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#an innocent sleep
yojfull · 5 months
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I just did a reread of the entire October Daye series to look for breadcrumbs and hints in the earlier books towards some of the big reveals. The following contains spoilers for all books through An Innocent Sleep, so I’m hiding it all under a cut.
As of Book 18, we have found both Oberon and Titania hiding out in relatively minor characters in the San Francisco area, as well as Janet, and it’s clearly hinted that Maeve is also in the neighborhood. Janet was a housewife in Berkeley, Oberon was a cop in San Francisco, and Titania was October’s changeling friend Stacy. Upon rereading, there were more clues for Titania than Oberon or Janet, but there was also more time building that story. Accordingly, I think Maeve will have more breadcrumbs as well. The following is a list of potential candidates, and the arguments for and against them through the whole series.
There are clues scattered throughout, but especially in the last 3 books. From Be The Serpent - “[find] Mom lurking under a rock somewhere. Or maybe a pier. She always did like the water.” When we get to Sleep No More and An Innocent Sleep, the question is who has been shoved outside the main bubble, or is back when they should be gone?
Here is my list of candidates, in no particular order:
Lily
She’s a very rare type of fae, but her powers are extremely restricted by location. She’s strongly tied to water, and has been keeping an eye on Amandine and October for many years. Her court is one of the oldest independents in the region, but she stays out of politics. She also knows about Luna and her ties to Blind Michael. On the other hand, we’re pretty sure she died in Late Eclipses, which might be a problem.
Marcia
There’s a reason this seems to be the most popular fan theory. She’s a weak unspecified changeling who has been there from the very beginning, present at many critical moments, with often inexplicable immunity or reactions. She steps up to be seneschal of Goldengreen, she has no fear of the night haunts, she loves pixies, and resists transformation by Simon (One Salt Sea is a big book for Marcia). In Chimes at Midnight, she reacts to King Giliad discussions as if she remembers him. She is unphased by meeting multiple Firstborn (Ludiaeg and Amphitrite and Eira). Eira also fails to transform her, or she escapes the transformation somehow. We also never see a description of the smell of her magic. She does not appear in Titania’s mirror universe, but we don’t ever go to Goldengreen, so she may still be there. The only real argument against Marcia is she’s too obvious.
Marianne
We haven't met her directly in the novels, but the Windermere’s nursemaid comes up a number of times, saving Arden and Nolan from Oleander and death in the earthquake, helping hide them for years after. While she is missing, Nolan is convinced she is still alive, and brings Marcia to the Duchy of Ships to help him search for her. The biggest arguments come from the novella, Once Broken Faith, where Marianne tells a story with the sentence “because she was happy then, my sweet girl” in reference to Luidaeg, strongly implying Marianne has a sense of ownership. Titania is called “her father's other wife”, which again hints at Marianne being her mother.
Melly
Hob in Shadowed Hills, Kerry's mother. She fits the pattern of background characters close to October, but her inclusion in Titania's illusions makes it less likely.
Mary the Roane
Another background character with significant impact, but her level of contact with the Luidaeg as her mother makes her unlikely.
Julie
Another background character with strong ties to October, and changeling status, plus a transformation type. She does mysteriously vanish in the fight with Titania, but Seanan indicated in a Tumblr post that was an editing hiccup (or was that a false trail?) Her desire to kill October at various points is probably the biggest argument against her as Maeve.
January
One of the people Titania shoves out of the way in her illusion, but also, January *creates* things. She made the first cyberdryad. She died and was resurrected. October says “There had probably been some reason she needed Jan’s existence to keep her reality from crumbling, but i couldn’t think of what it might be”
Minna
Offhand mention in Sleep No More, she deposited servants at Dreaming Glass and vanished. Too offhand for such a major player.
Helmi
Maeve is a creature of the water and the deep, and the most maternal of the three - her presence in Saltmist still gives her visibility to the land, but keeps her safe in the depths, away from Titania’s purview. She's more background than some of the other candidates, with no real unexpected capabilities. Like Marianne, some of the strongest evidence is in the novellas.
My slightly more complicated hypothesis: much like Titania had multiple pasts, Maeve too has gone through multiple identities, in 1906, she was Marianne, the Windemere’s nursemaid, and she sacrificed that version of herself for their survival, becoming Marcia. This explains both why Marcia recalls Giliad, as well as some of the signs pointing to Marianne.
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taraljc · 7 months
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so for the record the undersea version of nighthaunts are going to be giving me nightmares forever now, thanks so much seanan. so incredibly glad I will never have to see a dead lover's face rendered in living eels.
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huachengsromcom · 2 months
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People call Heaven Official’s Blessing / TGCF a slow burn but Hua Cheng is literally courting Xie Lian like they are DATING. Slow burn who??? They’re sleeping next to each other on straw mats and Xie Lian’s offering to cook him dinner and they’re bantering across THE HOME THEY SHARE like a bunch of desperate hussys
San Lang LEAVES XL WITH A KEEPSAKE OF THEIR TIME TOGETHER SLOW BURN WHOMST
They have A DATE in HC’s armoury where they HOLD HANDS and XL pets San Lang’s quivering sword I-
Hua Cheng basically throws himself at this man he’s like you want a sword?? All of them ?? You want ALL THE SWORDS?? Fuck it take the whole room THE WHOLE ROOM JUST COME VISIT I WILL CLEAN THEM FOR YOU
Like he isn’t the king of a whole realm with shit to do
And this is just the first half of the first book—again I ask the world SLOW BURN WHOMST
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yuwuta · 9 days
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"there could be two beds and they will still only one bed trope their way into your heart somehow" exactly! gojo doesn't know what personal space means at aaaaaaall
satoru wouldn’t know the definition of personal space if it smacked him in the forehead, he needs to be close all the time always. 
the “actually, there are two beds” trope with him is so funny esp in a f2l setting because for every night of your trip, he finds some excuse to be in your bed instead of his. actually, he would give up rooming by himself on a group trip if it meant he got to share a room with you, because he’d find a way to share a bed with you. 
the first night, he dumps his entire suitcase on his bed, then showers, and you’re asleep by the time he comes back. and now he’s clean and moisturized and he wants to go to bed and oh no! all his stuff is still on his bed! guess he’ll have to share with you for tonight 😇 
the second and third nights he fakes having a nightmare to crawl into your embrace, and then feeling sick so you’ll coddle him to sleep. 
the fourth night, he showers first and falls asleep on your bed instead of his. you’re the respectful one who takes his bed instead, but ofc he wakes up once you’ve fallen asleep to slide in next to you, and when you groggy and confused he just hushes you back to sleep with a cheeky, “you were in my bed, don’t worry about it.” 
the fifth night, he turns the AC all the way up and says you “looked cold” so he “came to cuddle you” while you were asleep. 
he could find an excuse for every single night as long as you share a room together, but the moment you invite him in, ask him, “satoru, do you wanna share?” his brain short circuits and his face goes all red and you offering does bad bad bad things to him and now he actually has to sleep in his own bed because this is gonna keep him up all night
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 4 months
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best BEAST!!
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yourdoorisunlocked · 3 months
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What A Dish, What A Doll! - Part 3
🎙️【 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑽 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑽 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑽𝑰 】🎙️
𝐀/𝐍: Yup, we're getting into it now. Remember that this man is literally a cannibalistic serial killer who convenes with dark spirits and shit.
But I think that just makes him more attractive tbh.
Btw this man is like 6'1 in this story in his human form, so do with that information as you wish. ;)
. . .
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟑,𝟕𝟔𝟖 𝐓𝐖/𝐂𝐖: Descriptive gore, sacrificial rituals, just Alastor-coded shenanigans and levels of down horrendous I'm embarrassed to share... 😭👍 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: - ᴛʜᴇ ꜰʀᴜɪᴛꜱ | ᴘᴀʀɪꜱ ᴘᴀʟᴏᴍᴀ - ꜱʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ
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. . .
There was always a moment when Alastor had to take a small smoke before finishing off his prey, allowing the adrenaline of the hunt to wear off as he reveled in his latest kill.  
A gentle evening wind brushed against his ears, ruffling his cocoa-brown hair as he smiled up at the full moon with teeth as white as its luminous surface. Translucent curtains of gloom drifted past the celestial orb of night, just as the scent of a marshy swampland drifted up and enveloped Alastor in its nostalgic, wistful aroma of home.  
Though he relished the private, intimate moments he spent with you, times like these, where his mind could simply slip away from the drag of life and reflect upon the day, were as precious and rare as gold.  
Alastor simpered to himself as he fixated upon you being the star-struck little darling you were, mad with elation to finally be able to watch him host his radio show in the studio you both worked at. And he imagined you’d needed such a treat, after your delightful breakfast at that restaurant you’d wanted to try out for so long.  
It was too bad. Alastor quite liked that cozy little diner. Oh, well.  
Perhaps you could work there yourself, now that a fresh, new spot for a job had opened up at the restaurant, perfect for a lovely little doll like you. You wouldn’t have to deal with your rather overbearing supervisor anymore, who gave Alastor much more leeway than you.  
Ha! Who was he kidding? Like he’d ever let you take so much as six steps away from him, from the safety he could provide.  
He couldn't have you running around willy-nilly, gaining the attention of unworthy scumbags, after all! 
Then again, Alastor didn’t mind the image of you rushing around, serving him ever so politely in one of those form-flattering, tight waitress uniforms that had swept New Orleans recently.  
But that was an experience for him, and him alone. Besides, the reverie of having you as a pretty little assistant would do just fine, for now. Perhaps he could bring that idea to fruition, someday.  
Oh, one can only dream!  
With a last puff of smoke that condensed in the chilly night air, Alastor disposed of the cigarette and ground it into the dirt path with his heel. Maybe he could use an assistant around the studio; being the most charming, captivating voice in all of Louisiana wasn’t easy, after all! 
Plus, it meant more alone time with you, and your dazzling, melodic voice, and that divine smile that he could only wish to be blessed with. He drank it all up, your enthusiasm to be in his presence, your witty yet flustered company...
God, he could just eat you up–  
Muffled groans and wails broke him from his peaceful midnight musing, and he turned his attention towards the small shack he used. Normally, he’d relish in such helplessness from his latest kill, though his patience was wearing thin, tonight.  
But Alastor needed this one to be alive. The Loa didn’t favor cold, dead prey.  
Then again, it never complained of the condition its scraps were in. Only that Alastor could provide any. 
“Why, hello there!” The radio host’s air of exuberant showmanship rolled off him in waves as he stood above the crumpled form of the waiter who had insulted Alastor’s very being with his rotten presence.  
A throbbing pain at the front of his head where he had been knocked out with a bat ached painfully, and he cradled his wound with an anguished groan.  
“Ouch! That’s got to hurt, ha-ha!” Polished western-style shoes thumped against the wooden floor of the shack as Alastor made his way over to his victim, before bashing his head against the floor, reveling in his pained groan before he slumped in Alastor’s grip.  
“Hm, a bit meatier than I had expected... He’ll have quite a feast, tonight!” A dark chuckle, laced with venom and coated with mirth filled the small room, and Alastor hoisted the body over his head and dragged the unconscious prey out into the forest.  
Darkness enveloped the waiter’s mind, like a weighted blanket upon his consciousness as the pain worsened, before fading as his body gave out.  
. . .   
The sound of shoveling and short, exhausted huffing awakened him as he slowly came to, and the wintry night air brought him from slumber like the bony, thinned hands of Death itself.  
Shadows danced around his vision as his eyes fluttered open, and the light of Alastor’s lantern roused him fully awake. The quiet croaking of frogs, and the midnight lullaby of chirping crickets filled the otherwise eerie silence. A large, wilting tree hung over him, where moss and fungus sprouted from each branch as its hanging leaves reached down to him and the scent of dampened swampland baffled his senses. 
W-Where... Where the hell am I...?
Alastor watched with an amused smile as the pitiful lad tried to raise a hand to hoist himself up from the dirt, only to struggle for a few moments against his cursed restraints that bound him to the forest floor.  
Slim-fit gloves tightened against the handle of his shovel as Alastor leaned against it with a condescending grin, moonlight bouncing off his glasses as he looked down at the pitiful prey.  
“Oh, please don’t struggle too much. I did go to all that trouble of tying you up, after all,” Alastor cooed from his standing position above his victim, like he could possibly escape from the rune-encrusted stakes he had been bound to. 
“Now, be polite...  
And say hello to my old friend, for me.”  
A gust of wind howled around the pair, bringing Alastor’s attention towards the crooked trees standing tall against the swamp. The bushes rustled softly beneath its branches, when suddenly, a buck jumped out from behind the bramble, kicking at the dirt and eyeing Alastor’s little summoning circle with curiosity.  
It was a shame he hadn’t brought his hunting gun; those magnificent antlers would’ve been a dazzling addition to his collection. 
Also, the idea of impressing you with such a display had Alastor catching himself drifting off into his fantasies yet again. He really needed to stop doing that. You were turning the demented radio host into a moony-eyed sap, and in the middle of a sacrifice, no less!  
The deer slowly trotted towards Alastor with its head tilted in confusion as it eyed him, regarding the man with caution.  
Slowly, the radio host lowered himself into a respectful bow, and the buck reciprocated. It strayed a little closer, and a step too far proved to be its undoing.  
Crack.  
The busboy jolted with each snap of bone within the animal's body, the grotesque sounds echoing across the forest. The deer grew suddenly limp and collapsed upon the forest floor as the waiter’s eyes bulged out of his head. 
“W-What...? What the fuck is that!?” Alastor ignored his victim’s struggle behind him as he kicked at the chilled, marshy dirt with his bare, scabbed feet, hoping to create some distance between himself and the massive, horned beast that was forming rapidly.  
A futile effort, really... 
An animalistic screech of anguish would be the last sound that the deer ever made, as it finally fell completely under the control of whatever unholy beat had been foolishly summoned into existence. Shadows flooded the inside of the poor animal, hollowing it out at a rapid rate, and the unseen horror took its puppet upon a sleeve to speak to the mortal who summoned it. 
Whether it was utterly foolish or terribly sadistic was a true mystery. A gamble that made these little summonses the least bit entertaining, particularly if it was the latter. 
The sound of groaning wood echoed across the forest as two large, crooked antlers bent towards the sky. The creature’s hanging ribcage protruded from the gaping hole in its stomach, revealing bloody, mossy innards riddled with mold and buzzing flies that gluttonously fed upon the mangled buck's entrails. 
An ominous emerald glow shimmered within the buck’s maw, and two stark-black eyes fell into its open mouth, before sliding down its tongue
The deer's organs were promptly squeezed out of the corpse's slit belly and dropped onto the ground as the carcass thinned dramatically. A puddle of thick, glistening liquid that was much too dark to be considered regular animal blood had gathered beneath it.
Drip. Drip. Drip. 
Squelch. 
Tarred, ashen-gray skin glimmered underneath the moonlight, as a guttural roar shook the forest, leaving the branches trembling with terror. Alastor stood before the beast with his hands crossed behind his back with an unbothered, almost bored expression.  
As the Loa stood before him in its complete, beastly form, Alastor brushed off an imaginary speck of dirt from his coat sleeve before opening his arms up to his old friend with a wide grin that nearly split his face in half. It had been a while since he’d borne witness to a proper summoning.  
“Quite a good show, my friend! Captivating as always,” Alastor called out cheerfully, clapping once or twice in emphasis.  
“Ɱվ ƒօɾʍ էąҟҽʂ էհҽ ìժҽղէìէվ օƒ ҽąçհ ʂօմӀ էհąէ çąӀӀʂ էօ ʍҽ, འօէէҽժ ටղҽ,” the Loa's voice answered his old friend in a deep, gravely rasp from the mutilated buck's unhinged jaw. It stood proudly on its hind legs as it hunched over Alastor with a low rumble, and the stench of rotting flesh overpowered the natural, swampy scent of the forest, to the radio host’s distaste. 
“Then I do hope my soul has been quite the treat to replicate!” he clasped his hands together behind his back, folding his arms tightly behind him. 
“చհվ հąʂէ էհօմ çąӀӀҽժ ʍҽ հҽɾҽ, մքօղ էհìʂ ղìցհէ?” Its impatience wore thin as it looked upon the setting of the candlelit circle, and the pleasant aroma of fresh blood brought the Loa’s attention to the young man tied up behind Alastor.  
“Why, of course! How impolite of me to keep you waiting,” the excited glint in the radio host’s eye evolved into a look of complete madness as he gestured to the poor sap behind him, who gaped up at the Loa’s ghastly form in horror.  
“Presenting the main course for tonight, this pitiful little insect that I had the unfortunate displeasure of stumbling upon! Though it seems this chap appears to be faring far worse than I!” A cynical chuckle dripped from his thin-lipped grin as he bowed before the Loa like a true showman.  
Alastor hadn’t even noticed he had been rambling like a supervillain, monologuing about his latest victim as if it were a typical evening hosting his radio show. 
“įէ ʂҽҽʍʂ էհօմ հąէհ.. φҽɾʂօղąӀ հìʂէօɾվ աìէհ էհìʂ օղҽ,” the Loa rumbled thoughtfully, now circling the panicking prey as he thrashed in his roped constraints. 
“Ah, just a little disagreement, is all. Apparently, manners are no longer an important matter of discussion within one’s own household,” Alastor ‘tsked’, shaking his head in mock disappointment, “A shame, truly.”   
“įէ ʂʍҽӀӀʂ ƒɾҽʂհ,” the horned creature inhaled deeply, stinking putridly of decay as he bent over the trembling busboy, its skeletal back cracking and snapping as he further hunched over. Its victim blubbered pathetically, shaking his head as hopeless tears spilt from his eyes while he choked out helpless pleads. 
“Ꝉìҟҽ… Ͳҽɾɾօɾ…”   
In a flurry of shadows, the Loa pounced upon its feast, rumbling with fervor and gluttony as its fangs tore through flesh, ripping its prey apart as it aimed for the meatiest bits of its meal.  
The agonized moans of the damned that protruded from the Loa's maw conducted the symphony of terror, and the screams of the disrespectful runt carried the harmony as Alastor stood off to the side, relishing the gory display.  
When the Loa had finished, a long, blackened tongue licked its chops as it rumbled in satisfaction. It turned towards Alastor, who bowed before it, as was a respectful custom whenever the God finished its meal. 
"Ͳհìʂ աąʂ զմìէҽ ʂąէìʂƒąçէօɾվ. చհąէ çąӀӀʂ մքօղ էհվ ʂքօղէąղҽօմʂ օƒƒҽɾìղց, էօղìցհէ, ȺӀąʂէօɾ…?" 
"Oh, I was just taking out some trash. Honestly, you're doing me quite a favor, old friend! Think of it as a celebration for our friendship," Alastor grinned impudently, before bidding the Loa a silent farewell as he turned on his heel. 
"Now, I'm afraid that our time together must be cut short. I have a little darling to check up upon, and she is quite the feisty one, I'll have you know!" Oh, how perfectly this night had ended. Ridding himself, and you the trouble of ever dealing with such a pest ever again, and cuddling up to you while discussing your day over dinner, and ending it with a-
"చհօ ìʂ ʂհҽ?" 
Alastor stopped in his tracks, his smile beginning to strain and actually make his cheeks ache as he half-turned back to the Loa. Fuck.  
It seems that his utter enthusiasm for running his mouth about you has overridden his reasoning. 
"Whatever do you mean, my friend? Don't tell me you've taken a liking to my darling?" He pointed a teasing finger at it with a wide, knowing smirk that bordered upon a warning. 
The god eyed Alastor with pure contempt, before huffing impatiently and nodding towards Alastor's house in the distance. 
"Ƕҽɾ. Ͳհҽ βɾìցհէ ටղҽ. చհҽղ հąʂէ էհօմ ƒąӀӀҽղ ƒօɾ ʂմçհ ƒɾìѵօӀìէìҽʂ?" 
Alastor stubbornly clasped his hands together behind his back and stood tall as the ancient god bent down towards his level, empty sockets glowing an emerald green and practically blinding him as it asked again. 
"į աìʂհ էօ ҟղօա օƒ էհìʂ… ժìʂէɾąçէìօղ էհąէ հąʂէ էհҽҽ ìղ ą ҍìղժ ʂմçհ ąʂ էհìʂ," for the first time in thousands of years, the god's interest had been caught. Quite a peculiarity, considering that the Loa did not care for petty mortal matters that Alastor would rarely partake in himself, but the mention of a girl brought slight surprise to it. 
And judging by the glimpses the ancient being took within Alastor's mind, he could understand why the radio host had taken such a liking to you. 
Like the sway of wind, by the bloom of daffodils, you were akin to a wicked, unruly summer wind sweeping up sea salt and touching the hearts of those you met, everywhere you went. 
A rare commodity, in a corrupt world such as this. 
"Oh, well I suppose I must've slipped the word about her. Well!" Alastor placed his fingertips together as the memory of first meeting you surfaced in his mind.  
"I'd be happy to tell you how we met! It all began when I came across the darling little Doll in a charming diner. I'll tell you; the place couldn't have shined as much as it had without her presence, ha-ha!" 
The eldritch horror noted the complete adoration that swept the normally deranged man off his feet. Alastor’s animated announcer's voice and occasional jazz hands did all the talking for him as he spoke of you. 
The spirit never thought it'd see the day... 
"She was certainly efficient at her job, as well! Carried the entire restaurant on her back, in my humble opinion," of course, Alastor was completely biased in his reasoning. He'd take any excuse to sing your praises all night. 
"Why, she even gave me a shock when she rolled into the building with a pair of skates, one Thursday afternoon! Quite the compliment to that stunning dress pattern, I must say..." 
How curious, that the boy the Loa had met all those years ago, the one who seemed to have no such interest in pursuing relationships, who outwardly expressed disgust at the mere thought of being touched found someone like you to keep him company. 
"So, I decided to give the Doe a chance at my radio station, and we immediately hit it off!" The radio host's smile nearly cracked his face in half as he fondly recalled his first meeting with you, and the spirit tilted its head to the side. 
How strange, indeed... 
Well, now it just had to meet the girl who had captivated Alastor so and sprung upon this new sacrifice earlier than what was expected of him. 
Then, the Loa nodded towards the direction of Alastor's house in the twilight, softly hitting its hoof against the ground with an insistent thud. 
"į աìʂհ էօ ʍҽҽէ հҽɾ. į աąղէ էօ ҟղօա ահąէ ҟìղժ օƒ ʂօմӀ հąʂ çąքէìѵąէҽժ էհҽҽ ʂօ." 
Alastor slowly turned towards the beast, whose antlers seemed to grow even larger in return, sensing the human's challenge. 
"And what makes you believe that you have a right to meddle in my life, if it does not offend you to ask? Her soul is not yours, and her heart shall soon lie with me."  
The Loa huffed, before bowing its head towards the maddened, lovesick mortal. How foolish, the way such silly human matters have clouded the ever-articulate mind of one of his oldest acquaintances.  
Honestly, what did Alastor think it was going to do? Snatch you away from him? 
Like it'd ever get the chance. 
"βմէ ìէ ժօҽʂղ'է. ហօէ աìէհìղ çմɾɾҽղէ çìɾçմʍʂէąղçҽʂ. į çօմӀժ ƒì× էհąէ, հօաҽѵҽɾ," The Loa rumbled, knowing it was pricking at a soft spot as the young man shot him an unamused glare with a raised eyebrow.  
"į ʂհąӀӀ ҍҽ ժìʂçɾҽҽէ, օƒ çօմɾʂҽ. Ⱥ ʍҽɾҽ ìղէҽɾƒҽɾҽղçҽ ƒɾօʍ ąƒąɾ." Alastor scoffed and fully turned to the Loa with a sneer darkening his too-wide smile, his teeth seeming sharpened in the glint of the moonlight. 
To the Loa, Alastor appeared merely to be a puppy baring its pint-sized fangs. 
"Ha-ha! You seem to misunderstand me, my friend," he stepped boldly towards the beast, his hands folded behind his back with half-lidded eyes that dared it to cross the very clear line he had drawn.  
"I believe you have crossed a bit of a line, there, implying that I do not own her heart," the radio host sneered; a threatening grimace hidden behind a thin mask portraying a cheeky, unbothered smile. But the underlying threat was clear. You were not to be touched. 
Honestly, Alastor reminded the Loa of another, more ethereal being it had met long ago. Madly in love and willing to do anything, preform any atrocity, to protect his fleeting fancy. Looking back, he was rather short for someone of his status, and impossibly pale, having a sort of 'heavenly' hue to it. 
How ironic. 
The Loa looked upon the human with slight amusement dancing within its soulless, ominously glowing sockets. The mortal held such determination, such drive to keep you solely within his hold, a kind of devotion it hadn’t seen in centuries. 
Such a pitiful display of favor for his new toy had the Loa truly interested, now. It was sure that Alastor would do anything to keep you, anything to win your affections. 
Of course, good things came to those who waited. And so, with a soft nod, the Loa dropped the subject. 
“Ⱥʂ էհօմ աìʂհҽʂ. Ͳհօմցհ, ʍìղҽ օƒƒҽɾ ʂհąӀӀ ʂէìӀӀ ʂէąղժ." 
“Duly noted.” And with that, Alastor’s clipped tone snapped through the air, cutting off the conversation entirely. The distant hum of insects whispered against his ears as he waited for the Loa’s dismissal. 
"ƑąɾҽաҽӀӀ, འօէէҽժ ටղҽ. į հąѵҽ ҍմʂìղҽʂʂ ҽӀʂҽահҽɾҽ.” Finally, the Loa turned away from the mortal, its shadows dropping the corpse of the deer and vanishing from the scene. Alastor paid no mind to it, however, as there typically wouldn’t be any human nor animal remains, come sunrise. 
The god fed gluttonously, after all. 
Alastor swiftly turned on his heel and started back upon the path. “Adieu, my good friend! I do hope we’ll see each other again,” as he strode further away from the ghastly terror, all mirth had evaporated from his voice, leaving a biting cold edging at his words and rivaling the winter chill as he neared the house. 
But every step closer to you thawed his heart as he strolled through the bramble, choosing to shove away the thoughts that mulled over the Loa's offer. That would be something for 'Tomorrow Alastor' to deal with.
It wasn't long before he had finally made it back to the house, confidently striding across the forest as if nothing had ever happened, and Alastor slipped through the front door, brief as the wind and quiet as a shadow.
He was quite disappointed to see you had left for a bed, and his heart panged with guilt at the thought of you solemnly retreating to your quarters when you realized Alastor was probably working late tonight.
It was far from the truth, but it'd suffice as a good cover.
I'll make it up to her tomorrow.
Carefully, Alastor crept up the stairs, avoiding each loose board and step that would creak under the pressure of his weight. 
Then, after seeming to have climbed a mountain simply to get upstairs, he slowly opened the door to your room, his hands clenching the doorknob to the point where it'd snap in half from his vice grip.
Alastor took steady, silent steps over to your bedframe, standing over your soundly sleeping form with a lovesick simper.
Since when had he grown so infatuated with little ol' you? Was it when you ran up to him with stars in your eyes and that beautiful, kissable smile plastered on your face after you listened to his podcast from start to finish? When you raved about how amazing it was, how captivating he sounded?  
Moonlight was cast over your form, painting a pale, sleek canvas of stardust over your skin as Alastor drank in the sight with trembling fervor. 
Leaning over, he took a hand and carefully twirled a lock of your hair around a slender finger as he stared down at you adoringly.
"Darling... what are you doing to me~?"
As Alastor bent down to nuzzle your loose hair, your scent hit him almost instantly, and he groaned softly as the room became so hot, so unbearably tight as he became ever aware of the throbbing bulge tightened against the confines of his trousers. 
With a heavy, forlorn heart, and an aching erection he'd soon have to tend to, he pulled away from your slumbering form, and brushed a stray lock out of your face.
A warmth crept up to his cheeks as you leaned towards his familiar touch, smiling softly at the mere touch of contact as you mumbled incoherently in your sleep.
"Mmmph... Alastor..."
With a tender, close-lipped simper, Alastor placed a chaste, tender peck to your forehead.
"Sweet dreams, my Doe~."
. . .
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𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: So, I lowkey lied, saying it was gonna be a shorter chapter...
AND THIS ONE ENDED UP BEING EVEN LONGER LMAO 💀💀
I'm sorry, making these longer ones are so much fun, and I can't for the life of me shorten any paragraph or story I'm working on. Even the end notes are an essay long lmao.
Anyway, thanks for reading, as always (~ ̄▽ ̄)~
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juicingbeetles · 7 months
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Halfway into reading Seanan Mcguire's The Innocent Sleep and
And
The cat people are robbing the Costco they're fucking emptying it
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Im shaking
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THEY ROBBED TWO
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Brb im going to rob the costco at midnight with the Cait Sidhe
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fawnaura · 16 days
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I long for sleep, and innocence, and love.
Marceline Desbordes-Valmore, from Modern Poets of France: An Anthology; “Homesickness”
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technoturian · 7 months
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I was talking with my mom about how wild Moiraine having Rand cut open the knot was. She really just let a freshman biology student do open heart surgery on her. His entire previous experience with the One Power was just turning on the tap and holding his face under it until he barfed.
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absolutely-esme · 6 months
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Monster!Tim Coraline AU Idea
This idea would not leave me alone.
It’s a cross between a meta!/magic!Tim au and a Coraline au.
Before I get into it, I feel like I should explain.  I was on a bit of an Eldritch!Batfamily and Cryptid!Batfamily kick.  Then I found a collection of supernatural Tim aus.  Then I stumbled across a Coraline au.  There’s probably also some inspiration in there from vampire au fics.
It didn’t really jell until the idea occurred to me of a scene where some frightened villain asks Tim “What kind of monster are you?” and Tim says “The hungry kind.”
...
The idea is that somewhere back along the way, Tim’s family tree includes some kind of supernatural creature which may or may not have been an eldritch entity.
The supernatural heritage allows Tim to acquire abilities from other entities he has defeated, and Gotham is absolutely full of the supernatural if you pay attention.
Of course, Tim’s power isn’t all sunshine and rainbows.  It actually comes packaged with some pretty nasty side effects.
One of those side effects is perpetual Hunger.  Tim is always Hungry.  There is no way to stop it.  He eats enough to stay healthy, but he still feels Hunger at all times.  Increasing his food intake will not help and will screw up his metabolism and cause him to need more for normal function.  If this was allowed to spiral out of control it could eventually reach a point where he was physically unable to eat the amount of food he needed to function and starved to death on a full stomach. 
Fixing it is stupid hard because this particular sort of magical inheritance is really fucking inconvenient.  And, of course, whatever is up with his biology also makes him insanely susceptible to addiction, so no coffee for him unless he wants caffeine withdrawal symptoms all the time for however long it takes to fix that.  The constant Hunger also makes it difficult to get enough sleep.  Have you ever tried to go to sleep on an empty stomach?  Not easy, was it?  Imagine that every night.
The Hunger is fairly central to the nature of the magic.  Whatever supernatural entity he’s descended from, it is the Hungry kind.  The ritual of defeating another supernatural entity, taking a bit of the defeated entity’s power, and incorporating it into himself serves as a sort of metaphorical devouring, (and metaphors matter more to magic than they do to normal biology).  That’s why he’s able to gain power and abilities from defeated foes. 
...
Tim’s relationship with his parents is complicated.  His supernatural heritage comes from his mother’s side of the family.  She did her best to teach him about it and how to cope with it, but a lot of knowledge was lost over the generations due to persecution forcing those like them into hiding more than once.  There may have been a few individuals who spiraled out of control and caused small-scale famines before losing their lives.  It only takes a few cases for people to decide that a specific category of people is simply not worth the risk of having around.  Janet always referred to herself and Tim (as well as anyone else sharing the condition) as “those afflicted with Gluttony.”  This is the closest they have to a name for the condition.
One of the important things Janet Drake teaches her son is to pursue his passions.  It is incredibly important for individuals like them to have things outside the self that they can draw satisfaction and fulfilment from, things that keep them going in the face of the relentless Hunger.  This is what leads Tim to his night-time photography of Gotham, and eventually to his fascination with the Bats. 
Janet’s passions are archeology and travel.  Unfortunately, traveling from dig site to dig site is not a particularly stable or safe environment to raise a child in.  She needs to do these things to remain in good health.  Without her external coping mechanisms, she could start spiraling.  If she starts spiraling, it might trigger her son to start spiraling too because children in their developmental years are delicate, and this type of hereditary magic is fucking inconvenient (there might be ways of managing things that make it easier to live with, but between the knowledge lost and the risks that come with experimentation, they don’t have much info on how anything works).  She comes home as much as she can without the risk of compromising both their health.
She also taught Tim how to calculate appropriate portion sizes based on nutritional data so as not to screw up his metabolism, and how to fix it if he does mess up.  She also stayed and managed the process the first time it happened because the process of returning the metabolism of one afflicted with Gluttony to normal after it’s gotten out of hand is difficult and unpleasant and Tim wasn’t old enough to handle it by himself.  The nanny that had overfed him hadn’t been malicious or unreasonable, she’d just been operating on the assumption that he had standard human biology.  It took months to get Tim healthy again.  It took several hefty bribes to keep things under wraps.  Janet doesn’t know if there are still people out there hunting their kind, but she’s not willing to risk it.
Janet may not know about the aspect of the family magic that lets them gain powers from defeating other entities.  It’s possible that she was holding off on explaining this until he was older and more ready for the responsibility of multiple superpowers.  It’s also possible that the knowledge got lost somewhere along the way and Janet didn’t discover it herself because she didn’t spend her childhood running around Gotham at night and was more the sort of person who would stay home and read when she had trouble sleeping.
...
Tim discovers his ability to gain abilities from defeating other supernatural things fairly early on.  The type of defeat can vary, but it has to be something of significance.  A fight will work for most, but there are other particular challenges that will work for specific cases.
The first things a young Tim is able to beat are these small things, invisible to most, that gain power from learning secrets.  What that power is used for, I couldn’t tell you.  They don’t seem to do much other than sneak around and learn secrets.  Tim doesn’t know if there’s a proper name for these things or not, but he calls them Secret Hunters.  They are absolutely everywhere in Gotham. 
Secret Hunters are invisible to most, but Tim is able to see them.  It might be because of his own supernatural nature, or it might be something else entirely.  If it’s hereditary it must have skipped his parents’ generation.  Neither of them seem to be able to see them.  Tim gains improved stealth and a sense for when something is hidden from catching Secret Hunters until they wise up and start avoiding him.  (Catching them works in place of a fight because secret hunters primarily operate on stealth and evasion.)
He can’t just magically know secrets, but he can tell when there is a secret.  (He still figured out Batman’s and Robin’s secret identities on his own merit.  The most this ability would have done is alert him to the fact that they had secret identities if that hadn’t already been obvious from the fact that they were wearing masks.)
He also gets various other abilities from other things he encounters while scrambling all over Gotham at night.  Nearly doesn’t get out of some of the scrapes he gets himself into.  He gains the ability to cut with his fingernails as if they were razors from something that nearly killed him.  He gains the ability to climb like a goat from a Jersey Devil.  Etc.
...
At some point, Tim is targeted by a beldam.  He doesn’t get the kind of warnings that Coraline does, but his ability to sense secrets lets him know that the Beldam is hiding something, and any child raised in any part of Gotham knows to be suspicious of things that seem too good to be true.  Tim doesn’t have a convenient seeing stone from the neighbor, but he does have the advantage of his own supernatural nature which the Beldam doesn’t know about.
Tim finds a button-eyed doll that looks like him after his parents leave on yet another trip, and thinks it’s a gift they meant to give him before leaving.  They do often bring interesting souvenirs.  It wouldn’t be at all unusual for them to find an artist who sews dolls to look like people and have one made based on pictures of him.  Later on, he discovers the key. 
This Beldam is older and more powerful than the one from Coraline.  She has more power and more past victims to work with, so she’s able to make a larger, more populated world. 
Oh by the way, I head-canon that the Other versions of people in the Other world are actually past victims of the Other Mother, remade and dressed up for whatever role she has them play.  The three ghosts were just the three most recent and not fully processed for use yet.  That’s why the Others are able to act against her sometimes (Other Wybie saving Coraline from the mirror, Other Father tossing the eye to Coraline) or say things she doesn’t want them too (Other Father says “so sharp you won’t feel a thing” and Other Mother kicks him under the table).
The Other Mother doesn’t know all that Tim knows, so the Other World has inconsistencies like Other Batman and Other Robin sitting across the table from Other Bruce and Other Jason.  She doesn’t know they’re the same people.  She just knows that they’re all important to Tim.  She also tries to tell him to “eat as much as he wants” when his real mother was the one to explain the dangers of attempting to eat to fullness for people with their condition.
There isn’t a cat to warn Tim but he doesn’t need it.  He can sense hidden intentions in everything, and he’s fully capable of uncovering the hidden secrets himself. 
Tim doesn’t have a cat, but he does have Other Robin, who might have been made from whatever remained of someone close to one of the people mirrored in the Other World made for Tim.  He doesn’t remember his life, but somehow he feels incredibly motivated to help a boy who cares dearly for whoever and is willing to let him know that they're living a good life out there in the real world.
Tim discovers the nature of the other world and sets out to free the souls trapped there.  He fights the Beldam will all the viciousness and desperation of someone who knows they’ve only got one shot.  He takes everything he can from this fight as he makes sure she won’t ever hurt anyone again.  He doesn’t stop until the beldam is well and truly dead.  Then he unravels Other Gotham and spills all of the souls out into the world where they can move on and rest.
This is how Tim learns to Sew.  He can’t make entire populated worlds like the beldam, but that’s mostly because he refuses to do what she did.  He can control things he’s made (though there’s limits on how much) and even see through buttons he’s sewn (onto cushions and such, he's not the Other Mother).  He also gets some minor illusory powers that let him make things look a bit brighter/nicer/cheerier than they are.  It takes quite some time before he’s comfortable with using these powers.  Trauma is a bitch like that.
Part of the reason this version of Tim was so desperate to do something about Batman losing it out of grief is because he already has Evil Batman trauma from Other Batman, and he doesn’t need that shit happening in real Gotham.
By this point Tim has a collection of powers that allow him to navigate the more dangerous parts of Gotham largely without fear.  Now he has to learn how to manage without using any that he isn’t one hundred percent certain he can sneak past Batman, which means he’ll have to divide his attention between learning from the training and not letting himself do things the supernatural way.  This is going to suck.
It does, in fact, suck.
Oh, it turns out some of the rogues are a bit supernatural.  He gains a bit of an intuitive understanding of the health of plants from Ivy.  He gains the ability to taste emotions from Scarecrow.  (Also, Johnathan Crane is a freaking weirdo, fear tastes like spoiled milk!)  The rogues with supernatural tendencies are freaking terrified of the new Robin because he always seems like he wants to freaking eat them.  The non-supernatural types don’t get it.
Eventually, Red hood breaks into Titan’s tower.  Tim, by this point, is very good at deciphering how supernatural entities work and is packing an extensive inventory of powers.  He realizes quickly that this is some kind of manipulative entity that feeds on rage and pain attached to an unwitting host.  When he realizes that the unknowing (and therefore unconsenting) host is Jason Todd, he tells the Lazarus Entity in no uncertain terms to give Jason back or perish.
Jason, who does not realize he has a malicious, mind-warping, supernatural parasite and believes there to be no one other than himself and Tim present, is understandably confused.
Tim decides that the Lazarus entity has had its chance and springs into action.
Jason is treated to the terrifying sight of just what Tim Drake is like when he’s not expending conscious effort on not being something out of a horror movie.  Suddenly he’s in the middle of a spider’s web and no matter how hard he tries to fight back everything around him is under the control of his opponent.  Furniture flies around on puppet strings.  Getting too close puts him in range of the freaking claws this kid apparently has!?  Trying to get away just leaves him caught in strings and the more he struggles the more entangled he becomes!  The new Robin is skittering and gliding around in a decidedly inhuman way. 
Jason honestly thinks he's going to die when he finds himself bound with Tim standing over him.  He passes out when Tim rips the Lazarus entity away from him and destroys it. 
Tim gains the ability to heal from defeating the Lazarus entity.
Jason is surprised and confused when he wakes up bundled in a handmade quilt with his head in Tim’s lap and a cool compress on his forehead, feeling sore but more well and whole than he has since before he died.
Jason later decides that his memories of the fight at Titans Tower must be some kind of weird fever dream caused by his body purging the last of the Lazarus Water from his system. It goes along with Tim's account of things.
According to Tim, Jason entered the tower, initiated a lock-down, and then collapsed on the floor. Then, Tim moved him closer to a wall where he was less likely to get stepped on than in the middle of the walkway and did his best to take care of him there because Jason was simply too large and heavy for him to carry all the way to the med bay by himself.
This is far more believable and less of a mind screw than what Jason remembers. Obviously this tiny, baby-faced kiddo who played nursemaid for a stranger who broke into the tower and now looks up at him with wide, starry eyes couldn't actually be the terrifying, predatory creature from the nightmare. It was all just a bad dream.
He's honestly glad he collapsed before he had time to do any harm. The poor kid will never have to know what Jason went there to do. Jason knows, though, and he'll do his damned best to make up for it. He may have flubbed first impressions, but he is going to be the best damn big brother that ever big brothered.
...
Tim might or might not go full on feral cryptid when Bruce is lost in the Timestream. I haven't decided. He will probably pick a fight with the Lazarus Pit much to the confusion and alarm of everyone around.
That’s all I’ve got so far.
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torasplanet · 5 months
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toxic bf!armin who's friends with all the frat boys on your campus who are known for being dicks but everyone still thinks he's a saint.
toxic bf!armin who gets you to fall for his innocent blonde boy act and then traps you with him after you figure out the REAL him.
toxic bf!armin who loves to record you sucking him off to show eren and reiner later when you two are arguing.
toxic bf!armin who threatens to leak your nudes at any given point so in his words "the next guy you go for will know what else you can do outside of being a smartmouthed bitch."
toxic bf!armin who makes you come and apologize after every argument bc all he does is take care of you and defend you from everyone who calls you a slut and you should be grateful to have him.
toxic bf!armin who tells you he's the best guy you'll ever meet in this campus bc he doesn't cheat or any of that shit and then breaks your heart the next day with his harsh words.
toxic bf!armin who smiles everytime you text him after an argument begging for him to come back and blow your back out.
toxic bf!armin who texts you to hurry up and stop being mad so he can eat you out as an apology.
toxic bf!armin who fucks you like there's no tomorrow no matter where you two are as long as you're willing to get down.
toxic bf!armin who has you wrapped around his pretty little finger and gets you to do whatever he wants. he tells you to jump and you ask how high.
toxic bf!armin who has you perched up on his lap while he smokes a blunt with connie and eren talking about some stupid shit occasionally telling you how good of a girl you are.
toxic bf!armin who argues with you in the middle of a party over small shit and then drags you to the bathroom and bends you over the sink to really make it known to you that he's the only one for you.
toxic bf!armin who gets pissed the fuck off any time you're talking to jean or any guy like that bc "you're too pretty to be talking to someone like that." but he just doesn't like how good jean treats you.
toxic bf!armin that says he's sorry for hurting you but only after you apologize first because he's never in the wrong.
toxic bf!armin that has no problem dismissing your problems with him and letting you walk out that door but finds a problem when you go to another guy.
toxic bf!armin who leaves roses at your door as an apology when you don't come back to him within a week and you really believe him, you really do until the cycle starts up again.
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didderd · 7 months
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erm. erm. th urge to draw this may or may not hav kept me awake 👀
(vry mild suggestive)
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i do not simp many swaps but...
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sithiegoodness · 1 year
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THE COVERS ARE OUT!
Gizmodo got a special sneak peek AND EXCERPT FROM SLEEP NO MORE! You can see the article here!
Seanan's tweet about them said to pay special attention to the reflections. I think Tybalt is in Toby's mirror and Toby's reflection is in the water Tybalt is looking into, but I'd love to hear if anyone spots anything different.
Toby's eyes look green to me. That could be a style choice but it might also indicate that she's under spell.
EDIT: The colors for Seanan's name and the book titles also mirror each other.
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fxirycxr3 · 1 month
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thinking of recovery era leigh and an au where Lawrence gets a crush on Adam who is the young host of a show Diana loves to watch in the mornings,,, Diana winning some sort of chance to be an audience member and Lawrence offers to take her just to try meet Adam and get over his crush but it just makes it worse 🫣🫣
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theallegedbird · 1 year
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they’re just enjoying their midnight snack
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melit0n · 3 months
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I love Jaws with all my heart, so, here I come with a little analysis again!
First off, the title. Bite my neck, drink my blood and make us one type vibes. Sleep Token in general has a massive thing with biting, teeth, consumption and chewing (there's a massive post on Reddit with all the times it's been mentioned, which, if I remember correctly, is around twenty), across their discography, and Jaws is the immediate beginning of this trend.
Jaws are a sign of power, destruction, love, sadness and joy. We bear our teeth when we're happy, when we're angry and when we eat. It is the ultimate metaphor for so many emotions. You don't know someone until you've seen them destroy something, to shout and scream and chew and bite, hence the line "show me those pretty white jaws; show me where the delicate stops". He's asking to see the real them, whoever they are.
All the lyrics have this underlying religious tone, as most Sleep Token songs do, but here it's more directly addressed. "Stained glass" is almost always associated with Churches and Cathedrals, and presents 'them' as something Holy; something that can and will be worshipped. However, the line "Whites of your eyes burn" completely removes all the ideas of safety that surrounds a religious figure. Of course, when it comes to divinity and sin, fire is a massive symbol we have to talk about. To burn is to suffer, but to be cleansed. It's this double entendre that presents this figure of safety as one who is also a threat. A predator.
Then, of course, we have "And I'm not here to be the saviour you long for". Unfortunately, Vessel seems to be in this constant battle of 'I can fix them; we can fix eachother. We're gonna be fine!' and 'I fucking hate you; leave me be or I'll have at you', which is what's seen in this one. Neither of them are the saviour the other one yearns for, yet Vessel still tries. He asks, and then repeats over and over, creating the tone of begging and pleading, for them to show him what they've lost and, in turn, show him love.
He's asking them for the two things they can never genuinely give, but he never stops trying because God forbid the things he'd do if he was alone again.
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