#begging for help

[poppydoppy925]

I have mysteriously transformed into a melon.

H A L P .

[batwynn]

I’m about to go beg my waay too new doctor in this rich-ass rich person town to sign a paper for TPD for my student loans (my 4th attempt at this because they just now started to allow NPs to sign) because hey suddenly my payment plan recertification isn’t working even though I make barely $700 a month and every penny of that goes to bills and debt like this is not even close to your your average american’s salary, FAFSA give me a fucking break. So anyway. This will be fun.

[iwritewhump]

begging for help + hero's doorstep

day twenty-one of whumptember

924 words

warnings: vague talking about potentially risky situations, being kicked out

~

Hero runs a hand through his hair and sighs. He stands up and walks over to the microwave just before it goes off and opens the door. His microwaved mush is done so he takes it out and peels the film off the top, discarding it in the trash. He grabs a plastic fork from its box and makes his way to the living room, past the framed decades old newspapers of his victories on the wall, where he sits down on his couch and turns the TV on to a nature documentary. 

He pulls the lever for the footrest and stirs his dinner, frowning at the chunks of ice in the middle, but he takes a bite nonetheless, tasteless slop is tasteless slop, it doesn’t matter if it's hot or cold. His mouth curls in disgust and he chews slowly, trying to keep his tongue on the roof of his mouth so he can’t taste it. Swallowing thickly, Hero sets the bowl down on the floor and leans back in his chair and stares at his ceiling. He closes his eyes and exhales heavily, allowing sleep to overtake him. 

A noise pulls Hero from his unrestful sleep, he sits up in his chair and slams the footrest down. 

There’s a knock on the door and he takes a step towards it, his foot instantly sinking in something. He looks down at the very same moment he remembers the chunky brown “dinner” he’d set on the ground. He groans and closes his eyes for a second before there’s another knock on the door. 

“Give me a minute!” Hero shouts, pulling his sock off of his foot. He leaves it in the bowl and opens the door. “What?” 

He stares at Villain in front of him and sighs. She looks more tired than he is, her eyes are bloodshot and half closed. Her hair, usually well maintained, is unkempt and tangled, there might even be a few chunks missing, and her clothes look like she stole them off of a clothes line. 

He whistles and leans his head against the doorframe, “What happened to you?” 

She exhales shakily and looks at the ground, then back up at him, “Why do you only have one sock on?” 

Her voice is tired, more tired than he’d ever heard her. Even when she had to postpone one of their fights so she could study, or when she had to bring her backpack with her so she could get back to homework right after. 

“Long story,” he says dismissively, “What are you doing here?” 

She sighs and shakes her head, “Probably a longer one. But you told me when we first met that if I ever needed help with something you’d be able to…help me?” 

He nods, “I did. God that was a while ago, wasn’t it?” 

“Almost two years.” 

“Feels like longer,” Hero says, taking a step aside and waving her into his home. 

Villain steps in and looks around cautiously, eyes wide and searching for anything that might be a trap. She snickers and covers her mouth, stifling laughter. 

Hero follows her eye line and if he wasn’t so tired, he’d be embarrassed at her finding the sock filled microwave dinner on the floor. 

“What kind of help do you need?” He asks, walking into the kitchen and starting a pot of coffee. “Need someone taken care of? I know a lot of the people in Supervillain’s social group aren’t exactly upstanding citizens. Now that you’re not a child anymore they’re probably suggesting a lot of things.” 

“No, nothing like that,” She says with a small smile. “I just…need a place to stay for the night? I kinda-well. The thing is I-I sorta…” she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, “I got kicked out and Supervillain can’t put me up anywhere because all his connections would basically-well you know what they would do to me.” 

Hero nods. He leans against the counter and crosses his arms in front of his chest, staring lazily at the slowly filling coffee pot. He blinks a few times and looks at her, “How do I know this isn’t a trick? A ploy so you can be in my home where my guard is lowered and kill me? All you’ve done for the past two years is try to defeat me. How can I trust your story?” 

Villain’s entire body slumps, her carefully curated mask slips and shatters on the ground beneath her. Tears well in her eyes and sobs start to choke her, sticking in her throat. Her arms, usually super glued to her side, wrap tightly around her stomach and her stomach turns inside of her. 

Hero watches as her facade falls, her entire demeanor changes before he can close his mouth. 

“My story?” Villain hisses, spittle hitting Hero square in the chin. She takes a deep breath and tries to regain her composure. With each breath, Hero’s words echo in her head. “I shouldn’t have come. I’ll leave you alone and figure something else out.” 

Without giving him a chance to try and fix what he’d done, she turns around and walks out of the house. She stops at the door and looks back, tears streaming down her face. 

“I thought you’d believe me. Out of anyone I thought you would believe me.” she sniffles and slams the door behind her. 

Hero runs after her, opening the door and hoping for her to catch his eye. He sighs heavily and shakes his head, closing the door again.

~

part two?

[o-gods-above]

somebody please help me find coping strategies for shutdowns my tgerapist says I should find ways that aren't headphones because my school won't me wear them

[its-my-whump]

28. “I never should have let it come this far”

Failed hero | Hospital stay | Begging for help

TW: unconsciousness, gore, blunt trauma

"I'm not coming with you."

"But you may die here."

"Probably!... BUT...It.. it's my fault. So I have to pay for that now. I never should have let it come this far." Whumpee shook his head in despair and turned away ashamed.

"Neither should have I!" Caretaker's voice was strong. A whole lot of determination in it made whumpee turn around again.

"I'm not gonna let you sacrifice yourself for these miserable, ungrateful basta..."

The intended hit not only took whumpee by surprise, it missed its target on the back of his head.

Instead caretaker struck him down by hitting whumpee's temple. He went down like a log and Caretaker's heart literally stopped.

Whumpee's limp extremities sprawled out like someone had thrown an unused puppet into the corner. His head met the ground with a sickening wet thud.

Every drop of color left whumpee's face immedately. It looked like it was drained in the same motion the red pool around his head was forming.

"Shit!" Caretaker could only hiss, while he went down to his knees and turned whumpee on his back. The pulse was steady and strong, but not a muscle moved. Even when caretaker forcefully rubbed his sternum, there was no reaction.

Panic was about to overpower everything else. Caretaker needed to fight against his breath hitching and his heart hammering away like an industrial press.

He wrapped his shirt around whumpee's head and got to his feet again, his friend in a bridal carry. The blue cotton had already turned red and made a fearful contrast to the white face.

. . .

On the way to the hospital caretaker was sure he was having a heart attack any second. Constantly one hand was feeling for whumpee's heartbeat or was held under his nose for the certainty of his friend still breathing. The friend he actually wanted to save himself from doing something so utterly stupid, that he in fact was so desperate to knock him out to stop him. 'Nicely done,...not.' He debated with himself.

The amound of blood still freely seeping through the fabric around whumpee's head was concerning, as was his lifeless form.

Finally, with squeaking wheels he annouced their arrival at the E.R. Caretaker frantically honked the horn a few times, before he jumped out of the driverseat and screamed as loud as his panicked body would let him.

"HELP! PLEASE SOMEONE HELP!"

My whumptember2023 masterlist

[wigglys-dikrats]

someone please tell me to finish one of my goddamn paulkins fics already

[dd-is-my-guiltypleasure]