“You’re going to blow out your arms,” the villain observed. They watched as the hero merely grit their teeth, shoving themself through another pull-up. It looked painful, and if the sweat slicking the hero’s brow was any indication, it was.
They waited for the hero to let themself drop from the bar and accept the villain was stronger. But they didn’t.
Three more pull-ups, and the villain stepped in.
“Hero,” they said slowly. “You’re about to tear the ligaments in your arms. You need to stop.”
The hero blew out a shuddering breath. Struggled for purchase, fighting gravity—and let themself drop.
The hero’s hands were bleeding, calluses torn open by the bar. The hero didn’t seem bothered when their own hands shook so much that their blood began to splatter on the gym floor.
For a moment, the villain could only stare at them.
Shit.
They didn’t know how to handle this. They knew the hero was dedicated. They knew the hero was strong, and perpetually trying to be stronger, but they hadn’t thought…
They hadn’t thought the hero would be so willing to tear apart their own body for success.
It was supposed to be fun, the villain thought. They felt a little sick as the hero pressed their palms together to soothe the bleeding, an action that was practiced and familiar. As if they had done this before.
The hero reached for something in their bag, smearing blood on the side, and pulled out a roll of blue electrical tape. The villain didn’t understand why, until the hero tore a strip off and made to wrap their hands with it.
The hero would be the death of them.
They crouched in front of the hero, plucking the electrical tape out of their hands.
“What are you doing with this?”
The hero blinked at the villain like they were the strange one in this situation.
“Wrapping my hands?”
The villain hissed in a breath.
“With electrical tape?”
The hero flushed slightly, looking down at their bloody hands. They looked close to tears.
“It…sticks to skin, really well. And it doesn’t move, either, when you move your hands or wherever else, even if you’re fighting. Plus, blood doesn’t make it come off, at least, not for a while.”
The villain blinked at them.”
“Blood doesn’t make it come off,” the villain repeated, processing. The hero nodded, reaching for the electrical tape. The villain settled it out of reach.
“Not if you wrap it right.”
Dimly, the villain realized that meant the hero had done this enough times to have it down to a science.
“And you couldn’t use a bandaid?” The villain asked incredulously. The hero shrugged a shoulder, then winced at the motion.
Yeah, the hero had absolutely blown out their arms.
“Bandaids move—“
The villain hushed them.
“Be quiet for a second.”
The hero, wisely, went quiet.
The villain rubbed a hand over their face, then studied the hero for a moment. They took one of the hero’s hands into their own, studying the damage.
“Why did you do this to yourself,” the villain murmured.
“What do you mean, why,” the hero snapped. “It’s my job.”
“Your job is to save people,” the villain corrected. “Not destroy yourself.”
“I’m not destroying myself—“
“You are.”
“Shut up—“
“Hero.”
“I need to be better,” the hero snapped. Their voice rang out across the gym, echoing into the rafters, and they both froze. After a moment, the hero spoke again, voice soft. “I need to be better.”
They said it like they needed the villain to understand. The villain wondered who they were really saying it to—the villain, or themself.
“Better than who?”
“Everyone.” It was hushed, like a secret.
The villain watched them, waiting.
The hero took a shaky breath
“My whole thing is being the best. I have always been the best. That’s the only reason I matter. If I’m not strong enough, then I am nothing, so I need. to be. better.”
The hero had started crying, very quietly, like they were afraid to take up too much space.
The villain was not equipped to handle gifted kid burnout.
“There’s more to you than just being a good athlete,” the villain said hesitantly, and the hero shook their head.
“No. There isn’t.”
“Hero.”
“Can you give me back my electrical tape?” They hiccuped to contain a sob.
“No,” the villain said firmly, and then the hero really was sobbing.
“You don’t understand—“
The villain didn’t. Not really. They had never been the kind of talented that the hero was.
They wondered now if maybe that was a blessing.
“I don’t,” the villain agreed. “But I do understand that you’ve saved half the city, and you give everything you have to give, and you always do your best.”
“But I-“
“No.” The villain stopped them. “You are doing your best.” They tipped the hero’s chin up until they met the villain’s eyes. “And it is enough.”
The hero froze, eyes darting over the villain’s face. They wondered if anyone had ever said that to the hero, if whatever mentor they had was giving them anything other than orders to be stronger. Be better. Be more.
The villain had some new targets to take care of, it would seem.
For now, though, they had to take care of hero.
“We’re going to go wrap your hands,” they said softly. “And then we’re going to take care of your arms, and you’re going to take a nap.”
The hero nodded, watching them like they were some kind of good, selfless person.
“And if I ever catch you using electrical tape again, so help me, I will put you six feet under.”
That startled a laugh out of the hero, and they let the villain guide them to their feet.
“Fine.”
The villain turned to them. “Okay?”
Are you going to be alright?
The hero seemed to understand.
“Okay,” the hero agreed.
Yes.
And so, it was.
347 notes
·
View notes
It’s not Monday but it’s certainly Mayu Monday for me! This is my only artwork for March so I’ll see you all again in April or soon after! (⌒▽⌒ゞ
Pantyhose: I actually went back then forth trying to decide between bare legs and pantyhose but I ultimately decided pantyhose was the way to go. The pantyhose are meant to match the corset except no leather and comfort of course. It has lace details and a leather belt on her left leg. The lace stops around her ankles.
Hair: to stay within steampunk territory, I decided to make her hair fluffy, swirly, and lots of curl heart shapes. I don’t like to use one range of colors so I made the choice to go with my heart and make it extra colorful! (Although Mayu’s hair always proves to be a challenge (∩︵∩)
Makeup: I tried to make her extra girly- sorta 40s makeup vibe. So red lipstick and pink blush. I also tried to make her details more rounded to give a softer appearance :D
Shoes: it was my try of Mary Jane’s inspired shoes so please remember they are NOT accurate. She has small legs warmers over the shoes and tied off with pink bows, a short heel, and golden beads to go around the rim.
Gloves: blacks gloves with the tips of her thumb, middle, and ring fingers revealed, and well as leather and golden beads to go around and lace at the bottoms.
Dress: sheesh I’ll try to explain as well and possible… the dress comes with a color, ruffles, folds, and lots of lace for the underskirt. She has two belts below the sleeves to emphasize the ruffles. The dress also comes with a front tying corset that I took extra care to seem functional. The corset comes with lace, leather, and POCKETS! Because every girly in a dress needs pockets (she was originally gonna have a gun in her beta design shhh). The pockets are attached to the leather part of the corset in the back, and is also joined with golden beads? Buttons? Idk those things. She also has three rows of the golden beads on her skirt!
Hat: Her top hat is decorated in clocks, chains, and gears for a some steampunk effect, as well as a pink bow and pink bunny ears. Around the hat is black lace and under the hat is pink lace for some pop!
94 notes
·
View notes
do you have any book recs in general? i love your writing style and would love to know what inspires you! <3
four books that i can say really genuinely inspired me and my writing in terms of most to least favorite (of course these are all favorites but they can still be ranked)
Everything is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer — for masterful use of symbolism, epistles, the fact that every time i read it (over a dozen times at this point) i discover something new, and the fact that JSF was twenty when he wrote it—lends some belief that i might be able to do the same or similar. read this book when i was 15 and it is no joke the reason i am at the school I am at right now. long story but… this book makes up a sizable share of my soul
All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque — for plot, character, and power of emotion. If you get a good translation, this book feels like a modern piece of war fiction akin to Kevin Powers’ The Yellow Birds or the first half of Full Metal Jacket. There’s a reason this book was one of the first to be burned by the NDSAP in the early 1930s. Absolutely superb & reading this book at 14 right after i had experienced my own sense of unparalleled loss and tragedy genuinely changed my life. A solid part of why i am interested in milhistory
American Pastoral by Philip Roth — for character, specificity of detail, and engagement with politics. I love every Roth piece I get my hands on. He’s gritty and gross and ahead of his time. This book was genuinely devastating to read. It’s so specific it HURTS. Proved to me that details are how you sell a story. There’s like a three-page monologue about how to make women’s gloves, and because of the context every word is more gripping than the last. One of the best ever American authors at the peak of his game imo. Which is not an unpopular opinion, this book is heavily lauded for a reason
Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov — for plot, inventiveness of language, and character most especially. Lolita actually isn’t an all time fav for me because I didn’t particularly like the ending (i didn’t understand the role of quilty in the story) but I can definitely say it’s had a clear impact on the way i write and especially the way i narrate. Humbert humbert squeezes out the truth and is so ashamed of the truth that his shame and all his little lies bleed out through every word. He’s utterly absurd but he’s entirely believable. He’s just… I don’t know. He’s just human. In a way that all fictional characters have an imperative to be human, because fiction is a reflection of our own sick and shameful real lives… and that comes out in Nabokov’s diction and syntax. It’s less specificity of detail, like Roth—actually it’s barely specific with details at all because the details are so explicit and shameful—it’s more specificity of LANGUAGE. Beautiful writing for writing’s sake.
But pretty obviously what has affected my writing most is that i moooostly read only straight white men writing about straight white men problems. See above. So my reading list might not be applicable/enjoyable for everyone. i would like to think i write like a straight white man. that’s my goal. my strategy is not to follow in their footsteps or to break glass ceilings but to eventually beat them at their own game. we’ll see how that goes.
25 notes
·
View notes
u need to take responsibility for that video and how it will live rent free in my brain for the next week. THE NEXT MONTH. THE NEXT YEAR??
they are literally so hot wtaf. both of them. i mean i know. but how. how are they. what.
surprising to me that CARLOS has more shirtless content than charles. very interesting.
i love how you synchronised the small things,, it must have taken you forever. thank you so so so much for your work,.
also that SONG is now stuck in my head. this is the second time something you've made has resulted in a song stuck in my head.
ly loads,, get some rest! <3333
-C
😅.
12 notes
·
View notes