears stopped her from speaking. Instead, she looked up at Morgan, watched them smile that comforting smile, and cried.
‘Please stay with me,’ she sobbed. ‘I don’t want to be alone.’
#whumpril24#whumpril24 day 3#whumpril2024#whumpril2024 day 3#whumpril 2024#whumpril 2024 day 3#shame#whumpril#whump event#whump#katalina’s writing*#whumpblr#whump writing#caretaker#whumpee#selma (oc)#morgan (oc)#everly (oc)#finn (oc)#poor girl isn’t used to being looked after by morgan#and morgans way better than everly at it#they get it
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Whumpril 2024 - Day 21
"Just Hold On"
Read on AO3 here.
Bridget Halstead hates Emergency Rooms and the way that it takes forever to be seen. But she's never hated them as much as she does right now with her three year old son crying in her arms.
@whumpril
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Whumpril 2024: Day 03. Shame
TW: underage dub-con, stepcest, mild sexual content.
Jessica isn't as stupid and brainless as Joan seems to think she is. Her mind broken or not, trained to switch to Joan's personal attack dog or not, she's too conscious of what is happening much more often than Jessica would like.
And she's conscious every single time Joan decides to use her like that. Jessica wants to vomit and burn and die every time, even more when Joan keeps saying her name (keeps interchangibly calling her by her mom's name).
She minds just a little less when Joan uses a toy, it's a little less humiliating. She can take fingers and tongue when she distracts herself with thoughts about everything she likes to do with Jennifer (she feels a little less disgusting when she thinks she can pretend Jennifer would still want her if she knew how dirty and used Jessica actually is).
Joan's hands feel too warm, too strong, on her waist to guide how she moves. A grip a little stronger and Jessica thinks she's be bleeding from Joan's nails. Her thighs and between them hurt. And her throat feels thight with nausea, with need to cry. She controls how hard she's holding Joan's forearms (because Joan likes when she does that).
Joan knows where and how to touch.
Joan knows how to play with her body.
Joan knows how to make it feel good.
Joan smirks at her and moves one of her hands down, her thumb finding her clit andher body burns with the shame of feeling this unwanted pleasure. She wants to growl and snap, bite down onto Joan's throat like the feral dog she has been trained to be.
She's supposed to be a soldier, not a fucking whore.
Joan sits up, her other hand grabbing the back of her neck, pulls her to a kiss. Jessica can taste the fucking poison on her mouth.
"Such a good fuck toy," she whispers. "You don't know how much I love feeling you up like this."
She knows, she knows all of this, Joan loves saying all of this.
Jessica knows she'll never be free of the shame (of the disgust because she's stronger, she should be able to fight, to not be touched).
#whumpril 2024#whumpril day 03#whump#whump community#whump blog#whumpblr#lady whump#non-con tw#stepcest cw
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Whumpril Prompt #18
Broken Glass
TW: PTSD, cuts, self deprecation, body dysmorphia
Whumpee had been home for nearly half a year now. They still struggled every day.
Whumper broke them. When caretaker found them, chained up, shivering on the cold ground in the dungeon, they thought it would be simple. It was not.
Not only did whumpee have wounds covering nearly every part of their body, but their mind was wounded as well. When with whumper, they lost all of their self esteem. They didn’t think they deserved anything, and they were so beat down and broken that they didn’t even realize what whumper did to them.
Caretaker was trying so hard, but sometimes it just felt like it was not working. Today was one of those days.
Caretaker came home from work in good spirits. They had gotten a lot done today, and on the way home they were able to stop and buy some treats for a movie night tonight. But when they opened the door, it was unusually quiet.
Since whumpee had been back, they liked to hum or sing to themselves to remind them that they could do what they wanted- with whumper, they could never make a sound. They were a beautiful singer.
But whumpee was silent. Caretaker carefully set their things down, then walked quickly and quietly through the house.
“Whumpee? Where are you?” They called softly as they passed each room. They noticed the bathroom door was closed and light leaking out from under it. They knocked gently on the door. “Whumpee, are you alright? Can I come in?”
There was no answer. “Ok, I’m coming in.” Caretaker gently opened the door and peeked in.
Surrounded by broken glass with tears streaming down their face, whumpee sat in the middle of the bathroom floor. “Oh whumpee,” caretaker soothed. They went and sat down next to whumpee, disregarding the cuts they were getting from the glass on their legs.
Caretaker enveloped whumpee in their arms. “Are you alright?” They asked. Whumpees crying had slowed down, and they were wiping their eyes with the back of their hand.
“I don’t know caretaker, I was just trying to take a shower without needing help, and I saw in the mirror, and I just- I-” whumpee hiccuped. They continued in a whisper, almost ashamed of saying it out loud. “It scared me, caretaker. My own reflection scared me. How pathetic is that?” New tears started leaking down their face as they stared dejectedly at the floor. “I just didn’t realize how much whumper changed me.”
Caretaker didn’t really know what to say to that. It was true that before whumper, whumpee was stunning. They had perfect skin and long eyelashes, but now… not so much. When caretaker found them, they honestly didn’t recognize them for a second. But that is definitely not what they should say to whumpee now.
Caretaker scooted in front of whumpee and held their shoulders. “Look at me whumpee.” Whumpees eyes looked up at them through their eyelashes. “You are beautiful. You were beautiful before whumper and you are beautiful now. Change can be hard and scary, but you are doing amazing. I look at you every day and marvel at your strength and courage. You are beautiful. Do you believe that?”
Whumpees eyes shone with tears.
“I don’t know yet, but I think I might soon.”
Caretaker beamed. “That’s good enough for me. Wanna watch a movie?”
Whumpees lips formed a small smile. “Ok, I’d like that.”
They stood up together and walked toward the couch.
“But no more romcoms.”
#whump#whump writing#whumpee#writing snippet#whump prompt#whumper#whump community#whump scenario#whumpblr#whumpril#whumpril 2024#caretaker
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Snippet: Tempest
Fil for the @whumpril prompt 'just hold on' but also fits with the alternative prompt 'eyes rolled back' too
Fandom: Star Wars
Pairing: Commander Fox & Commander Cody
Rating: M
Tags: seizures, whump, Fox needs a hug, Cody needs a hug, post-chip conspiracy arc, angst, hurt/no comfort, angry!Cody, minor violence, drug withdrawl
Full fic now avaliable here
“Fox?”
Fox’s neck was ridged, entire body tight as he moved his head again strangely, jerkily, as if he were trying to nod his head but wasn’t sure how. Something settled in the pit of Cody’s stomach alongside his rage, something… wrong. “Fox.”
“‘M… f’ne…. ‘M ok…” The words were slurred out behind clenched teeth, low and hoarse as if Fox were speaking from his guts. The man himself looked far away, face becoming redder by the second.
Cody took a step back. Still keyed up, he had no idea what to do next, only that something was utterly, terribly, wrong.
“Fox, you look-”
Cody was given no time to react and catch his batchmate as Fox tipped backwards. His head slammed into the corner of the cabinet in the corner as he did so, dropping to the floor like a ton of durasteel.
Fox hit the floor hard, head bouncing on the worn-down carpet.
Cody started around the desk quickly and made to reach out to Fox, to help him to sit up and to check the back of his head, anger forgotten. But before he could so much as open his mouth, Fox’s whole body began to jerk and spasm.
His arms and legs shook hard, uncontrollably, and hit anything in their path. It was all Cody could do to avoid one of Fox’s boots as it came close to kicking him in the shin. Wide eyes travelled up Fox’s spasming, writhing form to his face which had turned an even deeper shade of red, jaw clenched tightly shut and eyes rolling back into his head wildly.
Cody’s anger flooded into panic between one heartbeat and the next. This was a seizure, he realised. He’d heard about them in his medical training, as all clones had, but never seen one up close. Cody didn’t know much about how to help his batchmate, but he remembered that touching and trying to hold him down usually did more harm than good. The only thing he could do was watch helplessly as Fox thrashed about, and move any potentially hazardous objects out of the paths of his flailing limbs.
Shoving Fox’s desk chair well out of reach, Cody fell to his knees by his side. His hands hovered outwards as he debated rolling Fox into the recovery position, limbs shaking almost as much as his batchmate’s, but ultimately decided against it. Unless Cody pinned him down, Fox would roll right onto his back again.
The colour of his face had turned darker, as if Fox were suffocating. His expression was pinched tight and agonised.
There was only one thing for it.
“Fuck, just hold on - I’m gonna get help.”
Full fic now avaliable here
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❤️ Whumpril IV - Swaying ❤️
Poems from the perspective of Caretaker.
Oh, will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you fall?
The world all holds its breath to watch you sway.
No, boys. A slow song’s coming on, that’s all.
I won’t, I will not, watch him die this way.
May I cut in and steal this dance from Death?
With my hand on your waist, yours ‘round my neck,
with drumming, nervous hearts and halting breath,
let me lead you, swaying, from this wreck.
#No that's not John Wick what are you talking about I'm not obsessed and can definitely draw things that aren't JW related#...Actually yes it is. I wanted to give him a sword and a frighteningly tall woman who cares for his wellbeing.#but it could also be someone else if you want#john wick#john wick fanart#whumpril#whumpril 2024#whump poetry#original poem#original art#whump caretaker#whump writing#swaying
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Whumpril 2024
-18- Broken Glass
For no real reason, Harry assumed it would take his family ages to come clean out his flat. They'd have the wake and funeral to cope with, and that must take nearly a week. Then finding someone to let them in the building, give them a key to his door. At least a day arguing about who would do it (his mum would say it was too much but that his dad should pack up everything and bring it back to her; his sister would say she was too busy with her kids, and she probably was; his brother might volunteer because he'd always been a bit morbid). From the time his body was taken away, he reckoned he had at least ten days. Maybe longer; the rent was paid through the end of the month.
He and Adam let themselves in on a dreary late morning, a week after his body had gone away, alone, in a van.
"Where's all my things?" he protested, feeling violated, like he'd been burgled. The furniture was there, of course. The telly on its stand, plates and pots and teacups in the kitchen, wineglasses hung by their feet beneath the cupboards. But where were his books? He'd only had a few, carefully chosen, which he kept because he wanted to read them again. One had the author's signature in it.
"Someone cleaned it," Adam offered, looking sorry, for some reason trying to gentle him. It made Harry angrier to be coddled; he had reason to be fucked off about it. "Your family? So soon?"
Harry shouldered past him, a rough brush of their chests that made Adam step backward half a pace. Harry was glad of the chance to get physical with someone, even the wrong someone. It was the same in his bedroom. A new, clean mattress on the bed. His clothes gone from the cupboard and chest. There'd been socks on the floor, a water glass on the bedside table, a blanket he'd liked enough to move from flat to flat ever since he left home. He knelt and looked under the bed for a box full of ticket stubs, foreign coins, his passport, letters from people who'd cared enough about him to send letters at all. Worse than burgled; he'd been deleted.
"No one cares," he muttered, getting to his feet and storming through the flat. Adam stood helpless and silent by the open bedroom door. "No one cares that I was ever here."
"Harry."
"Why is it like I was never even here?" he raged, and his vision blurred with tears. "I'm here for my things. I'm here!" He yanked a wine glass from where it hung from the rack in the kitchen, and hurled it across the flat. It smashed against the big window, an explosion of shards and specks, a satisfying brittle sound. He threw another one. And another. Adam reached his side as he kicked the TV to the floor, grabbing for his arm just as he was about to take a swing at a mirror hanging on the wall above it.
Holding Harry's fist in both his hands, Adam loudly said, "That's enough," and stood between him and the mirror, though Harry didn't want him there, didn't want to look at him just then. "That's enough, you'll only hurt yourself."
All at once, Harry's fury deflated, and his breath caught on a sob he worked to swallow. "Do you think they were here--my family--and we didn't even know?"
Adam was still holding his hand, and worked to loosen his fist, cradled Harry's hand to his chest and looked at him with soft eyes. "I don't know. Maybe." He shrugged a little, shook his head.
"I could have--" Harry started.
"No." Adam shook his head. "Don't think about that." He released his grip on Harry's hand and held him by the shoulders, then touched the side of his face. "Anyway, maybe it wasn't them."
"That's worse," Harry said. "Bad enough to think they were right here, and I never knew. But maybe they couldn't even be bothered."
Adam pulled Harry's head down onto his shoulder, caressed the back of his head, kissed him and whispered beside his ear. "You're loved, Harry. Nevermind." Kissed him once more. "You're loved."
#writing is easy#ficlet#whumpril 2024#whump#All of Us Strangers#Harry#remind me to never again whump the same two characters every day for a month
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Never Ashamed
Whumpril 2024
April 3, 2024
SHAME
Alex Shelley/Chris Sabin
Main Verse
Two hundred and eighteen days.
Alex Shelley had been the Impact World Champion for two hundred and eighteen days. For most people that would be a title reign to be proud of. He had faced off against and beaten some of the best in the world. Hiroshi Tanahashi, Josh Alexander, even Jonathan Gresham had stepped up to the plate and all had been sent back to the back of the line. He had led the Impact roster all the way into the new era of TNA. They were all honorable moments.
So losing to a cheat and a bully like Moose brought him so much shame.
The sun was rising against the Las Vegas skyline, but Alex had yet to go to sleep. His mind raced with the events of the night before. What if he had been just a little more aggressive? What if he had put just a little more of himself into the match? Would the championship still be sitting next to the hotel room television, reflecting the hotel room bed where he and Chris Sabin currently laid, his partner pressed into his side snoring peacefully.
Chris.
In his loss, Alex had almost forgotten to congratulate Chris on his historic win. It was officially the longest reign that Chris had ever had, his tenth as X-Division Champion. El Hijo del Vikingo was no joke for such a young talent and Kushida, well, Alex felt like it would be cheating to say anything more about this best friend. Alex was certain that Chris would have preferred meeting up with some of the other roster members for drinks and a laugh. instead, Chris had stayed behind to hold Alex until he fell asleep.
"You could do so much better than me," Alex murmured to his sleeping companion, pressing a kiss to the top of Chris's head. He attempted to get up, but Chris snuggled in closer and tossed a leg over both of Alex's to trap him there.
"Shuttup," Chris tiredly murmured, burying his head in the crook of Alex's neck, "'stoo early for this."
Alex gave a small laugh, "Go back to sleep. I'm just gonna-"
"You are gonna do nothing but sleep," Chris protested, raising his head to scowl at Alex. It would have been much more intimidating if he didn't have to squint at Alex to properly see him. "I don't wanna get up. I don't wanna have you get up. I think I earned it. Ch-"
Chris cut himself off, closing his eyes before Alex spoke up, "No! No, you're right! Champ's privilege. You earned it. You did so good."
"Yeah, but you-"
"Let you down, that much I know," Alex admitted, "I should-"
"Shut up and kiss me," Chris nuzzled the back of Alex's neck, "we are gonna lay in this bed til you go to sleep."
"I don't need sl-"
"I said we are gonna lay here til you get some sleep," Chris groaned a little more forcefully. He tightened his grip on Alex, who sank further into the mattress. He may have felt shame, but at least he knew Chris was here to love him through it.
#kays whumpril 2024#whumpril 2024#impact imagine#tna imagine#character: alex shelley#character: chris sabin#motor city machine guns
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