Hi, I Love Your Writing!! Could I Request A Stoic, Oblivious Right Hand X A Flirty, Frustrated Villain/Supervillain?

hi, i love your writing!! could i request a stoic, oblivious Right Hand x a flirty, frustrated Villain/Supervillain? thank you! <3

Request #28

This one was fun, hehe...

"Looks like you and me are going on a little trip together, Right Hand," the villain purred, one hand trailing across their subordinate's shoulders as the other finished typing up their notes. "A nice vacation - just you, and me..."

"A mission," the right hand corrected.

The villain's left eye twitched. "Well, yes," they conceded. "But that doesn't mean you and I can't do a little sightseeing now, does it?"

They sat down upon the table their henchman was working at, delighting when the other's gaze turned up to look at them. For all of about one second.

"What would you like to see? If you tell me now I can book it all in advance."

Always so work orientated...It drove the villain mad beyond belief: how - how? - could a person possibly be so oblivious? They'd been hitting on the right hand for months and all the other ever did was warp their teasing words into a literal work task. The villain was going to do something rash soon. They could feel it; feel the itching need to just take matters into their own hands bubbling up within them by the second. The villain wasn't sure whether they'd kiss them or punch them but those were certainly the highest probabilities right now.

"Well, what would you like to see?" the villain questioned back. "We are going together after all."

The henchman paused, opening up a new tab on their laptop. "Are you asking for recommendations?"

The villain squinted down at them. "Sure. I guess..."

"The top result seems to be the Sagrada Familia which, of course, is pretty obvious. There's also--"

"No, I didn't ask what some stupid guide said to see: what do you want to see?"

The right hand shrugged. "It isn't my concern. My main focus will be the mission."

"This will happen after the mission," the villain said. "I want us to spend some time alone. Together."

They didn't think they could lay it on any thicker. Still, the henchman had the audacity to raise a brow at them.

"Like a team building exercise--?"

"NO!" the villain cried in an outburst. "Not like a team building exercise!"

The other blinked up at them at that, mildly startled. "Then what--?"

"Together, Right Hand," the villain repeated. "You and me, together."

Surely they'd understand now.

The right hand studied them for a long while, expression scrunching up slightly as they contemplated it. "If you're trying to repay me for the London fiasco, it isn't necessary. I was simply doing my job--"

"WHAT ABOUT THIS WORD DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND?" The villain had reached their breaking point. They were practically seeing red, hands curling into fists at their side. "TOGETHER, HENCHMAN. TOGETHER, TOGETHER, TOGETHER. LIKE - LIKE A...LIKE A...GAHH!"

They threw the other's laptop across the room and pulled them in by the collar of their shirt - the chair the other had been sat upon wheeling them forward with the force until they were situated perfectly between the villain's legs. The right hand blinked at the motion, staring up at them with wide eyes whilst the villain glared down, pinning their subordinate in place with a single look before finally yanking them up higher to smash their lips together.

It was the most satisfying action the villain had ever taken.

The henchman made a sound they'd never heard before: a small, startled thing in a far higher pitch than the villain knew them capable of. Their mouth opened in surprise and the villain took immediate advantage of it, sliding their tongue in passed the right hand's lips with a fierce determination and delighting in the way the other fumbled for a moment before holding onto their waist. The villain smiled and pulled them closer still, their one hand tangling into the henchman's hair whilst the other captured their chin, moving them until they got the exact angle that they wanted and keeping them that way.

Once they were satisfied, the villain pulled back with a smirk. Their right hand panted beneath them, face flushed a bright red as they turned to look up at them - the villain tightening the grip on their hair and adoring the shudder it invoked.

"Do you understand now?" they asked.

The henchman nodded.

"Good." Their thumb brushed over the other's lips, breath ghosting across their blushing cheeks. "Answer my question then: what would you like to see?"

For a second there was silence, the right hand swallowing before they made their response.

"P-Park Güell looks nice," they suggested. "A-And I know it's th-the, um, obvious choice b-but the Sagrada Familia really is beautiful - I-I like art so..."

From stoic to a stuttering mess. The villain liked this sudden change of tune.

"Sounds nice," they said. They leaned in to give the henchman one final kiss, nipping at their lower lip before pulling away entirely. "Book it. I want the itinerary on my desk by the end of the day, is that clear?"

"Y-Yes, Villain."

They dropped down from the table and moved away, turning back just before they left through the door. "Oh, and Right Hand?"

"Yes?"

The henchman seemed practically rooted to the spot, the shock of the moment still holding them captive.

"If I catch you being that oblivious again, you can expect far worse than a kiss," they warned. And then they waited. Waited the ten whole seconds it took the right hand to realise exactly what they meant, their blush turning an even darker shade of red once they did.

The villain was looking forward to this trip greatly...

A lot of pop psychology gets thrown around and since I already have a headache, here's preventing you lot from making it worse.

Love-bombing: A manipulation tactic of increasing affection and grand gestures before or after doing something abusive, specifically to weasel one's way out of consequences.

What it is not: A streak of affection and generosity towards friends/loved ones.

Trauma-bonding: Knowingly traumatizing someone to take advantage of their vulnerable state, to then act like the "hero" or the one who cheers them up.

What it is not: Bonding over similar traumas.

Gaslighting: *Knowingly* convincing someone they cannot trust their own perception of a situation in pursuit of one's own narrative.

What it is not: Misaligned perception of events.

Narcissist: Someone afflicted with Narcissistic Personality Disorder, a traumagenic cluster B disorder, that struggles with self-obsession, paranoia, craving validity from the public, delusions of grandeur, and social disconnection.

It is not: Your rubbish ex that cheated on you.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

-Xanthe

This is lirjvijIVKWVKWEDSVJKlvk

I love it when a villain's behavior starts to soften cutely in their intimidating look.

I love the prompt, the characters, and the aggressive kissing. Like danm assistant you can give a straight answer, but ain't it so entertaining for us.

Ok, so since my first response to this post kinda went its own direction, I decided to give this prompt a second try. The prompt is originally by @gingerly-writing (I will write it in purple to separate it from the rest of the text).

"Oh," said the supervillain. Quietly. Too quietly. "I see. Kissing me was just a distraction."

"No! Well, yes, but...it's not like that!"

"Oh? So explain how it is. Quickly."

"Well...you see..." The supervillain's assistant fumbled for the right words. Which proved rather difficult when there seemed to be no right words to come by. How did one even begin to explain this dangerous, messy, swell of feeling expanding in their chest right now? A feeling that they still weren't sure should be encouraged or stamped out.

They'd never thought so much of themselves to imagine a relationship with the city's greatest criminal. They had been perfectly content standing on the sidelines, taking notes and fetching coffee with cream. They probably would have kept doing such, an important but unnoticed cog that kept their superior's life going smoothly. That is if it weren't for their stupid, idiot, ditz of a brother.

Their sibling had never been the brightest, sacrificing their own needs for others and putting silly morals ahead of good sense. Unlike the protagonist, who knew when to bluff and when to sell out, their brother was always so desperate to be right. As if there was even a true right in this crooked world.

And of course, they just had to go into hero work. Just had to go up against their boss of all people and put the protagonist's neck on the line. It wasn't like they were going to let the supervillain see them. Thinking back, there were probably a thousand less compromising things the assistant could have done for a distraction. Maybe that was a sign they'd been interested long before that messy, tooth-clashing first kiss. Could they sell that to the supervillain?

"Well...I did enjoy it."

The supervillain sighed, raising a crooked finger to the ever-present guards against the back wall.

"W-wait!" the protagonist cried. "I lied one time! One! As if you've never done the same!"

"My lies usually don't include so much tongue."

Their assistant blushed. "I was going for alluring. If it helps, the second kiss was more my style."

A sweet, soft thing that tasted of vanilla creamer, so much sweeter because it was alone and after hours. A coffee order that usually wouldn't have happened if the supervillain hadn't been intent on getting them on their own.

"A half-truth meant to appease me," the supervillain said with bitter-tipped nonchalance.

Maybe. The protagonist had walked into that trap willingly to keep up the pretenses of the first kiss, but they'd never planned any further than that. They certainly hadn't planned on the supervillain's clumsy small talk, or the way they held them so gently. Criminal overlords weren't supposed to be like that, were they? They were supposed to beat nobodies like them senseless for their audacity. Or use them up until they were a hollowed husk of their old self. They weren't supposed to be...cute.

"But still true," the protagonist argued. "I didn't know you would actually start to like me."

Not just cute. Soft. It was apparent within the first month that they were far more vulnerable then their villainous persona let on. 

Were they hurting a lot right now? Did the protagonist actually mean that much to them? Or was it simply the humiliation of having an employee play their feelings so effortlessly for an advantage? Had to be hard to face up to with the entire organization staring at them. They'd probably have to deal their assistant an especially hard hand to patch all the open wounds in their reputation.

"I was just trying to save someone close to me," the protagonist said, not certain whether the explanation made the situation any better. "After that, I was just trying to survive.''

"The hero."

Ah, so they did know. Probably shouldn't be a surprise seeing how they'd come to the truth in some way or another. The tone was a little strange though. They weren't quite certain whether it was jealousy or general disdain.

"How--"

"Security cameras," Supervillain said coldly. "You might have kept me from seeing them with my own eyes, but you didn't keep them off film. I didn't notice for a while; I was...otherwise diverted, but yesterday... But perhaps that was your plan all along."

The assistant couldn't hold back their scoff. "You really think I'm the type of person who can cling onto someone for literal months to hide a little recording?"

"Well, I think we've established that we don't really know each other. Apparently, you think I'm the type of person who wouldn't have taken a simple, 'I'm not interested' for an answer. You could have done it right at the start. You still would have been caught, but you would have benefited from me not feeling like this."

"How do you feel?"

Stupid. Stupid. Was that really important when the protagonist was simply trying to walk out of here alive? Why should they even care? Like the supervillain said, it wasn't like any of it was real enough to stake feelings on anyway.

They felt the the two suited security guards hovering at their back, looming and dicomfortingly close. They had paused uncertainly as the back-and-forth got started, maybe not quite sure if the signal to take the assistant away still stood. Now, finally, the supervillain gave them an unquestionably clear order.

"Go." Their voice dripped with a venom not intended for them. "I'll call if I need you."

The guards seemed almost relieved to comply, letting out held breaths and moving quickly but crisply toward the exit. 

For some reason, as the door clacked gently shut behind them, the assistant felt more nervous. Especially with the criminal's eyes burning into them like hot coals.

“You want to know how I feel?” the supervillain said.

The protagonist shifted uncomfortably. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me…”

"I'm angry.”

"Understandable." The assistant flinched back a step from the furvor, though it proved pointless as the supervillain mirrored their retreat with a stalking step forward.

"And confused." 

"Of course."

"I want to tear my heart out of my chest. And yours."

The assistant blinked. That was...a reaction.

They tried shoving down some the sharp regret stabbing up through lungs, making it suddenly painful and hard to breath. So the supervillain had liked them that much. That was sort of a shame. Under other circumstances perhaps...well, it didn't matter now. They'd messed it all up. Actually, they hadn’t even really began. So they really shouldn’tbe worrying about the supervillain, they should just be worrying about themself.

"I don't know if I'm worth all that. We could just end this like two mature adults, starting with you letting me out of the building."

The supervillain narrowed their eyes. "You still haven't said it."

"What?" 

"I don't know why I expected any different. You always give me everything but a clear answer."

"I wasn't aware you asked me a question?" the assistant said, glancing over their shoulder and estimating just how quickly they could make a run for the door. 

The supervillain stepped forward, bringing their shiny black Derbys toe to toe with the assistant's ragged loafers. Nimble fingers took them by the chin, turning their face from escape to their burning carbon eyes. "Do you like me or not?"

The assistant could only stare.

"You say it was just one lie, and the way you talk doesn't close any doors, but then there's your hero and the infuriating fact that you can't come up with an ardent, overdramatic speech to salvage the relationship. I can't figure you out. Do you want out or not?"

"Wait..." the assistant held up their hands in front of them. "Wait, wait, wait. Are you not trying to kill me?"

The supervillain spluttered incredulously. "Kill you?"

"What?" the assistant cried, thoroughly confused by this point. What were the security guards and the ominous call to their office in the middle of the workday if it wasn't their life on the line?

"We kissed! I still have feelings for you! I can't kill you now. Maybe later up the road, but not anytime soon."

"You’re throwing me in secret prison then?"

"I'm only firing you."

"Oh." The protagonist took that in for a moment. "I suppose that's fair."

"Yes. The question that remains is do we continue seeing each other after I fire you? So please be explicitly clear. You like me. Yes or no?"

The protagonist hesitated, wetting their lips a moment before hesitantly wrapping their arm's around the supervillain's neck. "I thought that much was obvious."

"Clearer."

The protagonist pressed their lips softly to the supervillain's mouth.

"Clearer," the supervillain murmured, breath tickling sweet against their lips.

"I like you an extremely dangerous amount. To a point I'm afraid to say out loud. If you never say it, it never happened, right?"

The supervillain sighed. "You're the most infuriating, noncommittal... Your hero?"

"My brother."

"Your..." A burst of spontaneous laughter escaped the master criminal's previously tight lips. "I think that's the best news I've heard all day. Well, aside from that first bit."

Their hands settled warm and familiar against the small of the assistant's back, holding them firmly, yet carefully in place. 

Was it really over that fast? Could ugly, terrifying things like this actually happen and turn out ok? Hero would probably say yes. They believed in forgiveness and conquering love and all that nonsense. That wasn't what the protagonist chose when they joined this side. They chose cold, hard truth.

They pressed their palms against the supervillain's shoulders, pushing slightly back from them. "I hurt you."

It wasn't a real question, but nevertheless, the supervillain seemed to understand.

"And I'm still mad. Doesn't mean I can't enjoy the moment." Their smile faltered and their voice quieted again. "You...are telling the truth, right? Honestly?"

The protagonist's insides twisted uncomfortably, a mixture of guilt and aversion to such unfamiliar openness.

"Yes."

The supervillain nodded, enfolding them back in their arms. "I might check in with you every once in a while. Just to be sure.” 

“Yeah,” they agreed, still dazed. They pressed their face into the criminal’s shirt, breathing in the scent of fresh linen to assure themselves this was all real. “You’re really letting this go? How can you do that? How are you ever going to trust me again?”

Supervillain kissed the top of their head, a little more aggressively than normal, but still probably kinder than they deserved. “With time.”

Maybe in time they could learn to trust too.

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer @blood-enthusiast @randomfixation @alexkolax @pksnowie @blessupblessup @wolfeyedwitch @thedeepvoidinmyheart @cornflower-cowboy

...This was so lovely, iv read this all in scholjrwejgvjkewjbkirehjsbxiuhjertjksgnvfjkfadnvcjk entrcxbj,x w4jtd,bmyhb

I wouldve skippe dmy math test just to read this, it was so lovely

Sweet Dreams Epilogue

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine

...

"I brought donut holes," Henchman said, thrusting out the Tupperware as soon as Villain opened the door.

Villain blinked at them, and for a flushed moment, Henchman wondered if they'd just ruined everything. Was it irrational? Yes. But was their heart also on the verge of pounding out of their chest? Also yes.

A sly grin crept up Villain's jaw. "It's nice to see you too."

Henchman blushed harder, but as they started to pull the container back, Villain caught it. Callused fingers brushed cocoa-stained knuckles and suddenly all Henchman could focus on were those shiny beetle eyes picking apart their soul.

"H-hi," they said lamely. It was the only amends they could think to make after not giving a proper greeting, but as soon as it was out of their mouth, they wished the ceiling would come down and bury them.

Villain's grin only grew wider. "Hi. Want to come in?"

They nodded, and Villain caught their arm in a tight, yet surprisingly careful grip. Henchman stared around at the massive apartment, all shiny and warm bathed in a dim orange glow. Was that mood lighting? Or was that truly as bright as the lights went? They couldn't imagine that being the case; it'd get annoying after a while. So did that mean Villain planned this because they were coming over? Because they actually liked--

Villain's hand left their arm.

Henchman blinked dazedly. They'd been so focused on their own thoughts they hadn't even noticed that they'd entered a new room. They were suddenly sitting on, quite possibly, the plushiest couch in the world, the soft brown cushions like quicksand, practically dragging them into deep, fuzzy relaxation.

"Are these homemade?" Villain asked, plopping down beside them and snuggling comfortably into their side.

Henchman barely stopped from flinching. Even being here was baffling and amazing, but this was almost more than they could take. That feeling of Villain's warmth against their own, the brush of breath on their neck, the comfortable solidness of weight on their shoulder.

"Um, is that ok?" they asked. Maybe they would have preferred something from a bakery.

"Of course, my dream."

This time Henchman did flinch. Villain was close enough that they probably felt the muscles leap because they tilted their head down at Henchman and stared at their wide-eyed expression with sharp-edged curiosity.

"What?"

Henchman wrung their hands. "Y-you've never called me that before."

"That can't be right; I call you that all the time."

"Dreamcatcher. You say, dreamcatcher...n-not dream."

Henchman stared determinedly at their knees, unable to look Villain in the eyes as they melted over a simple slip of the tongue. Why were they like this? They'd been furious at Villain a couple days ago, but now they'd laid their entire heart in their hands without hesitation. What happened to all that past carefulness? Maybe if they'd held some of themself back, they wouldn't be such a moronic mess tonight.

"I suppose I never asked if you liked nicknames," Villain said.

"N-no! I do!" Henchman replied hastily.

Villain raised one brow. "Honestly? You're ok with both of them?"

Henchman nodded. They would not squeak. Not right now.

"Good," Villain grinned, winding a lock of Henchman's hair around their index finger and kissing it. "Because you're both. A beautiful dream, and a loyal protector." Their eyes dropped back to the Tupperware on their lap. "What kind are they?"

Beautiful? Loyal? Henchman's brain was already floating away on the praise. It wasn't as if Henchman had done anything particularly noteworthy for Villain, not anything that anyone else couldn't do. Except well, the soothing thing. Was that what they meant? They wished they could get over this nagging feeling that Villain only did this because they needed them.

"Henchmaaan~."

Henchman forced themself back toward the ground.

"Oh, er, glazed chocolate. I know you like fillings, and I was going to do something with cream cheese, but then I didn't have time to go to the store, so I had to work with the ingredients in the staff kitchen, and we had a lot of cocoa for some reason, but maybe you don't like chocolatey things, I don't think I remember you asking for any, but I guess you do like chocolate milk so maybe--"

Villain pressed a finger to their rambling lips, and they came to a sputtering stop.

"I love chocolate."

"O-oh. Good." Henchman's voice mumbled against Villain's finger, and the criminal overlord pressed their lips tightly together, smothering a stubborn twitch in the corners of their mouth. Predatory eyes sparked and almost looked ready to eat them instead of the dessert.

But then a moment later, Villain cracked open the Tupperware and popped a donut in their mouth. Then another. Then two at once.

Henchman relaxed a little. They didn't need to hear praise. Villain's affinity for sweets couldn't be measured in words. On the road, they'd been able to tell which desserts were Villain's favorites by how fervently they ate. Apparently, they knew a lot about Villain by now.

"You know so much about me," Villain said between mouthfuls, as if reading their mind, "and I hardly know anything of you. Except that you're a great fighter, a hot temper, and obviously, a good baker. I know why you fight heroes, and I know you have powers, but I don't know the little details. Like what is your dessert of choice?"

Of course, that would be Villain's first get-to-know-you question.

"Probably ice cream."

Villain shot up so abruptly that Henchman's heart gave a little leap. They looked at Henchman as if they'd just said the most shocking thing in the world.

"But you never bought any while we were traveling."

"Well, we didn't have a freezer in any of the hotels, and even if we did, you never mentioned anything about ice cream, so I figured you didn't like it. And I was fine with bakery food, so..."

They weren't sure what else to say. Villain stared off at the wall like Henchman had just struck them over the head. Was it really that big of a deal?

"I don't have ice cream... Should I go buy--"

Henchman took Villain by both their shoulders and pushed a small pulse of soothing energy into their body. The criminal's muscles relaxed almost immediately, and they looked over at Henchman with calmer eyes.

"It's ok," Henchman said firmly.

"I bought a lot of things for tonight," Villain confessed quietly. "Things I hoped you liked. Because I'm self-absorbed enough to have never asked. To have let you dote on me for weeks and weeks. I wanted you to have a nice time."

Henchman's insides went mushy. Before they knew it, they were wrapped around Villain's neck. The blood coursing through their veins felt warm as waves of soothing power drifted off of them. It was an emotional response, and they should probably get it under control, but it was all they could do to share with Villain how much they felt.

"I am having a nice time," the murmured. "I didn't come here for my favorite dessert; I came here for you."

Villain's arms circled firmly around their waist. "There's that bold streak."

Henchman smiled. "Did you get skittles?"

"A big bag. You can have all the grape ones."

"Perfect. Should we watch a movie?"

"Not a slasher."

Henchman chuckled. "See, you're learning already."

***

The credits rolled across the screen, but Henchman basked a little longer in Villain's arms. They smelt like stone and sweet pine, and the steady rise and fall of their chest made Henchman feel safer than they had in the last month. Perhaps it just made everything more real.

After a couple quiet minutes, they finally forced their gaze up to Villain's wall clock and read the time: 11:45 p.m.

"I should probably get going," they said, lifting their head from Villain's collarbone and pushing themselves to their feet. "The buses will stop running soon..."

They trailed into silence, not exactly sure what they were expecting in return. An offer to walk them out? A last embrace? A...kiss?

"Stay."

Henchman hitched a little in their slow backward steps toward the door.

"On the couch," Villain said quickly. "Or the bed if you prefer. I can take the couch."

Henchman opened their mouth to respond, words still undecided on their tongue, when Villain hurriedly continued:

"You don't have to. But it's so late already; you might not make it in time. And I can give you a ride into HQ tomorrow. Next time I'll stay over at your place."

"In the barracks?" Henchman scoffed.

"What? You're embarrassed of me?" Villain grinned, regaining some of their usual composure.

"No overnight visitors in the boarding hall is your rule."

"That's the perk of dating the boss, we can bend the rules."

Henchman rose their brow skeptically.

"I can sleep in the bunk above you and hold hands over the mattress. Like old times. Hm?"

"If you say so." Henchman said it as casually as they could, but their brain was already swimming with images of Villain showing up in front of their whole team, in front of their team leader, and demanding a spot in the barracks. It made them want to smile and cringe at the same time. "I-I can stay."

Villain pinched their mouth shut once again. Wait. Was that their way of trying not to smile? They were so free with their sly grins, why were they so shy with the genuine ones? Maybe they were like Henchman. Scared of giving too much of themself in case it was rejected. Henchman never wanted them to feel that way.

"Then you can have the bed," Villain said, covering their mouth a little as the corners began to creep too far up.

"You...um...you don't have to take the couch." Henchman's stomach did a somersault as the words escaped their mouth.

"Your my lovely guest, dreamcatcher, I wouldn't imagine--"

"I mean...I don't mind sharing... I-if you want..."

Villain froze. Everything on their face washed blank, leaving their expression unreadable.

"Have you had more nightmares?" Henchman probed, mostly to prompt some sort of response from their sudden blankness. Did they hate the idea? Like the idea? Had they made them uncomfortable?

Something like understanding flickered across Villain's features. "Don't worry about that. it's enough having you in the next room."

They did not understand.

"I-it's not just that," Henchman said quickly. They cleared their throat awkwardly. "I...like sharing...with you. Everything feels...safer, I suppose. Better. A-and I like you." Then they added hastily, "Th-though we're already moving so fast. I really don't want to go any quicker, so um, if we did share, could we just..."

"Of course," Villain said, saving them from any further explanation. They smiled softly, this time doing nothing to hide it. "I only want to be near you. Nothing else."

It was like that that they ended up snuggled together in Villain's king-sized bed. No pillow barrier, no awkward terror, simply warmth. Simply comfort.

Henchman rolled onto their other side to face Villain head-on in the dark.

"You didn’t just miss me because of my power, right?” they whispered. For some reason, in this moment, it finally felt safe to ask.

Villain pressed a soft, sleepy kiss to their forehead. “I missed you because of your boldness. Because of your softness. For your listening, your care, and your determined loyalty. I missed your depth. Your understanding. I missed picking out grape skittles and sharing pastries. I missed holding hands and caring about someone more than I ever cared for anyone. And I really missed that adorable stutter."

Henchman sputtered for a reply, but in the end, they just pressed their hot face into Villain chest and let them resituate their arms around them. That protective aura washed over them full force, and in turn, they ardently shared their own soothing energy.

From that day forward, there were no more nightmares.

...

Thanks, everyone for the ride! It was a fun series to write and I only got this far because so many people supported it and motivated me to keep writing! Hopefully, this is a satisfying ending, as I wrote, it felt a little overly sappy, but oh well, I was trying to make the fluffiest fluff in the world with these two. They deserve it.

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @last-ditch-entry @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio, @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez

@hollowgast1 @eri-would-like-to-not-thanks

this is so lovely, I'd love for it to continue. I can picture the scenes and thoughts really nicely ^^

snippet #2 — constantly rotting

CW — depressed / burnt out henchman , bed rotting , mentioning of medications, dissociating

Henchman hasn't picked up any of the calls from the Villain lately and dear god, Villain was displeased.

And for a good reason, Henchman was the most trusted out of all henchmen in the organization with how well they perform and how they had stayed with the villain since the beginning.

so, how did it all change? They showed up less and less ever since That incident, even if Villain had called or visited them, they didn't have the energy to get out of their bed- their boss being unhappy with their lack of presence was reasonable.

all they do is rot in bed. constantly felt like they were only wasting their years.

Hell, Henchman doesn't even have enough money to live anymore so not only were they on the brink of getting fired or even considering retirement at this point but also getting kicked out of their own apartment.

This is stupid.

They were unemployed in their personal life and even if they did show up at work again, they felt nothing but guilt as others started to talk to them less or try to avoid them ever since. They didn't even know what they did wrong?

so every conversation they tried to take part in felt awkward because of that.

They looked around their room, everything was..a mess.

They sat up on their bed, looking down at their scar filled arms. Why are they even willing to devote themselves to a criminal, thus risking their own life?

many thoughts ran to their head until their phone started to ring again. another daily call from their boss, apparently.

they let it ring until it hung up on itself, while waiting so they finally got up, put on their uniform, and got ready.

if they had remembered correctly, they were called for a personal meeting upon stepping in the building.

And if Henchman was being honest, they were anxious. but at this point, do they even care what would happen to them? no.

–

Well, that didn't go well. for the henchman, at least.

It felt like a counseling session rather than a meeting and it took them back to when they were in highschool.

back to when they got so fucked up that they got sent to therapy and put into medications.

the villain was..worried, yet displeased. they not only had known each other for awhile on the job but they've also been close.

fuck, they felt even more terrible after they were dismissed. going back here was a mistake.

They were ordered to organize more paperworks and, even if the villain didn't say it directly, they didn't want to disappoint the villain even further so they got to work.

Now here they are, printing copies of the documents the villain gave, I mean, most of the time they were dissociating anyway.

nothing felt real at this point, they felt extremely disconnected from their body. almost as if their own body doesn't belong to them.

they wanted to go back rotting in their room again but it seemed like it wasn't an option now that they were here.

they were just staring at the printer as the machine does its thing, well, at least their body is. they didn't seem to hear the knocking on the door of their little office the villain provided them until they felt a tap on their shoulder.

when doese one make fanart for a man you adore

Happy May!!

Wait-

HIS BIRTHDAY IS COMING UP WE GOTTA ACT FAST--