#insomnia writings

[crippledpunks]

my heart goes out to you if you're a disabled person who has a complicated or negative relationship with sleep. if you need to sleep a lot but can't due to life circumstances, or sleeping extra causing other symptoms to flare up. if you can't sleep enough due to pain, or nightmares, or psychosis, or bipolar, or depression. if you sleep way too much and find it hard to stay awake. if you can't fall or stay asleep. if you need medication in order to be able to sleep. if you don't feel rested from sleep. if you wake up a lot in the night. if you have bladder or bowel accidents while asleep. if you twitch or convulse or move too or get injured in your sleep. if you can't control your sleep schedule no matter what. if you can't sleep during "normal" sleeping hours. if you can't sleep for 8+ hours straight but can sleep for shorter amounts of time. if sleep is what you need but for one reason or another you just can't or refuse to do it.

i care about you. your disabilities deserve to be seen and acknowledged

[concentfortea]

[pigeon-ponders]

thinking again about the tragedy of the hive. something is changing the tides of your world and it is a god wave that will destroy your civilization. you search to stop it and discover the power to save your species from extinction. but your species never would have been extinct -- the god wave was a lie and the force causing it was a god coming to save your kind, uplift them, extend their lives and bestow knowledge for a golden age. the deal you made was from that god's opposing force. you've doomed your entire race to an endless cycle of violence to survive. you trade ten fragile years of life for immortallity at the cost of killing endlessly. you never learn the truth, not until milleniums later, and far too late.

thinking about the tragedy of the osmium siblings. their desparations turned against them like a knife which they used to carve away anything in existence that challenged them -- because it is a threat against their life, and this all started to save their lives. how ironic it is, then, that at the cost of immortality, they worship death.

thinking of xivu's stubborness, her steel chitin and flaming heart, twisted into a blinding hatred of anything that goes against her beliefs -- her brother's will. "I’ll beat the world until it changes! I’ll kill anything in the way!"

thinking of oryx's thirst for knowledge, for answers, because what you know can't harm you. of his love for his sisters, which he would do anything for. "Let us go down, down, where we may discover truth, some power to avenge ourselves upon our betrayers, some hope of survival."

thinking of how love is violence is love is violence to the hive. it is a circle. "I love mighty Xivu more than a moon loves the tide. I'll kill her for this. Over and over, forever and ever."

thinking.

[feral-ballad]

Craig Morgan Teicher, from To Keep Love Blurry; “On his bed and no longer among the living”

[harmonictechnicality]

Steve wakes up around three or four in the morning almost every night. He’s always careful getting out of bed. Small movements, slow footsteps. Minimal bones cracking. Doesn’t want to wake Eddie. Not that he needs to be this careful because his boyfriend could sleep through several natural disasters (and if someone bothered to wake him in this scenario, he’d put an impotency curse on them or some equally fucked-up shit). 

But that’s one of the reasons why they work. Not because of the sad-dick curse thing. They just exist on different sides of the scale. The raging insomniac and the deepest sleeper known to mankind. It balances out in the weirdest possible way.

Still… he’s always careful. Can never be too careful.

Steve doesn’t really do much when he wakes up at this ungodly hour. He sort of walks around their duplex, drinks a glass of water, opens a window to breathe in that pre-sunrise air. It fills his lungs up differently than normal air. At least, it feels like it does.

Like less people are breathing it in. Like he can take up space without feeling selfish. The logic doesn’t really add up but whatever. Concepts like logic and science are overrated at four in the morning.

After another lap around the place, he slides back into the covers, drapes an arm over Eddie’s waist. His t-shirt is rumpled up to his chest, so Steve is met with linen-warm skin. His fingers curve into Eddie’s sides, pulling himself closer. 

Steve yawns, breathing out all of his pre-sunrise air. Inhales the scent of his boyfriend instead. Smiles like an idiot into the pillow because it’s totally a fair trade.

And Eddie… well, he doesn’t even budge - doesn’t even stir when Steve settles in next to him. He just continues to wheeze through his nose, mouth slightly open. Not quite a snore, but Steve will probably tease him about it in the morning regardless. 

This right here. This makes Steve’s shitty sleep cycle worth it.

The sun pokes through the window blinds. Eddie pokes Steve’s cheek. Too much poking going on for Steve who definitely didn’t get enough sleep, per usual.

“You got up last night.” Eddie mumbles, still lazily poking him. 

“How’d you know?”

“Bed felt different.”

Oh. The way Eddie says it. A crash of honesty. His voice sounds weathered, unused from sleeping. Barely awake. It sort of hits Steve’s heart like a crime he didn’t even know he was capable of committing. 

Honestly, he doesn’t get why last night would be any different. Steve gets up most nights, not just last night. But Eddie looks particularly wounded by this (new) realization, so Steve probably shouldn’t point that out right now. Maybe in the afternoon when Eddie is more alert. Less… offended.

“Well, I’m back now.” Steve grabs Eddie’s index finger, the one poking him, and places it over his own lips. Bites at it gently till Eddie pulls away in protest. He’s smiling as he swears. Lets out a string of half-hearted threats about how he’s gonna pour Steve’s hair supplies down the sink for such a vicious attack. 

It’s a little irresistible when Eddie gets like this. When he’s the pouty one instead of Steve. All he can think to do is reach out, curl his hand underneath Eddie’s chin and pull him in. Eddie moves so easily, gives up his one-sided fight long enough to kiss Steve. Hands running up his back, legs hooking around Steve’s thighs.

Drowsy, morning kisses are so good. So, so good. Their lips feel heavier, their motions feel thicker. Every touch is guided by pure need. Steve fucking needs this, to feel Eddie curving into him, arms framing his own, groaning every damn time they break away. It all makes Steve feel needed too. Needed by the guy who changed the trajectory of his life by asking Steve to ‘hang out or something’ two years ago. 

Or Something turned out to be absolutely everything.

“New rule.” Eddie huffs, drags his lips down Steve’s jaw. “For every hour you spend awake during the night, you owe me.”

Steve laughs. “I owe you, huh?”

“Mhmm. You owe me an extra hour of wallowing in bed together in the morning.”

“What about work?”

“The hours will have to rollover, I guess. Accrue interest.” Eddie lifts up from Steve’s neck, eyebrows raised. Clearly having too much fun with this. “We can hash out the details over coffee and burnt toast.”

Typically, Steve would play along, continue the little comedy routine that Eddie starts up. But he’s so damn tired from the lack of sleep and early fucking wake-up call. So instead, he tugs Eddie back down by his collar and whispers, “Whatever you say, baby.”

Because that’s what it boils down to. He’d do anything for Eddie to kiss him this deep, till their lips blister and their jaws ache. Steve would give every fragment of lovesick happiness in his heart, just to hear the way Eddie says his name all breathy and raw. 

He can’t say that out loud, dear god no. Eddie would mock his ass into next century. So Steve just hums into Eddie’s mouth, twists the collar of his shirt enough to permanently wrinkle it. They’re verging into that gray area between cable-approved makeout sessions and dry humping till the alarm goes off. If there wasn’t an alarm to worry about, Steve would already have Eddie’s boxers already his ankles and moaning his name the way he likes it best.

Whoever invented alarm clocks are the ultimate boner-killer.

Steve ducks his head into the crook of Eddie’s neck, lays a few quick kisses on top of his shoulder. Hopes that translates to, ‘I wanna suck you off till there’s nothing left, but I’m a boring fucking adult with a boring fucking job.’ 

The translation must be clear enough because Eddie rolls off of him and heads to the bathroom. Seems just as grumpy about it as Steve. Good. They can be cranky together.

When he comes back out, they get ready for their respective work shifts. Steve looks over, watches Eddie struggle with a tangled portion of his hair, before giving up.  Accepting defeat way faster than Steve ever would. “Uh, Eddie?” He tries his best to hide his snickering through the question.

“Yeah?”

“Why does it matter if I wake up sometimes?” Okay. Most times.

“You’re gone.” Eddie shrugs. “Simple as that.”

The reaction is too mellow for Eddie though. Shrugging and dismissiveness? Nah. He’s downplaying the shit out of whatever he’s feeling, and Steve’s not having it.

“What do you mean it’s simple?”

“It’s just… I don’t know. Doesn’t seem fair.” Eddie checks the clock, then sighs. “I want more time.”

More time? More time with Steve or more time in general? Either way, it doesn’t add up. They’re young - they have all the fucking time they could ever want. Also, they live together and have all the same friends. It’s not exactly a logical theory.

Then again, neither is Steve’s ‘pre-sunrise air supply’ theory. None of it makes sense. But at least they’re here. Wanting fresh air and each other. That’s enough logic for a lifetime.

“Hey.” Steve walks over and takes Eddie’s hand. He taps over his ring finger, the one that symbolizes something they can’t have. Not now, not in this society. Still. It means something. So he stares intently at it, rubs over the place where a ring might sit. Thinks that Eddie would pick out something bold. Something gaudy and perfectly him.

More time. Steve gets it, he does. He releases Eddie’s hand and nods. Smiles.

“I’ll steal us as much time as I can, Eddie Munson.”

[snowyroads]

he’s a sleepy guy

[senoleaf]

here's some Hypno's Lullaby / Pokepasta characters in my style

some of my headcanons below!

Steven: 24 years old; 190 cm / 6'3''

- Haunted by a hallucination of his dead brother that constantly reminds him of his misdeeds

- Fluctuates between a completely corrupted state (shadowed skin + red eyes) due to MissingNo.'s influence and a semi-conscious state (shadowed eyes) in which he sometimes gets lucid enough to question what happened that day

Glitchy RED: 26 years old; 182 cm / 6'0''

- Face always half hidden by shadows

- Despises people abusing glitches or bugs and thus despises Steven

- Always looks serious

Grey: 16 years old; 167 cm / 5'6''

- Constantly nervous

- Somewhat scared of (Glitchy) Red but also looks up to him since he's from "the original game"

Shinto:

- Mischievous

- Despises people cheating through any means, including glitches and bugs

- She found out that Grey is actually a real human's soul forced to possess the player character of their game and thus believes his "cheating" to be his human soul simply not adhering to game rules, allowing him to catch her by accident

- Has taken a liking to Grey and will (unbeknownst to him) protect him from people intending to cause harm

- Still scares him sometimes for fun

(Monochrome) Gold: 19 years old; 170 cm / 5'7'' (when alive)

- Is incapable of actually dying, constantly stuck in a state of pain

- Sometimes the Unown within him will take over his body for whatever reason, otherwise they will function like a hive mind allowing him to see through their eyes and float with their help

(- This was caused by Steven, corrupted by the glitch MissingNo. after Gold had found him in the Bellsprout Tower)

(Insomnia) Silver: 20 years old; 175 cm / 5'9''

- Skin covers his mouth keeping him from speaking

- He can cut/rip it open, but it will grow back in around a minute

(- This was caused by Steven, corrupted by the glitch MissingNo. after Silver confronted him seeing what he had done to Gold)

Mike: 4 years older than Steven, (28 years old); 180 cm / 5'11''

- A remorseful spirit incapable of moving on, bound to Steven after his death

- Contrary to the hallucination Steven is seeing, Mike can only be perceived by Gold

- Furthermore he is convinced that the person who killed him wasn't his brother / that something had forced him to do it

[yikes-ajax]

I dont have a clever and witty sarcastic comment tonight, I just think she's cute

[nyrandrea]

Restless

Summary: As your sleepless nights start to catch up with you, you turn to a certain vampire who might just be able to help.

Also available to read here on A03!

Word Count - 2.7k

Enjoy!

xxx

Sleep had always been something of an illusion to you. 

Each night, as the world succumbed to slumber, you lay in your bedroll, with eyes wide open, gazing at the twinkling stars of the endless night sky. It was as if the world had pressed pause, leaving you to confront the shadows of your own thoughts. Your insomnia was a relentless adversary, a cruel warden that held you captive in the prison of wakefulness. 

The nights stretched on endlessly, and as the hours ticked by, your exhaustion grew more profound.  

Your mind raced with thoughts, a relentless carousel of worries, hopes, and regrets. You would toss and turn, your body tangled in the sheets, seeking elusive comfort. Come morning, the birds seemed to mock you, a constant reminder of the passage of time that slipped away while you lay wide awake.

By the time everyone else was up and refreshed from a good night’s sleep, you were still lying flat on your back, your bloodshot eyes stinging as you stared up at the pale morning sky. 

“Darling, it’s time to get up,” Astarion said, standing above you with hands on hips, his expression somewhat bemused. “Honestly, you’re so lazy, just like Gale.” 

He muttered that last part, glaring towards the wizard’s tent as a rumbling snore emanated from it and echoed throughout the camp. The vampire suddenly smirked, and you rolled your head to follow his gaze, only to see Karlach sneaking towards the tent with her hands out, ready to pounce. 

The snoring was cut short with a high-pitched scream, followed by a roar of laughter, and a lot of cursing on Gale’s part. 

“Good, at least that’s one of you up,” Astarion said, turning back towards you. “Now, are you going to follow suit? Or am I going to have to stoop to Karlach’s tactics? Brash as they are.” 

“Hey! My tactics are quite refined, thank you very much,” Karlach rebuked, stabbing a thumb in Gale’s direction, the poor man stumbling to find his cloak. “Got him up, didn’t I?” 

“That you did, darling.” 

“I’m up,” you muttered hoarsely, wincing as you slowly pushed yourself up off the ground, your body feeling about a hundred years old. “I’m up.” 

“Oh dear,” Astarion grimaced. “Looks like someone didn’t get their beauty sleep last night, hm?” 

His tone was light but there was an almost... concerned note to it, as if he was prodding. You felt a pang in your chest; he only spoke the truth; your eyes, once bright and expressive, now bore the heavy bags and dark circles of sleep deprivation. Your skin had dulled and paled considerably over the past few weeks, and your hair was dishevelled and unkempt.  

You almost certainly looked as bad as you felt. 

Part of you wanted to blame the group: Astarion for nearly sucking you dry of your blood, Karlach for being so damn loud all the time, Gale for making demands of you every ten minutes, Lae’zel for very nearly causing fights everywhere she went with her brashness, Shadowheart for her condescending demeanour and Wyll for craving validation from you every time you had a chat with him. The only sane person here seemed to be Halsin, and even he was starting to grate on your nerves for just looking so damn well-rested and perky.

The other part of you wanted to cry, to apologise for being such a failure and run away into the woods to never be seen or heard from again and just succumb to whatever fate the mind-flayer parasite had in store for you. 

Instead, you forced a smile, and lied.  

“Just had a nightmare, is all.” 

“Hm,” Astarion hummed, a simmering concern etched into the lines of his face. In that moment you felt a soft push in your mind, and the tadpole behind your eye squirmed as if responding to something. The atmosphere was heavy with unspoken emotions, a palpable tension that seemed to hang between you both.  

It was only when you winced that the vampire averted his gaze, and the unseen force retreated from your mind. 

“Terribly sorry,” Astarion said as you rubbed your head. “It would seem that my worm wanted to talk with yours; perhaps it was... concerned. Ooh, do you think that they’re best friends?” 

“I doubt it,” you muttered, a little annoyed at his giddiness. “Maybe tell yours to mind its own business next time.” 

“Of course, apologies again,” he said with that smooth voice and puppy-dog eyes of his, it was enough to make your irritation melt away. “But should a nightmare ever arise in that darling head of yours again, just know that you can seek me out.” 

You blinked, a little surprised at the open invitation. You couldn’t quite tell if it was genuine; it was always hard to tell with him. The only times you had ever been intimate was whenever he sought you out for a bit of casual fun. He seemed confused as to why you never wanted to initiate, but you tried to explain that while you enjoyed your time together, you never wanted to invade his privacy as you respected that camp time was everyone’s chance for a bit of peace and were entitled to such.  

This only seemed to confuse him further. 

Still, this had to be a big step for him, to ask you to his tent -his sanctuary- and you didn’t want to seem ungrateful. 

“I-I will,” you stutter. “Thank you.” 

“Anytime, my dear,” Astarion smiled. “Now, shall we see what chaos today brings for us? It’s been far too long since we’ve had to kill anyone.” 

You bumped his shoulder playfully. “We killed that group of bandits only yesterday.” 

He returned the gesture with a sly smirk. “Exactly.” 

During the day, you continued your journey with a fragile facade of normalcy, sipping on coffee like it was the elixir of life, desperately trying to stay awake. Your interactions with others were tinged with a weary detachment, as if you were viewing the world through a foggy pane of glass.  

Emotions played hide-and-seek within your very soul. Frustration lurked just beneath the surface, ready to erupt at the slightest provocation. An innocent quip or question would trigger an unexpected wellspring of tears, followed by nervous laughter, leaving everyone in the group perplexed. You merely brushed it off as the tadpole messing with your head, but even that raised a few eyebrows as nobody else was acting up—it was a good thing you were persuasive. 

You tried to avoid battles wherever and whenever you could, opting to take the longer roads or attempting to sweet-talk your way out of a sticky situation. However, some fights were unavoidable, and this was when your sleep deprivation was really put on show for everyone to see; your movements were sluggish, enemies were able to get more hits on you and you had to be helped back up to your feet on more than one occasion.  

The others insisted on setting up camp a little earlier than usual so you could rest and, despite your trying to tell them that you were fine and wanted to keep going because these tadpoles weren’t going to remove themselves anytime soon, they wouldn’t take no for an answer.  

So, here you were again, on your back, staring up at the stars. Another night of having an existential crisis while everyone else slumbered on peacefully. Rinse and repeat. 

You had tried everything to conquer your insomnia. Experimented with herbal teas, soothing music, you had even consulted a sleep specialist back in Baldur’s Gate who prescribed a cocktail of medications. But the battle persisted, night after night. 

Sitting up and rubbing your dry, stinging eyes, you decided to try something else. 

As you crept through the camp, you were careful not to wake anyone else up as you approached Astarion’s tent, tentatively peeking in through the flap before reprimanding yourself; even though he had invited you, boundaries were important, you couldn’t just go barging in. So, you gently knocked on one of the wooden beams that supported the tent. 

“Astarion...?” You softly whispered, waiting for a response. 

Only silence followed. 

You knocked again, wincing slightly at the louder noise you made. For a moment you thought about abandoning this whole silly idea and going back to staring into space for the next eight hours, but desperation made you persistent. 

Mercifully, you heard a faint shuffle come from inside the tent. 

“Come in,” Astarion’s husky, muffled voice answered. 

Nervously, you slipped inside, and a wave of warmth immediately washed over your face as you were greeted with the sight of a bare-chested Astarion sitting cross-legged on his bedroll. You were grateful he at least had pants on, otherwise you would have been out of there like a shot. 

A mischievous smile spread across his face as he watched you squirm uncomfortably. “Whatever is the matter, darling?” His lips formed a perfect pout. “Come to ask me for a little cuddle to chase the bad dreams away?” 

Your nostrils flared as you glowered down at him while he smirked smugly back up, because of course he would tease you about something like this. You should have known that he wasn’t going to take you seriously. 

“Forget it,” you said, making a sharp turn to re-open the tent flap. “I-I never should have come here, I’ll just... leave you be.”  

You missed the flash of panic on his face as he quickly got to his knees to reach out and grab your wrist before you could make it out.  

“Wait!” He said, stopping you in your tracks. “I’m sorry, come back in, please?” 

You slowly turned your head. 

“I promise not to tease you.” 

Begrudgingly, you allowed him to take your hand and escort you back inside, guiding you to sit down beside him on the floor. 

“You’re having trouble sleeping again, I presume?” 

Nodding your head, you squeezed the bridge of your nose and sighed, trying to swallow down the overwhelming urge to break down in front of him and cry in pure frustration.  

“I... I’ve been struggling with insomnia for a while now.” 

Astarion scoffed. “Well now, that’s a revelation.” 

You had half a mind to slap him. 

“Sorry,” he said, holding up his hands in a placating manner. “No teasing, of course, but come on darling, it was pretty obvious from the start.” 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, your gaze cast downward, wondering why you even came here in the first place if he was just going to insult you. 

“You’re still beautiful,” he said, softly caressing your jaw to angle your face towards him. “Very beautiful indeed.” 

Your heart thumped wildly as the tip of your nose brushed his, and you would have crumpled into his well-tuned act of seduction if it were not for one burning question suddenly on your mind. 

“How do you do it?"

“I- do what?”  

“Elves don’t sleep, right?” You said, blinking curiously. “How do you... not sleep?” 

“We uh... meditate, darling. Wait, how do you not know this?” he asked, pulling back with his eyebrow raised. “You must have seen me doing it at some stage or another.” 

“...I always just thought you pretended to sleep,” you hummed in thought. “Now that I think about it, the way you lay down was always kind of strange looking.” 

He snorted a laugh at your brutal honesty, and feeling a jab of guilt, you tried to back-track on your word vomit. 

“Sorry! Um… no offence?” 

"None taken, darling,” he said, waving a nonchalant hand. “I can see why my eloquent poses would look strange to you, but for elves, meditation is a common practice. Helps us to… calm down; be in the moment, as it were.” 

A comfortable silence fell between you.

“Could you show me?”  

Astarion gave you a questionable look. “You want me to show you how to meditate?” 

You nod vigorously and cross your legs with your arms resting on your knees to show that you’re serious. It takes you a moment to figure out which fingers were supposed to touch together but you get there eventually.  

With a bemused smile, the vampire shrugs. “Alright, I've had stranger requests.” 

You wanted to question that but put a pin in it for another time. 

"Are you ready?" Astarion asked. You nod, your heart fluttering with both anticipation and trust. “Now, clear your head.” 

You give him a dry look. 

He rolls his eyes back. “Yes, admittedly a little hard, what with the little residents living up there but just... trust me, alright? Close your eyes.” 

You complied, and Astarion began to guide you, his words soft and rhythmic, like a gentle lullaby. "Breathe in deeply," he said, his own breath aligning with yours. "Feel the air fill your lungs, expanding your chest, and exhale slowly, try to let go of any tension." 

You followed his instructions, your breath matching his like a perfectly choreographed dance. With each inhale and exhale, you felt a growing sense of calm washing over. 

"Thoughts may arise, like passing clouds," Astarion murmured. "Acknowledge them but let them drift away. Return your focus to your breath.” 

You found yourself navigating the currents of your thoughts with newfound ease, like a sailor guiding a boat through calm waters. The more you let go, the more profound your sense of inner stillness grew. You felt the weight of your worries begin to dissolve. The burdens of your leadership, of the mind-flayer tadpoles and the problems that came with it seemed to retreat into the distance, leaving you with a newfound clarity. 

"Good," Astarion whispered. "Now, focus on your body. Notice any tension, any discomfort. Let it go with each breath. Feel your body becoming lighter, more at ease." 

Minutes passed like hours, and the tent seemed to fill with an ethereal stillness. You and Astarion remained connected through your breath, it was as if time itself had become irrelevant, and you were both suspended in a moment of pure existence. 

You could feel the tension in your shoulders and neck melting away. It was as if the cares of the world were simply slipping through your fingers. 

Slipping... 

Slipping...  

“...Darling? Are you-? Oh.” 

Astarion’s eyes widen, and he winces a little when your head falls into his shoulder. He catches you gently by the arms, so you don’t slip and go face-first into his lap; it was a delicious thought but for another time, when you were conscious and ready.  

But right now, he isn’t quite sure what to do with you. He certainly knows he can’t hold you like this all night; it would be uncomfortable for both of you. His eyebrows crease as he frowns while he tries to slowly lower you to the ground. 

To absolutely no avail; unconsciously you end up pulling him in closer. 

“Oh, for Gods's sake,” the vampire huffs incredulously. “What am I, some sort of glorified teddy bear?” 

Half-asleep and still nestled into Astarion’s chest, you mumble something incoherent in response, your breath warm against his skin. You snuggle even closer, your head burrowing into the crook of his neck. 

For a moment, Astarion felt a flicker of irritation, his desire for a good night's rest warring with his affection for you. He yearned to stretch out, to find the perfect position that would allow him the bliss of undisturbed meditation. But as he looked down at the peaceful expression on your face, all traces of weariness and anxiety erased, he just couldn't bring himself to disturb you. 

Reluctantly, he wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer still. He could feel the gentle rise and fall of your breath, the slow, rhythmic cadence of sleep. The warmth of your body against his own gradually seeped through the cracks in his defences, and his irritation gave way to an overwhelming tenderness. 

In that moment, he realised that the inconvenience of being your living pillow was a small price to pay for the privilege of holding you close, of being the one you sought comfort in. As you drifted further into slumber, Astarion closed his eyes and surrendered to the serenity of the night, the gentle weight of your devotion for each other enveloping you both, anchoring him in the moment and reminding him of the beauty in life's simple, sweet sacrifices. 

xxx 

Yyyyyeah I know this one has the same beats as 'Everything's Fine' but what can I say? I'm a sucker for begrudgingly soft Astarion ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Let me know what y'all think!

Links to my other Astarion works

'Everything's Fine'

Request - Astarion kills everyone in his path to get to you

[faewoozi]

--- insomnia ft! woozi x reader ( 18+ )

summary: you need to pull an all-nighter for a contest in order to win a brand new car. your neighbor jihoon is the king of insomniacs and vows to do whatever it takes to keep you awake.

♡ pairing: neighbor! jihoon x fem! reader

♡ genre: smut ( the plot is razor thin lol )

♡ rating: 18+

♡ word count: 4.5k or so

♡ this work feats: oral ( giving & receiving ), unprotected sex, cream pie, rough sex, slight distracted sex, mild biting, mild edging, please if you need me to tag anything else let me know.

"we've got everything set up. now remember the rules. a picture has to be uploaded of your face within two minutes of whenever we message you and a video message has to be sent when we send the notification. the contest resumes now from 7pm until 7am the next morning. we've already verified that you've been awake since ten this morning. only the person you put down on the list is allowed to come over -- and so there's no cheating we've set up a little camera outside as well. other than that let the contest begin!"

the producer hung up from the video call and you found yourself staring at the array of sugary snacks and coffee drinks on the table in front of you. this was going to be difficult. you were a in bed by nine type. sleep meant more to you than most things, usually because of the grueling twelve hour shifts you worked. tiredness had already begun weighing on you and the contest had only really been going half the day which didn't bode well. now you had finally entered the home stretch but it would mean nothing if you failed. for two weeks

you'd been forced to rideshare to work and you hated it. you hadn't been on time since because of it, which left you pretty desperate for a new car. the old one had finally decided to quit and the pennies you'd gotten for it were hardly enough to pay the rent. in your desperation you signed up for this contest a friend sent over in jest. because internet contest could not be trusted. at worst you'd fail and would return to saving towards a new vehicle. or it'd be a scam that led you to waste your time. at best you'd win a new car and have a cool story to tell.

what did you have to lose? the contest had been going all week. you breezed through almost all the challenges given to you unaware until today that they had been drawn up specifically to wear you out. this was the ultimate test -- after many a game of marathons and treasure hunts exhaustion had set in. now you had to fight through all that to the finish line and luckily you weren't required to do it alone. you were allowed one other person who might be able to assist with keeping you awake. to avoid liabilities the producers said. and after thinking about it a few days there was really only one candidate for the job. you definitely weren't calling in family or best friends in on this. they'd make you fail just because it was funny.

jihoon, your neighbor was an expert insomniac. you were pretty sure what little sleep he did get happened in ten minute intervals. there had never been a time where the sound of the car door closing hadn't made him appear unless he wasn't home. it was like a pavlovian response. a car door would close and look there's jihoon in the window waving. it happened when you left for work in the morning. when you came home from a late night out. it even happened that one time you went to urgent care at like four am. like clockwork there he'd be, saying hi or offering to come over and hang out. the urgent care incident actually resulted in him driving you there because he couldn't sleep anyway. so naturally what better partner to have for the contest than someone who didn't seem to need sleep?

jihoon promised once he got home around eleven he'd head straight to your place and help you through the whole thing. you informed him that he'd need to bring whatever tricks he had up his sleeve because you were exhausted and he swore he had the best remedy for keeping you focused and alert. he didn't elaborate and a part of you felt extremely nervous. what if he wanted you to do something insane? ice baths had come up in conversation with him once. it was too late to ponder on bad decision making and vague promises though because you had to check in with the producers. pajama shorts were thrown on. emergency alarms were set. and as required you sent the message and performed the video call. first few hours down.

11pm.

“you can’t be serious!” jihoon stood in the entrance of your place staring at you utterly confused and slightly amused in a t-shirt and shorts.

“about what? i just got here.” he questioned, smoothing his hair back and brushing past you into the kitchen.

“you said you had dozens of ways to keep me awake! yet you show up empty handed. did you forget?” you were doing your absolute best to remain calm, he was doing you a favor after all. arguing was a sure fire way to have him turn around and say screw it. but you needed this car and he didn’t have so much as a backpack on him.

“one — there are no rules that say i can’t go back home to get what i need. i do live right next door. two — who says i don’t have everything i need right here?” he gestured vaguely to himself and with hands full of at least five different things from the fridge he made himself comfortable on the couch. you trailed after him even more confused because what in the world did that mean? he was making zero sense. 

“ohhh-kayyyy are you planning on sitting on my head or something because i’m pretty sure i’ll actually pass out. which is the opposite of what we want.”

this prompted him to smile, his head falling back against a couch cushion as he made himself comfortable. he propped his legs up and set his phone against them. "just tell me when you're getting tired. i've got a plan."

classic jihoon vagueness. great. you took a seat next to him, face twisted in thought as you considered having him help you now or later. you would choose now. only because you wanted to see if putting stock in him would be worth it. or if you needed desperately to chug as much caffeine as possible without sending yourself into cardiac arrest. then you'd know how to play the rest of the night. if he was going to be no help it was better to know now. "fine. I'm feeling tired now. right now." you said, shit eating grin in place. jihoon glanced at you and nodded setting his phone to the side. if he was annoyed he didn’t show. in fact he looked almost…eager but once he caught you looking he schooled his face back to being as neutral and nonchalant as it normally was.

"alright. come here." jihoon gestured for you to come sit next to him on the couch with an authoritative crook of his finger. you did as instructed and he eased himself down onto the floor to your confusion. popping up on his knees. without warning he took hold of your left leg throwing it over his shoulder and his free hand came to grip your right thigh. "you seem awake now. are you focused? alert?" he asked with laughter in his voice, no doubt because you were in absolute shock. frozen in place just letting him maneuver your leg over his shoulder as if this was a casual thing you two did everyday. this was NOT a part of the plan. jihoon was attractive -- this could not be denied -- but he always seemed…unattainable. you were friends and neighbors sure, and there had been that one time you both came ridiculously close to sleeping together but jihoon lived a busy life. after that night it didn't seem likely to happen it again. things had only resulted in a make out session. after that there just never seemed to be enough time. and jihoon seemed as if maybe he lost interest but it was always incredibly difficult to tell. jihoon liked holding all his cards close to the chest. it was hard to tell what he was thinking sometimes and that couldn't ring more true than right in this moment. because no one could’ve predicted this. "you're not answering me." he chastised in a sing sing voice.

he flashed a smile, and then let his teeth scrape along the length of your thigh. he did this for several moments testing the feel of it in different areas until he found a spot he liked. his tongue slid across the area in one languid stroke. then his teeth sunk into your skin and you could feel his tongue swirl around where he'd just bitten you sucking on the spot gently to soothe the pain. you should probably tell him to stop. there was a brief attempt to stifle a moan on your end because that would be embarrassing right? but jihoon pulled back -- his gaze was more intense than you'd ever seen it before. "how am I supposed to know you're awake if I can't hear you?" his mouth moved to a different spot on your thigh and his teeth were out again, ready to mark somewhere different. 

"wait!" you said in a panic attempting to wrest back control of the situation. jihoon paused, eyebrows raised in question. "what are you doing?" you demanded lamely, because you had no idea what else to say. this was beyond the scope of how you imagined the night would go.

"keeping you awake." jihoon answered. "do you not want me to?" that was a loaded question if there ever was one. on the one hand, in the light of day thinking back on this would undoubtedly have you either cringing or horny. it's not that you didn't want him to. just -- your brain zeroed out. what reason was there to stop this? considering it almost happened once before. clearly this was his way of saying the attraction hadn't faded. but there was saying it, and then there was this.

jihoon let out a small sigh, he seemed slightly impatient -- he slid from beneath your leg and resumed his position on the couch with a shrug when you didn't answer right away. "let me know If you get tired again."

12am.

your eyes felt heavy. you took a sip from the coffee mug in your hand. you put way too much creamer in it, mainly because you'd been distracted. a little hickey had begun to form on your thigh where jihoon left his mark. you couldn't stop glancing at it. you couldn't stop thinking about the feel of his teeth on your skin. he seemed relatively unbothered by the whole affair. falling right back to normal like he sucked on thighs at random whenever. he sent you funny videos. took pictures with you to send to his friends. made you listen to a song he wrote and ordered food when his snack pile ran out. you spent that entire time in search of some sign that you weren't losing your mind. worst of all was that he wasn't letting the idea of helping you go. every once in awhile he'd glance up at you and ask. "tired?" to which you'd promptly blurt out you were fine.

you were not fine. you were tired. and the coffee wasn't helping. being on high alert was draining you faster than anything else at this point. you needed to relax. so your neighbor and friend decided the best way to help you was immediately to get a little sexual. was that so bad? it was working! you were certainly wide awake. it also helped that said friend and neighbor was attractive. he smelled good. and even that brief encounter with his mouth promised he had a skillset you would thoroughly enjoy if you let him continue. if this happened and then nothing else ever happened again that would be okay right? it would be devastating and mildly mortifying. but good decisions are not made at 12:32 am. it didn't have to be awkward. you wouldn’t have to move and never show your face again. of course not. if nothing else jihoon was respectful. he didn’t push. he didn’t prod. he asked a simple question every now and again and you just needed to give a simple answer. yes. or no.

“tired?” as if reading your mind, jihoon was staring at you.

slowly you nodded your head. “yeah. I think I am. can you help?”

“of course.” for a moment nothing happened. jihoon just stared, you could see the gears turning in his head as he looked you over. his gaze drifted slowly across your bare thighs, lingered between your legs, up your stomach, across your chest and on your neck. this was not a gentle stare. this was a smouldering inspection. a predator picking where to begin the hunt. this was dangerous, but the door had been opened and you were much too curious to close it now. how far was he willing to take this? how far would you allow it to go? his staring had finally caught up to your face and it seemed he had made a decision. he stood crossing over to where you sat in an armchair — much too nervous to join him on the couch after the thigh hickey — and the his finger was under your chin. he tilted your head up as he crouched down slightly his lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss.

he watched you through half-closed eyes as his lips caressed yours. you responded with total submission—mouth open, body limp, fingers digging into his scalp in a sad attempt to control yourself.  he was going to drive you crazy. the taste of his mouth, his scent, his warm body against yours, the barely perceptible sound of longing he made in the back of his throat. his tongue brushed your lip. your body tensed as if you’d been struck by lightning. he withdrew his tongue, coaxing it into your mouth with gentle strokes. you eagerly followed, caressing his lips with the tip of your tongue, and then touched your tongue with his. when his tongue tentatively caressed yours in return, your eyes drifted closed. after several moments, he pulled away and gazed at you in the low light coming from overhead.

“tired?” his voice held a heat and he seemed to be physically keeping himself from diving right back onto your mouth, not that you wouldn’t welcome it.

“no. i’m awake.” you answered. he nodded taking your hand, he kissed the inside of your wrist gently. he flicked his tongue against the inside of your wrist suggestively while looking up at you. your fingers curled involuntarily and your nipples hardened beneath your thin t-shirt. seemingly satisfied with that response, jihoon stood to his feet and returned back to the couch.

“let me know when you’re feeling tired again.”

1am.

okay. this was kind of wild. the plan was working. you'd successfully checked in dozen of times and so far so good. you definitely weren’t tired. how could you be? somehow jihoon had set every nerve in your body on fire and if he didn’t put said fire out you would explode. or at the very least jump him as if things weren’t already deranged enough. but he had put you under some spell. because you had spent the last hour obsessing over the way he kissed you. it had been tender, and hot, and deeply sensual. the awkwardness no longer revolved around the fact that he was completely okay with kissing you in a variety of places apparently; no, now the awkwardness came because even though you certainly weren’t tired at all you were going to pretend otherwise. you brought your hand to your mouth pretending to stifle a yawn as you and jihoon stared at some horrific movie on the tv. he shifted from where he’d been leaning against the arm of the couch.

“you seem tired.” he stated looking you over as if to visually confirm this assessment. you couldn’t brag about your acting skills but damn it you were going to do your best. you let your body slump some like it was too heavy to hold up and pretended to yawn once again.

“mm, i guess so. can you help?” you were peeking at him in earnest, all innocence and desperation. whatever he saw was enough to have him scooting closer to you, and you certainly weren’t going to let him see how happy that made you. instead you stiffened, that was real — because he had just pushed your legs apart and settled himself in between them. 

heat trailed up the side of your neck as he leaned in. a gentle suction just under your ear drew a shudder from your body. you gave yourself over to the feel of his mouth against your skin and the warm strength of his hard body on top of yours. the backs of his fingers brushed over the bare skin just beneath your navel. your body tensed with need. his fingers slid beneath the waistband of your panties, teasing curls of hair as he sought your clit. swollen. how had he gotten you so worked up so quickly? his fingers stroked you with the speed, pressure, and rhythm required to bring you to orgasm in seconds. that was a skill you hadn't expected. he moved swift, not hesitating for a moment as he rubbed at the sensitive bud while still kissing and sucking at your neck.

you moaned as your body convulsed with release. you’d  never climaxed so quickly in your life. you pushed yourself up onto your elbows, to seek his mouth with yours while reaching for him. your hand finding the warm skin of his arm. he sat back on his haunches and pulled his shirt off over his head. somewhere in the background of your breathing you heard your phone. you should probably respond, there was a car to think about after all. but then again his hand was suddenly cupping your breast through your shirt. and the car was the last thing on your mind.

you smiled and your hand slid between both your bodies, cupping his erection through his pants. oh yes, well endowed indeed. your entire body throbbed. jihoon caught your hand to prevent you from stroking him, but didn’t move it away.

“i’m supposed to be keeping you awake.” he said, attempting to resume what he was doing.

“this is keeping me awake. i’m not tired at all.” you stated before catching yourself. jihoon raised an eyebrow at you.

“well if you’re not tired then maybe…”

“if we stop, the moment i win this car i will use it to run you over.” you threatened clearly unhappy with the idea of pausing things here. you scrambled backwards grabbing your phone and took a moment to send the reply and performed the requisite video call with only seconds to spare all the while still holding jihoon's cock in hand as if letting it go might give him the idea to end things here. once you set your phone down, he gently pried your hand free. still shirtless, he rose to his feet. he was walking backwards right to your bedroom with full expectation for you to follow.

“where are you going?”

“to the bed. i’m tired now. i think you were planning on a way to keep me up.” he said in a teasing voice and you were on your feet in moments. jihoon had impressed you with his skill set. you were prepared to return the favor.

2am.

he was waiting on the edge of the bed. waiting to see what you would do. you wasted no time dropping to your knees as you unfastened his belt buckle and untied the drawstring on his shorts before freeing his cock from the confines of his boxers. at the sight of his thick erection, your pussy twitched with longing. you couldn’t wait to taste him, to run your tongue along the rim of the enlarged head. you tore your gaze from his cock to look at him. his face had gone slightly red. he was breathing heavy in anticipation. his hand came up gently settling on the top of your head. he carded his fingers tenderly through your hair. no pressure -- he could wait.

you kissed the tip, sucking one side gently, and then moved away to peel his shorts and boxers off in one sweep. you paused, glancing up at jihoon uncertainly. he had propped a pillow against the headboard and leaned back, spreading his legs, trusting you with his most sensitive areas without hesitation.

“what’s wrong?” jihoon asked gently stroking your arm as you climbed up onto the bed. “it’s okay if you don’t want to…”

but you did want to. you ran your hands up the insides of his thighs and spread his legs further apart. you cupped his balls in one hand, finding them full and tight, the skin cool to the touch. jihoon gasped. gently you raked your fingernails over his scrotum, and then lowered your head to draw the loose skin into your mouth, sucking and licking his flesh until his entire body tensed. you nipped the wrinkled skin with your teeth. jihoon jerked.

“shit.” the word came out half a moan and half a hiss.

when his body relaxed again, you lifted your head and took his cock in your mouth, sucking him deep into your throat. you swallowed. jihoon groaned. you sucked hard as you pulled back, and rubbed the rim of the head with your tongue before drawing away completely. jihoon grunted in protest when he fell free of your mouth. you blew a breath of cool air over the moistened tip. he sucked a breath through his teeth. you hummed in satisfaction, and then lowered your head to suck on the skin of his scrotum again.

you released his flesh from your mouth and touched his cock with your fingertips. it jumped in response.

“please,” he begged. “suck me. god. please.” you lowered your head further, tonguing the crease of skin between his balls once more in answer before moving to take his cock in your mouth.

you cupped his balls in one hand, massaging gently as you drew his cock in and out of your mouth, applying the most suction at its head as you let it fall from your lips, and then you’d take it within again. by the hitch in his breathing, you could tell he was close. you wanted him to come in your mouth. wanted to taste him. swallow him. make his body spasm with release. you drew back and bobbed your head up and down rapidly as you sucked. your lips bumped over the sensitive rim faster and faster. one hand held the base of his cock firmly so you could concentrate on your technique, the other continued to massage his balls gently. his groans of pleasure encouraged you to suck harder, move faster. his hand on your head was gentle but keeping you in place. the order was clear. do. not. stop.

you knew he was holding back a bit, selfishly trying to prolong his pleasure. you didn’t mind. you loved a challenge. you wriggled your tongue against the underside of his cock as you sucked him deep. when he was buried deep in your throat again, you hummed softly and hollowed out your cheeks increasing in tempo again. that was all it took. he grabbed your hair as his hips bucked off the mattress and he bathed the back of your throat with his cum.

you smiled, sucking him and swallowing his offering until he stopped spurting. when his body went limp, you released his cock from your mouth and collapsed beside him, breathing hard to catch your breath.

“you seem awake now. focused. alert.” you teased, throwing his earlier words back at him. but jihoon wasn’t laughing. something dark had come over his face and he rolled over pulling you towards him. you let out a surprised yelp as he hovered over you pinning you in place. he stripped you of your shirt and shorts, pressing you down flat on your back. he stroked your nipple with his fingertips, drawing it to a hardened bud. he lowered his head, flicked the taunt tip with his tongue and then sucked it into his mouth. he sucked hard, stroking the underside of your nipple and breast with his tongue.

you let out a soft gasp. he repeated the treatment again. his mouth left a trail of wet kisses along the underside of your breast as he alternated between them. his tongue trailed across your ribs to the center of your stomach, and then down to your navel. he dipped his tongue into your bellybutton rhythmically, causing a flood of heat between your thighs. you throbbed with need, craving that thrusting rhythm within. you found yourself biting your lip so none of that came up and out in the frenzy of pleasure jihoon was doling out.

he wrapped a hand around each leg, just above your knees and spread your legs wide. his hair brushed the insides of your thighs as he lowered his head. he sucked your clit into his mouth and stroked it with the tip of his tongue. so his hands. his mouth. both weapons. clearly a man of many talents. jihoon licked and sucked without hesitation seemingly enjoying himself as his hand spread across your stomach holding you firmly in place. your pussy throbbed in protest of its neglect. you wanted him inside you so bad. his big, beautiful cock pounding you fast and hard. you couldn’t take any more. you had to have him.

fisting a handful of his hair, you directed his head away from between your legs. he glanced up slightly perturbed and answered a question you hadn’t even asked. “not yet. i’m not done.” his head dipped back down and you couldn’t stand it. now it was your turn to beg.

“please jihoon. fuck me, right now.” that caught his attention he pulled himself back and you could see the shift in attention to you, had given him a chance to recover. his erection sat bouncing firmly between his legs and you swallowed wondering if he’d give you what you wanted.

“no.” a simple answer, and he said it with such a smug look that you considered kneeing him in the face on principle. but that was a bratty response one that you were certain could lead to interesting results but not right now. “five minutes.” he murmured lowering his head between your legs once more. he drew his tongue along the inside of your labia, flicked it across your anus and then trailed it back up the other side.

he sucked your clit back into his mouth and your hips bucked involuntarily. while he sucked you and stroked you with his tongue, his fingers traced the rim of your opening, never dipping inside, just teasing you to the point of tears. he kept you at the brink of orgasm. whenever your breath would hitch as you approached release, he’d pause in his torment until you settled down again.

when it felt like your bones were melting in on themselves and you were no longer yourself, he relented. he slid two fingers inside you and you couldn’t help but cry out, your back arching. he curled his fingers and pressed up inside you, slowly withdrawing until you screamed with release. he rubbed and hooked his fingers against that wall of pleasure inside until your legs trembled and your thighs clamped together over his hand. after a moment of marveling you slowly found yourself relaxing your legs from around his hand. his head popped up, chin resting on your thigh and he was grinning.

“good. you’re awake.” he teased. “i’m not done.”

3am.

he climbed back up the bed and settled his narrow hips between your thighs. he rocked his hips forward, probing for your opening without using his hands for guidance. when he found you, he slid into you slowly, holding your shoulders as he burrowed deeper and deeper. his strokes were slow and deep. slow and deep. slow and deep. stretching you wide, withdrawing. he more than filled you. his quiet gasps in your ear sent your lust spiraling out of control. your hands moved to his ass, digging into his flesh as you bucked your hips against him. his gasps grew shaky and punctuated. his strokes faster and harder. and harder. and harder. the headboard rattled.

he dragged you sideways across the bed, turning you partially on your side, so that he straddled one of your legs. he wrapped your other leg around his waist.

“jihoon,” you gasped at the change in stimulation. you liked that too. he thrust into you, biting his lip as he pounded against you. soon his hard thrusts pushed you beyond the edge of the bed. you caught yourself with your hand to keep from tumbling to the floor.

“shit,” he growled, and pulled you back up onto the bed. “i can’t seem to get deep enough. I want… I need…” he gasped and ground his hips as he pushed you. his fingers dug into your hips and held you steady, seeking to possess you fully.

 “i’ll try.” you pushed him onto his back and sighed in frustration when he slid out of you. you hurried to straddle his hips and sank down on his thick cock, taking him as deep as he would go, stretched to your limits. your head tilted back in ecstasy. his hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you down, urging your body to take more of him.

“deeper,” he groaned. you bounced against him, taking him a centimeter at a time until, at last, you had accepted all of him.

“fuck. now i’m yours.”  he whispered, looking up at you through heavy eyelids. his fingers traced paths up and down your spine, making you shudder. you rode him in earnest. lifting your hips and grinding downward, gyrating to stimulate your clit against his pubic bone, you used him for your pleasure, practically ignoring his needs. an orgasm rippled through you and you cried out, but didn’t stop. again. you wanted to come again with him inside you. you took him faster, rotating slightly with each downward stroke. you weren’t sure when you started chanting his name.

“jihoon...” after your second orgasm? his hips rose off the bed to meet your strokes. he bit his lip, his head tossed back. watching his expression was almost better than the waves of pleasure coursing through your own body.

“fuck, fuck,” he shouted, and grabbed you firmly by the hips to stop your gyrating thrusts. “stop, stop. give me a minute.”

“no.” it was your turn not to listen. but jihoon went to the gym. you did  too…sometimes…wait when did you go last? he had the upper hand, completely bringing you to a stop.

“fuck. not yet. not yet.” he pulled you off him and tossed you onto your back in the center of the bed. “shit, shit, i’m going to fucking lose it.” was he about to come? he rolled on top of you and slid inside you again. his eyes drifted closed. his back arched, rubbing your belly against his. the fingers of his left hand tapped rhythmically against your shoulder. his strokes were different this time, a three-quarter time beat, if you weren’t mistaken, and he was humming under his breath.

“jihoon what are you —“ you asked. but he didn’t answer. something had shifted in him. you closed your eyes and concentrated on the perfect rhythm of his deep strokes. the riff he was humming in your ear was outstanding. you’d never heard anything like it before, and it suddenly dawned on you what he was doing. “are you writing music?”

he glanced down at you. his mouth seeking purchase on yours. he kissed you until you were forced to pull away for a breath. the entire time he was humming the melody, and suddenly the humming stilled like he’d reached the end of the song, or his inspiration. he leaned forward to squeeze your breasts and pinch your nipples as he deserted his music-writing tempo for quick shallow strokes. his moans grew louder and louder as he gave himself over to pleasure. with one final deep thrust, he cried out, your name tumbling from his lips. he grasped your hips and held you still, grinding deeply until his spasms calmed.

he pulled out and collapsed on the bed beside you, eyes closed, breathing hard.

“what time is it?” you asked certain that the time that took up had certainly disqualified you. worth it, but still you felt a little bummed.

“i owe you a car.” jihoon said casually rolling over to kiss you reverently. he shifted slightly and threw an arm across you pulling you flush against him. two minutes later you realized he had fallen asleep.

later he’d tell you it was the best sleep he’s had in years.

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 83

Geralt hasn't been sleeping in weeks. Okay, so he's clearly nodded off a few times to stay alive and sane, but he's trying his best to never sleep again. Every time he closes his eyes, he dreams of him and Jaskier. The first dream he had was innocent enough. It was him and Jaskier eating at an inn. The next dream was them in a forest, during the sunset. Jaskier leaned on Geralt, and wrapped himself around Geralt's arm, before pointing to the sky. The next dream was when the problems started. Geralt was coming back from a hunt, he didn't dream the hunt, but he knew he had hunted. Geralt walks into their camp, and Jaskier runs to him, leaping at him with an embrace. Jaskier hugs him close, as to not drop him. Jaskier looks at him, and suddenly Geralt can pay attention to nothing but the fact Jaskier's lips are on him. They're kissing. Every dream after that is romantic, and Geralt can't handle it. Jaskier and him are eating outside - Sure, fine, whatever - But then Geralt says something and Jaskier laughs and then pulls him into a kiss. Geralt play-chasing Jaskier around their inn room before they both fall into bed, laughing. Jaskier looks lovely in his nightshirt, and Geralt can't help but want to see it ride up and expose his midriff. Jaskier singing with Geralt's head in his lap. Geralt can't remember any of the words. Despite knowing he can't write songs, thus his subconscious shouldn't be able to, he still feels like it's one of Jaskier's songs, and the fact it's lost forever pains him in a weird way. Jaskier braiding flowers into Geralt's hair. Geralt feels especially guilty after waking up from this one. Real Jaskier has stated multiple times his want to do such a thing, and Geralt always vehemently denied. Jaskier sobbing in an inn room, only to turn and embrace Geralt with joy. "Oh, Geralt! You're alright! Why are you so late!?!" Geralt has no idea what's going on, but he feels horrible. He apologizes to his bard, and kisses his temple. And then the damned dreams started getting... Even harder to deal with. A memory of Jaskier bathing in a stream, but instead of turning his head like he did at the time, Dream Geralt walks into the water and- Nope. Nope. No. Jaskier on his knees, looking up at Geralt through his lashes, as Geralt reaches for his belt- Nope, nope, nope, nope. Jaskier dressed up all pretty for him. Geralt wants to take his stockings off with his teeth- Nope, nopenopenopenopenopenope! These were highly inappropriate dreams to be having about his best friend. His best friend he's going to meet back up with tomorrow. Fuck.

[flagellant]

[demont0es]

Demontoes presents…

Five Nighst at Freddy's: Insomniac!

The Prologue, Gone are the Days, is out!

More info below cut!!

Insomniac is my FNaF AU about Michael Afton that I’ve been wanting to do something with for a while now and I’m only now getting around to officially doing that! I’ve started writing Insomniac up on AO3 for everyone to read and enjoy!

If you’re interested in reading the prologue for Insomniac, you can find it here!

[edsbug]

Moonlight

pairing: eddie munson x gn!reader

summary: eddie helps you find comfort on a restless night (wc: 1k)

contains: reader has a bout of insomnia, eddie sings to reader, hurt/comfort (emphasis on the comfort), fluff, eddie being a sweetheart

author’s notes: i have been struggling a bit lately and wrote this to make myself feel better. i hope it may help others too<3

The room was steeped in shadows, the only light coming from the faint sliver of moonlight peeking through the curtains. Eddie lay sprawled across his bed, his unruly hair fanned out on the pillow, his breathing deep and even, lost in the realms of sleep. You, however, were wide awake, your mind refusing to quiet down.

Eddie's room was a blend of chaos and comfort, stacks of well-worn magazines, band posters covering the walls, and a full ashtray on the nightstand. You stared at the ceiling, counting the cracks in the plaster, the ticking of the clock growing louder with each passing minute. You didn't want to wake Eddie, knowing how little sleep he often got.

It had been a week since you got a decent nights sleep. The room feels like a silent witness to your restlessness. The minutes drag on, and each glance at the clock only heightens your anxiety. You try to focus on Eddie's calm presence beside you, hoping his tranquility might somehow seep into you. But instead, you become acutely aware of every small sound — the ticking of a distant clock, the faint hum of the refrigerator, the occasional creak of the trailer settling.

As you lay there, the frustration of not being able to sleep begins to build. Every time you close your eyes, your mind races with a cascade of thoughts, each one more persistent than the last. You replay the events of the day, worry about tomorrow, and ponder the meaning of fleeting moments that now seem monumental in the quiet darkness.

After what feels like hours of tossing and turning, you decide to slip out of bed, hoping some movement might help clear your head. Carefully, you begin to inch your way out from under the covers, moving with precision. But as you swing your legs over the side of the bed, the mattress creaks slightly, and you hear a soft murmur behind you.

You freeze, holding your breath, but it’s too late. Eddie stirs, his eyes fluttering open. “Hey,” he mumbles, his voice thick with sleep. “Where’re you going?”

Caught, you sigh and turn to face him. “I’m sorry, Eddie. I didn’t mean to wake you. I just… I can’t sleep.”

Eddie blinks a few times, shaking off the remnants of his dream. He props himself up on one elbow, worry etching lines into his forehead. “Come back to bed,” he says softly, patting the space beside him.

You hesitate, but the concerned look in his eyes and the warmth of his voice are too inviting to resist. You climb back into bed, and Eddie immediately wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. The scent of his skin, a mix of soap and his cologne, fills your senses, grounding you.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks softly, his lips brushing your forehead.

You lean into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. “I’m not sure. A bit of everything. I just can’t seem to turn my mind off.”

Eddie chuckled softly, his breath warm against your ear. "Sounds familiar. You know, I have a trick for that."

"What trick?"

He reluctantly untangled himself from you and slid out of bed. You watched as he scurried towards the living room. After a moment, he came back with a vinyl record, glancing at it with a small smile before moving to his record player tucked away in the corner of his room. "This," he said, holding up the record, "is one of my uncle's favorites. Always helps me relax."

He carefully placed the record on the turntable, the needle finding its groove with a soft crackle. The room filled with the warm, mellow sounds of a classic rock ballad, the kind that seemed to wrap around you like a comforting blanket.

Eddie returned to the bed, climbing back under the covers and pulling you close.

"There. Just listen to the music. Let it carry you away."

You nestled against him, feeling the vibrations of the music seep into your bones. The gentle strumming of the guitar and the soothing vocals eased the tension in your body.

Eddie began softly humming along to the music, his voice a soothing lullaby. His hand traced lazy patterns on your back, his calloused fingertips grounding you.

"I don't know what l'd do without you," you whispered, your voice trembling.

Eddie pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his hands. His eyes, full of love, met yours. "You'll never have to find out, because I'm not going anywhere.”

He leaned in, kissing you softly, and for a moment, the world outside ceased to exist. It was just you and Eddie, wrapped in each other's arms, safe from the chaos.

Eddie's humming turned into soft singing, his voice low and melodic, blending seamlessly with the gentle strumming of the guitar. You closed your eyes and let the melody wash over you. Your racing thoughts began to slow, the worries of the day fading into the background.

Eddie's presence, steady and unwavering, was a beacon in the dark. He had a way of making you feel safe, even when your mind was in turmoil. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the music.

He pressed a kiss to your temple. "Anytime. I'm here, always."

Minutes passed, the music weaving its magic. You felt the edges of sleep begin to creep in, your mind finally quieting. Eddie continued his gentle ministrations, his fingers brushing through your hair, his breath even and calming.

You sighed, your body relaxing completely for the first time in days. "I think it’s working," you mumbled, feeling sleep pull you under.

Eddie chuckled softly. "Good. Just keep listening. I'll be right here."

And with that promise, you finally let go, surrendering to the gentle embrace of sleep. The music, Eddie's voice, and the shared quiet moment between you created a perfect harmony, one that carried you into a deep, restful slumber.

As you drift off to sleep, Eddie’s voice is the last thing you hear, a promise in the dark. “I’ll always be here for you sweetheart. Sweet dreams.”

[sassy-stupid]

A little Xavier drabble based on my earlier post. It's about 400 words

You'd be the first to admit that it had been a while since you'd gotten enough rest. What can you say, though? Hunter business was booming in all the worst ways.

It wasn't just you this recent increase in monsters had been affecting. Nero and Tara had been putting in extra hours and even Xavier had put in overtime. The latter resulting in barely there bags under his eyes, on his otherwise perfect complexion.

Speaking of your neighbor, he was right in front of your door as you opened it to rush to work.

"Ah, you're awake? Good," he says, the tone of his voice neutral, as always, yet you pick up on the sleepiness laced through it. There's no mistaking it, Xavier only just rolled out of bed.

"Hey Xavier, wanna carpool?" You ask, trying to step past him. He blocks your path, even goes as far as to wrap his arm around you to keep you from slipping past him.

"Jenna called. She told us to take the day off. Another unit will be filling in for us in fear of overworking the unicorns," he explains.

Unsatisfied with that explanation, you still try to push past him. "Well, I'm up now anyway, might as well kill some wanderers."

He leans against you, his weight paired with the arm keeping you pressed against him pushes you back inside your apartment, and he somehow manages to close the door behind him.

"Oh no," you can almost hear that sneaky little grin in his voice. "Gravity," he leans onto you with even more weight, and it's all you can do to stumble to the couch, trying not to fall to the floor. "It's increasing on me."

"Xavier!" You protest. "No, it is not!" You try to push one last time, but he just lets himself fall against you again, successfully making both of you drop onto the couch.

"Is too, (y/n), the same thing happened yesterday" with both of you laying on the couch, though with him still enforcing his 'increased gravity' on you, you could see his face again. He DID have that smug little grin on his face. "The wanderers almost got me because of it. You simply must indulge me and nap with me, or it may cost me my life."

With a huff, a frown, and a yawn, you end up complying. And with a heated and weighted Xavier blanket on you, you doze off fairly quick.

[lyrichi]

Imagine being mc, and you're just chilling in your kitchen cause you live alone. You're in your i-woke-up-to-be-here fit, glasses off and retainers out, hair out of the way messily yet conveniently. And you're just standing in the middle of your kitchen, small pot in your left hand and a wood spoon in your right.

Eating some pasta quietly with the same utensils you used to make the pasta so you didn't have to wash more dishes by putting it in a bowl and getting a fork. Then suddenly you're teleported somewhere that isn't your bland apartment kitchen with buzzing white lights above you. It takes you a minute to realise that anything has happened, shoveling your tasty homemade pasta into your mouth with a wooden spoon.

You look up, making eye contact with some dude with his arms crossed, his hair short and black, and standing about half a foot taller than you. At least that was what you could make out through blurry vision. Pasta strands hanging from your mouth, you eat them quickly while staring directly at this man whom you find conventionally attractive despite just meeting him, if you would even call this a meeting.

Your voice somewhat hoarse from not talking for about two and a half days and from eating off of a wooden spoon, you speak in a tone that is almost sarcastic, yet is questioning. You sound neutral, being caught like a deer in headlights in your most nobody's-gonna-see-me state.

"Who the fuck're you?" You'd say, blinking a few times and having to force your eyes to adjust to the shift in lighting that you had only now noticed, and your voice slightly muffled from the pasta sauce stuck to the roof of your mouth. Your organs rolling like a rotisserie chicken in confusion, almost making your stomach hurt.

You settle your right hand, loosely placing the wooden spoon into the pot, it being about half full of hot-n-ready pasta. Your left wrist feels sore from holding up the pot, but in your delayed confusion you barely feel it, doing mental gymnastics in order to figure out where the fuck you had ended up.

You just wanted some pasta. Now where were you?