#insomnia cw

[liskantope]

This report on a very unique sufferer of Fatal Familial Insomnia is wild, man. (By the way, anything pertaining to FFI should come with a big content warning, especially in my experience right before bedtime.) And to think it came out in 2006, not long after I first developed a morbid interest in FFI. I had such a firm impression of sufferers of FFI becoming completely demented and uncommunicative and in tortuous misery after only a few months.

This guy wrote a book and drove hundreds of miles on almost no sleep, somehow. And people who cared about him let him do the driving, somehow. (And, to be fair, he did get to where he was trying to go and didn't get into an accident.) I recently had a 24-hour travel day after under 2 hours of sleep the night before and really didn't feel safe to drive by the end of it. This guy was made of some extraordinary stuff.

[thefreakandthehair]

treatment resistant chronic insomnia really is the fucking worst because like. I take my sleep meds and sometimes, they work great! and I get like, 5-6 hours of uninterrupted sleep which still isn’t enough but it’s something. and other times, it just makes me loopy enough to misread texts and think that a piece of my hair is a bug, leading me to essentially slap myself in the face at 2am, but not fall asleep?

anywayssss I have to be awake in 7 hours for an appointment and then go to social security for name change shit so fingers crossed 🫡

[pastel-the-ghost]

ghostkin culture is staying up all night and waking up too early but it's for literally 0 reason and you end up napping during the day

[rulesforthedance]

Last night I went to bed at 9:30 (a normal time for me) and then did NOT fall asleep. Eventually looked at the clock, it was 12:30, alarm was set for 6, was not even sleepy, could not come up with an explanation for why this was happening (it happens to me sometimes but usually for some obvious reason). Reset alarm for 8, took drugs to make me sleep, eventually fell asleep, had a nightmare that someone had turned my shower on and I could not find who had done it and was screaming. Woke up in the morning, posted on Teams that I would be late "due to a medical appointment" (fortunately had no meetings until 11 today so it was fine), THEN saw last night's melatonin dose sitting on my placemat 😭 that's why

[braveryhearted]

SOME MEME I FORGOT

@riftdancer said: ❝ how have you been sleeping? ❞ Kotetsu @ Barnaby.

"I've been getting the usual amount". Although, the normal quantity for Barnaby on a good night counted to a grand total of five hours. Not the greatest because that's not what an adult or anyone should intake but it's better than what he used to be, only getting a mere nap sometimes due to having mild insomnia.

"The plants in my room help me relax". True. Ever since Barnaby picked up the hobby of taking care of various greenery in his apartment, which included chamomile flowers, had gradually made him feel more at peace than when he didn't have the support system.

"Although, I don't have ginkgo ones. You know, to help with your degrading memory, old man. Such a pity". Of course, Barnaby had to revert back to his old ways somehow but it's not as mean as it used to be back when they first had met.

[godzexperiment]

im not being gifted sleep tonight xD ice cream and nix brain rot it is then for several hours resumed i guess

[tapuhauko]

"...I almost feel bad." They huff, before stuffing some fries into their mouth. Loihi continues purring under the table, hoping for a scrap.

Gallade moves into the room. Seems like the Pokémon had been worried as well. He walks up to Hau's seat and carefully unclasps their cape, hanging it over a nearby seat. Hau's about to complain some more, and possibly say things he'll regret, when Gallade presses a hand to their cheek. The two stare at each other for a moment, before Hau sighs, and turns to face Looker and the dessert he made.

"...Sorry. Molting season. Though it's not really an excuse."

"Doesn't really help things either, though."

They groan, fingers reaching up to carefully scritch at and smoothen out some feathers. "It's... It's alright, honestly. He deserved it, I guess. Sorry about your nose. Still, it didn't feel right, you know? But I accept your apology."

He examines the dessert, before he digs into the box of nuggets he bought. "What is this you made? It looks sorta familiar... I'm saving it for after, if that's okay."

He is sitting slouched in the chair at the table. He has since changed clothes and cleaned off his face. His nose is swollen and bruised, as is his knuckles. He is quiet for a moment before sighing.

"Couldn't sleep. I made you this instead."

Looker slides over a dessert that he made for Hau. It was a molded mound of custard. It is a small, rich pudding with flavors of vanilla, warm milk and cream, and a soft caramel layer on top.

"I tend to cook when I can't sleep. Mark of an insomniac is a dedicated and well-done hobby. Especially, when it's one that can be done at any hour and one that takes time to do. I personally have 3 hobbies that fit into those designations."

He takes a glance up from the point on the table that he had been staring at to finally look at Hau.

"I'm stalling. Look, I understand if you are upset with me or disappointed. I apologize for my actions. That was not why you had asked me to join you. I just couldn't stand there as he mocked you without saying something."

[toringo]

Down bad

[ashthewaterghoul]

I assume at one point all of the Papas had a “favorite” Ghoul to sleep with and to -sleep- with. Who’s bedding down with whom?

Oooo okay...

I'm going to go off "canon" and only use the Ghouls that each Papa had with them on stage.

First, literal sleeping with,

Primo - Earth.

They are very close, manning the greenhouses and flower beds together at any chance they get. Often they like to nap together before, during or after their work, or just sleep through the night in each other's beds. Earth also grows and makes teas that relax Primo, and help him sleep through the night. A rare occurrence since his rise to Papa-hood, because he had to spend so much time away from his beloved fratellini, and was often worried sick about them. Even more so following their rises, and their trips away.

Secondo - Omega.

Secondo is a world class insomniac. Quintessence can knock him right out and make him feel rested when he wakes up in the morning. Those treatments from the infirmary just make him feel worse, and the strength he needs poses a great risk of severe side effects. Omega gets to be privy to the lovely sight of a peaceful Secondo. He smiles in his sleep and looks about 10 years younger. Secondo always feels safe being held by the big Quint.

Terzo - Alpha.

Yes, he may be the Ministry's resident asshole like 99% of the time, but that 1% is reserved for those he loves. Terzo is one of them. Terzo always pushes himself way too much in a desperate attempt to impress the Clergy, and has a lot of chronic pain leftover from sprains and injuries he refused to sit out for long enough to heal. Alpha's natural heat helps soothe it, and it's just so fucking cozy. Terzo also feels very very very safe in the hold of his Fire Ghoul that would rip the world apart just to get him the last sandwich, and often gets some of the best nights sleep ever.

Copia - Phantom.

The little Ghoul had been through a lot in the pits and during their early days topside. Phantom often craved the protection that Copia assured them they would receive in his charge, but felt like too much of a burden to ask for it. Often, Phantom would sleep on the floor by Copia's bed so they didn't wake him up. But Copia, ever restless, would find Phantom on the floor and lift them into his bed. Phantom eventually realised it was okay to ask, and Copia gave them a spare key for the room. Phantom felt safe, and Copia loved protecting his little pipistrello, often feeling like they were the child he never had. They both sleep very well on those nights.

Okay now the other kind of sleeping with...

MDNI from this point on, obviously.

Primo - Omega.

Primo has some horrific joint pain, but with a lovely dose of Quintessence, he feels younger than his brothers all over again. He adores how Omega is oh-so-careful with how much Quintessence the Papa is receiving and how he'll give Primo anything he wants. Whether it be fast or slow, rough or soft. Anything. Primo just gets to let go of worries about how his body will react and live out all the fantasies he could ever dream of, whether he's in command or not. And Omega will always help him deal with the after-effects.

Secondo - River.

Idk, it just makes sense to me. He made the mistake of looking over to River playing the bridge of 'Stand By Him', thrusting his bass into the audience. Bro's been fixated ever since. Secondo finds River is one of the only people he can completely drop his guard around & give into whatever that graceful & strong Water Ghoul wants of him. Secondo usually tops or at least doms all his sexual encounters, it's what everyone expects of him & he finds he can't drop that front. But he can let go & be River's. Secondo only ever subs for River, and for River only. He loves when River just uses him. No respect for his rank or what he represents, he's just as good as a common whore. Also loves when River makes love to him & builds Secondo back up piece by piece.

Terzo - Omega.

Need I explain? I don't think so but I will anyway lol. Omega was the first Ghoul that Terzo saw, interacted with and slept with. You never do forget your firsts, after all. Terzo chose his colour for his robes to match Omega's eyes and magic, and if they could soul-bond and mate in the way Ghouls did, they would do it. They did try, but the magic washed over Terzo and left Omega with a half-fulfilled bond that weighed on him constantly unless he was near Terzo. So naturally they go at it like rabbits and rarely spend a lot of time apart.

Copia - Cumulus.

HEAR ME OUT!!!! Copia loves all his Ghouls, but especially Cumulus. When Copia noticed he'd gained some weight, he became incredibly self-conscious. He quite literally fell on his knees one night and begged her for how she did it. And Cumulus worshiped that man. She kissed all along his stomach, ground herself onto the gorgeous rolls of pudge and made him feel so loved that he couldn't help but love himself. He loves being in control of their encounters, but what he loves even more than that is Cumulus being the sexiest Dominatrix you ever did see (he absolutely calls her 'Mommy' btw). They can also be just as soft, and are on the regular, just like that fateful night. Copia also returns the favour on the odd day when Cumulus struggles with her own self-image. There's just an understanding there, and no one can match it.

[ephemerasnape]

I couldn't sleep, so have a dark, smutty one-shot.

Dawn of Regret 🔞

Poacher Executioner x You/MC

“Ye wanted to seduce a dark wizard,” the Executioner purrs, running his tongue across your lips. “Well, haha, it worked!” RAPE

Rape / Seduction / Teasing / Age Difference / Size Difference / First Time / Loss of Virginity / Dead Dove Do Not Eat

Read below the cut or on ao3.

Ends up the great ancient magic-wielding Hogwarts student ain’t so hot without her wand.

Your mind races with regrets as you ponder the situation you find yourself in. How could I have been so stupid? In the end, a simple Expelliarmus was all it took to have you groveling in the dirt before the dark wizards in the poacher camp you’d been raiding.

You’d been readily captured, your wand snapped in front of your horrified eyes, and taken, well, to bed with one of them. The very thought sends shudders through your body. 

You haven't gotten a wink of sleep the entire night, and can already see the sun begin to creep into the tent where you are being held. Being held very closely, one might add. As you'd laid on the uncomfortable cot for the past many hours, your wrists secured tightly behind your back, and your torso further secured around that of a massive Executioner, you’d done little but think of ways you might escape.

Finally, the Executioner shifts in his sleep, giving you the opportunity you’ve been waiting for - his warm body wrapping even more fully around yours. What is on-its-face repulsive gives you a fleeting hope - you are aware that getting out of this situation will involve trickery more than stealth given the nature of the predicament you’re in – and thus your brilliant plan is hatched.

One of the Executioner’s hands is laid on the cot right in front of your nose. You look at it, wondering how dirty it is. It looks surprisingly clean but the guy overall strongly resembles a caveman. Half beast himself.. And you can’t imagine his hygiene is the best. It certainly doesn’t smell the best, although his muskiness does hold a certain masculine appeal, you are loathe to admit.

With a slight grimace, you crane your head forward slightly, tentatively sticking your tongue out and pressing it against his pointer finger. There’s no response. Screwing your eyes shut, you move your tongue slowly up over the length of the finger. It takes several swipes of your tongue to elicit any reaction, but you do feel the Executioner – you believe his name is Mortimus – twitch slightly in his sleep.

Gaining confidence, you move your head a fraction of an inch forward, so that you’re able to engulf his entire finger in your mouth. The massive wizard grunts behind you, and you become even bolder, beginning to suck diligently on his digits.

He begins to stir, and you wonder whether he’s waking up. You can certainly feel something waking up right against your buttocks.

This could actually work…

You swirl your soft pink tongue around his finger, up and down, and alternate with suction, getting so lost in your task you don’t even really notice when the Executioner begins to wake. He gradually pulls you more tightly against him, his breathing raspy behind your ear. You keep sucking on his finger until he decisively drags your hips back towards him, bringing you into direct contact with what feels like an absolute battering-ram of an erection.

“Crupmite,” he growls, fully-awake now, he props himself up a bit on one elbow so that he can watch as he begins to gently thrust his finger in and out your pouted lips.

“Tryin’ to get a wizard all worked up, eh?”

You flush furiously but don’t otherwise react as he finger-fucks your mouth – feeling a bit paralyzed in fear or anticipation.

“Certainly givin’ me... ideas…”

You’d thought, well – you’d hoped that if you could distract him, get him to untie you.. Maybe let his guard down… You might have a chance of making it past the apparition wards around the tent.

But now, in the moment, with him gazing down at you, you wish ardently that you’d waited for another opportunity. You can literally feel the lust emanating off of the wizard – his eyes seemingly boring into your skin as your face burns with humiliation.

Until now, he’d just seen you as a pesky little brat that he had to deal with. Now he sees you as a pesky little witch who is in his bed.

And you see him – sort of. From what you can see from the corner of your eye, he’s apparently taken off his mask at some point, and a ruggedly-handsome face is exposed. Masculine for sure. Not young, not old. Relatively normal-looking for a professional killer. You struggle to make out the details and nervously your eyes dart up towards him just in time to watch a grin spread across his face.

“Seems ye might be good fer somethin’ after all, crupmite,” he gloats, withdrawing his finger from your mouth – a trail of saliva following it. He runs his wet finger gently across your lips, sending a shiver down your spine which settles between your legs. 

When he begins to untie the ropes around your waist, your heart is pounding so furiously that you nearly forget your plan, but the man seemingly has you figured. “Thought ye could trick me, eh?” he teases, his broad hands never leaving your body for even a moment. “I might look like a lumbering oaf, but I’m not actually daft.”

He keeps a firm grip on your robes as he maneuvers himself so that he’s facing you on the cot. Even seated he towers over your small form.

“I’m sorry, crupmite. Ye don’t get to suck my cock today. Nuffink personal, it’s just that it’s too risky. But that doesn’t mean we can’t ‘ave our fun.”

Your face goes white. “What do you…”

Suddenly, you’re pushed onto your back, the man pinning your upper arms down to the cot as he leans over you, leering at you with a menacing expression on his face.

“Ah! Please.. my wrists!” you cry, struggling in vain to get the pressure off of them.

“Thought I’d untie ye so ye could escape, did ya?” he chuckles darkly. “Not likely.”

And so he doesn’t untie you, but even Mortimus has to admit that having your hands behind you, contorting your chest upwards in that position, is not ideal, and so instead he wraps some ropes – not by magic, but, surprisingly, by hand – around your middle, securing your arms to your sides instead before he releases them from behind your back.

You sigh in relief at the removal of the crushing weight from your delicate wrists, only to realize moments later you are still in immediate danger.

What have I gotten myself into?

The enormous man moves forward then, licking your cheek with a broad tongue. You turn away, your face scrunched up in disgust, only to have it forcibly turned back towards him.

“Ye wanted to seduce a dark wizard,” the Executioner purrs, running his tongue across your lips. “Well, haha, it worked!”

He’s fully on you then – his tongue down your throat, causing you to squeal and squirm as he thrusts the organ in and out of your mouth possessively, and you know that it’s a promise of things to come.

Your mouth occupied, Mortimus reaches down to effortlessly part your thighs despite your pathetic attempts to keep them closed. Without a fraction of a doubt remaining in regard to what is about to happen, you scream into his mouth, and move to bite down on his tongue, only to find that he’s anticipated the action and withdrawn in time.

“Ah-ah,” he admonishes, wagging a finger above your face. “There’ll be none of that. After all, I’m on orders to turn you in to Rookwood alive, an’ if you bite me, all bets are off.”

Your desperation boils over. “Please, sir,” you whimper, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “Don’t do this. I’ve never… I’m-”

You can’t make eye contact and you certainly can’t finish your sentence. You just lay there, your face beet red - helpless, exposed, and at the mercy of a dark wizard...

A dark wizard who laughs at your misery and humiliation.

“Mmmm… Tha’s perfect,” Mortimus growls, stroking over your chest and stomach, squeezing where he pleases. “So I’ll be yer first…” He yanks down his trousers then, causing you to begin crying in earnest.

This is going to happen...

“No.. No!”

The Executioner smiles maliciously down at you as he leans back just enough for you to be able to watch him fisting his massive erection. 

“An’ there’s no guarantee you’ll ever be able to take another cock after this one.”

You scream as the man presses you down with one arm, using the hand to easily cover your mouth – half-blocking your nose, causing you further distress as your breathing is partially obstructed.

You kick and writhe to get away, desperately trying to protect the sensitive area between your legs. No one has ever touched or even seen you down there before, and to have this man be the first is just unthinkable.. but your struggles are to no avail – the Executioner is too strong, and before you know it, a firm, blunt object is pressing up against your vulnerable opening.

“Your mouth says no,” Mortimus chuckles, running the head of his cock up and down your wet slit, “but your cunt says yes.”

He keeps your mouth covered, stifling your pleas and cries as he forces himself into you. Although you realize he’s probably going a lot more slowly than is physically necessary, the sheer size of his penis splitting you open devastates your maidenhood, sending an intense pain coursing through you.

You are bawling as the man on top of you groans, having broken through your virgin barrier and fully-embedded himself inside your tight passage.

“Merlin…”

The pain is overtaken by humiliation and as your cries turn to quiet sobs, the Executioner begins to move. He’s so tall and broad that you can only see the buttons and rough hand-stitching on his vest – his face seems miles away while he's joined to you at the hip.

When you’ve quieted sufficiently, Mortimus removes his hand from your mouth and instead places it on your knee to keep you spread wide.

“Such a tight little- Fuck,” he gasps, his cock pistoning in and out of you in earnest. His heavy breathing consumes your world as you silently pray for him to finish quickly - for this ordeal to be over.

The Executioner pounds you relentlessly, pulling your body up slightly to get better access – deeper in your cunt – his thick meat battering your cervix.

“Not what ye ‘oped would come of that little stunt, I wager,” he breathes, smashing his wide pelvis into your comparatively tiny one over and over again in rough, forceful movements.

Your tears wet the pelts underneath your head just as you can imagine your blood does your skirts, but you"re crying not so much from physical pain as from despair as you’re violated by this colossal wizard and his colossal prick.

And, all the worse, it was almost entirely your doing.

Seconds later, the Executioner stiffens and a bestial groan of pleasure fills the tent. His imposing form jerks against yours as his release floods your womb.

No…

He collapses onto you then, panting into your ear. As he comes out of his lust-filled haze, he notices your soft whimpers and sobs. To your utter surprise, the man presses a kiss to the side of your face.

“Now, now, sweetheart,” he offers, petting your damp hair in a soothing gesture that you can’t be sure isn’t mockery before he continues as if having read your very thoughts. “’Twas yer own idea, after all.”

[a-little-buggy]

"Amore mio, we cannot keep doing this." Ezio paced across the wooden floor, running his hand through his hair. It was entirely dark out, and the room was lit by a single candle on the table. "You were gone two full days! I practically turned this city upside-down looking for you!"

"How was I supposed to know I was still seeing things!? I genuinely thought it would wear off before now!" Desmond was sitting in a common room chair; the dark circles under his eyes were accentuated by his washed out complexion. He had just come from a bath, otherwise he would still be coated in sweat and hay. "I thought after a few weeks everything would just go back to normal! Well. . ." Desmond gestured around at the Renaissance assassin's guild hall. "Normal being relative, and all."

Ezio pulled a chair over by Desmond and sat down, picking at the stray straws of hay still glued to Desmond's skin. "I know that you are just trying to keep active, but please. If I get another report of you passing out in an alley, or landing in the river, I swear to Christo I will go gray." He stopped and cupped his hands around Desmond's face. "Don't do this to me, Desmond. I'm too young for gray hair."

"Oh don't worry, it'll be just as popular with the chicks as ever." Desmond gave a *swish* of his imaginary long locks, but the motion made his head spin. He braced his arms against the table. "Though I personally have less interest in the grandpa-type."

"Molto bene, that means you should have a personal investment in not causing me any more stress!"

"You think it's stressful for you? You're not the one running an imaginary Boston Marathon every other weekday!" Desmond scoffed, and laid his head down on the table in such a way as to still be able to give Ezio the stink eye.

"You know that isn't how I meant it. I just wish I could convince you to stay safe." Ezio rocked his chair back, and set his heels on the corner of the table. "At the very least, until we have some kind of answer as to when these episodes occur, or why."

Desmond gave a deep, shuddering sigh. "What if we never get any such answer? What little I know about bleeds is that I originally got them from using the Animus. Except now, I've somehow traveled back through time, so who even knows what kind of effects that could cause."

Ezio pressed a finger to his forehead. "Wait a moment. What is the Animus?"

"Seriously? It's the device that showed me your memories. We talked about this a few days ago."

Ezio removed his feet from the table and sat upright, eyeing Desmond suspiciously. "And when was this again, exactly?"

"Why? I. . . I guess it was four days ago, now, so Thursday? I remember it was raining."

Ezio bit his lip and grimaced, then giving a deep exhale placed a gentle hand on Desmond's leg. "I had a contract in Forlì that day."

"No, no. You're kidding." Desmond pushed off of the table and sank down into the wooden chair, as if it could absorb the impact of this new revelation for him. Ezio couldn't have imagined Desmond getting any paler, but he had. "No. No no no no no Ezio I -"

"Hey, it's alright, you're alright, I just need you to breathe." Desmond was badly shaken by this point, and his legs had given out, leaving him sinking to the floor. Ezio grabbed hold of his shoulders, trying to ease his downward descent.

Desmond's voice cracked. "No, no, it's not alright!" He grabbed Ezio back, desperate for some kind of tether. "How can you stand there and tell me it's alright, just after telling me that you may not even be here!?!?"

"I am here, though. I'm here." Ezio wrapped his arms tightly around Desmond, holding him as close as he possibly could. What else could he do? "Just try to breathe."

And so the two sat there, as the candle burned down to a stump. Slowly, Desmond's shaking turned to shuddered breathing, which turned to deep breaths.

Ezio rubbed Desmond's shoulders. "It may not be much longer until daybreak. Do you think you are ready to try for some sleep?"

Desmond slumped forward, burying his face in Ezio's chest. "Honestly? I think I'm too exhausted to make it to bed. Here seems fine."

Ezio chuckled. "For you, perhaps, but I am a creature of comfort." With one of his arms still wrapped around Desmond's back, he slid the other one under Desmond's knees and stood up, carrying him off towards the bunks.

Desmond wrapped his arms around Ezio's neck. "My hero," he sleepily crooned.

"Don't sing my praises just yet, amò." Ezio shifted Desmond's weight, fumbling to turn the doorknob. "I may expect you to return the favor one day."

"What?!" Desmond gasped, playing up the dramatics. " 's not fair, you're much bigger than I am!"

"Is that meant as a compliment or an insult?"

"I dunno yet." Desmond yawned. "I'll decide later, when I need one or the other."

Soon enough, they both had clambered into bed, and were able to get some much needed sleep.

-----

Desmond spent the next few days occupying himself in the base. Besides helping sort through the dispatching of contracts, he got caught them caught up on some long overdue weapons orders and offered advice to whatever young assasin might come knocking. This was his favorite task. It was a reminder of a simpler time, of when he could stand behind a bar and just chat with people about whatever was ailing them. Except this was a little more murder-y. But having been a bartender in New York, it was not so much more murder-y as one might think.

But all the same, he was beginning to feel cooped up. And so he went to seek audience with the Mentorè, about perhaps being allowed on a group mission of some form.

There were two novices already in Ezio's office, a boy and a girl. They were likely discussing the details of an upcoming contract. Having already opened the door, Desmond knocked on the doorframe. Ezio waved him in.

"What can I do for you, Desmond?" Ezio propped his elbows up on the desk and clasped his hands, resting his chin on top of them.

"Oh, it can wait. Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt." Desmond glanced over at the novices, who in fairness, seemed unperturbed.

"So can this. Please, continue." Ezio leaned back in the chair, and the two young assassins stepped to the side.

Desmond cleared his throat. "With your permission, Mentorè," On this word he did a slight bow. Ezio rolled his eyes. "I would wish to be sent on a mission. As part of a group, of course," He hastened to add. "It's just. . . I don't do well feeling confined. And I'm about ready to go stir-crazy in here."

One of the novices smirked. "Is that different from the regular crazy somehow?" He asked. Desmond gave a dry, mocking laugh in response, but then turned back to Ezio and. . . Oh shit.

Desmond always knew that Ezio Auditore da Firenze was a dangerous man. He knew of all his great conquests, and had seen the fear in the eyes of his enemies. And yet somehow, to see the master assassin here and brimming with fury, it felt like the first time he really understood how terrifying such a man could be.

The other novice slapped the first upside the head, and then grabbed him by the wrist. "Thank you for the advice, Mentorè. We will send word as soon as we complete our task," She said, dragging him out the door, which closed firmly behind them.

Ezio took a deep breath, and settled back into his seat.

Desmond shuffled his feet. "Hey, so umm, you wouldn't have actually murdered that kid, right?"

"Fortunately, we will not have to find out." Ezio shot what he assumed was a comforting smile up at Desmond (it wasn't) and then rifled through some papers on his desk. "I actually have a mission that should suit you just fine. It should be straightforward, a matter of some scouting and interrogating a handful of people. There will be two others with you, and you will cover a fair bit of ground. Benè?" Ezio handed over a map with a few directions and way points marked on it.

Desmond nodded. "Yeah, benè. Thank you, Ezio."

"You're welcome. You leave in an hour. And Desmond," He continued, once Desmond had turned to leave. "I know you are highly skilled, but do still be careful."

"I will." Desmond walked back over to Ezio, then kissed him on the cheek and winked. "I promise."

Ezio kicked his boots up on the desk. "Oh, you are such a flirt."

"Well, I come by it honestly." And with that, Desmond left to make preparations.

-----

Desmond was sitting atop a window dormer, watching the surrounding area as another assassin prepared to 'talk to' a gang member in the alleyway below. A third assassin was perched on another neighboring rooftop, similarly spying for any potential complications. This was the method they had all decided on, and it had been working quite well. One person would go to meet the target, and the other two would remain above: out of sight so as to not cause any alarm, but close enough to drop into the fray should anything go awry. This was the last one on their list, and then they could all go back and herald their mission as a success.

He scanned the skyline. Besides the other assassin (whose name he had learned was Achille), there was no one visible up here. He peered down into the street. Piera (visible in blue) had just cornered in on the gang member (visible in gold). One or two of their targets had been willing to part with their information before it came to blows, but such instances were few and far between. Piera gave a quick display of her hidden blade, just to make her intentions and alliances clear.

As was typical, the conversation started with an exchange of thinly-veiled threats. "Next will come the unveiled threats, and then the diet violence," Desmond mused to himself.

The target started shouting. Desmond thought he heard another voice. He scanned the rooftops again, and this time saw a pair of guards off in the distance behind him. He looked back at Achille, who did not seem to react. "This again," Desmond muttered under his breath. He shifted to the right, and the guards were gone from his line of sight. "Please let that fix it." He turned back to watching the alley.

"You belong down in the street with the rest of the filth!" The voice was still distant, but it was definitely louder this time.

Desmond sighed. He turned to look behind himself, and saw the two guards from before making their way over, and a third guard climbing up behind them. "Just ignore them, and they'll go away," He said to himself. He turned back to the alleyway.

"Get down off this roof, or I will throw you off myself!"

Desmond scoffed. "I'd like to see you try. I think I'm finished throwing myself off of rooftops because of figments of my twisted imagination."

He heard another shout. This one wasn't from the target, or the illusory guard, but from Achille. "Desmond, look out!"

Desmond spun around, but not quickly enough, because a boot impacted him squarely in the chest, and he fell from the roof.

He desperately reached out, trying to grab hold of something to hang from. His right hand caught the wooden paneling of the window he was sitting above, but the wooden beam was brittle and snapped off, splintering under his fingernails. He yelled, and was unable to grab hold anywhere else.

Desmond's ankle rolled as he hit the ground, and he fell prone. The guard peered from the rooftop above, and apparently for the first time put together the implications of there being three hooded figures together. "Assassinos! Get them!" Well, so much for subtlety.

Piera ran over to help Desmond to his feet, and the gang member bolted. Desmond shook his head, and pulled himself up. "Don't worry about me, I can handle a few guards. Don't let the target get away!" He turned to face the building he had fallen from. The guards were already descending. He shifted his weight, and winced. Running's not an option. He readied his blade.

Desmond lunged at the first guard to get his boots on the ground. He hadn't yet pulled his sword, so Desmond easily grabbed hold of him, sliding the hidden blade between his ribs. Unfortunately, the next two landed with their swords already drawn, and Desmond could hear more footsteps fast approaching. "Shit, how many of you are there?"

He heard a shriek from above, and looked up just in time to dodge a guard falling from the rooftop, an arrow lodged in his chest. He landed with a dull, wet thud. Desmond spared a glance up towards Achille, who was already nocking another arrow. "Oh, this should be a peace of cake, then."

Desmond crossed blades with the two guards closest to him, parrying and deflecting their attacks. One of them leaped forward with an arcing swing of their sword. Desmond dodged under and to the side of the swing, then came around behind the off-balance guard, slitting his throat.

Another shriek, another thud. Desmond easily dispatched his next opponent, sweeping him off his feet and then skewering him where he fell. But the next guards approached together, and Desmond had to shift his focus to defense again.

Shriek, thud. One of the guards tried to bring his sword down on Desmond's head, who used both blades to intersect it. In the sword's reflection, Desmond saw another guard coming from behind him. "I've got you now, assassino!" Desmond shoved his current attacker off and spun around, swinging his blade in a wide arc. But as soon as his blade hit the guard's chest, he disappeared into mid-air.

Desmond growled. "Are yOU KIDDING ME!?!?!"

Shriek, thud.

A low chuckle from one of the guardsmen. "Jumping at shadows, boy? Ready for someone to put you out of your misery?" Desmond turned on his heel and lunged for the unlucky dastard's face, plunging both of the hidden blades deep into his eyesockets.

What few guards remained turned tail and ran.

Shriek, thud. Desmond turned once again to Achille, who was now clambering down the building, bow in hand. "They were already running, y'know."

Achille landed on the street, and shrugged. "They picked the fight. The least they could do is have the decency to see it through."

Desmond chuckled, then rubbed his shoulder. "Well, whether Piera caught the target or not, by now, she'll be heading back to base. We should be, too." He looked down at his swelling ankle. "No crazy parkour shit though."

-----

Ezio was pacing back and forth across the wooden floor, combing his hand through his hair. Piera had gotten back with her report on the mission two hours ago. He had already sent ten otherwise idle assassins out searching for Desmond, and he was deliberating about sending more.

"He has returned!" Came a voice from the door.

Ezio raced to the door. His stomach lurched when he saw Desmond, covered in blood and limping, except. . . He was also smiling? There he was, covered head-to-toe in blood, and grinning ear-to-ear!

"Desmond? Are you. . ." He looked Desmond up and down. Bloody. Beaming. "Did you hit your head?"

"Ezio!" Desmond threw his arms up wide, flinging blood on the assassins unfortunate enough to be standing near him. "No, I'm just fine! Well, I wrecked my ankle, but not nearly so much as I wrecked all of the guards!"

Ezio laughed. "So, you determined that what you needed was catharsis, and that any guard would suffice?"

"Well no, actually," Desmond responded a bit sheepishly. "I let them get the drop on me, believing they weren't real."

Ezio very abruptly stopped laughing. "You WHAT -"

"Can we discuss it later? I know it's a problem, but I'm currently riding a high, and I would like to enjoy it."

Ezio started to object, but instead wrapped an arm over Desmond's shoulders. "Later then." He lifted his arm, and stared in horror at the gloopy mess now dripping from it. "Dio mio, someone needs to give you a bath."

Desmond smirked. "Are you volunteering?"

-----

I don't ever think of myself as a creative person, so I am ABSOLUTELY blaming @sulfies that I have done this again, lol. I hope you enjoyed though! Much less bleed effect whump this time around, and much less re-reading to check that it makes sense, lol. Hyperfixation + insomnia = I wrote another story, but now it's a quarter to six in the morning and I may low-key hate myself tomorrow (today?). Thanks for reading!

[saers]

“Shhh…” He soothes, “It’s alright. Let yourself slip deeper. I’m right here to keep you steady. Let yourself sink.” You do kind of feel like you’re sinking, but it’s so warm and soft that you don’t really mind… not to mention how good the hand through your hair feels. You sigh, and it feels like you literally sink into the mattress, beyond what should be realistically possible. 

Chapter 16 of R&R (Rabble & Rampallians) (M Rating!) by @wishing-stones featuring @megalommi's (18+ only please, cw for unreality and hypnosis!) Sans, Baggs, really round-house kicked my brain into doing Some Shit(tm)! I'm on Chapter 31 now, and am having a great time. I also did not trust Baggs as far as I could throw him at this point, so he came out much more menacing than perhaps needed. 8'D

[therighthandofvengeance]

I may not be able to love you, but I can learn to love myself in your honor.

[godzexperiment]

sleep what's that

[pokeberry5]

PLS what is the story/lore behind the tim insomnia art piece (w/ him holding the bloody batarang) the angst looks SO GOOD

ngl it's been a while so my memory of the concept behind insomnia is spotty, but for more artsy pieces like this it's less about the lore or specific situation and more about the visuals/feeling to me? so it's more that i have a scene come to me and i build that out (<- me trying to explain that i dont have elaborate lore lol)

so the context i came up with to justify the scene is tim being overwhelmed/semi-dissociating, caught up in the problems he's been running from as tim drake using robin an escape, unable to deal with them, and trying not to think about the fact that half of those problems are caused by the fact that he's robin, that he has a secret identity, and that he's going through it in ways he can't explain to people not in the know -> hence, tim clutching the batarang both as something to ground him and as something that's hurting him

i had also recently read silverwhittlingknife's post about tim as a watcher, especially when he's first introduced—the set of panels where tim is just a set of eyes definitely informed some of this ("some" being the panel with the giant eyes lol) (pls read swk's meta their stuff is always so cool)

i think? i also pulled the aesthetic of the bloody batarang from an old scrapped piece i never posted bc i didnt like how it turned out (it's like. from when i first started drawing tim) so some of that is there

this was like. one of my first attempts at more comic-style dramatic lighting and yeah damn i've come a long way. again! i dont know what's happening here, i just wanted to draw tim bleeding, clutching a batarang, and under some dramatic lighting

(this is also. beyond what you asked but: i think this shows how much my design for tim has changed since my initial conception of him--he had much straighter/longer features that have really softened up, which i think you can see most in the nose. and no moles!)

[fordtato]

Everyone was doing coke in the 80s.

bonus image:

[edited: i adjusted the lineart - original lineless paintings are below the cut - i was torn because i like how loose it looks lineless, but I also like my lines???]