#living vicariously through this vessel

[frolicinq]

Look at my Holly thoughts boy

[major-knighton]

OP if you want me to delete this bc it fucks with your good vibe tell me

when an older person hits you with the “they would’ve loved you” when talking about a deceased person……. yeah

[lilacxquartz]

PRETTY LITTLE TRINKET

harpy shoko ieiri x reader

plot: while lost at sea, you find yourself saved by a monster yet unable to leave — themes: yandere shoko, monster/human romance, f!reader, time period: early 1900s, alternate universe: mythical creatures

chapter 1 of 5 • next chapter > • main masterlist • ao3

1. Bon Voyage

If you were being completely honest, then you weren’t quite too sure as to why you took on this job in the first place. Perhaps you were just… desperate enough to escape from home. The prospect of working didn’t seem all too terrible if it meant not being cooped up indoors anymore, especially with the threat of an arranged marriage looming just around the corner.

The problem was, however, that very few vacancies had accepted women. That was the most frustrating part about this whole ordeal as you were forced to search a little further than you would have liked. Realistically speaking, the big city was your best bet since they let just about everyone work there now. Before you set out though, your mother tried again and again to talk you out of such, in her eyes ‘troubling’ prospects, pleading with you to reconsider. Perhaps it wasn’t a case of her not wanting for you to explore the world, maybe she had her dreams to do such a thing too—if even just vicariously, but the world she knew was an unforgiving one and it would kill her to see you get hurt.

You understood that sentiment perfectly well, but you also didn’t care. If this was your only given life then what fun was there in obeying the norm when you had the opportunity to potentially defy it?

What fun was it, after all, to spend all of your remaining years left on this earth playing the role of a devoted housewife when there was so much to see of the world?

You wanted to experience it all.

You wanted to live.

You supposed that’s what did it, then. When you found the open vacancy that sought to fill out the role of a crew member aboard an embargo ship, it was almost like a sign for you. The positon itself was buried underneath all sorts of ads in the local paper and the salary wasn’t otherwise too different from what was offered in the city, but it was a place to work with both room and board.

The captain, who upon seeing the almost desperate and sheltered look that was apparent on your face could have abused his role when taking you on, but he never did. Supposedly, you reminded him of his late daughter who he had lost to the winter sickness, so from the goodness of his own heart, whether you were qualified or not, he took you in. The two of you both got on very well too and soon enough, the ship began to feel like a second home.

The work itself wasn’t too bad either, although it was exhausting at times. Since the ship was a cargo vessel, it meant that a lot of the ‘travel’ was linear as it cruised from one harbour to the other. However, sometimes, during the less busy seasons, the ship would at times sail towards the more leisurely spots. You’d dock together as part of the crew and the captain would personally direct you to all sorts of activities and delicacies alike—perhaps it would have been things his late daughter would have liked—but you didn’t quite mind at all, the two of you, helped each other heal in one way or another.

In a way, regardless, you were seeing the world as you had intended to do so from the very beginning. You were happy, even, with your place in life for the first time in forever to such an extent that you refused to go home—hoping to continue this sort of life for as long as you could help it.

However, what with the sea being a surely unforgiving place; it seemed that fate had a different sort of plan in store for you. It was a dark and stormy night, a setting that wasn’t all too unfamiliar when sailing through the murky depths. The ocean was seldom forgiving and that one particular night was more violent than usual. Heavy, crashing waves punched into the ship with such a strong impact, that when it leaned, you could hear as the vessel declined and creaked and waned and then finally… capsise.

It was an unreal experience to have woken up to such horrors, since just moments before you were fast asleep, blissfully unaware of what was churning on the surface. A part of you wondered if it was just the case of being understaffed due to a low hire season, but just from hearing the roaring force of the waves just outside, you quickly understood that there was never any hope to be had in the first place.

No, this voyage was a doomed one from the minute that it had begun to set sail.

You scrambled forward either way, tearing out of your chambers as you dove head first into the quickly flooding hallway. Everything was leaning to the side, the scene disorienting you with the muddied direction. Some things were on fire in the distance, just barely illuminating the way. For the most part, you had to use your own internally mapped memory to swim your way out. You clawed desperately through the misdirected waters that pushed and kneaded you back and forth, hissing sharply strained whispers as your leg snagged over what felt like sharp metal. Your arms too, quickly grew tired as they thrashed towards the surface, just barely making it out in time to climb aboard the sinking wreck. Just like everyone else before you, however, you were soon hurled toward the dark waters, ready to be consumed by the pull of the unwavering void.

A fiery sensation flooded into your lungs; the feeling of molten lava trickling into your core and settling far and deep took over your senses. You couldn’t even breathe anymore as an unseen force prevented both the entry and exit of air alike.

No regrets were however had as you tried your best to at least float towards the surface, wherever that could have possibly been. Even despite your near-early end, you would have died free in the open world and thankfully not a prisoner to a life you knew that you would have hated.

So when your vision at last declined, surrendering to something beyond just the darkness; you simply just… accepted it all.

~~~

Much to your surprise, you managed to wake up. Somewhere bright. The sensation of grass and branches alike poked at your bare skin, leaving you in a perpetual state of slight discomfort. In a spur of confusion, you tore upwards to make sense of what you were feeling exactly, choking out lodged water out of your lungs that then oozed down your chin, mixing with dribbling saliva. A sharp sensation of searing pain swept through your leg when you tried to adjust your position, finding that there was tightly bound seaweed clinging around your thighs in a makeshift bandage of some sort. Your mind drifted back to the memory of you hurting yourself the night(?) before, but you couldn’t have been too certain.

The pain was a harsh reminder that you were essentially trapped wherever it was you were, nothing seeming familiar in your immediate line of sight.

In fact, where were you exactly?

You looked all around you, finding that you were on a cliff edge of some sort and that you were sitting in the middle of a giant nest. Some sort of fear gripped you, thinking that you might have been a snack for some sort of vulture, but then your mind quickly dismissed the thought. Such big birds didn’t exist… did they?

It must have been something else.

As your mind raced for answers, your train of thought was suddenly stifled by the roaring flutter of descending winds settling over your location. Looking up, you tried your best to make sense of what you were looking at exactly, but you were completely and utterly stumped.

Was this a man? A woman? A bird?

(…Both?)

Whatever they were, they knelt immediately, extending out their clawed feathered fingers to tug and tighten the seaweed wrapped around your leg, securing it further into place, slapping away your hand into submission upon your protesting action.

“Stop,” they said. It was a woman’s voice, sounding oddly human. There was a strong hint of compassion laced in her tone, lulling you into the belief that all was just fine. However, the more you looked at her, the more you were left confused. Was this a… monster?

You stopped fretting either way, half believing whatever this was to be a dream—despite it all feeling so shockingly real.

The bird-monster leaned you back down into her nest, her eyes fixated on your weary pupils before settling down next to you. Her feathered form kept you warm despite the harsh coastal wind. “Rest,” she commanded, her words almost hypnotic, driving you off into a deep sleep whether you wanted to go under or not.

Maybe the answers could come later, then—but given just how bizarre this whole thing was—maybe also not.

For now, you needed to first recover.

Then you could find the appropriate time to freak out and question and attempt to make sense of this whole thing.

Who was she… and why did she save you?

this is part 3 of lilac’s bite sized yandere nightmares

[troutfur]

With how you characterize Cloudtail, what’s he like? His relationship to Firestar and his cousins Squirrelflight and Leafpool? His mate and children?

A lot of what I think of Cloudtail's characterization in Haneossia stems from a frustration with his uncle. Fireheart assimilated... not easily, he definitely gets much pushback and bigotry. But perhaps it'd be more accurate to say fully. This is helped by the fact he was well-trained and turned out to be a strong and skilled fighter. Very much a true believer in the power of hard work and keeping your head down until you prove yourself.

As Cloudkit and later Cloudpaw grew into the Clan with that same aura of distrust around him and later came to understand where it all came from, he was outraged. But Fireheart definitely tried to steer him into proving himself the way that it'd worked for him. This led him to really try to connect with Princess and his kittypet heritage, leading directly into the incident where he was adopted out and had to escape later.

It's not that Fireheart denied him a connection to Princess. But he certainly expected him to meet her and move on fast. Not for him to deepen it and keep in close contact. It's something that he carved out for himself, always careful to not arouse suspicion and get caught. I think on some level Firestar may have later figured it out but rather than cutting it out he reluctantly let it continue. He thinks it was the right decision for him to cut contact but he lives his what if vicariously through Cloudtail.

It's this early experience with the flaws of the Clans and the contact he kept with his mother that set the stage for his atheism. Atheism is not exactly the right word but rather than get into the nitty gritty of the comparative religion hair-splitting the important thing is he doesn't believe in an afterlife nor that natural phenomena have agency and personhood. He just never got enough satisfactory answers to counteract his skeptic attitude.

He is not an intentionally obtuse idiot. He clearly knows that magic exists in his world but he doesn't think it is directed by a being any more than your average 21st century person believes that gravity or electromagnetism is directed by a being.

I feel this rebel streak and willingness to question things served him well with regards to Brightheart. He is able to ground her when Clan ideas of worthiness, honor, and legacy are being maladaptive to how she thinks. He brings her a reality check and although she doesn't agree with all of his rebel behavior she can tolerate it for that. Plus he is just genuinely smitten by her and he's a great hugger too.

Finally, with regards to Leaf and Squirrel, I think Firestar wouldn't want him to be too big an influence in their early lives. Not that he would have banned them from interacting completely but certainly didn't encourage either side to seek the other. Of the two I see Squirrel more likely to seek him out and most influenced by him. He amplified the Firestar's little nightmare factor for her and got a kick out of it.

All in all, in some ways I think Cloudtail is a more fitting vessel for the rebel archetype that Firestar is often given in fanworks. But at the same time I don't think he'd be a far-reaching reformer or a figure of legend whose influence reverberates. More of a guy that got a happy ending by forging a space for himself to keep what he likes of Clan life and disregarding the things that did not serve him. Truly someone who found a way to live with a paw in each world.

[burningdreambanana]

What if the reason Cihangir idolized Mustafa so much is because he wanted to be him? (or me trying to make the writing for Cihangir deeper than what it actually is)

Cihangir's devotion to Mustafa never made sense to me because they really did not spend a lot of time with each other, he was a baby when Mustafa left and Mustafa only came to visit a few times a year.

Of course, the Doylist explanation is that the writers are ableist and used Cihangir as a token to prop up Mustafa, reducing him to little more than a tragic accessory. But if we try to look at it from a Watsonian perspective, a deeper psychological reading emerges : Cihangir loves Mustafa so much because he wants to be Mustafa and is living vicariously through him

In ep 118, we see how deeply Cihangir is hurt by Selim's words on how he will never be a true contender for the throne. Later, after losing his virginity, he dreams of being the sultan, basking in the adoration of his subjects, a fantasy that reveals his deepest yearning.

Mustafa is the" ideal" prince, the one almost everyone sees as "perfect," the inevitable future ruler. Cihangir, aware that he can never hold that position, transfers his hopes, his unfulfilled ambitions, even his sense of self-worth onto Mustafa, investing in him not out of love for the real person he is, with qualities and flaws, but for the idea he represents, the life Cihangir himself was denied.

He projects onto him a symbolic self, a version of himself unburdened by his disability, fully realized, powerful, and beloved, an externalized version of who he wishes he could be. What he loves is the idealized projection of himself that Mustafa embodies.

This explains why his grief at Mustafa’s death is so all-consuming. He did not just lose a brother; he lost the vessel through which he had been living. Mustafa's death shatters Cihangir’s constructed identity, leaving him without dreams, purpose or a fixed sense of self.

And it's not just that Mustafa dies, it's how he dies. Had Mustafa died in battle, Cihangir might have mourned him but still preserved the illusion of his symbolic self. But instead, Mustafa is branded as a traitor and strangled on the order of their own father. His death is not noble; it's degrading, unjust, and deeply horrifying. Cihangir, who had projected so much onto him, sees his symbolic self being reduced to nothingness, Mustafa is not the invincible prince, the destined ruler, the embodiment of perfection. He lost before the real war even started and was brutally discarded by their father.

This shattering of Mustafa’s image is, in turn, the shattering of Cihangir’s own ego ideal. If Mustafa can be brought so low, then what hope is there for Cihangir, the sickly, fragile son who was never even in the running? The psychological devastation is immediate, Cihangir’s vicarious existence collapses. His grief is not just loss, it is ego death. His body follows soon after, because there is nothing left to sustain him.

[sscarletvenus]

i see you did a genderbend fic, thoughts on how fem!goo would look? :3 headcanons?

omg hello anon!! and thank you for the question!!

THREE FEM!GOO HEADCANONS, FROM YOURS TRULY:

. appearance- kinda imagine her looking very much like kim hieora...sharp facial features, bloodless skin, dark undereye circles, pin straight hair, tall and lean... like ethereal, but in a truly unsettling way. something inhumane and cruel and alien but she's so gorgeous that you cannot comprehend properly the intensity of her being all of those things!!!

. i think she would still be the kind of general moral vagabond as in canon. blood and blood and replay. she's very insatiable and intense at all times. she loves chaos, horror, and being the cause of that turbulent terror. gloats over it. is nourished by it.

. she has NO instinct for nurture whatsoever. her moral compass is a roulette wheel. she doesn't have exaggerated, hypocritical ideals like Gun does. she just needs something to kill, endless, itchy waiting for her prey to deliver itself to her open mouth and bared teeth. SHE doesn't enjoy hunting. Gun does. She likes her prey willing, because that is how and when they taste the sweetest...

. as a teenager she's terrifyingly self-possessed and intense. is it a facade for her weakness? can weapon ever be weak? should the one who wields the weapon deserve to kill if they're weak? the sword is the vessel for her brutality as well as her defence against annihilation...

. another aspect to be pondered over is the role her assigned sex at birth or gender identity and expression would play in her portrayal as a character. Goo is someone who has, always, loved and lusted over money and power. both her and Gun are children weaned on poison who take comfort and pleasure in extreme violence and sadism. BUT. BUT. But it's not the same, never the same.

. what happens when your best friend betrays you long before YOU betray him, simply by being a man, just because he has, inherently, without even trying, by birthright, everything YOU wished to be? what do you do when he is the one with the natural, omnipotent power that you so ardently hunger for, and you are nothing but a weapon, a toy, a wild animal to poke and prod? familiarity breeds contempt.

. Goo is someone that hates being underestimated and undervalued. AND THIS is where i think her irreconcilable fragmentation from Gun and Charles and Tom begins.

. She surrounds herself with incredibly strong and equally morally corrupt men (secret friends) to vicariously live through them her own fantasies of enacting unbridled slaughter just for the sake of her own pleasure, her desires that would otherwise be looked upon with unforgivable contempt by a society diseased with patriarchy...

. i would love to go into her experiencing disillusionment under Charles... stowing her beliefs in a fallible God, worshipping said God with blood and until he ends up demanding her own... would a believer betray the deity? if she loses her identity, what is the basis of her existence, then?

. some style analysis- I feel like she would EAT in these vintage corporate high fashion pieces from jacques fath/ralph lauren/christian dior

. lmao I feel like I rambled without making much sense but I would love to explore fem goo more and thanks to you anon!!! HAVE AN INCREDIBLE DAY ILY

edit. THIS IS MORE THAN THREE BUT I YAP TOO MUCH AND CANNOT COUNT SO FORGIVE ME!!!

[sleep-token-confessions]

I haven’t had the opportunity to attend a Sleep Token Ritual and I am living vicariously through snippets on social media platforms and YouTube videos. I am so excited to see them filling out arenas and find myself smiling every time I see Vessel singing for tens of thousands of people. I can only imagine the feeling, the electricity zapping through his veins - what a rush. I want them to continue touching souls, their music resonates with so many and we are all floating in their majestic ocean. What a glorious ascension and what a time to be alive to witness it unfold.

.

[pedropascallme]

oh god i’m feeling the shayne guilt too. i also have a huge crush on courtney so it’s like a double homicide hehe

i think as long as the feeling is not a weird parasocial thing (we never stood a chance, neither of them have stolen your beloved crush from you, and they are clearly both happy) then it’s okay. it’s a lot of information to take in at once - not only are they not single, but they’re MARRIED, and to each OTHER? i’m still reeling i love them.

anyway, i think as everyone gets used to their relationship being canon irl, the guilt will go away. i hope so, anyway, i miss my fluffy imaginary dates with them

- 💌

DOUBLE HOMICIDE!!

Yeah, I think you're totally right. I think a lot of people project a sort of reality onto their celebrity crushes that makes them more "real," in the sense that they go about their crush on said celebrity as they would a person they know irl. Which, fine, whatever, but you also have to remember that above all else, these people do not KNOW you. They don't have any semblance of a relationship with you, and they are allowed to pursue their own relationships.

I think the issue with Shayne and Courtney especially is people feel entitled to know about their entire relationship (timeline, wedding, etc.) both because they're like, conventionally attractive people who have been online for a while, but also because people seem to live vicariously through them as far as their romance goes. Yet another reason why I really respect Damien's approach on stream last night where he was basically like "I'm not telling you anything that my friends haven't already said or told me I can say," essentially letting everybody know that he (and other cast members) wouldn't let themselves be a vessel for that kind of parasociality.

But like, they're happy! And they're more than allowed to be happy! I honestly think they're entitled to having silly newlywed honeymoon time and if that means we won't get any information for a while or ever, that's fine!!!! I, personally, am so fucking happy for them and have been a quiet shipper for as long as they've been on the channel.

And it's ok if you still consume reader insert fics or fantasize about either of them, as long as you aren't actively showing them these things and forcing them to look at stuff that would make them uncomfortable. Fics are for fandom spaces, not necessarily for the people they're about, and that's a huge boundary that I think those of us who write fics on smoshblr are really good at understanding and respecting.

[calyroco]

Do you think this situation Tuya is in maybe reinforced Tuya's feelings of being drawn towards Maika once she found out what Maika was made to function as a vessel for another entity? The both of them are doomed to have to fight to be able to exist in their own bodies. Maika aagainst Zinn and Tuya against this omni-baroness being.

Maybe there is a part of Tuya that felt it was inevitable that she would lose herself and was living vicariously through someone who she felt still had the foolishness to cling to individuality: Maika.

Even though she doesn't want to lose herself, there is always that dread that she will and the feeling that she won't be quite strong enough to fight against that no matter how badly she wants to. So seeing someone assert "I'm me. I'm here and I'm staying here. I'm maintaining control " when faced with the situation of cohabitating in a body with a being who could eat her up might be inspiring. Maybe that's what compelled her to call for Maika in this moment

[sleepanonymous]

hi! wanted to ask a few people this: since wembley is in 2 weeks, do you have any predictions on what might happen, or do you think sleep token will do anything special?

Hey Anon! Ty for the ask (and I'm also super sorry if I'm the last person to answer). I have a few predictions for the Wembley Ritual, yeah, mostly what I’ve heard from other fans, though. I think the majority of these were already listed by others, but here are my predictions in order of least likely to most likely:

Sleep Token will unmask I honestly never see them unmasking, at least not on stage. There may be identity acknowledgement at some point, since it’s getting harder and harder for fans to dodge that information, but I don’t think we will ever see Sleep Token live on stage performing without their masks, especially at Wembley. It would go against the “separation of art from the artist” viewpoint that Vessel and the band have.

Vessel will speak I don’t think Vessel will directly address the audience for similar reasons that I mentioned above. The focus is on Sleep Token’s music, not on the people performing it.

The ritual will be professionally recorded/live streamed The band has strict photography rules and employs their own photographer for a reason. Also I'm 95% certain that their photographer had said in a TikTok live several weeks back that the band did not want their rituals professionally recorded. (If I'm remembering that incorrectly or if that statement is out of context, please let me know, I don't have TT and didn't watch that live)

Hozier will be present Not saying it’ll be a collab/duet, but... Hozier is playing the same venue on December 15th sooo it’s possible he might be spotted watching Sleep Token (like Will Ramos was at BRRF 2023).

A new AI-voice message will be played for the audience I’m not sure what it would say, but they’ve played messages for fans all last September/October as well as important ritual dates like the 2021 Heavy Music Awards and the Room Below ritual.

Vessel will confuse the lyrics on Aqua Regia 🎵🎶No wonder my arms are still ringing 🎶🎵 (I can’t be the only person who loves when this happens, right? I just think it’s endearing)

It will be a regular show As much as it sucks, this might just be a ritual with nothing spectacularly out of the ordinary. Even if this is the case, it’s still going to be an amazing experience for all 12.5k fans in attendance, and all other fans who will live vicariously through their recordings on YouTube, Instagram, and TikTok.

Sleep Token will play Take Me Back to Eden and/or Euclid live for the first time It’s gonna happen. It might actually happen during one of the Germany rituals, but it will definitely happen this year (if they don’t I will be so disappointed, like you have no idea)

[paradiserottttt]

— INTRODUCING , 𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐃𝐀 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃 .

*     ◟    :    〔   angela bassett  ,      cis-woman    +   she/her    〕      IMELDA UNDERWOOD ,      some say you’re a  SIXTY-FIVE         lost soul among the neon lights.      known for being both  RESOLUTE  and  CALLOUS,  one can’t help but think of  KING   by   FLORENCE + MACHINE  when you walk by.    are you still a    BOSS  at    WHITE CROCODILES ,     even with your reputation as the KING KILLER?     i think we’ll be seeing more of you and   RULING WITH AN IRON HEART AND IRON FIST , PERFECTLY LACQUERED RED NAILS  ,  A SHREWD SMILE CARRYING GENERATIONS OF SECRETS  although we can’t help but think of MARCIA ROY (SUCCESSION) , VIOLET CRAWLEY (DOWNTOWN ABBY) , JESSICA PEARSON (SUITS) , whenever we see you down these rainy streets.   

— STATS . FULL NAME . imelda sophia underwood NICKNAMES . immy, mel BIRTHDAY . january 9th AGE . sixty-five GENDER . cis-woman PRONOUNS . she/her ORIENTATION . bisexual biromantic FAMILY . emiliano underwood (husband)†, adeline underwood (daughter), hector underwood (son) OCCUPATION . owner of new york ballet company boss @ white crocodiles MARKINGS/TATTOOS . a tattoo of a river on the inside of her wrist PIERCINGS . earlobe piercings HEIGHT . 5’4

— PERSONALITY . POSITIVE TRAITS . steadfast, ambitious, maternal, trustworthy, reliable, stoic NEGATIVE TRAITS . authoritarian, demanding, haughty, narrow-minded, opinionated, venomous  LANGUAGES . english, spanish, russian, italian, french EDUCATION . high school and some college MBTI . estj (the executive) ENNEAGRAM . type 3 (the achiever) MORAL ALIGNMENT . lawful neutral.  DEADLY SIN . pride  HEAVENLY VIRTUE . diligence ZODIAC . capricorn sun  — BIOGRAPHY . tw: murder, car accidents ROMILDA HARRIS IS AN EXCEPTIONALLY CRUEL WOMAN. Especially in comparison to Imelda— something she’s sure to remind her children of on a regular basis. She accepts nothing short of perfection, an impossible expectation to meet considering her mother’s perpetually moving goalpost. Still, Imelda attempts to indulge her every whim and fancy. She excels in her schooling, piano, etiquette, and ballet lessons, and while it would never be enough to satiate her— no one could deny Imelda of her material successes. At least, until she’s made to share the spotlight with her older brothers. Only then is Imelda met with the back burner, indefinitely condemned to living in their shadow.

She despises them for it. Imelda despises that she works infinitely harder while still reaping infinitely fewer rewards. As she skyrockets to the top of her class, ascending to the role of prima ballerina in the New York Ballet Company, Imelda remains unsatisfied. While maintaining a life as a socialite is simple enough for her to manage, she watches as her brothers’ climb the rank in her family’s company, knowing it’s power that she truly desires. Eventually, she accepts that it was never something she’d gain within her own family. Not when her father hardly acknowledges she exists, and her mother seeing her as nothing but a vessel to live vicariously through.

The night she meets EMILIANO UNDERWOOD begins like any other night. It is the night after auditions, and several ballerinas celebrate at a nearby ritzy bar. Emiliano happens to be there with who Imelda eventually discovers are other members of White Crocodiles. He’s only a capo then— despite always having aspirations to be something more, an ambition she learns during their eventual courtship. He’s someone her parents would never approve of, and Imelda would be lying if that hadn’t been part of his appeal. Emiliano introduces her to a different sort of a power— a power to be taken in the hands of those most worthy.

Her family is more than aware of what Emiliano actually does for a career, despite it largely going unspoken. They turn a blind eye to the Underwoods’ immense wealth, pretending as if a family could truly amass that sort of money from owning a sanitation company. Her mother begs her to marry one of the well connected suitors her family possess in their back pocket, but Imelda chooses Emiliano each and every time (even today, she’d always choose him.) Her family doesn’t outright shun him, but they aren’t necessarily welcoming either.

When they’re eventually married, both at the age of twenty-five, it is the Underwoods Imelda primarily spends her time with. She learns the inner workings of the sanitation company. With the passing of time comes the family’s further trust in her. She learns the inner workings of the mob, eventually informing Emiliano of her plans to join the ranks. He despises such an idea at first, but gradually warms up to the idea— at the very least, he is grateful to have her mind as a resource. In fact, the very moves that propel Emiliano to the position of boss are almost solely her doing.

She bears two children, Adeline and Hector— and she loves them both immensely. Though they’d beg to differ, Adeline has always been her favorite. The truth is, Adeline recognized too much of Emiliano within her son, and for that reason alone, she would always hold some degree of resentment toward him. Him being noticeably less capable than his sister does not help his case either. Imelda remains by their side for the first years of their life, though this duty becomes split with the nannies as Imelda’s role within the family business is furthered.

It is not until Emiliano has been boss for some years that Imelda realizes the mob would never reach its full potential under his rule. Her husband, who has grown increasingly disillusioned and paranoid over the years, had begun listening to her less and less. He’s hardly the man she once knew or married, proving that his rise to power had ironically led to his undoing. It becomes increasingly noticeable to many that Emiliano is not fit to lead, something that others outside of the family begin to take notice of. Imelda refused to let her or her children remain vulnerable in that way, and for that reason— she knew something must be done.

As far as the wider world knows, Emiliano Underwood met his demise in a tragic car accident. It’s later revealed that the breaks in his vehicle were tampered with, but the person responsible is never located. As the White Crocodiles mourn their boss, many speculate who was behind the accident, but never is the finger pointed at the grieving widow Imelda. The do not question her when she steps into the role of boss, never once questioning her as she ushers the mafia into an unmatched era of prosperity. It is ADELINE alone who holds the truth of the unspoken circumstances behind the death of Emiliano. Otherwise, she is a king killer through rumor alone.

— ; TLDR Prima Ballerina turned mob boss. Did she kill her husband??? Idk probably.

[spacebetweenheartbeats]

dear dad, here's why i live in dreamland and not in the real world

in the real world, i'm forced to be the vessel for your dreams, the person you vicariously live through.

in my dreams, i get to be whoever i want.

world famous writer? why not?

star choreographer? heck yeah!

a teacher who'll love teaching? sure!

a loving wife to another woman? of course!

i get to be the things i want to be. i get to be happy and free and dance to my own tune - not under pressure from you to keep studying 24/7 and go achieve the whole world.

please understand. leave me and my dreams alone - i'm going to end up a miserable engineer like you anyway, just stop disregarding my passion.

[harrytheehottie]

saying taylor's beauty is attainable is insane and racist they love undermining black women and then nagging not to make things about race like ok literally everything they do say takes on a racist agenda when they're constantly saying harries only like her cause they can live vicariously through her or suggesting she's a nobody d-lister on top of other absurd accusations they make about nonwhite fans using her as a vessel for validation from harry it's all hideous and idgaf about the white girls before cause there's a whole other level of racism at play here from what was an already racist and misogynistic fanbase

like saying her beauty is “attainable” and not the LA transplants who are carbon copies of one another like you can’t hit up a hair salon and a med spa pack yourself up with some juvaderm and become one of their tethereds likeeee… and if we are going to talk about living through his girlfriends let’s not talk about the bs I had to read from Jan 2021 - Nov 2022 😭😭😭 like I can’t

[cttrajan1206]

This post is my favourite expression of being trans and i am overjoyed everytime I see it.

So, I've written my own take on it too, as a closeted-to-parents transmasc genderfluid person with no intention for surgery. In my opinion, OP does it more concisely and with a beautiful elegance but I wanted to have my own stab at it anyway

A parasite's confession to murder. [5.3.24]

Her parents do not know yet,

but I have killed their precious daughter.

Even as a child, I had already

wrapped her throat, around her neck,

with choking grasps, clasped steadfast with wait.

A chaining collar that she only grew into,

suffocating her breath

with every step walked with growth,

reattaching, reaffirming, replacing

roots anew with fresher air and ground -

Her asphyxiated gasps held tight to my palms,

begging for release to her tears,

for acid to pour as blood

and for seams to tear

her limbs apart, to restart,

to live.

She is not buried.

To bury the body would be

to leave evidence of a crime,

and this was a mercy to her -

not punishment undivine.

Her Allah came to her and

Alhamdulillah laid her limp body at my feet.

I eat in excess always,

and so I granted her final rasp,

unclasped her ribs of their cage,

pried them open and dug inside,

scooped up manual gore

a visceral crimson dripping from my fingers -

it tasted delicious.

All of it.

Not a single drop left

but the dried husk of skin

still hanging tanned brown and whole.

I crawled inside her hide,

hidden within her beauteous skin

and here I puppet her body,

an array of radiant marionettes

my siphonorous system of parasitic pawns

each swapping shifting genders entirely every day,

refreshing her nerves far more efficiently

than updating skin cells every year.

All carrion left after

this near decade of rotting corpse

has already been slurped up and licked clean

by my hooked tongue and my trusty teeth,

identical blood coursing through

the uncanny valley I inhabit with her as vessel.

My animated comedies far outperform her tragedy,

her parody of a happy child pales in comparison

to my theatrical presence as a thriving creature.

Fools who were convinced by her half hearted acting

had yet to see the cracks in her professionalism.

I parrot my newfound joys with expert mimicry of her voice

and vicariously through my use of her biomass,

the old ghost can possess life.

Her parents will discover that my eyes were not hers

and that my lips lick red the blood of hers

and that my limbs are not stiff as were hers

and that my words cut with a knife that hurts -

but when they question why,

I'll smile, as my surgical teeth

provide no aid to my voice.

I merely hold no inhibitions

unlike that tearful shaking child.

That pain is all they have left of her.

And when they tearfully tear at me, begging for her back

only my laughter will greet their cries -

as is it not delightfully dramatic,

is it not deliciously ironic,

that such dear, caring parents took a decade

to realise their daughter had run and died?

- Sumi Nam Kita Rakhtam

[Note: Fun fact i did this on my company computer's notepad app and thus the og file has "THIS IS A POEM AND A METAPHOR" written all over it lmao]

whats cool about being trans is my parents are totally right. i did kill their beautiful son. im the thing that animates his corpse in an ever more convincing parody of a happy girl. i devoured him from the inside out and now there is nothing left of him and he is dead dead dead and there is only me, with my hollow eyes and dark eyeliner and long hair, and my big smile. my limp, effeminate gestures belie the marionetting of the boy they loved. my fagginess is his death. already his body becomes a fitter home for my parasitism in full; the tits, the hips, the thighs. sorry about your kid. thanks for the biomass <3

[colcon]

warning for i guess a tadbit of metaphorical maybe-unreality (calling myself a werewolf when like. i have never actually turned into a wolf and i probably can’t cause of the laws of physics n shit)

ough i get it it’s like. i don’t know how to be myself because myself is so. just vague. i feel like a ghost possessing my own body sometimes and really that metaphor is the only way i can actually grasp who i am. and there’s an identity that i put on like a fucking mascot suit that i’m attached to, but it’s different from me. and amongst all of that it’s hard to differentiate literally anything. so much so that i just sort of stopped being human so i could have some sort of control over my self and my actions and my image. i would rather determine all of this for myself and be seen as a crime against nature than forever live vicariously through the skin of a person who never actually existed at all

like if im unrecognizable i’d rather do it on my own terms you know?

i know lycanthropy and being a gestalt entity are not the same thing but i guess in matters of identity we’re very similar. taking control of that void by force, becoming a self that wasn’t always there but will always be you.

idk man (men?) i’m just spitballing here i have a lot to say about identity and humanity and monstrosity and all that :3

Damn. Lowkey? Diagnosing you with transgenderism based on this message. Prescription: change your hair & your clothes & interact with flesh space & flesh people as much as possible.

The body is an imperfect vessel for the soul, but it's YOUR vessel/vehicle & you must use it to experience things, especially things that can only be experienced via the body. Sometimes we shy away from existing in our bodies because there is something that causes us pain or discomfort. We must experience these feelings, recognise them, and work to resolve them somehow rather then shirking away from the world because of them.

[passionesolja]

I think the entire source of contention with Dark Romance comes down to how the reader views the characters, mostly the main character. If you view the protags of Dark Romance novels as their own people who exist in a fictional world, then yeah reading about them being stalked and sexually assaulted by the male character who they’re supposed be in love with is extremely disturbing. But if you view these characters as self-insert “Y/N” avatars for you as a reader, them being sexually assaulted and stalked isn’t a big deal because the character is a vessel for your wants and desires so their non-consent is just them playing pretend because in reality they do consent because you view yourself as them. And you’re reading dark romance to get off. This isn’t me dragging anybody’s kink but I think that all the discourse would be settled if we just accepted this. So when Dark Romance fans say “these books aren’t romanticizing rape” they really mean that because they’re living vicariously through these characters. It’s a meta form of consensual non-consent. Not co-signing it because I don’t like Dark Romance but I can understand why the group of people who view characters as proxies for their own pleasure don’t understand why outsiders are so off-put but seeing these really graphic and disturbing kinks play out