#and general disgrace

[zondearts]

mmj WoF au desings+ doodles

[avanii]

Assorted fire types! I think Magby can have feathers, as a treat.

[good-to-drive]

Abuse, Silence, And Why Kevin Can Fuck Himself

I recently finished watching Kevin Can Fuck Himself on Netflix, and, aside from being the most brutally honest portrayal of domestic abuse I have ever seen, I discovered a beautifully written examination of narrative as power and silence as abuse and how this manifests in our larger culture. 

Without going into too much detail, the show is filmed in two distinct styles that are interleaved throughout each episode to tell a cohesive story. Allison and Kevin’s relationship as seen by the rest of the world is told through a multi-cam, laugh-track sitcom that depicts a very typical “goofy husband, shrewish wife” mainstream comedy. Allison’s life through her own eyes is told through a single-cam drama/thriller about Allison planning to murder Kevin to escape his abuse. 

It’s an absolute masterclass in screenwriting, but more than that, every episode explores the difference between truth, fact, and reality, and how none of these things are quite as much or as little as story. But while the process of transforming the chaotic and plotless reality of life into a story is as involuntary and essential as breathing, misogyny and the degradation of women is just as ubiquitous in our society, and a story that exists at the expense of another person’s lived reality is a refutation of their humanity. 

It's also just a great show for anyone who likes to engage with history (or reality TV or true crime or “real life stories” in general), because while we have to tell ourselves stories about her own lives, we have to tell ourselves stories about other people as well. Eternal silence is narrative death, and the perpetual silence of an unspoken narrative is often the last death we can visit on someone whose story we’d rather ignore. 

I also pulled up some books – Lolita and Disgrace – that dealt with similar themes, but from the perspective of the abuser. And what strikes me the most is that, across three beautifully written stories about narrative and silence within a culture that normalizes abuse, Allison, who began her story within a state of narrative death, was the only point-of-view character who had any chance of surviving. 

One of the main themes of Kevin is that a compelling story is often a story that reinforces what we already believe or like to believe, and while the story may be factual and true it often also exists at the expense of someone's lived reality. The exact same series of events can be a silly joke or a harrowing tale of abuse depending on the lens through which we view it, but historically we've only been willing to see the multicam, laugh track, sitcom perspective on unbalanced relationships.

The alchemical process of turning a series of disjoint facts and experiences into a narrative creates something new and compelling, and erases much of what previously existed. In this way, it’s entirely irreversible. We spin our experiences into a very thin thread, a story we can tell ourselves that elicits something within us, something we need in order to live with the complex, uncertain, and unsatisfying reality of life. In think in many ways the thing we elicit in ourselves is truth. But truth is both more and less than fact, often more a reflection of our own beliefs and desires than the events of our lives. And in telling that truth we may never stray from the facts, but we almost by definition cannot give voice to another person’s reality.

There's a scene in season 2 of Kevin when Allison is hit by a door – a la the classic excuse – because of Kevin’s carelessness. And while he absolutely did not hit her, the way it's written is such an incredible allegory for how Kevin has curated their story and curated their friends' and family’s perceptions of their story such that even if she tells everyone the exact, unvarnished truth of what's happening to her and begs for help, they will only be capable of seeing the laugh-track, sitcom, “Kevin is a harmless goofball and his wife is a total shrew” perspective on the events of their lives. 

As so often happens with abuse, their friends and family saw Allison being hurt because of Kevin. But the alchemy of creating a narrative around Kevin and Allison is irreversible, and the series of events they witness can only be spun together to a joke, an accident, a silly, childish mistake. Allison’s reality, Allison’s pain and fear, is completely elided. Like a lost sound in the middle of a sentence, her experience goes silent, and their larger understanding of her relationship never has to change. And you feel so acutely how Allison lives her entire life in that silence. 

Storytelling is human, it’s essential, there’s no other way to engage with our own lives. And it’s not lying. It’s never lying to tell the truth. But it doesn’t reflect every reality, either, because another person’s reality can’t be reflected within our own narrative, because that’s what it means to be another person. To spin two different threads.

And because narrative is the essential process by which we understand our reality, denying someone their own narrative, or denying that this narrative be heard, is inherently abusive. To allow someone a voice is to give them humanity, and to suppress it is to strip that humanity away. 

Disgrace, by J.M. Coetzee, follows the story of a professor, David, who rapes a student and then fails to protect his daughter, Lucy, from being raped by intruders in their home. He destroys his daughter’s life  – not through failing to protect her, but through twisting her rape into a story about why the rape of his student wasn’t wrong. The main theme of the book is generally considered to be exploitation, but Coetzee doesn’t deal with the exploitation of the rape. That’s too direct, too immediate, too easy for the reader to understand as misogynistic and wrong. Rather, Coetzee delves into “the innocuous-seeming use of another person to fill one's gentler emotional needs” (Ruden).

The rape is how we understand David as a fundamentally exploitative person, a person who denies others their humanity by converting them into a vessel for his own desires, who erases their voice in order to speak through them and give himself the things he needs. And that’s how we recognize that the way he absorbs and claims the stories of his daughter and his student is another kind of violation of their humanity. Another way of turning women into vessels for men’s pain and fear and need. 

What’s fascinating is that David's student finds her voice – files a complaint against him – and is eventually able to continue with her life. The woman he raped is less damaged by him than his own daughter, because she was the woman he couldn’t permanently silence. 

In Lolita, another brilliant novel about abuse, dehumanization, and storytelling, Humbert turns to the reader at the end and says, “Imagine us, reader, for we don’t really exist if you don’t.” 

It’s not that Humbert knew he was fictional, but that he knew everyone was fictional. Believed the entire world only truly existed in his own mind, because anything beyond that was irrelevant to his needs. He coped with the collapse of his ability to dehumanize Dolores (who he called Lolita) by demanding that his voice be resurrected. Demanding immortality. Demanding his narrative exist in another person’s world, and thereby be given the existence and humanity that Allison and Dolores and Lucy and David’s student were denied. 

Pushing his needs, finally, onto the reader, because we are the only person he has left, and a person like him can only exist through the use of another. In that way, Humbert was powerless. In that way, Kevin and David were powerless, too.

In Disgrace, David’s dream is to write an opera, and at the end of the book he realizes he’ll never finish his magnum opus. He’ll never be able to terminate the process of converting himself, his world, into a story. But he does learn to decenter himself in that narrative. And it’s when he loses all fear of death, and any conception of the self, that he gains the ability to give dogs – who he generally equates to women – a voice within his opera, his life’s work. 

It’s in death that we discover our true unimportance as human beings, that we learn to let go of vanity and our conception of the self entirely. And David had degraded women so thoroughly in order to justify how he used them to meet his own emotional needs that it was only in losing all value for his own life that he could gain the ability to see them as equal voices. To actually put those voices into his own life story. It's at the cost of himself that he allows other people to truly exist, in the death of the self that he finally allows the world to exist outside of himself. It’s almost a positive character arc. Almost.

When Kevin finally loses the ability to abuse Allison, he, like many abusers, loses all desire to live. His world was built on a structure of superiority and inferiority, on beings and vessels, on the inherent value of men and the inherent meaninglessness of women’s lives. The system on which he based his entire reality has been destroyed by Allison’s declaration of the self. And, if he was a being because she was a vessel, then in losing the ability to treat her as a vessel, to fully and completely dehumanize her, he has lost his own humanity. 

It may be perfectly summed up here: “Become major. Live like a hero. That's what the classics teach us. Be a main character. Otherwise, what is life for?” (Coetzee).

If you’re not to be a main character, if there indeed is no split between major and minor characters, between people and the paper dolls that populate their story, between living beings and the vessels into which they pour their need – what is life for?

Nothing. At least, not for people whose narrative must exist at the expense of another. 

And that’s why I say that only a narrator like Allison could survive this kind of story. Despite beginning her story trapped in eternal silence, her reality fully elided no matter how immediate and obvious it became, Allison was the only point-of-view character of any of these three stories who didn’t establish her power through the degradation of another. Who didn’t conceptualize the world via being and vessels. Whose narrative didn’t exist, by necessity, at the expense of another person’s humanity. Whose thread could exist in a larger tapestry without destroying her sense of self.

Don’t get me wrong, she’s not generally a likable character. She’s misogynistic, cruel, selfish, jealous, desperate, afraid, and in pain. Like anyone in an abusive relationship, she’s not at her best, and she’s often pushed to do things that are ugly and disturbing because she’s simply been pushed too far. 

But, for me, the power in her character is in how her last scene never felt like a final scene. Her story didn’t have to be killed, her conception of the self didn’t have to be killed, in order to reveal the brutal reality of stories twisting and intertwining without any inherently superior truth or narrative among them. Allison’s story was one of declaring herself. And that’s why it didn’t feel like it ended at the end. Instead, this felt like a beginning.

[captainofthetidesbreath]

look, I get why they did what they did in Trespasser and why everyone prefers other ships, but I personally think Blackwall and Josephine is incredibly romantic and should've been allowed at least a full tryst

[cometrose]

i’m tired of being insane over geshuyan i want to be free im not built for toxic doomed yaoi it makes me upset 😭

but like can you imagine the tension between them like jiyan doesn’t like him and can’t agree with his ideals but he can’t help but respect him hell he might even like him deep down.

You know how Jiyan feels about retroact rain phantoms -he hates them- but the way he lets Geshu Lin talk on and on and he even sees his sword. Then the weird way they’re having a conversation even though that shouldn’t be possible cause Geshu Lin should just be reenacting past events not talking in past tense, and how their outfits are so similar cause they fulfill the same position and how they are very much two people on the same coin.

Or how Jiyan has probably seen Geshu Lin in the rain many times and still feels pale upon meeting him and seeing how vivid Geshu Lin’s phantom was probably means that he was very important to Jiyan because apparently the stronger you feel (Aalto used the word obsession) towards a person the more vivid they become in the rain, and despite the anti-rain medication he’s probably been exposed to the rain so much that he’ll probably see Geshu Lin every time but the way phantom Geshu says “Jiyan” so softly compared to the rest of his speech -HAVE MERCY I WANT TO BE FREE

[cheriboms]

doctober day 28: metallic

local old man doesnt "get" the youths, pt 1/??

[queenburd]

@alexis-royce’s Academic is gender envy and the use of ouji fashion means I’ve wanted to draw them for MONTHS and kept forgetting. I’m making up for it. Outfit design. My love for costume design, Edwardian fashion history, and ouji Lolita fashion has pulled itself to the forefront, call me the aspiring tailor’s apprentice or something

(I am not about to get into Fallen London. I will, however, get excited about the style.)

[setevulpo]

i was thinking about the archangels and how fucked up being possessed by one of them would be and this was created. headcanons on what each (non-bloodline) vessel would go through while possessed! bon appétit

-

michael

their vessel runs hot, grace a constant thrum under the skin that imitates a heartbeat well enough for those unaware not to notice. the blue glow that takes over their eyes upon the slightest provocation calms only when their enemies are on the ground, enochian seared into what’s left of their skin once the light dies down.

the heat that follows them shapes the air into wings too big for the space they’re in, even in the most expansive fields earth has. they have to watch out when stepping on grass, or stretching their wings too far into the trees, or fire will follow them too.

eventually it starts to burn, whatever body they’re in. the grace running through its veins turns closer to lava with each passing day, flares deep inside its chest and expands down to its hands when their anger rises. bruises showing up in blues no matter how old they are, burns in its skin hot to the touch.

a smell of fire and smoke follows them when they leave the vessel, and they set ablaze anything in their path on the way to a new body. the largest fires are caused by their rage, charred eyes and hearts left behind on their path.

-

lucifer

there's something freezing under their skin, somehow encompassing entire rooms and digging into the skin of everyone around them. the air around them is cold enough to kill, frostbite reaching others before turning their own vessel's hands red with it. its lips are bitten red and raw because the taste of blood is almost intoxicating.

garbled enochian slips through in a constant downpour, because they are an angel and won't taint their tongue with a human language despite the way it burns their vessel's mouth. the easiest way to find them is following the trail of frozen footsteps and the scent of rust so strong it can be tasted.

the hypothermia that sets after some time is what leads them to find a new body, when the one they are wearing becomes too sluggish and their grace starts slipping through the dry cracks in its skin. all that's left is a cold body with its eyes frozen shut.

the earth bleeds on their path, water freezes red by being in their proximity, plants burn and die from the frost. their grace whips through the air and leaves bloody slashes in the skin of anyone who dares get in their way, the wounds never closing completely.

-

raphael

their electricity can be felt under the skin of their vessel, sometimes shocking those who try landing their hands on it. their presence makes people’s hair stand on end, their voice resonates through the room in a way that makes it impossible to ignore. the fissures that appear on its skin from one day to the next are eerily similar to lightning.

the eyes of their vessel gain an unnatural brightness, something fiery that is just wrong when compared to the decaying state of the rest its body. their words flow in a way that’s almost hypnotic, calming until the next strike of their blade.

an ill-suited vessel can’t hold them for long. the tremors starting in its hands show that, as do the bouts of dizziness that hit them every so often. by the time their vessel starts losing its sight they have a new victim picked, their electricity having already eroded the brain of the previous.

it seems as if thunderstorms follow their grace, both rain and lightning falling close but never hitting them. wildfires start in their wake, raindrops never quite reaching their destination, and the injured miraculously recovering in hours.

-

gabriel

there’s a wind hiding under their skin, usually unnoticeable to the common eye. they’re light on their feet, eyes travelling through every corner of the room they’re in, the air around them somehow feeling heavy with the power they chase. at times it blows stronger, the whole of them looking longer, bigger than their vessel, but it doesn’t last long anymore.

their vessel’s skin grows dry with time, tearing open with each snap of their fingers, grace pouring from its hands and giving life to lilies wherever it falls. all of their vessels’ hands are burnt by the time they leave, skin too fragile to handle their grace.

erosion is what kills their bodies, the debris that always seems to fly back towards them easily chipping away at flesh and bone. what’s left of the body after they take their leave isn’t enough to keep it alive, not with the dust coating its lungs.

tornadoes follow the path of their grace, leaving destruction and chaos between their vessels. they are angry, and they are frustrated, and the mayhem they create is the singular way they can be heard. the debris lifted by their rage is flung as far as their grace can reach.

-

[japepperony]

Albus Severus is not his name. His name is remus regulus. REMUS REGULUS. A marauders first name. A black middle name. Just like his brother.

He should not be named after the people who wanted his father dead. Severus was willing to give up a baby so a woman who doesn’t love him could live. Like that woman could even remotely be okay after her child died. The fuck is wrong with that racist.

And Albus literally cares about himself. You were emotionally abused for how long? Because of a stupid blood bond. Get tf out of here. And ion wanna hear that remus was a werewolf shit Mary could’ve took him too.

ASSHOLES.

(Also Harry you’d be dead with the rest of the marauders without regulus soooo the least you could do was give him a name sake) (I still love you. But come on man.)

Edit: I also kinda like Marlene Lily. Cause I’ve always thought it’s weird naming your child after your parent when one of your kids is already named after your parents so then your kids are named after a couple… that fucked… so you can be conceived… but Ykw Harry. I love you. You ain’t really know shit about any marauders because someone (albus) got yo parents killed. So Ykw. Do you bae… do you!

[hazel2468]

Just my personal opinion but I think that if you are a Jew and also a TERF/rad-fem/transphobe then you're a fucking disgrace and a shame unto us all.

[mellifiedman]

POV: your hair looks good so you're trying to take a mirror selfie but your dad's evil acrylic painting of Shia LaBeouf keeps creeping into the frame

[kanabiveil]

the organ was a sacred tool, kei thinks.

the keyboard was simply a distant cousin, kei knows.

fingers, translucent and neon, tap against plastic keys - they are lighter than what he is used to. the hustle and bustle of the music store is something most unfamiliar, akin to that of the train stations he had since forgotten come his days in a desolate wasteland.

truth be told, the company of demons was a welcome one. amidst the sand, snow and oddities that da'at presented to him, it was most unfortunate to stick out like a sore thumb here. blue hair, yellow eyes, a not exactly human appearance . . . he figures he looks more similar to the robot singer he sees across billboards. the one with the lightning blue hair. right.

and yet, there is an inkling of hope born within fiyero. someone traditionally nonhuman, someone with eyes somewhat similar to his. perhaps they had similar experiences. hopefully they did.

affront to god or not, some of demonkind had been kind to kei. some of his closest companions themselves had accepted him with open arms. it is only natural he would seek those of similar walks of life to him.

fingers dance on keys, waiting expectantly for his gaze. eventually, kei resorts to simply playing it not well. loudly. he makes no means to hide unwavering stare.

demons he knew had a certain aura to them. fiyero lacked it. there is no sense of angelkind upon her, nor the touch of an artificial god.

"do you play ?" kei eventually calls out. "piano, i mean."

"you look musical. i would like to speak to you more," . . . can someone look musical ? "privately, please. i don't like talking over crowds."

@viladlind

[bonefall]

What if the whole 'infertility WHOOPS nvm' situation was caused by the DF? Maybe all the DF knew was that one of Firestar's children was to birth three warriors who could destroy them, and they obviously thought squilf was the one to do that, so they either tricked her or starclan into thinking she was infertile. What they DIDNT plan for was Leafpool breaking the code and getting pregnant, still fulfilling the mini prophecy.

Also my knowledge on things post first arc is really fuzzy but could mudclaw's death be from the DF? That put Onestar in power who iirc REALLLYYY hates TC bc he doesnt want to seem too friendly with them, thus dividing the clans more. Could work the other way around with them sparking Mudclaw's rebellion, amd Starclan stepping in to send the tree down.

Good suggestions! But I think I've got these two situations down pat already

Squilf's Infertility

I just kinda prefer the idea that sometimes people are infertile, y'know? Especially Squilf. I also don't want the Dark Forest to go away and have to open up the question of, "If they're not cursing her anymore, can she have babies now?"

No biobabies for Squilf. She raises the Three, and is the mentor of Jessy's and Bramble's daughter, Sparkpelt. She's just infertile because that's how things are sometimes.

Mudclaw's Rebellion

For this one, the Dark Forest's only involved insofar as Tigerstar is training Hawkfrost.

I want to make sure that Mudclaw's rebellion stays Mudclaw's idea primarily; I don't want to fall into the trap of canon material where they keep blaming the actions of their villains on Born Evil Cats without whom there would be no problems.

Mudclaw accepts Hawkfrost's reinforcements, and promises him power in exchange for help... but it wasn't the Dark Forest, or Hawkfrost, that suggested killing Onewhisker. Mudclaw did that.

And for that Mudclaw is actually going to the Dark Forest! He will not be in StarClan for my rewrite, likely becoming one of the cats who ends up defending Ashfur's Tunnel post-TBC along with Juniperclaw.

[cannoliparty]

apparently there are people finally getting their hs merch..... guys maybe theres a light out of this keychain-shaped tunnel

[hussyknee]

People thinking they can poke holes in the quality of the media I hyperfixate on puzzle me. Dude, I know it's trash. I know it's mediocre-to-actively bad. I know it has the nutritional value of Fruit Loops. That's why I hyperfixate on it. If it was actually good it wouldn't produce the kind of under-the-skin irritation only scratchable by 738274 fics, fanedits and meta. I'm not gonna apologize for it.

Of course people who hyperfixate on this trash thinking it's good is a whole other class of animal. That probably belongs in a zoo.

[dravidious]

In Hyrule Warriors there's a weapon for Toon Link, the Sand Wand. Naturally this is an item from a Zelda game, and one that I recognize and remember using, but I couldn't quite remember which one; Phantom Hourglass, Spirit Tracks, or Link Between Worlds? I've played all of them, but it's been years. However, I DID remember that the sand wand raises up square blocks of sand, in a fixed grid. Link Between Worlds uses a fixed grid with its ice wand item, and I distinctly remember the sand wand having a similar highlight preview of what blocks will be raised when you use it. I also remembered it raising a straight line of blocks in front of you, in strict orthogonal directions, which is exactly how Link Between Worlds' item controls work, and very much NOT how Phantom Hourglass or Spirit Tracks' controls work.

But I'm not sure. So I google the sand wand to check and... it's from Spirit Tracks? And its control scheme is completely different from what I remember..?

I google the list of items in Link Between Worlds, and find the sand ROD. Apparently it's in BOTH games with a slightly different name and controls. So that's why I couldn't remember which one it was in.