“I don’t mind if you have your toys,” the antagonist said, “I certainly have my own, though I’m less sentimental about them than you are.” they drew closer to the protagonist, blade biting into their neck. It couldn’t do anything to them- the skin would close over after the first spurt of blood- but it still sent a shiver of excitement racing over their skin. 

“You can do whatever you want on your own time,” they continued, “But when I call, I expect you to listen.” 

The protagonist snorted. “I can do whatever I want. I’m certainly not wasting my time obeying your every whim.” “And what you want is apparently to waste your time obeying the every urge of these ants.” the antagonist’s hand flashed, and a knife buried itself in the wall beside their friend’s head. Through the gag, their friend let out a startled scream. 

The protagonist lurched forward. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t break my stuff,” they said as conversationally as they could manage. “I’m pretty fond of it.” 

“You can get another one,” the antagonist said idly, and picked up another knife. 

The protagonist caught their arm before they could throw. “Don’t,” they said, voice low. 

The antagonist regarded them with some amusement, but didn’t pull their arm out of the protagonist’s grasp. Instead, they leaned in closer. “I’m pretty sure,” they said, breath hot against the protagonist’s face, “that I can do whatever I want, and I don’t have to waste my time listening to you.” 

“You are such a dick.” 

“I’m the only real person on this planet, sweetheart.” the antagonist jerked their head towards their friend. “The rest of them? They’re nothing. They’ll never understand you. They’ll never be on your level- not emotionally, not mentally.” They shifted their arm in the protagonist’s grasp, turning their hand to grab the other’s arm at the same time and pull them even closer. “They aren’t worth your time.” 

The protagonist drew back, glaring. “And you are? You, who have infinite chances to become a tolerable person and yet with every one you decide to settle even further into a  complete scumbag?” 

The antagonist let go of their arm. “If I were you, I’d be more careful about insulting me.” They twirled the knife over their fingers. 

Inadvertently, the protagonist glanced back at their friend. They were watching the pair, wide eyed. 

“I think I’d be doing you a favor,” the antagonist said.  

The protagonist stepped in between their friend and the antagonist, catching their eye. “Fine. Sorry for hurting your feelings. I’ll pick up your call next time. Now me and my friend are going to go.” 

The antagonist tapped their chin. “You know… I don’t think so.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“I don’t think you’re actually sorry.” 

“You’re a jerk. Of course I’m not actually sorry.” 

Another knife hit the wall by their friend. 

They hadn’t even seen it leave the antagonist’s hand. 

“Okay! Okay! I’m sorry, I am, I don’t want you to hurt anyone.” 

“Prove it,” the antagonist said. 

They sighed. “How would you like me to prove that I’m sorry?” 

“Stay.” 

The protagonist blinked. They had expected humiliation, to have to kneel or crawl or grovel, not whatever this was. “What do you mean.” 

“You’re going to go over and put on those cuffs, and you’re going to stay with me until I’m satisfied that you’re not going to keep ignoring me.” 

The protagonist paused, considering. 

“Take your time,” the antagonist said kindly. “I’ll just do some target practice while you think it over.” they readied another knife. 

The protagonist yelped. “Don’t! Look, I’ll do it, just let them go first.” 

The antagonist smiled, their eyes dark, and pressed a key into their hand. “Of course. Why don’t you go over and help them out.” 

They rushed over to their friend and unlocked one of the cuffs. Their friend stared at them, tears in their eyes, shaking their head. 

“Don’t worry,” they whispered, “I’ll be fine. Antagonist is a bit of a pain but they can’t hurt me.” 

A knife whistled past both of them. 

“Once you have the first cuff off, put it on your own wrist,” the antagonist said. 

The protagonist took a breath, and clipped it onto themselves. Then they did the same with the other. 

Their friend worked the gag off of their head. “I’ll get you out of here,” they whispered to the protagonist. “I’ll get help.” 

From across the room, the antagonist laughed. 

Their heartbeat picked up. 

The friend turned to face them. “What’s so funny?” They asked. Their voice shook ever so slightly on the question. 

“Unfortunately,” the antagonist said, “I don’t think you’re going to be getting any help at all.” 

“Oh really?” 

“Oh yes. You see, Protagonist wants to be here.” the antagonist locked eyes with them. “And they don’t want you getting in any trouble at all. Isn’t that right?” 

The protagonist clenched their jaw. “That’s right,” they managed. “Friend, look. I know Antagonist better than anyone else. I’ll be fine. You can’t- you can’t come back. They’ll kill you.” “I’ll kill you,” the antagonist agreed. “So why don’t you run along and pretend this never happened? I’m sure you’ll see your dear friend again in- well, maybe fifty years?” They glanced back at the protagonist. “They’ve always been a bit stubborn. It might be longer.” 

“Don’t listen to them,” the protagonist said. “Just leave.” 

Stiffly, their friend left. 

Thank you I love your work so much! If you were an AO3 writer I'd follow all your fics!

The morning of the sixth day, Hero awoke to find they weren’t alone. Villain sat across the room, silently watching. It made Hero’s skin crawl- though if they were honest, the itching, burning feeling wasn’t just disgust. They hadn’t seen anyone in days. 

“Finally decided to visit?” they said, voice cracking over the words. They cleared their throat. 

Villain tilted their head, continuing their silence for a moment too long. Hero was about to open their mouth for another cutting remark when- 

“I didn’t mean for it to take so long. I apologize.” 

Hero blinked. They looked at Villain again, closer this time. They weren’t just being quiet to creep Hero out they looked… worn. If it were anyone else, Hero would call them exhausted, but Villain was tireless. Wasn’t that why they were stuck here in the first place? 

“I suppose you want me to ask why it took so long,” Hero said, feigning boredom. They moved out from under the covers of their bed as nonchalantly as they could. 

Villain smiled a bit. “I missed you.” 

Did they. Hero’s jaw clenched, efforts to move the blanket freezing them in place. And wasn’t that something Villain would say. I missed you. As if they had the right. 

“That why you locked me up and then left?” 

“I was doing something for you. Actually, I have a present. That’s why I left.” “To get me a present?” Hero said, aghast. 

“To get you this,” Villain said, and tossed a bag at Hero. 

They caught it before it hit them square in the face. “I don’t want anything from you.” 

“You already have it,” Villain said, “just open it, why don’t you?” 

 “This better not be a severed head.” 

Villain’s face fell. “Oh. I-” 

“You didn’t.” 

Villain grinned, then winked. “I didn’t. But I couldn’t help teasing.” 

Hero sighed, the tension leaving their shoulders. The bag itself was nondescript, black, and bulging in odd places. They reached in and pulled out a strange orb-like device. 

“What is this?” 

Villain moved closer, staring at it. “I did actually consider bringing you a head. I thought you might appreciate something from one of your enemies, but then I remembered that a lot of your enemies are people I work with, and while they will need to go at some point, I didn’t know if you would like it enough to make it worth the bad blood.” 

“I wish it was your head in here,” Hero said, though there was no vitriol in the words. They were too busy staring at the strange device. It had a number of metal pieces sticking out of it at odd angles, and place where it looked like it plugged into something else at one time. “Is this what I think it is?” 

“That, dear Hero, is the core from Chief Sommer’s Ortega. If you want, you can use it to build a machine capable of infinite creation. Obviously, Sommer used it to control the populace through threat of violence, but I thought you might have some better ideas for how to use it.” Hero had missed everything after the word Ortega. They had been trying to take down Sommers for years- it was what got them into the game. The abuse of power, the injustice. It was in their hands. They were holding it. Finally, they tore their gaze away from it and up to Villain’s face. 

Villain was looking at them.

They cleared their throat, looking back down. “You got this- you stole? This?” 

“Well. The chief wasn’t going to be able to use it anymore, so I figured someone should take it.” 

“Me?”

“You. Us. I have the resources you can use to repurpose it. I’ll let you use that, use my resources, and all you have to do is work on it here. It’s where you’ll be anyway, in order to get that thing working again.” 

Hero swallowed. They weren’t stupid; they saw the ploy for what it was. Villain didn’t do anything out of the goodness of their heart. But this… Villain just handed them the key to everything. 

The detective stared, dumbfounded for the first time. His partner- not his partner anymore, was he?- smiled, pushing off the wall, striding over to the detective. 

He laughed. “As much as it annoys me, all this might’ve been worth it just to see that look.” “The- the first body,” the detective said. “Phillibert. It wasn’t about the money, was it?”

“It wasn’t about the money,” his partner confirmed. “You never really thought it was.”

“The second murder-”

“Clever touch, right?” his partner shrugged. “To be honest-” He winked when he said those words- “that one wasn’t me. Not personally. I was busy keeping a nosy little detective out of the way.” 

The detective swallowed hard. That was the night they’d been attacked in that alley together. The night his partner had helped him back home, given him a drink and tended his bloodied face and hands. They hadn’t argued about the case, for once. He thought that had meant something. 

Evidently it had. 

“When did you turn?” It wasn’t what he wanted to ask. 

His partner scoffed. “Turn. Please. There wasn’t any turn at all- I haven’t changed. I was never as optimistic as you.” 

“You wouldn’t have done this ten years ago.” 

They took a deep breath. “It’s called overstimulation. Maybe you’ve heard of it.” 

“From the noise?” 

It was mostly the noise. Protagonist gestured around them. “From everything. I feel like that should be obvious.” 

Stupid, stupid. Way to antagonize the guy with the gun, 

Villain paused, considering. “Do you have earplugs?” 

Uh oh. Red alert. Not good. Not good. 

“I forgot them today,” Protagonist said, trying to focus on not snapping or biting or hitting their head on the ground. “Bad luck.” 

“I have extras,” Villain said smoothly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pair that looked just like theirs, 

“That’s- that’s-” oh, screw it- “That’s a bad idea, for me,” they said. 

Villain quirked an eyebrow. Shockingly, he looked genuine. “Why?” 

“I won’t be much of a conversationalist if I put those in,” they said, trying very hard for a wry smile. It didn’t feel natural. This keyed up, nothing felt ‘natural’. It was never this bad. 

“You can still hear me.” 

“Yes, but- well-” 

“It’ll be easier to keep up a conversation if you’re not resisting the urge to kill me,” Villain said. “As fun as it is to watch.” 

Protagonist clenched their jaw. Their ears were ringing and their head hurt and there were pebbles on the ground under their hands. “If I,” they started, rubbing their hands against the fabric of their pants, “If I put those in, it’ll stop the noise and I’ll- crash. No more conversing for me.” 

“Crash. Explain.” 

“I’ll. I won’t be here anymore.” 

“You’ll freeze?” 

“No, no, I’ll just be- mindless.” They cringed at the last word. This was a terrible idea and they couldn’t stop themself from spilling everything. “I can’t think, or talk or- or do anything but listen and do, if I can understand what I’m hearing. It’s rote.”

“So you’re saying,” Villain said slowly, “that if you put these on right now, you’ll quit talking back?” 

Protagonist reached up to pull at a strand of their hair. Anything to focus on other than that voice. “Yes,” they managed eventually, not even worrying about the safety of lying. “But-” there was something they needed to say that was important, something to stop Villain, and even though they could see the shape of it in their head and feel the words in their mouth nothing came out. They squeezed their hand into a fist, nails biting crescents into the palm of their hand. “I thought you liked having someone to entertain you.” 

“Don’t worry about me right now,” Villain said. “Put them in.” 

They stared at the ground. 

Villain caught their chin- skin on their skin, hot and they could feel it and it needed to stop- and pulled them into eye contact. “Put them in.” 

They couldn’t think. Why were the lights so loud? And Villain’s eyes… relentless.

I’m gonna crash anyway. May as well control it.

Protagonist took the plugs gingerly, trying not to touch Villain’s hand. Tilting their head from one side to the other, they put one earplug in and then the other, settling them. 

Their tension didn’t fade immediately, but it stopped growing. The noises and the lights and the feelings stalled in their mind, and settled. Everything paused, and went sluggish. 

Villain was still staring at them, but they didn’t feel like parsing out the expression on their face. Or really even looking at them. 

“You can hear me?” Villain said. 

They didn’t say anything. It didn’t really matter. Villain said not to worry… 

“Stand up,” Villain said.

Still staring into space, Protagonist stood up. The movements were slow and jerking, like they were pulling their body upright with marionette strings.

I made a… mistake. Mistake. Shouldn’t have done that. Mistake- they tried to grasp onto the thought, pull it back and figure out a solution, but it slipped away. What? 

I want to sleep. 

Villain was saying something. With some effort, Protagonist dragged their eyes up to Villain’s shoulders. They weren’t doing faces right now. 

“-did warn me- you’re totally out of it, aren’t you? Like a lightbulb.” 

They wanted. They wanted something. They opened their mouth- and didn’t say anything. 

Hands steadied their shoulders, and Protagonist leaned into the warmth. It felt so good. They wanted more. 

Something inside their chest reared up, pressing danger into their nerves. They shivered, and the arms wrapped around them, holding them against something warm and solid. A chest. It rumbled with laughter. 

“...do this more often,” the voice said, muffled and distant. 

They shook their head, squeezing their eyes shut. What were they so worried about before? 

Something lifted up their legs, then they were being cradled against that warmth. What were they afraid of? They could just go to sleep… 

They didn’t have time to focus on inconsequential side gigs- people were disappearing, and then reappearing weeks later, fished out of the river, their bodies ripped and torn and sewn and dissected. Hero needed to know who was taking them, where they were going, how they were being taken, and why. They were pretty certain they could answer the first question. 

That’s what tonight was for. 

Hero dropped to the ground, dead silent. The guards had passed on their rounds a full minute before, leaving Hero a cool fifteen minutes to get from their initial opening deeper into the building. 

It wasn’t smart to go in so blindly. They knew that. They also knew how many people were disappearing on average- two a week- and knew that if it was Villain, there wouldn’t be any floor plans to speak of for the building. There was nothing. 

At least they were able to search the whole hallway before getting caught. 

One hand was on a doorknob to slide into the next room, the other on their throwing knives in case they were about to interrupt something, when someone behind them chuckled. 

“Would you like a tour?” Villain asked. “I’m happy to give you one. I’ve been looking for a second pair of eyes.”  They were standing in the darkened hallway behind Hero, leaning on the wall in a way that should have looked careless but came off as calculating. It was the same with their tone- flippant words that somehow felt ill-fitted to the person saying them. 

“You’re the one who’s been running around the city asking about me,” Villain said. “If you wanted to know something, you should have asked.” 

“You’re the one who’s been kidnapping all those people,” Hero shot back. They tried to spit the words, but the venom died on their tongue. 

“Is that a statement or a question?” Villain said. They smiled, then, and Hero’s chest filled up with warmth. They smiled back. “Would you like to see them?” 

Hero nodded, stepping forwards. They slipped their knife back into their pocket. They didn’t need it. 

That wasn’t right. 

Hero stopped. Blinked. What were they thinking?  

“Stop it,” they said out loud.” 

Villain turned, an eyebrow raised. They smiled again, sharp teeth flashing, and Hero’s chest remained resolutely cold. Good. 

“You’re right. That was unfair of me.” 

The rumors were right. Very little was known for certain about Villain- how long they had been in town, how far their plans extended, what their ultimate goals were- but there were rumors that they could control thoughts. 

“You can control minds,” Hero stated. 

“No,” Villain said. “I control everything.” 

“Really. Can you control someone’s will?” 

“All a will is is someone’s ability to control their emotions, their urges, their body’s responses. I control bodies. Every chemical you release, every signal your nerves sense. I control your will.” They leaned in. “Want me to make you beg?”

They were going to have to try a lot harder if they wanted a reaction out of Hero. “You seem awfully fine with me breaking into your base,” they observed. 

“Even the best of us still want someone to witness,” Villain said, leaning back. “And you’re better than the others. Your fear is different.” 

“Vigilantism has its perks.” 

Villain chuckled at that. “Before we go down,” they said, “you have a higher threshold for fear than others, but even you aren’t immune.” Their eyes flicked over Hero’s body, clinical, fascinated. “So I’m going to give you a gift.” 

“You don’t-” 

“Shh,” Villain said, and Hero shut their mouth. “There’s an old bible story,” they began, “where God tells Pharaoh to free his slaves ‘or else’. Are you familiar?” 

“Of course you were raised catholic,” Hero said before they could stop themself. 

Villain ignored them. “The ten plagues. Famine, death, rivers of blood. But you see, there’s a very interesting part where God hardens Pharaoh’s heart, so that Pharaoh continues to refuse him. Do you know why?” They paused, as though waiting for an answer. 

“I must have missed that day.” 

“Fear makes us do things we wouldn’t normally do. There is no choice when we’re afraid, we’ll do anything to get rid of it. When faced with the wrath of God, there is no real decision- unless, of course, you do not fear.” 

Villain tilted their head ever so slightly, eyes fixed on Hero. “I don’t want you to react out of fear. I want everything you do to be yours.” 

“So, what?” Hero scoffed. “You’re god?” 

“Haven’t I made my own creations?” 

The bodies in the river.

“You didn’t make anything,” Hero spat. “And I don’t appreciate anyone controlling my brain.” 

Villain shrugged, a half shouldered thing that felt entirely out of place on them. “That’s unavoidable. Something’s going to, and you should be happy I’m keeping the fear out of your brain rather than, say, taking some of those nerve clusters and squeezing.” 

The threat felt empty. No, that wasn’t it. Hero knew Villain had that ability, and that they could kill them, but the usual trickle of ice that usually accompanied true threats simply didn’t appear. Hero couldn’t find it within themselves to tense up for a fight. 

“Fear can be useful,” Hero said. “Prepares you to do what needs to be done.” 

“Useful? Really?” Villain said. “You would trust your body not to betray you.” 

“Yeah, I think I’d trust my body with itself more than I’d trust you.” Hero crossed their arms. 

Something glinted in Villain’s eye, and they turned. “Let’s go somewhere more private,” they said, and began walking deeper into the complex. 

Hero stared. Villain had turned their back on them. Was walking away, even. Hero wasn’t restrained, wasn’t even disarmed, they were just… loose. And Villain just turned their back to them. 

They went for their knives. The moment they touched the blades, pain lanced up their arm. 

Down the hallway, Villain sighed, turning to walk back. Their right hand was outstretched, palm up. “I suppose we can do it now.”

Hero didn’t move.

“I’m holding onto your secondary nervous system,” Villain said, voice light, like they were having afternoon tea. “Pulling out your freeze response. Feel that?” 

Hero stood, staring, heart hammering, air frozen in their lungs. The muscles in their neck started to tense and untense, trying to pull in air.

“You don’t feel fear like this often,” Villain said. “It’s what makes you so much better.” They flicked their fingers. 

Air rushed back in, and Hero took a step back. “I’m- that can’t possibly be the reason I’m better. I feel fear. Other people stay calm- that can’t possibly be the reason.” 

“Other people don’t consistently face off against people like me.” 

“You admit there are other people like you?” Hero said, more to distract Villain for a moment and regain their composure than anything.

Villain laughed. “I’m not the only one with my power.” 

Hero felt the urge to stiffen- but it passed. “Others?” 

“There’s no need for you to worry. If there are a thousand like me, then maybe ten are even aware they have powers- and of those, only I possess my refinement. It’s an art, you know. Teasing out responses- pulling on one chemical, pushing on another. It takes time to figure out. First poor souls I worked on-” Villain spared a glance to the side, remembering- “well, as it happens, too much of one chemical flooding your brain can trigger some unfortunate side effects. But that was years ago.” 

Morbid fascination made Hero want to know exactly what happened and how, but they pushed that to the side. “How would someone not realize they could- control people? Control bodies?”  

“At very low levels, it might simply be unconsciously done. They might be an exceptionally good doctor, or maybe assume they are just very persuasive. It’s easy to be charming when everyone gets a dopamine hit just by seeing you.” 

They were directly in front of Hero now. “Your freeze response is a bit boring, no? Let’s try another.” 

Hero grit their teeth. They needed to stop Villain- they needed Villain happy with them. Villain was angry, angry enough to hurt Hero, and Hero could- Hero could ask, they should ask, they should plead, they should- not ask forgiveness, not that, they shouldn’t ask for anything, but they could ask what they could do to help, they should apologize for breaking in, Villain, they should get on their knees right now and beg- 

A shudder shook through them. 

“Come on now,” Villain said. Their foot tapped on the ground, arms crossed, shoulders tight, jaw set- 

“Sorry,” Hero said, the word bursting out. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough. “I-” They clamped their lips shut. 

Blood in the water. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry! Villain- please, I- I’m sorry, please please, I didn’t mean- I can do anything, I’ll do anything, I swear, I’m so sorry, please-” Hero’s eyes pricked with tears. 

And then they didn’t. Hero blinked, still breathing hard. They studied Villain, suddenly uncaring about their stance or the slight curve at the edge of their mouth, but didn’t say anything. They didn’t know what would come out if they opened their mouth. 

“You still think fear is a good thing?” Villain teased. 

Hero wasn’t one to admit defeat. They needed more information on Villain, and Villain was… 

“Uh, Hero?” Sidekick said, looking over their shoulder. “What are you doing?”

Hero gave a guilty glance over at the paper next to them, which had a list of f words on it: foil, fool, fiend, foul, farce, fink. “Nothing,” they said.

Sidekick raised an eyebrow. “Really.”

Hero nodded. It wasn’t even all that untrue, they weren’t really doing anything important.

Quick as a viper- a backstabbing, bitter banshee (no, that didn’t work)- Sidekick reached out and grabbed the paper from Hero’s desk.

“You may have a pointless plot, you puddling paperclip, but I know something you don’t,” they read out loud. “You really shouldn’t have tried to fool me with some foul fancy, for I’ll foil your-”

“That’s MORE than enough,” Hero interrupted. “Quit it.”

“What is this?” Sidekick asked. They grinned. “Is someone feeling a little upstaged by Villain?”

“No.”

“Is this because they called you a ‘handsome handful’ the other day?”

Hero’s cheeks went red. “No!”

“Are you suuure?”

Hero had to regain control of the situation. They snorted in very casual, uncaring way. “Please. As if I’d be affected by that. You know half the villains we face have a thing for me.”

“Sure, but you don’t have a thing for all of them.”

“I do NOT have a thing-!” Hero took a breath. And another. And did not make eye contact with Sidekick, who was definitely not making the world’s most punchable expression. “Don’t you have a case you should be working on?”

Sidekick pouted. Hero didn’t look up.

“I mean, I guess,” they said. “Feeling a little down about it ever since the thief left that last note.”

It was Hero’s turn to smirk. “Ouch, right. What was it they said? You were too boring for them?”

“Thieves only say that when you’re actually very interesting and they want to insult you,” Sidekick sniffed.

“For sure,” Hero said. “For sure… but you might want to work a little harder on solving it. Just in case.”

Sidekick shot them a glare, but stalked off in the direction of the computer anyway.

putting it under a cut bc it’s ~long (like 1700 words)

Please Stop Peeling the Skin Off Your Feet

Every day I come home from work and find peeled skin in the kitchen. 

The kitchen. 

Now, I told Barney that if he really had to, he could peel his skin, but only in the bathroom where it can be thrown away. I don’t want to deny him his coping mechanisms, see, I’m not about that type of thing. I’m not. 

But no, he couldn’t stop there. 

This was it. Villain had the city, and now their sword was biting into Hero's throat, their arm pinned down, useless, scrabbling for purchase on some stone, some last desperate bid at life, and the blade was carving deeper and deeper and they would die in this alley with Villain cackling above them and the knife was cold-

Villain released them and stepped back. "I'm done." Their knife clattered to the ground.

"...What?" Hero took a step back from Villain, hand clutching their throat, long dagger forgotten by their side. They blinked. "That's not what you're supposed to say," they said, raising the blade to Villain's throat. "What are you playing at?"

Villain scoffed, hands up in a supposedly nonthreatening gesture. "No games. Not this time. I'm done."

Hero took a step forward, pressing the blade into Villain's skin ever so slightly. "I don't believe you."

"You don't believe me, or you don't want to believe me?"

Now, that was just unfair. Hero took a moment to study Villain's face. They looked tired, sure, but a life of crime did that to someone. Maybe Villain had gotten tired of scams and hacks and terrorizing the people of San Marcent, but Hero found that unlikely. Not when they had already won.

"I don't believe you," Hero said coldly. "You've done nothing but lie, in your words and your actions. Why would you change now?"

"Why wouldn't I? I have everything I want." Villain grinned, staring up at the sky. "I won. There's nowhere else to go."

Air heaved fast and heavy out of Hero's lungs. Their throat throbbed, their heart pounded, but none of it seemed to matter. This wasn't happening. This was... good?

"You're lying," they decided. "You're trying to extend the chase. You want someone to fight against you- you're pathetic, you know, you destroy everyone's lives because you feel like it and then throw away your victory like a petulent child-"

"Are you done?" Villain asked. "I think you should turn me in to law enforcement now."

"No!" The word burst out of Hero's lips unbidden, more forceful than they meant. "I mean- You would kill them."

"Kind of you to think that." "You would," Hero said. "You would. You're not done, I know that."

"Is that a prophecy or a command?" Villain rolled their eyes, moving away from Hero's knife.

"Stop moving," Hero hissed, stepping closer. Villain did stop, eyeing them up and down with the upturned curve of a smirk starting in the side of their mouth.

"Are you gonna arrest me or not? Make up your mind."

"I- Shut up." Loathe to take their eyes off Villain, it took a few moments of blind searching to find their handcuffs, but they pulled them out. They took an uncertain step towards Villain.

Villain turned, presenting their hands behind their back for Hero's convenience.

They had to be planning something. It was a trap- something was wrong. Hero snapped one cuff on, tightening the cold metal around Villain's wrist.

Just the other wrist now. It had to be a mistake. They were being fooled, Villain was tricking them even now. They were. They had to be.

"Come on. Don't tell me you're getting cold feet now."

Hero snapped the other cuff onto Villain's wrist, realizing a moment later that they had essentially followed Villain's orders. Their hands shook as they resisted the urge to uncuff Villain. This was so wrong.

But if it was a ruse... if Villain was just gonna break out of jail or rob the courtroom... what harm would it do to try locking them up? They would escape, the farce would be over, and Hero could catch them for good the next time. It hurt nothing to let Villain think they got away with it- their overconfidence would be their downfall.

Armed with that thought, Hero manuevered the cuffed Villain out of the alley.

"You hesitated," Villain said. "Why?"

"Are you actually asking or do you just want to tell me what you think?"

Hero couldn't see Villain's face, but they knew they were grinning. "You got me. I think you didn't want to believe me because you don't know what you'd do without me."

"Sure. You can tell yourself that if it makes you feel better."

"I think you need to chase me." Villain turned, pulling away from Hero. They rushed forward for a second, trying to keep Villain from running, but Villain didn't move farther away- they were looking at Hero face to face. "You need to chase me, so the best way to hurt you is to deny you that."

"Keeping saying that, maybe one day it'll be true."

So basically i reread your Mouse in the library series ((because your writing is amazing and i love Fae stories)) and I don't have the words to describe how much i like it.

The way the prince avoids lying, how he acts with Mendel and their general conversations, the library, also how the writing style is so nice that i (oddly enough) don't get bored nor skip lines, it is all wonderful!!

Also, i wanted to ask. I did a (quick and perhaps not entirely accurate) research on the names that were used.

Did you name the prince 'Alaric' ("all powerful/everyone's ruler") and the librarian 'Mendel' ("comforter") on purpose with the name meanings in mind? If so that would be so cute! And even if you chose them for different reasons, i really think they fit.

Anyway, i just wanted to rant a bit over this series because it is weirdly comforting to read it again and because i am getting over my anxiety of sending asks to the writers that i look up to

Best wishes!!!

🌺🌺🌺🌺

I- 😭 this is so sweet and no one’s ever asked ab name inspiration before, you are absolutely not bothering me and I love you so much.

The name Mendel had been rocketing around my head for quite some time before writing that, and even a similar character had popped up in earlier journal notes. I hadn’t gone back and read them for a bit, so I went back to see if I had other notes on names- for Mendel, I think it was between that, Blue, and Mischa. I went with Mendel (though for a few pages I spelled it Mandel). In all honesty, I don’t think I ever googled what it meant.

The fae prince never had a name, at least not at first. Names are very important to the fae, so in my head it made total sense that he would never have one, never have anybody with that kind of power over him, not even giving anyone a fake name to use for him like Mendel gives him. When the time came to give him a name, however- you’re dead on with it- I searched up a bunch of names for power and chose the one that I thought fit him best.

I liked the first few parts a LOT and I loved writing them but (as with most of my snippets) it was very self indulgent and I didn’t exactly know where to go with it. I really wouldn’t mind going back, it would just take a little time and focus to figure out what I wanted to do. The idea started as me thinking about masking and how different it makes you act- customer service, right?- and what it would be like for someone to see right through that.

❤️

oml thanks so much

I saw this when u sent it in a few days ago and I've come back to look at it like every day. It's insane how much a few words can mean to someone, and it's really hard to articulate how much this means to me.

Also, if you do start writing more seriously, I would love to read it. Like, dm me or smth (if you’re comfortable with that ofc).

Been on a bit of a Star Wars run (hyperfixation make brain go brrr) and just. It would make so much more sense.

I really liked the last jedi. I liked that Rey was a nobody, that it emphasized the idea that anyone can be the “chosen” one and you don’t have to be related to That One Family. I liked other things ab it, but that’s what I’m focusing on here.

Hated the rise of skywalker. god. Some people (sorry @villain-enthusiast) had to deal with my rage texts last week after rewatching it because WOW the failed potential and ACTIVE decimation of previous movies... but I’m not here to focus on that, either.

Rey being a palpatine: boring, weird, means palpatine had sex with somebody, and also that he’s still alive and therefore Vader’s betrayal in the return of the jedi meant basically nothing bc palpatine survived.

Rey being a kenobi: possibly means that she’s korky’s daughter! The grandchild of obiwan and satine! This makes more sense! AND THE PARALLELS!!

The first time kenobi and skywalker fought, kenobi won, but in doing so had to kill (so he thought) his best friend. He failed. Even when they fought later, he still could not bring anakin back. THIS time, a kenobi and a skywalker fight, but instead of one killing the other, kenobi is finally able to save skywalker- and in doing so, brings obiwan’s arc full circle. Maybe he couldn’t do it in his lifetime, but his granddaughter saves anakin’s grandson from the dark.