#homeless whump

[kittykatninja321]

The funniest thing about the fanon whump fics where Tim is getting locked alone in his house with no food by his parents or something is that a lot of the times they have Jason, a character who actually did experience neglect and starvation as a child be like “wow Timmy your childhood is so sad :(“ absvwjsbsa

[mj-iza-writer]

Whumptober Day 11

Seeing Double - Convenience store - Loneliness - "leave no trace behind, like you don't even exist" (Taylor Swift, Illicit Affairs)

"Whumpee, you can't run forever", Whumper, a police officer who picked on homeless people, yelled after them.

Whumpee rounded a corner, 'just a little farther.'

Whumper was catching up as Whumpee started to bang on a familiar door.

"Sanctuary please", Whumpee cried out, near tears, "please."

The door opened just as Whumper grabbed Whumpee from behind.

A figure stood by the door and glared at Whumper.

"How can I be of assistance", the figure stated coldly.

"Go back inside Villain, do not interfere", Whumper stated as they fought with Whumpee.

"I don't take orders from you", Villain crossed their arms, "Whumpee, what's going on?"

"Ow", Whumpee sobbed, and looked back at Whumper.

"You can let them go, they won't run", Villain stated.

"They'll run inside, and you'll slam the door", Whumper glared, "you did that last time."

Whumpee struggled, "I was trying to get food, then he showed up and yelled at me. Then, as I left the store, he started to chase me."

"You were stealing", Whumper stated.

"No, I had money, I kind lady gave me a few bucks, I was going to get food and a drink", Whumpee reached for their pocket, and pulled out some cash.

"I was called by the owner, they said you were being shady. They're tired of your kind stealing from them", Whumper argued.

"I was trying to read the different labels and prices", Whumpee sighed and looked at Villain, "I just wanted food, honest."

Villain's heart sunk when they heard those words.

"Clearly, there has been a misunderstanding", Villain frowned, "they haven't done anything wrong. I suggest you let them go."

Whumper sighed, but relented and released Whumpee.

Whumpee fell forward mid struggle.

"I'll get them. There will be a moment they won't get to you before I get them", Whumper grinned, "I swear it, even if I have to bother hero."

"Hero won't help you. They can't stand you. Hero runs charities for these people you pick at", Villain stated, "that is one thing me and Hero agree on, and I donate often to their organizations."

Whumpee had backed away from Whumper by now and was rubbing the area Whumper had grabbed.

"Whumpee, come inside", Villain ordered, and stepped outside to let Whumpee through the door.

Whumper frowned.

"Get off my property", Villain stated coldly, "you're not needed here."

"I'll get them, I'll get all of them and rid this city of pest", Whumper grinned evilly, and pointed at Whumpee who was only partially visible behind Villain, "and I'll start with that one."

Chills ran down Whumpee's spine.

Villain glared at Whumper, "and I will make sure you pay for it.... get off my property", Villain closed the door.

"I'm sorry Villain", Whumpee shook, "I didn't know what else....", Whumpee wiped their face.

"Hey its okay, as I always say, you are welcome here anytime", Villain led them down the hall, "how about you stay here for a few days, or honestly however long you need and want. I'll take care of you, you know that."

"I know, but I feel like I bother you", Whumpee hugged themself and looked at the ground while they walked, "I don't want to be in the way. I also feel bad for the others in my situation who don't have you to turn to. They have to deal with Whumper, especially if I'm not on the street to keep him off of them."

"As honorable as that sounds, you being a decoy for the others is not a good thing to do", Villain stopped as they had gotten farther into the house part of their headquarters, "there could be a chance you don't make it to me, and that's dangerous for you."

Whumpee nodded knowingly.

"Of course I refuse to tell you what to do as it's your life, but my advice is, stay here. You'll be safe and taken care of", Villain smiled, "you'll be part of my family."

"But what about the others? Whumper will just pick someone else", Whumpee sighed, "they aren't safe."

"That's for us to worry about", Villain grinned, "go into the living room, let's get you some food."

"Okay", Whumpee smiled weakly, "wait, you said us?"

Villain walked away, but pointed at the living room.

Whumpee poked their head into the room.

"Hero?", they gasped.

"Hey Whumpee", Hero laughed with a sheepish grin.

"What? Why are you here?", Whumpee walked farther into the room, "aren't you two enemies."

"Well yes, except for the subject of our troubled citizens. We both work together and try to help all of you as much as we can", Hero sat back, "I'm glad you got away from Whumper, I can't stand him, and I'm working on getting him removed and taken care of."

Villain walked in carrying a plate and cup, "here you go Whumpee.

"Thankyou", Whumpee took the things, and sat down.

Hero and Villain talked about a few more things before looking at Whumpee.

"What was the name of the shop you were at?", Hero frowned.

"Kay's Mini Mart, the convenient store on twelfth", Whumpee looked down, "I never went there before today, and I don't think I'll go back near it."

"I know that place", Hero nodded, "I always thought the owner was nice. I understand they were trying to protect their property, but they didn't give you a fair chance."

Whumpee nodded, "I'm not mad at them, I understand, but not all of us out there.... they just don't understand how the streets are... it's, it's hard. We don't want to steal, that's a last resort for most of us, but we also don't want to starve. It hurts to starve sir. Not everyone has someone to turn to either. We appreciate your shelters, but there's honestly not enough of them, no offence."

Hero nodded, "none taken, and I know. I promise more are coming as I get the funds."

Villain turned to Whumpee, "you would probably know. Where should the next one go, that's why Hero is here. We were talking about this when you knocked", Villain pointed at a map, "this is our city map, everywhere marked has a shelter either from Hero or a different organization."

Whumpee pointed right at a spot with out even thinking, "there", Whumpee sighed, "there is a heavy suicide rate in this area, and there is no hope for anyone there, or so it feels", Whumpee looked at Hero, "everyone in that area is pleading to whoever they believe in for a shelter. It's a tough place though, that's why there isn't one yet."

Hero smiled at Whumpee, "I promise that will change."

Whumpee yawned, then nodded tiredly at Hero, "they will be so happy to have you there."

Villain pulled a blanket from the back of the couch and covered Whumpee.

"I'm sorry, I'm tir....", Whumpee sighed and dozed off.

"I see Whumpee occasionally in the shelter, then they disappear for a while, and I get concerned", Hero looked at Villain, "is this a normal occurrence for them to run right to you like this?"

"A few years ago, I was wandering through town getting a few things. I rounded a corner just in time for Whumpee to run into me" Villain sat back, "I still remember their face, both apologetic and scared."

"What happened?", Hero listened with interest.

"They were new to the streets, and had gotten in a bit of trouble", Villain grinned, "law enforcement had chased them down the street for a few minutes before I showed up. Long story short, I claimed responsibility for them. The officer believed me and let them go with a warning."

Hero glanced over at Whumpee, who was snuggled into the blanket, happily snoring.

"They stay on the streets because of Whumper, they know they can run to me for shelter, and I will put Whumper in his place. Whumpee says it keeps Whumper off of the others", Villain frowned, "they stay here from time to time. They know full well, that day, I did indeed take full responsibility for them. I only wish they would stay here fully so I know they're safe."

Hero smiled, "so Villain does have a soft spot?"

"I always have a soft spot for homeless and struggling people", Villain sighed, "but yes, Whumpee has earned a special place in my heart."

Whumpee opened their eyes a bit later and looked around, Villain had turned on the television and was watching the news.

"Well, sleepyhead finally wakes up", Villain chuckled.

*Yawn*, "H-how long have I been out?", Whumpee looked around, "where's hero."

"You've been sleeping for a few hours", Villain grinned, "Hero had to leave, he had some work to do. He told me to behave tonight so he can do something."

Whumpee grinned.

"So I'm being good", Villain sat back, "he said to watch the news."

They both turned when Hero suddenly appeared on the screen. He was in an interview.

From the news:

Interviewer: "So why did you make this arrest?"

Background video showed Whumper being arrested and led by police and hero.

Hero: "I've been watching this officer, Whumper, for a while now. He has been a big terror to our homeless citizens since he received his badge. I just witnessed him threaten one of their lives. I do not feel safe and trust the safety of all of our citizens to this power hungry individual."

Interviewer: "Speaking of the homeless situation, did we hear you will be starting another shelter in a tough side of town?"

Hero: "Yes, I am very excited to start this one. I hear that this is a bad side of town, and no other shelters have been able to go in there. I hope to change that."

Interviewer: turns to the camera. "Hero is going to need help. Here is a link if you want to donate to his work with the homeless and others struggling. We will report more on Officer Whumper once we have more information. Goodnight."

Whumpee's jaw dropped the moment Whumper was being arrested, then stayed open through the entire interview.

"Well I guess I'm glad I stayed home", Villain chuckled, "I would have missed that, plus, it may not of happened."

Whumpee nodded.

"So with that then, Whumper is hopefully going to prison. Can you please just stay here?", Villain pleaded, "you will not be in my way at all, and I'd be happy if you stayed. I'd know you were safe. You keep giving me gray hair."

"Are you sure you want me to stay here?", Whumpee giggled.

"Yes", Villain groaned dramatically, "yes yes a hundred times yes."

"Okay, I will be happy to stay with you", Whumpee continued to laugh.

"Finally", Villain through their hands up in celebration.

"I have a home", Whumpee whispered as they realized more of what that meant.

"A home. A family", Villain smiled, "I am so happy you finally said yes."

Whumpee smiled, "thankyou so much."

"You're welcome", Villain smiled wider, "thankyou."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@3-2-whump @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe

@whumprince @kaz-of-crows

@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94

@sausages-things @ragin-cajun-fangirl

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald

@jasperthecapser @does-directions

@deafeninglittlecrown @jumpywhumpywriter

[echo-goes-mmm]

So we all the love the whumpee-thinks-caretaker-is-their-new-master trope but what if it's true

Caretaker who did buy whumpee, and who does wholeheartedly believes and acts like whumpee belongs to them

But damn it they take great care of their possessions. After all, cats and dogs get spoiled with treats and comfy beds and vet visits when they're sick and cuddles and a form of love

Why should a slave be any different? Especially because caretaker bought whumpee for companionship

Plus whumpee can tidy up, cook for themselves, hold a conversation, and even play games like cards or board games, and can go everywhere caretaker can

That's infinitely better than a cat or dog.

It's just such a shame their old owner was so terrible. Whumpee is so timid now, and nearly skin and bone. But that's nothing a good owner can't fix, right? The poor thing needs some proper structure and attention that's all. It's a good thing whumpee is human. It would be a lot harder to rehabilitate a rescue who can't comprehend speech.

And whumpee doesn't want to leave. Fetching files from a desk and playing checkers and occasionally cleaning the kitchen while master chatters about work is far better than being locked in a cold basement and getting beaten every day

Their new master doesn't lay a hand on them, their version of punishment is no music while doing chores, or no dessert

After all, you wouldn't hit your dog. Caretaker's new pet deserves at least that

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

Shun the Light - Ch 19 - Belladonna

Masterlist

Author's Notes: This chapter skips around a lot too, but not a ton happens and I didn't want it to become repetitive so I tried to just skip to the juicy parts. Matteo POV!

Content Warnings: werewolf whump, environmental whump, homelessness, painful transformation, poison, illness (fever, nausea, dizziness, stomach ache), angst, loneliness, dehydration, vampire whump, beaten, bruises

----

Feeling healthy and with money in his pocket, Matteo could get far away from here. He could have a plan this time, get off to a better start.

That's not what happens.

Matteo regrets leaving almost immediately. It's abundantly clear now that that was his emotions getting the better of him yet again. If he had waited a day or two he might have thought twice about it.

Now it's too late. Dante didn't stop him. That had to mean something, right? Of the two of them, Dante has been the more honest. If he was okay with Matteo staying, he would have said something...

...right?

In the same train of thought he will go from believing that Dante wanted him gone to remembering how he looked as Matteo walked out. Not upset, just...hollow.

Matteo could tell Dante was lonely, he never had to say it aloud. It was etched onto his face, it echoed through the empty rooms. Loneliness was a weight on Dante's shoulders and any time Matteo managed to lift it a little he felt warm inside. Those felt like the only times he ever did anything right.

And he left.

-

With some of the money from Dante he buys a tent, a sleeping bag, better shoes and a coat. He tucks the rest away for food...and for medicine, if it comes to that.

Matteo lingers in the area. He relocates to a stretch of forest on the other side of town, but still only a few miles away from Dante's home. Part of him secretly hopes they'll run into each other, but it's a longshot. Still, he takes a walk almost every night just in case.

Even with new provisions, returning to his old lifestyle is hard, much harder than it should be after only a couple of months. It isn't just the stiffness from sleeping on the ground, the constant fear he'll be discovered, or always being a little too hot or too cold. It's being utterly alone in the world, with no one who cares if he lives to see the next day or not.

Despair sets in quickly and grows with each passing week.

-

On the night of the full moon he has nowhere to go.

Matteo hides his stuff so at least the wolf doesn't destroy everything he bought. He tries to get to as secluded a spot as he possibly can, going so far as to hide in a cave, though there is nothing stopping the wolf from just leaving.

There he waits.

-

-

-

It's so hot...

The morning is actually quite mild, but Matteo wakes sweltering and parched. He couldn't move if he tried. All he can do is lie on his back and shiver and moan through bouts of dizziness and nausea.

His usual sore limbs and pounding head are drowned out by a sharp ache in his stomach that won't relent. Matteo turns onto his side and curls in on himself, rubbing at his belly to try to soothe it. Only then does he notice there's something wet on his hands.

He finally opens his eyes and looks at his shaking hands, fearing he'll find blood - but the substance is purple and sticky. He takes in his immediate surroundings and spots a bush just feet away with branches torn from it. The ground is scattered with crushed berries.

Matteo groans and presses his face into the cool, dewy grass.

Stupid mutt. Just eats whatever it finds.

Before he knows it he's crying weakly. He's sick and sore, feverish and exhausted. He needs water and medicine, a lukewarm bath, a soft bed...

He sobs harder knowing that just a month ago he had all that and more. Now Matteo would do anything for even a moment with Dante's cool hand on his forehead and his calm voice in his ear.

Crying only makes his head pound harder and his thirst worse. If he doesn't get to water soon he doesn't know if he'll make it through the day.

The journey to where he hid his backpack is a long and arduous one. Every time he tries to stand his head spins and he collapses...so he crawls over the rough terrain on hands and knees. The sharp pangs in his stomach continue, often forcing him to double over and focus on breathing until the worst of it passes.

By the time he reaches his things - which are, to his relief, still there - it is late in the afternoon and Matteo is worn down in every way possible. Panting heavily, he leans against a tree and pulls a large water bottle out of his bag. His hands shake as he uncaps it and lifts it to his mouth. He drinks the whole thing, trickling the last few drops of it over his warm face.

Too weak to set up his tent, he uses his backpack as a pillow and passes out.

-

Two days later Matteo is finally strong enough to stand and walk in short bursts.

Now he has to make a choice: go back to Dante, or actually leave this time.

He can't take another month waiting to be...to be rescued, or whatever it was he thought was going to happen. It's only by sheer luck that he hasn't been discovered yet, and that won't last forever.

But he has nowhere to go that is any safer. Out of hope and with nothing to lose, Matteo decides.

Maybe if I beg. Maybe if I offer him my blood, as much as he wants. I can sleep in the basement and live off of scraps like a fucking animal. I don't care anymore.

Even at his lowest Matteo doesn't believe Dante would make him do that. The worst he can do is turn him away, in which case Matteo is right back where he started. But if there wasn't some small part of him that believed he might be welcome, he wouldn't even try. He has to try.

-

Late that night he is still walking, and still barely halfway there.

Matteo overestimated what his recovering body was ready for. He has to take frequent breaks and quickly goes through his remaining water. His appetite hasn't returned and his fever hasn't broken. At this rate he'll have to rest and restock sooner rather than later, which means another night alone in the forest.

He follows the nearest main road and finds a gas station with a 24/7 convenience store. Despite his haggard appearance the cashier barely acknowledges him. Matteo buys several more waters and some medicine without incident.

A few buildings away the only other open business is a bar. Some cars and motorcycles are parked out front and loud music thrums from its walls. Matteo keeps his head down and keeps his gaze straight ahead, not wanting any trouble.

As he passes, Matteo's attention is drawn to something happening in the darkness to one side of the building where the streetlight doesn't quite reach. His senses are still sharp, and maybe that's how he makes out the sound of muffled grunts over the bar's music.

Matteo cautiously moves closer until he can see a group of figures, four of them standing around a fifth that is crumpled on the ground. They're ruthlessly beating someone, and their victim either can't or won't fight back.

Don't get involved, idiot. You're in no shape for a fight.

Steel-toed boots make contact with the fallen man's ribs and he gives an awful wheezing sound that makes Matteo flinch in sympathy and put a hand to his own side.

"HEY!" he shouts. The four men standing freeze in place. Matteo panics a little but feigns confidence as he adds, "break it up or I'm calling the cops!"

At first they seem to ignore him. One lifts the limp body from the ground and slams it against the wall, leaning in to say something that Matteo doesn't catch.

But then he drops him and motions to his three companions. To Matteo's immense relief they walk away, toward the small gravel parking lot, where they get into a car and speed away.

Matteo cautiously approaches the injured man, who hasn't made an effort to get up.

"You need me to call someone for you?" he asks nervously. He doesn't have a phone, but the bar will.

The slumped figure remains silent. He isn't moving, he isn't even...

"Shit, he's not breathing," Matteo realizes. He throws caution out the window and goes to the man's side. "Hey, are you o...kay..."

Matteo nearly stops breathing himself.

Even bruised he knows that face, those pearl-gray eyes.

"Dante?"

[meraki24601]

Thief Version 2

Whumptober day 24. Remember how I said there was a second version of Thief? Yeah, this is it. This time the prompt is neglect. The set up here is the same, but the rest is different.

-----------*-***-*-----------

Villain glared at the security camera footage. They had watched the hooded figure steal from their store over and over again. Something about them was so familiar. The way they held themselves was drenched in shame, but the determined set of their shoulders struck Villain in a way that held them captive to the screen. 

Beyond the familiarity of the thief, Villain was shocked at the skill with which they stole from the decently guarded store. Villain had opened three stores in town, and the one the thief had chosen was the oldest and least protected. They had taken advantage of every blind spot. There were only about ten seconds of footage of the person. They walked into an aisle and left with arms full of water, crackers, dog food, and a blanket.

The obvious answer was a homeless person trying to survive. That’s what the stolen items suggested. Yet, they had moved so efficiently and skillfully. It seemed almost as if they knew where the cameras were. Their face stayed hidden the entire time.

A phone call startled Villain from their thoughts. The manager assisting Villain with the footage answered, their eyes widening in shock. “The thief is back.” Villain was out the door before the manager had finished talking.

They found the Thief sneaking out of the pet aisle, arms wrapped tightly around a dog bed and a gallon of water. Villain watched as they moved through the store, taking notes of where they dodged out of sight of the cameras. Much to Villain’s surprise, the thief moved through the store quickly despite the limp that seemed even worse. Once again struck by the familiarity of the figure in front of them, Villain followed the figure out of the store and grabbed their arm before they could run as they had before. 

“You chose the wrong store.” Villain tightened their grip on the thief’s arm and dragged them around the side of the building. The hooded figure dropped the supplies in their arms to tear at Villain’s hand. The small gasps and whimpers seeping from the hood as their bad leg gave out made Villain flinch. They had heard that sound before. They knew who it was they held. 

“So the hero has become the thief.” Villain gripped the hood covering Hero’s face and ripped it back so hard it started to tear off the jacket. “Do you know what would happen if word got out you were stealing?”

“Let me go.” Hero’s voice was broken. Their words were strong, but they sounded so defeated. Villain had never seen them so low.

“You claim to be so righteous. You fight against me and my team, but when all is said and done, you’re just like the rest of us.” Villain slammed Hero against the wall of the building. Their hand held them in place at the base of Hero’s throat. “How can you live with yourself? You’ve killed people for doing what you’ve just done. Twice! You’re lower than I could have ever imagined. Pathetic.”

“Let me go.” A tear fell onto Villain’s hand.

“Look at you. You can’t even walk right, can you?” Villain’s lip curled as they pressed harder.

This time, Hero pushed them back. “Because you threw me out a window! I lost everything because of you. Are you happy now? You won, and everyone turned against me. So many people died. First, the Hero Agency refused to give me medical care, then the other heroes threw me out of my home, and now the media has turned against me. I’ll never be able to find a job again. All I have left is my dog, and he’s dying because he was attacked by a pack of street dogs trying to kill me while I slept in an alley.” The fight left Hero’s body, and they collapsed into Villain’s arms. “You win, Villain. I have nothing left. You win.”

Villain nearly fell under the sudden weight. They had heard through the underground that Hero was on a losing streak, but they never suspected it would be this bad. Once they gathered themselves they realized Hero didn’t weigh nearly as much as they used to. The window incident had been nearly a week ago and they hadn’t been this light then. Though, now that Villain thought about it, they had been able to throw their nemesis surprisingly easily. “So you are homeless.” 

“No one wants a hero who can’t save people.” Hero’s tears soaked through the collar of Villain’s shirt. “It was over the moment your bomb went off.” 

Bomb? Villain hadn’t been involved with any incidents involving a bombing for nearly two months. They had uncovered new evidence against the Hero Agency, revealing they had been working with terrorists. They brought in bombers and bad guys to cause problems that the heroes at the agency would then “solve.” Of course, once Villain started working on a plan to reveal the information, a traitor gave them all away. The next day, Villain’s apartment building had been bombed. Hero had attacked them on the roof’s garden, and Villain fought them to keep them away from their base. If they had known about the bombs when Hero first attacked…

“They said I was working with you.” Hero swayed in Villain’s arms, pushing themselves up to look Villain in the eyes, “They said our battles weren’t real. That I was a traitor. When they revealed my identity, I thought you were going to kill me.”

“Hero, they revealed your identity?” How had they not known about this? Sure, they were bad at keeping track of the news, but their sidekicks generally kept them up to date. Villain’s head whipped up, searching the alley and the roofs of the surrounding buildings. If other villains knew who Hero was, they would be hunting them down. Not all villains were trying to change things for good reasons. “When?”

“The day after the bombing.”

“Hero, how are you still alive?”

“Luck, if you can call it that.” Hero shoved Villain away. Their eyes were empty as they stared over Villain’s shoulder. “Are you going to kill me, Villain? I don’t think I’d have the strength to stop you if you tried. Not anymore.” Hero’s eyes darted to Villain’s face, searching for something, “Don’t think I’ve given up being a hero. I will never stop fighting against the people who want to hurt others. Even if it means my life, I won’t let you hurt any of the innocent people in that store.”

When Hero started to stand, using the wall behind them for support, Villain let them. They watched closely as Hero rose to their full height, something they hadn’t seen them do in a while. They had fought three or four times since Villain’s apartment had been destroyed. Villain hadn’t gone easy on them. Even so, after everyone they had relied on turned against them, Hero was still willing to fight if it meant protecting someone else. 

Villain stood, “When was the last time you took a shower, Hero?”

Laughter filled the alley, “Really? That’s the best insult you could come up with?”

“It’s not an insult. It’s a question. When was the last time you showered and ate a full meal? When was the last time you slept without fear?” Villain rested their hand on the wall next to Hero’s head. Standing tall they were nearly a foot taller than the little Hero, and they pressed closer, boxing their nemesis in. 

Hero flinched. They never flinched.

“I didn’t set the bomb, Hero. I wouldn’t blow up my own home.” Villain wrapped their free arm around Hero’s waist as their legs gave out from under them. “The bomb was meant to kill me. It was set by terrorists Hero Agency smuggled into the city.”

Hero cried out as Villain reached to touch a growing red spot on Hero’s side. “I might have given you the limp, but this wasn’t me. Lay down. Let me see.” 

To Villain’s surprise, Hero didn’t struggle as they were laid down and their wounds were revealed. Their eyes were dull and glazed as they stared through Villain. Every so often, their mouth would open and close as if they were trying to speak, but no sound came out. 

Finally, as Villain worked to remove a filthy bandage from Hero’s leg, Hero spoke. Their voice was gravely with unshed tears but strong. “They were trying to get rid of me. I was a scapegoat from the first time they sent me to fight you.” Hero smacked Villain’s hands away and yanked the bandage off themselves. “I have one final request, if I may.”

Villain simply nodded and examined the now bleeding wound.

“Save my dog? You don’t have to keep him. You can take him to the pound or something, but give him a chance to make it out of this? He’s behind the dumpster next to Mckinsey’s Dress Shop.”

Villain nodded again, this time standing and walking back into the store. They made a quick call for someone to collect the dog and bring them a car, then gathered some bandages and slipped back out into the alley. Just as they thought, Hero was right where they had left them.

Eyelids drooping and teeth chattering in the cold air, Hero shuffled back slightly before seeming to recognize Villain. They stood on shaky legs and shifted into a fighting position. “I’m ready. Do me a favor, and don’t hold back. I want my last battle to be what people remember, not my failure in the past.”

Villain didn’t stop their cautious march toward their wounded enemy. One step at a time, they inched closer, giving their man on the roof the signal when they were just about within arm’s reach. The marksman’s aim was true, and Hero would have fallen to their knees if Villain hadn’t caught them. “You can’t die yet, little Hero. You don’t know the whole truth yet. Come. I’m going to take care of you, and you’re going to learn just why it is I fight.”

Version 1

Version 2 Part 2

[0meatloaf0]

Now that the authors have been revealed, I can finally post the art I made for Silver's WLC Multimedia Gift Exchange! Wooo!

This is @chromations 's OC—freshly abandoned and now a homeless teen, succumbing to hypothermia as winter sets in and she lacks adequate shelter. Very cheerful! (Did I get that lore right? :3c)

Maya Klein © chromations: and i feel fear for the very last time.

[actress4him]

Whumptober 2024 - Day 11

Loneliness | “Leave no trace behind, like you don’t even exist”

Contains: generic whumpee, homelessness, isolation

They moved through the city like a phantom, haunting the alleys and back doorsteps where few others ever ventured. Sweeping in and out of an area like a whisper of wind, finding what they needed and moving on before they could be noticed.

No one had noticed them in a while. And that was okay, that was their plan. Being invisible was safe. It meant that they hadn’t talked to another living soul in so long that they weren’t sure they remembered what it was like, but it also meant that no one could hurt them.

They were a ghost. Ghosts didn’t have friends. No one but the brick walls and dumpsters knew they even existed anymore, and they wouldn’t share the secret with anyone else.

It was better that way. 

[angelxd-3303]

While on the run how would mario take care of a sick luigi? (I see it was mentioned in the fic so I'm curious)

Soft jazz played from a phonograph as Pauline patted her damp hair with a towel. She hummed along with the melody as she wandered into the kitchen. A tea kettle whistled on the stove, and she pulled it off the burner. Pouring the scalding water into her teacup, Pauline let out a small hum at a knock on the door. Setting the towel on the counter, she frowned. Glancing up at the clock, Pauline was confused.

It was 9:30 at night, who on earth could be at the door? Another knock, this one sounding more frantic. Pauline adjusted her fuzzy robe, rushing to the door. As she opened it, an inquiry died on her tongue as she laid eyes on her visitor.

Wide blue eyes set into a tired face brought her back to what had happened a few days ago. The homeless boy, Mario, was it? He stood on her doorstep, shaking in the cold. Seeing what was cradled in his arms, Pauline didn't think it was the cold alone that made him tremble. The little boy, Luigi, was nestled in Mario's arms, small body shaking. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Pauline finally found her words.

"Oh, goodness!" She exclaimed, reaching out and grasping Mario's shoulder. The teen locked up, still fearful, but Pauline gently ushered him in. Once inside, Pauline took a closer look at Luigi. Upon closer inspection, he appeared to be sick. His face was flushed, and every breath was labored and raspy. Mario himself seemed to be gasping, he was probably catching whatever Luigi had. 

Cooing softly, Pauline carefully took Luigi from Mario. The older boy seemed vacant, numbed by fear and illness. Pauline pulled off the tattered jackets the boys wore, hanging them up in the mudroom. At her encouragement, Mario pulled off his shoes, and Pauline shushed Luigi's whines as she did the same for him. Holding him in one arm, and wrapping the other around Mario, Pauline herded the older boy into the living room. She gestured to the couch, but Mario hesitated.

"Don't…don't wanna get it dirty…" He mumbled weakly. Pauline sighed, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

"It can be cleaned, sweetheart. Lay down, it's ok." At her reassurances, Mario let out one more shudder before plopping down on the couch. Pauline placed Luigi in his arms, smiling as Mario laid down with a relieved sigh. As he cuddled Luigi closer, Pauline grabbed a blanket from her recliner and tucked the boys in.

She rushed back to the kitchen, going through her medicine cabinet. Tomorrow, she could see how Mario felt, and hopefully get both boys a warm bath. Tomorrow, she could try to get them to eat something, she still had cans of soup in the pantry. For now?

Check their temperature, make sure they're comfortable. Maybe some tea would help their throats? As Pauline scurried around getting everything she needed, her eyes landed on the news article she'd seen before. Should she call someone? On the other hand, if she did Mario might take Luigi and leave. She shook her head, questions for tomorrow.

Pauline found them in the same exact place as before when she reentered. The exhaustion in Mario's eyes almost made Pauline tear up, but she pushed down the lump in her throat. Setting down two cups of tea and a bowl with cool water, she knelt down in front of the couch and cupped Luigi's face gently. He whined, and she shushed him quietly.

"It's ok, baby, you're ok." She assured, carefully coaxing a thermometer into his mouth. waiting a few seconds, she pulled it out. Grimacing at the high temperature, she cooed sympathetically as Luigi sobbed weakly. She wet a washcloth with the cold water and folded it before laying it on his forehead. Luigi moaned in response, clamping a hand over the cloth to press it closer. Pauline cleaned off the thermometer, moving to check Mario. The older teen flinched, glaring at her distrustfully. 

"I need to check you too, sweetheart. It's ok, you're safe here." Mario studied her for a moment, again reminding her of a stray cat. Poor thing, who hurt these sweet little ones?!

"You tell anyone we're here, we're leaving." He declared. Pauline sighed, nodding.

"I understand. Please let me help." At this, Mario relaxed just a little bit. He let her check his temperature, which wasn't much better than that of his brother. She wet a washcloth for him, and smiled softly at the sigh of relief. Mario's tired eyes fluttered shut, and soon the older brother was taken by sleep. It didn't take long for Luigi to fall asleep as well, and Pauline was left sitting on the floor beside the boys. 

Sighing deeply, the woman looked them over. Luigi had a deep cut over his nose, and Mario had one on his cheek. What happened to them? How did they get hurt? 

And most importantly, how could she help?

[gottawhump]

Strays

Carlisle

CW/TW: BBU/WRU, homelessness, institutionalized slavery, pet whump, food insecurity/starvation/hunger.

“No, Carlisle. We don’t take home strays.”

“But, Mom!” He turns his head up at her, trying his best wide-eyed wanting. “Please!”

He’s been feeding the Pet in the alley for the last two weeks, bringing him sandwiches, cookies, and juice whenever he can. At first, the Pet hid from him and only took the food after Carlisle left. Now he takes the food from his hands, his own often shaking, and thanks him with grateful downcast eyes.

Pets need homes. The boy knows this. He’s seen commercials by WRU, and read stories about the travails of lost Pets eventually reunited with their families. The Pets in his own home have told him how happy they are there, how frightened they’d be without a home to shelter them and owners to guide them.

This one is scared and hungry and hurt, and the boy wants to help.

“Please, Mom?”

She sighs. The Pet cringes and tries to make himself look smaller. “Show me your wrists.”

The stray Pet obeys, turning his wrists upward, showing the barcode. His mother takes out her phone and snaps a picture of it. “I’m sorry, Carlisle. We don’t need another Platonic.”

Her tone doesn’t allow further argument, or he would point out how many things they have that they don’t need, but they want.

Dejected, he goes home with his mother.

The next time he visits the alley, the Pet is gone.

“My son wants to adopt a Pet,” she says a few weeks later, at the shelter. “Domestic or Platonic, and a healthy one.”

Carlisle peeks through the doors separating the Guard Dogs and the Romantics, fascinated. They have more visible scars than the others, and he wonders how they got them.

But he turns back to look at the selection the shelter attendant led them to. All of them kneel, and smile, and their eyes flick from him to his mother and back again. They’re afraid, too. Of the shelter? It frightens him too, with its concrete floors and fenced kennels. Or of him and his mother?

Don’t they know he just wants to give them a safe home?

He wants to take them all home, but he can only choose one.

He chooses the thinnest, the most frightened, with a scar cut across his face. His mother frowns, but allows it.

When they are home, and alone, he asks the new Pet, “What’s your name?”

It’s years later, and his parents have died, leaving him the only heir to the Black fortune. He asks the cook to pack him a basket of lunch things.

He goes back to the alley.

He takes out a sandwich and a bottle of water. He sits down on the ground, not caring about the dirt and grease getting on his tailored clothes. He holds out the food and drink, waiting.

There’s a new stray in the alley, a girl with tangled hair and not enough clothes. Romantic, he suspects. She hasn’t come close enough yet for him to see her barcode. Maybe today she will.

She peers out at him from behind a garbage can. She will run if he approaches her, so he just sits, holding still, holding out the food. Come on, he thinks, it’s for you.

He will leave it for her if she doesn’t come out.

It’s a lot like catching a stray cat, he knows. You have to earn their trust, in small, steady ways. But it’s harder, too.

She finally comes out and approaches him. She reaches for the food, then stops herself. She drops to her knees, in the graceful sensual way of the Romantics, and holds out her own hands. Now they are on an equal level, and he puts the food and water into her hands.

Softly, he says, “My name is Carlisle. What’s yours?”

Tagging @painful-pooch @justplainwhump @redwingedwhump @maracujatangerine

[painful-pooch]

*tackles*

Hiiiii my love! There are several things I’d love to see, not sure if I’m supposed to request more than one but I’ll give you my top choices and you can do what you want from there!

1. Bb Cass being his cinnamon roll self, I don’t know enough of the plot to request something super specific but maybe just him struggling on the streets?

2. I’m curious about Chevy, I know you say he’s a lot but if you feel like unleashing him a little bit go for it!

3. She’s not on the list but I will always take a Brumaria snippet hehe. Maybe some married couple fluff or Kane whump or angsty teenagers! Whatever au speaks to you atm

You definitely can! I am gonna do one post at a time just to not keep them long! So atm, it's Cas, then I plan for Whumper!Chevy, and then for Brumaria Fluff because it's so cute!!!!! I hope this makes you happy!

CW: homeless whumpee, hunger pangs, the beast, implied murder/violence

~~~

It's been days since Cassiel has been able to find food, and his stomach roars so hard, he partially wonders if it's the Beast in there. He hasn't heard it in a while, and is glad to not have to deal with the dark voice that curses him at almost all hours of the day, but it does haunt him at night. It's almost like… He gets hungrier because he's going out and doing things, but that's not possible, because he's asleep in the same spot each night. "Bah, yer just goin' crazy, wee fool," he mutters to himself playfully, limping through alleys and following the colors of various sounds he has figured out tie to things related to restaurants and places that serve food.

He can't travel around on the street front or the police will arrest him for being a Shifter, and he can't go back there. Not again… His hand goes over his face, the scar that permanently tied him to Officer Rowan, the one tasked to bring him down and study him, train him to be docile, and deem him worthy to society. His stomach clenches so hard, the man falls to his hands and knees, whimpering from the weakness in his body now, his head pounding. He crawls next to a small alcove by a spigot and catches some of the water, drinking it and thanking his Mum for the small blessing, but it's not enough.

He forces a smile and curls up on the cold asphalt, feeling his body wanting to catch some rest. "M-Maybe de world wasn't ready yet for a guy like me, eh?" He asks himself, when a voice snarls in the back of his mind in answer.

"I always have to do everything. I'll get you food, you miserable host of a demon."

Cas' eyes widen for a brief moment. "W-wait, don't hurt anyone."

Laughter. "Like you have the strength to fight me, boy. Face it. You give in now, or you die. What's your choice?"

The poor lad feels his lips tremble, the walls around the alcove closing in. "No m-more blood. Pancakes?"

"Hmmm. I'll see what I can do. Now… Where were we?"

[lili-loves-whump]

part three the difference plssssss im too emotionally attached

Ig so lol i like this series too

lili-loves-whump presents:

The Difference Pt. 3

1, 2

“What happened next?” Sidekick asked excitedly. They were lounging on the carpet in pjs, with a blanket thrown across them. 

Hero smiled softly, looking off towards the window. The sun was setting, turning red. They swept a strand of hair out of their eyes and pursed their lips. 

“Well, Sidekick,” they started, “like most, this is a story of tragedy, and death. Are you sure?”

Confusion clouded Sidekick’s eyes, but they nodded all the same. Hero smiled and took a deep breath. This part of the story was always the worst, they thought. 

“Well, the little kid left. They didn’t even sleep, just jumped out the window and ran into the night. There was a car, a red one, that swerved to miss them, but the kid couldn’t tell. They’d already caused the Villain pain- just like everyone else in their life. So they did the one thing they knew how to do. Run.

The kid ran, and ran, and ran. Through valleys and under trees. It was near morning by the time they stopped moving, choosing to collapse in a cornfield instead of continuing the steady walk-jog they’d kept through the late hours. 

It was hot, and the sun was up, high in the sky. The kid was hungry, pushing sticky strands off his forehead, glistening with half-dried sweat. Everytime they thought of their rumbling stomach, they remembered the cautious kindness of the Villain and teared up. So they ignored their need for food and decided to doze in the corn field.

When Villain woke up, they turned the house upside down looking for their missing child. The living room was destroyed before they remembered the night before.

When they did, they screamed. 

Why did you let the child go, they yelled at themselves, you should have made them stay, you sick son of a bitch. 

But the kid didn’t think of it like that- they thought they were sparing the Villain more pain. So they trudged on, tired from the heat, stomach growling under the hunger, through the corn field, towards the city border. 

They thought, if I can just get to the border, it’ll be fine, I can run away and never see Villain again. 

Their feet hurt, blistering from the walk. They’d shedded their shirt long ago, but when night arrived, they began to regret it. Cool breezes swept through the corn, and something croaked and rattled. 

Meanwhile, Villain knew that the child was gone, and began to cry again. They felt like they were overreacting, as the child was just a stranger. 

But the child was a child.

So, against everything, they went out looking. Scouring the city in the middle of the afternoon wasn’t ideal, but the kid had about 16 hours of a head start. They started towards the border instinctively, desperate to bring the kid home.”

[just-here-for-the-whump]

@whumpcember Day 31: Homeless - 90210 3x5 Catch Me If You Cannon

[warmblanketwhump]

Hello! I have a winter whump idea and I wonder if you like it.

Here it goes: Whumpee is a homeless cinnamon roll, and caretaker is their only friend that would help them. And, one harsh winter, whumpee got terribly ill, and caretaker decided to sneak them into their home to take care of poor them. But caretaker's family would not allow a diseased homeless person inside their house. So, caretaker had to keep whumpee hidden, and can only go to visit and take care of them when no one are watching. And whumpee,despite being sick, had to stay as quiet as possible so that no one find them.

Bonus: If the caretaker's family eventually got moved by their relationship, and allowed whumpee to stay till they recover.

Bonus bonus: if the caretakers family eventually even took whumpee in because they are such a cinnamon roll and they surly inseperatable with caretaker.

oooh this is a very interesting idea!!! Love the progression of caretaker’s family initially being reluctant, but eventually warming up to the idea of whumpee being a part of their family 🥹

this actually lowkey reminds me of a book I read as a kid that was mildly whumpy called Stepping on Cracks - basically, a character’s brother was trying to avoid the WWII draft so they were hiding out in the woods in the winter, and they ended up getting super sick with pneumonia and the character’s semi-enemy ended up helping them get to a doctor (this character also got beat up at some point??? this book was A Lot 😅)

anyways, thanks for sharing!!!! this idea is great!!!

[meraki24601]

I’m once again coming back for an ask! 🥰 if you’d like the idea would you write more smt abt Poor Hero x Rich Villain? (Whump hurt/comfort).

Maybe a mistreated Poor Hero who has to steal since their company is not doing them justice and are punished for it and Villain is all there for them to find why Hero is out stealthy stealing from grocery stores while limping? Maybe Hero does it again, even tho they know the consequences (It could be for their own food or better for someone else or maybe their companion animal that they can’t let it starve).

Adapt it the way you want 🫶🏻 If it sounds boring don’t worry abt it~~~ always a fan of your writings 🫶🏻✨

Welcome back, Friend! Sorry for the delay, I already had a few other things lined up for Whumptober, but I thought your prompt fit well for day 22! Prompt: “Watch out!”

(Also this is actually my second go at this. I felt like this version fit your prompt better, but I'll probably post the other version later!)

Thief

-----------*-***-*-----------

Villain glared at the security camera footage. They had watched the hooded figure steal from their store over and over again. Something about them was so familiar. The way they held themselves was drenched in shame, but the determined set of their shoulders struck Villain in a way that held them captive to the screen. 

Beyond the familiarity of the thief, Villain was shocked at the skill with which they stole from the decently guarded store. Villain had opened three stores in town, and the one the thief had chosen was the oldest and least protected. They had taken advantage of every blind spot. There were only about ten seconds of footage of the person. They walked into an aisle and left the store with arms full of water, crackers, canned food, and a blanket.

The obvious answer was a homeless person trying to survive. That’s what the stolen items suggested. Yet, they had moved so efficiently and skillfully. It seemed almost as if they knew where the cameras were. Their face stayed hidden the entire time.

A phone call startled Villain from their thoughts. The manager assisting Villain with the footage answered, their eyes widening in shock. “The thief is back.” Villain was out the door before the manager had finished talking.

They found the Thief sneaking out of the pet aisle, arms wrapped tightly around a sleeping bag and a gallon of water. Villain watched as they moved through the store, taking notes of where they dodged out of sight of the cameras. Much to Villain’s surprise, the thief moved through the store quickly despite the limp that seemed even worse. Once again struck by the familiarity of the figure in front of them, Villain followed the figure out of the store and grabbed their arm before they could run as they had before. 

“You chose the wrong store.” Villain tightened their grip on the thief’s arm and dragged them around the side of the building. The hooded figure dropped the supplies in their arms to tear at Villain’s hand. The small gasps and whimpers seeping from the hood as their bad leg gave out made Villain flinch. They had heard that sound before. They knew who it was they held. 

“So the hero has become the thief.” Villain gripped the hood covering Hero’s face and ripped it back so hard it started to tear off the jacket. “This is where you’ve been for the past two months? Do you know what would happen if word got out you were stealing?”

“Let me go.” Hero’s voice was broken. Their words were strong, but they sounded so defeated. Villain had never seen them so low.

“You claim to be so righteous. Teaching people to fight despite the challenges. People look up to you. I look up to you. You fight against me and my team, but when all is said and done, you’re just like the rest of us.” Villain slammed Hero against the wall of the building. Their hand held them in place at the base of Hero’s throat. “How can you live with yourself? You’ve killed people for doing what you’ve just done. Twice! You’re lower than I could have ever imagined. Pathetic.”

“Let me go.” A tear fell onto Villain’s hand.

“Look at you. You can’t even walk right, can you? I thought you were different. I thought you were the one who would save everyone. Maybe even me.” Villain’s lip curled as they pressed harder.

“I said, get your hands off me!” This time, Hero pushed Villain back. “You don’t get to touch me. Not after what you’ve done to me. Not anymore.”

“What I’ve done? You just tried to rob me!” 

“I didn’t know this was your store, okay?”

“That’s not the point, Hero. That’s not what I want to know.”

“That’s all you need to know!” Hero’s chest heaved as they yelled loud enough to make Villain’s ears ring. “I didn’t know this was your store, or I wouldn’t have come here. Now, get out of my way.”

Fire bubbled in Villain’s belly. No one talked to them like that. Especially not Hero. They weren’t the kind of person to talk to anyone with such spite. Especially after all they had been through together. It was one of the parts of them that had grabbed Villain’s attention from the very beginning. Something was very wrong. “You will not steal from me or anyone else again.”

Hero laughed. It was a short, incredulous laugh tinged with pain as they limped back a couple steps toward the end of the alley, spreading their arms wide, “Yes, Master. I only live to follow your orders. What are you going to do about it? Call the cops? I’m a hero. I can do whatever I want.” Hero kept walking, their eyes glued on Villain.

Villain was livid. As Hero stumbled over a piece of trash littering the sidewalk, they couldn’t help but think of the person they knew before. The one who pulled their punches because they knew Villain was trying to change. The one who held Villain as they listened to Villain sob about the things Supervillain had done to them. The lover who had kissed their scars so carefully on those lonely nights when they had nothing but each other to make it worth living to tomorrow.

They couldn’t see that person anymore. As Villain looked into Hero’s eyes, all they could see was anger and fear. 

Fear. That… didn’t seem right. Even in their fiercest battles, when Hero was bloody and beaten, Villain had never seen Hero look at them with fear. As Hero continued blindly back out of the alley and into the road, their attention was locked on Villain. That was when Villain knew something was truly wrong. Hero didn’t notice anything else around them. Not even the car speeding toward them. 

“Watch out!” Villain cried, grabbing the front of Hero’s shirt and yanking them into their arms and out of danger. 

For a moment, Hero watched the car that didn’t even slow down drive off into the distance. With no warning, Hero collapsed into a sobbing heap in Villain’s arms. Through the tears, they begged, “I’m sorry. Please, just let me go. Don’t hurt me. Let me go, please, I can’t take any more.”

Scooping Hero into their arms, Villain slipped back into the alley. The sudden change in Hero was not a good sign. “Hush now, Hero. It’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you.” Villain was concerned about how little effort it took to carry Hero. And, now they were close enough to see, Hero’s hair was greasy, and their clothes were covered in specks of dirt and old dried blood. It confirmed everything they had suspected before. “You’re homeless, aren’t you?”

“They framed me.” Voice barely above a whisper, Hero buried their face in Villain’s neck. “Hero Agency set me up. They black-listed me at every apartment building, hiring job, and homeless shelter. I didn’t even know homeless shelters could deny people.”

Villain was horrified, “Your sister. What happened to your sister?”

“She’s on the streets with me. I finally got our Aunt to agree to take her in if I can get her there, but she won’t have me. No one will.” 

Setting Hero down on a wooden crate, Villain knelt at Hero’s feet. “Where is she now? Is she safe?”

“For now. Please, I’ve been gone far longer than I should have. Don’t turn me in. Let me go back to her. At least until I can get her to our Aunt’s.”

“You were limping before, and there’s blood on your clothes. Can I see your injuries?” 

“There’s no point.”

“Of course there is. I want to help you.”

“No one can help me. No one wants a worthless Hero. If I only learned one thing over the past two months, it's that.”

Villain rose on their knees and cupped Hero’s face in their hands. Slowly and clearly, making sure Hero’s eyes were on them, Villain sighed, “I want you, Hero. I will always want you.”

Hero jerked to their feet. They swayed as they limped a few steps away, leaning heavily against the wall. “Your lies are beautiful, but a lie is still a lie.” 

It was clear Hero was on the edge of running, so Villain stayed where they were. “It’s not a lie, Hero. I want you. Even when no one else will have you. I want to take care of you and your sister. Please, come sit down. Let me be your home, your safe place. Your lover and friend and protector.”

Hero didn’t make it back to the crate before their leg gave out again, but they came back. Villain caught their Hero and held them tight, unconcerned about the tears staining their shirt. As Hero tilted their head up to meet Villain in a hopeful kiss, Villain knew that everything would be alright.

Version 2

[rainswhenyourehere]

⋆ welcome home ⋆

characters ☆ basically everyone pairings ☆ lams, hamliza

tws ☆ minor & major character deaths, implied passive suicidal ideation, alex's past

whumpcember day 31. homeless scheduled post; i'm on a trip so i'll add + post the ao3 chapter once i get back

fic under cut

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Alexander had never had a lasting home.

Sure, he had had houses to live in, places to stay at, but a home, a safe haven, a comfort place?

His home had been ripped away from him the moment his father had left – but even then, Alexander had learned to adjust. Learned to take over some of his father’s chores, learned to act mature, to help his mother. For a while, he dared to say that he had gotten his home back, the days with his mother and Jamie calm and peaceful.

That was, until the fever had hit. Chills had racked his body, nausea tearing through. Even later in his life he had been prone to fevers – an effect of the sickness he had experienced earlier in his life, Ned had suspected.

However, his mother had had it worse. Even in his delirious state, Alexander had seen the way the sickness destroyed her, taking something every day. Her smile, her voice, the glow in her eyes.

And then, in the end, her heartbeat.

Alexander had gotten better, but inside, he had wished he was dead. Perhaps that had been the moment when he had started imagining death, over and over again until it felt more like a memory.

Home had become an absurd concept as he went on with his days, doing his best to earn some money. Years had passed by, but what he hadn’t realized was that deep inside his heart, he had started to call the town home.

Hadn’t realized until that had been washed away from him too.

He had been utterly and completely alone, his cousin’s suicide haunting his thoughts. Jamie had run away to god knows where, clearly too burdened to continue caring about him. Alexander, devastated, had looked around at the houses destroyed by the storm, at the lives taken, at the trees fallen, and had done the only thing he knew how to do.

He had picked up a pen, grabbed a piece of paper, and started to pour his thoughts out, word after word flowing from his quill as he described his despair, the scene around him, the hopelessness the island felt.

Little had he known, the hopelessness would soon turn into hope as the people dug out their purses, collecting the little money they had, only to donate it to him. At first, Alexander had been reluctant – after all, everyone had so little –, but had soon realized the opportunities the mainland held for him.

And so, he had gone.

Gone, only to be found. He still remembered that night. Him, John, Laf, Herc, drunk, singing, happy, but most importantly, at home. That feeling had only grown stronger as he had joined Washington’s army, become aide-de-camp for him.

And when Eliza had stepped into his life, that had opened a whole new world for him, a place where he could sit with Peggy for hours, a place where he could joke around with Angelica, and a place where he could confide in Eliza, open up his heart without the fear of being judged.

War had had its challenges - of course it had - but he had felt understood, had felt like himself. Perhaps it didn’t always feel like home, but it had been comfortable for sure. Especially the shared nights with John, whispers filling the air as they stroked each others’ hair, giggled secrets between soft kisses.

They had won the war. It had felt like a miracle, a dream come true as Alexander had gone back to his law studies, taking cases with Burr, taking care of Philip. Oh, Philip, his son, his sun. His smile had been so sweet, so breathtaking.

It had all been the calm before the storm. The letter had arrived in the afternoon, and Alexander had stored it away to read before going to sleep. He had assumed it was a letter from John, most likely to inform Alexander about how his battles had went.

It hadn’t been.

He had dismissed Eliza’s worried gaze, had retreated to his office, buried himself in paperwork. Everything was just as it was before, apart from the hole in his heart that kept tearing him apart bit by bit, gnawing at him from inside.

It had all went downhill from there, Alexander supposed. Jefferson had come back from France, bringing nothing but trouble and headaches, accompanied by sleepless nights and dangerous amounts of coffee. His fevers had grown worse year by year, but he had also gotten better at hiding them year by year.

He had just gotten over one of those fevers when Maria Reynolds had walked into his life, dress red, lips red, scared, helpless. Alexander had seen the fear in her eyes, and a voice in him had urged him to give her a home, a place of trust. Therefore, despite the acknowledgement that this was horribly wrong, he let her into his life. Looking back now, perhaps he had been seeking something too.

During the days spent with Maria, he had been able to forget his own worries, had been able to forget John. Before the letter, anyways.

He had stored the letter away, hidden it under all his documents, had given James Reynolds what he had wanted, yet still Reynolds had accused him of embezzling government funds. Everyone had claimed that it was the end of his career, that there was no way he was going to write his way out of this.

So he had proven them wrong. But again, perhaps that had been the wrong thing to do.

Eliza had left him, Angelica had left him. So he had spent the nights in his office, hunched over the letters and the documents. Fevers had racked his body, yet there had been no warmth in his life.

He had never felt so homeless.

Washington’s letter had arrived. His hands had shaked as his eyes had scanned over the words, tears swelling up, blurring the world. It had been like a punch to the gut as another piece of his heart was crushed.

Yet nothing could’ve prepared him for what the universe had had in store for him.

The worst part was that he could’ve stopped it. Could’ve told Philip to apologize verbally, to give up on the duel, could’ve forbidden him from going. But he hadn’t. Instead, he had handed Philip his guns, told him to make him proud, had sent him off to his doom.

Alexander’s shallow breaths had continued, but Philip’s had ceased.

He hadn’t cried. Emptiness had filled him, his chest had screamed in pain, it had been like someone was ripping his heart apart. It seemed like everything he touched - everyone he loved would turn to dust, crumble under his affectionate gaze.

Still, he couldn’t bring himself to push Eliza away. After a week of wandering alone, he had started joining Eliza on her walks, talking to himself.

Then, one night, standing in the garden, surrounded by nothing else than the occasional call of a bird, she had taken his hand, had squeezed it in familiar reassurance.

Alexander had shattered, sobs tearing through his body as the stress and grief building up inside him had finally been let out, the too-full jar overflowing. Eliza hadn’t spoken, had only held him as all of his floodgates opened at once.

It had been easier to have Eliza back, but it didn’t fix the holes inside him, didn’t cure him of his depressive episodes or his yearly sicknesses, didn’t stop Burr from challenging him. It was something Alexander had said, according to Burr, but Alexander wasn’t sure what. He had said a lot of things about the other, after all.

Alexander’s hand had been surprisingly steady as he had written the last lines of his letter to Eliza, signing it with muscle memory before storing it in an envelope. He had taken one last look at his wife, one last look at his children before grabbing his pistols.

Now, with Burr facing him, the hesitation in Alexander turned to determination. They turned, counted to ten, and Alexander spun around, aimed his pistol at the sky.

He heard the gunshot, felt it soon afterwards as it entered his ribs, knocking him backwards. Pain blinded him, but he felt oddly calm.

Voices, footsteps. Alexander couldn’t feel his legs.

Rushing, shouting. Alexander talked.

Crying, screaming. Alexander’s head turned. Eliza. A shaky sigh escaped his lips as he pressed a kiss to that hand - for the last time, perhaps.

All the noises faded. Alexander blinked slowly, his words ceasing as he catched a glimpse of the other side.

Washington, his mother, Philip, John. John.

A smile formed on his face as he closed his eyes, drifting away.

At last, he was home.

[deadwhisper]

"I cannot do it"

*why?"

"Because I'm so tired my darling" I sighs whilst leaning back into the wall, it's surface feels cold and solid on my aching back and providing a sort of stability I have been missing quite a lot in the last few days to be honest. "I'm too exhausted to even lift a finger" I try to explain.

"B..but you promised! You promised to help me once your work was over!"

All but in vain. I sigh again and look at them. I take in their wild eyes that desparately rake over my face in search of misplaced humor but unable to find any. His arms bunch up by his side and fury rages inbetween the wrinkles of his forehead.

"You promised!" He screams again, like a toddler stomping his foot to get his point across, as if I don't understand the severity of his situation. I scoff and a flash of surprise passes briefly over his face.

"I did nothing of that sort if you truly remember love, I said I'll look into the matter once I sort my shit out and now that I have I would very well like to go home and rest" sans the fact that I actually do not have a place to call home but oh well, new day new challenges, it'll all sort out one way or the other.

Hopefully.

~ @deadwhisper