#hooked writes

Seaweed is everywhere. It truly looks like the beach exploded. It was a warzone, or was about to become one. Vessel was screaming, gnashing his teeth, clawing his eyes out, commanding waves with the force of his anger. Sleep stared at Vessel, uncomprehending. The anger was not that of a person, was not that of anything other than a god. But Vessel was not a god, would never be a god, not if Sleep could stop it. The only way You can stop Me is if You kill Me where I stand. A voice, unfamiliar, screamed at Sleep. The voice, unfamiliar, strange, tinged gold, ripped through Sleep with the force of gods being born into this world. Something overtook Sleep then. He did not have a name for it, but Vessel did. It was fear. They both formed on the beach. Vessel, a corpse walking. Sleep, still cloaklike, strange, muted. 

“We must stop whatever this is. We can talk about it, figure it out. Together, we can stop it,” Sleep’s voice scraped against Vessel’s eardrums, as though it came from his own mouth. The audacity. 

“Oh, oh! Together?! Now you want to fucking talk? What is your problem! You’re in love with me, I know that. Is that it? The second you can’t continue to function without me, you want things to be reasonable? You want me to bite my tongue, rip my fangs out, bleed for you! Is that because it’s hot to you, Sleep? Is it because you’re horny? For a god, you’re really fucking human these days, Sleep. I can’t stand you. I wish I’d never bonded with you. I wish I’d never fallen for you. Now I’m not even human. I don’t know what I am! Am I your boundary! Your limit! A god in my own way?! Why can’t I remember anyone. Why did you have to take all that I am! What did you fucking do to me,” Vessel’s voice crescendoed, tears of rage pouring red down his face. 

“Calm yourself,” Sleep snapped, bearing teeth. Vessel’s jaw dropped. His eyes went wide, comically so. 

“Calm myself! Are you bloody fucking serious? You locked me up! You took over my body and killed it! And you want me to ‘calm myself’ how fucking dare you!” Sleep’s insidious shadow tentacles wrapped around Vessel when he would not calm down. His arms were manacled behind his back, his knees knocked out. 

“I said calm yourself,” Sleep reiterated, gagging Vessel. “Or do you prefer a more violent version of love?” the god that Vessel had first met stood before him, though now there was not an ounce of decay present. Sleep’s ascension to His full power once again was driving Them, powering Them. 

Vessel can see, in the real world, for just a moment. He has ripped his arms open. His blood glows vibrant against dark skin. It is oily, shiny, slick with a rainbow sheen. It’s not blood. 

The ocean within Their mind begins to boil. Every ounce of resentment and codependency the god and the man hold for one another comes to the surface. 

Suddenly, like a glitch, his blood ran red again. Forest air surrounded him. He was against a tree, bound somehow to its trunk. He can see again, fully. He cannot feel extra eyes on his face. Sleep stands before him, moving with the forest breeze. Sleep’s maw is stained red, flesh hanging between His teeth. Somewhere both far away and impossibly close, a tree stands. Their anger has dragged them both back to Sleep’s realm. 

III’s feet pounded the pavement. His warm up had gone well, but he was worried about jumping into a circuit. He kept an eye on the clouds above, dark and heavy with rain. His music was interrupted. New text from Vessel. Would you like for me to read it? 

“I guess,” though odds were, he was probably yelling at III for starting a run when it was this close to raining out. Command not recognized. New text message fro- “Yes! Yes, yes. Read it,” Are you seriously running right now? Would you like to respond? “Call Vessel,” Calling “Mom”. “What! No! Stop. End call!” III ripped his phone out, jabbing the red end call button. The whole point of the tech was to not have to do this while running, but technology was not on III’s side today. Neither was the weather. A fat raindrop hit him right on his forehead. 

“You’re not really running, are you?” 

“Yes, Ves, I am. I’m committed to this marathon,” III could hear Vessel roll his eyes. 

“You’ve been committed to every single marathon since you turned sixteen, III. It’s going to rain bad today. It is already here. Can I convince you to come to the gym with me?” 

“Ugh, Vessel, I hate being caged in a building. I have to be free,” 

“III. Please. I don’t want you to get sick,” III tipped his head back and groaned. He felt himself give in before he even opened his mouth. 

“FINE! Ugh. Fine. JUST for today,” III could already feel the walls. Running on a treadmill made him feel like a hamster. 

“I joined a new gym, by the way. Heavier weights. I maxed out the free weights at the old one,” Vessel bragged. He had started a specific regime and was seeing incredible improvements, even III could see it.