SELENE ◇ Sleep Token

SELENE ◇ Sleep Token

  • WpView
    Reads 28
  • WpVote
    Votes 4
  • WpPart
    Parts 5
WpMetadataReadOngoing48m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Tue, May 12, 2026
Sleep. A made up god. Primordial deity that he dreamt up promising him glory and fame in exchange for his utmost devotion. It was supposed to be just a metaphor. A gimmick. A concept he can hide behind or the sieve to prevent the chunks of himself he doesnt want to share to slip through. So why oh why? Is one of their nicest roadie, their precious friend... naked, straddling his lap with runes they made up all over her body, "Oh my dearest V̏̅es̙͈̃se̝l͟͠.." A sharp salacious grin that looks off in her once soft face. Black out eyes staring at his soul like he is a lost belonging found "Mate.. What. the. fuck." ᛑᛗᛛ An enigmatic band. An uncanny girl possessed by their made up god. One tour to fix it all and get her back. while eldritch comedy and cryptic shenanigans afoot. Romance is a dead dove she cant eat apparently. ⦯⃦̩∩⃥̸⃡⦮⃦̩ ᛑᛗᛛ ⦯⃦̩∩⃥̸⃡⦮⃦̩ Sleep Token x Possessed!OC
All Rights Reserved
#5
metalband
WpChevronRight
Join the largest storytelling communityGet personalized story recommendations, save your favourites to your library, and comment and vote to grow your community.
Illustration

You may also like

  • Forward | Rewind to Tomorrow [Michael Jackson]
  • His Baby's Mamma [TAEKOOK]
  • [𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐄] Wednesday
  • BEGGED - John Logan
  • Enemy To Lover
  • House Rules - Beau Maxwell
  • Turns Out Curse Immunity Is Awesome!
  • Flying Too Close to the Sun
  • SEDUCED IN SIXTEEN ||TAEKOOK|| ONGOING
  • The Freak Circus x Reader

"It causes your immune system to turn against you," I explained gently. The color terrifyingly drained from his face as he stared at his knuckles. "I have a spot," he whispered, his voice scraping like glass. "Right here." He let out a strangled noise as the stadium footage buffered. "Riley!" he shrieked, covering his burning face while peering through his fingers at his future self. "Those pants leave absolutely nothing to the imagination!" He went so unnaturally still I thought his heart had stopped beating. His charcoal-stained fingers curled into tight fists. "Fifty," he whispered, scanning the fatal summary on the glowing screen. "I am... I am gone at fifty." What if the only way to save your future was to completely abandon your past? In 1982, Michael Jackson is suffocating. Trapped behind his family's compound gates and drowning under industry pressure, the rising star just wants a life of peace and normalcy. The universe answers-violently ripping him from his timeline and dropping him onto the bedroom rug of Riley, a freelance graphic designer in the year 2025. Stranded forty-three years in the future, Michael must face a world that already knows his tragic history. But Riley fiercely refuses to let that history repeat. She offers him the anonymous, ordinary life he always craved, rebuilding his shattered confidence brick by brick and teaching him the radical concept of self-love. More importantly, she arms him with the ultimate weapon: the brutal truth. She gives him the exact names of the snakes hiding in his 1982 backyard, the upcoming betrayals, and the devastating tragedies he is destined to face. When the universe inevitably pulls him back, Michael is no longer the timid pop star terrified of his shadow. He is a king preparing to claim his throne, knowing exactly how to rewrite music history and what it takes to survive. But armed with the future, changing his fate might cost him the one person who taught him how to live.

More details
WpActionLinkContent Guidelines