A Basic Point Of Solarpunk Is It's Focus On Local Communities. So, Get To Know Your Communities!

hold on a second man…

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.

A small kid ran into my arms, whimpering.

"What's wrong?" I kept my voice gentle and level. There was something that scared the poor kid and he trusted me enough to run to me with that problem.

"I had a nightmare," he answered as he tried buried his face further into armor.

I took the boy's arms off of me long enough for me to sit before he latched on to my neck.

Rubbing his small back, I asked, "Do you want to talk about it?" If he did, that would give me an idea of exactly what nightmare I would be looking for. If he didn't, I would have to try to find the right one and hope that it wasn't a dream that I was going after.

"I don't know," he whined as he clutched me a bit tighter.

I held him so he could look at me as I started, "Do you not know how to word it?"

He nodded.

I let him go as I stood up. "Well, I don't know which one I'm looking for but I'll do my best." I looked down at him, he couldn't be more than four years old. "Would you like to come?"

His eyes grew wide. "Really?"

I didn't try to stop the smile coming on. No matter the age, the reaction was always the same and it was adorable. I only offer if they aren't able to tell me about the nightmare.

"I don't want to hunt the wrong one and you would recognize it," I answered him.

He almost grew a smile but it died to a concerned look. My brows furrowed.

What was wrong?

"Would I be safe?" the little boy asked me in a small voice.

"It could be dangerous but you would be helping me stop a nightmare from terrorizing anyone else." I crouched to his level again. "However, if you want to go home, I won't think any less of you and thank you for bringing this concern to me."

"If I went to my mommy, would you stop the bad dream?"

I smiled. "Pinkie promise."

"I want to go with you. I want no one else to get any more bad dreams," the brave little boy told me.

"Alright," I said standing up before offering my hand to him, "hold on to my hand and stay by my side at all times. Okay?"

He beamed as he took my hand. "Okay."

"Hey, pretty girl, ready to go?" I asked as I rubbed my Púca's ears.

She neighed.

I told her before leaving, "Alright, I'll go and you come find me when you're ready, okay?"

I was just leaving when I felt a light hand on my shoulder. Behind me there was a young lady with black hair, a black dress with red accents, but the thing that stood out the most about her were her brilliant red eyes and horse ears that stuck up out of her hair.

"How do I look?" she asked before giving me a slow twirl.

I took her hands in mine, once she stopped, and kissed her cheek, murmuring, "Beautiful, as always." I unclipped my cloak. "You will need to hide your ears, though." I held my cloak out to her.

"Won't you get cold?" she asked, concern lighting her brilliant eyes. How did I get so lucky to get such a caring Púca such as her?

I smiled, "No, I'll be fine."

Hey eyes flickered between my eyes and the cloak before gingerly taking my offered article of clothing.

When she finally had it adjusted with her ears flat against her head, she asked, "Is this good?"

"You look human." I held my arm out to her. "Ready to go?"

My Púca was literally bouncing as she took my arm. She was beaming and just as giddy as a little kid. I looked forward and guided her out into the bustling streets full of people dressed up as monsters and heroes.

"Hey, pretty girl," I murmured to the Púca I adopted when she was a small filly.

She grunted a quiet greeting before she came up to me. She grabbed a bit of the fabric on my shoulder and gave it a gentle tug.

"How long has it been since I last saw you?"

She whinnied but let go of my shoulder.

"Since yesterday?" I gave a fake frustrated sigh, "That's too long!" I hugged her around her neck. Her fur was coarser than that of other horses and ponies I've met but I wouldn't change anything about her. The other ones are nice but they aren't her.

She nudged me enough to take a small step back, reminding me why I originally came down to visit her.

"Do you want a snack?" I asked her. "Snack?"

She nuzzled me a bit harder.

"Which hand is the snack in?" She was always a smart girl.

She stood there for a moment before nudging my right shoulder. I rolled the apple to my right hand and held it out to her.

"Smart girl," I murmured as she ate the apple. I rubbed her ears just the way she likes it. "I'm going to talk to my big, fat, mean brother to see if I can't bring you into the court so I can give you all the love and rubs you want." I couldn't stop a soft chuckle. "He isn't big, fat, or mean."

The Púca I've known since she was a filly nickered in agreement. She's met my brother and likes him well enough but still doesn't like how he keeps her from me.

"You be nice to him the next time you see him, okay?" I murmured against her forehead.

The tall sprawling; towering bookcases of the library never made me feel confined, trapped like it did with others.

I selected some children's stories, some I'd promised to churches and orphanages while others were meant to be a surprise to the children.

After I got the books I needed and headed outside, I was blinded for a moment before my vision cleared. It was around midday and I knew that I was moving a bit more sluggish than I would've liked.

I shrugged those thoughts aside and made my way to keep the promises I made.

The cracking rumble of thunder mixed with the soft, warm kisses of the rain is a better combination than you might think. I don’t like chasing storms but I appreciate the ones that come through where I live.

I love the majesty of them all, especially thunderstorms. I used to be afraid of them but now, if I let them, they’ll easily put me to sleep.

The only time I am truly afraid of storms is when the clouds touch the ground. I’m protected by hills and mountains so those storms don’t happen too often.

I have wondered if being in the presence of a thunderstorm is like being in the presence of the king? Where some might find him intimidating while for others he’s soothing.

If I got the pleasure of meeting him, I think I would really like him. I’m not saying that only because I’m one of his subjects but also because I think I would be one of the ones that finds comfort in him.

I wonder.

"Toby!" I called out to the celestial minister.

He visibly sighed. "Yes, my king?" I knew he was just tired.

I beamed at him. "I would like for you to follow me."

"Why?"

I slung my arm around his neck. "I have something for you."

He looked at me as he reminded me, "The last time you wanted to do that, you had a constellation there in the flesh and not where it belonged in the sky!"

I rolled my eyes at the memory. "You know that my brother and I see you as family, right?"

"Yeah..." he trailed off.

"I know that you worry about us, too. So," I pulled a small, plain box out of my cloak and handed it to him, "I want to give you peace of mind."

He gingerly opened the box. He pulled out the pin I'd asked an apprentice metal worker to make. It was divided in half, one side a warm yellow and the other a gentle white, and some silver going down between the two.

"What-?"

"If either of us are in trouble, the respective sides will light up. Yellow for my brother and white for me," I explained.

"But... Why?" He looked up at me. "I-I mean, I appreciate the gift but why did you give me a gift?"

"Tommorow is your birthday."

"You aren't planning to do anything stupid, are you?"

I smiled, "I don't want my brothers to worry. So, no, I will stay here."

The constant clatter of swords and the elegant movement always calmed me. The twirl here and a parry there.

The extra weight of the graceful blade felt like it was natural.

But life can't always be this way can it? Somehow, either you or someone else gets hurt. I guess you can only choose your actions and words carefully to minimize the damage.