#touch starved villain

[pendarling]

An Answer To A Problem

They flinched when they touched them. Villain had always looked so stoic and unnerved, but this time, they flinched. 

"Scared of me?" Hero cooed and pressed a hand to their chest, weapon raised to their neck. 

"...Not even for a second." Their eyes subtly dashed between the placement of their hand against their still heaving chest and back down the alley. 

Hero raised a brow at them confidently. Villain was good at lying, but not enough to fool them this time. They pressed them further into the wall, where Villain's constant cocky smile showed up to dismiss any ideas of fear. 

"I had taken you for a tougher criminal than this."

Villain smirked. "Well, let's not assume too much." Their smile wavered briefly as Hero's hand crawled closer to their neck. Villain bit their lip as a sudden burst of thrill came over them, their hands still innocently raised to their head without weapons. 

"And what happened to that playful attitude of yours earlier? What did you say you would do to me, hm?"

Villain shut their eyes regretfully, a wave of heat appearing along their cheeks and down their neck. There was nothing sweeter in this world than getting the opportunity to have Hero's full attention. Their gloved hand clasped onto their chin, smoothing it down as soft eyes gazed at them. 

Hero tilted their head, "You said you were going to pin me up on a wall and what?"

"Alright, alright, you got me..." They took a deep breath as soon as Hero placed the cold edge of the knife on their cheek, forcing their head to turn in their direction. 

Hero tucked one of Villain's loose strands of hair behind their ear, noting their relaxing shoulders. They ran a hand to their cheek, calmly stroking it as they shuddered under their touch. "Well, you've got a nice reaction to me." 

The criminal stayed still, too focused on not giving away their plans. "Hmmm."

Leading a life of crimes had made Villain foreign to the touch of anyone. They couldn't recall the last time they let their guard down, and Hero was a great distraction from their loneliness. 

They leaned in like a puppy leaning closer to its carer. Hero analyzed them for a while longer, enjoying Villain's rare look of helplessness for once. A slanted smile showed up, and Hero unexpectedly stopped. "You're touched-starved." They realized, and their eyes lit up. "I should've known! Is that why you always prefer hand-to-hand combat?"

"What?" Villain snapped out of their haze, their ears burning, "That's not why--"

Hero chuckled and rubbed their hand along their arm, "Yeah, but this gets you dopamine, doesn't it? Wow... a big bad offender like you--"

"Shut up!" They slapped their hand away, embarrassed. What would their comrades think of this? What were they thinking!?

Villain internally berated themselves shamefully. Hero wouldn't be one to put them in front of the entire world for becoming so desperate. Their intentions were generally good, but they had an itching feeling they'd use this against them.

Hero moved away, "I think it's cute you're coming to me for help to relieve your stress." They paused, idling for a second. "Though, I was thinking of other ways." 

They sighed. 

It wasn't like this initially; Villain never realized how horrible it had gotten for them over the following few weeks after joining the Villain's League and cooperating in everything they could. Their focus was solely on every mission, and eventually, by the end of those long nights, Villain was alone again. It wouldn't be wrong to say they found joy in their work because it was a distraction from their aching need to be embraced or even looked at, not with fear but with something else. 

That was until they saw a chance with Hero. They never asked why Villain was so insistent on fighting without weapons. Which was, on their part, their fault for leading Hero to believe they were trying to engage in... seduction. It was a stupid excuse to seek assistance in their search for contact with anything. 

They placed a hand to their face and groaned. "I'm not entertaining this."

"I don't mind," Hero grinned.

"What?"

Hero shrugged, "I don't know, maybe we can find a middle ground for the both of us. I get you all to myself," They bit their lip to stop a laugh, "and I'll satisfy your terrible need to be touched."

"Don't say it like that!" They blushed feverishly again, "I don't need anything! Whatever it is I can just steal it!" They patted their waist and pulled a short knife. Hero swiftly jumped out of their way as Villain rushed them. 

"Wait-- Villain!" Hero dodged a blow from their nemesis and clashed against the tall tin garbage cans. They stood up and blocked a kick. "Are you going to kidnap me!?"

"Oh, don't flatter yourself. I'm only going to kill you."

They laughed shakingly, "So, you're so hopeless that you're willing to kill me, because why? You don't like the thought of me giving anyone else attention?"

Villain grasped onto the short knife and narrowly missed Hero, cutting their suit only from the side. They quickly grabbed Hero by the waist and pulled them back before they could get away. Their back meeting Villain's chest as the blade rested under their chin. Hero gasped. 

"You know what? Maybe I will keep you after all."

The saviour smiled, a rosy colour tinging their cheeks. "Ehe... Well, if you wanted me so bad~..." 

It took a lot of power not to feel numb being so close to Hero and acting as if the tiny space between them left no effect, but it was painfully evident from their rival. They licked their lips knowingly. Their hand sifted through Villain's hair, who stood right behind them, freezing up immediately. 

"I'm not going anywhere, darling. I'm all yours."

Villain hesitated. 

"...Yeah, no, I'm starting to think you want me to kidnap you."

They laughed nervously. Well, it was circumstantial, but they didn't mind.

~~~ MASTERLIST

[arealphrooblem]

Deathtouched Part 2

I had no idea people would like this so much! Thank you guys! Here is part two early because I got inspired!

Warning: this contains serious kissing/making out.

Synopsis: Hero, a person who's power nullifies other powers, is the only person who can touch Villain, a person who kills whatever he touches. When Villain shows up at the Agency hell bent on revenge on Supervillain, Hero is the only one who can stop him.

Part one here:

They kept Villain in one of the interrogation rooms, hands taped into his gloves and shackled behind the chair. A black hood covered his head. Agency took no chances.

Hero sat in the chair across the table from him and waited for him to wake up.

It did not take long. In fact, it did not take as long as the amount of sedative should have given him. The Villain came to with a violent jerk, the chair scraping over the floor.

“It’s okay,” Hero said. “You’re safe. You’re in the Agency’s custody.”

He stilled at the sound of their voice.

“Safe?” he asked, sardonic.

“For now. So long as you answer our questions. And you don’t kill anyone else.”

He pulled at his bonds, cocked his head to the side. “You’ve made that second one exceedingly difficult. But it wouldn’t have worked on you regardless. . . .would it?”

Underneath the cold exterior was a thread of . . . yearning. It had been a calculated risk, kissing him. But if someone had the power to kill everything they touched . . .when could they have ever had anything resembling affection?

“I am a Nullifier,” they explained. “No one’s powers work when I touch them. And what about you? How does your power work?”

“What do I get for answering your questions?”

Hero cleared their throat. “Um . . .you’re not really in a position to negotiate.”

Honestly — neither were they. Hero was not trained for interrogation, but today was a day for firsts.

“Then kill me. I have one purpose left in me, and if I cannot fulfill it, then I have no need of this world. I owe your Agency nothing.”

Hero nibbled on their lower lip as they weighed their options. They didn’t want to see Villain killed. He didn’t attack out of the need for chaos or senseless violence. He had tried valiantly to let Hero, a perceived innocent and weaker party, escape. And the Agency needed to know what kind of heinous actions would fuel a man like this to such single minded revenge.

Taking another calculated risk, Hero stood up and walked around the table to Villain. His head cocked to the side, following the sound of their footsteps. Hero reached out and pulled the black sack off, revealing a mess of dark hair and that fathomless stare of his.

“If you answer my questions . . .I’ll touch you.”

His face spasmed from yearning to guarded in an instant. “ . . . How so?”

This was the gamble. Slowly, so as not to startle him, Hero climbed into his lap, settling hesitantly sideways with their legs dangling over his thighs. One arm looped over his shoulder and gripped the back of the chair for balance.

The other cupped the side of his face. Their thumb brushed back and forth over his cheekbone and his eyes fluttered closed.

“Like this.”

They skated the back of their knuckles down his cheek and then traced their thumb down the sharp line of his jaw. The Villain’s breath stuttered out in a shaky gasp. Hero could feel his chest heave with each breath, like a frightened horse.

“What — what do you want to know?”

Through light caresses and gentle scrapes of fingernails over scalp, a dark, tragic story unfolded. The Agency knew Supervillain had experimented on powered individuals, but they didn’t think any of them had been successful. According to Villain, however, one experiment proved very successful. After multiple agonizing gene therapies, Supervillain had created the ultimate weapon of a human being.

And then he had disappeared, leaving the weapon behind to face a world he no longer belonged in alone.

Of course, Villain didn’t know for years it was because the Agency had finally caught Supervillain and locked him away. Only recently did he learn, through the shattered network Supervillain left behind, what really happened.

It made Hero’s heart ache to hear how young Villain was when the experiments first started. How lost and afraid he had been for so long before it all hardened into cold, calculating rage. How worthless he viewed his own life when compared to his purpose.

It made their touches grow more and more . . .affectionate. They played with his hair, they traced the shape of his ear, his jaw, felt his throat swallow roughly under the pads of their fingers. They smoothed the frown lines of his brow, brushed over the faint traces of freckles on the bridge of his nose, and once, allowed their lips to brush over the thudding pulse of his neck.

That had caused him to choke mid-sentence and Hero had to pull reluctantly away to allow him to continue.

They were the touches of a lover and it felt addictively dangerous, like running your fingers over the flame of a candle. It didn’t help matters how Villain reacted so deeply to every touch — every hitched breath, every flutter of his eyes, every hard swallow only drew Hero more to him. For the first time, they felt like they had power, rather than the void of power.

Finally, Hero had only one question left. They asked it with surprising reluctance.

“What plan did Supervillain have for you when he made you?”

“I’ll tell you,” he said, swallowing, “ . . .if you kiss me. Again.”

Just like last time, Hero did not hesitate. Though this kiss was much sweeter, slower. They cupped his face in both hands, fingertips buried in thick dark hair. Unlike last time, he kissed Hero back with a soft inexperience that made Hero’s pulse thud loud in their ears. They licked into his mouth in short, teasing passes of their tongue until they felt a groan vibrate from his chest to theirs, until the hesitancy of inexperience quickly melted into bold slides of tongue, until —

Until the power shuts down, plunging the windowless room into pitch darkness.

Until gloved hands came from around the chair, cuffs dangling from one wrist, to wrap around Hero in an iron grip.

Part 3 Here

Tagging: @those-damn-snippets @harpy-can-read @puddleslimewrites

[wh3nturtlesfly]

Hey! I recently stumbled upon one of your writings and it was breathtaking, I loved it :] And I was hoping you could write a Hero x Villain but one them has powers similar to a cat or dog and the other would try to pet them a lot or tease them about it, whichever you’d like. (Ex. As in they have the ears and the tail, advanced hearing abilities, fast on their feet. A cat would have retractable claws and dogs would have sharper teeth). Preferably, mlm or wlw if you’re okay with that, just wholesome. If you can’t get to this or don’t have time, that’s fine too.

Thank you for the request, this was a bit of a stretch out of my writing comfort zone but I actually really enjoyed writing this! Great concept!!

“Does it ever hurt?” The words caught Villain mid monologue.

She turned with a brow raised, “Excuse me?”

Hero gazed back at her with pure curiosity, motioning to the tips of Villain’s fingers, “Your claws,” she cocked her head to the side and Villain hated to admit how adorable it looked, “Does it hurt when you make them retract like that?”

The question left Villain speechless. She sputtered as those innocent eyes met her own, patiently awaiting an answer. Unbelievable.

“That’s what you’re worried about? I’m about to destroy this town, you’re completely restrained, no way to stop me- and you want to know about my claws?”

Hero shrugged, almost appearing annoyed that Villain had dodged the question.

“You’re insane.”

“Well, if I’m being honest I was gonna ask about your ears first, but I figured you wouldn’t be as open to answering that. They’re pretty though. I’ve always liked them,” Hero smiled and Villain blushed. Blushed. What was wrong with her?

She wasn’t ready for what came next.

“Could I feel them?”

A No had already prepared itself on Villain’s tongue, her lips pulled deep into a frown, and yet that face bore into her soul. Hero had to know what she was doing. That smile was much too bright to be anything other than a trick, a way to get Villain to put her guard down. She was smarter than this- if anything her claws should be used to shut Hero up right now.

Villain made the mistake of locking eyes with the Hero again and her face grew hot almost immediately. This was nuts. Hero was unthinkable. Maybe that was why Villain couldn’t resist, why she moved before she had the chance to think.

An arm's reach from the Hero she stopped. For now she was untouchable. Hero’s arms still remained pinned to her sides by iron cuffs. Villain’s hand trailed to her pocket, and slowly, she retrieved a key.

Hero was all but beaming as she unlocked the manacles, bouncing up and down like some kind of child. It brought a chuckle to Villain’s lips. She really was an oddity. It was a wonder she had even managed to defeat Villain in previous battles, though it was true that Villain had never seen this side of the Hero before.

Now freed, Hero rubbed her wrists and winced at the red lines that graced her skin. She was silent, looking to Villain for some kind of permission. Villain resisted the urge to roll her eyes and instead leaned forward before she had the chance to rethink her decisions. “Well?” Villain raised a brow, “It’s quite rude to stare you know.”

Hero jumped from her stupor, flushing red. “Oh, I’m sorry! It’s just your eyes, they’re a lot more vibrant up close. It looks good- actually all of you looks good. I- um…it's not, I just-” her hands waved frantically before Hero settled into a soft smile, “You look nice, for a Villain that is.”

“I see.” Villain’s lips had tugged into a smirk. She leaned closer if only to see that dazzling blush spread further across her nemesis’ face. “You have three seconds, don’t press my patience.”

Hero met her with a blank stare for a moment, again tilting her head to the side. Villain almost thought to revoke the offer before realization struck the Hero. She reached forward and Villain had to keep from flinching as gentle fingers settled upon her head. No one had ever touched her ears like this before. Hero stroked them softly, running her nails along the edge and Villain’s eyes slipped shut on instinct. A sigh escaped her lips, and without thinking she leaned into Hero’s touch.

“They’re so soft,” Hero whispered. That was enough to break the Villain from her stupor. She jumped back and hated the way Hero almost looked disappointed.

Her brows narrowed, “Shut up.”

“Why? Are you embarrassed?”

“No- I just,” Villain rubbed her temples and resisted a groan, “We’re done here.”

“Says the one who willingly leaned into the touch.”

“Excuse me?!” Villain whirled around. A smirk painted the Hero’s lips, the awkward manner she had possessed before gone as if it had never existed. Now freed, there was nothing to stop the Hero from advancing forward. She entered the Villain’s space before she had the chance to stop it with that smile that shone brighter than any star.

Hero was careful not to overstep any boundaries. Although she was close- very close for that matter- she did no more than stand. She took in Villain’s shocked expression with deep eyes, “You know, you act embarrassed but I don’t see why. You’re the most stunning person I’ve ever met. I mean it.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.” No hesitation. Hero was playing a dangerous game. Something about her gaze told Villain she knew what she was doing. She didn’t care anymore. It seemed neither of them did.

Without a word, Villain leaned forward again. Hesitant at first, she scanned her nemesis’ eyes for understanding before Hero finally caught on. With a pleased smile, Hero reached forward and touched Villain’s ears just as gently as she had done before. A weight instantly lifted from the Villain’s chest and she too couldn’t keep from smiling. How she had gotten here, she would never be able to explain, and yet then she didn’t feel the need to. No one had ever referred to her- all of her- as beautiful before, much less treated her with such care and tentativeness. As Hero brushed back a strand of her hair, Villain moved close, her lips brushing against the Hero’s ear.

“It doesn’t hurt by the way, the claws. The feeling is more of an itch if anything.”

Hero hummed and Villain didn’t have to look back to picture the smile that graced her features. All too quickly the mission slipped from her thoughts and it remained just the Hero and her. Somehow Villain couldn’t seem to mind.

[thursdays-kid-togobox]

I'm feeling some kind of way, so have a villain who was sneaking around the heros base at the wrong time, ends up in the middle of a battle, and gets hit by a "love potion" type attack. The battle ends, and villain simps hard for the hero.

Warnings: Some language, cringe

--------

Pupils blown wide. Pulse quickening.

"Villain?"

Flushed cheeks. Trembling.

"Villain are you okay?"

Feeling.. passionate. Anxious.

"Hero.." Villain groans and slowly sits up on their knees, not taking their eyes off of Hero.

They're beautiful. Pretty. Lovely. Amazing, in this lighting. It takes Villains breath away.

"You were hit pretty hard Villain. How are you feeling?" Hero kneels in front of them, and gently takes Villain's chin in their hand. Villain's breath hitches. Touch has never felt this good.

"Hero.." they murmur again and melt into Hero's hand. They never want this to end.

Hero tilts Villain's chin from side to side, checking for blood or injury. If they notice a change in Villains behavior, they choose not to mention it. "Do you feel you need medical attention?"

"Just your attention." Villain take Hero's hand and hold it to their chin, staring up at them. Since when did their voice hitch and grow breathy like that?

"...Villain.." Hero fixes them with an odd look. "Villain I don't think you realize what you're doing."

"C-Can you touch my hair? Run your fingers through it. Please" Villain begs and tries to guide hero's other hand to their head. Hero keeps it firmly planted at their side. A whining noise like one a dog would make works it's way out of Villain's throat.

"You've been hit with something. Definitely." Hero observes and slaps Villain's hand away when they try again. They yank their other hand away from Villain's chin, resulting in another whimper and another round of begging.

"But Hero, pleasseeee." Villain fixes them with puppy dog eyes as Hero stands up. They need to get a hold of themselves, this is the bosses enemy they're hopelessly pining after! Hell Hero's their enemy too, they shouldn't-

"Hero? You okay?"

One of Hero's lackey's trotted up to them, looking worse for wear. "Did you get hurt? Sidekick got one of those powder bombs straight to the face. Sustained a nasty gash."

"Are they alright?" Hero inquired, frowning.

"They should be. I got them patched up. No powers! Just a strip of their suit. We didn't have any bandages on hand, and it was mostly clean so..."

"Thank you Other Hero. I think Villain here got a good blast too. Showed up at the wrong time, the unlucky bastard." Hero snorts as Villain slowly gets to their feet.

Other Hero narrows their eyes at Villain. "Unlucky? More like sneaky. Serves 'em right for being here without a warning." They scoff as Villain's knees buckle, sending them falling into Hero.

--------

[the-modern-typewriter]

I’ve not seen any starved touched hero stories so may I request a starved touched hero and the villain finds out and helps them. It’s fine if not:)

"Tell me," the villain murmured, as the hero's breath came out quivering. "When was the last time that someone touched you?"

It wasn't what the hero had expected.

"People touch me all the time."

"Kindly."

"You're not kind."

But the villain's touch was such a gentle thing; the hero's brain refused to register it as cruelty, even as the villain's fingers were curled around their throat. They didn't squeeze though.

The hero should have pulled back already. They should have shoved the villain away. They did none of those things. They leaned limp against the wall, almost hypnotised by the back and forth sweep of the villain's thumb brushing sweetly against their pulse point.

It was pitiful for a nice threat to feel like affection. They were pitiful.

The villain's gaze was intent.

"What are you doing to me?" the hero whispered.

"I'm not doing anything." The villain's powers worked with touch, but they had never touched the hero before. The hero had always been too quick. The villain had managed that time though, advancing, shoving the hero to the wall and then - then this. The villain had touched their skin and then they'd gone perfectly still for a few seconds. The villain could expose all secrets with a press of their fingers, do all manner of things, but...

The hero swallowed, eyeing them. They genuinely didn't think the villain was doing anything.

Each second that ticked by seemed a confession, a betrayal, a plea for something.

The villain's hand slid slowly to to cup the nape of the hero's neck. "You didn't answer my question." The villain pulled the hero a step closer, dragged them flush. The villain's other hand wrapped around the hero's back.

They were being hugged.

A confused, entirely too soft sound left the hero's throat. Questioning. A little choked. It felt like a trap and it felt entirely too desperately lovely.

The villain tightened their grip, tucking the hero's head against their shoulder.

"Skin hunger," the villain said, softly. "Touch starvation. You are a famine, love, I can feel it."

"I-" The hero didn't know how to finish the sentence. The villain was so warm against them, a solid and reassuring presence. That couldn't be right. "What?"

"It has been entirely too long, hasn't it?"

"You're not doing anything?"

"I'm hugging you."

"Your powers-"

"-Mean I know exactly how you are feeling. How much you need this. So are you going to be good and shut up and let yourself have it?"

The hero choked out another gasp of air.

Was that was why the villain had stopped? Why they'd seemed to switch gears so abruptly when they could have finally won? The hero swallowed and shut up, even if it was a bad idea. Inch by inch, when the villain did nothing more but hold them, the hero relaxed. They melted.

"Why are you doing this?" the hero managed, pressing their face against the promise of the villain's shoulder.

"Kindness?"

"You're not kind."

The villain huffed, breath rustling the hero's hair. They pressed a kiss atop the hero's head. "Mm. Temporarily benevolent. No strings attached, pinky promise."

It was definitely suspicious, but it really did feel so unbelievably good. The hero felt like they'd settled into their bones for the first time in years. Maybe longer.

They really couldn't remember the last time someone touched them kindly, for an extended period of time. A brush of accidental touch in a crowd. A hairdresser's clinical contact. None of it was anything like what the villain gave them.

"That's better," the villain said, with a sigh. "Your nerve endings have stopped screaming at me."

"S-sorry. I-"

"It was merely an observation. You don't need to be sorry."

The hero expected the villain to get back to it, or step back. They didn't. It was probably the longest hug in the world.

Finally, the hero let themselves reach out, wrapping their arms around the villain in turn.

"Good," the villain said.

"Are we still...I shouldn't let you touch me. I'm not stupid."

"No."

"Are you going to let go of me?"

"When you actually want me to, sure."

"And you can...feel that?"

"Yes."

The hero squirmed with embarrassment. The villain tightened their grip again. The hero went still.

"Years," the hero whispered, finally. "It's been years. I can't remember the last time."

"Mm." The villain nuzzled into them. "That's not going to happen again. I don't believe in torture."

Neither of them much felt like fighting when they finally broke apart.

[fairsweetlonging]

have been in a qijiu/qiyuan mood lately, and i was thinking about an au where shen yuan, upon transmigrating, actually loses his memories. he wakes up and has no idea who he is, where he is, who the man at his bedside is. not a clue. the only thing he has is his muscle memory, his sharp recognition senses (he's experiencing a lot of déjà-vu), and blurry fractions of memories that he can't quite make out.

thing is, the memories of both shen yuan and shen jiu aren't actually gone, they start to intermingle, to mix up, a little sister in princess pajamas beside an older brother wearing dirty rags, a bright screen that displays mountain peaks and glittering caves. he's kind and generous the way someone who has never had to worry about food or money is, but he gets vicious and defensive when someone gets too close. sometimes he says cruel things and doesn't even understand why himself.

neither identity fits anymore, both names right and wrong at the same time. it's just... shen qingqiu.

and while everyone else might adjust to this just fine, yue qingyuan does not. because that is shen jiu, but it isn't, but it has to be, but not always. he gets flashes of his childhood friend when shen qingqiu gets viciously defensive over nothing, when he scowls and scoffs and rolls his eyes when he thinks people can't see, but then he smiles, and laughs, and tilts his head in a way that is completely foreign. he likes beasts. shen jiu never liked beasts. but he loves tanghulu, like shen jiu. sweet sugary things. the first time xiao jiu cuddles up into his hug, he cries.

the way he sometimes clings to yue qingyuan when he has a bad day can't be him, but then he says "qi-ge" exactly like shen jiu would and damn near snarls at anyone who gets too close, and he's aggressively possessive the way he was when they were kids. but then he pulls away and apologizes, like shen jiu would never do.

and he never demands anything, scrubbed clean from roughness and filth and selfish want, will act perfect and smiling and pleasant, never burdensome. like he's completely forgotten where he came from, what he was. like the pampered nobleman's son who could afford to be kind. the only time his old self comes fully back up is when he feels threatened or scared or angry, like a trauma response that kicks in to protect himself. and then yue qingyuan starts to wonder if maybe it is. maybe the shen jiu he knows was only ever fear and self-preservation, and the one he is now is a shen jiu without the chains and shackles and scars.

yue qingyuan doesn't know if he's happy for him, if it's for better or for worse. he does know that he feels protective and responsible for this new version xiao jiu has become.

meanwhile shen qingqiu, even when he regains enough of his memories to realize he was once a different person, doesn't know who he is anymore. both, maybe. or neither. he feels bad for taking away yue qingyuan's friend, but in his heart he can't help but think qi-ge is his brother, and no one else's. when he manages the peak he feels like he's taking credit for another's accomplishments, but he remembers suffering for it, he remembers what it took to get there.

[kibby-reaper]

yeah

- mod kibby

[sunnynwanda]

Heal me

Warnings: slightly suggestive/ kissing, touch starved Villain, sort of hurt/comfort.

Based on and inspired by this wonderful idea by the amazing @aflyingsheepnamedrose. I had to write this, it was simply eating me alive.

Villain's body hits the wall, sliding down onto the concrete floor with a loud thud. They groan, every limb of theirs aching with dull pain and acute yearning. They cough out blood but cannot stop themself from thinking about the gentle brush of Hero's fingertips against their skin that will follow once the 'battle' is over. They've been deprived of it for far longer than they could handle, their starved body longing for the pain to be followed by a touch.

Hero lands next to them, fisting their shirt to drag them into a standing position. Villain sags against the wall, heaving through every breath. Yet their injuries have positively nothing to do with the dire need flaming in their veins. It's severe, all-consuming, and it terrifies the living light out of them. Villain craves Hero's touch with the entirety of their being. Villain craves Hero. 

"Think you should surrender?" Hero suggests, eyeing Villain with a hint of concern in their bright blue eyes. Their fingers feel almost tender when they curl around Villain's chin, lifting it up so their intent gaze can inspect their buttered face.

"Not yet," Villain gargles, blood filling their mouth again. They turn away, spitting it out before meeting Hero's eyes, a pleasant thrill feeling their lungs at the sight of Hero's distress.

"I won't..." Hero wants to say they won't keep up the vicious cycle they found themselves in. They won't fight Villain anymore - only to spend the following night healing them with their touch. Hero wants Villain to know that they can't keep hurting them, that it tears them apart in ways they never imagined possible, and that it is the reason they've been avoiding them. That they cannot handle witnessing - worse yet, inflicting - their pain. They want to say that Villain doesn't need injuries to have Hero showering them with kisses. They want to tell Villain they need them safe and sound, not beaten and buttered. Hero needs Villain.

But they don't say that. They can't. Instead, they threaten. "Surrender, or I won't heal you anymore."

Villain has to restrain themself from outright begging. They press their lips together, nodding shortly, and avert their eyes, gulping as their mind runs at a hundred miles a minute. Hero's hands let go of their shirt and Villain exhales shakily, shutting their eyes to suppress the shudder raking through their entire being. Something inside them quivers, helpless and desperate. Villain decides to call it disappointment, but then Hero's arms wrap around them, picking them off the ground with close to no effort.

Villain knows it's not disappointment, because the quiver in their chest grows stronger, thrashing against their ribs with unabated persistence. They refuse to open their eyes as Hero carries them all the way to their apartment and straight to their bedroom.

They lay Villain down on their bed and sit beside them, cupping their jaw with a cold hand. "Vil..." Hero's voice is small, and - if Villain didn't know better - they'd think it sounds choked up. "Look at me."

Villain groans, peeling their eyes open. The sight that greets them leaves their heart throbbing in their throat. Hero's eyes are brimming with tears, and their lips are trembling when they lean in, pressing them to Villain's forehead. They pull away, only to plant a kiss on Villain's split eyebrow, then shift to their bruising cheekbone, over to the other one - the small cut on it heals in mere seconds.

Villain watches them with bated breath, biting the inside of their cheek to keep any sounds from escaping them. Hero's hand on their jaw moves, tilting their head up as their lips trail down Villain's neck, ghosting over their collarbones. Villain registers a wet sensation on their skin but fails to process what it is until it drips down the base of their throat, leaving a damp trail in its wake.

Another drop hits Villain's burning skin, then one more. Their nemesis chooses to ignore them as their hands make quick work of Villain's shirt, pushing it open and trailing their lips down Villain's chest, fixing a broken rib back into place.

"Hero?" Villain can't help it when their hands take hold of Hero's head, lifting it off their body. Their tear-stained face wrecks Villain's heart worse than any injury could.

"I can't." Hero mutters in explanation, leaning down to plant another tender kiss onto Villain's feverish skin, their hands gripping their enemy's sides with uncharacteristic urgency. "I can't..."

"Hero, please," the pleading tone of their voice seems to snap Hero out of it as they withdraw hastily, their eyes widening. Villain moves to sit up.

"I'm sorry, I was... t-that was the last cut, y-you're all good now," Hero stutters out, panic contorting their face into a mask of horror. "I didn't mean to overstep."

Villain can't help the chuckle that escapes them at that conclusion. Their fingers brush through Hero's hair, earning a soft sigh from their nemesis. "I wasn't exactly trying to protest the kisses."

"You were not?" Hero repeats, their gaze finally daring to land on Villain as the criminal shakes their head. "I thought you wanted me to stop." Hero confesses, their head dropping, only to be brought back up again.

"No way in hell." The words fly out of their mouth before Villain can process them. They cannot bring themself to care about the consequences at this point. Not when Hero's hands are rubbing their sides unconsciously, not when they can still feel Hero's tears on their skin. "If you ask me, you don't have to stop, ever."

"What?" Hero's gaze darts back and forth between Villain's lips and eyes, wheels turning in their head as Villain watches them with a small smile tugging at the corner of their mouth. They bite their lip to keep their grin under control but fail miserably.

"You heard me," Villain states, causing Hero to roll their eyes. "Why were you crying?"

Hero freezes like a deer in headlights. Villain lets out an amused chuckle, still holding Hero's face in their hands. And, when Hero doesn't respond, Villain decides to take matters into their own hands.

"Can you heal one more cut for me?" They ask, barely containing the cheeky smile threatening to break onto their face any minute now.

Hero nods, their expression shifting into that of worry. "Yes. 'Course I can. Where?"

Villain doesn't utter a word, instead pointing to their bitten lip. They also give up on keeping a neutral expression, allowing the smug smirk to stretch in full glory.

Now that leaves Hero speechless and gaping. For several seconds, they stare at Villain in disbelief, their heart pounding heavily in their ribcage.

"Are you gonna let me bleed o-"

Villain's playful remark is cut short when Hero lunges at them, connecting their lips with more force than Villain anticipated. They fall onto their back, with Hero landing on top of them as they focus on healing Villain's 'dreadful' injury with painstaking dedication.

Masterlist

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[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hi, it’s the touch starved anon again :D Yes, I did mean that one. :D And I did mean it as an ask, but I didn’t clearly express that, so, uh.. apologies..!

It was a truly cruel way of realisation.

The hero watched how the villain’s fingers twisted the fabric of the hero’s suit. Wounded like this, they were easy prey.

But the hero could only think about these two things: the villain’s hand and their safety.

“Are you okay?” the hero asked, breathless. They had managed to pull the villain with them. Away from the fighting, away from the pain and suffering. The villain took in a deep breath but it didn’t sound healthy.

“You’re here,” the villain whispered. There were tears in their eyes, threatening to drop.

“I’m here,” the hero repeated. The villain’s hand found the hero’s and suddenly, a million thoughts ran through the hero’s mind.

They hadn’t expected this to become a problem. A real problem. They hadn’t expected that their own loneliness would get in their way. That they had to fight against it to gain control over themselves.

“Are you alright?” the hero asked again. They could hear shots in the distance where their team was still fighting over territory.

“I’m okay,” the villain replied. Their other hand found the hero’s, too. And the villain looked into their eyes, so tiredly yet softly.

“You scared me. Like, you scared me a lot back there. I thought you were dead.”

“Got betrayed,” the villain said. They leaned against the wall, sitting on the dirty floor in the warehouse. Their face contorted and the hero grit their teeth.“You came.”

The hero watched them quietly. They wanted to help but they had done everything they could. Bandages, painkillers, reassurance.

The villain’s eyes bored into theirs, as if the hero was the only thing between them and death. As if the villain would die if they didn’t look at them.

“Of course I did,” the hero said. “I could sense something was wrong.”

“Lucky me.” The villain smiled softly and the hero wasn’t sure what they were feeling. Their cheeks were warm and their chest didn’t feel tight. They didn’t feel pathetic or weird.

“Just relax. I got you. Our next stop would be the hospital but I like to think that I’m quite good at stitching by now.”

“You’re very beautiful, you know?” Slowly the villain raised their arm and before the hero could realise what happened, the villain’s hand was on their cheek. “I shouldn’t accept your kindness. Nor your mercy. You’re too nice to me.”

“You’re worthy of it, though.” The hero realised they were desperate. Desperate for the touch, desperate for the words. There was comfort, they realised. Comfort in the villain’s presence. More than usual.

“You think so?” The villain moved and immediately moaned. The painkillers hadn’t come through yet.

The hero covered the villain’s hand on their cheek with their own.

“I sent this whole rescue team to get you out. My boss is gonna kick my ass once he finds out.”

The villain laughed.

And then, gently.

“Can I kiss you?” The hero didn’t even have to think about it twice.

“Yes,” they said and before they could get cold feet, the villain pulled them against their chest and kissed the hero softer than should’ve been allowed.

[letters-unsending]

No. 53

////

Villain is either very good or very bad manipulator. Accidental seeking of comfort.

////

Villain pinches the thin neck of his wine glass as he peers over Hero's shoulder.

"I was quite fond of that set," he mused, surveying the wreckage between Hero's palm.

Bits of fine China and glass gleam, their sharp edges catching the chandelier light. Hero holds the last intact piece of glassware, a teacup, with spasming fingers. His wrist jerks and amber beads of tea join the runnels of sweat slipping down Hero's palm.

"You said you wouldn't give me anything that mattered," Hero grits out.

"I lied," Villain reaches, curling his hand over Hero's damp shoulder, "more pressure would have ruined our little lesson and I promised you that we'd start out easy."

The teacup shatters. Fragments fly like spittle and speck the embroidered tablecloth.

Hero palms the table and breathes a shuddering breath, staring as the tea soaks into the fabric, deep orange overtaking paisley print like a bloom of fire. Villain's fingertips hang over his clavicle. Every ragged gasp reminds Hero of Villain's palm perched upon his shoulder, pressing down.

"I can't do this." Hero exclaims, jolting upward. The tile beneath his toes cracks as he wrenches himself free, away from the table and the feast of broken porcelain spread upon it.

Villain's fingers hang in the air before curling around the back of Hero's deserted seat. He turns his head toward Hero, who stands with shoulders hunched and hands fisted at his sides. The sound of his heaving rips through the room before drowning in the thick curtains and glimmering finery fixed upon the walls.

"Why, we've just begun, [Hero]," Villain croons, "and you've been doing splendidly.”

“I never wanted power. I wasn't supposed to have this power.” The gold decor gleams in Hero’s peripherals as he staggers back. “I'm so tired of being careful.”

“Then be careless. Be brutal.” Villain sets down his wine and glides over the crack in the tile. He settles in front of Hero and grabs his tense shoulders, manicured nails biting into muscle, backed for the first time by a measure of superhuman force. “I won't stop you.”

Beneath Villain’s touch, Hero startles, head snapping up. His grip warms his shoulder with pain. The ache rolls down his spine, a nostalgic twinge.

“Did you even want to help me,” Hero asks, settling into Villain’s hold, leaning, “or was this just a ruse?”

Villain almost releases him. His fingers spasm across Hero’s shoulder blade before steadying, singing that constant stripe of pressure into his skin–a force that would've felled any other man.

“Of course, I wanted to help. Your predicament is so similar to my own,” he assures, “it's only natural to sympathize, but control is not your issue. Since gaining your power, your every waking moment has been a practice in control.”

“I have broken everything you’ve given to me,” Hero reaches out and grabs Villain's forearms, applying a reciprocal, biting pressure overtop his satin sleeves, “how could that possibly reflect control?”

As soon as Hero’s palms press in, Villain’s knee jilts forward before steadying again. He takes a long breath under the guise of delivering his next words with trepidation.

“When I first inherited my power, I was like you. I was careful, so very careful, [Hero].” Villain pressed his tongue against the back of his teeth as Hero’s hands slid further down, cupping his elbows. “But the more you care, the more you exhaust yourself. Every delicate thing becomes a burden you must bear simply because of who–what–we are and there comes a point where even the most well-meaning person can not maintain such constant vigilance.”

“I have no other choice. I can't stop caring.” Hero squeezes down, thumb digging against Villain’s bicep. “I'm a Hero now. What if I hurt someone?”

“You can still care when you need to, but you must allow yourself to relax. Indulge in your strength,” Villain glances toward the glittering sea of glass shards, “do not fear it.”

“Okay,” Hero whispered, dropping his hands, “I think I understand.”

Villain slowly withdrew his grasp from Hero’s shoulders, his elbows still pulsing with the press of Hero’s grip, hanging onto the sensation like a physical afterimage.

<><><>

“Go ahead.” Villain breaks the silence as they hover in the doorway.

“Yeah?”

“If you desire it, I understand,” Villain swallows down an anticipatory breath, “you shouldn't have to fear the act of comfort.”

Hero approaches, placing a tentative hand over Villain’s wrist, increasing pressure in increments, testing the strength of the bones beneath. It's a fickle weight compared to before, to those angry fingers digging into his arms. Lightly, Villain breathes through his nose.

“You were so bold before. You didn't hurt me,” Villain keeps his voice instructive, almost monotone, “you need not be concerned now.”

“I'm not concerned,” Hero retorts, sliding his hand up to Villain’s shoulder, “I'm just adjusting.”

Villain closes his eyes, his heartbeat thumping beneath Hero’s palm. He channels his buzzing impatience into impeccable stillness and wishes he'd finished the wine he'd left on his dining table.

And finally, finally Hero pulls him in, hands connecting over his spine.

It's still too light. Hero stalls against him, his shoulders a tense plane.

“Reserve your care for the people who need it.” Villain reaches around, placing a hand over Hero’s back. He feels him breathe against his fingers.

Then there's pressure, sweet pressure around Villain’s ribs, stealing his breath. For a moment, Villain wishes he could bruise, wishes he could prolong this sensation and paint it purple across his skin. He chokes out a cramped breath as Hero’s head turns against his neck.

Immediately, Hero lets up. Villain’s hand keeps him from lurching away.

“No, no, you did not hurt me,” he leads him back in, “I am alright."

Wariness draws Hero’s back into a taut line and Villain sighs, dropping his head against his shoulder.

“It's been a while, hasn't it?”

“I hurt the last person I touched. Broke [Other Hero]’s hand. It was so easy,” he lamented, “I hardly even noticed it happening until it was too late. Forgive me if I'm a bit nervous.”

This time, Villain pulls Hero back and squeezes, pressing his nose against the collar of Hero’s sweater. He runs a hand down his spine, marveling at how nothing breaks, at how Hero unspools and leans into him.

“I'm sorry. I know how hard this can be,” Villain murmurs, though some part of him feels like an open wound in the wind, bleeding and overexposed.

The pressure came again and Villain remembered to breathe as Hero held him. These arms and hands would one day grow stronger. One day, they would bruise Villain, and Villain would be capable of breaking, but by then, Villain would have Hero’s mercy.

He would remember Villain as a guiding hand and source of sympathy.

Villain hoped that was enough.

[kurishiri]

21 . . . alfons main story — blind love

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— cw: wound aggravation and general medical talk.

With the help of Roger and the others, who came running, Alfons was carried back to Crown castle——

And there, Roger started an emergency operation.

That night, which felt extremely long to the point one second felt more like one hour, finally started to melt into the dim morning...

And that was around the time footsteps coming up the staircase resounded to the tall ceiling.

Seeing Roger come out from the basement, I ran to him in haste.

Kate: ...How is Alfons?

Roger: I did what I could.

R: Fortunately, I managed to suture the most vital blood vessels where the bullet penetrated.

Liam: Wait, that’s possible?

Roger: Just as the skin and intestines can, the same goes for blood vessels.

R: ...That said, it’s thanks to the many years of research my father, who’s a town doctor, had put into this.

R: Afterward... I used Elbie’s blood for a blood transfusion, so all we can do now is pray that his blood is compatible.

Kate: Blood transfusion...?

It was the first I heard of many words Roger had used, so it was a bit difficult to understand.

Roger: It’s a method of receiving blood from others, to make up for what was lost.

R: But the rate of success in clinical trials is low, and it’s a risky method.

(It’s risky... then, when he said the only thing we could do is pray his blood is compatible...)

Kate: What would happen, then, if the blood isn’t compatible?

Roger: In the worst case... he dies.

Kate: ——!

Roger: ...But, if we didn’t do it, then Al would have definitely died during the night.

He said that when that much blood was lost, to an extent, surgery and blood transfusions were a gamble.

Roger: Whenever I had the chance, I would draw the blood of Cursed ones here and did some experiments,

R: and from what I observed till now, Elbie’s blood shared the most reactions with Al’s.

R: So that’s why, we bet on him being able to adapt. Sorry about that, Kate, for not explaining to you earlier.

Kate: ...No, it’s fine. I know you were doing what you could.

(Since Roger had been researching the Cursed ones’ abilities for a long time, he was able to dive right into the surgery.)

Kate: So thank you very much. ...I’ll also believe for the best and wait.

Roger: ...Sounds good.

R: If he keeps a pretty lady like you waiting and doesn’t wake up, that would make full-on make him the idiot of the century.

Ever since then, the flow of time seemed more vague.

I could hardly bear even a second away from Alfons’ side as he remained unconscious...

And the only times I left the basement were to eat and take a shower. Other than that, I would spend all my time by his side, where he slept on the bed,

as I was scared that, were I to take my eyes off him, he would suddenly disappear.

(...ngh... h-huh...? Oh no, I fell asleep—)

I was supposed to pass the time at his bedside once again today, praying for the best,

But it seemed that at some point, I fell asleep atop the sheets.

(How is Alfons...)

I propped my body up with a start to check on the sleeping face that had been like that every day for the past few days.

(——W-wait, huh...?)

Kate: ...No way...

For a moment, I couldn’t grasp reality, and my mind went blank.

Alfons’ complexion was far off from a normal sleeping person’s.

It was so pale, it looked as though no blood flowed through there at all.

His lips had also lost all their colors, and they were chapped.

Kate: A-Al... Alfons...?

In a panic, I leaned over him on the bed.

Albeit faint, the movement of his chest even after he had lost consciousness now did not move an inch.

Kate: No... I don’t want this... please, no...

The tears I had always dearly tried to hold back overflowed then, and on an instinct, I held tightly onto his chest.

I held onto a faint thread of hope as I tried to strain my ear for any signs, but I could not hear even a single sign of his heartbeat.

The sweet fragrance Alfons gave off softly wrapped itself around me.

(Not yet... please...)

(I don’t want to ever forget that this scent was your——)

Kate: ...?

When I thought this, the fool called I finally realized something was off.

(Hm...?)

—— Flashback ——

(“To die without leaving his mark on anyone’s memories”——such was Alfons’ tragic fate.)

(When Alfons dies... at that moment...)

(The members of Crown, the friends Alfons would play with, the people in the slums, me, anyone and everyone...)

(...will all end up forgetting about him.)

His name, what he looked like, the scent he gave off... and the fact he even existed in this world altogether.

—— End flashback ——

(Alfons... he looks deceased... but——)

Kate: I... I still——haven’t forgotten... about you...

The moment those words came out in a whisper——

???: ...Dear me, it would seem you’ve come to your senses more quickly than I anticipated.

???: Were it that I could witness more of your grieving and crying... truly, a shame.

Kate: ...——!!

At the voice I’ve grown more than familiar with, blood rushed through my entire body as I stood up with a start.

There, with a smile filled to the brim with genuine mirth was——

Alfons: Well, how was it? My acting as a dead person, that is.

[1] The worst! (+4 / +4)

[2] You’re so mean.

[3] You fiend!

Kate: The worst! The absolute, utter... worst... hic...

Alfons: Well, as I am sure you are more than well aware by now, I am indeed the worst.

A: But even so, you fell in love with me, even for that, did you not?

I wanted nothing more than to give him a slap, if not for the fact that even more tears spilled, so I couldn’t see what was in front of me.

Tears continued to spill one after the other, each teardrop staining Alfons’ shirt more.

Kate: The worst... of the worst... ๐·°(⋟﹏⋞)°·๐!

Alfons: Ouch——won’t you go a tad easier on me, the wounds are stitched there... ow, ow, ow...

I weakly hit his chest with my hand, and while laughing, he slowly sat up.

Kate: Just why... would you do such a thing...

Alfons: .........That is a very good question. Why did I indeed?

A: Say, have you ever thought that there is no bigger mystery to ourselves than our own heart?

Kate: Wh—stop dodging the question! Because I won’t forgive you until you give me an answer!

Alfons: Alright, alright, I understand. You can stop hitting my chest over and over now, yes? I can feel it even with the strength of a kitten.

When I did as he asked, he stroked his fingers gently through my hair, which hung from the nape of my neck, before he let it flow to my shoulders.

Alfons: ...When I awoke, I saw you, face down asleep on the bed,

A: and seeing the back of your neck out so defenseless like that... an impulse tickled me silly, you see.

Kate: Isn’t that a bit too mean for something that was supposed to ‘tickle you silly’ though...!

(Even if you thought about such a thing for a moment, you wouldn’t actually do it!)

(...Under normal circumstances, that is.)

Realizing that the words he said were far from the ones I’d normally hear, I glared at him through teary eyes.

Alfons: My, cut me some slack, why don’t you. Can’t you think of this as my revenge for having lost the bet and let it go?

A: You will become my plaything for life, won’t you?

(T-this man, I swear...)

He was frustrating, infuriating, and annoying to boot.

But——more than that, he filled my heart to the brim with happiness, and...

Kate: That goes without saying...!

I was a mess of tears as I hugged Alfons——

Alfons: ...Hehe, have you the heart to forgive me now then?

(His body, and his life... they are still here in my arms...)

(And the fact Alfons still has a place in my mind too——I’m so happy...)

Kate: ...If you promise me that you’ll take responsibility to the end,

K: and tear my life to bits and pieces, then I’ll forgive you...

Alfons: Ahha! What’s with that condition?

Kate: I don’t know either...

Up until now, the depths of my heart was in despair, but now I felt the happiest I’d been in my life, my heart a mess.

(But, despair, happiness, and everything else——)

(If these scars can be left on this body as memories of Alfons... I want to accept them all.)

(I want all of what’s inside me to be filled with the scars he leaves.)

From now on, and for as long as possible, forevermore.

Alfons: However foolish you may be, I am just as much so.

A: Well, if you say so, it cannot be helped.

A: I will make a mess out of your life, and fill your body with wounds so deep, they can never disappear again.

A: By all means, let me be the one to drive you to insanity… and make you regret it all.

Alfons murmurations sweetly melted.

Kate: Please do...

It was the worst confession of love——but that very one brought me to the peak of happiness.

While seeming fed up with my tears that kept falling, he wiped them with his bare fingers.

Alfons: ...Goodness, to think such awful words could render you a puddle of happy tears...

A: I am more than sure, even if I were to scour the entire world, you would be the only one.

To feel his warmth made me so happy, I rubbed my cheek on his palm.

(I want us to touch each other more... but.)

(First things first, I should have Roger check up on him.)

Kate: ...Wait here a moment, I’ll go get Roger!

Alfons: I would rather do quite literally anything else other than see that man’s face the moment I wake up, thank you very much.

Kate: And now’s not the time for that.

Alfons: Indeed, more than that, since we have decided on loving each other to the fullest now,

A: how about we do pleasurable things?

Kate: W-what in the world are you...!?

Those naughty hands slipped from my back to my waist——

And my body, long used to the pleasure, reacted on its own.

(Wait, I can’t get carried away...)

Kate: N-no, we can’t.

Alfons: But why? And here I thought you no longer needed anything else to blame.

Kate: It’s not that...

K: I-I also want to do it... feeling good with you, that is. ...But——

K: While I no longer need an excuse to do it... I do have a reason not to, so we can’t.

Alfons narrowed his eyes at that, seemingly interested.

Alfons: And what might that reason be, if I may ask?

Kate: Of course, what else could it be but because I hold you dear?

He widened his eyes in response, blinking two or three times.

Kate: You’ve lost a lot of blood, and you just had a big surgery done on you, and you were asleep for some days too.

K: So, until I know for sure that you are alright after being properly examined,

K: Those kinds of things are off limits, for both you... and me.

Alfons’ eyes widened as though he had just been told something ridiculous, before he started giggling.

Kate: W-what is it?

Alfons: Oh, sorry, it’s just... I was just wholeheartedly admiring you for how direct you show your love...

Kate: ...Are you sure you don’t mean ‘making fun’ of me?

Alfons: Aha, out of the box so soon?

As always, my feelings were being played by him like a toy.

(But even so, that’s alright... in the end, that’s what I always think.)

(And somehow... that makes me a bit frustrated...)

At least in a show of resistance, I turned my face away.

Alfons: ...Hehe, are you sulking, by any chance?

Kate: Hardly. Are you sure you’re not being too self-conscious?

Alfons: Goodness, to say such a thing to your lover, my heart might break.

Kate: !? What’s with that, suddenly calling me your lover and whatnot...

Alfons: Why, is this not what a relationship of loving each other to the fullest is called?

(Me, and Alfons...)

Just that one word made me feel as though all my frustrations would be pulled out of me, but I remained obstinate as I kept my head turned away.

Alfons: Are you not taken by it? Now that’s quite a sad thought.

Kate: No, it’s not that! It’s just, now’s not the time to be talking about this...

The body that had wrapped its arms around him was now in his, leaving me with no escape.

Kate: L-let go of me, or I won’t be able to get Roger...

Alfons: Absolutely not. ...Turn toward me, won’t you, Kate?

to be continued…

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꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ tags🏷️ ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ @drachonia @.comment, send an ask off anon, or dm to be added or removed!

[mechanicalpiper]

got the urge to write for the first time in months and pumped this out in like a few hours sooo

cw, kidnapping and kinda suggestive :3

Civilian x Villain Snippet

Civilian was bored.

After slogging through another day of monotonous work and once more coming home to nobody to talk to, they'd decided to take a quick walk in the nearby park to clear their head. Everything had felt the exact same for so very long, months blending together into a bland slop of generic emotions that filled the past years of Civilian's memory- they were begging for absolutely anything to break up the cycle, the same way they had been for years. Even the feeling of the wind gently blowing by and the beautiful view of the moon at this time of night had dulled by now, and-

Civilian’s train of thought was cut off by the long-forgotten feeling of someone grabbing them.

They let out a startled yelp as an arm wrapped around their torso from behind, pinning their arms in place and preventing them from running. In a panic, they tried to yell at their apparent captor, but their protest was stifled before it began by the second arm pressing something over their mouth and nose… something soft with a sickly sweet smell to it. They kicked and squirmed the best they could yet the grip didn't budge in the slightest. They wanted to hold their breath knowing full well what was pressed over their face but they were in too much of a startled panic to control their breathing.

The worst part was the blush.

Their cheeks were absolutely burning. It was such genuine danger, they knew how unbelievably irrational it was to get any enjoyment out of the situation they were in, but despite everything in their head yelling ‘no’ as loud as it could... the feeling of someone else- the feeling of being helpless in someone else's grasp- spiked a bizarre reaction they so badly wished to go away.

It got even worse when their captor spoke.

“Big mistake, honey~”

Civilian recognized the voice. The last person they would've expected: the Villain they see causing so much havoc on the news. The Villain they hear putting craters in cities in the distance during their superpowered scuffles with the Hero.

Why them??

They squirmed more, now knowing full well it was absolutely hopeless- a thought they quickly tried to push out of their mind after feeling their body's reaction to it. They didn’t have the slightest clue what someone so powerful would need any Civilian for, let alone someone like them with no information to give up, right? 

But here they were, helplessly squirming in the Villain's grasp, arms pinned by their sides… cries for help muffled… mind slowly clouding…

a-and it’s…

    so,

         so

            w-warm… 

[arealphrooblem]

Deathtouched

For @heroes-villains-side-blog because I saw your little collection of Villain with Death Touch powers/Hero who is immune fics and got inspired. ^.^

Technically, Hero was not cleared for field work. Sure, they knew some self defense moves in case of emergency. They carried a taser and knew how to shoot a gun with great accuracy. But their power was not an offense-based power and so Hero’s job happened after the villainous defeats at the hands of other Heroes.

Hero was a Nullifier. A touch from them prevented any other Powered individual’s abilities from activating. Their blood was drawn monthly and used in serums given to imprisoned Villains. Sometimes, when a Villain’s power was particularly dangerous, Hero stepped in to bind them or dose them with serum.

But they had never faced a Villain awake and at full power. They never confronted anyone.

Until today.

Villain first appeared on body cam footage, in the middle of a street fight between Superhero and some low level villain grunt. He appeared like a ghost, a shadow figure that materialized from the shadows. In fact, his sudden presence stopped both Superhero and Grunt mid swings.

 Hero had initially rolled their eyes. Villain was tall, dressed in all black, complete with billowing cape and leather gloves. Like a Darth Vader fanboy, but without the mask.

No obvious powers either. No electricity or super speed or invulnerability. Hero wondered if this really was just some glorified cosplayer with a couple of gadgets and no real power to speak of. Just someone desperate for a little notoriety from the body cam footage.

“Who the fuck are you?” the Grunt had demanded.

Villain ignored him and looked straight at Superhero. “I need him. Hand him to me and no one else gets hurt.”

“Why?” Superhero had asked suspiciously. “What do you plan on doing with him?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“I’m afraid, as an Hero of the Agency assigned to this area, it’s every bit my concern.”

As Superhero and Villain faced off, Grunt had tried to slink away. Before Hero could warn Superhero, Villain whirled around and grabbed a handful of Grunt’s jacket and slammed him up against the wall.

“Look, we obviously both have an interest in Grunt,” Superhero had said, approaching the Villain in slow cautious steps. “Why don’t we work together? You could come with me and question him back at the Agency.”

Villain leveraged Grunt against the wall with a forearm to the throat as he worked one of the leather gloves off.

“I don’t want to question him,” he had said before placing a long-fingered, elegant hand against the side of Grunt’s face.

Grunt let out an earsplitting scream of agony that lasted only a few seconds before he slumped over.

Lifeless.

The camera shook as Superhero immediately took several steps backward.

“What did you just do?” he had demanded.

“Walk away and you won’t have to find out,” Villain had warned.

If only Superhero had listened; he would still be alive.

Over the next week, a trail of bodies followed Villain, mostly grunts and spies and brokers for Supervillain. This was clearly a mission of vengeance.

 The Agency had debated on teams to send out, but hesitated to act. Superhero had been one of their strongest agents and he died in seconds at a mere touch. They didn’t want to risk anyone else to fight a Villain they knew nothing about.

And frantic searches revealed nothing about this guy.

Time ran out when Villain himself appeared at the doors of the Agency, like a nightmare come to life. The only person who volunteered to meet him was Hero.

“What is your name and why are you here?”

Hero’s voice didn’t shake, but their hands did. They kept them tightly in their coat pocket, fingers tightly wrapped against the glass syringe.

“I am here for Supervillain,” he said. “And if you let me kill him, no one else needs to die. I’ll even turn myself in.”

Revenge, just as Hero expected. Supervillain, locked away deep, deep, underground, was probably the worst of his kind. The personification of pure self-serving evil. If Hero was head of the Agency, they would roll the red carpet out for this villain to do exactly that.

But that would set up a dangerous precedent.

“I’m sorry. Even if I could take you at your word, I can’t allow you to waltz in and execute a Depowered individual.”

The Villain’s eyes narrowed and he took slow steps forward. Hero took several steps back before they even realized it, until their back pressed against the front door.

The locked front door.

Villain loomed before them, and Hero remembered how much the galaxy had feared Darth Vader, even if he did look ridiculous.

“You are not a fighter,” he murmured. “You have no profile in the Agency.”

 One gloved hand rose slowly to to cup their face. Hero shrunk back on instinct but had no where to go. Their heart thundered in their ears.

“You’re a sacrificial lamb they threw to the wolves while they scramble for an escape.”

He sound almost sorry for Hero, a thread of sincere empathy in his dark velvet voice. It did nothing to quell the choking fear. Villain’s power couldn’t hurt them, no. But a bullet could, or a hand wrapped around their throat, or even a good old fashioned beat down. Villain was much bigger than Hero and there were a thousand ways to die that had nothing to do with powers.

“There is no need for you to die,” he said softly. “Go home. Stay out of my way.”

He took a step back, putting enough distance to allow Hero to follow his orders. A locked door wouldn’t stop him and if he got into the facility he would kill every single person who stood in his way.  

They had one chance to take him out and they had no hope to win a fight. So Hero used their only other advantage — surprise.

Steeling themselves, Hero took two firm steps forward, fisted their fingers in edges of his cape, stood on the tiptoes and kissed Villain square on the mouth.

He flinched back immediately, but Hero kept their grip strong and did not pull away until the Villain’s mouth went slack in shock.

His gaze was a dark, glittering abyss.

“How,” he said hoarsely. “How?”

Hero’s only reply was the sharp jab of the needle into his neck as they plunged the sedative into his system.

Part Two:

[jurassicsickfics]

Touch starved person getting their first hug. The angst would be delicious, especially if they break down, panicking whoever hugged them.

The way I'd love to see this scenario with some of my fave villains

[the-modern-typewriter]

im so obsessed with the touchstarved hero thing that you did ive read it more than 20 times, a very normal amount yes, would you ever think of writing another touchstarved prompt or even a touchstarved villain one? thank you so much for your work

"I don't mind."

"Hm?" The protagonist looked up, brow furrowing.

"I don't mind when you touch me," the villain said. "That is - it's not horrific."

"Well, I'm glad I wasn't horrific. Life goals."

The villain shot them a look.

The protagonist smiled despite themselves. It was too easy to feel lulled, brain at ease for the first time in far too long, buzzing with all the good endorphins. Intimacy. Closeness. It was impossible to dwell on the danger, for as surely as there was attraction, there was danger.

They leaned in, slowly enough to clearly telegraph their intentions, and pressed a kiss to the villain's chest. Half teasing. Half something infinitely more dangerous, like genuine affection for the terrible idea sprawled beneath them.

The villain held their gaze. They almost even smiled back. They tangled their fingers into the protagonist's hair instead, but didn't tug them away. They let the protagonist settle even closer than before, head against their beating chest.

The protagonist was starting to understand that meant something too.

"It's merely that people don't do it very often," the villain said, voice clipped, carefully controlled. "Touch me, I mean. Or when they do, it's with the sort of casual presumption that makes me want to rip their hands off. You do not presume."

"Well, you did look ready to rip my hands off once or twice." They knew what the villain meant though. When the protagonist had touched suddenly, unexpectedly, it had been less about trying to control the villain and more just needing something to hold onto as the villain kissed them stupid. Instinct. Desire. Need. The villain had known that, hadn't they? "But you're welcome. I mean, any time."

The villain nodded. Once. Curt - uncomfortable, perhaps, with such an open and vulnerable emotion. They cleared their throat.

The protagonist felt another stupid swell of warmth. They could hear the villain's heartbeat slowing beneath their ear, trusting, and it felt like yet another giddy thrill for the day. A complicated and tentative privilege.

They lay together, in their stolen moment of illicit peace.

"Besides," the villain broke the silence after a while. "Next time, I can always ziptie your hands to the bed posts."

"Next time?" The protagonist's heart skipped.

The villain shrugged. "You like touching. You'd look adorable begging for it. I think I'd like to see that."

The protagonist was sure they'd gone all wide-eyed again, flushed and flustered, because that time the villain definitely smiled. They hesitated, then tugged the protagonist's hair.

"Come back here so I can kiss you again," the villain said.

The protagonist obliged, even as their brain whirled through all the villain had said.

How long had it been since someone touched the villain like this? Since the villain let themselves be touched? It was clearly something they craved, enjoyed, just as clearly as it was something more complicated than that too.

They stopped thinking as the kiss deepened. They drew themselves a little closer still, ever-mindful of where they put their hands, and only more conscious now because of that of the way the villain's body responded beneath them. The shiver of breath. The thud of their heart. The way the villain pressed in, only to pull back again, like a starved creature that could only sustain itself in small increments before it became too much.

It was intoxicating. It felt just a little like power. A good, perfect, brilliant sort of power.

As they broke apart, the villain studied them for another long moment, expression unreadable, but eyes almost soft.

"Come on," the villain murmured. "Play time's over. Let's go."

[clownprince]

Joker as a character is so funny to me because he tries so hard to be all callous and edgy and scary and make himself out to be this boogeyman of Gotham but like if Batman gave him one (1) single hug or a compliment or like wished him happy birthday or something he'd cry so hard he threw up