#[ writing/creative burnout for tumblr ]

[raineandsky]

#109

When the doorbell rings, the hero’s kind of hoping it’s the pizza delivery guy.

They open the door to find, tragically, not the pizza delivery guy.

“Uh,” the villain says, “hi.”

The hero isn’t entirely sure what sequence of words would best fit this scenario. “Hi?” is the best they can do.

The villain shuffles on their feet awkwardly. A pause hangs between them, filled by the distant roar of the city beyond. “I thought you’d ask why I’m here,” they say eventually.

“I’m more concerned about how you’re here.”

A smile threatens the corners of the villain’s mouth. “We know where all you heroes live.” The smile fades into nothing again. “Or just I know, now, I guess.”

“Okay.” The hero squints at the villain uncertainly. “I’ll entertain you. Why the hell are you standing outside my door?”

“No one wants to be a villain anymore. Everyone quit.” The villain’s face contorts into some unreadable expression. “It’s just me.”

That doesn’t sound right. From the villain’s slight grimace, they know it too. “Everyone… quit villainy,” the hero repeats.

“There’s nothing to gain from it anymore. We had a vote and I was the only one who wanted to keep going.” The villain’s gaze dips to their hands as if they hold answers. “They left me everything, but… I can’t do it all on my own. So I’m turning myself in.”

The hero stares at the villain for a long moment. “Even [Supervillain].”

“Especially [Supervillain].”

The hero steps aside with a sigh. The villain looks like they’re being invited into a pit of wolves. “You want me to come into your house?”

“My handcuffs are in my living room cabinet and I don’t trust you standing out there. It’s cold, anyway.”

The villain closes the door behind them in an uncharacteristic show of politeness as the hero digs through their drawers. They’re wiping their shoes on the mat when the hero gets back, cuffs in hand.

The villain holds their hands out and the hero clicks the cuffs around their wrists. It’s almost too easy. The question is sitting on the tip of their tongue.

“What’s the catch?”

The villain doesn’t seem surprised by the question. They shrug halfheartedly. “Dunno.” They glance about for inspiration. “All the others have gone into hiding, I guess. You have me, but everyone else will probably evade you for the rest of time.”

“Much like they already do.” The hero manoeuvres them to the sofa in the living room, giving them a nudge to make them actually sit down. “You make it sound like you’ve been left in charge of the entire criminal organisation.”

The barking laugh the villain lets out is entirely fake. Too sharp, too short. “I have.”

“So villany will collapse without you.”

The villain shrugs again, the motion laden with effort. “Not like anyone else was willing to carry that burden—and I’m not either, hence why I’m, y’know…” They gesture vaguely at themself, in cuffs, in the hero’s living room.

The villain goes, villainy is defeated. No more villains, no more big crimes, no more heroes. Everything the agency has worked to be would collapse. The hero would be out of a job. It'd be over.

Yet here the villain is, giving everything up, taking the entirety of villainy down with them. The sole survivor of a shipwreck and wishing they’d gone down with the ship. A ship they don’t seem to realise the hero is on too.

The doorbell rings again, and the hero leaves the villain carefully settling on the sofa to answer it. They return with a giant grin on their face and a giant pizza box in their hands.

“Let’s worry about all this afterwards,” the hero says brightly. They brandish the box at the villain in the hopes of tempting them. “Want some?”

The tempting works; the villain reaches for a slice. “What a last meal.”

The hero sets the box on the coffee table as they flop back on the sofa. “I don’t know, [Villain],” they say with a smile, “I don’t think it has to be.”

[ask-the-prose]

Writing Burnout and Helpful Tips

Hi yall, it’s been wonderful seeing ask-the-prose posts going around writeblr and I’m so happy to see that some of these guides are helpful. If you have a specific topic you’d like me to cover, send in an ask!

What is burnout?

Burnout is incredibly common and nothing to be ashamed of! If you find you are too exhausted to do what you love, running out of ideas, or perhaps not wanting to do anything, you may be burned out. Burnout can pose a serious block to your writing, and it’s just not fun.

Burnout can happen when you’re stretching yourself too thin, spending more time and energy creating than taking in creativity, or not taking care of yourself the way you need.

Step 1: Put out the fire

One of the number one ways to fast-track your way to burnout is to forget to care for yourself. We’re writers! Sometimes we get in the zone, or maybe a little obsessed, and we forget to eat, hydrate, and maybe even put off sleep. But ignoring self-care is unsustainable.

We all see posts all over reminding us to hydrate, eat well, sleep, and even stretch, but these are genuinely great tips to remember when you’re not feeling well. I’d like to add a few ideas to try when you’re feeling down.

Exercise. Walk, run, play a sport, do anything that helps move your body, whatever you can do to help your blood flow, even if it’s just a few push-ups or a good stretch.

Find a new set of walls to stare at. I get in a rut going to the same places or staying home when I have nowhere to go. But hanging out at a coffee shop or cafe helps me often. It’s a chance to observe people, see new things, and get some sunlight. If you need to shake it up, try a new cafe!

Socialize. Sometimes burnout looks like loneliness. Socialize! Talk to a friend or family member, or make a new friend! New perspectives help.

Not all of these work for everybody, but they’re friendly suggestions to try when you’re feeling burnout coming on.

Step 2: Replenish your reserves

As creatives, we get stuck always wanting to create, but that’s not sustainable either! Creativity is not just an internal process, we need external stimulation to replenish our creative reserves. When you feel like you just can’t come up with ideas or anything new, maybe it’s time to read.

Reading can help, though I personally understand the struggle to read (and finish!) books. Start with short stories or novellas if you struggle to read novels. Read within the genre you’re trying to write, and then step out of your genre and try something new. You never know when inspiration will strike.

Watch movies, listen to new music, play a video game, or do anything that can give you a creative boost. Reading is critical, but learning about other mediums is just as important.

Step 3: Self-indulgence is key

You may find as you’re recovering from the burnout that your wip may just be what’s causing the problem. Ask yourself some important questions:

Am I writing for myself?

Am I writing something that I want to write?

If not, what do I want to write about?

Do I like what I’m writing, or do I feel like it’s what everyone wants to read?

Answer these questions for yourself, and if you find you don’t like those answers, take a look at your project and see what you can or want to change. Remember, if it’s not fun and it’s not what you want, then it might not be worth it.

Take what you need, leave what you don’t

As always, this guide is meant to be helpful, and as with all writing advice, it’s entirely subjective. I believe these tips work because they worked for me. But if you find that something isn’t helping, leave it! Move on or adjust to what you as an individual need to recover from your burnout.

Remember that no writing is ever wasted and that your writing matters. We need your voice too!

– Indy

[bibisbooktalk]

Being a writer and not knowing what to write or where to start sucks. I want to make a living out of writing. It's been my dream since I was a child to become a published author. My style and writing preferences have changed through the years. I used to write more than I do now. I barely even open a book to read anymore.

I'm never happy about any ideas I get, never satisfied with anything I come up with, and I always end up stuck somewhere in the plotting stage. I wrote fanfictions from 2020 to 2022. I stopped when I found out all of my stories had been re-published in different fanfiction websites without my consent.

That didn't stear my dream, though, didn't change what I wanted. It encouraged me to start working more on my original work rather than fanfiction. However, my writing hasn't come smoothly since my days as a fanfic writer. My ideas were more frequent then, and I would spend hours and sleepless nights writing. Now I'm stuck staring at a blank page, trying to figure out what I want to achieve as a writer. Do I want to write fantasy or romance, YA or adult fiction. Do I want to make vampire novels my trademark or do I want to write fae romance.

How do I write about what I don't know? I lack a community where I can talk about my work, yet I am also afraid to share my ideas and find myself betrayed. Writing is more than just words on paper, yet writing has become meaningless words to me.

I'm pointlessly attempting to string sentences together, to create something worth it, something good, something groundbreaking, yet the words don't come, and nothing seems special enough or interesting enough. First drafts aren't meant to be good, but I feel like I'm running out of time. I can't even write a prologue.

"Start in the middle.", "Start with the action." But nothing comes to me. It is frustrating to be a writer and have no creativity at all. I've been imprisoned in this "writer's block" since 2022. So, what do I do? How do I figure out my story? How do I take control of the narrative? How can I love writing the way I used to again?

Novel writing will never stop being my dream, and I refuse to give up even through this endless fog. However, it doesn't stop me from wondering if I'm wasting my time. If writing was just once a brief hyperfixation—a dream never meant to be.

[terriblesoup]

The reality of Creative Burnout

It's been a while since I've last written anything, and it's been bothering me so when you read this and you picture me as a karen holding her 10 am red wine and with a child-hating fueled anger complaining about the bird noise in her backyard, then you've done me justice that's exactly how I feel and look.

1. Understanding creative burnout: More than just exhaustion

When we talk about burnout in general, it is mostly a consequence of overwhelming tasks on a monotonous routine basis which causes fatigue that is both emotional and physical. Creative burnout is more tied to the emotional and intellectual demands of an artist. It deeply affects the ability to generate new ideas or feeling any joy in one's craft.

And if you've been there,-and I am most certain you have been- you know it's not just being a little tired or feeling like taking a long nap. It’s that special kind of exhaustion where your brain feels like a dried-out sponge someone left in the sun for three weeks.

And when your ideas evaporate faster than your morning coffee and every attempt to create something feels like pulling your own teeth, your brain has never been this loud and blank at the same time. You know it's time to put down your pen and breathe because there's more to it than you being an art failure ( you're not).

And I'll tell you why it's happening to you and not others: because creative work is like putting your soul on display, and when it doesn’t come out perfect, it feels personal. Add to that deadlines, the pressure to innovate, and the charming little voice of self-doubt, and you’ve got the perfect recipe for burnout stew. Plus, let’s be real—most of us work alone. There’s no office buddy to say, “Hey, it’s fine, go take a walk.” Nope, it’s just you and the void, staring each other down.

2. The triggers of creative burnout: Pressure, Perfectionism, and Pace

It doesn’t happen because you’re lazy, unmotivated, or bad at your job. It happens because the world-or your own brain-has decided you need to function like a creativity vending machine. Insert a deadline, press a button, and voilà: a masterpiece pops out. Spoiler alert: it doesn’t work like that.

If you've hit our common wall, it's probably because of one or all the three usually culprits :

High expectations:

The weight of expectations is crushing, especially when you’re the one piling it on yourself.

“Just be better than last time,” you think. Great. Now every project feels like a fight to prove your worth, to everyone, including yourself. Because apparently, creating something good isn’t enough anymore-it has to be perfect. No pressure, though <3.

Tight deadlines (because,duh, genius happens overnight, wait what do you mean you can't? You're fired)

There’s nothing like a deadline to drain the soul out of your work. The clock starts ticking, and suddenly you’re not making art; you’re cranking out products. Deadlines kill spontaneity. They don’t care if you’re inspired or running on fumes.

Let’s be real,when was the last time a creative deadline felt reasonable? It’s always,“Can you have this by yesterday?” Forget brilliance. You’re lucky if you can slap something together that doesn’t embarrass you.

Overworking (this is on you):

“I’ll stop after this one thing.” you won’t! One more thing turns into an all-nighter, which turns into a month of over-caffeinated tunnel vision. The grind never ends because we’ve convinced ourselves that rest is a luxury instead of a necessity.

Working nonstop doesn’t make you a genius. It makes you tired. But sure, keep skipping meals, ignoring friends, and convincing yourself that burnout is just “part of the process.” That always ends well.

3. How burnout affects the creative process: Loss of inspiration and drive

For writers, burnout often looks like the dreaded block. You stare at the page, but the words don’t come. Your once-flowing ideas now feel like trying to pull water from a stone. Artists might find themselves detached from their work, going through the motions with no emotional connection to the piece. Musicians might start to dread performing, feeling overwhelmed by anxiety instead of joy. Whatever the medium, the result is the same: you feel stuck, uninspired, and utterly out of sync with your craft.

The first wave of burnout is frustration. You know you’re capable of more. You remember what it felt like to be in the zone, to create something that lit you up inside. But now, every attempt feels like wading through molasses. The ideas don’t come, or worse, they feel hollow and forced. And when your work doesn’t meet your own standards, the frustration multiplies.

Oh look over there! It's the heaping side of guilt getting closer. You feel like a failure because you’re not creating-or not creating enough-and the shame can be paralyzing. What’s worse is knowing that your creative block isn’t from a lack of talent or skill but sheer exhaustion. You’re stuck in a loop: can’t create because you’re burned out, and can’t shake the burnout because you feel too guilty to rest.

Then it messes with your relationship to your work. You might start to resent the thing you once loved because now it feels like an obligation. Every project feels like a chore, and the joy that once fueled your creativity is nowhere to be found.

The final gut punch of burnout is the loss of drive. That innate desire to create, to express yourself, to bring something new into the world-it’s gone. Or at least, it’s hiding under a mountain of fatigue, frustration, and guilt. Without that drive, even the idea of creating can feel overwhelming.

But here’s the thing: burnout isn’t permanent. It’s a signal-not that you’re broken, but that you’ve been running too hard for too long. The only way back is through rest, reflection, and reminding yourself why you started in the first place. Creativity isn’t something you can force, and burnout isn’t something you can hustle your way out of. Sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is stop.

4. Breaking the cycle: coping mechanisms for recovering from burnout

Burnout recovery isn’t a sprint-it’s a messy, sometimes uncomfortable process. But it’s possible.

Take intentional breaks

No no, not doom-scrolling on your phone or calling it “relaxation” while secretly stressing about unfinished projects. I’m talking real breaks, time spent doing things that genuinely recharge you. Go for a walk, binge that guilty pleasure show without shame, or sit outside and stare at trees like you’re auditioning for a meditation app. The point is to stop trying to be productive for a little while.

Reconnect with your passion

Burnout tends to make your creative passion feel like a chore. To fix that, strip away all the pressure. Draw just for fun. Write nonsense that no one will ever see. Try something new and low-stakes, like pottery or finger painting (yes, finger painting, I like doing makeup to recharge, it requires no thinking). Remember why you started creating in the first place, back when it wasn’t about deadlines or expectations.

Set boundaries like your life depends on It

Because, honestly? It kind of does. Start saying “no” to things that drain you-unreasonable clients, soul-sucking projects, or your own impossible standards. Tell people (and yourself) that your time and energy are finite resources. It’s not selfish; it’s survival.

Seek professional help

Sometimes, burnout runs deeper than “needing a break.” If you’re overwhelmed by guilt, anxiety, or hopelessness, a therapist can help you sort through the emotional mess and build healthier coping mechanisms. Therapy isn’t a last resort; it’s a tool for getting your creative spark back without setting yourself on fire in the process.

Practice self-compassion

This is the hardest one because we’re our own worst critics. But here’s the truth: you’re allowed to step back. You’re allowed to rest. You don’t have to earn your worth through endless creation. Burnout isn’t a personal failure-it’s a sign that you’ve been pushing too hard for too long. Treat yourself with the kindness you’d offer a struggling friend ( and I knoooowww y'all have a problem practicing your own advice, I just know.)

Redefine success

Let go of the idea that you need to be constantly producing to be “successful.” Your worth isn’t tied to how much you create or how perfect it is. Focus on the journey, not the output. Celebrate the small wins, even if they’re as simple as writing one paragraph or sketching a single line( took me two weeks to write this blog btw, I am taking that small win and winning it all over the place).

5. The myths of creative burnout: Overcoming society’s expectations of “nonstop productivity”

Real creatives never run out of ideas

Ever heard someone say, “If you’re a real writer/painter/musician, the ideas will always flow”? Yeah, no. Creativity isn’t a bottomless well; it’s more like a battery that drains with use. And guess what? Batteries need to be recharged. Running out of ideas isn’t a sign you’re a fraud—it’s a sign you’re human. Even the greats had dry spells (Vincent van Gogh painted only about 900 masterpieces; what a slacker, right?).

Productivity equals success

Our society worships the grind. If you’re not constantly producing, you’re seen as lazy or unmotivated. Churning out work nonstop doesn’t guarantee quality-or fulfillment. It guarantees exhaustion. Creativity thrives on space, experimentation, and, yes, sometimes doing absolutely nothing. Success isn’t about how much you produce; it’s about creating something meaningful, even if it takes time.

Burnout means you’re weak

Feeling burnt out doesn’t mean you lack resilience or passion. It means you’ve been pushed (or pushed yourself) too far. Society likes to frame burnout as a personal failure, but it’s often the result of external pressures.

6. Case studies of famous creatives who Struggled with Burnout (because I know you like comparing yourselves to celebrities level of accomplishments)

- Sylvia Plath: The weight of perfectionism

Sylvia Plath was a literary genius, but her pursuit of perfection left her emotionally drained. Known for her meticulous writing process, she placed immense pressure on herself to produce work of extraordinary quality. The weight of expectations-both external and internal-fueled her creativity but also contributed to her burnout.

-Vincent van Gogh: Isolation and emotional strain

Van Gogh’s artistry was inseparable from his emotional vulnerability. Living in near poverty and estranged from much of society, he worked obsessively, creating over 2,000 artworks in a decade. His intense drive often led to physical and mental collapse, and his letters to his brother, Theo, reveal his feelings of inadequacy and despair.

- Virginia Woolf: The strain of genius

Virginia Woolf balanced brilliance with fragility. Her modernist works, like Mrs. Dalloway and To the Lighthouse, revolutionized storytelling, but the intense effort to break traditional literary molds took a toll. She struggled with depressive episodes exacerbated by creative pressure and societal constraints placed on women writers of her era.

These geniuses remind us that brilliance often comes at a cost when unbalanced by rest or self-care. They teach us the importance of acknowledging limits, seeking support ( for the love of God and everything good, please do), and that success isn’t about sacrificing yourself for art; it’s about sustaining a process that brings joy and meaning.

7. Burnout as a catalyst for growth: turning struggles into strength

Our beast (I wonder if there's a hot drawing of the burnout beast somewhere on the internet) strips everything down to the bare essentials. It asks uncomfortable but necessary questions:

“Why am I doing this?”

“What do I really want to create?”

“Am I living my life, or just existing for my work?”

And I know these questions can feel overwhelming, but they’re also the foundation for growth. Many creatives emerge from burnout with a clearer sense of purpose, focusing on what truly matters instead of chasing every expectation or opportunity.

It can also add depth to your work. The frustration, exhaustion, and rebuilding process give you stories to tell, emotions to convey, and empathy for others who struggle. In a way, burnout teaches you not only how to survive but how to thrive (slay...?).

Final thought:

So, yeah, burnout sucks. It's like that awful, ugly detox you didn't sign up for but apparently needed. But hey, if you're lucky enough to survive it, maybe you'll come out the other side a little more self-aware, with healthier boundaries, and maybe even a fresh perspective on what it means to create. Or, you know, you'll just figure out how to keep the chaos at bay long enough to finish that project you’ve been avoiding. Either way, just remember: it's totally fine to take a step back-because if you burn yourself out enough, you'll eventually be forced to. And, funnily enough, that's when you might just make your best stuff.

I've made this blog because I wanted to talk about censorship in political aspects and all that but I've never felt a heavier subject than it, I do not understand why I couldn't do it. I still can't find myself writing about it even though I've already planned the key points and all that baggage. Well anyway, I hope you enjoyed this "light-hearted" subject.

[dream-in-hearts]

Operating Table

Tell me again how much I’m doing wrong

How I stay stuck in one place

Even when I accomplish something big

Remind me again

How I’m always late

And look as depressed and anxious

As I feel

I care

Regardless of how much or little

I show and tell it.

I refuse to be a product or puppet

But I’m fine!

Medicated and sometimes motivated

And sometimes wish I’d get a little sick

Or fall into a coma

So I could die without death’s permanence

Tell me again how I should’ve spoken up sooner

How I need to believe in myself enough

To take risks

To make *everybody* proud

Even when it comes at the expense

Of prioritizing my own happiness

Of not rushing anything important

Keep me in a state

Of perpetual burnout

Make me feel like an underachiever

No matter how hard I work

Put me on a rollercoaster pedestal

Picking me up and putting me down

Never gently

The record spinning

Then scratching on a broken loop

Encourage me to lose my empathy

Since it gets in the way

Of your twisted little fantasies

Sure

I’ll just lose all of my empathy for *you*

And leave you in the dust

When I come back from the dead

For the thousandth time.

That’s the crux of this crucifixion.

[byoldervine]

How do I avoid getting burnout with my writing?

Okay, so first we have to consider what burnout means to us; the way I define it is when something that’s meant to be fun starts feeling more like a chore than something you can get enjoyment out of, but maybe you define it in a different way

For me personally, I try to take a break when that burnout feeling starts to hit, then come back to the project later, but if the feeling is consistent then I back out indefinitely until I’m next able to enjoy it. A huge part of avoiding full-on burnout is listening to yourself and adjusting yourself accordingly to avoid making it worse. Think of it like wearing new shoes; they hurt to walk around in for too long, so you have to take them off and have a rest at some point soon or else you’ll get blisters and be in pain even when the shoes are off

As such, we need to know our limits; I write 1000 words per week as my writing goal, and of course I can go over that if I’m in the mind to. While it means I make consistent progress since I’ve got a minimum amount of words coming in every week guaranteed, it also isn’t too much to do and it gives me plenty of time to do it and then wind down before the next time. There’s enough breathing room between sessions that I don’t get too wiped out on it, and I can split it into mini sessions throughout the week if I so choose. Of course, you might do it differently, and I’ll always encourage experimenting to see what works best for you personally

From there, it’s just doing your best to motivate and inspire yourself to keep yourself excited and in the zone

[a-midnight-luna]

I experienced a creative burnout a few days ago. Here's my advice.

First, remember to take breaks. Your mind needs time to lay down and "regenerate" creativity. If you push it to the limit without breaks, it will start malfunctioning like a broken machine.

Second: it is okay to do nothing if you feel like doing nothing. I know the outside world can be demanding and fast, but people need rest and sometimes that rest might mean doing nothing for a couple of hours. Our minds and bodies have the ability to heal themselves if we give them enough time, so doing nothing sometimes might actually be the right answer.

Third: let go of control. It is easier said than done, I know, but trust me when I tell you that letting go of control of some things weighing you down is the best way to get over burnout. If you stop stressing over something that doesn't need that much attention, you'll feel like you lift a weight from your shoulders and are finally able to breathe, and you'll be able to go back to your normal life with a fresh vision, and are able to focus on the important things again.

Remember: our minds are not machines that work all the time without resting. People need sleep. People need leisure time and have fun and rest. Because that's the balance of life. There's no light without darkness and there's no day without night.

So let your mind rest. Let your body rest. Take some time off and do nothing. In the end, it will be like letting a wound heal itself just by letting the cells and the nature of the body do their job without interfering, knowing they'll grow back again.

[bog-teeth]

this comic has no art - 11.11.2024

[astraydestiny]

I feel so bad for my Main Character

I just wanna cradle him in my arms and tell him everythings going to be alright, even though it wont and its just going to get worse. I want him to know that there are people out there would do love him, and that in the midst of all this chaos, there is order in him somewhere. That nothing that happened to him was his fault. GOD I FEEL SO BAD. When ur in a bad place and u reflect ur emotions into your writing, well, thats how you know its bad.

(they will steal ur organs)

[selenekallanwriter]

Every single day

[sagessge]

Silent expectations

I feel the perishing world

On my shoulders

The moment I hear the voice

Of silent expectations

Yet the praise was never heard

I hate the sky,I say

When I look back and see a pack

Expecting me to open my wings

Their eyes acting as dumbles

Down fell I!

On the ground

With ever so many wounds

As I lie on the ground

I could not fall anymore!

The fear was gone!

And I hear them screaming

Birds are meant to fly!

But what I want to be here on the ground?

What if I want to feel the sun on my chest?

And watch the winter freeze me to death?

What if I want to just wait

For the demise to arrive?

What if without even living and flying

I wish to die?

So please,take the flashlight away!

Your silent expectations slay me

Again and again

Every one of yours

"Ofcourse,this was inevitable"

Causes me to seep into the ground

More and more

I gave it all

My blood,sweat and tears

'Tis not gifted

'Tis not inevitable

And I don't fly

What if I can't fly?

Why if I can't turn?

What if they all view

How big of a loser I am?

How afraid I am?

My eyes speak something my lips can't utter

Please! Please! Please!

For once in my life

Let me be mediocre

Let me be me without any expectations

And let me be content

And fly and rest on my own terms

Please,just for once

[raineandsky]

#102

tw: abuse, threats, knives

The superhero barely sleeps anymore, but he can’t afford to. His mind is always haunted by one question: where has the hero gone?

His assistant lingers on the threshold to his office while he stares blankly at the table. She clears her throat when he shows no sign of acknowledging her. She holds a little envelope out to him when he glances up, his name written on the front in glittering cursive.

He reads the contents. Rereads. Looks to his assistant for answers. Receives none. Stares back down at the words on the little note in front of him.

“Well,” he says flatly, “I suppose I best go if we want the city to stay intact.”

-

The supervillain answers the door with a winning smile and a shocking amount of hospitality. 

“I’m so glad you made it,” he says brightly. He ushers the superhero into what can only be described as a mansion. Crime clearly pays well—or he likes to pretend it does. Who knows how he came into a house like this.

The supervillain sets the superhero down in an extravagant dining hall. Servants line the room, practically invisible in the shadows, almost as much of the furniture as the table and chairs in the middle of the room. Most of them have their eyes pointed to the floor.

The supervillain settles in the chair opposite and motions for one of the servants to step forward with a wine decanter. They pour it out agonisingly slowly, their focus honed in on the glass, before skirting around the table to do the same for the superhero.

The superhero startles. “Oh, there’s no need—”

“Nonsense!” the supervillain gestures for the servant to continue. “You’re my guest. Have a drink, please.”

The wine is poured. The servant steps back, their gaze flitting to the supervillain, and with the slightest nod of his head they retreat back into the shadows.

The superhero watches them go, catching the eye of one of the other servants standing on the outskirts of the room. It catches him off guard slightly—he could’ve sworn they were all staring at the floor—but after a moment to study their face he has to hold down a choked gasp.

That’s the hero. The hero he’s spent endless days searching for. The hero that disappeared off the face of the earth, who seemed to just cease to exist. The hero’s staring back at him like they’re equally stunned to see him here, their eyes wide and their jaw slack.

The quiet goes on too long. The supervillain twists in his chair to glance at whatever’s caught the superhero’s interest.

“Ah,” he says shortly. The single word seems to snap the hero out of it, their gaze immediately snapping back down to the ground. “Is my servant here bothering you?”

“You—” You invited me here on purpose. The superhero can’t think of words outraged enough. They’ve been here the whole time. “How dare you—”

“[Hero],” the supervillain says lightly. “Come here.”

The hero shares a worried glance with the servants next to them before slowly stepping towards him. They pause just behind his chair, their head bowed—out of fear or respect, it’s not obvious. “Sir?”

The villain holds his hand up to them expectantly. “Give me your hand.”

The hero spares a glance at the superhero. “B-But sir, our guest—”

“Your hand, [Hero].”

They hesitate, their breath uneven. Then they slowly, slowly put their hand in the supervillain’s.

The supervillain moves faster than the superhero can react. He slams their palm down against the table, his grip deathly tight on their wrist. A steak knife sits in his other hand, the tip poised over the back of the hero’s hand.

The superhero’s on his feet in an instant. The hero desperately tries to pull away, but the supervillain’s grip on them is vice-like.

“Now,” he says smoothly, “what have I said about manners?”

“[Supervillain],” the superhero tries.

“Haven’t I taught you anything?”

“I– I’m sorry.” It comes out of the hero’s mouth like a knee-jerk reaction, like it’s been said a million times before. “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again—”

The supervillain twists the knife testily against their skin. Something of a strangled sob tears from the hero’s throat. “Staring is rude, [Hero].”

“I– I know, I’m so sorry—”

“[Supervillain],” the superhero snaps with all the authority he can muster. “Stop.”

“I deal with my servants how I please, [Superhero].” The supervillain’s gaze pulls up to him lazily.  “This is my domain, not yours.”

But he thankfully lets go of the hero. They pull back nervously fast, their hands cupped over each other protectively. The supervillain glances back at them as they attempt to meld back into the shadows. “Go downstairs, [Hero],” he says flatly. “We will discuss this incident later.”

The hero’s gaze snaps back to him like he just asked them to walk into hell itself. “Down– Downstairs?”

“Don’t make me repeat my instructions twice, [Hero]. You know this.”

Their eyes flit between the supervillain and the superhero for a moment. Then they dip into a short bow, and with a slightly choked “sir,” they practically bolt from the room.

A couple of the servants behind the supervillain exchange whispers and sorrowful glances.

“I must apologise,” the supervillain says with an innocent sigh. “I thought I’d trained my servants better than that. I assure you such behaviour will be dealt with.”

The superhero’s still on his feet. “Release them immediately.”

The supervillain idly swills the wine for a second. “Or what?”

“The agency will not stand for this.” The superhero clenches his fists at his sides. “I will not stand for this.”

“Well,” the supervillain drawls, “you can have them back when I’m dead.” The supervillain sets his glass on the table a little too hard. “This has been a wonderful evening, [Superhero]. Now get out.”

-

It takes 20 minutes to get back to the agency, and by then the superhero has a half-formed plan in his head and a burning cry for vengeance.

When he’s dead. So be it.

[echosandroses]

Adult life means you get to have no life

[poetryorchard]

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[purplereadingenthusiast]

    Alador builds. He experiments. He tinkers. Day after day he spends in his lab, only leaving for food and bathroom breaks, plus the occasional promotion show. At this point, he even sleeps down there, long after his team—now only comprised of eight other people—has gone home. It’s easier that way, he reasons, with Odalia constantly requiring him to work; this way he never has to leave, never has to bear her reprimands that drain him as much as his never-ending work schedule. He feels like one of the abomatons he spends all his time creating, going through the motions of his monotonous, day-to-day life robotically as if his body and mind are comprised of goop and metal materials.

    Sometimes, when he’s on a rare break and doesn’t know what to do with himself, he thinks about his younger self, and how excited and passionate he was about abominations and mechanics. How he was rarely spotted without his goggles, inspecting or creating or testing something, driven by curiosity. Sometimes Alador wonders how his younger self would react to what he’s turned into now, how the light and laughter that was his eyes is hidden behind dullness and dark eye bags. How would he explain it to himself, if he asked?

    He always brushes the thought away as soon as it comes. It’s silly to reminisce on the past, he tells himself. There’s no point of pondering what could have happened, because it didn’t happen and it never will. He knows he will likely stay this way his whole life, or as long as he stays with Odalia, which is essentially the same thing. He can’t leave. She needs him as much as he needs her, and it’s easier to continue living this way than to needlessly fight it and somehow make it worse for himself.

    His palisman, Patches, squeaks at him, breaking him out of his thoughts and scurrying towards the counter, where his newest project lies in wait. Alador sighs from deep in his chest, tiredness causing his whole body to protest as he walks over to the counter, giving Patches an ear scratch and putting his goggles on.

    Once again, Alador is little more than a machine.

[soulverymuchdead]

Do You Finally Feel Warm?

She'd burn all night, desperately trying to offer warmth to those who wouldn't even notice the ash she'd become by morning. Forced into a life of suffering, their greed stoked the flames that consumed her, leaving only a cold, empty spirit.