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ickyarson777 · 16 days ago

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Ripped Lace, Cut Glass- VII

The Past, The Future

I have written so many words recently. I'm genuinely conflicted about my first ever finished story being a fic, but not conflicted enough to feel bad so ✌️

Masterlist

Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Word Count: 3,853

Content warnings: very vague suggestive moments, sleep is a meanie (passively), slightly sad vibes, but mostly silly goofy lovey dovey moods

When I open my eyes a couple hours later, I’m face to face with Vessel. His eyes are shut and his breathing slow. A whirlwind of emotion is coursing through me. I’m confused, angry, scared, just as I have been the whole duration of my stay so far. But it’s different now. All of these emotions had previously been projected onto Vessel, but now they were about him. For him?

He’d shown me things as I slept, allowing me to hear the conversations in his mind. His… god? Sleep, the one they claim to worship. I’d heard them speaking with each other. I’d heard Sleep, tormenting him. And Vessel, I could feel his fear, his hesitation to respond with his own suggestions and opinions. He was afraid of this deity, and Sleep had made it very clear that he should be.

I watched his face quietly, though I wasn’t sure he was sleeping. He was still and quiet, turned on his side with his arms crossed over him. He wasn’t wearing that pauldron as he had been each of the previous times I’d seen him, which I’m sure was more comfortable.

I shift slightly in the bed, propping myself up on my elbow. He doesn’t stir when I do this, and I’m more convinced that he might actually be asleep. I study his face, or what little of it I can see that’s not covered by the mask. Where the mask meets his eyes, there is no skin that could be considered an eyelid, instead a plate of whatever material the mask is made of slides from under the eye sockets of the mask and covers his eye.

I wonder if the mask is bone. I remember that bone will stick to your tongue if you lick it, a common way archeologists test to see if instead they’ve picked up a rock. I smile to myself at the idea of licking his mask to test my theory.

I look closer at the lines of red on his mask. This morning, there was blood staining his hands. I don’t believe the red on his mask is blood, as oxidized, dried blood is closer to brown. The sigil over the front is lined in gold, as are the spiked edges framing his jaw.

His mouth is not covered like the others, and I wonder if it unhinges the same way III’s did. His teeth are not all spiked like III’s either, but then again neither were IV’s teeth.

IV being brought up in my mind makes me think of his speaking. I couldn’t hear what he said, couldn’t even truly hear the sound of his voice. II said if he did speak aloud, we wouldn’t hear again. It brings banshees to my mind, but banshees are female, and omens of death, not deafness.

Sirens also have powers related to voices, but, yet again, they were also usually women. Greek mythology paints them to be human headed birds, or human-like bodies with wings of birds. Sirens are also depicted as being like mermaids, but I could see nothing fishy about IV.

On the other hand, III, his whole jaw unhinging the way it did was reminiscent of a snake, devouring its prey. There didn’t seem to be anything reptilian about him other than that.

II has been the most normal of the four men so far, but with the way his mask is shaped, I could only imagine what it might look like if he opened it up.

Vessel is a whole different story at this point. At first, I saw him just as some weird cult leader type in the middle of the woods. Now, trying to take account of all of the information I have, what could he be? He serves a god, fallen from… something. Can't return to his home, sacrifices in the woods on an altar covered in blood. But it's a sacred place. He’s not a demon, I know this for sure. His voice is beautiful. If any of them were a siren, it would be him. But again, no feathers.

And nothing that I can think of explains the masks, the telepathy, the god. It's a common rule not to give your name to something inhuman like they are, so I’m not particularly surprised by that. More so surprised by the fact that I’m actually having to use that rule now.

Even without my name, there have still been times where I felt compelled to listen, to do what they say. Not enough to actually listen, clearly. But still enough to sway some decisions.

I dismiss the thoughts, deciding that without more information, I’m not likely to figure everything out quite yet and that’s ok.

Now, my mind drifts to the conversations I’d heard once again. His god tells him that I don’t like him or any of the other men in the house. Which isn’t inherently false, I’m not particularly keen on random men who’ve asked me to stay in their forest manor with all of their weird deadly creatures surrounding me.

But I don’t hate them, I feel more indifferent than anything. I have bigger things on my mind than if they’re more friends than acquaintances, or even captors. Are they captors? I don’t think so. The way they’ve behaved so far, never really putting their hands on me unless it's absolutely necessary. Vessel only grabbed me when we first met to guard me from the creature that was chasing me. III never touched me and even made a point to mention that he couldn’t on our way to the manor. IV put his hands over my ears earlier to protect me, and II hasn’t touched me at all.

Vessel has made it clear to me, it is my choice to be here. He’s not forcing me to stay, and even in the house and the surrounding area, I’m free to do as I please. I consider trying to leave for a moment. And they have been very kind to me, never speaking to me with anger, all of them gentle and considerate, even if their standards for privacy aren’t up to par with humans.

Vessel’s god doesn’t seem to care about me, which I think I’m more glad about than scared. But it does make me worry, as this means I’m disposable to them.

I think of the conversation being reflected onto me, how Sleep had changed my dreams to show Vessel my worst moments. The fact that they had invaded my mind and shown someone else my misery makes me uncomfortable as I’m sure it would to anyone. I had buried those things for a reason, yet here they were again, buzzing around in my head like a fly that wouldn’t be swatted away.

Vessel had expressed that he didn’t want to see any of those moments from my mind, and Sleep had completely devalued those experiences.

When Sleep finally left him, Vessel changed my dreams again, standing in the field with me. I couldn’t speak to him, could only listen to his own thoughts, something I don’t think he had realized.

He wanted to know more about me, wanted to study me. He wanted to reach out and touch me? Which, the way he phrased it was weird, but I could feel that the intention behind it was pure. Then again, there was a short moment that he wondered about some of the memories he’d seen in my mind. I knew when those moments came up, he’d looked away, I could feel his presence fade out of my mind every time. Yet, knowing that he thought of me in that regard, the visions that he drew in his mind. I didn’t even know what to think about it. But I don’t think I was opposed to the idea…

Even then he was disappointed and ashamed in himself for thinking of me like that.

I continued processing everything silently, tracing over the details of his mask with my eyes. He had wondered if I’d be mad that he was still here, and here I was, wondering how he’d react if I had licked his mask to see if it was bone. I smile as the thought is brought up in my mind again, silently laughing to myself.

Instead of licking him as I’d like to, I reach out and run my finger over the edge of the mask, down to the spiked end. It’s smooth, cool to the touch.

One of his eyes flicks open suddenly, and I draw my hand back quickly, gasping in surprise.

His other five eyes open simultaneously. “The mask is bone, albeit not my own.”

“Oh! Uh, I’m sorry,” I say, unsure of what else I could say. “I didn’t lick you.”

“I know,” he says with a quiet laugh. “But if you’d like to, I don’t mind satisfying your wishes.”

There’s a glint in his eyes that I had never noticed before. I couldn’t tell if it had always been there or if I was just realizing it now. Whatever I was feeling at that moment must’ve been evident on my face as a small smirk grew over Vessel’s lips.

Was this tension I was feeling? Was I turned on? Aggravated? At this point I had no idea.

My stomach began growling then, and I realized that I hadn’t had anything to eat since the night before and I was starving.

“Looks like it's time for someone to get something to eat,” Vessel said, rising from the bed and offering me a hand.

I brushed his hand away. “I’ve got it, but thank you.”

“Of course.”

I follow him out of the room and down the stairs. I notice then that the house is empty, the presence of the other three men missing from every area, even my mind.

“Where are they?” I asked Vessel as we stepped into the kitchen.

“Running errands,” he said simply. “You’re free to have anything in here to eat if you’d like, the pantry is over there,” he tells me pointing to two doors on one wall.

I nod, walking over and opening the door. My eyes widen as I realize its a walk in pantry, filled to the brim with cans, jars containers with pretty much anything I could think of in them.

Suddenly a question is brought to my mind. “Do you eat?”

Vessel is leaning against the counter. He nods, “I do, yes. Eating mortal food is not my only way of being fed through, and not nearly the most efficient way. Because of that, I and the others often end up consuming a lot more food than a human would.”

“How else could you feed?” I ask, confused.

He looks away, tilts his head and takes a deep breath, seemingly pondering how to answer the question. “It’s very hard to explain, but there are more intangible ways for us to be filled than physical ones.”

“So… you don’t eat people.”

He didn’t answer my question, just looked at me with that odd glint in his eyes again and said, “What do you think?”

My heart fluttered at this and I felt my cheeks flush.

“Ah, uh,” I stutter and turn my back to him again, searching through the food. I grab a couple things and start rooting through the fridge to find something to completely meal, whipping everything together quickly.

“Would you like some?” I ask Vessel.

He shakes his head gently, but turns to grab a coffee mug from one of the cabinets and fills it to the brim with coffee from the machine that’s still half full from this morning. I would’ve assumed the coffee to be cold by now, but seeing the steam curling off the top of it, it seems my assumptions are incorrect.

I take my plate and set it at the table across the room, a small, circular one set in front of a window. There’s only two chairs here, meant for smaller meals than the larger dining table in the room beside us.

Vessel follows after me, taking a seat. As I begin eating, I glance out the window which happens to be situated on the back wall of the house and I realize now, I hadn’t seen this side of the house. There’s a door that leads to the outside here, and it seems to open into a large courtyard of flowers, surrounded by a cobblestone wall that's grown with vines. The walls are tall, and they stretch back far, though there are trees blocking my vision so I cannot see where they end.

“Is this the garden?” I ask him.

“The front of it, yes.” Vessel glances out the window, surveying the area. “Going grocery shopping in the town has proved to be difficult in our current forms, so we opt to grow and make as much as we can here. The garden is very very large, there are sections with rows and rows of vegetables and small orchards of fruit trees. I believe II might be out tending the garden right now.”

“What about meat?” I ask, noting that there were a couple different kinds in the fridge. “Do you have a farm as well?” I say it mostly as a joke.

Vessel gave me a small smile, “No, not a farm, though III has been suggesting that he’d like some chickens to care for,” he says, tapping his chin in thought. “I think that’s a nice idea. It would give him someone else to talk to, stop bugging the rest of us when he has too much coffee.”

I smile at the idea of III, hyped up on coffee and too much sugar. I envision his lanky figure lying upside down on the couch while II crochets or IV reads, talking nonstop.

It seems as though Vessel sees the thought as well, laughing and nodding. “You wouldn’t believe the amount of times I’ve walked into the house to see that exact situation playing out. Though II doesn’t crochet, he’s actually more partial to drumming, he’s a phenomenal drummer.”

Now that he says it, I realize the amount of times I’d seen II tapping his fingers on furniture. I’d always passed it off as nervous fidgeting.

“Do you play any instruments?”

He nods, “Piano and guitar mostly, though I leave the latter to IV generally.”

“Do you sing?” I know the answer to the question even though I’ve never heard for myself.

“You seem to have solved that one for yourself,” he says and then takes another sip of his drink.

“So you, II and IV play instruments. At this point, I have to assume III does as well. What is it, a saxophone?” I say jokingly. “No wait, didgeridoo.”

Vessel laughs again, as the image of him playing a didgeridoo comes to my mind, “No, but I’d love to see it,” he says through his laughter. “He plays the bass.”

I squint at him. “So you’re a band.”

“Not a band,” he says, shaking his head with a smile. “But II helps me write music sometimes, and the other two help me put it all together once I’ve finished writing. No concerts though, no recording. It’s more part of our worship than anything. A ritual.”

He says it very cryptically.

“I’d love to hear your music sometime,” I say.

He turns his head away at this slightly and his smile falls away.

“Vessel?”

“I’m not sure…” he trails off. “The music, its… It’s very heavy.”

“Just think about it then,” I tell him, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. “No need to worry about it, just show me when you want to.”

He nods, falling silent now.

I glance out the window at the garden, my eyes falling on a specific tree in the center of the courtyard. It’s in full bloom, covered in beautiful pink flowers.

“Oleander,” Vessel says. “It’s a poisonous tree, though not often fatal to humans.”

“It’s pretty,” I tell him.

“It is.”

“Vessel,” I say quietly. “Do you think I’ll ever be able to go home?”

He doesn’t respond for a moment, still looking out the window at the tree.

“You aren’t trapped here,” he says.

“But I can’t leave.”

He sighs lightly. “Beloved, I do not know how to answer this question. You are not trapped here, and you can leave if you’d like. I wouldn’t want you too, but I cannot stop you, nor can I protect you if you decided to make that decision. In theory, if everything went the right way, you could leave if you so wished. But the woods are full of monsters that are controlled by Sleep. And if I tried to stop them or to help you, I believe Sleep would influence me, take control and force me either to not interfere at all, or to work with them. And they’d likely bring you back here. Or simply, kill you.” The last words were muttered as if he couldn’t stand the idea.

“Because I can’t stand it,” he tells me. “You think I sound like I can’t stand it, but how could I? I’m giving so much to keep you alive here. I wish that fact was as evident to you as it feels for me.”

“It’s not going unnoticed,” I say gently. “I just… I don’t know, I guess I just don’t understand. I met you yesterday, yet you act like you’ve been in love with me for years. And for some reason, I think I feel the same?” My face is flushed and I don’t make eye contact, and neither does he, his eyes still searching the garden. “Do I feel the same?”

“That’s not my decision to make,” he says.

I let out a huff of air. “You’re the mind reader here, can’t you tell me what I feel?”

He lets out a laugh, though it's laced with bitterness. “To ask something like that-”

“It’s not unreasonable for me to ask such a thing,” I say, cutting him off.

He pauses for a moment, the air still tense around us, but I can tell he's thinking rather than staying silent out of spite.

“Alright, maybe in your mind it isn’t unreasonable,” he says. “But, I am a being who can manipulate your emotions with just a thought. I could bend your will to my own and force your mind to make decisions with my hand at play.”

I listen to him speak, though I don’t know if my silence is chosen.

“To ask me to tell you if you feel that way about me,” he says, still not looking at me. “You’re playing right into my hands, giving me exactly what I want. Darling if i had your name you’d be in a hold so tight you’d never be able to escape it. I’d tell you ‘yes, of course you do,’ and for the rest of your life I’d manipulate you into believing it. You’d give me exactly what I want and god I want it so badly.”

A long stretch of silence falls between us as I take a lot of time to really process his words.

“How am I supposed to know that you haven’t been doing that to me already?” I finally asked him.

“It doesn’t go unnoticed. I’m sure there’ve been times where you felt like you were making decisions that were opposite of your feelings, or completely out of character for yourself,” he told me.

I nod my head, agreeing that yes, there had been times where this happened.

“Nothing I can do can convince you that I haven’t done this to you,” he says, almost miserably. “All I can do is hope that you’ll believe me and hope that you don’t see me as a deceitful liar.”

“Who has done that to me then?”

“Sleep, the creatures in the forest. I believe III did in order to make sure you arrived here when you decided you wouldn’t listen to him,” he says. “But I swear to you with every fiber of my being that I haven’t done it myself. But I will not lie to you either, and tell you there weren’t times that I was tempted.”

“And how would I know that you aren’t doing it now?”

“Do you think that I am?” It’s like he can barely muster to look at me.

I shake my head slowly. “No, I don’t.”

“Why?”

“I don’t think you’d admit something so incriminating if you were. Without my name, there’s no definite that says that it would work completely, right? And I don’t plan on giving you my name anytime soon. Even if it was something that I couldn’t break, why tell me if you didn’t genuinely mean to convince me otherwise. If I had been manipulating your emotions, I wouldn’t tell you I was. I would do everything I could to convince you that it wasn’t even a possibility.”

Vessel considers my words and nods.

“I do genuinely care about you,” he says.

“And I do believe that.”

He looks me directly in the eyes now, “The care I feel for you is different, stronger than I’ve ever cared for anyone before. I want to be around you constantly, to protect you, to see you grow and change and excel in life.”

“Is this a confession?”

“Of something I believe we’ve both already known?” he says. “I don’t know.”

I try to think of a way to respond, but Vessel beats me to it.

“I am content where we are right now. I believe that you understand more about my situation,” he says. “And in return, I know more about your history. Whatever we do from here, the decision is yours.”

I stare out the window at the oleander tree, thinking about his words. At this point there are so many possibilities, so many ways for things to go. Vessel and I, to each other, were practically strangers. Alien even, in a literal sense. Two different species entirely. Two different species who were probably never meant to interact with each other… Yet, isn’t that exactly why I came to this town in the first place? The whole reason I even stepped into these woods? Maybe not to fall in love with a monster, but definitely looking for one.

And even then, could it really be so horrible to have fallen in love with him?

“You are conflicted about it,” he says.

“It’s been a day,” I say quietly.

“Then we can give it time. I do not want you to make a decision that you're going to regret, beloved.”

I consider the proposal, and nod my head.

Silence falls upon us once again.

Suddenly I hear the front door being slammed open in the hallway nearby, a crash, III screaming in panic, a loud thud and then, simply silence.

I meet Vessel's eyes to see that all six of his are as equally wide as mine, and he stands, taking quick steps towards the doorway and peering through.

He takes a sharp breath and quietly mutters “Dear god.”

I tried to write something a little lighter this time after that last chapter, so I hope this helps to heal the ouch a little bit.

As always, feedback and criticism are appreciated, tell me what you think! Also, ask me to add you to the taglist!! 🌀Ouuh you wanna be on the taglist so bad Ouuuuuhhhhh🌀

Also you can find this story on Ao3 right Here

Ok that all, have fun take care byeeeee !!!

#sleep token #vessel #iii #ii #iv #sleep token vessel #vessel x reader #vessel sleep token

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ickyarson777 · 18 days ago

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Ripped Lace, Cut Glass- VI

With Pain as Your Language

Just.. buckle up y'all 😖

I do want to say though, this chapter does have some heavier topics, so please read the content warnings. Some personal stuff started happening for me yesterday and I decided to try and get all that negativity out by using it for angst material, aka I'm projecting :)

I am ok though, a lot of the stuff mentioned are past issues that I've recovered from.

Masterlist

Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Word count: 2,338

Content warnings: mind reading and dream viewing, dream manipulation, guilt tripping, self harm (very brief), starvation (also brief), vague emotional abuse and manipulation, it/its pronouns used a few times. slightly objectifying behavior from a certain someone, slightly suggestive but very tame.

Vessel watched the sleeping form on the bed passively. He stayed in the room with them mostly because he knew once he left, his responsibilities would rush back into his hands. Even now, his own thoughts were skewed with the thoughts of his friends pinging around in every corner. He didn’t have much on his mind, just the image before him and the allure of the unknown.

If he could block the others from hearing his thoughts, he might wonder more about them. Where they came from, why they came here. He tries not to invade their thoughts, something he’s insisted on to them, though he knows they think him to be a liar. And maybe, in some ways, he is. Not every thought can be pushed out or ignored, especially not the ones that could be screams of frustration if not trapped in the confines of their mind.

Every few moments that they lie there, he sees glimpses of their dreams.

Dreams. So easily twisted and warped into nightmares. Sleep has made this very clear to him. Vessel does not dream, he doesn’t even really sleep, not the way humans do. But the visions his god has shown him are beautiful. Sleep shows him life before the fall. Shows him glimpses of the eternal beauty and light that was stripped away from him, snapped into pieces like a dry rotted plank of wood. Bare and brittle, splintered and useless.

It is the price you paid. The words echo in his mind and he wishes so desperately that they would go away.

If Sleep were not watching his every move, listening to every thought and desire, Vessel might be more able to live normally, or at least, his own concept of normal.

He was locked in these woods, stagnant in motion, not allowed to ascend or descend in any direction.

But yet, they’re here.

When he came across them the first time, he was so determined to get them out of here alive, thankful that his god had allowed him an opportunity to save a life.

He should’ve known there would be no escape for the mortal. Should’ve known, a quick and easy death would’ve been easier to accept. And while the path of their life now was better than what would’ve become of them, he knew that death would’ve saved them from the suffering that will come to them no matter where their road takes them.

And you still feel love? Even now?

Vessel sighs gently.

“All life is worthy of love,” he mutters quietly, careful not to wake the sleeping human. “I do not think you will be able to strip me of that belief.”

The human doesn’t like you. It doesn’t like any of you. The cruel words sting Vessel, but he cannot object, as his god's words ring true.

“But I do not believe it dislikes us, either.”

Foolish. Every time a mortal steps into these woods, you sacrifice your salvation to do nothing but have them suffer eternally.

“I try to help them.”

Humans are vile, disgusting things. They don’t understand the worth of the things of this realm.

“They try to. You’ve seen their places of worship,” he mutters, envisioning cathedrals, mosques and synagogues. “They understand devotion.”

Sleep’s cold laugh shakes his mind, leaving him dizzy enough to lean his head back against the headboard.

A human's devotion to a god is like a cattle to a farmhand. They mindlessly follow to be fed, and die off to feed the greater mind. No further purpose.

Though Vessel disagreed, he stayed silent.

You stay quiet because the alternative is provocation. Such a good vessel… You behave so well.

Vessel watches the figure on the bed, their breathing slow and steady. He sees glimpses of their dreams again, a sky full of stars, a meadow of flowers. The human speaks to an unseen figure, they laugh and Vessel can sense the joy of this moment.

Do you really think you could give it what it needs? Something to receive a reaction like that? Has it even smiled at you once?

“I am trying,” he whispers.

All you ever do is try and it never benefits you. You don’t think maybe that’s why you’re in the place you are now? Why you continue to second-guess your existence because anytime you manage to actually save a life they just become-

“I already understand the place that I’m in, I’d rather not hear it reiterated again,” he says, cutting the voice off.

For a moment, they’re silent and Vessel begins to fear retaliation.

Careful little vessel. You’ve gone so long without bringing a sacrifice that will feed me to satisfaction. Behave yourself or your little toy will become my next meal.

Vessel’s eyes widen and he decides it’s best now to keep his mouth shut. He’s tested his god to the brink of their anger, and he knows what tipping them over the edge would mean for him.

Sweet, sweet vessel, The voice in his mind dripped with false sincerity. You know nothing I do is to hurt you.

Vessel didn’t know if this was the truth. But he did know that he belonged to his god because he had fallen. Because his god could help him reach his old home once again.

My vessel. Everything you think and feel, I already know. That human means something to you, something more than you’ve felt of any other human before.

Vessel’s many eyes traced the shape of the mortal under the blanket, its eyes shut in peaceful slumber, resting from their injury and the stresses of the morning before. He knew that humans experience something called adrenaline, and the high it provides causes a heavy crash when it’s worn off. He believes this is why the human was able to fall back asleep so soon after waking the first time.

Ignoring me now?

“No,” Vessel muttered. “Many rampant thoughts.”

Sleep was silent, understanding the vessel’s meaning but not giving him the satisfaction of agreement.

“Will I ever be able to speak to the human openly?” He asks in a moment of vulnerability.

This one is smart, Sleep says. Its mortal mind is exhausted right now. It gave you a month to convince it to stay. If you can manage to keep it alive within that time, it should be able to discover the truth on its own. If it does, I will allow you to speak with it. He felt that Sleep was telling the truth, yet he could sense the deceit in his god's voice. Vessel tries to ignore it.

Silence fell after that, and Vessel viewed the dreams of the human almost hungrily now.

He watched a whole life begin and play out in front of him, the milestones and memories, the pain and sadness, loss and envy.

He felt sad at the accelerated growth of a human’s life. There’s so little time for them on this earth, and very few get to experience more than just their homes in the duration of it all. But he also felt happy to see that this human did experience earth. They did not stay in one place long, always opting to adventure somewhere new anytime the opportunity arose. They’d seemed to have traveled alone for the most part, but flashes of different cities told him that no matter where this human went, they were never alone long, often making friends. They’d form a small group to venture around the cities, gather around tables and laugh and talk, dance in small venues to artists unheard of. He saw glimpses of them returning to a hotel or home with one of these many friends every now and then, the start of a short lived intimate encounter. For these, he stopped viewing out of respect but would tap back into their thoughts once he felt the air shift to a new energy, bringing a new story to be told.

Vessel couldn’t tell what was and wasn’t real about this dreamscape, but the human felt joy from viewing it, so true or not, he was happy that they were able to see visions of happiness.

Do you think this human’s life has only been good?

Vessel jolted, being forced out of his own thoughts by the voice of the god he’d almost forgotten for that moment.

“They have been sad before.”

Sad yes, but do you think it has ever felt agony like you?

“I hope not,” Vessel says. The thought of this human experiencing pain like he has causes him great sadness. He has no heart, but whatever it is in his chest that clenches so painfully at the idea of such a thing makes his shoulders curve forward, bracing himself against the ache that festers within him.

Shall we see?

Vessel cannot object. He wants to so badly, but he cannot object because if he does, his god will hurt him even more.

Sleep’s will seeps into the mind of the mortal, drawing forth the worst of the human's memories, some tucked so far away that not even they remembered their existence.

Vessel tried his best to look away, but Sleep forced the images into his mind. Vessel saw all the anger, felt the torment the human had felt. For years, they didn’t understand themself, and couldn't figure out why the world was changing so drastically. Vessel saw flashes of dark images, a view of razors, stained and scented with iron rich crimson. He felt the twisting growl of an empty stomach but the overwhelming stare of the mirror across the room.

“Please, my god, do not show me anymore,” Vessel could barely muster a whisper.

Sleep accepted his plea.

So the human has not felt pain like you.

Vessel’s anger is stronger now. “Of course not, but that doesn’t undermine their experiences. No human has experienced what I have, but their pain is still true. They don’t have the ability to comprehend pain like mine, but what they can feel of theirs must be agonizing.”

You are too kind to them. Sleep speaks dismissively. Wasteful of your own energy. They don’t matter.

Their tone makes it clear, they want no response. This isn’t opinion in their mind, this is fact.

Vessel doesn’t object, though he’s sure Sleep knows that he heavily disagrees.

Rest then, little vessel. When the human wakes, you know where I will expect you to be.

He feels Sleep's hold on his mind recede, their attention leaves and moves on to something more interesting, more important to them than he is.

And Vessel is grateful. He’s glad to have some form of freedom from their control for this amount of time.

Vessel wills the energy in the room to change, to invade the sleeping humans mind and return their dreams to peaceful ones.

The image of the field returns to his mind, this time bathed in warm daylight. The human walks though the grass, their hands grazing flowers.

He watches from a distance, not wanting to interrupt their peace, unsure if he’s even able to.

Vessel has always been curious of humans, doing everything he could to understand their existence, their cultures, customs. He’s observed them from a distance for millenia, and anytime he’s had an opportunity to observe them at a closer range, he’s avoided it because he understands what the outcome would be for the humans he makes contact with.

And now, here one is, dancing through a field of flowers, sleeping peacefully next to him in the bed. He’s enamored, excited. He wishes more than anything that he could reach out and touch them, to observe and study them.

But this human doesn’t seem to like him, just as Sleep had said. They allowed him to touch them earlier, they even let him hold them while they cried, and let him carry them to the bed. Would they be mad if they woke to find him still here? Had they asked him to stay simply to speak with him more, or for him to stay with them regardless of what happens, asleep or awake?

Vessel's mind began to drift for a moment to those intimate memories he’d seen the beginnings of and wondered if the human would ever see him in that regard… No. Vessel scolded himself for the thought, he was ashamed that he’d ever consider something like that of them, especially when they’d make it quite clear that there was a significant amount of distance to stay between the two of them, at least for the time being.

Even if that distance was shorter, closed even, what could be done. This was a human, and he was… well…

He shook his head, hoping the thoughts in his mind would shake away with it. For now, he watched the human dance and smile, he viewed the flowers and let the humans energy fill him instead, feeling their joy. He could speak with them about it all later.

After all, Sleep could hear every thought of his, feel every feeling. But Sleep did not know that every part of the conversation they’d had was also broadcasted to the human as well. The subtle shifts in the atmosphere that Vessel had used to change the energy under the thin veil of dreams.

And maybe, with everything Vessel and Sleep had spoken of, the human could understand more about this world. They could understand why he had to remain so silent, guard information. They could feel the way he felt for them.

And maybe when they woke, Vessel would prove to be right. But for now, he shifted carefully so as not to wake them, and laid himself down in the bed, leaving an appropriate amount of space in between them. He shut his eyes and watched their dream unfold, watched them turn to face him, their eyes meeting his. A sad, knowing smile crossed their face and they turned away again.

For this moment, Vessel felt peace, and for this he was grateful.

Whew 😅

This was a rough one for me, I will be honest, but I enjoyed writing it thoroughly.

As always, feedback and criticism are appreciated, and let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

Tags: @dravenskye, @xladyxfatex, @silveroak-art, @wormm-mom, @interstellarghostparty2

#sleep token #vessel #ii #iii #iv #sleep token vessel #vessel x reader

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ickyarson777 · 20 days ago

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honestly, because there is no solid canon for anything, this is exactly how you're meant to view the music. that's the beautiful thing about this, you decide what you want the music to be. pretty much everything is subjective (with some exceptions). keep up the good work anon !! im so proud of you !!

I confess that I am the kind of fan who,

doesn't know the lore,

listens to the songs and treat them as standalone songs,

Can't make sense of the cryptic lyrics but if a few lines slap me hard I claim to relate to the song and wash my face to it and cry in the bathroom sink

The aesthetic's cool, costumes cool, the sound of the band gave me a whole new standard that I find it so hard to listen to other musicians anymore, but I sort of... Don't know the lore and I have gone to the point of personalizing each song so hard that I don't want to hear the lore because I took the song and you know sort of hugged it in my arms and adopted it and started projecting my personal issues on it

Shall I be shamed for this? 🥺

#sleep token #worshitposting

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ickyarson777 · 20 days ago

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Ripped Lace, Cut Glass- V

Gold Rush, Acid Flux

And so it continues

Masterlist

Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Word count: 3,005

Content warnings: fear and dread, blood mentioned, demons and religious imagery, burning, and subsequent injury, creature

Demon

The word drifted through my mind over and over after I had awoken. Stayed there as I stepped into the bathroom to pee and brush my teeth. Followed me around as I left the room and stepped down onto the first stair where I paused, making eye contact with IV who stood at the bottom of the stairs.

Stuck on that word, huh? His voice rang through my mind.

“Get out of my head,” I said quietly.

Not that easy.

“Vessel seems to have no issue with it,” I responded, sharply.

We’ve prepared breakfast, would you like to come eat? He asks, ignoring my statement.

I sigh and nod, stepping down the rest of the stairs as he turns and walks out of sight.

I stepped behind him into the kitchen, already occupied by II and III. I could smell coffee and the sweet scent of syrup.

“Good morning,” II said, turning and noticing me.

“Where’s Vessel?” I asked, noting his absence.

Three pairs of eyes glanced around at each other, but wouldn’t meet mine.

“He’s… busy,” said II.

I ignored his evasive answer, deciding that whatever it was, it was obviously something they either couldn’t, or wouldn’t tell me about. No reason to waste my time trying to get an answer out of them. III had a mug of coffee in one hand and a muffin in the other. He stared at me, amusement dancing in his eyes.

I stared back, though much more aggravated than he was.

With one swift motion, the threads holding the mouth of his mask together undid themselves and opened up, unhinging along the line of his cheekbones where gold gave way to black revealing a row of sharp teeth. He tossed the muffin in and snapped his mouth shut, the threads sliding back into place.

My aggravated stare quickly turned to a horrified one.

III began cackling, kicking his legs like a toddler, which with how gangly he was, had to be a safety hazard in a closed space like this.

My eyes darted to the other two. IV nodded, eyes shut answering my question before I had the chance to ask it.

We can do that too.

“What the fuck? Why? Why not just take off the masks?” I asked.

Suddenly it dawned on me. Why III’s mouth unhinged like that, why I’d never seen any of them without the masks, why Vessel’s six eyes were seemingly connected to the sockets of the mask.

“They don’t… they don’t come off,” I mutter.

An uncomfortable silence passed through the room.

I open my mouth to speak again, but then the unmistakable heavy creaking of the front door echoes from down the hall. I turn to face the noise, glancing through the doorway into the hall. Vessel steps inside, closing the door behind him. His paint is almost entirely gone now, still lingering in certain places, but streaked and smeared. He steps forward down the hall, and it's obvious that he’s exhausted.

“Not stepping in here, not like that,” II says.

Vessel smiles slightly, “I’m hungry.”

I look over his form, clearly sweaty and dirty, but I also notice blood dried on his fingertips, no telling if it's his own or otherwise.

“Shower and then eat,” II tells him.

With that, Vessel nods and turns, back down the hall and up the stairs. Seconds later, he peeks back around the corner, eyes on me.

“Good morning, darling,” he says gently. “Hope you slept well.” And with that, continues his route, heavy footsteps receding upwards.

“Darling this, beloved that,” III says mockingly. “Bloke’s fallen again.”

I roll my eyes.

“What, you don’t fancy him and his washboard abs?”

I do my best to ignore him. “II, may I have a cup of coffee?”

“Oh, so you do fancy him,” III says with a snicker.

“Can you shut up?” I ask him. “I don’t fancy anyone, especially not anyone out of four creepy men in the forest. Not ones with blood dried on their hands, and not ones whose jaws unhinge like… like,” I gesture at his face. “Like that.”

III wasn’t deterred by this at all it seems, because he just threw his head back, laughing harder than before.

“Here you are, friend,” II says, handing me a steaming cup of coffee. “Would you like any cream or sugar?”

Before I can respond however, a loud crash and a thud ring out from the floor above us. Silence ensues. The other three men in the room are still, eyes wide, as if waiting for a response. And then, laughter erupts from II and III, and even IV is shaking slightly, though still silent as ever.

I sit quietly, now confused and slightly overwhelmed by everything going on.

At this point, I don’t even care to know what happened. I grab my mug from the counter, deciding to drink it black and step out of the room onto the porch of the house. There's a table and two chairs sitting outside, I take a seat and watch the heat of my breath curl into the cold morning air.

I can hear II and III talking inside the house, loud and energetic. The door opens and closes, but I don’t glance to see who approaches and takes the seat across the table.

Do you believe that Vessel is a demon?

I shake my head, then I shrug. “Is he?” I ask him.

By now, I’m sure you know there are certain things we can’t talk about.

I nod, already assuming this would be the only answer I got on the subject.

As a human, there are a lot of things you don’t understand about yours and our current situation, I’m sure Vessel’s already told you the same. Unfortunately, it's much the same for us. Our interactions with humans are usually very short lived. Unless a human steps far enough into the woods, which is quite rare, we don’t see them. And when we do, they often… He pauses for a moment and I see his eyes narrow beneath the edges of his mask.

I glance in the direction that he’s looking to see a figure moving in the trees. Whatever it was, it was tall, maybe ten feet or more. It had four arms, a set underneath the regular ones a human would have, and it was cloaked entirely in dark robes that seemed to shift with the shadow, blending in with the darkness around it. There were multiple gold chains around its neck, and one thick golden collar at the base of its hood which enveloped its head, keeping the things face in complete darkness. Two golden bands on each arm and a belt of the same precious metal around its waist. All of its jewelry is encrusted with jewels, shining in the light. Two pointed tines with hanging charms sat above its shoulders.

IV and I watched the creature amble slowly towards us. I noticed that it seemed to be humming to itself, faint and gentle, but melodic.

“Can it… does it see us?” I ask IV.

He nodded his head.

I watched as it reached the treeline stopping just before stepping foot in the clearing around the house. The quiet humming stops and it reaches a hand out towards us, and its chains and charms shift and clink against each other, making soft twinkling sounds.

I watch the thing as it stands there, trying to see past the shadows shielding its face.

I stand, feeling the need to get closer, to observe it. I take a few steps forward, and down the stairs of the porch, now standing a good fifteen feet away from it.

I wouldn’t get much closer.

I ignore him, standing just a couple feet away from the tips of the fingers that are stretched towards me. It reaches out its other three arms, straining, but not moving past the edge of the shadows.

It begins humming again, swaying still to its song, the twinkling of its charms beginning to sound like bells.

Look, I really suggest you back up a bit, IV is standing a few feet behind me now, observing cautiously.

Slowly I reach forward and brush my fingertips around the creature's own. Its hums become louder, almost giddy.

In one swift motion, it takes hold of my arm and yanks me forward, its own arm meeting the sunlight as it does so. In the blink of an eye, my skin and the skin of the creature in front of me is searing, burning. It lets go of me and lets out an ungodly screech, though not the same one I’d heard the night before. I scream myself, yanking my arm back to see the patch of skin already raw and blistering from the contact.

The creature stumbles back, flailing its arms wildly and IV grabs me by the shoulders, pulling me towards him and covering my ears with his hands.

I glance upwards at him, seeing the threads of his own mask unravelling.

I begin to panic, remembering II’s words after I’d met them all.

‘If he speaks out loud, none of us would ever hear again.’

“IV,” I whispered just as his mouth opened and he began to speak.

His words were muffled and quiet, but I could tell they were in that odd language again. The thing in front of us flailed harder, falling backwards and crawling away as if the man’s words were knives.

Slowly, IV guided us both backwards, stepping away from the creature, but not turning his back to it and not letting his hands move. The creature still stumbled over itself, but was now back on its feet, grabbing trees to steady itself in its retreat. I felt IV take a step onto the porch and I stumble, his hands falling away from my ears and my knees hit the ground. I glance upwards at him in shock and see the threads replacing themselves. My arm is stinging and my ears are ringing slightly, but I can still hear the wind rushing through the leaves of the trees and the birdsong, so I assume my hearing is fine. The door of the manor crashes open seconds later, and Vessel, II and III spill out, the latter two wide-eyed.

Vessel immediately moves to help me up, looking over my arm in the process.

I have to assume IV is filling them in on the events that’ve just passed because they’re all silent, looking in between each other.

“For fuck’s sake, you can’t speak out loud for just this once?” I spit at them. “And you,” I say pointing at IV. “What's up with the talking thing, huh? You can’t put words in that thing's head? I thought I was supposed to go deaf, what happened to that?”

His eyes narrow at me, but he puts no thoughts into my mind.

“All of you and your weird ass fucking lives are creeping me out,” I say crossing my arms and then gasping in pain having momentarily forgotten about the burn. Remembering it however, my anger is only multiplied.

I realize at this moment, I’m not going to be able to have a decent conversation with any of them and shove past them into the house, flinging the door open and storming up the stairs. I make my thoughts very clear. If any of them want to talk to me, they’ll have to try really fucking hard to get me to listen.

I slam the door to my room shut and lock it behind me, making my way to the bathroom where I begin rummaging through cabinets. I find a first aid kit and pull out some antibiotic ointment and run my arm under cool water. After letting it sit in the water for a moment, I let it air dry before carefully applying the ointment. There’s gauze and a roll of bandage I could wrap it in, but I knew I’d struggle too much trying to get it on and only further frustrate myself.

I could help, if you’d like, Vessel’s gentle words floated in my mind.

I scoff, “So much for staying out of my head, right?” I say quietly.

They said it would require a lot to receive your attention. If angering you is the only way to do that, it must be done.

“What do you want,” I mutter, walking back into the empty room.

To talk, if you’d like. Or just to wrap the bandage for you.

I feel my eye twitch in frustration and sigh, walking over to the door and flicking the lock open, and walking away quickly to take a seat on the bed. I cross my arms again, this time careful not to touch my wound and shut my eyes, doing my best to ignore Vessel as he steps into the room, closing the door behind himself gently and takes a seat beside me on the bed, though he does leave a sizable distance.

I refuse to speak first, and refuse to open my eyes, though I can feel his six eyed stare, piercing and unblinking.

After a long moment of silence, he stands and I open my eyes for just a moment to see him slip into the bathroom, presumably to grab the bandages. I snap my eyes shut again as I hear him returning and feel his warmth as he grows nearer to me and kneels in front of me.

“May I see your arm, please?” Barely above a whisper.

Reluctantly I extend my arm to him.

“Thank you darling.”

He begins to wrap the wound, slowly and carefully, asking every few moments if it's too tight or too loose. Finally, he stands up, sets the rest of the roll of bandage on the small table beside the chair and moves to sit beside me on the bed again.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asks gently.

I shake my head.

“Is there anything else I can do to help right now?”

His words are so genuinely kind and wanting to help, I can’t help but begin to feel overwhelmed. It feels like everything since I’ve been here has just been problem after problem and it hasn’t even been a full twenty-four hours since I stepped into those woods the first time.

The tears begin falling, yet again.

“I just don’t get it,” I whisper, not trusting myself to speak louder. “I have no idea what’s going on.”

I feel him watching me and for a split second, I wish he would just reach out. A hug would be so nice right now, and the thought of one sends me into another wave of tears.

“Would you like that?” He asks carefully, a spark of hope in his voice.

I scoff, still trying to hold up my aggravated appearance, but it crumbles quickly, being replaced with a nod.

Slowly he reaches forward to me, letting me lean into his touch. I bury my face into his shoulder and he wraps his arms around me.

“I wish… oh how I wish I could make things clearer for you,” he whispers beside my ear. “I feel the ache in your heart, the pain of your confusion is consuming you. Even if Sleep allowed me to explain things to you, I believe it wouldn’t help. This is something that will be a very slow process for you to learn,” and then almost with a note of humor in his voice, he added, “Wouldn’t want your mind to burst into flames, now would we?”

Purely out of shock and confusion I lean away from him to look at him through blurry tearful eyes. “What?”

“Ah… well, yes…” he pauses, clears his throat then falls to silence once again.

“Vessel…?”

A small smile crosses his lips. “I don’t want you worrying about anything else right now. It was a joke, but probably an ill-timed one.”

I shake my head, deciding he was probably right and lay my head back on his shoulder, leaning sideways slightly to watch his face.

“Was that thing going to kill me?”

Vessel shakes his head, his smile returning momentarily. “Well, potentially it could’ve, but it would not have intended to have done so. That one…” he thinks for a moment. “To explain it in a way you could understand without saying too much, that one is like a child, albeit a very large and powerful one. It has very little consciousness or capacity for understanding its actions. She likely was more excited at the idea that she’d have someone to play with.”

“She?” I mutter.

Vessel nods, but doesn’t explain any further.

“It burned in the sunlight,” I told him.

He nods again.

“IV spoke.”

He smiles when I say this. “You were expecting to go deaf.”

“II implied that I would.”

“Well, IV covered your ears for a reason.”

“I don’t understand.”

Vessel thinks for a moment, mutters something under his breath and then sighs. “I cannot elaborate further,” he says sadly.

“You said to think about what you said about that… altar,” I say, changing the subject. “After that voice said you were a demon.”

He tenses slightly but doesn't break eye contact.

“You said it was sacred.”

He relaxes again and nods.

“Demons aren’t sacred creatures,” I mutter sleepily.

Vessel scoops his arm under my legs and shifts slightly to pick me up, and sets me on the bed, covering me with the blanket.

“Sleep, darling.”

“I’m not done talking to you,” I object.

The hint of a smile plays on his lips as he takes a seat beside me, back leaning against the headboard of the bed.

“What else would you like to know?”

I think for a moment, the drowsiness now stronger than ever. “What’s your favorite color?”

He thinks for a moment. “Blue.”

“Hmm,” I thought for a moment, trying to decide mine so that I could tell him but slip into unconsciousness before I have a chance to open my mouth again.

A little bit of IV for you, and if it wasn't implied well enough, Vessel absolutely fell and ate shit while he was upstairs.

A harsh cut off to this chapter, but I'm expecting the next one to be out very soon.

Taglist: @dravenskye, @xladyxfatex (let me know if you wanna be added so you can keep up with the story and be notified for the next chapter !!!)

love y'all!! bye bye <3

#sleep token #vessel #iii #ii #iv #sleep token vessel #vessel x reader #aqua regia

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ickyarson777 · 23 days ago

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I can't stop thinking of his interlude during the room below and "You saved me"

And now it's turned into "I thought I got better, but maybe I didn't"

#genuinely nauseous

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ickyarson777 · 23 days ago

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I’m the beautiful partner who did the editing 🤭

Indulge and Reciprocate. Remember, everything is subjective.

Apple of the Eye

Hello all, I'm the Alaskan Bull worm, and this is the start of my Sleep Token fan fiction. A little information about me, I've been a fan of Sleep Token since December of 2020. Found them by accident while searching up what Nazareth was on YouTube. Been an avid listener since then. I'm not the best writer, I struggle with grammar, so I had my beautiful partner help me with editing. This story is not what I think is happening in the music, rather a combination between the music and my own experiences. I'm aware that I experience the music is quite different from others, just keep an open mind when reading. I also have a very demanding job, so please bare with me on updating the story. Also I only downloaded Tumblr for this reason, so I'm very new to all this. Thank you.

Warning: Mentions of drug use, child abuse, gore, and vulgar language.

Thread The Needle•

An adolescent boy of 14 years found himself on a vacant ocean of sand. The desert-like vacuum of space was massive, making the boy feel insignificant as his eyes darted back and forth, looking for anything he could recognize. His dull grey eyes had a hard time adjusting to how bright the sand was. He called out with a soft frail voice. No one responded. He began looking around frantically, searching for something, anything to comfort him in his frightened state. Then he spotted something in the sky, something small. He couldn't comprehend what it was, he ran towards it anyway. He stared up at the sphere-like object in the sky as it grew in size with each step he took. Just as suddenly as he appeared within this barren wasteland, water touched his aching feet.

He gasped, recoiling back into the sand, and landed on his back. He quickly lifted his head to see an endless body of water gazing at the boy. He looked down to see the sand clumping together on his feet, making them itch. He groaned and got back up. As he did, he looked back up at the object in the sky. It was the moon. The same moon he'd been seeing his entire life. Something was different… something was off… it was cracked? As the boy noticed the small crack on the moon something else caught his attention, the sound of something rushing towards him. He looked back down to see a wave of black water rushing towards him with such voracity that every part of the boy's body felt it was in danger. His eyes began to unfocus, his fingers were shot with ice-cold blood, and his heart fluttered. But he looked back up at the moon. He closed his eyes and opened his arms as he listened to the waves move in closer and closer towards his frail body. CRASH

“___ Wake up! Y-you're going to be late for school! How many goddamn times do I have to wake you up?!”

Boy woke up drenched in sweat in his bed which was covered in clean, unfolded clothes.

“I'm up.” He yelled out. He groaned softly and got out of his bed. A pair of tight jeans slithered up his legs and a black hoodie wormed its way onto his body.

“Hurry up! I'm sick of waiting for you!” the voice called out again. It was a woman's voice, it was harsh and it had a monotone drone.

Boy's room was a mess. Trash on the floor, wardrobes open but empty, plates with rotten and dried out food covered his bedside table. The walls were piss yellow and his ceiling fan rattled with each revolution. Boy's chest started to feel tight as he grabbed his black school bag and walked out of his room.

What greeted him outside his room was a coffee creamer bottle lying on the floor of his kitchen and a beer cap lying next to it. The smell coming from the creamer reeked of cheese and mold. The kitchen was a wreck. Unwashed dishes towered in the smelly sink, the once white tiled floor now a tarnished yellowish-brown from stains that were never washed away. At the left corner of the kitchen was a tall woman standing at a mesh door impatiently tapping her foot. She had a half-drunk beer in her hand. Her face was covered in wrinkles, but her cheeks were sunken in. Her eyes were droopy with eye bags barely supporting them. She was uncomfortably skinny, her clothes hung off her body as if they were holding on for dear life. She scratched at her arms as she groaned.

“About fuckin time. Get in the truck.” She groaned with acidic hatred flowing out of her mouth. Boy walked past her, his body seizing as he passed her. The smell of burnt rubber never failed to make him nauseous.

Boy and his mother rode in a 1985 Toyota Tacoma. The inside of the truck was scarred with the scent of cigarettes and vinegar. The interior cloth and dashboard were yellow, stained with more ominous blotches. Boy's seat was too big for him, it made him feel small. He was sitting as close to the door's window as he possibly could, staring out of the window, trying not to breathe in the cigarette smoke. His throat got dry as he remembered what he had to ask his mom. His heart began to flutter as he turned his head towards his mother.

“Mo-”

“Goddamn it ___, how many fucking times do I have to tell you to not talk while you are in the truck.”

Boy lowered his head quickly and stared at his feet.

“Look at me when I'm talking to you. How many times? How many times do I have to tell you until you understand that I don't want you to talk to me while I'm driving?!”

He flinched as her harsh words grew louder. He remained silent as she waited for an answer.

“I swear to god boy if I have to ask you one more time I'm going to pull this truck over.”

Tears formed in the boy's eyes as he looked up at his mother. “I don't know, I'm sorry.” The boy pleaded.

Mother looked at him and scoffed, “I better not see a tear fall or I'll give you something to cry about. Since you got me disobeying the law, what did you want to ask me?”

The boy stared into his mother's eyes. He didn't want to speak, every part of him felt humiliated and insignificant. “M-Michael wants to play soccer after school. Can I play with him?...”

“Fine. But you are walking home. Don't lose your key again or I won't let you in.”

“Yes ma'am”

Later that day, Boy was walking home from school as the sun set. He pulled the flashlight out of his backpack as it became too dark for him to see.

On the path to his home, there were no streetlights shining on the road or the adjacent sidewalk, just passing headlights that blinded the boy every time they drew near and lights from nearby convenience stores. His mind was quiet, his heart was a steady beat, and his muscles felt relaxed. As he passed an alleyway, the smell of something sweet grabbed his nose, forcing him to look in that direction. What met his eyes was a man staring at the moon with his back bent so far back that it looked like a backward C. Something was burning in the man’s hands, shining just bright enough to show the man's face, alive with an expression of euphoria. The boy's blood ran cold seeing the man. He quickly ran down the street, fearing the man might react upon noticing him.

He stared at the dark ground as he desperately tried to catch his breath. Sweat dripped from his nose onto the sidewalk he could no longer see, and the sound of wind dancing in the leaves terrified the boy. Soft sounds of nature's ballad engulfed the boy as his eyes darted around trying to find anything familiar, but his vision was weak and nothing was discernable in the dark.

The boy fell to his knees and curled into a ball, crying to himself, “Go away. Please. Please go away.”

Suddenly a soft, warm feeling graced his back. The noise was gone, and so was the feeling of death. The only thing that met the boy was pure bliss. He slowly rose his head up off the ground and looked around. Yet again, nothing. Then he looked up. The moon's beautiful glow invited him in. He couldn't help but stare at it. It was so warm and comforting. Something about the moon wanted the boy, and the boy couldn't help but to give in. He cupped his hands and lifted them towards the moon. A loving embrace grazed his cold face and wiped away his tears. Just as she appeared, she disappeared. Clouds engulfed the moon, stripping away his comfort. He became frantic immediately.

“W-wait. Wait no… wait please no. Take me. Take me!”

A single word resonated in his head as a response to his plea.

The boy raced into his house, slamming the door behind him! He ran past the kitchen towards his room, completely ignoring the shattered glass on the floor. As he swung his door open he noticed his mother in the living room on the floor. Her body was contorting backward with her back raised into the air and both her head and feet touching the floor. A belt wrapped around her arm, making the veins in her hands bulge out a blue hew. A small, thin needle with a brown sludge inside of it stuck out of his mother’s arm, leaking slightly. She groaned softly as her feet twitched ever so slightly. The boy didn't care anymore, he closed his door and jumped onto bed. The window next to his bed shined with a soft glow, what greeted him outside the window was the moon, wishing him a good night. And just like that, his eyes closed, allowing his body to embrace the undying warmth of her. Sleep.

“Are you not hungry, darling?” the sound was like thousands of heavenly voices caressing the boy's ears as he opened his eyes to see a dark garden. This void-like palace greeted him with a chorus of hymns and beauty that pleased the eye. Fruits, vegetables, berries, fungus, and meat surrounded the boy. He lay under a canopy that was made by the core of a massive tree that scraped the skies with its fingers. The boy looked around, expecting to see the person who was talking to him.

“W-where am I?” the boy shyly asked as he got up from a bed of red roses.

“Somewhere safe. Somewhere away from all the monsters.”

The boy hesitated as he stood at the exit of the canopy.

“Do not worry my sweet angel. No need to hesitate. I want to protect you. Your life has been so unfair. You do not deserve the horrors that you've experienced. You are but a baby and a baby needs to be nurtured.”

The skin on the boy rose in bumps as he hung his head low. He stood in the middle of the entrance of the bough trying his hardest not to cry, but he just couldn't hold it in. Tears began to run down the soft face of the boy.

“Sh sh sh… it's ok my baby boy. You are a part of me now. For as long as you live, you will always be by my side.”

The boy started to wipe his tears as he looked around for this mysterious being.

“I'm sorry. But you cannot see me yet. The world hates me for who I am. They hate me for who I was born of, not the person I am, and the same for you. I want to protect you, but I cannot do that until we bond together. Once you accept me, I'll forever protect you. I'll always be there to love you. But you need to let me in.”

“H-how?!”

“Go on and eat an apple. Once you do that, the world will no longer hate me for the being I am and will respect us. They will love us. They will accept us. We will forever be entangled, embracing each other in the pool of infinity.”

The boy trembled softly as he took his first step out of the bough. He walked past endless fruits of various tastes and shapes. But he ignored all of them, walking down a wooden path towards a tree full of apples. Soft hums graced his ears as he got closer to the tree.

“Be not afraid my sweet boy. Together we will walk the earth and comfort each other against the cruelties of the world. Come on and find out.”

Finally, the boy reached the tree. He looked at his hand as he sniffled one last time. He looked up at the lowest apple, bright and red, with 6 bruises on its almost flawless skin. His fingers stretched to grab it, but couldn't quite reach it.

“Go on! Reach! You're almost there!!”

With a quick snap, the apple was in his harsh cold hands. The hums stopped as he stared at the shining apple. In a world of dark abyss, this apple was the only thing that had color. The boy closed his eyes as he opened his mouth to bite into the apple. With the closing of his jaws, what met him was a pain that shot throughout his entire body, forcing him to experience pain he couldn't fathom was possible.

“Lend me your body, and I'll give you my eyes. Together we will rid this world of the hatred that fills us both. My beloved Vessel, worry no more. I am here.”

#sleep token #sleep token vessel #sleep token theory

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ickyarson777 · 23 days ago

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who knows 🤗🤭🤫

Ripped Lace, Cut Glass- IV

Tread, Ancient Water Salt

Hello hello again!

Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4

Word count: 2,212

Content warnings: minor fear and dread, blood, religious and ritual imagery, demons mentioned, vessel is so sad (but y'all get no explanations lmao), some vore-ish vibes (its sleep token, did you expect anything else?).

After my conversation and subsequent agreement with Vessel, he led me upstairs and down a hallway of doors, stopping at the fifth to the left.

“My room is directly across,” he said, gesturing to the door gently. “If you need anything, I’d say knock, but the others will likely know before you consider asking anyone.”

“Can you not read minds?” I asked.

He thinks for a moment before answering, “I can, but I felt you’d be more comfortable without me probing around in your thoughts, so I refrain from doing so, though sometimes it is hard.”

I was grateful for his consideration of my privacy but not comforted, considering he implied the other three paid no mind to who they thought they were listening to.

He smiles slightly. “You’re quite vulgar in your mind,” he says. “III thinks you… swear like a sailor, is it? An odd saying, do sailors swear often?”

His cluelessness was oddly endearing.

“So you stay out of my mind, but the other three don’t, and you end up hearing everything anyway because they don’t keep thoughts to themselves?”

He averted his gaze slightly. “I am trying, heart.”

“That’s not my name,” I say. “My name is-” he gently reached forward and covered my mouth with his hands.

“Don’t think about it,” he said. “If you relinquish that power to anyone here you’ll be overtaken before you realize.”

I push his hand away and in the low light of the hallway, his eyes seem to widen just slightly.

“Ah, the paint,” he says softly.

Some of the paint on his hand must’ve rubbed off onto my face. “There is a bathroom attached to your room, you can wash there.”

I nod, ready for the conversation to be over. I want to be alone, away from the eyes and the mind readers. I want to be completely alone in my thoughts. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” he asks gently.

I shake my head. “I want to be alone.”

He nods understandingly. “Then you will have what you need. I’ll have one of the three send food up for you, take all the time you need, I’ll tell them to try and stay out of your thoughts.”

With that, he turns and walks back the way we had come from.

After he’s disappeared down the stairs, I open the heavy wooden door. The room is large, with a sofa on one wall and an armchair beside it, angled to look over a balcony covered by heavy curtains. The bed is big, neatly made with a plush-looking comforter and a throw blanket draped over the end. There are nightstands on either side of the bed, each with a lamp. A bookshelf is built into one wall, a desk below it, and a dresser angled in the corner. On the wall beside the sofa, adjacent to the door I’ve just walked through, is another door, open, revealing the bathroom.

I lock the door behind me and step into the bathroom, flicking the light on. It's nice, for a bathroom sink with a large counter, all of it is fully stocked with anything I might need. There is a large floor-to-ceiling window in this room, another balcony I realize. The bathtub is situated in front of it. The window is covered by a curtain, but I can see the rays of moonlight peeking through the cracks.

In the cabinets beneath the sink there are towels, neatly folded. One of the cabinets, the one in the corner of the counter, hides a laundry chute. There’s a small table sitting beside the bathtub, covered in bottles and jars. I pick a few up and read the labels. All of them are lavish products, body oils, aromatherapy solutions, Epsom salts, and soaks.

Finally, I glance at myself in the mirror. I look like a mess, completely disheveled, with heavy eye bags to top it all off. Smudged over my cheeks, lips, and chin is a vague hand-shaped splotch of paint.

I turn, run the bath, and bathe myself quickly, not bothering with any of the fancy products, hardly even bothering to actually wash myself before getting out. At this point, the only thing I’m worried about is getting in bed.

I step back into the room, towel wrapped around myself, and hear a sharp couple of knocks on the door.

“Hey doll, it’s III,” I hear his voice muffled through both the mask and the door. “Brought you some food and clothes.”

“Don’t call me that,” I say a bit sharply.

I hear him snicker quietly. “Don’t suppose you’d give me your name then?” he remarks.

I sigh, wishing he’d just put the stuff down outside the door and just leave.

“Ok, ok, no need to think so snippy about it,” he says, still laughing.

I hear some shuffling, a couple of small thuds, and then a series of footsteps, gradually getting quieter.

Once I’m sure he’s gone, I open the door and quickly bring everything inside, closing the door and locking it behind me once again. A large tray holds an equally large plate of food, an empty glass and a pitcher of water, a napkin, neatly folded, and silverware sitting on top. The clothes consist of a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt, both much larger than my usual size, and a folded note.

I dress quietly, noting the scent of rain and incense on the clothes, and begin eating. As I chew, I unfold the note.

‘Hope you don’t mind wearing my clothes for the night, I’ll send someone to the town to retrieve your belongings tomorrow, along with some extra things for you.

-Vessel’

I finished eating what I could in silence and slid into the bed, quickly falling into a heavy sleep.

In my dream, I was in the forest. It was dark, still night, and I could hear the leaves rustling in the gentle breeze that passed through. The moon shone down on me, stars twinkling above. The floor of the forest was dim, but much more visible than I expected in the dead of night. The mansion was nowhere to be seen, with no golden glow to indicate the direction it might be in either. I didn’t recognize anything around me, but I didn’t expect to either.

No one was visible to me, but I was being led through the trees, something tangible but unseen tugging on my hand.

I could hear something. I wasn’t sure what. Whispers maybe? A song? How many voices were there? I couldn’t tell if it was one or a hundred.

The darkness began to change, shadows closed in and wrapped around me, but there was a brighter light just ahead. The hand that guided me continued at its pace, steady but not quick. I couldn’t force myself to move faster, but fear began spreading in the wake of confusion. There was something in the dark, something coming closer with each step we took. I wanted to open my mouth, tell my guide that whatever it was, it was going to consume us, to nourish the wretched epiphany, to feed the embodiments of agony and shadow, creating a life for torment and pain, to dance in the ashes of its desolating power and laugh at the cruelty it bestows upon those who are so unfortunate to view its divine blasphemy, to-

He is here. The voices grew so loud, that my thoughts were drowned out entirely. He is here, and he suffers.

We’d reached the light in front of us. A small clearing in the woods with a wall of stone, encircling structures inside. The stone was carved with runes and depictions of vines, flowers, and animals, but they all looked so odd, skeletal, and visceral. The wall had an opening at the front, and glancing through, I could see one on the other side as well.

In the center, there was a podium holding up a bowl. I couldn’t see inside of it, but something was burning in it. The smell of myrrh and sandalwood floated through the air, covering something metallic. It made me slightly nauseous.

No one was here with us. With me. I was still alone, no one visible to me, and the whispering voices were quiet now.

I step closer, no longer restrained by my invisible guide, onto the stone floor of the structure. The inside walls were carved as well, just as delicately as the outside, more runes covered the inside here. In the center of both of the walls, the sigil that Vessel and the other men wore on their masks was carved. With a sickening twist in my stomach, I realized that the sigils were the source of the metallic scent I’d picked up. Carved in stone, but retraced in blood, dripping down the walls and pooling at the base. It traced its way along the edges of the wall, not far, not enough to see from the outside. I hear quiet steps approaching from behind me, but I’m unable to move now.

I feel a hand on my shoulder, shaky but firm. Slowly, he turns my body to face him.

Now more clearly than ever, I could see him. His mask shifted ever so slightly in the moonlight. I almost mistook his expression for worry, but I knew beyond comprehension that it was a sadness deeper than anyone could fathom.

His hands still shaking, he reached forward and took my face between them. So quietly he spoke, “Blessed by the gods, so, so beautiful in body, mind, and spirit.”

I realized then he was crying, as a tear traced its way through the heavily smeared pain on his face, following a path that was carved there from many tears before.

“Your mind is here, not your body, beloved,” he told me. He regarded me quietly, not speaking for a moment. “There is so much confusion consuming you, darling I wish I could give you the answers you want,” he fell silent again.

He took a deep breath, two more tears falling down his face. A small smile graced his lips. “I can hear the mind of my friends, of anyone, but it’s proximal, not constant. The others don’t come here, this altar is sacred, Sleep will not allow them to enter. It is quiet here, there are no extra thoughts or words, no feelings of anything except myself. Even now, I cannot hear your mind no matter how hard I try. I’m glad for that, a chance to experience your presence the way you experience mine.”

His many eyes search my face, each moving in different directions, taking in different features, all of them blinking simultaneously.

“What do you make of me, heart? I know you can’t speak now, but what do you believe I am? I cannot tell you, but oh, how I wish I could reveal myself to you. And if you could assume for yourself, try to piece it all together, what would you say?”

Demon.

The thought isn’t my own, and watching Vessel’s face, I know he heard the word as well.

His eyes lower sadly. He speaks quietly in that language I don’t understand for a moment, almost pleading in his tone.

“To convince you of such a thing, knowing how your life will play out from here,” he says quietly. “Torture.” Silence for a moment again. “Despite what you hear, my love, know that I am not. Sleep won’t allow me to speak more than that to you. Think about what I’ve said of this place.”

Sacred.

“No harm will come to you, regardless,” he says. “I will not allow it, even if it means my promise is ripped away from eternally damned fingers.”

He placed a hand on my forehead, “Sleep now, darling. Let your dreams become quiet, let your mind rest.”

With the final word, my vision faded out, and I was engulfed in darkness.

Around me, the shadows floated and molded to my body. I felt like I was floating in water, currents wrapping around me and twisting me around in the deep. The abyss swallowed me whole.

Mortal flesh. You are a delicacy. It was that same quiet voice I’d heard earlier when Vessel was begging me to stay. Your anger will fuel nothing but my desire for consumption, and eventually, my hunger will be satiated. Redemption or demise, the choice will be yours, and when that choice is made, you’ll have no consciousness to discern the path. He begs for a chance for you, little human. The Vessel has lost so much on his journey here, one more loss might tip him over the edge.

Finally, my unconsciousness became true again. The shadows receded and gave way to blissful emptiness, which eventually turned into the twinkling stars once again. I floated in oblivion, my mind lazily mulling over the events of my dreams. In my dream state, I couldn't tell if what I’d seen was a reflection of reality, or a conjuring of my mind, fears, or the like. And in this dream state, at least for now, I didn’t seem to care. I lie there, studying the stars, until I wake again.

Feedback and criticism is always appreciated, let me know what you think!

Taglist: @dravenskye, @xladyxfatex

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ickyarson777 · 23 days ago

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Introduction And Masterlist

I've been a longtime lurker here, but within the past year I've actually began posting, so I figured I should probably make one of these.

Hi! My name is Eden, I'm 19 years old, I'll be 20 in June.

I'm ADHD and autistic, and my hyperfixations are where I channel my creativity. Reading, writing and video games are some of my hobbies. My music taste is absolutely all over the place, I listen to a huge variety of genres and artists, though the past year has been my dip into metal (and its subgenres) and some rap.

Per my Spotify stats, my current top 5 artists are Sleep Token, Kendrick Lamar, Hozier, Spiritbox and Bluey respectively (last one courtesy of my kid).

Outside of music, I love learning, history is one of my favorite subjects, especially ancient and prehistoric history. The Legend of Zelda series is an all time favorite of mine. A few of my special interest include frogs, bugs, and rocks.

Use any pronouns for me, gender identity and sexuality wise, I am [REDACTED]. I was confused about both and remain so to this day, so I've given up on labels :)

That being said, here's some of my work.

(Also, I haven't written anything nsfw yet so minors feel free to interact, but if there ever comes a day that I do, I'll make sure to tag it as such. Even though y'all won't listen, I certainly didn't 😅)

Sleep Token

Gamer! III x Reader- One-shot, fluff

Ripped Lace, Cut Glass- Series, Inhuman! Vessel x reader (or unnamed protagonist if you'd prefer)

I- Test My Worth In Blood

II- Unrevealed

III- Time, Lived Again

IV- Tread, Ancient Water Salt

V- Gold Rush, Acid Flux

VI- With Pain as Your Language

VII- The Past, The Future

That's all the writing I've got for now, but remember! Asks are open and I crave requests.

I'll try my best to write pretty much anything including NSFW (emphasis on try, I've never written smut). There are a few NSFW subjects I won't write though, such as:

Anything involving minors/ageplay

Bathroom kinks

Raceplay

Snuff

And anything I can't remember rn, but don't feel comfortable writing

Also on the subject of things I won't write, but related to Sleep Token. I do know their names, I have seen their faces. I will not write about the actual people behind the masks, just the characters they play. I will not ever describe the members past their stage appearances and more often than not, I will make the masks a part of their faces because that's the way I envision them when I write. I'm big on the inhuman Sleep Token stuff, a monsterfucker at heart 😭

Have fun, be safe, drink water and read my work !

#masterlist #introductory post

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