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#i'm so tired of this narrative

druid-for-hire · 4 months

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[images ID: three images of a comic titled "one must imagine sisyphus happy" by druid-for-hire. it is a visual narrative beginning with someone with wrist pain (depicted by bright orange nerves) working at a drafting table. the reader is shown the same wrist as the person uses it for many everyday tasks such as carrying a grocery basket, pushing elevator buttons, typing, and doing dishes, until the pain dissolves all the panels into chaos. the person then performs several physical therapy exercises until the pain subsides. they sit back down at a desk with their laptop, sigh, and begin typing. a small spark of pain reappears. end id]

a fun little piece i made during the semester and submitted into our school comic anthology! (which you can buy at the Static Fish table at MoCCAFest in NYC ;] ). it's about artists and injury

#comic art #comics #original comic #chronic pain #carpal tunnel #tendonitis #my art #original #edit: what a delightful surprise to see this take off #this was made for class on very low fuel and very few thoughts and late at night and exhausted #the prompt was just a wordless narrative essay. three pages. and i had nothing and no ideas #and my head hurt and i was too tired to think about doing any of the like. research and mind mapping and ideating i'd do otherwise #but my arm hurt #so i decided to do a thing about arm hurty #i'm surprised to see so many people finding it resonating with them #but then again i shouldn't be. the universal lies in the specific #i should make more things about smaller stuff

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nikkoliferous · 8 months

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after reading the one hundred and one millionth inane quote about how Loki is such a pRiViLeGeD pRiNcE while Sylvie is just a poor baby who had no real childhood and had to learn to fend for herself from a young age, I feel the need to point out that even the ONE thing we know about Sylvie's past, the thing that's supposed to be her mAjOr tRaUmA and set her apart from him somehow, was literally stolen from Loki.

this is how Tom described Loki's experience post-suicide attempt back in the day while doing press for Avengers:

“I think he went, like with everything else, to a sort of… it was just like, the worst place imaginable. I think he went to all of the darkest recesses of the universe. I’m sure he had a brush with—several brushes with death. I think he ran into the shadiest characters you can find in the Nine Realms. I think he had to rely on his wits to protect himself. It was really, really, really unpleasant, I think. I don’t have any frame of reference for that, except for imagining what it might be like to be kidnapped by a terrorist or something and have to survive a very, very frightening and precarious existence. But whatever it was, it was important when Loki came back for The Avengers, that whatever compassion he had left was absolutely shriveled to a minimum because of the experience that he had. Harrowing, I think, and scarring for life—in a way that Thor and Odin and Frigga find very, very difficult to understand.” [source]

and now the show pretends that Loki teamed up with Thanos completely of his own will, even though Marvel had JUST confirmed that the sceptre was influencing him throughout Avengers, and they hand that traumatic backstory that was Loki's off to their precious OC.

#i'm so tired of talking about this stupid show #i really just want to forget it even exists #but i feel like this is an aspect of the show (and the narrative being pushed relentlessly in interviews)#that doesn't get talked about much if at all #we talk about her stealing his clothes and his spotlight and his history of trauma generally-speaking #but even the *specifics* of her trauma (that's allegedly soooo much worse than loki's!)#were literally copy/pasted from him #it's pathetic and insulting and i will evidently die mad about it #into the larryverse #loki (2021)#loki tv series #sylvie laufeydottir #mcu salt

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hamartia-grander · 7 months

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I'm a real tragedy enjoyer but Luis's death is no longer narratively enjoyable for me, now it just feels like an insult. I'm tired of characters having to die to be "redeemed". It's not their death that is the redemption, it's the fact that they were willing to die in the first place; it's the intent of sacrifice. I much prefer a narrative where Luis survives and is forced to every day atone for his past mistakes. I much prefer when characters don't get the respite of death, when they have to live with their demons, when they have to face their past and maintain their growth. And it's especially maddening when the only reason Luis dies is because he did in the original. They'll change his character so much to give him substance but they won't change his fate? I don't want that.

#Rant I guess. Idk the more I think about Luis's death the more I realise why it's never really satisfied me narratively #resident evil #Luis Serra #Luis Serra Navarro #Resident evil 4 remake #Resident evil 4 #Re4 #Re4 remake #Re4r #Luis Babygirl Serra #Like. One of the things I love so much about star wars the last jedi. Besides it being the best SW movie. Is that Finn doesn't die.#He is so ready to sacrifice himself and that's a big significance to his character development. But he doesn't. Die.#Because it's not death that redeems you it's the intent of sacrifice in the first place #If someone wasn't willing to die for a cause and they did that doesn't make them a martyr that doesn't mean they're redeemed #Look at kylo ren! Fuck that guy! He wasn't redeemed at all! Yet he died #Idk I'm just. I'm just tired of Luis's death not being given more thought like the rest of his character was #At first I was like ah yes I love the tragedy of it but now I'm just tired

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factorialsotherfandoms · 5 months

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TW: panic attack, non-graphic self harm, reckless behaviour, fear of drowning

This is like... a bit 5K of Pac and Philza actually bonding for once...

Fear claws into Pac's heart just as easily as his fingernails dig into his palms. There's nothing wrong, objectively there's nothing wrong, but he's been alone all day. It's not at all like working with Mike; he's been trying to decorate the Favela, but his breath keeps catching and his thoughts keep stopping.

He can hear the fountain beneath the warpstone, and he wants it to /stop/.

He knows anxiety now, he knows it, he knows this is what it is, and when Fit found the blood in Chume Labs and the empty graves he made him promise to call him if it happened again. It's happening now, Pac can feel it building, but there's nobody awake. He checks it again, and still it's only him.

So he does the thing he does next best. He holds his breath and he thinks of nothing and he builds. More trees, more ponds, more fountains - anything and everything he can think of. Give the Redeemer a sombrero, then think better of it half way through and take it down. Start returfing the football field, only to decide to put it back because making the goals muddy is just ugly. Hang up more banners, pull them down, add a bit to the fences, swap them for iron, then concrete.

Breathe in, breathe out, there's nothing wrong it's just anxiety.

(But it is wrong, everything is wrong, the back of his brain where Mike sits is empty, not just asleep but empty, torn away and - )

Mike's in the Order hospital, Pac reminds himself, and begins to walk that way.

( - and there are eyes at his back, ready to take him again and - )

Pac forgets to breathe. He drops to his knees in the middle of the street, and scrabbled his hands in the dirt.

Pac checks the communicator again. There's a few more people awake, but... No Fit, no Tubbo, no Mike, no Bagi or Forever... Of the handful of people, the one he knows best if Philza - and while he's happily looked after the man's children, and he's been quite happy to chat or fight together in the past... Philza Minecraft is a legend, and he's never really spoken much without Fit there as a buffer.

But the other option is staying here alone, and he promised Fit that if he started feeling like this again he'd ask someone for company.

He takes a deep breath, and sends a message.

You whisper to Ph1LzA: Can I visit?

As soon as he hits send, Pac slams it shut. He pushes it against his head, shuddering while curled up in a ball. He clings to the communicator, his link to the outside, so hard it leaves indents in his skin.

"It's okay," he whispers to himself. "It's okay, you're okay, there's nobody here to watch you."

It doesn't help; he tries it anyway.

The seconds drag on into minutes, and Pac's fears overwhelm even his attempts to comfort himself.

"You're okay, you're okay, you're safe," he promises himself, even as he claws at his knees, at his face, at his hair and at the floor - anything he can reach to force himself to remember his place.

He hums songs he loves, shuts his eyes and tries to dance along.

He slams hands over his mouth and freezes when he tries.

Too loud, too loud, they'll find you - quiet, quiet, quiet as a mouse and quieter still. Hide amongst the rats, and hope nobody spots you curled up there...

The communicator pings.

In a scramble Pac pulls the lid open, shaking fingers quickly clicking him through to the correct screen.

Ph1LzA whispers to you: sorry m8, missed the message

Ph1LzA whispers to you: still need something or you get it sorted?

What does Pac say? The loneliness is getting to him and the walls are caving in and he can feel something watching from inside his spine? That Mike is gone and he's remembering a /before/ he wants to forget, He can't say that, he really can't.

But what sounds like a normal response which might get him a conversation...

With shaking hands he types whatever comes to mind.

You whisper to Ph1LzA: I am just missing Fit

... Not that. That absolutely does not sound like a request for company.

This time Philza's reply does not take nearly as long, though still longer than anyone else Pac ever messages.

Ph1LzA whispers to you: yeah?

Ph1LzA whispers to you: you want some company? I can put down a sharestone

Pac's heart settles back into place - maybe slightly too high still, but far closer. He didn't mess it up too badly - maybe English is just like that - he didn't even have to ask again.

You whisper to Ph1LzA: please.

It's another minute or two for Pac's anxiety to build and him to cling to the communicator before he recieves a reply.

Ph1LzA whispers to you: red sharestone, name should be obvious

You whisper to Ph1LzA: obrigado

Ph1LzA whispers to you: you're good

There's definitely some emotion to reading those words; Pac pushes it aside, and grabs his warpstone. Moving to the main warpstone for the warehouse seems like too much, so he simply sends himself to spawn.

Only there does he pick himself up, activating the red sharestone. It takes a few scrolls to find the new option, but once he does it earns a small laugh. He selects it, and lets his body be pulled through space.

Where he arrives is cold, deep snow all around, and an icy ocean before him. Pac tugs his sleeves down over his hands, and looks around.

Whereever Philza is, he isn't immediately obvious.

"Philza?" he calls. "Felipe?"

There's a splash as Philza trident-jumps out of the ocean, his paraglider flipping open at the zenith and allowing him to drift safely down to the ice. Pac watches him drift down, the water dripping off him freezing as it falls.

"Hey," Philza calls, once back in voice range, arm moving as though to wave before suddenly remembering he needs to hold the paraglider. "Sorry about that; spotted another jelly and had to get it before it ran off."

Pac waves him off, "it's okay, it's okay, do you need any help?"

Philza squints at Pac a moment, and Pac squirms beneath it. After a moment, though, he just shrugs, "just hunting for rainbow jelly."

"Rainbow jelly?"

"Like the French use to make themselves all rainbow," Philza grins a bit. "You can use it to make glass like that, too. Chayanne wanted some, so..."

Pac thinks of the children, hurting and asleep and under the Federation's "care", the only guarantees of their safety the ability to visit, and the knowledge the Federation knows what is coming if harm comes for their children.

"For Chayanne?" He asks. "I'll help."

"Feel free to hang onto it - if you don't use it, he'll appreciate the gift when he wakes up."

When, not if, even if Pac can see Philza hesitates too.

With that confidence and the thought of their children, Pac doesn't even consider before throwing himself into the water. Behind him he hears the somewhat distorted sound of Philza laughing, and the man throwing himself in after.

Pac spots a couple of the comb jellies, and kicks off towards them. Philza seems to see another group, as he takes another route.

Hunting animals for their innards is one of the few times that sweeping edge is worth it on this island, and so Pac takes out his sword. It only takes a hit to take out the jellies, small as they are, and then Pac just has to scoop up their remains. From there he spots another - deeper - and swims after it. And another, and another - Pac loses himself to the chore, simply collecting jelly for the happiness of a child.

He thinks he's finally calmed down, when he spots another in a cave. Pac doesn't even think about it as he dives in after - but very quickly, it gets very dark.

Too dark.

He tries to ignore it, to push through and find the jelly even as memories start to loom and the dark closes in.

Breathe in, breathe out, remind yourself your helmet is in place and with that much Aqua Affinity you're fine.

It's not the underwater prison again, it's not, it's not.

Just find the jelly and get out...

On instinct he reaches out for Mike, and finds nothing.

Nothing.

Mike? What happened to Mike?

The most frustrating thing is always that he knows, he remembers, but in the dark and the wet and the unnatural silence it doesn't matter. His breathing picks up, and he twists and he turns, looking - screaming - for Mike.

Rationally, he knows he's lightheaded because hes hyperventilating. But in his heart, in his fear, it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter, it doesn't change anything because he's alone in the wet and the dark and he /can't do this anyone/.

He wants Mike, he wants Mike, he wants Fit and he wants Mike.

Where is Mike, why can't he reach him, where is he where is he why can't he feel him in his mind?!

He's screaming for them, he thinks, even as tears stream down his face and he twists in the water. By now he's helplessly lost, not even able to find the exit he cane in by. Whatever light there was is gone, and he doesn't even quite remember why he's here.

He twists and he fights, trying to fend off hands that aren't there - only to get his leg twisted up in the seaweed and somehow everything is even worse and worse and worse. He tugs and tugs, but the seaweed grasps tighter - he sees dark prison walls overlaying dark, broken caves, and he sobs as he realises he is going to die here.

He screams again and wonders how he still has air; something responds this time, and he begs it for bitter, screaming help.

A small light he cannot focus on, and hands find their way to his leg. In a panic he twists, kicks, fights - nothing, nothing, nothing can touch him - it's worse than the seaweed, to be grabbed by a hand.

"Shit, Pac," a familiar voice calls, an odd quality to it. "Fuck, I'm just cutting you out, Jesus mate no need to break my nose."

The words don't make sense, not entirely, but seconds later Pac finds his leg free - still entangled, but the seaweed cut from the floor, and he does his best to swim away.

Right from the seaweed and slamming into the cave wall.

Hands grab him again, and say something, and he fights them all the same. Seconds later he's being dragged and pulled and - oh, god, this is how he's going to die.

He goes to fight before remembering, actually, dieing might not be so bad actually... At worst he'll respawns, at best he'll be with Mike again.

It's just as that thought crosses his mind that his head breaks the surface of the ocean. Pac gasps for air and, by the time he's processed that, he's being hoisted and yanked up onto the ice.

He's frozen, he's freezing, but he shakes off the worst of the water and shudders as sunlight presses into his skin.

He's crying - sobbing even - on his hands and his knees, blind terror all about him as he struggles to breathe.

"Aw, mate, you could have said no if it was gonna fuck you up."

There's someone else here; Pac's eyes glance around, only to find Philza there. He can't tell if the man is a friend or a foe or just an acquaintance to be embarrassed around, but the man shrugs off his bag and opens his arms in a familiar gesture.

Pac falls into them, and hides. A hand finds his hair, and another his back, and something very dark curls around to protect him from icy wind. He does not cling back, just cries to the sound of slightly awkward comfort, sucking it in.

"You're okay," the words sound so much more believable coming from someone else. "You got out, I've got you, you're safe, you're okay."

The words are whispered into his skin, and they're not quite a balm but they are a promise and a kindness none the less; he is promised safety, and he knows the man around him can provide.

He just... Did not expect that provision to include himself, only friends of friends as they are.

Pac breathes, and it comes easier now - the air is cold, but between the darkness and Philza's chest he is safe. Slowly, slowly, as he remembers what limbs are Pac reaches out a shaking hand to the void.

It finds feathers; the darkness tenses, and then relaxes to his touch.

Pac, in turn, relaxes with it.

"You good?" Philza eventually asks from above.

"Sim," Pac replies, gathering himself a little more, hiding himself in a laugh. "Sorry, sorry, that was embarrassing."

"We've all been there mate," Fit's friend says.

The wings peel away, and Pac can see them properly - tattered edges and all. Sees how they droop, and the strain in Philza's shoulders as he uses his hands to fold them, and his backpack to keep them in pace.

"Shall we get somewhere warmer?" he asks, before Pac can comment. "I've got a treasure map to somewhere near that mesa you and Fit showed me, if you've still got the warp?"

"Are you sure?" Pac's hands shake as he checks his things.

"Eh, I'm pretty sure it's an iron dungeon," Philza replies, pulling out a map and squinting at it. "I was saving it to troll Etoiles with, but I could actually do with more iron. And someone to deal with mobs while I mine it. You, me, and some skellies - sound good?"

Pac isn't sure; he doesn't want to think, though, he does know that. Dungeons are supposed to be his and Fit's /thing/, one half the time someone intrudes on. The offer almost feels insulting, but...

But when Philza felt bad, they offered him a dungeon - he so clearly means to offer the same. Like for like, not pity but a trade.

"I want the tracks and redstone," Pac tries to sound steady, and knows he fails. "I'll save it for Mike when he returns."

"Sure, I don't even know where to start with that shit," Philza takes Pac's hand, and leads him along a safe route over the ice. "If we go back to that haunted rock area, then glide back towards the mesa? I should be able to find us on the map from there."

Pac nods, placing his hand on the warpstone in advance. Philza's joins it, and together they warp away.

---

Thankfully it is dawn, and any monsters are gone this time - there's just the beautiful sunrise over the haunted sea. The sun is rising, not setting, but Pac waves to it anyway and hopes that, somewhere, Bobby can see.

Philza makes half a laugh as he finds his glider. Pac searches for his own, and tries not to remember the night on the cliff - him and Fit, him and Fit, but also Philza, laughing about cannons and resting in one another's arms, only for Philza to pull away first and let him and Fit be.

Pac instead thinks about friendship, and how Fit would abandon everything for Philza just as Pac would give it up for Mike, and how it seems that isn't limited to just them. Because Philza didn't send him home, just as Fit also kept close to an oddly behaving Mike. How it doesn't really matter, because in the end they both agree with where the other stands.

Pac instead thinks of nothing, and throws himself off a cliff after Philza.

For one glorious second he lets himself fall, before pulling out his own paraglider and following Philza down.

He lands on Philza's boat, and they drive it back to the mesa. It's filled with the sort of talk that means nothing, and with Philza humming tunes to the air. For a man who claims to be musically dead, he manages it well.

It's also noise, white noise to blur the absence in his mind.

"Here we are," Philza gets out first, and offers Pac a hand out. "We should be pretty close. These things are a bit of a nightmare to find, being underground, but I'm sure we'll manage."

To his surprise, Pac is passed the map while Philza puts away the boat. He has to turn it around to orientate himself, but once he has Philza gestures for him to lead the way. Philza puts himself on Pac's left - the side he holds the map, whilst his other has his scythe, shield turned out against the wild.

Pac tries to think of something to say, and what comes out is, "so did you go looking for a big cannon, or did you just stumble into it?"

The comment draws startled laughter from his companion as they walk, having to stop a moment to let him gather himself. "We knew we were going to see one, but we're exactly looking. You find them all over the coast in the UK, and I think some along the Thames too? A lot have been removed, but we like our old crap, so a couple of the old forts are still open."

"So you're saying you come from a land of many large cannons."

"Yes, Pac," Philza laughs again. "Yes, I do; don't you?"

"We have other large things instead," Pac tries to smile, but he knows it looks off. "Like diamonds."

"Diamonds?"

Pac can see Philza looking for the sex joke, and suddenly realises he doesn't actually want to explain what he meant. So instead he says, "quality over size. Even a big diamond is small."

That draws more laughter, "yeah okay mate; Fit's a lucky boy then."

That almost has Pac dropping the map he's holding as he chokes. Philza grabs him, holds him steady, gives him something to cling to with Mike and Fit and Richarlyson and Walter Bob all gone. Something there, some support, something to stop him choking on himself.

"Too much?" Philza's voice is gentler this time.

Pac nods, hiding his blush in his hands even as he leans on Philza.

"Alright," Philza says, handing him a bottle. "Drink some water, king, and we'll get this dungeon cleared. And no more dick jokes until Fit's also here to suffer. Maybe we could even come up with some new ones, just to tease him next time we all meet up."

Pac takes the bottle, hiding in his hood as he does as he's told. Philza takes the map and they continue to walk as he sips at it, hiding himself and his face in the bottle. Philza makes sure to stay in sight, keeping idle commentry going.

At this point, Pac is reasonably sure Philza knows something continues to be wrong - but then so did Fit and Pac when Philza had that strange... Maybe hallucination? Fit says it probably wasn't, and Pac trusts Fit, but whatever it was it was unsettling and strange.

Philza seems fine now, though; maybe one day Pac will be fine too.

It is about ten or fifteen minutes walk to the dungeon. There's nothing on the surface to mark it, just Philza squinting at the map, and passing it to Pac to check.

Once they agree, they dig; Philza calls 'race you!' and begins a staircase.

Pac lives for adrenaline; he starts digging straight down.

Somehow he doesn't hit lava.

He does end up falling from the top of the dungeon into a crevasse, fails to find either a water bucket or his paraglider, and breaks his leg. It's terrifying, and he's alone as he sees his death message flash up in chat but - maybe - it's okay. There's Aypierre laughing and Baghera offering help, and Philza on his black paraglider swooping in from the ceiling to assist.

"You good?" Philza asks as he pours a potion out over the wounds, his eyes almost glowing in the low light as Pac's bones knit together.

Pac leans forwards to check his prosthetic while his body heals, twitching only a little with the pain. The fall knocked a few screws loose and bent some of the metal out of shape, but it's an easy enough fix with a hammer and screwdriver. He'll check it over properly later, or maybe swap it for his spare until he has energy for it, but it'll hold for the day.

"All good," Pac confirms, as he pulls his jeans back down.

He can see Philza side-eyeing the prosthetic, and shifts; the man says nothing, however, just helps Pac up and types out an 'all good we're just dungeoning' to calm the global chat.

And then he looks at his map.

"You've got us near a corner," Philza turns his communicator to show Pac. "If we just start here and work around to the left, we shouldn't miss anything."

Pac nods, and pulls out his grapple. Together they pull themselves up and onto the ledge, and the dungeon begins.

It starts simple - Philza takes out a spawner, while Pac works on the skeletons, then they swap so Pac can loot the minetracks. Trading the mobs on and off, Pac cannot help but notice how Philza even when on mob duty prioritises looting, catching the attention of a swamp of skeletons and sending them on a chase over barrels as he smashes them open and grabs the contents. Only when he can carry no more does he start fighting, laughing as he does.

It's a nice laugh, that one.

He laughs too when Pac fights, hacking away at the iron blocks he claims to want. With every other hit there is a call of "good hit!" "nice one!" "you're doing good, Pac!", and Pac can feel himself starting to grin as well.

Together they dance in a dungeon much easier than the one Phil joined Pac and Fit for, able to let loose without worrying for the giant magma cube around the corner. They keep an eye on each other, and watch their backs, and Fit's deep voice is so clearly missing between them without feeling like a void.

By the time it is finished, they are both laughing, bone-dust covering their clothes and their tools and the world in their hands. Philza gives Pac some of the iron, and they take his staircase - not Pac's hole - out.

They don't talk about what comes next, but neither of them reach for their warpstones. Instead Pac picks a direction and walks. Philza follows.

They find a hill a little way out, surrounded by flower fields but empty of them itself. Philza lights it up with his slingshot, despite it still being around midday, and Pac makes hot chocolate for them both. Pulls out chairs, too - blue and green - and places a coffee table between them.

He sits on the blue and Philza looks at the green and says, "are you sure I'm okay to sit there? I don't wanna intrude."

Pac looks at the chair - it was just habit, just what he carries - and curls up his toes. "It's fine," he can hear the sadness in his own voice. "Mike isn't here, he wouldn't mind."

"Do you mind?"

"I got it out for you."

"Alright, king," Philza finally takes the seat and the hot chocolate, leaning back into the cushions. After a bit he adds, "these are good chairs. Maybe I should invest in something better than mine."

"They're not expensive," Pac replies. "And they're comfy! I have one instead of a bed."

He wonders if he should have admitted that - he knows people worry - but in the crash of the panic attack and the fighting it's hard to keep his mouth shut.

Philza just laughs though, "yeah? I've been using one of those wooden ones. You know? Basic ones, just in a fancy wood."

"How do you not have splinters?!"

"I'm good with my hands - what else can I say?"

They both laugh at that one, a joke which actually lands. There's something comfortable and comforting about it. The laughter drifts into giggles, drifts into sips of hot chocolate - quiet and together. Pac makes a point of not watching as Philza gets himself comfortable, untangling his wings and stretching them... Not to full width, but wide.

It's only when one brushes his arm that Pac dares to ask "what happened?"

"Hm?" Philza looks up.

"To your wings?"

"Feds fucked them up when I arrived," Philza says it like its nothing, but there's bitter pain in his words. "By purgatory they'd healed up just enough to fly, but then carrying Tubbo through meteor strikes and radiation... I can't regret it, I /won't/ regret it, but they're fucked again. I can hold them up so it seems better, but they hurt worse than before."

Pac wants to say he's sorry, but he doesn't think it would be appreciated. Instead he says "thank you for saving Tubbo."

"I couldn't just leave him," Philza says. "He's my friend too, you know?"

"I know," Pac fiddles with his cup. "You're a good man, Felipe Minecraft. I'm not sure I'd do it."

"I think you would," Philza says, with more faith in Pac than he's ever had in himself. "If it came to it. You're also a good man, Pac - if you weren't, I wouldn't let you have Fit."

It's an admission neither of them acknowledge. Instead Pac flops, exhausted, against his chair. "I'd do it for Mike. I miss him."

"I can't imagine," Philza's wings stretch a little further, stroking against Pac's cheek. "But, I'm sure he'll heal. And once he does hold him close, okay? Because you never know when you'll loose him."

It's obvious, of course Pac will try to, but there's pain in Philza's voice, and Pac thinks of a memorial on a wall and a child living in the footsteps of a ghost, and maybe Philza can imagine better than he thinks he can.

Or maybe Philza means he can't imagine, because he knows.

"Did you love him?" Pac asks instead.

"He was my best friend."

Philza's voice breaks on the word, and Pac knows both that he has to stop, and that Philza knows just what it is Pac fears. Even if he calls it different, even if they didn't share one mind... Pac should not have asked.

"I'm sorry."

"You did nothing wrong; it hurts, but in hurting I remember him, you know?"

There's a long silence, in which Pac tries to know what to say, and Philza stares absently at soft clouds on the horizon. Even in Portuguese he would struggle, and Philza is certainly not looking to his translator.

Maybe Philza and Fit are not as Pac and Mike; Philza has already lost his Mike. Or, perhaps, both are true, and even if Pac looses his best friend, someone will be there to keep him whole.

It's a nice fantasy; he knows Philza's wound bleeds open even now.

"I have never been without Mike before this island," Pac eventually admits. "At least... I was seven when we met, he was five. I've heard his thoughts since I was ten, and the first time he ever fell silent was when I was put in that water prison."

"Shit," Philza closes his eyes as he swears, leaning back. "Earlier, with the water... You should have said something, Pac, I wouldn't have judged you. Fuck knows there's shit I can't do anymore."

"I didn't know it'd be that bad," Pac hesitates after those words. "It hasn't been before. Today is just... bad? I already felt bad."

"And you came to me for company, and I made it worse," Philza says. "I am so, so sorry mate - I didn't mean to, I just- It was for Chayanne."

"It was still better than being alone," Pac replies. "The second time our connection broke was when he was taken - I haven't heard him since. Even asleep, even unconscious, even when I was in a coma... We could still feel each other. Not now. It's lonely no, and it's been so long..."

"Pac..." Philza's voice catches. "You shouldn't have to make those choices... You shouldn't have to put up with my whims just not to be alone, mate, you should have just said; we could have gone to the dungeon, or the favela, worked on the train tracks... You didn't have to swim."

"Fit is gone, Mike is gone, Richas is gone," Pac twists his hands. "You were helping me. I wanted to help you - I wanted to do something for Chayanne too! He is a good egg."

"He is," Philza smiles softly, taking the distraction for what it is. "The best. But, king, are you going to be okay?"

"When am I not?" Pac asks, as he thinks of happy pills and his own blood trailing the floors of Chume Labs.

Philza gives him a distinctly unimpressed expression and, yeah, fair, "I'm serious, Pac; I don't have plans today if you just wanna chill somewhere. Here, my place, your place, the Favela... if the karaoke's working, we could steal a room? Hell, we can just keep heading outwards and find some more dungeons if you fancy violence instead."

"... Are you sure?"

"We're friends, aren't we?" Philza asks. "We don't get to hang out as often as we should - if you'd rather get some rest, I won't stop you. Just thought I'd offer."

"Karaoke then?" Pac suggests, if only for some structure to keep the anxiety from seeping back in.

"Sure. No promises I won't fall asleep on the couch, though."

Pac laughs. It is weaker, but it is more real. "No promises, no promises here either."

In time they do, of course, fall asleep on the couch - and that is where Fit will find them in the morning.

#qsmp fanfic #qsmp philza #qsmp pac #mike and techno haunt the narrative #what is that conversation at the end idk they ran away from me #it was supposed to be about the shitty prison system #it very much is not #god this was a long one #I wanted to write it so bad #but christ 5k of continuous narrative is a lot #I've put scene breaks where they teleport #and summarised the fighting more than I meant to #but its still all one continuous scene really #and oh god was it hard to stitch together #multiple scenes so much easier for longer >.<#okay enough complaining about writing hope you enjoyed #I'll get it to ao3 when I can #but that means at least spellchecking #but oh god I'm tired after this #I've been writing it for... eight hours #on and off but without doing anything thinky between #just replying to occassional email or watching a video about a snake while I have lunch

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artheresy · 2 months

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An argument over whether or not Dan Heng is Dan Feng seems to have begun getting sparked again in certain parts of the Fandom and it does nothing but hurt my head to no end

Both sides cherrypicking or treating it like a strange situation, making false equivalents. "Yknow governments don't consider people who've lost their memories to be separate people" that's a flawed argument to use in favorite of DH = DF because it's not just he lost his memories. He literally grew up, experienced his own childhood, had a whole identity cultivated based on those experiences and that life and continues to live his own life. To treat the situation like it's just him getting a bit of amnesia is wild to me

But also I hate when people continue to insist he's running from Dan Feng and his past and how he's miserable and shouldn't ever confront the past and deal with it as if his and Blade's whole stories aren't centered around rebirth and karma, paying for your past life's karma. He needed to confront the past to ensure a freer future! He literally has!! And he will continue to do so because he realizes this, DH isn't dumb and he's grown since we first saw him. He understands

But yeah uh I'm so tired

This whole thing feels very Ship of Theseus. What makes the ship what it is, the physical aspects of its planks, its sailing history, or both?

For him, the question is what makes someone who they are? Is it the body that makes them up and any inherent genetic factors (like traits)? Is it their experiences, how they've grown up, and the identity they've developed in that time? Or is it both factors mixed together?

Personally in the case of Dan Heng, I think it's both! Yeah he has a lot of traits from Dan Feng. There's a lot inherently there. But we can't disregard his own experiences and the identity that has formed based on his history and what he's seen.

Again I can't stress this enough... It is a false equivalent to compare him to people who lose their memories or get amnesia, he didn't just lose those memories. He started life from the beginning, a whole different kind of life. And even then, the amnesia topic comes with its own debates. Isn't there a whole other thought experiment regarding someone put to trial who ends up with amnesia and what their verdict should be?

I guess in the end, it's all up to people's own philosophical beliefs after what constitutes a person. My personal belief that DH and DF will always be connect but the separation between them is also meaningful is something based on my own ideas of what consisitutes a person and their individual identity, similar situation with how I see Rukkhadevata and Nahida as connected but still not the same person exactly. At the end of the day again, it's personal beliefs

But what I can't stand and can't stand by, is someone acting all high and mighty like they're perfectly right and everyone else is wrong, especially when they're cherrypicking or not holding all their evidence to the same standard. According to some ppl, apparently it's better in the CN fandom where instead of treating it like "I'm right you're wrong" people have divided themselves into "DF and DH one person" and "DF and DH two people" groups and most importantly of all, they treat both like theories and just keep to their space and tag which they believe when it's relevant. Why can't we just do that? Why can't we follow in their footsteps instead of bringing up this argument every so often with the same tired flaws from both sides?

#Lore discussion in this community can be so tiring #I wish more people would be open to their viewpoint being challenged instead of believing they can never ever be wrong #And seeing people throw out wild accusations #Like someone saying people are transphobic if they believe dh is df like what?#I get it if you identity with dh and read it as a trans narrative personally even if I dont #Doesn't mean you can call people transphobic over it #I dunno I'm tired #Everything I see this topic I get mad #“He says you're my past in the ichor of two dragons!!”#He also says right after “But you won't follow me into my future” so your point is?#Additionally if we're being 100% real that animation feels like it's less about his rejection and eventual acceptance of DF specifically #It feels more so like his rejection of the role of Imbibitor Lunae given what I've talked about about the DF being there would never say #Any of those things how it's based on his biased view of him and is a projection of things he was told growing up likely #So I'm tired #One of the only good arguments I've ever seen to say DH is DF is in regards to how he clings to DF's old stuff #I have things to say about it personally #But it's a MILES better argument than some of the other ones I've seen and even then my arguments against it would still be an up for #Interpretation kind of thing like the initial argument rather than pointing out someone is looking at the full picture #Again I respect how people see it! Believe what you want to believe about it again it's all about our own perspectives #Just don't be a dick to people on either side if you don't agree with them #Dan heng #Dan feng #Hsr #Honkai star rail

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craycraybluejay · 1 month

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ik people like to act like sex and imbalanced sexual dynamics are uniquely traumatizing (moreso than any other kind of power imbalance, abuse of power, or just flat out abuse period) but from personal experience not really. there's nothing inherent to sex and sexuality that makes it traumatizing. there's nothing inherent to sexual trauma that makes it more traumatic than any other trauma.

and chiefly trauma is never really about the intentions of any party who made or let it happen. someone who wants, intends, and tries to hurt you might bounce off you just like that; because they simply failed to psychologically damage you, because what they did didn't bother you a lot whether it be mental physical or sexual. conversely someone who does not want, intend, or try to hurt you may scar you for life with something either they don't understand is harmful or isn't even inherently harmful and is uniquely that way to you.

i just. i'm annoyed at the narrative of trauma being taken away from the survivor themself. if i say this was traumatizing and you think it's not a big deal, too fucking bad, listen to me. if i say that wasn't traumatizing at all and you think it's the worst thing in the world upon hearing what it is, too fucking bad, you don't get to tell me what my trauma is. i'm sick of seeing people put words in each others mouths and tell someone's story for them without that person's consent. idk like? it makes me so angry that whenever i used to talk about things people would blatantly disregard the most horrific times of my life and instead focus on stuff i was neutral or even positive toward as a big terrible thing that ruined me.

nowadays i'm very grateful to have people who are chill and don't jump to conclusions no one asked them to. people who listen when i tell them "i know this sounds bad but it wasn't actually" or "i know this sounds stupid but this was world shattering." people who i get to laugh with. the RIGHT people who extend me the same kindness of knowing their strange "good bad things" and "bad fine things."

life just isn't as simple as "this is always terrible for people" and "this is always fine for people." PEOPLE aren't a monolith. yes, even that thing that you think must be the worst thing possible. yes, even that thing that you think no one could possibly be hurt by. it's hard to involve myself in serious discussions about abuse because there is a very clear Narrative people want to follow and if you as a "victim" don't follow it then either it didn't happen or you're wrong about your own experience.

hopefully I can consult my therapist about this phenomenon in discussions of abuse and trauma. and also about the specific thing that made me think of this. it irritates me quite a lot when others pity me for something that i knowingly chose-- and in retrospect never hurt me either. like what are you fishing for. why are you looking at me like that. i'm fine, maybe you're the one that needs counseling if my talking about this creates such a visceral reaction in you.

#listen to trauma survivors #listen to victims #listen to people who say they AREN'T that when you say they are too #the only person who knows their life best is that person especially in retrospect #ask to tag #trauma #the narratives surrounding trauma are regressive and ignore anyone who does not fit them #mental health culture critical #mental health #i consume [one] weed and then have sex and its immediately rape. pls touch grass jfc #idk everything surrounding sex is this mystical thing rife with potential evil #and i'm tired of it #the anti sex culture #the whole: there's nothing more traumatizing than someone 2 years older asking you out #pls stop #sex is not inherently more evil or potentially evil than literally any other thing that can be used to abuse #and abuse isn't as simple as 2 neat boxes labeled abusive thing and not abusive thing #for example you cant claim a karen yelling at you in a store is abusive. rude and mean yes but shes not abusing you #but if the same person is yelling at you all the time and has power over you so you cannot stop them thats a diff story potentially #idk people have this #black and white thinking #that never fails to irritate me #and we are never going to get anywhere in understanding these difficult topics if we cannot disconnect the narrative from our ego to always #always be right. to always know what is one thing and what is the other

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redysetdare · 17 days

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I always find it interesting that homosexual coded main characters don't really get shipped with every single side character of the opposite gender. And people get told off for shipping lesbian coded characters with men or gay coded characters with women by the rest of the fandom. But it's always aroace coded main characters getting shipped with every single side character that exists. And aroace fans getting told to "not generalise the entire aspec community" and "let people ship whomever they want!! It's just fiction!!!" as if we don't deserve to see characters living happy lives not being in relationships. And my biggest pet peeve is the trope of an aroace coded character "growing up and maturing" by... getting in a romantic/sexual relationship. Really shows what these people think about non-partnering aspec people irl. It's not just about fictional characters but they'll never admit it 🤷

I will say that there are some idiots out there who do ship gay characters with the opposite sex because they believe in people being able to ship whatever they want (which can lead to some disturbing places but I digress) But those kinds of ships do get a lot more push back and the same people who get after people for changing characters from gay to straight do not have the same energy when it happens to aro /aroace characters.

These same people are the ones calling for representation and how we treat characters identities in fiction does reflect how we view those identities in the real world EXCEPT when it comes to aspec characters. Suddenly then it's "fiction doesn't effect reality!!!" there's some double standards happening and it's beyond frustrating that no one seems to even notice and get mad at us for pointing it out.

Not to mention it's incredibly funny to hear them cry "Don't generalize the community" while they generalize the community by acting like every aro/ace/aroace person can date and have sex - which like you said ignored the existence of non-partnering identities and I'd like to add it also erases repulsed identities.

None of these people actually care about the aspecs who date or have sex. they don't actually care how those identities work or those experiences at all. they're using them as a get out of jail free card. a loop hole. a "I can't be homophobic because I have a gay best friend" card. They don't care about QPRs and how those relationships can be experience in wildly different ways. All they care about is if they get to have two characters kiss without having to genuinely look at themselves and their biases and possibly have the revelation that they might hold bigoted beliefs about aspec people.

And at this point I'd rather them admit that they don't actually care about aspec identities or experiences instead of tying themselves into knots to try and prove "I'm not aphobic!!!!" because they actively tried to find a loop hole to make it so that they could feel superior and in the right for being able to erase an entire identity of people.

#asks #aro #ace #aromantic #asexual #aroace #like it becomes incredibly obvious when the same people who claim not liking female characters #can reflect real like misogynistic views on women are the same people #who are saying that “it's just fiction it doesn't hurt anyone” when it comes to shipping aroace/aro characters #like okay so do how people treat fictional characters reflective of beliefs they have in the real world or not #What makes the treatment of one identity in fiction reflective of reality and the treatment of another identity 'just fiction'. quickly.#at what point is it 'just fiction that doesn't hurt anyone' and at what point is it 'fiction hurts real people'. quickly #and I've already made a post about how people can only interact with media through shipping and how that's caused a decrease #in media literacy and critical thinking in general because people are viewing media through an incredibly narrow view #and warping or ignoring the main message of the media in favor of a romantic narrative that doesn't exist #and i could say more about how that makes people ignore aspec coding and subtext of characters and stories #but these tags are long as is and so is this post #in the end it's all just amatonormative allonormative aphobic bullshittery #and i'm incredibly tired of it #long post #long post with equally long tags #i have a lot of subthoughts that i dont wanna try and fit in the main post #might make more posts about these thoughts. probably will. no one can shut me up.

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fromtheseventhhell · 9 months

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Robert, Cersei, and Joffrey watching everyone blame Ned and Arya for Lady's death (and barely talk about Mycah cause who cares about an unimportant low-born boy? 🤪)

Arya committed the horrible crime of wanting to defend her friend and Ned physically carried out the act...after her death had already been decided. Right. It's interesting that of the three, Sansa is the one who gets blamed the least despite George saying she held some responsibility.

He was a bit coy in answering our questions but in the end he did indicate that Sansa did have responsibility for Lady's and Ned's deaths.

I'm not saying she should be blamed but if you're pointing fingers and not including her, then it seems more about personal opinion than the story being told. I'm all for her age being a factor in people not blaming her but it just has to be consistent. It can't be that Sansa shouldn't be blamed because of her age AND that Arya can be held responsible despite being younger. And yes, Ned is an adult, but what does that really mean in this situation? He's going against the Queen, a King who refuses to intervene, and a Prince making accusations while surrounded by Lannister guards and traveling South to become the hand of the King...I'm genuinely wondering what he was expected to do? He'd already taken the best course of action by bringing Sansa to tell the truth about what happened. According to George, her lying had an impact on Lady being killed so...why exactly does he get blamed? Why does Arya? This is the moment that tells us the Lannisters aren't to be trusted and the Starks aren't safe in KL, but who cares about the narrative right? It's really one of those situations when you can tell people are only looking at a scene from the perspective of a specific character.

#asoiaf #ned stark #arya stark #sansa stark #robert baratheon #cersei lannister #joffrey baratheon #once again my point isn't that Sansa should be blamed it's that other characters shouldn't be unfairly blamed for her sake #it makes absolutely no sense to blame Ned and Arya when Joffrey Cersei and Robert are right there but when has this fandom ever had sense??#I'm tired of them getting blamed from a certain group of stans who only care about one character #Arya wasn't wrong for trying to defend Mycah and there was nothing Ned could've done to save Lady #Lady dying before her and Sansa really had a chance to bond and Sansa holding some responsibility was done for a specific narrative purpose #deciding that she alone isn't to blame and everyone else is isn't going to change the story #This moment helps set up one of the main conflicts in that book but it gets reduced to a petty blame game so Sansa can be THE victim

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reshirfuse · 6 months

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real tired of blue eyed samurai being seen as "novel approach to the take down of japanese xenophobia" and not literally as "japanese people are fascinated by whiteness, were axis power aligned, and only want to dip their toes into the idea of being different but only in a whiter way because they're racist to literally anything else" masked as "mixed race narrative"

#shosh #im so tired i'm alwyas angry #this isn't a mixed race narrative #i am japanese everyone be quiet lol #as always tired of white person or mixed white person being discriminated against and beaten by natives narrative #cough cough last samurai etc

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eileen-crys · 9 months

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Me: *tries to explain that no, John didn't throw his bass at Knebworth out of frustration "because he already knew Freddie was dying" but because of an exploding mixture of touring/working stress, tiredness, marriage/family issues, years of depression on his shoulders, and ultimately technical difficulties during Radio Gaga*

Replies on YT: "I don't buy it, it was clearly because he knew Freddie had only few years to live! He was angry because he didn't want Freddie to die!"

New "average Queen fan" challenge: try to imagine thinking of Deaky as his own person with his own troubles and life instead of as Freddie's appendix completely revolving only around him. Bonus point if you accept the fact that Freddie was simply tired at the end of the Magic Tour because of the size and effort of it, and his diagnosis came out years after and he told his bandmates even later.

#i'm SO TIRED of dealing with idiots in this fandom PLEASE #🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄😭😭😭😭😭#their timeline abt Freddie's illness is so fucked up bc they love the narrative that the magic tour was the last because he was already sic #and that John's only problem in life was freddie dying #spoiler: NO

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