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ejunkiet · 10 months

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you’ve got red on you

prompt fill for the wonderful @pinksparkl about Milo’s reaction to Sweetheart having a panic attack in front of him for the first time.

(special bonus points to anyone who recognises the title >:3)

redacted audio: milo/sweetheart, rated teen. cw: panic attacks

Milo comforts his mate after a panic attack. - “I’ve got you, sweetheart. You’re okay. Just- breathe.”

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you’ve got red on you

All it takes is a moment of distraction while he’s prepping dinner for his grip on the kitchen knife to slip, the sharp edge slicing across his palm and sending the half-chopped vegetables scattering. “Shit!”

“Milo?”

“S’all good, sweetheart. Just, fucked up with the knife.” It’s an understatement, considering the state of the counters, the blood welling from the cut in his palm spilling over onto the hardwood. Goddamnit. He knew better than to get distracted while using the good knife. Christ, the shit his mother would give him over this-

He wraps his hand in a dishcloth before he stumbles over to the sink, a litany of curses falling from his tongue as he fumbles the taps to turn on the water.

He glances up to find the shape of his mate in the doorway, their features shadowed by the busted light in the hall he’d been meaning to fix before they came over. “What happened?”

“Nothing, just me being a fuckin’ idiot.”

They take a step further into the room, their eyes focused on the bloody dishcloth, and they’re not saying anything, although they look - strange. Off. As if they’re feeling sick.

He sees it when their hands start to shake, their breaths coming fast and shallow, as if they can’t get enough air. The way their eyes lose focus, pupils dilating, even as their aura flickers, their silhouette going hazy around the edges.

“Sweetheart?” They’re still not saying anything, and unease stirs in his gut, prickling at his skin. It’s not like them to lose their words like that - they always had plenty to say. “Hey, you okay?”

“I-” And just like that they vanish, flickering out of existence as if they had never been there in the first place.

Fuck.

He can’t see them. Can’t feel them, the warmth of their presence, their scent. But he can still sense them in the room with him - feel the quiet flicker of their aura, subtle in the air but distinctive, if you know what you’re looking for.

And he’s familiar with that aura now, familiar with finding it in a way that’s becoming second nature to him, and he steps away from the sink, crossing over to where they had been standing, where he thinks he can feel them now.

If he concentrates hard enough, he can see the faint shimmer of their magic vibrating in the air, like heat from sun-baked tarmac. He pauses, squinting. “Sweetheart?”

Every instinct in him is screaming at him to do something, to fix this. But he’s not even sure what this is. He’s got an idea - his pop used to get like this after a bad night, frantic and non-verbal, disappearing into his office for hours until his ma could finally coax him out.

She was good at stuff like that. He - he wasn’t. He didn’t have her soft touch, her endless patience. Shit, he’d probably make things worse if he tried.

Panic squeezes at his throat like a vice, even as he tries to swallow it down. “Sweetheart, can ya - can ya talk to me?”

A flash, and their hand appears, reaching out to grasp his wrist, gripping tight. A rush of heat floods his hand, followed by a sharp pinch that makes him curse, before the ache in his palm recedes, the wound closing.

He flexes his fingers as they flicker back into view, their mouth pinched into a tight line, eyes still too big but focused as they stare down at his hand.

It’s still bloody, the skin of his palm freshly pink, but he can feel the way their fingers tremble around his wrist, and fuck, it must be the blood. Christ, Milo. You’re a fucking idiot.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he focuses on his core, weaving the pattern of a simple cleaning spell, his breath leaving him as the magic runs through his system. He flexes his fingers once it’s done, checking over the clean skin. “Shit. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

They still won’t speak, won’t look at him. Their hold on him is tight enough that he can feel their pulse through their fingertips, still too fast, and carefully, telegraphing his movements, he reaches out, guiding their face up to meet his. “Hey. You still with me?”

They take a breath, deep and gasping. “I-I’m sorry.”

“None of that. You’ve got nothing to apologise for.”

They finally look at him, their bright eyes wide, slightly dazed but calmer now, a little more like themself. It settles something in him, although it's not enough - he needs more, needs to know that they’re okay, feel them against him.

“Can I hold you?”

They melt into his arms, soft and warm and perfect, like they were made to fit against him like this, and fuck. He runs his fingers through their hair, pressing his face against their throat until he can breathe them in, deep.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart. You’re okay. Just- breathe.”

–

“So, it’s the blood?”

They release a low hum, sinking further into him where they’ve settled on the couch, his arms around them, their legs across his lap and their body tucked against his chest.

“Yeah. I saw you standing there, and I couldn’t-” Their voice cuts out as they swallow, taking a moment to catch their breath. He holds them through it. “It just hit me, all at once.”

This was new, then. They hadn’t reacted like this to the shade - or at least, he hadn’t seen it at the time. There was that period after the fight, when they’d met with the department, but considering they were at his place immediately after that, he didn’t think it did.

And they’d been working, then. If he can remember well enough the stuff that had happened with his pop, then things like this tended to happen in the aftermath of an event - hours, maybe even days, later.

The fucking department. His grip around them tightens as he grits his teeth, tamping down on the urge to growl. “You’ll tell me, if this happens again? If there’s anything I can do-”

“There isn’t.” They wince, as if their words came out sharper than they intended, and they shift in his arms to look up at him. “But I’ll tell you, if it happens again.”

They lay their head back down against his chest, right over his heart, their fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt. He can feel the rhythm of their breath match up to his, easy and quiet, and he loves them. He loves them so fucking much in this moment, it makes his heart ache.

He’ll ask his ma about this, and maybe… maybe get in contact with his pop. They’re long overdue for a conversation, anyway.

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #ej writes redacted #redacted milo #milo/sh #look i love them #sh 🤝 me with panic attacks apparently #luckily they're still rare #but did not expect blood to be the trigger #writing

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hyunpic · 11 months

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HYUNJIN on instagram: I'm happy I was able to share a beautiful memory with Versace in Cannes. It was a glamorous yet powerful show that I will never forget. Thank you Versace

#hyunjin #skz #insta #he’s like a visual trigger in asmr form for me cause i sometimes he gives me goosebumps chills and tingles just by looking at him #dua lipa #donatella versace #troye sivan #literally can’t remember the name of the forgotten gay in the table when troye was rizzing hyunjin up

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im-sleeping-in · 5 months

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johnmcuong · 4 months

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Cute & Crunchy Japanese Crystal Candy! 🐰

Crystal Candy from Hida Takayama みっふぃーおやつ堂飛騨高山店 by Miffy Kitchen located on 23 Kamisannomachi, Takayama, Gifu 506-0846

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red-n-stuff · 11 months

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It’s sad boi hours so here we go with a headcannon for y’all, it’s pretty heavy so it’s under here. 👇

(Heed the tags folks)

CW: Mentioned Character Death, Character Aging, extestentialism of a vampire, suggested Romeo/Julietting (if you get the drift on that)

Sam takes every single moment he has with darlin and treasures it.

If there’s one thing he’s learned through the time he’s spent immortal, it’s the fact that delicate, lovely beautiful things die much too quickly.

His wolf is no exception.

As he closes his eyes and feels their breath under his hands as they sleep, and memorizes the lines of their face, he asks himself what comes after them. Wonders if there ever will be an after them. He can’t picture it, going back to an empty home and silent mornings.

He knows he has so much time left with them- the dawn of their first year together just barley creating the hill of what he dreams to be many, many fulfilling years. He treasures each moment- is thankful for every gift…but that doesn’t change the fact that one day he’s going to watch their hair turn grey- he’s going to watch their body fail them and he��s going to have to say goodbye and with how quickly the years have hurtled past him since his turning, he knows the cruel March of time will strip him bare again.

He has always been an over thinker- and This thought settles in the back of his mind and ossifies. Rising to the surface when he watches Vincent and his partner chase each-other through the trees, or when darlin gets sick, or when another brush of violence just creeps too close for comfort.

He holds them close while they sleep, and wonders what the world looks like for them in ten years time.

He couldn’t imagine asking them for their eternity- it’s hard to picture them without their shifting magic, but he couldn’t dream of a world without them. Would they want that? Would he? When he so steadfastly balked at the blood-drinking eternity staring back at him, could he really want that for the single person he loved more than anyone in the whole world?

Never again to run in the sun, or feel the wind on their fur? That didn’t feel much like his darlin. His sunlight.

Maybe, he thinks as he combs his fingers through their hair, it’s hard to know what they’d do. They were unpredictable- and always had a way of surprising him. And the future was so frought with unknowns it would be impossible to make a concrete decision now.

But maybe, one day, when his wolf was no longer there to hold, he’d stay up to watch the sunrise. Just one more time.

#redacted asmr #redacted #shaw pack #redacted darlin #redacted sam #content warning #dark shit #sad times #heavy #trigger warnings #tw character death

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bebravebeyouasmr · 1 year

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youtube

#youtube #asmr #youtuber #influencer #blogger #asmryoutuber #asmr tingles #visual asmr #asmr soft spoken #asmr relax #asmrartist #satisfying #asmr youtuber #satisfyingsounds #asmr video #aspiringactress #asmr trigger #asmr sounds #asmr whispering

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fleshadept · 8 months

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very sad to me that people seem to have a knee-jerk cringe reaction to the idea of asmr videos because it's some of the most inherently, unambiguously kind content on youtube. literally just an entire genre dedicated to helping people fall asleep or relax, with a huge variety of types to choose from. it's just nice innit

#gibi asmr my one true love #cricket chirps #asmr enjoyers what are ur fave triggers #i loooove mic scratching and p much any tapping and soft speaking <333

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lucem-stellarum · 6 months

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Y'all Redacted is starting off STRONG this Halloweek. Huge spoilers for Ivan's video under the cut, and heavy trigger warnings.

NGL, my first thought when I saw the background photo with the mirror shard and Ivan's immediate fear was that Baby tried the only method of escape they had left. I wouldn't blame them for it one bit, either.

The way he reassures himself that Baby can't have escaped is so terrifying. So long as he has them contained, he can find and deal with them. His gaslighting is top notch; breaking the glass, how angry he sounds when he does, and how he twists his reactions and justifies it later as being "clumsy". The heartbeat was so good and immersive, the way he described the physical reactions of anxiety. Turning their fear of Ivan, twisting and blaming Baby themselves for it. The power move, the way he made them walk over broken glass as punishment for their transgressions. Why would he bother to give them shoes when they never go outside?

The very careful way he uses "I", "you", and "we/us", making sure to make it very clear where the blame lies and contrasting his broken idea of reality with how he's constructed their relationship in his head is amazingly terrifying. The way Ivan pretends like this is normal, this idealized version he has in his head that he compares with the example his parents set for him, even as he uses guilt as a weapon to manipulate and threaten Baby into compliance.

The fact that he compliments Baby, the way he describes their relationship with such effusive, glowing praise is almost scarier than if he had just taken his anger out on them. I just know that there's no arguing with him that you're not as perfect and selfless and beautiful like he claims. There's no way to break through his delusions (and oh, is that going to be the running theme for this week? Twice is a coincidence, 3 times is a pattern. I guess we'll see tomorrow), any sort of verbal fight is just going to make things worse, to make him double down or push back. Pretending like they have any sort of choice in how they react to his "love", his "care" that they "deserve", like if he says the pretty words enough times it'll make it true.

He's so messed up and terrifying. I missed having his character around, there's something so delightfully disturbing about the whole fucked up situation. It's nightmare fuel, and like a car crash you just can't look away. Makes my IRL problems look tame in comparison.

#redacted asmr #redacted ivan #spoilers #i was thinking my thoughts and came up with this #trigger warning #early access #gaslight #manipulation

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gavinsdeviant · 7 months

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Feel the Light

cw/tw- talks of past harm done to character, talks of torture, emotional distress, trauma response, a traumatic flashback, hurt/comfort, Quinn, insults and harsh language

word count- 1,645

pairing- Sam & Darlin

fandom- Redacted Audio

fic inspired by the song feel the light by Jennifer Lopez

@davidshawswife @daveysangelsposts @angelcactus @morgansplace @annahhopee @romeo-the-homeo @zozosrandomthings @miyowmiyow

hope you enjoy!

“Quinn doesn’t get to keep hidin’ from you, not now. Not anymore.” Darlin’ gives a small smile, squeezing his cold palm in theirs. He brings their hands to his mouth and kisses a line down their wrist.

Do you remember,

“I’ll be fine. They ain’t gonna know what’s hitting ‘em,” he adds, flashing them a toothy grin. They laugh, even as nerves bounce around in their stomach. They reach up to press a kiss to his cheek.

When we feel under,

“I love you.”

“I love you too, darlin.”

—

Fifteen minutes later the shifter and their Alpha are seated overlooking a drab, empty room. The air is cold, quiet.

Darlin’ scrunches their nose at the smell of stale coffee.

“Where is he?” David asks again. He’d been hounded Detective Clark as soon as they had sat down, hackles raised at the room that still appeared vacant. Their stomach churns.

The fluorescent lights hum, buzzing as they drum fingers along the cold rim of the table they were sat at.

Henry beckons them to look. The door slides open and a familiar silhouette steps out seconds later. *Sam.*

Hurry up, hurry up,

There’s no more waiting,

He shuffles over to take his seat, flannel sleeves pulled up to the elbows. They smile to themselves as their chest warms. ”Samual Collins. He’s your partner, correct?”

He glances back to the glass, saluting them, something akin to mischief alight in his eyes.

We’re still worth saving,

The scrape of a large chain rattles the door before they can find a way to reply and then, with a slow creak the door swings open. With dusty hair and a charming smile, the man in the door almost appeared normal.

Sam’s smile drops.

I left my pack for him,

I gave my heart to him, my fears to him,

I put myself second for him,

Everything for him.

All they had done had been to have him behind bars and now, they couldn’t even look him in the eye.

Coward, their mind hissed.

Feel the light,

Shining in the dark of night,

Their heart pounds in their ears as their cruel vampire ex regards the man who had let down his walls for them— had let them love him for who he was, even when it wasn’t pretty. “I keep these walls high so those feelings don’t get the better of me but… you climbed over them. And you’re in here. I love you, Darlin’. Deeply.”

“Is my little mouse here?” Quinn demands, leaving in as if in whisper. A vein throbs in Sam’s temple.

They knew he’d ask— knew he’d try and draw them out, to no avail.

“No matter,” he snarls, smile too wide,” I don’t need them here for the things I’m going to tell you.” He lets out a huff, fangs flashing. “My pretty little pet didn’t share the details, did they?”

Sam bites back a growl.

“You really don’t know half the shit there is to know about your darlin. Oh, now you’ve got me excited.” A pause.

“Ever notice their limp?”

With a sharp scrape, their chair goes flying back as they press closer to the glass. “He doesn’t get to do that,” they hiss, turning to the detective. He shakes his head. “We need this information out of him. We’ve got him talking… now he just has to keep talking.”

Slowly, they turn back to the creature, one they’d called “lover” so many years ago, its eyes faint with delight. “Oh, the things I’ve done. Seen the scar on their ankle?” He seems almost nostalgic, eyes cast to the ceiling in thought.

Remember what we forgot,

I know its a long shot,

“I broke them, bit by precious bit, and I liked it,” he mused. They swallow hard. “Broke that ankle five, maybe six times, until my name became a prayer.”

“You,” Sam bites out,” don’t get to pretend you’re still apart of them, that you know anythin’ about them.”

“You new bloods are all the same. Young and naive. Don’t know what you’re saying.”

In a flash, Sam has him pressed to the wall, breaths coming hard.

Quinn only huffs out another laugh. “I would’ve made an example out of them. For all the empowered and non-empowered humans dead at my hand, they’d be a living example. Say, ever heard of the blood eagle?”

There’s a silence, long enough for darlin to hear their pulse in their ears before he continues.

“The Brazen Bull then? Eaten by rats, perhaps? They will always be a pathetic fucking mutt, in my eyes. Meant to be taught a lesson—“

Without a word, the shifter slowly rises from their seat and pushes the door open, grimacing at the ache that creeps up their ankle. Sam had never asked and hadn’t wanted to push anything they weren’t willing to give, but oh how they had wished he did.

They were humiliated.

Here I go, here I go,

Their eyes burned with tears, ones that they furiously wiped away. He didn’t deserve their tears, not when he fed on their pain like a sadism demon took to brutality.

A few minutes pass, the cold wall pressed to their back as they breathe in, and out. Their heart still beat like a thousand drums in their chest and they couldn’t seem to make it slow. They glance at the door just as it opens, David’s muscled frame waiting.

Feel better now, feel better now,

He hesitates, face taut.

And then, with long strides towards them, wraps them up in his arms, head to his chest. They shudder.

“It’s okay,” he breathes. “You don’t have to go back in there, if you don’t want to. That fucker doesn’t get to take that choice from you too.”

They nod.

“Do you want Sam?” Again they nod, eyes burning.

“I’ll go get him.”

“He should be in there,” they try weakly. “Trying to save that girl.”

“I don’t care. There are other ways.”

Without a further word their friend pushes up from where he’d practically sunk down on his knees in front of them, and swings open the door. It shuts with a resounding click behind him as they slump back against the wall.

Here I go, here I go,

Feel better now, feel better now,

Their shoulders shake, chest heaving as they bite back tears. They were just messing things up— if it weren’t for them, none of this would have happened.

You’re his thrall… always will be.

And then, Sam is there, gently cradling their face in his hands and whispering soft words.

“Hey, hey— you needed me, and I’m here.”

They see the panic in his eyes, the hurt as if reflected mirror-like in front of them.

No.

They lay a gentle hand on his chest, pushing back. He doesn’t touch, only opens his palms instead.

“These hands will always be for you, darlin. Always. Never to hurt or bruise. To hold, whenever you might need it. We’re safe.”

”Oh pet, my name tastes so good on your lips… as you scream it. How’s your leg, hmm? Holding, and healing, I hope.”

They roll their ankle, over and over again, tapping along the ridge where the scar had healed.

Still here, still here.

Still here still here still here still here still—

“Darlin.”

”Nice and crooked. Shifter bones are harder to shift and clay, but this… Now you can never run away. Why would you? Such a masochistic wolf you are. And so the wolf traded their life for another. The fox and the wolf.” He smiles. “What a tragic tale. Sly fox, stupid wolf.”

“I had this horse on the farm I grew up on, way back, in Mont Blanc.” They blink, lights unbearably bright. “Athena, we called her. And me, bein’ the small stubborn boy that I was, decided that I could damn well ride her if I pleased.”

There’s a pause, the shifter tapping a finger along the bone of their left ankle as they look up at him, present now.

“I fell off a horse that day, and my mama was not impressed.” They smile, reaching a hand out to take his palm.

“I’m sorry, its just—“

“No apologizin’.” They shrug but gesture for him to continue.

“Well, Athena got up to a whole lotta trouble in my day. She loved goin’ out and never wanted to come back,” he smiles, somber. “Couldn’t really blame her.”

They take his hand in theirs, squeezing as if to say I’m here.

“We can go back,” they say suddenly, the quiet too big. He looks concerned by pulls them gently to their feet anyway, a stream of tears drying on his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” he rasps, voice raw. “You shouldn’t have had to live through that.”

They smile, a genuine smile, one they hadn’t felt in weeks.

From behind them Detective Clark clears his throat. The shifter and vampire both turn to him looking distraught, hands behind his back.

“Quinn lashed out. He managed to shatter the glass to the back room and has been placed again under a magical suppression. We don’t believe it’s safe for Mr. Collins to return back in there.”

He walks closer, placing a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “You did well. Thank you both for coming, we appreciate the patience in this difficult case in finding Mr. Fox.”

An hour later, Darlin and Sam are standing on the sidewalk, breathing in the cold evening air, feeling lighter than they had ever been.

Sam throws his head up to the stars, eyes bright.

“As long as those stars burn,” he points. “And as long as I live, I will always be here for you— morning, noon and night. Whenever you need me, darlin. I love you.”

Here we go, here we go

“I love you too, cowboy.”

Feel better now, feel better now

#check the trigger warnings please #my interpretation of how the Quinn situation went #started writing it before the video released #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse #redacted quinn #redacted darlin #redacted david #redacted sam

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