#Inhuman vessel | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

paige1722 · 11 days ago

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An Offering | ch. 2 |

Pairing: Sleep Token x Reader

Summary: Cryptid, inhuman beings have spent their whole lives in Eden serving their deity, Sleep. What happens when one day you show up and no one can figure out why Sleep has delivered you to them? Should you stay with them or will you do whatever it takes to find your way back home?

Warnings: sickness, brief mentions of death. Slowburn. implied past abuse. (Please, let me know if I missed any.)

Word Count: 8.4k

masterlist | ch. 1 | Ch. 3 |

Chapter 2:

iii’s pace was slow, being mindful of his long legs and your tired form following timidly beside him. Every so often you will catch him watching you from the corner of his eye, he probably thinks you’re planning to run off or maybe try to attack him when his guard is down.

After all you two just met only a few hours ago, and haven’t had a lot of opportunities to get to know each other. Even so, there is still that strange nostalgic feeling you get every time you look at him. He probably just reminds you of someone from your past it is probably better to not dwell on it too much, well not right now at least.

The deeper you both ventured into the garden, the more the surrounding foliage seemed to shimmer softly in the darkness. You had heard of certain fungi and marine bacteria that were phosphorescent, but you couldn’t recall ever seeing actual plants with the same eerie glow in anything other than movies and shows.

The soft light from the plants was calming, yet it carried an unsettling sense of otherworldliness—like something out of a dream. You imagine this was how Alice must have felt when she first stumbled into Wonderland.

“Why do the plants do that?” You ask gesturing to the plants all around you, “I mean, why are they glowing.”

iii steps falter for a second before he catches himself and continues walking. He runs a hand pushing back the red strains of hair that have fallen in front of his mask obscuring his vision.

“Sleep made the plants this way to light our path through the darkness.” He answers as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You weren’t quite sure how to respond to that, considering it was one of the most confusing and concerning sentences you have ever heard in your entire life. Instead, you opted to just give him an acknowledging hum.

The farther you walked throughout Eden, the heavier the atmosphere began to feel, like there was a static charge brewing in the air. Your skin tingled, but you figured it was just your anxiety about this new environment making you nervous and playing tricks on you.

Before you can ask iii any more questions the sounds of loud grunts and strange honking catch your attention causing you to grab iii’s arm and tuck yourself into his side. He peeks down at you coweering behind his tall lanky frame, seeing the fear written on your face at the unusual sounds emerging from the darkness.

He jerks his head towards the direction of the sounds, “Come follow me.”

He slips out of your hold and begins walking off the path towards the large thorned bushes that lined the way. As you stay where he left you frozen in fear, scared of what you might find if you leave the path.

iii turns around beckoning you to follow him with his hand, “I won’t let anything hurt you, I promise.” He says taking a step back towards you and extending his hand out for you to take.

You look at his rough calloused hand, still stained red. The sight of it has come to comfort you the longer you've stayed in this place, a strange thought almost as if the sight of his stained skin was something you’d seen before, maybe in a dream.

Reality rears its ugly head making you pause, you don’t even really know him maybe he is been leading you toward your death. And he quickly grew tired of your stupid questions and decided that this was the perfect opportunity to go ahead and finish you off.

Alarm bells ring throughout your head when a small voice from the back of your mind reminds you, that he has helped you quite a bit already. He did save you from drowning and gave you some weird medicine that helped your throat and made your headache go away. He probably wouldn’t have gone to all that trouble if he was just to kill you when you started asking random questions.

Tentatively, you place your hand in his looking into his comforting eyes, “ok, I trust you.”

With your hand in his, he pulls you along with him closer and closer to the strange noises emanating from just beyond the bushes. He pushes brush out of the way being mindful of the thorns, clearing the path for you to step into the opening to see a huge group of flamingos foraging in the moonlight.

Your jaw dropped at the sight. Never in your life did you imagine you’d witness something so beautiful. In the light of one of the brightest moons you've ever seen stood flamingos. They roamed gracefully in the middle of an alkaline lake, guiding their young as they foraged for food.

As you watched the group, your gaze shifted to the back, where, slightly apart from the others, a pure black flamingo stood on one leg. It seemed to sense your stare, for it slowly lifted its head and locked eyes with you—eyes that seemed almost too intelligent for a bird.

iii voice breaks you out of your fixated stare on the black flamingo, “Amazing, right? Sometimes, I like to come here to clear my head. It is soothing to watch them all flock together like this.”

Looking at iii casually leaning against a tree with his arms crossed across his chest staring happily out at the birds was beginning to create a longing feeling deep within your chest again making it hard to breathe.

Tearing your eyes away from him, you looked down at the ground trying to stop yourself from crying, not understanding what was happening to you, where this feeling of longing and loneliness came from all of a sudden.

Trying to distance yourself from these abrupt feelings and focusing your mind back on the sight in front of you, you whisper “Did you know a flock of flamingos is specifically referred to as a flamboyance.”

iii lets out a small huff of laughter at your fun fact, “No, I didn’t.”

At the sound of his laughter, you found yourself smiling, the depressing and heavy feeling from earlier dissipating like it was never there in the first place. From the corner of your eye, you watch as iii pushes himself off the tree moving to stand beside you.

He turns his head like he is about to say something, when all of the flamingos raise their heads looking up to the sky as if sensing something unknown to you, the air becoming thicker.

iii grabs you around the middle staggering back at the same moment the weather abruptly changes. Clouds appear in the sky covering the moon, plunging the area into darkness. The flamingos running from sight fleeing from the incoming storm. The static charge you felt in the air earlier returned much more severely this time causing your hair to stand on end.

Having seen enough science documentaries in school to know exactly what this means, you stiffen in iii’s hold, who is still holding you tightly against his chest. He drags you with him back the way you previously came, his body shielding you from the thorned bush.

“Come on we’ve got to go now!” yells iii over the sounds of cracking filling the area, panic in his voice. He switches his hold on you, opting to grab your hand running as fast as you both can.

Turning to look behind you in the spot you were both just standing a huge bolt of lightning hits the ground momentarily blinding you. Flames erupt covering the grass and plants. The fire spread quickly as if it was trying to chase after you both.

Running for your life through the garden, everything suddenly looks much different than before, more menacing. The moon still shining brightly through the gaps of the clouds seemed to create an ominous glow in the wild that wasn’t there before.

Like something out of a horror movie, nothing can be heard except for the crackling of the flames behind you and labored breathing as you struggle to keep up with iii.

All serenity seemingly stripped from the area feeling like death itself was after you both now. This isn’t a storm that you're used to with rain, and thunder. Instead, it’s pure electricity and heat, causing the flames to grow stronger with every passing second, the sky brimming with lightning causing the sky to brighten with every crack. This is the type of storm you would imagine taking place in a storybook when a character somehow managed to anger a god, incurring their wrath.

iii feels you struggling to keep up with him, his grip almost bruising on your wrist but he doesn’t want to risk accidentally letting go and losing you. Fearing that if he lost you now, he would never find you again. Coming to a fork in the path, iii falters stopping in his tracks causing you to slam into his back.

Out of breath, you grunt out, “Why are we stopping?”

You can both feel the heat from the flames getting closer to where you stood motionless, sweat dripping down your face from the heat and exertion from running. Not wanting to burn to death you pull at the hand you're still holding yelling out his name, snapping him out of whatever trance iii was in. He turns his head looking at the flames before turning his gaze towards your fearful expression.

“I’m sorry. We won’t make it to Vessel in this, we are going to have to try and find iv instead.” iii shouts before he starts running again down the path on the left dragging you with him.

You are trying to keep up with his long legs but struggling greatly, thankful for his grip on you, or else you’re certain you would have fallen into the flames at least twenty times by now without it.

You aren’t sure who this iv person you are now going to is, but at this moment you aren’t really sure you care who they are as long as they can save you from burning to death. The path you are on starts becoming more narrow. The trees clustering close together, causing you both to have to weave through, the low-hanging branches hitting your skin causing small cuts to appear on your face, making you briefly wish you had a mask on too.

A million thoughts are running your head the longer you run for your lives. You begin to wonder if iii actually knew where he was taking you, or if he was just guessing leading you both to your deaths. The pain is your head returning at full force, along with the burning in your lungs and throat with every intake of breath, you know you won’t be able to continue for much longer.

As if sensing your thoughts, iii shouts over the crackling of the flames “Just a little bit longer. You can do it!”

The heat was starting to get to iii, if it was raining or if this happened near his cave then he could easily save you both from the flames but alas luck was not on his side at the moment. iii was silently praying to Sleep, that you would both be able to make it in time. Every step caused his knees to shake but he had to keep going, he had to get you both to safety.

Sleep gave you to him, to all of them, he couldn’t let anything bad happen to you now, just a little bit farther and you’ll both be safe at iv’s sanctuary for Sleep. Hope fills his chest as he reaches a familiar area, realizing safety is just over the small hill in their path.

Reaching the top of the hill, you feel your knees buckle beneath you causing you to fall throwing your arms out to try and catch yourself as you hit the ground. At the feeling of your hand leaving his, iii turns around to see you lying on the ground chest falling rapidly.

Without sparing a second thought he bends down grabbing your arms and hauling you over his shoulder, holding on to your thighs to keep you from falling from his hold. He continues running towards the small sanctuary carved into the side of the mountain.

The pain and agony returned with full force, the swaying of your body from III’s running only making it worse. A strange whisper echoes from the flames causing you to lift your head from where it hangs limply at iii’s back and look into the flames.

Your frazzled mind must be playing tricks on you because you can swear that you see a towering cloaked figure with writhing tentacles protruding from underneath the hood. From their back vast wings are stretched out showing their massive wingspan and in their grip, they held a huge scythe.

Even though you can’t see any eyes, you can swear the creature is staring directly at you, peering into the very depths of your soul causing the ringing in your ears to intensify causing you to let out a pathetic whine. Dark spots begin clouding your vision, while a cold sweat forms on your skin.

iii says something in response to the noise you let out, but you can’t understand him everything is becoming too much to handle. You haven’t even been in this place a whole day and yet this is the second time you have been within a hair breath of dying a horrific death, you think bitterly to yourself as you succumb to the darkness. The last thing you see is that horrifying creature disappearing into the flames, as rain begins to trickle down from the sky.

Relief fills iii as the rain cleanses the area, Sleep answering his prayer. The rain is slowly extinguishing the flames that threaten to burn everything in its path. The timing was great too, iii doesn’t think iv would have enjoyed him bringing a burning inferno to his doorstep like this.

Passing through the threshold of iv’s sanctuary, iii calls out his name hoping he is somewhere inside and can help them. He is terrified that something is seriously wrong with you ever since he felt you go limp against him once again, he really hopes this doesn’t become a habit between you both.

The inside of iv’s sanctuary was a lot different than iii’s cave, though it made sense iv was not a siren, like iii so he had no use for an endless abyss of water. Instead of a barren cave, his abode looked much more homely and lived in even if each of their shelters was mainly just used as temporary places to stay and to worship Sleep in their own ways.

All of them preferred to stay with Vessel being together in each other company, plus Vessel’s shelter was a lot bigger and more welcoming than the other. Though sometimes much to their dismay they did have to part ways occasionally.

On the walls hung large, worn-out tapestries, patched and adorned with runes, most of which spoke phrases of worship and offerings. iii had always assumed iv hung them up as a way to absorb some of the sound, offering a bit of relief from his abilities, fearing he might hurt someone.

In the far back corner hidden from view stood a large stone table eerily similar to the one in iii’s cave but iv’s had one of his more cared-for tapestries laid atop it. This was one of iv’s favorites as it depicted all of Sleep’s members in some way or another on it. With still no sign of iv, iii walked to the back towards the table allowing your body to slide down off his shoulder and onto the table carefully laying you on your back.

Since you were both no longer having to run for your lives he was able to breathe and get a better look at the state you were now in. He can see that your face is flushed and covered in sweat. Your eyebrows draw together as if you were in pain. He reaches a hand up to your forehead carefully placing the back of his hand against your skin, you were burning up. A fever iii thought to himself, the effects of the drink he gave you earlier have worn off.

He was really hoping that wouldn’t happen until you had a chance to make it to Vessel who could help you better than he can. But with the fire and it chasing you both, he didn’t have a choice but to come here instead, this place being significantly closer. He leans forward placing his elbows on the table next to your sleeping figure, his head in his hands intertwining his fingers into his hair in frustration, wondering what is he going to do now.

Fatigue began to worm its way into the very fiber of iii’s bones, he has been away from the water for too long but it’s not like he can just leave you here all alone. The sound of the rain getting louder outside reaches his ears, maybe he could just stand outside in the rain for a little bit. It wouldn’t be as good as submerging into the abyss back in his home, but it would help him feel better and give him some energy back, plus it would be better than nothing.

But what if while he is standing outside, something happens to you or your fever gets worse? A hand emerging from behind lands on iii’s shoulder startling him out of his thoughts. He jumps around to see iv standing in front of him eyeing him curiously.

iii slumps his shoulders in relief, “Please help me. I don’t know what to do.”

iv nods his head, gesturing with his hand between iii and you, silently asking what’s going on.

“I think they are a gift to all of us from Sleep. I saved them from drowning but they keep getting sick or hurt, so I thought I would take them to Vessel and he could help make them better. While also figuring out why they are here and what Sleep means by sending them here. But…” his voice cracks as he talks sounding as though he is on the verge of tears.

Hearing this iv, pulls iii into his embrace wrapping his arms around the taller man’s shoulders, iii leans down placing his forehead against iv’s closing his eyes, and letting himself melt into the embrace.

“I don’t know how to help them. They are sick and it keeps getting worse, I tried to lessen the symptoms, hoping it would help until we got to Vessel but it didn’t work. And I’m so tired too. Please iv, what should I do?”

iv pulled his head back from iii’s, making the man open his eyes at the sudden movement. iv places his hand on iii’s chest patting softly before pointing to the opening of the sanctuary, where the rain was still pouring even as the sun slowly started coming up over the horizon, before placing his hand on his own chest and gesturing to you.

Understanding what his companion is trying to tell him, iii nods his head but doesn’t move yet, he trusts iv but the fear of leaving your side and something happening to you gnaws heavily at him. Seeing the internal turmoil taking place inside iii’s mind, iv careful of his ability whispers softly, “It will be ok, go.”

iv didn’t like to talk out of fear of accidentally losing control and hurting someone again, opting instead to stay quiet and gesturing or signing what he was trying to say. Luckily, everyone was always able to understand him never forcing him to talk when he didn’t feel comfortable to, and respecting his decision.

Which was a relief to iv, he feared the others wouldn’t understand him or his wishes but they always did, he wasn’t sure if it was because of Sleep or if it was just their strong connection to one another. So, when iv did choose to speak it was always a shock, causing the one he was speaking to, to feel special and more inclined to listen.

Hearing his whispered words, iii leaned forward lovingly bumping iv’s forehead with his mask before walking to the entrance of the cave and out into the rain for a chance to recharge and collect himself.

Seeing iii disappear out into the downpour, iv turned his attention to you. He stepped beside you, before placing his hand on your forehead similar to how iii had before. Your skin was clammy and hot to the touch, iii is right iv thinks to himself there isn’t much any of them can do for you, not without Vessel at least.

Though as he removes his hand from you he is skeptical about whether or not Vessel would actually be able to do anything either, this sickness doesn’t seem to be the kind that is healed from herbs or elixirs, but instead something you have to do on your own. Letting your body heal itself, whatever it is must run its course, but he can help make you more comfortable.

He walks to the entrance where one of his more tattered tapestries hangs and rips off a small piece of the fabric holding it out underneath the rain, letting the makeshift rag absorb the water. Once it is well saturated, he walks back to you before carefully placing the rag on your forehead hoping to help ease the fever a bit, allowing you to rest easier. As he stares down at your unconscious form, iv lets what iii told him about you sink in.

Sleep giving them all a gift, it wasn’t something that was unheard of whenever their deity was feeling merciful or especially charitable. Sleep would give them all sorts of things like small trinkets, tapestries, or jewels, but this was something else entirely almost unheard of. iv would have to admit, that he is very curious about you, and hopes when you wake up he will be able to learn more about you.

When he first saw you lying there a strange feeling of nostalgia overcame him, as if he had seen you before maybe in a different life. Sleep does in fact work in mysterious ways, always having a reason behind his actions, whether it is for the better or worse iv wasn’t sure.

But as he watched you sleep, he just hoped that their deity was allowing you to have peaceful dreams-something he did not get to have often, distant memories of another life running rampant throughout his head. Letting out a soft sigh, iv gently pats your arm before moving to sit in the corner to keep a watchful eye over you.

—---------------------------------------------

You don’t know where you are, everything is too fuzzy, confusing, and happening too fast. Like fast-forwarding through a movie where it’s all blurring together and the only thing you can make out is the occasional face coming into frame.

That heavy feeling of loneliness and despair is back in your chest making it hard to breathe properly, almost as if your mind and body are trying to grieve but you aren’t sure exactly what. No matter how hard you try, you can’t tell where you are and it’s scaring you. Did you and iii not make it to safety? Is this your life flashing before your eyes before everything fades to black?

Your eyes are slowly adjusting to the room you’re in, the environment coming into focus. You’re in a house of some kind, everything looks vaguely familiar. The room you're in looks lived in filled with books, furniture, knick-knacks, and pictures, though of who, you are not sure.

The faces are all blurred out like someone took the picture while moving the camera. Even though this house looks cozy and warm, a feeling in the pit of your stomach tells you that isn’t the reality. The front door slams open causing you to jump.

Someone enters the room, their face hidden beneath the hood pulled low over their head. They collapse to the floor, burying their face in their knees, and loud sobs echo through the room. Timidly, you walk over to the person trying to get their attention hoping maybe they can help you figure out where you are.

“Hello?” you try calling out but no matter how loud you talk, they don’t reply or even acknowledge your presence. The sound of their cries breaks your heart, feeling a wave of empathy wash over you, the overwhelming urge to comfort them takes priority over trying to find out how you get here. You crouch down to be on their level before slowly reaching your hand out to touch theirs.

Once you make contact with their hand, the cries stop immediately, it feels as if time itself has stopped, everything eerily quiet an unnerving stillness in the air like the calm before the storm. The hooded figure in front of you snaps their head up to stare at you scaring you at the sudden movement making you fall back from your crouched position, but the face staring back at you scares you even more.

They look just like you, unblinking bloodshot eyes stare directly at you, tears leaving a trail down their or your face. You aren’t sure what’s happening but whatever it is you don’t like it. The person in front of you opens their mouth croaking out, “Please, leave me alone. I’m sorry”

Your eyes scan their face trying to understand what they are asking you exactly, unable to determine an answer you gasp out, “What?” in response, confusion evident in your voice.

But they don’t answer your question, instead, footsteps can be heard coming from behind you making you scramble away and onto your feet as fast as you can, pushing your back against the wall on the other side of the room. Though now that you look at them it doesn’t really look like they are looking at you at all but instead through you.

When someone new walks into the room, a gasp gets caught in your throat, and pure unadulterated terror courses through your veins at the sight of them, unwanted memories flowing through your head like a dam bursting open.

“You’re sorry? No, not yet but you will be.” growls out the one person in the world you thought you could trust, someone who was supposed to love and take care of you no matter what happens. Someone, who you thought was the love of your life and you were theirs, but now hatred is the only emotion in their voice and on their face, as they stalk towards the you still cowering down on the ground in front of the door, shaking in fear.

You thought you pushed these memories deep within the reveries of your mind, somewhere deep enough that it would never come to the surface again, but yet here it is playing out right in front of you. You don’t want to relive this, squeezing your eyes shut cupping your hands over your ears trying to block out everything as you scream, you don’t want to be here, anywhere but here make it all stop, make it all go away.

The feeling of hands wrapping around your arms causes you to flail and struggle in their hold, pleading with anyone or anything that is listening to save you.

—-------------

iv looks at you from where he still sits making sure you’re ok and still breathing, you have been asleep for quite a while now, a couple of hours at the very least. He supposes that it is probably time to once again resoak the rag on your forehead. He stands from his seat and makes his way over to you, removing the rag from your face.

Seeing that your skin is no longer flushed, he presses the back of his hand against your checks trying to see if your temperature has gone down anymore from the last time he checked it. You are still warm to the touch but it has significantly improved since you first arrived.

With the rag in hand, iv goes to the entrance, the rain has long since slowed down to a mere drizzle now, so it probably won’t be long before iii comes back inside. At the edge of the entrance to the sanctuary, there is a large leaf situated to collect water, iii probably saw iv using the rain to wet the rag for you and created this to gather the water for when it stopped raining.

Smiling underneath his mask, iv bent down and carefully dipped the rag into the small pool of water carefully, so as to not spill any. Once the rag was wet enough, he stood walking back to you using the rag to clean the sweat off your face, before folding the rag and placing it back over your forehead.

A pained expression appears on your face, as tears begin to leak from your closed eyes. iv watches you begin to toss and turn mumbling out gasps and pleas for help. A nightmare, he thinks as he grabs your arms trying to gently shake you awake. After a few seconds of trying iv began to think he was going to have to run out and find iii.

No matter how hard he tried you didn’t seem to be waking up, just as the thought entered his mind your eyes shot open, yelling out iii’s name in a panic, as you scrambled up to a sitting position the rag falling to the floor with a wet thud. The tears fall much faster now as you struggle to catch your breath looking around frantically.

You look to the person standing at your side expecting to see iii standing beside you, but instead, it’s someone you don’t recognize. iii was making his way back into the cave feeling better and rejuvenated after spending the remainder of the night and a good portion of the day in the rain when he heard you’re panicked voice calling for him, he ran into the cave seeing your fearful state making his way to you.

Once he reached your side, your eyes focusing on him, you immediately throw yourself into his awaiting embrace tangling your fingers in his shirt hold onto him tightly, crying into his chest thinking about the dream featuring a painful memory you tried so hard to forget the long-since healed wounds aching at the recollection.

iii lets your cry into his chest holding onto you with his arms wrapped tightly around you, stroking the back of your head in a reassuring manner. His clothes were still damp from the rain, soaking into your clothes but you paid no mind to it, your mind focusing on finding comfort within the man’s hold.

iii looks at iv, who moved out of the way the second he heard iii’s fast-paced footsteps approaching. iv wished he could be of more comfort to you, but he supposes that will come with time as you do not know him yet.

iii gently began to sway back and forth hoping for you to find some solace in the motion, and beginning to hum in the unknown language again. The unspoken words doing the desired effect helping you calm down and realize that you are safe. Whatever monsters that terrorized you in your dreams wouldn’t follow you here, and if they did iii and iv would stop at nothing to keep you safe.

iii stared down at you as your cries quieted, “what happened?” he asked whether the question was meant for you or the other man standing next to him you weren’t sure, but you answered anyway.

“Just a bad dream” you mutter numbly, voice muffled by iii’s chest.

“Do you want to talk…”

“No” you interrupt him pulling your head away from his chest and moving out of his warm embrace.

Your eyes move to the stationary masked individual standing at iii’s side staring at you questioningly. Your eyes scan over him, he too wears a mask similar to the one iii is wearing the same rune etched into the forehead but the colors are almost inverted black base with gold covering the mouth.

Wearing a leather jacket covered in the same runes and patches that were sewn on the tapestries hanging on the walls of the sanctuary, and a black hood covered his head obscuring most of his face in shadow. All of his exposed skin was painted black unlike iii’s skin painted red.

Seeing your scrutinizing gaze on iv, iii placed his hand on iv’s shoulder to introduce him to you, “This is iv, he is another one of Sleep’s creations like me.” said iii a certain fondness in his voice for the shorter male.

At the sound of his name iv lifted up his hand giving you a small wave and a tilt of his head squinting his eyes, as if he was smiling under his mask. You give your name to the man in return with a small uncertain smile of your own. iii and iv, you are beginning to sense a pattern is everyone’s names.

iv held up both of his hands, with his middle finger bent towards the palm of his hand, his left hand positioned at his forehead and his right hand at his stomach. You draw in your eyebrows at the strange gesture, but before you can ask iii says, “he is asking if you still feel sick?”

Oh, that must have been sign language then, does that mean he can’t talk or just chooses not to you wonder briefly before you do a quick mental check of your body. Your head is no longer pounding and you can actually think clearly, your limbs don’t feel heavy as if they are made of lead, it doesn’t hurt to breathe and your throat doesn’t feel like sandpaper.

Actually considering everything you feel a lot better the best you have felt since you got here, perhaps your impromptu sleep really helped. Though you will have to admit you would probably feel a whole lot better if you could take a shower or something and remove all the sweat and dirt off of you. You look up at the expectant stares of iii and iv, you figure it was probably a long shot but it wouldn’t hurt to ask.

“no, I don’t think so. I would feel less icky and gross though if I was able to take a bath or something,” you say letting out an awkward laugh at the end.

At this iv stands up a bit taller, tapping iii enthusiastically on the shoulder before making a strange gesture on his fingers and pointing outside. Where you are just now noticing the sun barely peeking over the horizon in the distance signaling it would only be up for a few more hours at most, making you wonder just how long you were asleep considering it was still nighttime when you were last awake.

“Are you sure? Is it safe?” asked iii

iv just nodded his head in reply before beckoning you both to follow him with his hand and walk to the entrance of the cave.

iii let out a sigh, before offering his hand out to you to help you off the table and back onto the ground, you were thankful for his help because you were still a little wobbly on your feet and without him, you fear you would have fallen straight to the ground.

“It looks like we are making a quick detour.”

Curious you follow the two men outside and back into the open world, you aren’t sure what you expected to see but this wasn’t it. Everything looks the exact same as before, the plants are thriving, swaying in the gentle breeze. There is no trace of the flames that nearly killed you both just mere hours ago like it didn’t even exist in the first place.

Numbly you continue following the men to where you're not sure but you are too busy trying to rationalize how this is even possible. There should be chaos and destruction everywhere and yet there's not, and they aren’t even acting like this is strange. They just continue walking without a care in the world, as if all of this is a normal occurrence, and fuck for all you know it is, maybe the world here gets cleansed anew with fire all the time.

You are trying not to dwell on this for too long less the headache comes back again and that wouldn't do you any good. You secretly want to ask them about it, about this place and everything, but you aren't even sure what to say or if you are prepared to hear the answer.

iii slows his step to match pace with yours, “Don’t worry. Vessel will be able to answer all your questions and help you find what you're looking for. Well, whenever we do manage to make our way to him.”

You just give him a timid nod in reply not trusting your voice at this moment fearing that you will end up saying something stupid and sounding like an idiot. This place is insane you can’t wait to go home, that thought makes you pause your train of thought. Go home? After the dream you had that awakened a terrible memory from your past, are even sure that you do want to go home? if that is the type of stuff waiting for you, you don’t really feel elated at the idea of returning.

But you have to go home right, it is where you belong. You can't stay here, you don’t belong, right? Do you belong anywhere? You aren’t sure anymore. Plus it is not like they would let you stay here anyway, you are so much different than them and to be quite frank this place seems extremely dangerous if you don’t know what you're doing. Without iii and now iv you aren’t sure how long you would have lasted on your own, so you suppose it was probably a good thing that you didn’t run off on your own when you had the chance at the start of this long journey through this garden.

Sighing to yourself you begin to wonder just how big this place is anyway. You have all been walking in relative silence for a good 15 minutes now. iv occasionally turning around every few minutes to look at you and iii probably to make sure you are both still following his lead. You shake your head solemnly wondering what have you managed to get yourself into.

You are so caught up in your thoughts you don’t realize that iv has stopped walking causing you to plow into his back and letting out a soft grunt as you rub your head from where you smacked your face into his back. iii let out a small giggle at the sight but quickly stopped when you sent a small glare in his direction in response.

Not seeming to mind that you ran into him, he steps out of your way excitedly motioning to the view in front of you. Surrounded by vines and flowers was a small opening in the ground with the bluest water you have ever seen in your life, this was truly like something out of a movie. a hidden hot spring nestled in the heart of a lush garden.

The water, shimmering steaming faintly as it glows under the dimming rays of the sun. Vines and tendrils of ivy drape lazily over the stone edges, creating a barrier around the entrance of the water. Vibrant flowers of purples and soft pinks throughout the vines fill the air with the sweet scent of blossoms and the earthy aroma of the warm, mineral-rich water. This is exactly what you need after the marathon you just went through earlier.

As you stand at the edge of the small spring of water looking down you begin to feel a little weary trusting the water in this place, considering you did end up almost drowning in a pit similar to the one in front of you.

Although, this one was much more welcoming and didn’t look like a neverending pit of darkness. This one was bright and soothing, plus it did kind of help that you could see the bottom, which was probably only a couple of feet deep.

iv stood beside you feeling very pleased with himself that he is able to make you smile. He lifts his hands creating an "S" in sign language crossing his hands at the wrists before throwing them apart.

You might not know a lot of sign language or any really if you're being completely honest with yourself, but that movement you are vaguely familiar with seeing as refs do a similar motion in sports.

“It’s safe?” you question looking iv in the eyes, hoping you were able to correctly guess what he was trying to say.

Iv nods his head in response eyes crinkling from behind the mask, happy that you were able to understand what he was trying to tell you.

You move to get undressed but pause lifting your shirt up turning to look at the two men, who have already turned their backs to you to give you some privacy. But not leaving you alone which, to be honest you are grateful for, you aren’t sure how many more surprises that this place has to offer you can handle right now anyway.

You remove your clothing making a small neat pile on a vine-covered rock. Then you slowly put one leg in and lower yourself into the water, which is perfectly warm.

“Don’t worry, guys. I won’t take too long.”

“It’s ok, love.Take your time, you deserve it.” said iii

Once fully submerged in the water, you dunk your head in the water wetting your hair and letting the warm water soothe any remaining aches and pains you have left. The water burned the small cuts that appeared on your body from the branches and twigs that managed to hit you in the face as you ran from the fire.

You did kind of wish that you had some soap or shampoo but still, this was better than walking around smelling absolutely putrid for the reminder of your time here, you supposed.

As you stare at the backs of the two men keeping guard, you are reminded of iii’s wet clothes from earlier when you threw yourself into his awaiting embrace to comfort you, making you think about what he is, “iii, do you need to get in the water too?”

iii replies, “No, I prefer salt water not freshwater like this anyways I'm good for now. Thanks though.”

Unbeknownst to you, iv makes a rain-like motion with his hands and iii rolls his eyes pretending to be annoyed before you hear his voice muttering to iv, “You know I had no choice at that moment, the rain was better than nothing.” iii huffed crossing his arms over his chest making iv giggle slightly at iii’s pouting.

You continue splashing around in the water, cupping your hands together before bringing the water to your face ridding yourself of the sickness that has been plaguing you since your arrival here. You hum softly thinking out loud, “I wish I had some clean clothes to wear.” The thought of having to put on your sweat-soaked dirty clothes back on is not the most appealing thought, but it was not like you had a lot of other options.

However, iv perked up immediately at hearing you talk softly to yourself and made a small gesture to iii telling him he would be right back before they connected their foreheads holding one another in a loving embrace. Feeling as if this was a special moment that you were intruding upon by watching them you looked away and down into the clear water focusing back on washing yourself.

By the time you looked back up iv was walking away and disappeared into the bushes. Watching iv walk away did make you a bit curious but you just assumed he probably had things to do, maybe he was growing tired of being in your company.

You have to admit you are awful curious about iv, so you decided to ask iii about him, “Is he like you, then? A siren?”

iii, who is now sitting on the ground his legs outstretched in front of him with his hands keeping himself propped up behind him, his head tilted back like he was absorbing the fleeting embers of the sunlight in the sky, he let out a thoughtful hum, “no, he’s what I guess you could call a banshee. You know a wailing spirit who warns others of impending death or danger.”

The way iii talked about these things like it was the most obvious and simplest things in the world amazed you honestly. Though this new information about iv did shed some light on the actions and mannerisms of the mysterious man.

“Is that why he is so quiet?”

“Yeah, when he first got here, he lost control and ended up accidentally hurting Vessel pretty bad. He felt so guilty about it that he hid from us for a while choosing to exile himself. Luckily, Vessel quickly found him and brought him back to us, though he is more careful now mostly choosing to sign or make gestures to talk to us.”

“Oh” you respond not really sure how to react to the new information, you feel bad for iv. Accidentally hurting the people you care for because you lost control of a part of yourself was a scary thought. Though the more you hear about this Vessel person the more you really want to meet him.

Even though he got hurt, he understood it was an accident and actively sought out his friend to bring him back to where he belonged with the rest of them and it seemed like they all hold him in really high regard.

Plus, you do think it is a bit interesting that so far he is the only person who’ve met and or heard of that doesn’t have a number as a name. Speaking of people or creatures you’ve met or seen in this place that reminds you.

“Iii,” you pause not sure how to ask your next question, “Who or what was that thing that chased us during the fire?”

iii postures instantly goes stiff at your question, “Shh, don’t ask such questions here. Once we get to Vessel, he will be able to answer all your questions, I promise ok? You just have to wait until then.”

You nod your head, even though you know he can’t see you. iii slowly relaxes his posture allowing you to think about that creepy figure in the fire hoping you don’t run into them again anytime soon. Silently wondering if that was their god, Sleep, he keeps mentioning but if it is why would he be running away from it, none of this is making sense.

You look down at your hands seeing the skin on your fingers has begun to prune signaling that you should probably get out of the water now, no matter how much you want to stay in its warm comforting embrace. You sigh about to tell iii, when iv returns from the bushes purposefully keeping his gaze up to the sky and walking to the rock near the water where you had previously discarded your clothes.

He pulls black clothing out from behind his back and places it on the rock as well, before walking back over to where iii still sat sitting next to him and leaning his head on his shoulder causing iii to place his head on top of iv’s. The sight of them sitting together like that caused an ache to form in your heart, longing for the kind of love they have for each other. You really wished that feeling would stop appearing, it was really starting to bother you.

Pulling yourself out of the water, you grab the clothes that iv has brought for you to wear. You hold the outfit out in front of you, it is stunning. A flowing cascade of black fabric that seemed to shimmer with every movement. Putting on the outfit, you were pleasantly surprised to see how well it fit you, like it was specifically made for you. It draped effortlessly over your form.

The soak in the water did wonders for you, you feel 100 times better, still a little sore and tired but that was probably to be expected especially after everything you’ve been through. The outfit you now wore did make you feel better too, something about wearing a beautiful outfit instantly makes you feel more confident and powerful.

At the sound of you getting out of the water and getting dressed, both iii and iv stood waiting patiently for you to let them know that it is ok for them to turn around. Walking over to stand behind them you, shyly clear your throat. They take that as a sign that you're dressed and turn around to see you standing in the outfit iv brought you their eyes widen in surprise.

You let out a bashful giggle turning your gaze to iv you ask, “Where did you get this?”

But iv just smiles from behind his mask his eyes crinkling as he shrugs his shoulders in response.

You really want to get a proper answer from the shorter man but before you can say anything else your stomach growls loudly causing your body to flood with embarrassment. The sound of your stomach growling caused iii to laugh, throwing his head back as he loudly cackled. iv was at least a little nicer about the fact that he too was laughing at you, though the only sign that he was the little shake of his shoulders.

“Come on, Vessel will have fruits and other food for you to replenish yourself with.”

You nod, falling into step with III, about to turn and ask iv if he is coming too when, as if on cue, he joins you on the other side, walking alongside you. You can only hope that this time, you’ll make it to Vessel in one piece, without any more surprises or unexpected visitors.

#sleep token x reader #sleep token #ii x reader #iii x reader #iv x reader #cryptid #inhuman!sleeptokenxreader #vessel x reader #slow burn #sleep token fanfiction #An Offering

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scribbledghost · 27 days ago

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hiii I really like your inhuman vessels, it’s kinda different from what we usually see and I like it so much!!

I was wondering how the inhuman vessels would react if reader was depressed or was going through a tough time?

hope you have a good day <33

I'm glad you asked, because I really needed to write about this today.

Got kinda long, so I'll put it under a cut.

I like to think they all can tell what's wrong without you having to really explain. Telepathic connections have their perks, after all. So when your melancholy and ache and pain creeps into their own subconscious, they're all on high alert almost immediately.

Who comes to you first really depends on what they can sense you need right now. Vessel appears if you need a soft, gentle presence. II appears if you need someone to offer solutions and practical advice. III appears if you need someone lighthearted who can make you laugh. And IV appears if you need a distraction, someone to tell you stories or pull you up to dance with him.

Granted, that's just who finds you first. All four of them will eventually make their way to you.

Their primary objective is making sure you know how loved you are. How much you mean to them, how much better their existences are now that you're in them. I can see a lot of cuddling happening here, either in a big pile or just one of them holding you while the others stay close. If you cry during this, that's okay. They'll be more than happy to keep you close until you're ready.

If it's a low mood, they'll stay like this and bring you whatever you need until you feel better. If it's something more chronic like a depressive episode, they'll switch tactics just a little bit.

If it's long-lasting, they'll help you do anything you need help doing. Need a bath? They'll gladly carry you to the tub and help. Need food and water? They'll bring it. Need some sunshine? They'll gently help you outside for a quick walk around the garden.

I headcanon that Sleep found Vessel when he was at his lowest, so he's very well-versed on how you're feeling and how difficult it is to overcome. The others understand as well, for Sleep tends to gravitate towards those who are desperate, but Vessel knows depression a bit more intimately I think.

It's not an uncommon occurrence for one (or multiple) of them to sort of... siphon off your pain and take it upon themselves. Vessel is particularly prone to doing this. All of them know it's important to let you feel what you feel, but none of them can stand seeing you so upset. The least they can do is take some of your mental pain for themselves, if just to take some of the edge off for you.

Overall, their paramount concern is taking care of you during your tough spot. They won't leave you alone - at least, not if they can help it, and not for very long if they can't - and at least one vessel is always with you if you'll allow it. Granted, they still have standard worshipper duties to attend to in the name of Sleep, but they'll do everything they can to ensure it can be done with only 3 of them so one can stay with you. More than once, Vessel has filled in for III or IV during musical rituals, and all of them have taken over the others' tasks so they don't have to go anywhere.

Whatever you need, all you need to do is ask (either out loud or by projecting your want to one of them telepathically). They will all move heaven and earth to get you whatever you desire, if only to see you smile.

#im really glad you like the inhuman vessels though!#they're really fun to write for and worldbuild for #I hope you have a good day too anon 💖#sleep token x reader #vessel x reader #ii x reader #iii x reader #iv x reader #polyvessels #ghost scribbles

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ickyarson777 · 8 months ago

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Many Eyed Vessel Fic Thing???

This title will change later I promise.

Anyway! I did some thinking about This Post and I’ve decided I’m gonna go all out and write a fic about it. This prompt is something I think about all the time, so I was very excited to receive it to say the least :)

That being said, I have no idea how any of this is gonna play out. Right now I’m thinking kinda slow burn entities-to-lovers type of thing??

Here it is though!! I promise if you like it, I’ll do my best to keep up with writing, and please, let me know what ya’ll want!! I’m here to please ;)

Chapter 1, 2

Tried to stay as gn as possible, no mentions of y/n or names, readers is just called ‘human.’

Word count: 2,132

Content warning: Maybe a bit of dread, spooky horror type stuff. Bit of violence, not anything horrible at all.

I glance around me as I walk through the quiet woods. Rays of light filtered through the leaves of the trees behind gradually being drowned out by the darkness of the shadows ahead of me.

I had traveled to a new city, and decided to take some time to explore the smaller nearby towns. London was great, but it was nothing compared to the smaller communities that were just outside of the larger city. The town I was in was smaller in comparison, greatly so. A couple of small neighborhoods, a few streets of shops, convenience stores and restaurants. On one side however, there was a forest that wrapped around half of the town.

Anytime I was in a small town like this, I always took the time to learn the local rumors. Any scandal, or story going around. As I was making my rounds through this small town, I’d heard tell of the forest containing monsters, creatures. Things that were definitely not meant for the human eye. Angels, demons.. it had me absolutely captivated. I needed to know more. So of course, after a good night's rest, I packed a backpack of supplies, put on some thermal wear, considering it was a chilly, bleary fall day, and made sure I had food and water to last the day.

And then I drove out to the edge of the forest, and began walking.

Immediately the air turned colder. I had this sense that I definitely shouldn’t be here, that something definitely didn’t want me here. Multiple something’s at that. It was exhilarating.

I stepped farther in, glancing around slowly. The day was already dark, but the canopy of branches were so tightly woven above, the forest seemed to be bathed in midnight, though I knew it was barely a quarter past ten in the morning. Luckly, it wasn’t dark enough that I couldn’t see, so I continued on.

It wasn’t a quiet walk, branches and leaves snapped and crunched beneath my feet, and I could hear birds singing their sweet songs. For how terrifying the image of the dark forest was, it was still peaceful here, even if I did have a small feeling of dread brewing beneath my subconscious.

I walked further in, approaching a small stream, and stepped through. The water wasn’t deep, barely reaching the middle of my shins at the deepest. I could feel the temperature of the water through my boots, which I was very glad to be waterproof. Freezing cold, of course it would be in weather like this. I crossed to the other side of the stream, and whatever sense of peace I’d had before was ripped away from me.

For a moment, I hesitated, unsure if I should continue. I glanced around, trying to steel my nerves. ‘Calm down,’ I thought to myself. ‘You hear a couple rumors about monsters in the woods and you’re scared straight. What kind of explorer are you if you can’t walk through the woods by yourself..’

I shook off the fear and continued walking. I came to a clearing, where the trees opened to reveal the sky above, still overcast with dark clouds. I’d checked the weather before coming out here, there wasn’t supposed to be any rain, but looking at the sky now, I wasn’t so sure. I take a deep breath and keep walking.

At this point, I’m maybe half a mile in, knowing forest monsters, they’re sure to be a bit further in than that. I think aloud while walking, about anything and everything, home, my family, my friends. I’ve been studying abroad for a couple months now. As an anthropology student, traveling has been an incredible experience for me, but that didn’t mean I didn’t miss home.

Eventually, a couple miles into the woods, I begin singing to myself. Nothing particular, and everything at the same time, I sing nursery rhymes and lullabies, and find ways to rework the words, making myself laugh. I counted on like this for another half a mile before I realized suddenly that there’s no longer any sounds around me. The birds have gone quiet, and the wind has hushed entirely, the rustle of the leaves above me silent. I pause for a moment, glancing around me carefully.

Suddenly a horrible, piercing screech sounds and I’m filled with an absolutely overwhelming sense of terror. I make a split second decision and decide to walk in the direction of the horrible sound.

As I come closer to the location of the sound, I begin to notice there’s a slight path that’s been worn into the ground here, and I come up on a large rock formation. Not quite a cliff but not just a boulder either. It looks easy enough to scale, and I silently assume someone might’ve already been doing just that, seeing as the slight path seems to end here.

I take a breath, tighten the strap of my backpack, and begin to climb. Quickly enough, I reach the top of the formation and glance down below me. I stare in horror at the thing I see before me. The thing was at least eight feet tall, and covered in a thick black substance. It’s face could’ve been white, but it was now stained, smeared with whatever covered the rest of it. Its eyes, mouth and nose, or at least what I assumed it was, were nothing but dark empty sockets. It’s body was large and bulbous, segmented, almost like the thorax of an insect, and decorated in skulls, mechanical limbs jutting out at odd angles, and there were many of them, spindly, covered in grime and gore down to the jagged needle-like tips. It clutched a battle ax, dark and covered in rust and dirt.

“What the fuck,” I whisper into the air.

In a split second the thing whipped its head towards me, its empty eyes taking me in. I take a step backwards and almost fall from my perch on the rock, forgetting where I stood.

It begins stepping towards me on its multiple long spindly legs, slowly at first, but then it begins picking up speed. I watch it, safe from its grasp high above it on the rock, but then tense as it shoots one of its legs out into the rock, embedding itself there. I stare in horror as it begins to climb.

“Oh fuck, fuck,” I say out loud, panicking slightly.

I turn and begin descending back down the rock the way I’d come. At the last couple of feet, I let go, dropping to the ground just as the thing makes its way over the top. It doesn’t even bother climbing back down, just throwing itself off and continuing its pursuit, I watch, terrified for a moment before turning and running. I don’t even bother trying to remember which way I’d come from, running in zigzagging patterns, trying to throw off the monster. I can hear it, the metallic grinding and groaning of the half organic half machine thing that was hot on my trail.

I wasn’t even looking where I was going, vision slightly blurry, eyes stinging with sweat that fell into them occasionally. I hear the thing even closer to me now. I gasp out in shock as I hear a sharp whirring sound pass my ear, knowing it was right on top of me, trying to grab me. With every fiber of my being, I pushed myself to run faster, lungs burning and adrenaline coursing through my veins. And then BAM! I slam into something.

I glanced up quickly, thinking I had run into a tree, but realizing a tree would’ve hurt a bit more, and probably wouldn’t have grabbed my arm, and pulled me behind it.

The hands that grabbed my wrists left dark black stains on my skin. I pause for a moment, letting my vision clear. The figure now stood in front of me, facing away, towards the monster. He’s tall, much taller than me, wearing a black cloak and black pants. One shoulder of his cloak is covered by a stark white pauldron, lined with deep red and encrusted with rough gold ore at the curve of his shoulder. He raised a hand towards the monster.

Quietly, in a dark, melodic voice, the man breathed a few words in a language I didn’t recognize. before him, the monster stared, twitching and writhing in its place, swaying on its many legs. It took a gentle step forward, lowering itself and pressing its face into the palm of the man's hand, before turning, lurching forward and walking away from us.

I stand there, taking heavy, shaking breaths. The man doesn’t turn to face me until the monster is out of sight, and when he does, I gasp.

His body is completely covered in black paint, there are streaks running through it, lines of sweat showing pale skin underneath, his chest is broad, toned, but not overly muscled. His hands are large, the paint of his palms, light and mostly missing, though the lines of his hands are deeply stained with dark paint. There are silver rings on many of his fingers, the edge of them tarnished from the paint, like the chains on his chest, stretching across his chest, underneath the cloak is a leather strap, perhaps holding the pauldron in place. He was beautiful, by all accounts, but his face left my jaw slack. The paint covered him up to his upper jaw, if there was more paint, I couldn’t tell as the top half of his face was obscured by a mask. Stark white, a huge contrast to the black on his skin, beautiful and intricate deep crimson lines swirling and curling along the bottom edge of the mask, forming a crescent around his mouth. Six holes in the shape of eyes line the front, dark black and almost sleepy in shape, dark red lines, perfectly symmetrical in shape crossed over under and above the eyes or the mask, forming a sigil or sorts.

I notice my mouth is open, and snap it shut quickly before opening it again, trying to think of something to say. Luckily, the stranger beats me to being the first to speak as words fail me.

“Are you hurt?” He asks simply, voice soft, reverberating through me and sending a shiver down my spine.

Slowly, I shake my head, still staring in awe. “Uh.. what.. what was that?” I ask softly.

Rather than answering my question, the stranger turns, beaconing me to follow him. “The people of the town don’t venture into these woods, you’re not from here.” What he says should’ve been a question, but I can tell he’s stating it as a fact. “You seem well prepared, well traveled in your own right, but that’s no reason to wander into an unknown wood.”

I follow after him, unsure of where we’re going. ��I’m studying abroad,” I tell him, struggling slightly to keep up the pace with his long legs. “Heard some of the locals mention monsters in the woods, and I wanted to see for myself. Clearly… they weren’t lying.”

He glanced back at me over his shoulder. “What is it with humans always putting their noses where they can’t protect themselves?” He says it softly, almost in an endearing way.

‘Humans?’ I think to myself.

Before I realized it, we'd approached the stream I’d crossed when I first arrived.

“This is not a safe place for you,” the man says softly. “You are incredibly lucky to have escaped that creature with your life. Leave this place please, and do not return. There are… worse, more terrible things than that one in these woods.”

I turn to face him, ask him what else there is, but he’s gone. Not a single trace of his existence, no rustle or crunching of leaves underfoot, no thud of footsteps on the forest floor. For all I knew, I could’ve played the whole situation off as a psychotic episode. But I knew better. The dark handprints around my wrists and the blood that dripped from the small cut on my ear told me all the truth I needed.

I turn to walk to my car, opening my phone and pressing the call button. The phone rings for a moment before my mother picks up.

“Hello?” She says.

“Hey, Mom,” I say, opening the door and tossing my backpack into the back seat. “So you know how I said I was passing through this small town? I think I’ve changed my mind. I might spend a little while longer here. Something about it…” I mutter glancing into the trees, almost convincing myself that I can see him, blending into the dark shadows of the woods. “Something about it just captivates me.”

OK!! Short little thing to get the story started, let me know if you want more!! I whipped this out in like 20 minutes, and thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it.

#sleep token #sleep token iii #sleep token vessel #vessel #iii #ii #iv #sleep token ii #sleep token iv #inhuman!vessel #vessel x reader #sleep token vessel x reader #ooh scary monster #it was the chokehold monster in case y’all couldn’t tell 😼#ANyway

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mail-me-a-snail · 10 months ago

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sometimes i look at the line of characters that people on here have famously infantalized (characters that are also, "coincidentally", widely headcanoned as neurodivergent in some way) and i gotta wonder.

how do you get so far removed from canon that you forget that, considering the themes of their stories, these characters would ABSOLUTELY know what sex is.

#laios knows what sex is. hed be enthusiastic about trying new things with you #connor detroit become human is also a really. good example of this phenomenon #yeah hes a robot so thats already a bad start re: neurodivergency as thats #a pretty common trope that nd people are robotic or otherwise inhuman #but then. then people conveniently forgot he is a Trained investigator who would definitely #DEFINITELY. know what sex is #like hello???#like you can just say they dont Care about sex like its okay. its alrite to do that #ignore me im rambling it is almost 4 #but god. it irritates me so bad #when people deliberately forget characters are vessels of a storys theme #my post

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sleepanonymous · 10 months ago

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I just wanna say that watching Mr. Vessel Sleep Token the First lay down in the middle of The Summoning tonight at Red Rocks was the most relatable thing I’ve ever seen him do. The Vessel/Mother Token fued may be over. I haven't decided yet, gonna sleep on it 🫡

#sleep token #vessel sleep token #vessel #sleepanon rant #teeth of god tour #side note #euclid is ruined for me #but I mean that in the best way possible #I don't think I can ever listen to that song again with out ugly crying #And if I force myself to its gonna lose its magic #(yes I ugly cried once again)#(but this time I was caught off guard because I felt good the whole time)#(the waterworks came out of nowhere fr)#side side note #vessel screaming “do you remember me” is the most inhumane thing he's ever done to me #and maybe I shouldn't forgive him 🤔#I’m still gonna sleep on it

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amourtoken · 3 days ago

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What if I bring cryptid Vessel back huh

#My sleep token OGers ik ur still here #I miss u #Been trying to broaden my horizons lmao and bring back some oldies #Whatcha think???#Vessel #Inhuman vessel

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melit0n · 1 year ago

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What does Sleep, as in the deity, look like to you guys? Because as someone who's been around in the Sleep Token fandom for a while, I've seen a lot of different interpretations.

To me, Sleep doesn't really have a set, physical body outside of a person's (perhaps Vessel's) dreamscape. Afterall, why should something that dictates all the odd, horrifying, joyful and (sometimes) meaningful things that happen in your dreams be one thing? Sleep could be the shadow in the corner of your dark room you swear is moving, the tapping of rain as you're about to fall asleep, the creaking of the pipes inside your house/apartment as you slowly dose off at your desk, etc. Outside of a dreamscape; Sleep is only what you need it to be. Hence Its need for Vessel as Its mouthpiece.

However, in the dreamscape, I can see Sleep as a fish. Not a particularly alive looking one, per say, but the scattered remains of one. All bones, empty eye sockets (but are they truly empty?), rotting flesh and scales peeling off bit by bit etc. Specifically, a kind of deep-sea fish; like an angler fish, a sixgill shark or a Greenland shark. But! Along with its bones, Sleep has bioluminescent innards. Viceral that ebbs and flows in multi-colour fashion with each flick of Its tail.

The deep sea fish imagery mainly comes from the fact that the deep sea is almost completely unknown; many of the creatures down there are completely alien to us, like Sleep has supposedly become over the hundreds of thousands of years that It's existed. The deep sea, for the most part, is completely silent. Calm; the perfect place for a nap (if you can breath underwater of course).

It's the perfect habitat for the Unknown, odd and horrifying.

#just a bit of a ramble #I've had this thought for years so I finally thought I'd share it #I know it's completely out of the rink with ideas but I hope someone else sees it #also I swear to the dear God that someone made a comic/peice of art here in Tumblr with Sleep and Vessel as exactly this and I can't find i #I don't know if I'm going mad or not but I SWEAR someone had #if anyone knows or has seen something similar to that please let me know #because it's such an awesome artistic take and I got really excited since I thought the idea was just a me thing #also I just want to hear what other people think #looking at your artists with your funky wonderful brains #like I know Sleep could and would cause inhuman horrors beyond comprehension but Its just a neat little guy #terrifying #but neat #it's really late in the evening right now so I'm sorry if this is incomprehensible #I just want bossman to come visit me at this point #like dawg I've got a paper to finish and hand in tomorrow drag me into the drowsy abyss already #mel's rambles #sleep token #sleep token vessel #vessel #sleep (the deity)

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sidereon-spaceace · 1 year ago

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I've seen the trope of "hero gets a glimpse of The Simple Life that they desperately want and can no longer have because the villain is trying to tempt them to stop"

And while I do like it, I feel like subjecting Sid Sibyl to that is a little too cruel

#ramblings #tailend of the story when he's long since convinced himself that he can no longer have that #just to have someone dangle it in front of him. pull out all the stops to convince him that it's not out of reach- not yet #and oh you poor thing you've sacrificed so much. worked so hard and for so long... dont you deserve to be a little selfish for once?#like yeah sure I'll subject him to being a vessel to a terrible power that wants to make him into something inhuman and cold #but THIS is where I hesitate #i need an oc tag

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whereserpentswalk · 3 months ago

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Reblog to receive your transformation, look under the cut to find out what it feels like to transform.

Vampire: You can feel it, slowly changing you since you were first bitten by that creature. You felt stronger at first, not needing to eat, not needing to sleep. It was like the burdens of a human form were lifted from you. The only thing you needed was to drink blood, which isn't that hard to come by. Then the physical transformations began, your body becoming slenderer and more androgynous, until soon you barely are recognizable. One day you wake up and your eyes are pure black, slowly your mouth grows sharp teeth, and special joints and seams in your flesh that allow you to open it into a massive mess of fangs and teeth but close it back up into something humanoid if you want it to. As the last of your humanity goes away, your sex characteristics and body hair entirely disappears, leaving you feeling wonderfully smooth. Perhaps in the past this body would be disturbing to you, you barely look like yourself, but now, looking at yourself and feeling so much more confident, this just feels like you, like what you are meant to be.

Incorporeal: You've lost yourself. You can't feel anything. No skin, no blood, no organs. You can only really sense the vague nature of the room your spirit is inhabiting. If you want to move you just think of yourself as going to that location, and if you want to pick something up you just think of yourself as lifting it. Even your appearance is no more than a sort of hologram, able to be changed at but a thought. You feel strangely comfortable this way. Nothing can hurt you now. It takes a bit of time, you have to focus on how you look a bit to look in a way that feels really you, but it eventually feels way more like you then anything in your old body did. It's weird, your old form just felt like a vessel that you needed, but in leaving it you feel entirely free, like you just don't need that type of body anymore. You look at your old body, lying dead upon the floor, and you can't help but know that that just isn't you anymore.

Lycanthrope: It was slow harnessing the changes. The werewolf who bit you didn't tell you much when she passed on her curse. It's something you can work will, you slowly figured out how to harness small changes, modular yet more modular as time passes on. You can just give yourself the eyes, or ears, or teeth, or feet, if you need to by now. Decide exactly what is wolf and what is human. It's more normal not that you realize how fluid your body is, that every part is just a single state that part can be in and not it's permanent fate. You can choose how much of a wolf you are at any time and that's fine and normal now. And sometimes you like fully being a wolf, like how it feels to run on all fours, how it feels to taste meat freshly on your teeth, how it feels to howl at the moon. You also like being a full human at other times, especially now that that doesn't constrain you anymore. Most of the time you're just something else though. Most of the time you're just you, not wolf or human but something your own.

Cyborg: You can feel parts of your body being cut away. You don't know why but it doesn't bother you as much as you thought it would. Your legs being painlessly sliced off, those legs that hurt when you walked on them. You can feel your torso having it's organs slowly drained out of it, no more stomach pain as you have no more stomach, no more shortness of breath as your lungs become medical waste. Your fat and muscles and bone are cut from your body, leaving your body type null. A mask of sorts is closed over your skull as the skin of your face, a face you were once stuck with for your entire life, is finally taken away. And in your discarded body parts place new mechanical parts are added, and these parts are finally your own, you picked out the designs, you control exactly how they look, the art style that your new body will be drawn in, the form your form will be able to take. And if there's anything you dislike, it can always be replaced, you can't be trapped in your body anymore, and you can't be hurt by it now.

Melted: You can feel your new form, slowly writhing like the slimes you felt before did. You have no distinct parts, no bones, no limbs, no organs. All you have is the form. It feels weird, you see and feel so much differently now it can barely feel like seeing or feeling at all. It's like playing with goo in your hands, but you don't have hands anymore. Slowly but surely, you sculpt yourself a new appearance, allowing your body to be something to thrive in instead of just something to survive within. You can't control your color but everything else is up to you. It's like sculpting, even limbs and heads and eyes are all metaphors when it comes to this new universal substance that is your form. You're not sure how others will see you when you're something so strange, but you like what this means for yourself, at least for now.

Flight: Your arms have slowly been stretched out, each of your fingers longer than your entire arm once was on both hands, and this strange tight skin between them. Your body is strong in some places, but weirdly skinny in others, it all feels so different, so new. Your feet have been changed to work more like hands, now that your arms can't be used to grasp, and walking is no longer as much of a requirement for you. You feel weird, like everything is there, but it's hard to see how it all fits together. Still, now that you do get to fly it's wonderful, seeing the ground below you, seeing the sky above you, feeling so free while you're completely in the air, seeing how impressed everyone is looking at you doing that. Maybe it was worth it. Despite how much it takes getting used to you don't dislike how any of it feels, and despite what some people might think of it, it feels so nice to be able to just go through the air like that without anything restraining you anymore. You wouldn't go back at the very least.

Mind upload: You can't feel anything. But you can see, the image of what you'd expect a computer monitor to display take up the totality of your vision. You can't feel a mouse or keyboard or anything, but you can move the cursor as much as you once could move limbs. If you hadn't asked for this it would seem like the worst of punishments, but this was your desire. You can look at any website you want, and no longer do you have to worry about time, about food, about sleep. You can contact anyone online just as you once did, without any breaks. The mortal world is no longer your worry.

Limbs become longer: You know you won't be like the other giants; you'll be somewhat in-between, you're not sure if you are thankful of that fact or not. It's a lot to deal with either way. You can feel you skin and bone stretching oddly, your arms and legs doubling then tripling in their length. It hurts but you can think of all the ways you won't be human anymore. You won't fit into most spaces; you'll need certain accommodations. But you still want this despite everything that it implies. It feels strange when your torso changes, with your limbs it's just bone that's moving, but with this you can feel your organs extending and changing. Too late to change things now. You wonder how people will see you? Will they be scared? Maybe that's what you want from them now?

Pyromancy: You can feel the burning inside you now. Even when you don't focus on it in any way it's in you, your warmth, your blood always hot, the feeling with every breath that you could shoot out fire. Other people with powers need to learn how to extend them to be actually useful, not you, you had to learn how to keep yours under control. It just feels right, to be able to use fire, to feel the fire as part of your body whenever you pass by any. You find yourself fidgeting with it easily, letting the fire move alongside you, because it's just so natural. You'll light up a bit in your hands, or around your face, in the middle of conversation. It doesn't burn you anymore, it feels good, it feels better than almost anything else you've felt in your life to feel fire on your body now. A few people are afraid, but you try to keep yourself calm. Even so, it feels so good to let it burst out of you, to shoot balls of fire into the air, or breath it from your mouth, it's hard to go a long time without doing something like that. It's not just something you have but it's part of you, it's part of you that was always meant to be there perhaps.

Frog: You slowly feel yourself shrink down. It dawns on you that you're going to change a lot. But you've said your last goodbyes to your humanity either way. You can feel your hair and teeth falling out, your bones reshaping and getting smaller and more delicate. Your biology completely changing. It's a lot to get used to and it all happens within a few seconds. For a moment you're worried you'll lose your human mind, but it just doesn't happen, mentally, emotionally, you're entirely the same as you always were. But you don't have to worry about human things anymore. Frogs don't have to work jobs, or pay taxes, or pay rent, you're allowed to finally just be. When you choose to go naked, and walk on all fours, you don't even have to let on that you're human at all anymore. You can exist in peace as long as you exist and forgo the responsibility of human things unless you choose to want them.

Demon: You feel the last of your human blood get replaced with the blood of that creature. It hurts for a moment, but then you stop feeling such pain, you feel a tyle of prowess you haven't felt before. Your eyes glow, you can just feel that they glow now. Your human form begins to change, perfectly growing into your ideal body type and look, and everything feels so right. And then things go beyond just that human form. Horns grow from your head, and your teeth grow sharp, you can always feel them, even when you aren't paying attention, and it makes you feel so very cool. Your reproductive organs are replaced with a neck and head of a serpent, completely genderless, but more able to feel pleasure somehow. Wings grow on your back, and you flex them, feeling the strangeness and wonder of having new limbs and joints. You grow a scorpion like tail from the base of your spine, that equally feels so strange and wonderful and new to move. You can shapeshift back into any human form when you need to, you can even effect what people do and don't recognize as your old self, but this form, your truly demonic form, that's what truly feels like it's you.

Murder: you can kill now. No description needed.

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paige1722 · 15 days ago

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An Offering | ch. 1 |

Pairing: Sleep Token x Reader

Summary: Cryptid, inhuman beings have spent their whole lives in Eden serving their deity, Sleep. What happens when one day you show up and no one can figure out why Sleep has delivered you to them. Should you stay with them or will you do whatever it takes to find your way back home?

Warnings: mention of drowning, brief mentions of death. Slowburn. (Please let me know if I missed any tags.)

Word count: 3.6k

masterlist | Chapter 2 | Ch. 3 |

iii has his red hair and hands because I feel like we moved on from that look way too fast.

Chapter One:

Why am I so cold you think to yourself. You’re beyond freezing to the point of it feeling like it is burning your skin. This is unlike anything you have ever felt before, the cold seeping into your very soul. All your other senses are numbed by the constant feeling of pins and needles stabbing into your skin. Every passing second only intensifies the agony.

It’s impossible to focus on anything, your thoughts are clouded, your mind moving so slow not yet grasping the situation you have found yourself in. Why is it so hard for you to think right now, your lungs are burning aching for oxygen, you don’t think you’ll be able to hold your breath for much longer. Your lungs fighting for air, that’s not coming.

You are going to die, you think to yourself in one of the worst ways you can possibly imagine. The thought of drowning forces your eyes to shoot open in a panic. You are suspended, floating weightlessly just beneath the surface, your arms hanging in front of you limply swaying in the water. Using what little energy you have, you look around as best as you can at your surroundings, there’s a bright light coming from above you from what you can only assume is the surface. All you have to do is make it and you’ll be out of this cold unending dark abyss. Willing your body to do something anything to save your life you try to swim to the surface.

Nothing you do seems to make a difference. Your body refuses to obey, and the realization hits: this is it. Your final moments, trapped in some unknown waters, in a place you can't even remember how you ended up. You feel yourself surrendering, smiling through the agony as your lungs burning for air at least you won’t have to suffer for much longer. Your eyes struggle to stay open as you feel yourself let go, as a last effort to save yourself your body forces you to take in a deep breath causing the water to fill your lungs.

Through your distorted vision, you watch as a hand stained with red paint breaks through the surface of the water. The hand reaches down into the abyss seemingly searching for something before eventually, their long fingers wrap around your floating hand pulling you out of the darkness and into their awaiting hold. Whispers of an unknown language fills your head but you’re no longer scared, oddly you feel at peace.

You're dragged above the surface of the water as what or whoever saved you wraps their arms around you putting your back against their chest as you both fall to the ground their warmth surrounding you. Your head lolls back against their shoulder the side of your cheek making contact with some kind of hard surface covering their face. Due to the blurriness still clouding your vision, you can’t make out any details except for a red aura covering the person's head making it look almost like a bright halo. As you succumb to the darkness the last thought that lingers in your head is at least now you won’t die alone.

Trying to act quickly iii places his index and middle finger underneath your jaw trying to find a heartbeat, panic filling his body as he feels your pulse becoming slower. Your unconscious body coughs as it tries to expel the water from your lungs, doing anything it can to try and save itself. iii immediately tries to help force the water out, using the gift given to him by Sleep, the salt water leaves your lungs pooling on the ground beside you both.

Slow staggering breaths leave you but at least you're still breathing even if it seems strained and painful. Iii delicately wipes his hand across your face removing all the water, bodily fluid, and hair that was sticking to your skin before letting out a relieved sigh. He was worried that he wasn’t going to be able to make it in time to save you. The moment he felt you appeared in his water, he started running to his sanctuary at that instant wanting to see what Sleep was bestowing upon him.

Worry began to consume him the longer it took to reach you as he could feel the life slowly leaving you, he is so relieved that he was able to make it just in time to pull you from the abyss. He is the only one of Sleep’s creations that is able to survive in the water, maybe that’s why you appeared there because Sleep knew he would be able to feel your presence there and save you though he will admit it was cutting it close.

It probably wouldn’t be good for you to travel right now, even though he could easily carry you through the garden to a more suitable shelter but for now, he supposes this will have to do. iii carefully turns your body so you're sitting sideways in his lap, before sliding one arm underneath your knees and the other around your shoulders curling your unconscious body to his chest as he stands. In his small sanctuary that he uses to connect with Sleep, he set up a stone table in the front of the cave that was usually reserved for offerings though in this instance iii doesn’t think that Sleep will mind if he lets you rest on it for a bit.

Once you were carefully positioned on the cold stone, he stepped back, his gaze lingering on your features. Goosebumps covering your exposed skin. The icy chill of the depths had already begun to take its toll—your lips started to take on a bluish hue. It dawned on him that leaving you there in soaking wet clothes is not the wisest decision. Perhaps he should try to find something dry for you to wear.

He let out a hum trying to think of what would be suitable for you to wear. iii and the other vessels didn’t exactly have a lot of options readily available to them, so an old ceremonial garb they used to wear for rituals would have to suffice. Kneeling down to the underside of the stone table, carefully folded with care laid four black robes with runes of worship inscribed down the thick fabric. Grabbing one of them, he stood, staring at your unconscious form, bathed in the soft light streaming through the opening of the cave and the narrow cracks in the ceiling. The sunlight made you look ethereal, as if you were a vision from another world.

iii hoped the sunlight would help warm you up a bit before you got sick, he wasn’t sure that he or any of the other vessels of Sleep were equipped to help someone who was ill-being as they do not have to worry about such things thanks to the way Sleep created each of his vessels. He just hopes that your nap and the sun will heal all wounds and illnesses you might have acquired since you’ve arrived here.

As iii gazes at your shivering form, a sense of urgency grips him. He knows he has to get you out of your wet clothes, but he’s torn, not wanting to overstep any boundaries or make you uncomfortable. Yet, if he doesn’t act, the risk of you getting sick—or worse—looms overhead. Trying to maintain respect while still doing what’s necessary, he carefully peels off your soaked shirt, tossing it aside for later. Swiftly, he slips a robe over your head, covering you as gently as possible. He removes your shoes and socks-then, using the robe to shield your lower body, he begins to remove your pants, careful to preserve your dignity as he works.

Once you were in dry clothes, he grabs the pile of wet clothes he had previously discarded and placed them just outside the entrance of the cave on a rock so that hopefully the sun would dry them quicker for you to wear once again. Though it will probably take at least a day for your shoes to dry completely.

He walks back over to where you lay, sitting down in front of you resting his back against the table closing his eyes wanting to stay close to you in case something happens. The need to keep watch over you in your fragile state is at the forefront of his mind. Waiting for you to wake up iii hopes that you will have some answers for him about what Sleep’s purpose is for bringing you here to them.

He really wishes that Vessel was here, he was always good at understanding the purpose behind Sleep’s actions. There had to be a reason for you being here, nothing Sleep ever did, was meaningless. Just like how they all had a purpose for being there, created in their own specific ways that would be of the best use to Sleep and his plans, even if that meant they sometimes had to suffer because of it in the process. It wasn’t always easy being the way he was, constantly needing to come back to his sanctuary and submerge beneath the water just for the small amount of reprieve the feeling of the water gave him.

iii preferred not to dwell on how everything had unfolded, as it only left him with more questions than answers. Hopefully, when you wake up, you can help him understand your purpose here. If he hadn’t arrived when he did, there was a good chance you would have drowned- though some part of him knows that Sleep wouldn’t have allowed that to happen, maybe to save you Sleep would have made you like him. In Eden, being a siren wasn’t exactly easy, but he supposed there were some benefits to it. Without his connection to the water, he might never have sensed you flailing beneath the surface of the abyss. Maybe Sleep had sent you to him as a reward for all his hard work—but what about the others? They have been just as devoted, sometimes even more so. With a sigh, he decided to stop overthinking and worrying about it until he was able to talk with Vessel. He would wait until you woke up, hoping that you could offer some insight into what was really going on. —--—————————— Am I dead? you wonder. No, if I were dead, I don’t think I’d feel like this. Isn’t heaven supposed to be pain-free or something? Unless I’m in… no, it’s too cold here. Your head was pounding, every part of your body ached feeling heavy and numb at the same time, and with every labored breath you took feels, as if it’s tearing your throat open.

You open your eyes squinting in the dark trying to make out your surroundings with difficulty. The neverending throbbing of your head not helping you in the slightest. Looking out through the entrance of the cave or whatever it is you find yourself in, you notice it is a lot brighter outside than it should be considering that it is in the middle of the night. The light from the moon illuminated almost everything in the cave, an uneasy feeling forms in the pit of your stomach this place doesn’t feel right, unnatural almost.

As you slowly sit up on the cold stone you were lying on, groaning at the dull pain coursing throughout your body made even more apparent by the movement. Wondering quietly to yourself where the hell you ended up, not remembering much after waking up in freezing cold waters. You look down at yourself realizing you are not in the same clothes you were in earlier you grab the sleeves of the material rubbing your thumb over the soft fabric furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

“I didn't want you to get sick so I had to change you out of the wet clothes and that is all we had.” A voice from below where you sat said causing you to let out a small scream pushing yourself back as far as the table would let you go pressing your back against the moss-covered wall. The owner of the voice stood casting an ominous shadow over your cowering form.

The person, if you could even call them that, threw their red painted hands up in front of them trying to placate you.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe here.” said the man. Now in the moonlight, you could see him more clearly, his hair was blood red, a golden mask that looked like it was burnt or melting on the lower half of his face where his mouth would be. The mask he wears has the same symbol etched in the middle as the robes you now wear. His shirt was covered in swirling intricate designs paired with thick black pants.

Fear and adrenaline now coursing through your veins, your heart is pounding so hard you think this man in front of you can probably hear it and by the tilting of his head, you are led to believe that he most definitely can.

“Where am I? Who are you?” you croak out, your voice sounding hoarse each word feeling as if it was causing your throat to bleed. Everything about the situation you find yourself in overwhelming you immensely tears start brimming in your eyes waiting to fall.

iii takes a step back trying to put more distance between you both, hoping that it will make you less scared and allow you to calm down a little. He can practically taste the fear pouring off you in waves at this point, not liking the feeling as it was starting to make him nauseous.

“I am iii. Do you remember how you got here? I found you in there.” he says pointing towards the huge gaping hole of water that looks ten times more menacing in the dark with nothing but the moonlight illuminating it.

His question throws you off causing you to try and remember anything, how I got here? How did I get here? You try to think back to before waking up in the cold seemingly endless abyss in front of you. No matter how hard you tried you couldn’t think of anything, not your friends, family, or your job. Nothing about your life was coming to mind, it was like someone or something was blurring them out only the sense of hopelessness and sadness filled your mind.

Looking into the iii’s eyes you slowly shake your head as he lowers his hands letting them hang by his side. Again you ask him, “Where am I?”

He wished that he had water or something for you to drink to help soothe your aching throat, but at the moment the only option was the salt water from the abyss and he highly doubted that it would be of any help to you.

“We have come to call this place Eden.”

Your eyebrows raise in disbelief. Eden? As in the Garden of Eden from the Bible? Oh my god, you think to yourself, I’ve been kidnapped by some sort of cult, and they’re going to sacrifice me. You lean forward, burying your head in your hands. This is a nightmare, this isn’t real, it’s got to be a joke. You have no idea where you are or how you ended up here almost drowning. Looking at the man standing before you wearing the strange mask, painted with unsettling runes, insisting that you’re in the Garden of Eden, if this is a joke it’s an elaborate, one you’ll give it that. Maybe if you play along, you can figure out a way to escape, find help, or at the very least make sense of this twisted situation.

Pulling your head from your hands you make eye contact with the man, you now know as iii, who is already staring at you curiously from where he still stands a few steps away from the stone table.

“Okay.” you say slowly, “do you by any chance know how I can get back home from here?”

iii stands up straight at your question, he has never once thought about leaving this place. Why would he, Sleep created it for him and the others to stay and devote themselves wholly to Him. And if Sleep brought you here, then this must be where you are meant to be. You are probably just confused and don’t realize it yet. He just needs to take you to Vessel and explain things to him and then Vessel can help figure this all out. Now with a plan in mind, iii slowly walks closer to you and extends his hand out to you.

“Come with me and we can figure this all out together.”

You glance from his outstretched hand to his eyes trying to see any form of danger or deception but finding nothing but a pleading hopeful expression. You slowly place your hand in his as he helps you down off the stone table leading you towards the entrance to the cave.

Once you both reach the opening of the cave, he lets go of your hand pointing towards the rock where your now dry clothes sit.

He turns to look down at you, “You can get changed back into your clothes if you want. Wait here don’t move until I come back.” he says before jogging off into the trees before you can say anything in return.

You cautiously walk over to your clothes, picking up your pants you put them back on feeling better now that you are not as exposed. Picking up your shirt, you pause the shirt you were wearing was thin not the best option for the hike you were probably about to have to take through this garden. Plus the robe you wore was warm and one of the softest pieces of clothing you think you’ve ever worn. So, you decide to just keep the robe on instead hoping iii wouldn’t mind your decision.

Your socks have long since dried but you cannot say the same for your shoes. At this point you think they might be ruined forever, picking one up and squeezing it in your hold water pours out of your shoes, letting out a defeated sigh you toss the shoe back to the ground opting instead to just put your socks on as it was better than nothing you supposed.

You look in the direction iii went this could be my only chance you think to yourself, I could make a run for it. The pounding of your head and the ache in your limbs stops you, no I am in no shape to be running away right now. Plus, I don’t think I would be able to make it very far before he gets back, he knows this area way better than I do right now. And if he sees that I tried to run away it might make things worse for me in the long run, so it is probably better to try and gain his trust and think of a better plan.

Sitting back on the large rock you finally have a chance to catch your breath and look around properly at your environment. This place is beautiful you think to yourself, the plant life here giving off a phosphorescence glow in the moonlight. The flowers here are absolutely breathtaking, with soothing shades of pink and red everywhere you can see. In the back of your mind you actually began to wonder if this place was in fact Eden, the plants and environment was something you have never seen before.

The sound of footsteps breaks you out of your thoughts, looking to find the source of the sounds you see iii emerging from the bushes carefully holding a large leaf cupped in his hands. Cautious of his movements he stops in front of you extending the leaf out towards you.

“Drink this. You’ll feel better.”

You wearily eye the leaf before you that is filled with a light pink translucent liquid, looking back up to iii suspicion evident on your face. iii realizing that you are not fully trusting of him yet, brings the leaf up to his mouth taking a small sip to show you that it is okay to drink. Once done with his sip he brings the leaf back in front of you extending it closer to your face. You wait looking at him for any signs of the liquid affecting him and seeing none you slowly lean forward bringing your lips to the leaf and letting him pour the contents into your mouth.

The liquid was sweet and refreshing, the feeling of the cool liquid running down your throat helped ease the burning immensely. The throbbing of your head and ache in your body slowly started to dissipate the more you drank. Once you drank the last little bit, iii pulled the leaf away before tossing it to the side.

“Do you feel better?” He asked curiously tilting his head to the side waiting for your response.

Clearing your throat, “Yes, thank you.” Your voice sounded like your own now, no longer sounding strained or hurting with every word you spoke. You raised your hand up to your throat rubbing it confused wondering what the mysterious liquid you just consumed was.

Feeling pleased with himself that the sap actually worked in making you feel better, iii clapped his hands together in front of him in satisfaction. “We should get going and find Vessel before the effects wear off. He will know how to help you.”

You stand up next to iii nodding your head following his lead deeper into the garden. You are just hoping that this Vessel person will know how to help you get out of here and go back home. This place was really starting to mess with your head.

#sleep token x reader #sleep token #ii x reader #iii x reader #iv x reader #cryptid #inhuman!sleeptokenxreader #vessel x reader #slow burn #An Offering

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scribbledghost · 1 month ago

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okay one more ask then I Must Sleep

#I've gotten like 10 requests in the last couple of hours lol #please feel free to keep em coming though! I love being able to flesh out this world I've got going with the inhuman vessels :)#I promise I'll get to the ones I've got!! they're all very good!! I just gotta go to bed at some point

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sleepingdiaryzzz · 4 months ago

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so yandere young justice (platonic if possible if not then normal yandere will do) x reader with very strong psycick powers and has to keep their emotions in check but to do so they act cold and thus treets and thinks of the team as coworkers like the ones that you do not like, (cuz reader is only on the team so the JL wont constantly bother them) now I want the team to think reader is a piece of shit in the start but then they witness reader showing kindness to a kid controled genlte kindness, now young justice will think why do they not get this kindness why does reader hate us why why WHY, and thus an obbsession would form and eventually delousion with the memory of reader helping the kid being twisted into reader helping them showing that gentle kindness that they oh so wish to have.

(That became a ramble but I think there Are 3 patos we can go for why the JL bothers reader here, A the JL Are becoming yandere for reader, B reader is so powerful that they could easily pull mountains out off the ground, rip giant ships out of space or rip it spart in space (this reader is very inspired by star killer from starwars) or option C its a combo of the 2 previously mentioned.)

Yandere young Justice x reader

The day you joined Young Justice was a day that would forever be etched into their minds, though not for reasons anyone could have anticipated. You stood before them with an expression so blank and emotionless it felt like you were looking through them, not at them, as though they were mere shadows rather than people. Your tone, flat and detached, set the stage for what would come to define your presence among them.

“I’m not here to be your friend,” you said, voice calm but cutting, each word sharp enough to slice through the fragile threads of camaraderie they’d hoped to extend. “I didn’t choose to be here, and I don’t want to be here. This is strictly business.”

The room had fallen into a stunned silence, the team exchanging glances filled with confusion, irritation, and a faint flicker of disbelief. Wally, never one to keep his opinions to himself, had scoffed loudly and leaned back in his chair, the movement exaggerated as though he needed everyone to see just how unimpressed he was.

“Well, that’s one way to introduce yourself,” he said with a roll of his eyes so dramatic it could’ve been mistaken for an acrobatic stunt.

Artemis, who was never far behind when it came to expressing her disdain, crossed her arms and gave you a once-over that screamed skepticism. “Let me guess,” she said with a sneer. “You’re one of those people who thinks teamwork is for suckers, right?”

You didn’t flinch. You didn’t react at all. Instead, you regarded her with the same detached indifference you seemed to have for everything around you. “I’m here to complete missions,” you said simply. “Whether you like me or not doesn’t matter. Just stay out of my way.”

If you had thrown a punch, it would’ve landed softer than your words. The tension in the room was palpable, thick enough to choke on, and though no one said it outright, the unspoken consensus was clear: they didn’t like you, and they didn’t trust you.

But that suited you just fine.

From the very beginning, you were an enigma wrapped in steel.

Mission after mission, you fulfilled your role with precision and efficiency that bordered on inhuman. Where others might falter or hesitate, you moved with unwavering confidence, your psychic abilities tearing through obstacles like they were made of paper. You were power personified, a force of nature contained within a vessel that seemed utterly devoid of humanity.

It wasn’t that you were incompetent—far from it. Your skills on the battlefield were unmatched, and your ability to assess a situation with cold, calculating precision often meant the difference between success and failure. But outside the chaos of combat, you were a ghost. You spoke only when absolutely necessary, offering clipped, impersonal responses that left no room for connection or understanding.

It didn’t take long for the resentment to set in.

“Do you ever think about anyone but yourself?” Robin had snapped one evening after a particularly grueling mission, his voice sharp enough to cut glass. His mask couldn’t quite hide the anger burning in his eyes as he stepped closer, his frustration practically radiating off him in waves.

You had barely spared him a glance, your tone as indifferent as ever. “I did what needed to be done,” you said simply, as though the conversation bored you.

“Yeah, and you ignored the rest of us while you did it!” Wally interjected, his voice rising in pitch as his frustration spilled over. “It’s like you don’t even care if we live or die, as long as the mission gets done!”

For a brief moment, your gaze flicked between the two of them, your expression unreadable. Then, with a shrug that spoke volumes about how little their opinions mattered to you, you turned and began walking away. “You’re still alive, aren’t you?”

Your words left them seething, but they didn’t follow. They couldn’t.

Because deep down, they knew they wouldn’t get through to you.

In truth, their accusations weren’t entirely wrong. You didn’t care—not about their opinions, their feelings, or their endless attempts to drag you into conversations that didn’t concern you. You didn’t care because caring was dangerous.

Your power wasn’t just a gift; it was a burden, a constant weight pressing down on you with an intensity that would’ve crushed anyone weaker. Every emotion, every flicker of feeling, threatened to unravel the fragile control you’d built over the years. A single moment of anger could rip a building from its foundation, a fleeting surge of fear could crush the air from someone’s lungs, and a whisper of sorrow could unleash a psychic storm capable of leveling a city.

So you didn’t allow yourself to feel.

You buried your emotions beneath layers of apathy and detachment, locking them away where they couldn’t hurt anyone. It was easier that way. Safer.

But the team didn’t understand. They couldn’t.

And so, they labeled you as cold, unfeeling, and selfish.

You didn’t correct them.

Everything changed during the mission in Qurac.

The objective had been straightforward: neutralize the alien technology that had been manipulating a local village into violent hostility. The team worked as a unit, moving through the conflict with practiced efficiency, their movements honed by months of training and experience.

You stayed on the outskirts, your psychic energy swirling around you in a tangible aura of power that seemed almost alive. You tore through the enemy with ease, dismantling their defenses like a child breaking apart toys.

But then, amid the chaos, you found him.

A boy, no older than five, huddled beneath a crumbling pile of rubble. His body shook with silent sobs, his tiny hands clutching a broken toy as though it were the only thing anchoring him to the world.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you hesitated.

Slowly, you knelt before him, your movements deliberate and measured, as though afraid any sudden motion might scare him further. “It’s okay,” you said softly, your voice a gentle whisper that barely carried over the noise around you. “You’re safe now.”

The boy looked up at you with wide, tear-filled eyes, his small frame trembling as he clung to the remnants of his shattered world. Carefully, you extended a hand, your psychic energy weaving around him in a protective cocoon that shielded him from the chaos.

“I won’t hurt you,” you promised, your tone softer than anyone had ever heard it.

The boy hesitated for only a moment before reaching for you, his tiny fingers wrapping around yours with a trust that made something in your chest tighten. As you lifted him into your arms, your energy wrapped around him like a blanket, cradling him with a tenderness that felt foreign yet instinctive.

“It’s going to be alright,” you murmured, holding him close.

You didn’t notice the team watching.

They couldn’t stop thinking about it.

The image of you holding that boy, your voice filled with a kindness they’d never heard before, played over and over in their minds like a loop they couldn’t escape. It was so unlike the version of you they thought they knew, so completely at odds with the cold, detached figure who treated them like insignificant coworkers.

For Wally, it became an obsession. He replayed the memory in his mind constantly, dissecting every word, every gesture, every flicker of emotion. He wanted—no, needed—to see that side of you again. But this time, he wanted it for himself.

M’gann’s thoughts took a different path, though no less consuming. She convinced herself that the kindness you’d shown wasn’t an anomaly but a glimpse of your true self, buried beneath layers of pain and fear. “You do care,” she whispered to herself, clinging to the thought as though it were a lifeline. “You just don’t know how to show it.”

Even Robin, the logical and analytical one, found himself unraveling. He began watching you more closely, searching for cracks in the facade you’d built around yourself, desperate for another glimpse of the humanity he now believed was hidden beneath.

They all wanted the same thing: you.

And as their obsession grew, so too did their desperation.

(A/n: it's lacking smth idk what but I tried making it platonic but I think I went overboard and kind made it into romantic??? Please Tell me if I did and be honest 🙏🙏)

––TAGLIST!

@maicenitas

#😺– request #yandere dc #yandere connor #yandere artemis #yandere robin #yandere batboys #robin x reader #yandere Robin x reader #young justice x reader #yandere young justice x reader #yandere young justice #yandere yj x reader #yandere yj #yj x reader #yandere justice league x reader #yandere justice league #yandere jl x reader #yandere jl

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inkykeiji · 11 months ago

Text

you make a mess of me

character: alastor

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, fem!reader, blood + blood eating, periods, dry humping, biting (hard enough to break the skin), toxic relationship, noncon, possessiveness + entitled behaviour, pet/master dynamic, unintentional overstimulation + multiple orgasms, unrealistic amount of period blood, slashing/cutting the skin, alastor is getting off on the pain he’s inflicting on you

notes: this fic is extremely dead dove and involves alastor eating your period blood among other things. it gets gross; please read the warnings and stay safe! | title credit: lose control by teddy swims

words: 3.8k

The first day of your period is always, by far, the worst.

Because the first day of your period is the heaviest, the bloodiest, and, according to Alastor, the tastiest.

Which translates to: Alastor spending the entirety of the first day with his head buried between your legs, hungrily slurping blood from the most intimate part of your body, large claws curled around your hips and pinning you to the mattress, rendering you completely helpless beneath his grasp—defenceless against his vicious tongue, trapped at the mercy of his insatiable addiction.

You’ve lost track of time at this point, lost count of how many times he’s unintentionally made you cum, lost consciousness more than once, elusive and slipping from between your fingers, an intangible mist that you can’t seem to keep a solid grip on—something that melts in the heat of your palms as you squeeze too hard, too desperately.

But that promise of pleasure always seems to draw you back into the light of wakefulness, presses gasps of air into your lungs and shocks your mind from it’s muddled fog.

It’s building once more, a dense heat roiling low and slow in the pit of your stomach as it furls in on itself in an almost lazy manner—a ball of fire that grows hotter and heavier, pulses larger and larger as it expands, flares with every swipe of his nose against your swollen clit, singeing surrounding organs, consuming bordering tissues, boiling the blood in nearby tangles of vessels—until it stops, dims, dies once more, withering away to simmering little embers, yearning to catch flame all over again.

His unintentional edging eats away at your tattered sanity, renders you delirious for release, little fingers tangling in his bangs and yanking, a pitiful attempt to grind his face into your cunt, to catch your slick little nub on the tip of his nose.

The laps of his tongue, once soft as velvet, have turned rough against your licked-raw cunt, every drag of the wet muscle along your slit more painful than the last, sending tiny spikes searing through your gut.

It hurts, but it doesn’t stop you from being a greedy little thing, craving another orgasm, for that sweet, sweet relief that rushes through your exhausted body, that releases the tension building in your muscles, each graze against your clit coiling fibres tighter and tighter until your entire body has gone rigid, aching for reprieve.

For what it’s worth, Alastor doesn’t really seem to care—if anything, he encourages it, the hands on your hips aiding in your movements as your pelvis rolls up, the motion pushing another rush of warm blood from your hole. His tongue wiggles further inside of you, curls into a hook in response, siphoning the substance from your core into his throat with keen little growls exhaled out his nose.

It turns him into something primal—past animalistic, past inhuman, something ineffably sinister, all of his senses sharply honed on his singular task, antlers sprouting branches the longer he eats from you, the worse the pain grows.

He eats your blood like a starving man, with such vigour you’d think he’s never tasted something so delicious, obscenely drinking from the center your body—a delirious attempt to drain you of your essence, dangerous teeth just barely sealed behind puckering lips and an avid, twisting tongue.

It sounds disgusting, the crude smacks of his lips and working of his tongue echoing throughout his bedroom in thick squelches, his chin and his cheeks and his mouth drenched in your combined fluids—blood and spit, hurt and hunger.

It’s ritualistic in a sense, the way his tongue sprawls, swirls into your body, cups, and then darts back, scooping blood and tissue down his throat before forming a point, the tip circling the dips and contours of your cunt, sure to clean any remnants his messy eating might’ve left, before repeating the cycle over again.

Anguish turns stifling as he smothers himself with your core, time gone syrupy as it drips by dense glops, unhurried and unavailing. His tongue feels coarse against your once silky skin, now abraded by his incessant feeding, his methodical motions having caused tiny fissures to sprout along your hole.

Any faint flickers of pleasure have been completely eradicated now, morphed into torrid cinders that scorch your skin, pitchy wails scratching at your chest.

Something suspiciously similar to stop! shatters in your throat, your fingers burrowing further into his hair, knuckles rooted against his scalp right next to the base of his antlers and pulling.

He growls against you, the sound vibrating deep within your cunt, little tremors that snuggle into your flesh like worming maggots, a moan prying past your lips. A large palm flattens between your hip bones and presses down firmly, eliciting a squeak from your chest as it tries to milk your uterus from the inside out, desperate for more blood.

Another sound of frustration echoes behind his sternum, the fingers curled around your hip flexing, his talons further puncturing your flesh.

It isn’t enough for him.

Because, really, when has it ever been? When will it ever be? Your Owner has always been selfish when it comes to his precious pet.

There are already tears leaking from the corners of your eyes, streaming down over your temples in shimmering little trails. Droplets of salt glitter, suspended in spiky lashes, as your eyes flutter, blinking rapidly to clear your bleary vision and dislodging more water in the process.

Wordlessly, his head lifts from the apex of your thighs, elbows dimpling the mattress as he uses them to hoist his torso up, nosing along the junction of your hip with one deep inhale and letting the scent of fresh blood, trickling from the tiny piercings his claws have left, lead him.

His tongue, pigmented a dark crimson, unfurls from his mouth to flatten against your flesh, bathing over the little wounds in slow, deliberate laves. But that isn’t enough, either, a starving snarl ripping from his chest as he repeats the action, this time dragging his lips along, too, using them to encourage another bout of blood from the cuts as he sucks, hard.

It’s so strong, so forceful it has tiny tangles of vessels snapping beneath the skin, spilling enticingly into the surrounding tissues. A cry rips from your throat, back bowing off the bed as a bruise rapidly develops under his mouth, yet another mark he stains into you.

But staking such weak, insufficient claims isn’t what he’s here for today.

Something dark rumbles in his chest, the type of greed that’s borne in his core and nurtured by obsession, that rattles his ribs as it aches to escape, to consume more and more and more.

It’s tormented by the blood trapped below the barrier, ichor that teases him, taunts him, tests him—and, well, that’s just not fair, is it? How dare your body do such a cruel thing to its keeper; how dare your body withhold something that belongs to him.

Sharp teeth sink into supple flesh with zero resistance and scrape, effortlessly removing the first layer of skin and freeing the blood pooling beneath it. His avid tongue instantly sops up the substance, smoothing over the wound and pressing down powerfully, procuring another torrent of crimson.

But his rapacity still remains unfulfilled—if anything, it only grows in its appetency, that splash of blood serving as nothing more than a canapé.

He needs something deeper.

With another slow, vast sniff, he trails the tip of his nose along the expanse of your body, hunting for something thick and pulsing and allowing instinct to guide him, ears pricked and tuned into the frequency of a steady, strong pounding—and he finds it just above your belly button.

Stopping, he licks the area once—a long, broad stroke of his tongue, gliding across your skin and leaving a viscid smear of saliva in its wake.

Then a claw is puncturing your skin, slicing across your stomach in a controlled line, scarlet immediately seeping from the laceration, the tip of his talon missing your aorta by a hair.

It burns, a yelp sticking in your throat, tangling on a sob as you cough around it, spine arching instinctively. Cooling tingles skitter across the new incision as he breathes out a single puff of air, admiring his handiwork, before his mouth latches over it.

“Alastor!” you sob out, fingers curling against his shoulders and tugging, his name a garbled mess on your tongue. “What are you doing!”

“Hold fucking still,” he growls into the fresh injury. “Or I will rip your aorta out with my teeth.”

You know he won’t, know he values you far too much to kill you—his precious pet, his perfect little plaything, his prized possession—but that doesn’t mean that he won’t bring you alarmingly close to death—again.

Even still, and as fun as that is, he’ll never fully go through with it.

Because you’re so fucking obedient—he’s never found someone so dedicated, so devoted, so fucking desperate to please him, to go above and beyond and make him proud, all without a contract.

And he’s never giving that up.

Besides, he’s grown quite fond of you.

Predictably, you obey his order the instant it leaves his lips—never a single wisp of defiance drifting through your murky brain—squirming calmed, even as pangs quiver through your body.

He’s still for another moment or two, letting that delicious anticipation build, before he dives back into feeding, digs his tongue into the wound and tears it wider, another gush of warm blood rushing to fill the new gaping.

Another sound of pain cracks through his bedroom, jagged and crisp, and he nearly whines into your stomach, the wriggling of his tongue turned vicious.

It burrows into the wound, tip hooked as it plunges through the sticky substance, writhes under slippery tissues and broken capillaries in it’s quest for more, the rough voraciousness of it all sending blistering spears shooting through your stomach.

You’re well past the point of sobbing now, unintelligible pleads spilling past your lips soaked with spit, garbled and howled, but your nails scrape at his scalp, fingers tugging a little on his antlers, a moan vibrating against your flesh as his hands wrap around your hips again, holding you still.

He feeds on the stomach wound until the blood ceases to flow freely, until it requires too much effort on his part, blood working hard to begin congealing the gash only to be split open by his siphoning, over and over and over again.

Only then does he continue his exploration, scouring your body, nose curving over your ribs and outlining your breasts as claws slit superficial little slashes in your flesh, tongue swiping over them in experimentation, until finally he finds another heavy throbbing, right above your collarbone.

His breath, pushed from his lips in harsh, fast little pants of hunger, is infused with your blood, the stench of bitter copper stinging your nostrils as it wafts across your skin. It collects in damp little droplets against your neck, his tongue once again unfolding from its cavern to press, hard and flat and wide, against your jugular.

There’s no licking this time, no slow haul of the slick muscle to glaze the canvas before the inevitable incision, just his tongue held smooth and still pinned over the vein, feeling the steady rush of blood. Saliva drools steadily from the corners of his mouth, drizzling onto your chest in thick glass cords, tinted pale pink.

A shiver scampers up your spine as his irregular huffs ghost over your wet skin, chills erupting across your flesh. For a singular instant, everything is still, stagnant—your breath and his teeth and those wandering claws, the only constant being the pulsating thrum of your blood beneath his tongue—before his fingers are moving again, one palm curling around your neck to hold you still as a keen talon slices into your flesh once more.

A scream curdles in your throat, stifled by the hand still collaring your neck, his mouth latching over the wound to lap at the blood. Searing pain radiates from the site, shooting along your jaw and shoulder, and your spine arches off the mattress, struggling beneath his body.

“Stop, stop, stop,” you’re sobbing out, the plead spilling from your lips in a continuous sticky stream, letters tangled in threads of spit. “Please, Al—Master, please!”

Thunder rumbles up his throat and spills into the wound his tongue is prying open—a warning, or a denial, you can’t be sure—as his hips keep you pinned to the bed, his thighs spreading yours wide, his knees sinking into the mattress.

You’re trapped under him, helpless and vulnerable to his vicious attack as his lips pucker and his tongue wiggles and his teeth scrape, collecting you beneath their edges. The agony is excruciating as he devours you, as you thrash and cry and tremble pathetically, your efforts entirely in vain and failing to deter him at all, your ceaseless struggling barely a hitch in his routine.

“Please, please, please,” your chanting, bloated tears weighting your lashes, lids fighting to stay open. “Please, Sir, it—it—Stop!”

A roar ruptures in his throat, rough and loud, and he yanks himself away from his meal, raising his head to glare at you.

“Have you forgotten your purpose, pet?” he spits, flecks of your blood splattering across your cheeks, a smatter of crimson freckles. “Hmm?”

A large hand twines around your jaw and squeezes, hard enough that your cheeks hollow and your mouth puckers. His claws dig into your face as he forces you to look at him, his nose brushing your own.

“Does Master need to make you write it out a hundred times, again?”

“No,” you weep, head trembling in a poor imitation of a shake, still locked in place by his bruising grip.

“Then what is it? Why do you exist?”

“To serve you.”

“How?”

“In—In any way you want me to, Master.”

“Exactly,” he purrs, but the word is razored, teetering on the edge of vitriolic. “So be a useful little pet, like you’re supposed to, and let Master take what he owns, what he’s owed.”

And so, you do.

Because you’re nothing if not faithfully, blindingly obedient to your owner.

His grip relaxes, and your jaw raises, neck bowing off the sheets, offering itself to him unabashedly—your body, your blood.

Something nefarious spreads across his face, stretched smile curling at the edges as it reaches his eyes, a malicious little melody playing on the back of his tongue.

He takes a moment to admire your sheer obedience, your willing and unwavering faith him him, a claw tracing the newest injury, leaving behind a shallow outline in your flesh.

A whimper falls from your lips, but you don’t dare to look away from him, even as the tears lacquering your eyes finally overflow again, streaming down the sides of your head to collect in your hairline.

“Good girl,” he says, and although his voice is soft, the compliment is sharp—mean, mocking, hardened by a layer of patronization.

“Th-Thank you, Sir.”

And then he’s plunging his tongue back in, mouth sealing over the wound tightly, another shrill squeal clawing at your throat. Yet despite the white-hot pain it inspires, his saliva stinging the new contour, you do your best to hold still, to be good, body quivering with the immense effort.

“Christ,” he mutters, the word muddled with blood as he rubs his mouth into the cut. “Your suffering is so fucking delicious.”

His statement is so sick, tinged with a vile sort of pleasure that churns your stomach, acidic bile collecting on the back of your tongue, the revolt so overwhelming that you almost don’t feel it, twitching against your hip as it fills with blood, hot and hard and straining as his pelvis beings to shift, rutting in irregular little motions.

For a moment, you can barely believe what’s happening, mind numb with terror and shock. For a moment, your mind refuses to believe what’s happening, scrambling to scrape together some sort of patchwork excuse for this behaviour—maybe he was just moving to get more comfortable; maybe it meant nothing at all—but the rutting fails to cease, uneven and unskilled, a moan shuddering his breathing, and your body freezes beneath him.

If he notices, he doesn’t seem to care, the rocking of his hips never slowing, another muffled sound of pleasure soaking into your skin.

They’re sweltering against your neck, those little noises of ecstasy, every soft moan and cracked whine and hoarse grunt huffed out damp and humid, beading in little dewdrops on your marred skin.

“M-Master,” you gasp before you can stop yourself, wiggling a little beneath him to confirm your suspicions and whimpering when his cock throbs in response. “You—You’re—It’s—”

“What?” he pulls back slightly, chest rising and falling against your own with ragged little breaths. Something smug plays with the corners of his smile, twinkles of sadism shining bright in his eyes.

He’s going to make you say it.

Your gaze flees his own—it’s too intense, eyes watering with a fresh bout of tears, pins of embarrassment pricking your cheeks. “It’s—”

“Look at me when you’re talking to me.”

Immediately, your stare snaps back to his, wide and submissive.

“It’s hard,” you force words from your tongue, the admission fading to a shameful whisper, face twisting in a wince as if the letters slashed your tongue.

“What is?”

“Master—” you flounder, head shaking a little.

“Go on,” he urges, grinding his hips into yours, slow and purposeful. “Tell me. You’re a big girl.”

“Your cock,” you nearly whine, eyes squeezing shut, fat tears leaking from the seams. “Your cock is hard.”

“It’s your fault, you know,” he murmurs, tongue rolling over your cheek thoughtfully, leaving watery streaks of blood smeared in its wake, mopping up the salt and swallowing it down, growling a little. “Crying out in pain like that.”

“Alastor,” you sob out, head shaking in messy little motions. “I don’t—I’m not—”

“It’s quite cute, the way you’re trying to act as if you don’t love this,” he muses airily, another gust of tangy metal nipping your nose as it wafts across your face, his forehead resting against your own.

Inhaling deep and measured, his ribs expand against yours, sharp bones digging into soft flesh, a gentle tremor coursing through his form as he nestles his face into your own, noses bumping together.

“You can’t fool me, pet. I know you too well.”

His thigh hitches higher, wedged tightly between your legs, shoved up against your cunt, the abrupt action eliciting a gasp, your eyes snapping open to search his own.

“I can smell your arousal, silly,” he says, voice low and smooth, nose tracing along your soiled cheek until his lips are at your ear. “In fact, it’s so strong that it’s overwhelming your blood.” A chuckle reverberates along the cartilage. “I know my pet is a nasty little girl.”

Barbs of humiliation flush through your body, fiery and stabbing through your veins, and he laughs again, a dark and wicked strain that vibrates from his chest into yours.

“Now,” he begins, the word slimy against your ear. “You’re going to be a good little girl for me and let your Master finish his meal.”

It isn’t a question, nor is it a request—it’s an order, and it’s an order he knows you’re desperate to obey.

Because, really, you live for him now, don’t you? Live to please him, to serve him, to make him proud. Because you’re nothing without him now, aren’t you? All of your self-worth wrapped up in your Owner, all of your purpose derived from him, all of your validation sitting heavy on his tongue, desperate to suck those vague compliments and shallow praises from his lips, to swallow them whole, always ravenous for more.

Because you’re just as greedy as he is, in a way. And he knows it.

And he loves it.

His hand wraps around your throat again, pressing his claws into the delicate flesh slow and forceful and procuring new trickles of blood, cascading down your neck in ribbons of crimson.

A groan spills past his lips as he nuzzles his cheek into the tiny wounds, daubing his face with you while his hips begin to increase in speed and force.

Starched cotton chafes the wound on your stomach as he humps away at you, the thin, firm muscles sculpting his thigh flexing against your cunt with each of his movements.

“Ow, ow, ow,” you’re weeping, stuttered by the hiccups catching in your chest.

“Aw, does it hurt? Huh?” he lifts his head slightly, glowing eyes scouring your face with voracity. “Am I—f-fuck—hurting you?”

The rolling of his hips judders a little as you bawl out a confirmation, gnarled and weighted with spit on your sloppy tongue, a whiny hiss sucked through the gaps of his clenched teeth.

It all hurts so much, the grinding of his shirt against the slits he’s carved into you and the rubbing of his thigh against your sensitive cunt and the digging of his tongue into his newest infliction.

It all hurts so much, but you don’t shove him off, don’t push at his shoulders or kick at his hips, arms winding around his shoulders and clutching, a leg entwining with his own, knee hooked over the back of his.

Sharp teeth bury themselves in the fresh slash, persistently oozing on your neck right above your jugular, and gnaw at the borders, raw skin splitting further beneath their razored edges. Another scream gurgles wetly in your throat, mangled by a sob, his responding gruff sound of pleasure seeping into the wound he’s feeding on, white-hot and buzzing.

The hair framing your temples is saturated with dense salt, the strands beginning to crust and dry in flat little knots against your skin, casualties of the beading sweat and ceaseless tears.

The flesh of your cheeks feels heated and sore, gone tight from the thick streams of dried tears that stain them, tiny remnants of salt streaking your face.

He must be getting close already, snarls panted out against your shoulder, uncoordinated movements accelerating with each noise you make, faster and faster and faster until finally his teeth sink into your unmarred shoulder, a shriek piercing the atmosphere as his hips stammer, grinding hard, and then still.

A vicious shudder courses through his entire form as his cock throbs, body rippling beneath the force of it. Hot cum fills his trousers, sticky and thick and so, so much, viscous dollops leaking through the fabric. It’s tacky and blazing against your hip, the little jolts of his pelvis rubbing it in crude bands across your skin.

Your fingers tighten, clinging to him, desperate for the comfort only he can bring, even as his strong jaw flexes and his teeth burrow deeper into soft flesh, embedded at least an inch or more, his tongue laving in messy strokes over the blood-slicked skin bunched between his lips.

“Master, Master, Master,” you’re sobbing into him, his breath harsh and stinging against the bite.

Everything aches, muscles pulled taut from agony and anticipation, heavy with tension. Tiny pricks of pain erupt across your body in waves, conjured with each brush of his clothing. Sobs and screeches have left your throat ripped open, every rush of air feeling like an inhalation of razor blades.

You’re still speaking, still chanting out his honoured title, but your ears have gone numb, your own voice unrecognizable, nothing more than a distinct vibration in your chest.

It’s only when his cock is beginning to soften that he finally dislodges his teeth from your body, licking over the carvings of his mouth once, twice, three times for good measure before his head raises to look at you.

The sight is stunning, kicks the breath from your lungs and the fog from your brain, attention suddenly honed on him, tuned into his frequency.

Strokes of crimson paint his jaw in messy smears, his tongue licking lazily at the blood coating his chin, streaking it further. It’s almost artful in a sickeningly intimate way, how he’s been glazed in you, your blood staining the lines of his teeth and the curves of his gums, his skin shimmering with his own diluted drool.

His breathing is still frayed, cedar dyed with pungent copper breezing over your face in gentle huffs. A knuckle skims along your cheek, gaping gaze following it’s trajectory, his claws varnished a glittering scarlet, only a shade or two brighter than their natural colour.

“See?” he pants out, question airy on his tongue but infused with malice, eyes refocusing on your own. Something sinister tugs at the corners of his lips, broad smile stretching impossibly wider, peaked edges of his mouth nearly nudging his lower lashes. “Was that so difficult?”

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