celestiallights515

[celestiallights515]

IDGAF if the women in my fiction are empowering or aspirational, I'm an adult, I don't need role models, I want the women in my fiction to be interesting, and if that involves being pathetic, hypocritical, amoral, or trapped in a delightfully dysfunctional relationship so be it

[celestiallights515]

Please, pleassee continue Snippet 1/1.5

I genuinely love it so much 😭😅 (ofc it’s completely fine if you don’t 🫶)

P.s Right hand and Medic are r #1 wingmen

Snippet 1.6

Previous

There was a moment of silence after the admission, as if neither of them could believe the words that'd slipped out of their mouths. Words long, long overdue. A moment of silence was all the two were allowed before a rumbling shook the ground.

The dreamy, faraway expression of shock and disbelief and relief slid of Villain's face in favor of one much more wary. Right Hand entered the room seconds later, chest heaving and out of breath.

"Hero League is at the door."

Villain's brows furrowed. "Which ones?"

"No--like, Hero League. All of them."

Villain's expression locked down. "Tell Guard to keep an eye on Henchman and meet me out by the front gate. Henchman," Villain turned their eyes to the wide-eyed individual beside them, still processing Right Hand's first words. "Stay here and don't do anything stupid."

Without another word, the two rushed off out of Villain's office. Henchman figured better than to follow them, especially when Guard entered the room moments later using an ID card, meaning most of the doors had locked and Headquarters was under lockdown. Henchman heard only faint murmuring above them. Villain's office was situated in the lower level of Headquarters, below ground, as were other important meeting rooms and the location of any records with confidential information.

The front gate, obviously above ground, was situated very close to Villain's office, just on the floor above. Even so, for Henchman to hear anything other than very faint footsteps, meant something was going on.

"I know that look in your eyes, Henchman," Guard warned, "and even if you think you're getting Villain out of trouble with whatever plan you're thinking of, you're only going to make them worry."

"I wasn't going to do anything." Not a complete lie. Guard caught them before they could really form a plan that consisted of something other than pry open the door, make a run for it, and just start swinging.

The two glared at each other until an explosion from above rocked the chandelier hanging above Villain's desk, nearly sending it crashing into the polished wood. Henchman stumbled away from the center of the room and nearly bumped into Guard in their haste, their heart skipping a few beats as they heard yelling coming from upstairs.

They two only had seconds before the door exploded towards them, backed by a flash of fire and heavy smoke. Henchman's head was spinning, hit hard by the front of Guard's armor. Guard rested one arm protectively over Henchman, but from their incoherent mumbling it became all too clear Henchman couldn't rely on them for much more.

Their head was ringing, pressure and a high whining in their ears as their eyes darted from side to side. They remained still for the next couple seconds, scrambling for another plan as more shouts and screams came from the hallway.

Henchman began to scoot away from the door, weak and disoriented as they were. "Henchman!"

Thank you so much! hope it was worth the wait. Already have the next couple parts planned out so it won't be another month :P Parts will be shorter and MUCH more frequent.

Tagging: @nameless-beanie @crow-with-a-typewriter @mylovelyme @21fandom-shipper21 @gooberlad @cassidysinferno (If you wanted to be tagged and weren't please just poke me with a stick)

#heroes and villains #short story #snippet #villains and heroes #villain #writing snippet #henchman #villain x henchman #choose your own adventure #supervillian #poll #writing poll #writing community #flash fiction #short fiction #short stories #creative writing #tumblr writers

[celestiallights515]

Snippet 1.5

Previous

An accumulation of Henchman's nerves, curiosity, and isolation left them reaching for the TV remote and flicking on the news; if they were supposed to stay here, they may as well figure out what's going on outside. They weren't quite sure what to expect when they flipped to the right channel. At worst, they expected a detailed account of how Hero had beaten them to a pulp the previous day, and at best a dull prediction of the weather.

What they hadn't expected was a picture of the hero's face: bruised, blood, and scared. It was such a surprise Henchman merely blinked in silence for the first few moments, utterly failing to digest any of the words coming out of the reporter's mouth. Villain had to have been the one to do it. They hadn't heard of any other villains causing Hero so much trouble, and they knew they were incapable of doing that themself. Hell, in the previous battle, they'd barely managed to land a single hit on the damn Hero.

The TV flicked off suddenly. Henchman turned around, confused, until their focus settled on Villain's face in the doorway. They held the unplugged TV cord in one hand, and a small bag in the other. "We need to speak. In my office, if you don't mind." Henchman nodded numbly, and within a blink they were sat in Villain's office again.

"Hey," Henchman said, then immediately kicked themself, but Villain's lips quirked into a small smile, and when they drew closer, Henchman couldn't help noticing how they smelled of night air and coconut-vanilla body spray, which was their second favorite perfume, but very similar to one Henchman always wore.

"Hey," Villain responded, a teasing light in their eyes as they stopped within arm's reach of Henchman. "Are you feeling alright?" They asked softly, folding their hands together behind their back after dropping the TV cord and placing the small paper bag on the bedside table.

The proximity brought a faint burning to Henchman's cheeks, which prompted them to break the silence. Sitting up straighter, they spoke with a croaky voice. "I'm sorry--"

"Wait."

The Villain's soft voice was all it took to silence the breath in Henchman's lungs and steal the rest of their words off of their tongue.

"If there is an apology in order, it is one of me to you. I believe my anger was misdirected when we spoke earlier." Villain's cheeks were pinker than usual, though Henchman wasn't completely sure they weren't imagining it. Villain cleared their throat. "I... I wasn't angry with you; just frustrated at the situation. I didn't mean to cause you panic."

Henchman wasn't imagining it; Villain was absolutely blushing. Which was good, because so were they. Met with silence, Henchman floundered for something else to say in reply. They should probably attempt their own apology again, or accept Villains, but their mouth was full of marshmallows and their tongue was made of lead until,

"Did I misread anger for anxiety?" Villain offers, and they look embarrassed with themself.

---

I thought I knew them better than that. Villain knew they were making a horrible mess of the entire situation, but Right Hand made it clear on no uncertain terms that if they had to watch Villain beat around the bush with Henchman anymore they'd shave off their eyebrows in their sleep, then make them confess, which was an infinitely worse situation that Villain was doing their best not to image.

Henchman shook their head slightly, then their eyes widened a little as they shook off the silence they'd fallen into. "No, not at all. I just--I wasn't expecting you to say that. I was pretty sure you were pissed at me."

It's a herculean effort to stop the sigh of relief from swooshing out of Villain's lungs, and the burning blush they were hoping Henchman hadn't clocked faded just the slightest bit. Maybe this wasn't completely hopeless. With another slight clear of their throat (a nervous tick they'd been trying to loose since childhood), they unfolded their twitching hands and offered the bag to Henchman. A peace offering, and an apology.

Quick, sharp footsteps passed in front of the doorway, and a flash of Right Hand's silvery hair was all it took to prompt Villain into their next words, uttered so quickly their tongue tripped over itself. "I was angry at Hero because I was worried about you." They were blushing furiously, and focused their gaze to the ceiling because any eye contact with Henchman would absolutely send them sprinting out of the room to take the easy way out. Or, in Right Hand's words: The coward's way out. It was even worse knowing their right hand was most likely listening as they dug themself deeper and deeper.

"It was the whole reason I wanted Hero down in the first place; they showed an interest in you--they attempted to target you, and I'm not sure if it was to hurt me, because they knew I cared about you, or if it was of their own accord, but I put you in danger and probably encouraged you to run out and fight them."

From what they could tell, they'd stunned Henchman into silence once again, though they couldn't tell if that, coupled with the blush on their ears and cheeks, was a good thing or meant Villain was just making a fool of themself.

"I thought I'd pass out on the spot when Right Hand told me where you were, especially when I saw Hero trying to call for backup. I wasn't sure what they'd do to you if they got you in custody. I went back as soon as I could to deal with hero, but they'd already gotten reinforcements and I couldn't get more than a couple good hits in--"

Their phone buzzed on their desk and lit up with a notification from Right Hand. [Slow down]. The bastard was listening.

Villain took another steadying breath, fixing their uniform and closing their eyes for a moment, clearing their throat and running one hand through their hair, bruised knuckles still aching. Henchman's voice broke in before Villain could continue their poorly planned speech. This was supposed to go so much smoother.

"I... I'm sorry, for worrying you. I didn't realize you held that kind of concern for my safety."

Villain collapsed onto their chair, holding their head in their hands as if that could make this entire situation go away. "I'm sorry, for dumping this on you so suddenly. I just... I would hate to see you get hurt again. I really don't know what I'd do without you."

"And Medic being so weird...?"

"I wanted to make sure you took proper care of yourself while I was gone. I guess they went overboard--but you do have a tendency to neglect your own needs in favor of work, and last night was no different."

Henchman blushed a little bit, and Villain felt themselves sliding into a more relaxed cadence as the conversation eased from "confession" to "take care of yourself, you idiot".

"You're one to talk."

That knocked Villain into another bout of silence. "I'm Villain. It's my job to go out and fight heroes--and maybe sometimes with Right Hand, but you're... you're different. Even considering my other employees, you are different. If you were hurt... If you'd died last night... I don't think I would be okay without you. I... really... I really care about you." Wow, great job genious.

Henchman didn't give Villain time to fret about what their expression meant as they replied, "I don't wanna loose you either, Villain."

-- Thank you all so much for all the attention and support on this series! It means the world to me. I have so many ideas for future posts, so stay tuned! Also, I have very little idea of how romance is actually supposed to go, so any specific requests are very much appreciated.

Tagging: @nameless-beanie @crow-with-a-typewriter @mylovelyme @21fandom-shipper21 @gooberlad @cassidysinferno (If you wanted to be tagged and weren't please just poke me with a stick)

#heroes and villains #short story #snippet #villains and heroes #villain #writing snippet #henchman #villain x henchman #supervillian #love confession #(kinda) #i don't actually know how to write this kinda thing #I"m pretty much winging it #so yeah #enjoy #also sorry I was gone for two weeks I forgot I had people on here that actually read my stuff lol.

[celestiallights515]

Snippet 1.4

Previous

The next morning, Henchman sat in the infirmary of Villain's Headquarters, the atmosphere as thick as smoke. Henchman figured Villain let slip to someone what they were planning to do the Henchman as a punishment for what they'd done, or maybe even details of how they'd be tortured or killed, or maybe even thrown out for the heroes to round up like a stray dog, most likely with their tongue cut out and hands broken so they didn't stand a chance at revealing anything they'd learned about Villain

They didn't really know anything useful for the heroes anyway. They knew Villain's favorite color (dark blue), favorite foods (anything with chocolate), allergies (blueberries), their least favorite movie genre (horror) and a couple other things they picked up from being around Villain so much.

They learned why Villain didn't get on well with their parents (they very much had a favorite child and it wasn't Villain) and what'd brought on their anger towards the Hero Agency once Villain brought them into their confidence, sure, but they didn't know much more about plans then the average civilian--that would be Right Hand. Their actual duties consisted of watching over supplies, managing other henchmen and keeping an eye on the overall workings of Headquarters.

Henchman hoped that taking down Hero would make Villain proud of them. Would make them allow Henchman into their inner circle and bring them into their confidence. They'd hoped to get as close to Villain as Right Hand--closer, after bringing down Hero. And instead, they'd suffered two humiliating defeats (and several broken ribs).

It all came to a head when Medic came in to check on Henchman's stitches. in addition to the blunt force trauma of being thrown through a window and into a wall, glass shards stuck into their back and left jagged, stinging wounds that oozed blood well into the night. Henchman sat on their cot, facing away from Medic as their wounds were inspected and re-dressed, and even then they could feel the hesitation Medic's hands, which were usually sure and quick.

Silence hung in the room like a dead man.

"What are they gonna do?" Henchman asked in a croaky voice, just barely above a whisper.

Medic paused. Considered. "What?"

"Villain. What are they gonna do to me?"

Again, they were met with silence. Henchman was sure the stress was worse than any answer Medic could've given until... Medic laughed. They laughed. It wasn't a snort or a scoff, or even a giggle--and they didn't even try to hide it! Medic stepped back for a moment, cackling as Henchman's stomach dropped. Of all the answers they were expecting, that was one they hadn't prepared for in the slightest.

"Oh, God, I needed that. You're hysterical."

"I'm being serious!" Henchman whirled around half way before the agony from the mess that somehow made up their abdomen sent lightning-hot reminders of why that was a horrible idea.

"Stop it, you're gonna hurt yourself," Medic scolded lightly, laughter still dancing in their eyes. "Have you really been stressed about that the whole time?"

"YES!" Henchman was near screaming now, though they weren't sure if it was ager or confusion that raised their voice. "Why wouldn't I be? Did you see how furious Villain was before they left? And I haven't seen them since. I left without permission and acted without orders; they have every reason to be upset. And everyone and everything's been so quiet today, it's like I've been handed down a death sentence."

Medic cleared their throat and the last embers of amusement flickered out. "Yeah, well, you're right about that, but you're not the one in danger. Or at least, you weren't when it mattered."

The tone of Medic's voice was dead serious--terrifying--and didn't help the growing pit of anxiety that had hunkered down in Henchman's stomach. They felt like they were going to pass out, woozy and dizzy and like the world was tipping out from under them.

A sharp snap under their nose anchored them a little more steadily to the bed they were sitting on, Medic having circled around the cot to look Henchman in the eyes. "You're fine, relax. The rest of us weren't supposed to tell you because it was bad, even for Villain, but I don't think you're in for anything more than a slap on the wrist, and neither does anyone else."

And they wouldn't understand that even if Henchman wasn't going to be killed, as thankful for that as they were, even a slap on the wrist as Medic said would destroy everything Henchman had been working towards. Everything they'd been hoping for. They should've known going into the fight that they were putting Villain's trust in them on the line, and they had--to a point.

They never expected they would fail as horribly as they did, nor that Villain would react with the kind of quiet fury usually reserved for their rare interactions with heroes or other members of the Agency itself. They hadn't expected to be sent to the infirmary the way that they were, or to be teleported directly to it from an alley just off the main scene of the fight after barely getting away.

And what they really weren't expecting was what hurt most: The fact that Villain had put them here and walked off without another word. They'd spoken in their office, but beyond that, there wasn't even a threatening note, or a warning given through Medic. They'd been effectively put in time out, knowing what might be coming but not having enough confidence to really prepare themselves one way or another.

“Hey, what did I just say?” Medic says, this time with annoyance in their tone. “Even if I don’t know the details, I know you’re gonna be fine, okay? You’re gonna be fine, and I don’t think you’re clocking Villain’s feelings towards what you did to Hero as correctly as you think you are, yeah?”

Their assessment was fair, if not a little stinging. They’d never been good at reading people, but they’d hoped Villain was the exception. Even with their monotone voice and often stony demeanor, Henchman knew how tired they were in a glance after a fight; knew when to call for Medic or coffee or let them get straight to their personal rooms and block everyone else from entering–something Right Hand was usually supposed to do. 

The entire night, they’d tried not to deliberate too much on Right Hand. They’d tried to ignore the stinging jealousy of the fact that there was already someone that was so close to Villain they could almost read their thoughts. They knew Villain kept a certian amount of professionalism and distance between themselves and Right Hand that didn’t seem to be present between Villain and Henchman, but most liekly because it wasn’t seen as necessary. They weren’t close enough for it to matter in the first place. 

“Okay,” Henchman murmured, and one look at Meidc’s face made it clear to even them that they didn’t beleive them for a second. Nevertheless, Medic stepped away. 

“Okay,” they echoed, with much more confidence. “You seem to be healing well, all things considered, and I have other patients I need to take care of, so I’m going to leave you here, okay? Try not to freak out too much on me, yeah?”

Henchman gave a weak nod, and an even weaker smile. They were sure that Medic could see them spiraling form the outside, but if they did, they didn’t say anything about it. “Yeah.”

Next

Tagging: @nameless-beanie @crow-with-a-typewriter @mylovelyme (If you wanted to be tagged and weren't please just poke me with a stick)

#heroes and villains #short story #snippet #villains and heroes #villain #writing snippet #henchman #villain x henchman #supervillian #TW injury #Henchman got their ass beat (again) #This one got a little out of hand #hope it was worth the wait #Will hopefully be posting soon but the last time I said that it was kinda a lie so I won't make any promises #Meant to post this yesterday but my internet was down for some reason #choose your own adventure #SPOILER: hero got their ass beat too

[celestiallights515]

Snippet 1.3

Previous

"Do you have ay idea how much of a threat hero truly is? How badly you could've been hurt?"

Henchman hesitated once again, but their wince of pain when Villain held their face and drew their eyes to theirs was enough of an answer to soften Villain's gaze. They heaved a sigh, gently releasing Henchman's face.

"What did Medic say--Never mind. i'll go speak with them myself. Don't move."

henchman followed orders, spending their remaining time pondering Villain's actions. The softness of their grip and the tone of their voice, most strangely of all the soft concern with which Villain watched their face. They'd even brought them directly to the infirmary as opposed to their office, and as it turns out had asked Medic not to let them leave until their injuries were documented and treated.

Time managed to pass agonizingly slow and all too fast at the same time, before Henchman heard Villain's quick footsteps beating a staccato rhythm at the door.

...

Henchman's face was pale and laced with an all too familiar taste of fear. Despite the ease of their actions and coolness of their voice (practically a confession, by the way) their intentions hadn't gotten through Henchman's head.

Unfortunate, but a conversation for another time, one much more private and much more comfortable for Henchman.

"It seems you have a much better idea of the threat hero poses now than I thought you did. Fortunately for you, I have some errands I have to run, so here's what's going to happen,"

Villain's hands are twitching at their sides already, so they fold them behind their back to keep the movements from henchman. Villain's sure they noticed, but the wariness on their face keeps them from asking questions. They wouldn't want to know anyway.

"I'm going to take you back to the infirmary, where you will be treated further. I've already spoken with them about the procedure I expect them to follow, so know that I expect you to cooperate with them."

Villain had spoken to Right Hand while Henchman was in the infirmary, ironing out the next steps: Hero's death and Henchman's recover at the top of the list.

They’d wanted to stop, to look at each of Henchman’s injuries individually and see to it that each had been treated and dressed. They wanted to ask if Henchman was in any pain, if they were scared of Villain or remembering their fight with Hero, what could have possibly possessed them to get into a fight with them in the first place.

They were exhausted. They transported Henchman back to the infirmary, giving Medic one sharp look to remind them of their prior conversation. Henchman was to receive treatment for every cut and bruise regardless of if Medic thought it necessary or not.

Then Villain left, if nothing else then to make sure they didn’t do something stupid.make sure they didn’t say something they shouldn’t. It was difficult enough to keep reminding themselves that taking care Henchman’s injuries would only serve to confuse and worry them further. They didn’t need more on their plate.

But how they wish they could.

Next

Short one today, next part hopefully tomorrow or the next day. Thank you all so so so much for the notes and kind words!!

Tagging: @nameless-beanie @crow-with-a-typewriter

#heroes and villains #short story #snippet #villains and heroes #villain x henchman #villain #henchman #supervillian #choose your own adventure #(kinda) #Romance won this time #but I'm planning something else for y'all whumpers so hang in there

[celestiallights515]

Snippet 1.2

Previous

Villain's office was nothings short of extravagant, even for them. Tastefully appointed curtains, a wooden desk and large leather chair sat on the far side, facing the door.

Villain had transported Henchman straight to the infirmary following their half-conversation in the middle of the darkened ally, then stormed away promptly. Henchman marched to their office as soon as they were cleared from Medic, hoping to explain themselves, yet they were greeted with empty space and an order from the imposing soldiers that they were to stay put until Villain arrived.

They'd received no other information, of course, but the TV screen to one side of the office was playing news clips from earlier that day with the Henchman's fight with Hero, Henchman themself wincing when they turned just in time to catch the blow that'd sent them flying into a brick wall hard enough to leave a crack in the (likely centuries old) architecture.

Villain wasn't merely upset about the defamation of a couple aged buildings; they'd overseen more than enough for Henchman to know there must be something else. The assumption that their help was needed, perhaps, was what truly aggravated Villain, but that did nothing against the feeling of dread that gripped the pit of their stomach when they heard the steady cadence of Villain's steps down the halls of their lair.

Before Henchman's mind wonders farther away from its spot n Villain's office, the door slams open. Villain's figure normally cuts an imposing silhouette, but their broad shoulders, all-black uniform and balled fists looked different than normal, much sharper than when anger wasn't directed right at them.

Villain doesn't bother to close the door behind them, instead storming over to lean against the opposite wall after grabbing the remove of the TV and using it to gesture at the screen. The fury in their voice is poorly concealed, though Henchman can't tell whether the break in their boss' normally calm, nonchalant character is on purpose or if they're really just that angry.

"What were you thinking?"

If Henchman thought they were scared before, it was nothing compared to the feelings that coursed through them the moment they heard Villain's voice, the dark tone and the clipped cadence of their usually steady voice. Villain had blood streaked across their cheek, seeping into the knuckles of their gloves, barely visible save for the tone in the light when Villain cuts the recording, pausing on a closeup of Henchman's masked face.

Henchman opened their mouth, only to once again find themselves floundering for an explanation that wouldn't leave their head rolling on the floor. The situation was too much, from the light of the ceiling lamps to the glint off Villain's blades, still sheathed at their waist, just beside the gun in its holster. Henchman wondered vaguely what it would feel like to be stabbed, or shot. Wondered if death would hurt.

When Villain spoke to prompt them again, it was soft, dark, deadly.

"Answer me."

Their voice was nothing above a hiss, barely audible over the hearing of soldiers shuffling at their posts along the hall. They were accustomed to the tortured sounds that bleed from this room, used to the blood that would seep from beneath the door from time to time. And they were inching away from Villain.

Henchman didn't have any powers. They didn't have Hero's flight, or Vigilante's invisibility, or Villain's teleportation--and oh how they wish they did.

Next

[poll was] posted on my blog for how anyone thinks the story should continue.

Tagging: @nameless-beanie

#snippet #villain #heroes and villains #writing snippet #villains and heroes #henchman and villain #henchman #Choose your own adventure

[celestiallights515]

#heroes and villains #villain #henchman #villain x henchman #short story #writing snippet #snippet #my polls #writing poll #choose your own adventure

[celestiallights515]

Snippet 1

At this point, I've given up trying to only post things I think other people will be happy with, considering it's been, like, a year. So enjoy.

Henchman staggered down the ally, dragging the back of their hand along their cheek as their foot sent ripples along a puddle, rain falling as a mist over the slumbering city. Street lights sent weak rays splashing across the exposed brick walls as movements sent spikes of pain through Henchman's body. They shivered, clutching a flannel to their shoulders that was at least one size too big.

Quick footsteps drew their attention behind them, towards the entrance off the street and away from the deadly silent streets on the other side. Nothing but empty night air met them, and Henchman set their jaw, turning back around and shaking off the adrenaline that shot through their system at the idea of another confrontation. Their prior meeting with Hero them in enough pain as it was.

"Evening."

Henchman leaped half a foot in the air, holding back a startled yelp as they came face to face with Villain, one eyebrow raised at their response. "What are you doing here?" Their voice was far too squeaky, the words far too callous. Villain stalked towards them, eyes already set on the darkening bruise on the side of Henchman's cheekbone.

"I saw the news," Villain answered, still focused on the already-midnight bruise. "I was wondering where you'd gone. No note, no mention, just keys on your desk and phone left on silent." Villain pauses, eyes narrowing as they scanned the rest of Henchman's body. "Then, of course, Right Hand shows me a clip of the news and a certain blondie trying to take down a hero that's been a thorn in my side for far too long. I figured you might run off this way."

"I was only trying to help, boss."

"By throwing yourself into combat unprepared. I wasn't aware you'd developed a death wish. I could've sent you to the cellar to satiate that; you needn't go searching for death at the hands of a hero I despise already."

Henchman floundered for a moment, mouth opening and closing like a fish, humiliation burning their cheeks hotter than any fire. "I don't--I didn't--"

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" Villain demands, cutting Henchman off sharply.

A short, hesitant, mendacious* shake of their head. Villain's eyes call Henchman on their lie, but their mouth stays shut until:

"I'll have Medic check you out at HQ then. Let's go." They offer one hand and Henchman hesitates once more. Another inquisitive look from the Villain as a car passes by the ally, illuminating Villain's eyes and the look of fury within them.

"I really--"

Villain reaches for Henchman's hand before they get the chance to finish, and within the length of a heartbeat, they're standing in the middle of the infirmary of Headquarters, Villain's angry footsteps and overly stiff posture leaving them to contemplate just how badly they messed up.

Part Two

#heroes and villains #villain #henchmen #hero/villain snippet #villain x henchman #villain x right hand #snippet #writing snippet #superheroes #supervillains #Choose your own adventure

[celestiallights515]

Stars pt 2

"They asked about you this time."

Caspian didn't wait until she was fully in the clearing before blabbering on, but Lyra tipped off the branch all the same, swinging upside down by her legs.

"When?"

Caspian offered a sheepish grin. "Nearly had me cornered, then asked about a certain blondie. I escaped, of course." Caspian leveled a glare at the girl swinging from the tree. "But what did you steal that made the royal guards demand to know your whereabouts?"

"I didn't steal anything," Lyra insisted, swinging back up into the tree. Her voice dropped from its shrill tone to an even murmur as the adrenaline faded. "Just a run-in with the King. Didn't even take anything and he's been pissed all the same."

"You didn't think to tell me this?" Caspian demanded. Lyra debated climbing higher, just so she could avoid dealing with Caspian for a little while longer, but the grip on her leg told her there was no getting out of it. "You can't just climb your way out of telling me what happened between you and the king."

Lyra sighed softly, hair lifting off her face. "One of my first missions, I think I was eleven? The guys thought I'd get in less trouble since I had a sweet face. Sent to steal a broach that the king happened to be wearing that day, ended up not being able to get it the first try and had to go a few days without food before I was finally able to snag it, but he seems to be a little hung up on me. Anything else?"

"So you were seen on a mission? And they just... let you go?"

"It was just the king that saw me in his office, and I looked like a little girl that'd been kicked out of home. So of course, he let me go. Wasn't too pleased when I ran away though. I think he was gonna turn me into the guards anyway if I'd stayed."

Caspian signed, running a hand down her annoyed face. "You said after the book that you'd keep no secretes from me. You swore that you'd tell me everything."

Lyra sighed softly. "You're right. This was a long time ago though, and until now, I didn't think it mattered. It's not as if he's personally after me, is it?"

"Yes, it is. I'd be surprised if this forest isn't full of guards by sunrise, or bounty hunters before that for the price he's probably put on your head."

"He's put a what on my head?"

Caspian sighed and slammed her head into the trunk of the tree, shaking Lyra. "Anything else you're not telling me?"

"You gonna be mad?"

Caspian sighed again.

"Not--no. No, I won't be mad."

Lyra sighed and pulled a folded piece of paper from the front of her shirt, the sides cracked and yellowed with age. Just the single sheet filled the clearing with the faint smell of dust and old books. Caspian hesitated, then her face went paler than the face in the moon.

"Is that from the book?"

"Snagged it before we handed it off. I didn't say anything, so they probably assume it's damage from before we got the book."

Caspian's face didn't relax, the crease between her brows deepening.

"Lyra, what the hell do you do when you're passing the stuff off to them? Do you know them?"

Lyra hesitated. "Yeah."

A/N: Currently lacking inspiration so any suggestions would be much appreciated.

#Magic #original writing #part two #descriptive writing #short story #flash fiction #snippet #magic books #betrayal #secrets #mystery #help #i don't know what i'm doing #it's late and I want to go to bed #: )

[celestiallights515]

Stars

The stars were brighter than she remembered, and the moon casted slivers if silver light across the clearing. The trees standing guard cast haunting shadows, darkness prancing between branches and blades of grass. The whispering wind was the only offered conversation for hours, along side the soft echos of broken branches and crunching leaves.

"Lyra."

The girl refused to move from her perch on a tree branch, though it was close enough to the ground she was sure that Caspian could climb up and demand attention that way if she wished.

"Is it done?" She asked instead, voice rough with anguish and hours of disuse.

An animal skittered along the branch above Lyra. She held up a hand and gazed at the creature. It was too dark to tell exactly what it was, but the faint silver light emanating from it told her enough about the creature's magic that she didn't bother to question it further.

"Come down here and see for yourself."

Lyra deemed a glance over her shoulder to the girl standing on the grass, panting slightly with a roughish grin on her face. An old book was clutched in her hands, bound by leather and embellished by gold. The ancient volume looked heavy, and Caspian held it like a brick.

"Were you seen?" Sneaking in and out of the Royal Library was not a mission left for the faint of heart. Or, the inexperienced thief.

Caspian somehow had the energy to look offended. She sat at the base of the tree, head tilted up and leaning against the trunk. "I think we'd know if I was seen and pursued."

"I think you underestimate how important that book is," Lyra snapped, and swung down from the branch with her knees still fixed around the wood. She snatched the book from Caspian's hands, leaving the latter no time to snatch it back before swinging back up into the higher branches of the tree. The wood was warm against her back and a welcome reprieve from the chilled night air.

Lyra flipped through the pages of spells and recipes. Love potions, luck spells, instructions for summoning and controlling fire--an overall comprehensive guide to magic in the first part of the book. Lyra was wise enough not to flip farther than that.

"How much longer do you think we have?" Caspian asked.

"We have a week to make a trip that takes three days, so I think we're fine by that count."

"How much longer will we be able to stay out here all night without freezing?"

Lyra shrugged.

"If all goes well, we won't need to worry about that."

Hi.

I have nothing to say for myself.

@heroes-villains-side-blog I’m back

#original writing #short story #snippet #fiction #flash fiction #magic #vivid imagery #descriptive writing #part one #i'm sorry it's been like four months

[celestiallights515]

May I ask what your novel is about? Anything at all if you feel like talking about it :)

Thank you for asking! To make it quick, it's about someone who finds out they're being used for their magic in a very anti-magic country (Country S) in order to gain an edge over the country they're at war against (Country E).

MC has to escape Country S and make it to Country E, then use what they know to help Country E defeat Country S.

If you feel like it, fun facts about your novel?

[celestiallights515]

I didn't have an idea for a plot when starting this, so it is a little jumbled. Here's an attempt to clear up some confusion.

Most of Aftermath has been narrated by the kid referenced in the second scene (by Aleksander). Aleksander narrated the second part of this part, but also the very first part of Aftermath (this is evidenced in the difference in eye color between the two narrators. Green eyes in part one, and brown eyes in part two). Aleksander is the villain. The last line of "I have a plan" calls back to the last line of the first part, which ends in the same line.

It was too subtle because I didn't think to make it that way until after the first few parts were done. I guess that's what happens when you start writing a story with no idea what's gonna happen.

In other words...

Pt. One: Aleksander

(Time skip of years)

Pt. Two - Pt. 4: Kid

Pt. Five: Kid, (time skip of minutes/hours), Aleksander

Pt. Six: Aleksander, (time skip of several hours), Kid

PT. Seven: Kid

Hope this helps clear up some confusion as to the timeline/characterization. I'll try to go back and edit but I'm working on my novel (which hopefully has a clearer timeline), so I won't make any promises. Good luck and happy writing!

The Aftermath pt. 5

I’m still in shock hours later, sitting on the forest floor like an idiot. I survived. I didn’t make it twenty seconds, but I survived. 

It’s getting dark, and at this point I have no hope of getting home before nightfall, but I start walking while piecing together what I know, using the bright lights of Syrus to lead me home. Now that I think about it, the villain had a point. There were no lingering fires, no sirens wailing in the distance like they were this morning. 

I strip off the uniform, dropping it by a tree as the cold wind hits the sweaty shirt on my back, adding to the chill. The villain kept the helmet, and I doubt I’d ever need a uniform again. 

Syrus’ city limit is denoted by nothing but signs, likely what allows such frequent attacks. My home has been left untouched but for a single slip of paper sticking out from the door. 

In case you were thinking of trying that again–

The threat and taunt clear in the note, I sigh and bang my head against the door. They know where I live.

Lovely.

I don’t spend long angsting over the note, I just sigh, drop my head, and go back inside. Three isn’t much else to do, but when the night sky is stained black like ink, sleep doesn’t come, so I spend a good few hours pouring over old news clips from Syrus–then the bigger, surrounding cities miles away. 

I search for the villains’ faces in every one, coming up empty handed every time. I finally admit defeat when the sky starts to lighten, flopping down with a frustrated groan and an oath to look more after some sleep. 

___

My sigh of annoyance echoes around my office, silent but for my clock’s constant ticking and Sierra’s wicked laugh. 

“Is the child still out there?”

“No, they left a while ago.”

“From your voice, I thought they came back.”

I fix her with a look, and she returns with a cheeky smile. “Don’t even say that,” I snap.

“Aleksander.” I turn away. “Aleksander, look at me.” I don’t, but that isn’t enough to stop her. “You’ve been understandably avoidant these past couple weeks, but understanding is not the same as acceptance, especially within the League–surely you know that.”

Sierra continues through my silence, “Since the League gave you reign over Syrus–something I fought for as you may recall, you’ve been nothing but a disappointment, especially after your earlier performances.”

“I assure you, Sierra, the League has been plenty clear on their thoughts of my performance.”

“Have they?” Sierra stands and grabs the papers I showed the kid. Casualty reports, newspaper clippings, my noted public appearances, as few as they were. “Every single paper I am holding is one that the higher ups have seen, and been disappointed by.” She grabs another pile of papers, this time official letters from the aforementioned higher ups. 

“Your performance was astounding, Aleksander. Enough so for your father to convince not only the rest of the council but the entire League that you were ready for your own city when you turned eighteen. He hasn’t lost faith yet, Aleksie, but the others are coming close. They’ll tolerate maybe another week without a response, maybe another three of this, then you’re out.”

I snap my head around. “Ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” Sierra concedes, “but true. Even if you don’t like this, you have to remember that you're not the only one on the line. Every day you wait, every minuscule, pathetic attempt at an attack is time you give you Syrus and time that disappoints the League. It’s time that puts your father in danger after he stuck his neck out for you, and time that puts me at risk after I argued on your behalf.”

Every other word dies in my throat. I’ve disappointed the council, but been able to make up for it with the help of my father. If I’m booted out of the League, I fail out of my family, and if I fail so badly I bring my father down with me– 

“It’s fine, Sierra. I have a plan.”

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@heroes-villains-side-blog whatcha think?

[celestiallights515]

The Aftermath pt 7

I spend what feels like days curled up in the safety of my basement, three locks and one metal door away from the villain and their massacre.  I brought my computer with me, looking in vain for articles or updates on the current attack. The villain seemed mild, almost merciful when we last spoke. They were definitely merciful when they let me go, yet they’re attacking a hospital. 

I thought the other attacks were bad; this is worse than I thought it could get. This is war. It’s clear in every voice that adds to the cacophony of screams, the smoke joining in the sky from countless fires across the city and the surrounding forests, and the wails of ambulances that transport patients through a wasteland to piles of rubble and smoking debris. 

My heart pounds in my ears when I hear banging on the metal door, my only layer of protection. I can’t tell if the accompanying voice is a plea o r an order, not until it fades into silence. For a second, I hold my breath, then try to find somewhere to hide in a room that’s oddly bare for a place so cluttered with stuff.

Adrenaline fades, heartbeat disappearing from my ears as guilt twists in my gut. The air stills around me, too calm despite the concrete and metal blocking me off from any airflow until the door bursts open in an explosion of shrapnel and fire, and everything goes black. 

I know it's short, I've been prioritizing my novel and editing is taking forever. Hopefully more to come tomorrow.

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Tagging: @heroes-villains-side-blog

#superhero #supervillian #heroes and villains #creative writing #original writing #snippet #TW violence #destruction #short story #villains and heroes #part seven #short update

[celestiallights515]

The Aftermath pt. 6

Sierra isn’t convinced, but another hour in my office isn’t going to convince her or help me, something I remind her of when she appears reluctant to leave. 

“You’re putting everything you have on the line, Aleksander. Hell, you’re putting everything of your father’s in danger too. 

“I know, I know, but I also know what I’m doing.”

“And what is that?” Sierra’s expression is alight with anger. “I have seen villains try the stuff you’re doing, and every time they do I’ve seen them fail. You cannot save a city through villainy, and it’s time you stop trying.”

I open my mouth to argue, but Sierra fixes me with a glare wicked enough to wilt flowers. “It’s obvious, Aleksander. It always is. The League is very much catching on, and while I’m sure they might understand a brief hesitation when you’re suddenly set on your own, they’re fed up, and your period of grace is over.”

Sierra stands to leave, but keeps her eyes on me for one more moment. “I won’t disappoint them again.”

A beat of silence. “For your sake, I hope that’s true.”

___

Several hours later, I’ve gained plenty of information–about other villains and other cities. Through mostly blog posts and news articles, I’ve strung together information about these villains.

They seem to be run by some kind of League, though there’s only speculation and no official word. Furthermore, there are several of these villains attacking cities. The starting attacks are always shrouded in mystery until some big public appearance; sometimes, when the attacks yield smaller casualties or damage, the villains are almost… replaced. New villain, new name, record high numbers. Much higher than cities run by their original villains as opposed to these replacements. 

I lean back. From the sound of it, if this villain is right about the low casualty rates, they’re either about to step up their game or be replaced–both of which will hurt Syrus and its people. 

When the ground begins to shake and a rumble low and deep fills the air, accompanied by smoke and screaming, I sprint to the downstairs cellar and lock the door, squeezing my eyes shut. The second time in two days. I can’t help but wonder if this is my fault.

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#tw destruction #heroes and villians #villains and heroes #supervillain #short story #original writing #snippet #tw violence #manipulation

[celestiallights515]

The Aftermath pt. 5

I’m still in shock hours later, sitting on the forest floor like an idiot. I survived. I didn’t make it twenty seconds, but I survived. 

It’s getting dark, and at this point I have no hope of getting home before nightfall, but I start walking while piecing together what I know, using the bright lights of Syrus to lead me home. Now that I think about it, the villain had a point. There were no lingering fires, no sirens wailing in the distance like they were this morning. 

I strip off the uniform, dropping it by a tree as the cold wind hits the sweaty shirt on my back, adding to the chill. The villain kept the helmet, and I doubt I’d ever need a uniform again. 

Syrus’ city limit is denoted by nothing but signs, likely what allows such frequent attacks. My home has been left untouched but for a single slip of paper sticking out from the door. 

In case you were thinking of trying that again–

The threat and taunt clear in the note, I sigh and bang my head against the door. They know where I live.

Lovely.

I don’t spend long angsting over the note, I just sigh, drop my head, and go back inside. Three isn’t much else to do, but when the night sky is stained black like ink, sleep doesn’t come, so I spend a good few hours pouring over old news clips from Syrus–then the bigger, surrounding cities miles away. 

I search for the villains’ faces in every one, coming up empty handed every time. I finally admit defeat when the sky starts to lighten, flopping down with a frustrated groan and an oath to look more after some sleep. 

___

My sigh of annoyance echoes around my office, silent but for my clock’s constant ticking and Sierra’s wicked laugh. 

“Is the child still out there?”

“No, they left a while ago.”

“From your voice, I thought they came back.”

I fix her with a look, and she returns with a cheeky smile. “Don’t even say that,” I snap.

“Aleksander.” I turn away. “Aleksander, look at me.” I don’t, but that isn’t enough to stop her. “You’ve been understandably avoidant these past couple weeks, but understanding is not the same as acceptance, especially within the League–surely you know that.”

Sierra continues through my silence, “Since the League gave you reign over Syrus–something I fought for as you may recall, you’ve been nothing but a disappointment, especially after your earlier performances.”

“I assure you, Sierra, the League has been plenty clear on their thoughts of my performance.”

“Have they?” Sierra stands and grabs the papers I showed the kid. Casualty reports, newspaper clippings, my noted public appearances, as few as they were. “Every single paper I am holding is one that the higher ups have seen, and been disappointed by.” She grabs another pile of papers, this time official letters from the aforementioned higher ups. 

“Your performance was astounding, Aleksander. Enough so for your father to convince not only the rest of the council but the entire League that you were ready for your own city when you turned eighteen. He hasn’t lost faith yet, Aleksie, but the others are coming close. They’ll tolerate maybe another week without a response, maybe another three of this, then you’re out.”

I snap my head around. “Ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” Sierra concedes, “but true. Even if you don’t like this, you have to remember that you're not the only one on the line. Every day you wait, every minuscule, pathetic attempt at an attack is time you give you Syrus and time that disappoints the League. It’s time that puts your father in danger after he stuck his neck out for you, and time that puts me at risk after I argued on your behalf.”

Every other word dies in my throat. I’ve disappointed the council, but been able to make up for it with the help of my father. If I’m booted out of the League, I fail out of my family, and if I fail so badly I bring my father down with me– 

“It’s fine, Sierra. I have a plan.”

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@heroes-villains-side-blog whatcha think?

#original writing #heroes and villains #villains and heroes #manipulation #destruction #short story #snippit

[celestiallights515]

The Aftermath pt. 4

My hands curl into fists as the blood on the streets once again fills my head, the constant ringing in my ears from the explosions and fall of buildings a cruel reminder to an even crueler reality. 

“I see it every time you attack Syrus.”

“No. You see one or two bodies. That is what you see.” The villain lifts themself from the desk and stalks over to the other side of their desk, pulling papers from a drawer and sifting through them. “Only one or two reported casualties and several severe injuries per attack. You have no idea what true devastation looks like.” 

“I know enough–”

“You know nothing. You are a child, and you think like it.”

“I don’t think throwing myself into your army was childlike.”

The villain lifts a brow. “Truely? Because it sounds like the same sacrifice countless other children have made and paid with their lives for. Hell, what are you expecting? Mercy?”

“I was expecting your lair to be fully built.” 

The villain stops at that, glaring at me. “Your city isn’t in the best shape either.”

“And whose fault is that?”

The villain stops again. “That’s very brave for being tied to a chair, which also further proves my point. You don’t know who you’re dealing with or the powers at play here. You’d be better suited to run around in a sparkly spandex costume and a mask that covers half your face than something like this. At least then you’d be where you belong.”

“That’s pretty rich coming from someone that doesn’t leave their lair when attacking the nearby city.”

The villain sighs, massaging their temples and closing their eyes. “If I were to set you up against any one of my soldiers, you’d die. If any one of the soldiers had disobeyed my orders, you’d have died. You do not understand what you’re getting into when you pick up a uniform that doesn’t belong to you, and you’re incredibly lucky I got an order to the soldiers in the time I did. Now I’m going to kick you out, you’re going to walk home, and you’re going to tell no one about this, understand?”

No, I don’t, but I don’t get a choice when the villain calls in the soldiers and I’m unchained, dragged through the lair, and tossed out to ponder reality on the other side of the gate, harassed by jeering guards until I’m out of earshot. What the hell was that?

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@heroes-villains-side-blog Thank you for all your support, more is on the way soon.

#creative writing #original writing #heroes and villains #villains and heroes #captured #fantasy #writing

[celestiallights515]

The Aftermath pt. 3

The soldiers' grips on my arms are so tight that it hurts as I'm dragged through long halls and winding passages. My entire body aches, feet scraping helplessly against tiled floors and kicking out against anything within reach.

We enter a room off a hallway and I'm tied down to a chair across a desk from the villain, their dark green eyes gleaming in amusement when they sit down across from me. For a long moment, the only sound in the office is the soft ticking of a distant clock and my quick, panicked breathing as the soldiers march from the room and back into the hall.

The villain reclines in their chair and studies me curiously, eyes searching my bare face now that the stolen helmet has been ripped from my head. "A teenager sneaking into my territory among ranks of soldiers. Now that's curious," they remark to themselves, still studying me.

"I think what's more curious is your attacks on my city. You have armies' worth of soldiers and refuse to do anything but monger fear and destroy lives."

The villain raises their brows at that. My voice is coming out breathy, but it's strong enough that it might hide the fear that's been curling in my gut ever since I crossed the gates into this place.

"Your city?"

I bite my tongue, breathing deeply while testing the restraints on the chair. "Of course it's my city."

The villain stands from their chair, silhouette blocking the light streaming in from the windows facing Syrus, smoke still heavy in the air. I can see the blood every time I close my eyes.

The villain's steps are slow, leisurely, as they walk around the desk to my side and lean against the edge, hands curling over the wood while they watch me, lips thin.

"You say this to me in my base, tied to a chair."

"It's not like I could speak to you any other way."

"And is that why you're here? To speak to me?" The villain stops, waiting for my response. When I don't give one, they continue, "you've posed as one of my soldiers, walked all the way with my army, and, what, expected I just wouldn't notice that one of the soldiers that didn't return from battle is now waltzing in, completely uninjured? Surely you have a reason."

"Just as you have a reason for attacking some random city?"

The villain freezes, eyes narrowing, and my heart drops. In an instant I want to take it back. I want to be hiding in my basement, curled up in blankets behind a barricaded door instead of sitting here, tied down and facing the most feared being within hundreds of miles.

"A random city?"

My voice stops working for a couple seconds, then I'm finally able to force out, "Yes."

The villain falls silent, and my mind flicks back to the bulletin above my father's desk, pictures of the attacks and sticky notes and awful red string the same color of the blood on the streets.

"Plenty of people have strung together your attacks, any possible motives, and come up with nothing. An entire city of people trying to figure out why you're killing them family by family, house by house, and have come up empty-handed. All we know is that you bring destruction and death for your own enjoyment."

The villain remains silent for another long moment, then their voice fills the office at the volume of whisper. "You've never truly seen death, have you?"

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Sorry this took so long, I'll try to update later today or tomorrow <3

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#heroes and villains #villains and heroes #creative writing #i know this took forever trust me on it #captured #escape #confrontation #i don't know how to tag