Since The Gävlebocken Didn't Survive (bad Luck) Or Get Burned (good Luck), I'm Taking 'eaten By Jackdaws'

I sat in the cool, dark green grass as I listened to the brook beside me bubble and giggle happily. The fae nearby were having a festival that they graciously invited me to. In attempt to be a good guest, I brought some cream, honey, and absolutely nothing with iron. Iron hurts the fae.

They would help me with my garden that I was tasked to take care of. Giving them gifts was the least I could do, especially at their favorite celebration.

The sun started to go down as the festivities started to taper off. Groaning a bit, I got up, found Nightingale (my closest faerie friend) and graciously excused myself out. Today was fun and I cannot wait until tomorrow.

The flowers proudly displayed their colors. From the delicate daisy to the graceful Sakura.

I reached up to a flowering apple tree and with tender love murmured, "Absolutely beautiful, darling."

Tomorrow, I knew the apple tree would give more blossoms. After all, what living thing doesn't want to be praised?

The large firebird screeched as he flew low enough to scorch the lower trees. The troops screamed in terror and abandoned their posts.

"Do you have to do this every time we go to war?" I asked my older twin brother.

"To be fair, what would you do if you saw a phoenix flying right at you?" he returned. He was in control of the phoenix and made sure that no one was too seriously injured.

"Fair enough." I glanced over at him. "I could've sent my Púca after the captain and a few others to scare them off."

He chuckled, "I appreciate the offer but my phoenix is already out there."

"Whatever it takes," I started, watching the forest burn in the night.

"To keep our kingdom safe," my brother finished.

“I thought the goddess of love would look…different.” The wrinkled old woman waved a dismissive hand, leaned closer, and smiled. “You are thinking of my daughter, the goddess of passion and romance. Dearie, I am the goddess of LOVE.”

Happy Easter, everyone!

As we neared the next building in the abandoned town, the highwayman just offered me a hankie.

"Um. Why?" I questioned him as a light flurry fell between us.

"You've sneezed every time we go from direct sunlight," he told me as he looked up to the partially cloudy skies above, "into a building and vice versa."

Why would he care if I sneezed or not? It's just sneezing. Although, I never noticed that I did that before.

"Just get going," he muttered when he caught sight of my expression. But there was something else in his tone. He wasn't angry like I thought he'd be.

"Thank you," I whispered as I took the hankie; processing what I realized.

"You can thank me when we get to where we need to be."

Like he predicted, when we crossed into the threshold of the building, I sneezed.

"No! You let him go, Drosera!" I commanded the larger than usual plant. It was taller than the highwayman and rivaling some trees in height.

"Do you know just how long I've been starving?" The Drosera nymph demanded. "Then, along comes something that I can finally eat."

"You can't eat him! Let him go!" I repeated my demand. My throat hurt like it was roughly rubbed against an oak tree's bark.

"Am I supposed to feel tingley?" the highwayman asked as the Drosera's tentacle wrapped itself tighter around him.

"How much food do you have on you?" I asked my highwayman. How could I let him die when we've gone so far already? But I also didn't know how much food he had stored away. If it isn't a decent amount, then he might starve later.

"Enough to feed this thing," he replied in a vague way. There were seedlings of worry but other than that he was sure in his choice.

"But-"

"Dump the contents out of the side that is furthest from me," he instructed while he gestured to his bag.

As I did what he ordered, I wanted to believe that there was another way. But we hadn't seen any animals since we entered the bog.

"Let him go and I'll give you three pieces," I bartered, moving the three largest pieces forward.

The nymph hesitated. It burned energy it needed to catch him and now I was asking it to burn more.

"How much energy are those worth?" it asked in a cautious tone.

"At least half of what you'd get out of him."

"I'm starting to feel a serious tingle right now and I don't like it," he called.

With great effort, the Drosera let my highwayman go. As I had promised, I gave it the three pieces of meat.

"I still feel a tingle. Is that normal?"

"Go to the creek we saw a few miles back and at least rinse yourself off. The acid is still trying to eat you," I instructed him.

Without a word, he left me with the nymph.

As I walked out under the night sky, I muttered a prayer. It wasn't continuous but mainly when ever I saw something that caught my eye, I'd say a quick little thank you prayer for it being created.

When I'd get back from my walks, I always felt better and ever grateful.

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.

something that i will always remember of technoblade is how he was kind just for the sake of it.

i will remember him claiming the monopoly sound was too loud for him to hear wilbur when he spoke of techno staying up all night to comfort him when he was sick. i will remember him taking the time to add watermarks for his artists when they themselves forgot. i will remember niki and sophie saying how he always somehow made sure they never felt excluded or neglected and how he would hate it, it would embarrass him when they spoke of his kindness publicly. i will remember him personally dming ponk to thank them for sending a 45-minute video of someone feeding hotdogs to raccoons in chat and timestamping his favorite part. i will remember his love for the people who created for him, how he would keep his mentions on for everyone before his fanart tag was formed and would just scroll and scroll to make sure not to miss any art someone made for him. i will remember half his friends and peers having some kind of a story of him reaching out to them during tough days, reassuring them, believing in them, making them feel loved.

i will remember him in every act of kindness i receive and i will remember him during times in my life when i will need to remind myself to be kind despite it all.