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dominimoonbeam · 7 months

Note

Hi, first I wanted to say that I really love your writing and thank you so much for sharing it.

You're amazing and so talented and you made me addicted to your writing. The way you write characters is so real and your way of writing scenerios in general makes me so Invested in the story.

Another thing, I don't know if you accept requests and if you don't feel free to ignore it:

Can I please ask for Sam comforting darlin after a long week when they basically shut down from stress? (Can you tell I'm projecting?😅)

Please don't feel pressured to do it, I know you're working on a lot of stuff now too so maybe just keep the idea for the future?

Anyway I wish you a happy rest of your week, take care of yourself and rest if you need to!

Anon! Thank you so much for all the kind words! You're not the only one needing some comfort and care lately! I think something about this season has been rough for people for a bunch of different reasons, myself included. I've got you! Or at least, I tried. Hope you like it! And I hope things turn up and go smoother for you soon!

Sam/Darlin comfort fic below the cut. Will probably reread and post it on ao3 later on.

They were tired.

Dead tired. Like they wished they were dead. No, no, that was bad. They didn’t wish that. They just… It had just been such a long fucking week and it felt like everything was going wrong. Nothing big enough that they could point it out or complain. Just, off. And they hadn’t been able to sleep. And it seemed like the longer it went, the longer they hid it well enough that no one pressed for an explanation they couldn’t begin to come up with, it got heavier rather than lighter.

When they got home that night from a job, they were actually relieved Sam wasn’t back yet. The last thing they wanted to do was to drag him down with them. God, he deserved so much better than them. They tossed their keys on the side table, toed off their boots, and hung up their jacket. The side of their face throbbed. They’d gotten hit with a fucking bat. David thought their cheekbone was broken and had only finally allowed them to go home because he knew Sam would take care of it.

Darlin sat down in the big chair, their favorite chair, and told themself they’d just sit for a minute. And then they’d shower, see if their face was really that much of a mess, and if it was, maybe they’d drag their ass over to the clinic and get a healer there to fix it. They felt bad making Sam patch them up all the time, but they also hated the idea of anyone else touching them let alone mending them.

They could put an ice pack on it. Maybe the swelling would go down on its own.

They sank back in the chair and closed their eyes. Just a minute.

Sam was still at the Solaire house when he got a call from David.

His heart always lurched high in his chest when he got a call from David, his first thought always that frantic fear that something had happened to Darlin. Why else would David call him instead of Darlin or instead of using the group chat?

Sam stepped away from the big table of squabbling younger vampires and a very amused William.

“David?”

“Hey Sam,” David said, voice gruff but easy, instantly relieving that tension in Sam’s chest. “I just wanted to check in and see how they’re doing.”

The tension was back. “What?” Darlin had been off for almost a week, barely talking but not willing or ready to tell him why. He wasn’t sure they knew themself, not yet. But somehow he didn’t think that was what David was talking about.

The pause stretched. “Are they not home yet?”

Sam was already grabbing his jacket and waving heading for the front door. “They might be, but I ain’t. Why?”

David sighed. “Sorry. It’s not an emergency, Sam. The job got rough and they took a bat to the face… I would have taken them to a healer but they insisted—”

“Yeah,” Sam said, nodding. Of course, they would. “I’m heading home now. I’ll let ya know when they’re patched up.”

He called Darlin in the truck but they didn’t answer, which conjured a mess of panicked thoughts. What if they’d passed out behind the wheel? The thought of his Darlin in a twisted wreck was hard to push away and almost immediately replaced by other tragic imaginings.

He exhaled small relief when he saw their car in front of the house.

The front door wasn’t locked. Darlin never locked it when they were home. And there they were, asleep in the big chair. He sighed and put his keys down with theirs. Another step inside and their eyes opened. Well, one opened, the other was swollen shut.

“Damn…” Darlin winced as he closed the door. They sat up with some effort. “Sorry, I think I fell asleep… What time is—”

“Don’t you dare stand up,” he warned when they were starting to tip forward. He was already in front of them, gently catching their shoulder to ease them back. He kept his voice in a low hush, thinking their head had to be hurting inside and out. “You shoulda called me, Darlin.” He knelt beside their leg, carefully fingering hair out of their face. The bruising was new, like it had only just begun, and the swelling was bad. It looked like their cheekbone was broken. “David said you got hit with a bat?”

Darlin sighed, shoulders slumping. “I wasn’t paying attention and this guy… Yeah.”

Sam clicked his teeth to keep from snarling at the idea of ‘this guy’ whoever the hell he was. He reached toward their face but they caught his wrist and pulled it gently down to their heart instead. “I’ll be gentle,” he promised, surprised.

Darlin smiled weakly, eyes already closed again. “I know. You always are, cowboy. But I don’t…” They sighed, their smile gone. “I don’t want to cost you anything right now, you know?” Their voice had gotten small, like they were far away inside themself.

Sam kept his hand to their chest, feeling their heartbeat through his palm. He leaned against their thigh, so they’d feel him right there next to them, practically leaning into the chair with them. “You never cost me anything,” he whispered back. “Healing you is a privilege. It makes me feel like there’s something I can do for you. I love you, Darlin.”

Their face pinched, not a wince but close, and he thought if they opened those eyes, they’d be teary. His other hand stroked up the side of their thigh, squeezing them gently. “Tell me what it is,” he said gently. “Tell me what’s going on in your head.” He said it quietly, like it could be just between them.

Darlin sighed and he heard all the exhaustion and strain in that breath. “I don’t know. I just… It’s been a bad week. It’s everything. I just feel… Everything. And I’m tired and I hate myself and I can’t… I can’t take things from you when I feel like I’ve got nothing to give.”

Sam watched them the whole time they choked out that barely audible confession. They’d never told him these things, but they didn’t shock him either. They hurt, because he never wanted them to feel like that, but they didn’t shock him. “Do you trust me, Darlin?”

That good eye opened enough to look at him, surprised. “Of course. I love you.”

He stroked his thumb against their collar, above their heart. “I’m going to heal you and then we’re going to take a bath. You can talk or you can relax. We’re going to get some well needed sleep and I’m going to order your favorite food. And every step of the way, I’m going to remind you that you’re incredible and all the reasons I love you, all the reasons your pack loves you, and all the reasons my clan loves you. You get to feel however you feel, Darlin, but that voice in your heart telling you bad shit, that’s asshole is lying.”

A tear rolled off Darlin’s lashes, even though their mouth was set in a stubborn line, like they refused to acknowledge it.

He reached up slowly, so they could stop him again if they needed to argue about this more, but he also couldn’t leave their face like that. His fingertips brushed the edge of the bruising and Darlin’s eye closed as that warm magic slid through their skin, spreading out. The delicate bone in their cheek healed and the swelling went down.

They exhaled relief when they opened both eyes and blinked at him.

He could see an apology building in their eyes, trying to form on their tongue. He took their face in both hands and leaned in, touching his forehead to theirs the way he’d seen the pack do. “Trust me,” he pleaded. “I ain’t ever going to lie to you, Darlin, and we’ll get through bad weeks together.”

Darlin stayed tense for another few seconds, like they might push this comfort away, but finally they sagged. Too tired maybe?

Sam smiled when they tipped their face into his, brushing a soft kiss against his lips. He kissed back and then pulled them to their feet to lead them to the bathroom. He had to make a dash back to his jacket to send a text off to David, telling him Darlin was fine but they were taking tomorrow off.

#thank you anon!#sam/darlin #redactedverse #comfort fic #dark feelings #angst #hurt/comfort #<3 #dominimoonbeam

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frog-0n-a-l0g · 3 months

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Darlin when they wanna mock Sam for being southern

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted #redactedasmr #redacted headcanons #redacted darlin #redacted sam #redacted tank #redacted tanker #Sam/darlin #Spotify

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damnknoxandothernonsense · 1 year

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knox’s head cannons for sam

He gives me the vibes of being scared of heights

no I will not elaborate

Avid tea drinker as well

despises coffee

he doesn’t see the appeal to it at all

however flavored leaf water????

where does he sign up???

Has an entire cute set up in his kitchen dedicated to various teas he has

Darlin’ also got him a cute tea kettle for his birthday and teared up

obviously he won’t admit it and swore Darlin’ to secrecy

Darlin’ refuses to come to him about any major injuries

however will in fact force him to look and kiss every tiny paper cut they receive

Sam hates this with a burning passion

still “kisses it better” every time without fail

Also knows how to sew??

And is pretty good at it

like he makes it so no-one knows that it was even torn in the first place

Sewn up all of Darlin’s ripped clothes when they aren’t home

Really wants to rescue a Pitbull

he doesn’t want to ask Darlin’

he doesn’t know how that all works with the werewolf stuff??

like will there be territory issues??

could that traumatize the dog???

Does regularly go an volunteer at animal shelters to satisfy his intense desire to get one without talking to Darlin’

Darlin eventually finds out and started laughing because they found it hilarious

they got him one for his birthday and that man didn’t stop smiling for months

if you want to read more, you can find my master list here!

if you want to request something my rules and the characters I write for can be found here!

who would be interested in a taglist?

#redacted asmr #redacted headcanons #redacted audio #redacted sam #redacted sam collins #redacted sam/darlin #sam/darlin #sam collins

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cashandprizes · 9 months

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so........ sam is a duke.........

[starts firing up the royal au canon]

i know we're all mad at sam rn but hfudjcidjscids i have latched onto that piece of info hehehehe

Are we mad at him? I just wanted sub!gavin or Avior ok but I respect that there is no way to make a BA better than Calico's fic so it's okay

Anyway. Sigh. Zo you are such a dear engaging me as I am like half dead on tumblr dot com. *cracks knuckles*

So I have a couple different flavors of thoughts. I really liked the Royalty Darlin/Duke Sam idea, where Sam theoretically could be a good arranged marriage but Darlin would ideally be married to another royal if possible - but I'd love to see Sam fighting for their heart and the honor of marrying them.

Reversing that, I just had this ADORABLE (to me) idea of Duke Samuel Collins and the leader of his order of knights, Darlin. I kind of want to make Sam a bit of a damsel for once and I think it would be a little silly. Just this image of Darlin standing up straight, commanding their subordinates and Sam is watching them (he's definitely in the middle of a conversation and should NOT be doing this) with hearts in his eyes. Or a scene where Sam is at a formal event all dressed up and Darlin is playing the 1700s version of whatta man on repeat.

idk is that anything

#zozo 01 #speed run #the unholy sam chronicles #asks.#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redactedasmr #redacted #moon queue.#redactedverse #writing tag #sam/darlin

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ejunkiet · 2 years

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if you give a wolf a wonton

finally finished the third part of nightcall, the sam/darlin fic that bridges the gap between darlin’s fight with the vamps and david calling sam.

expect: lingering glances, late night calls, sam giving darlin' his extra crab wontons, fluff and delicious tension. >:3 thanks again to Tay for the chapter title!

redacted asmr: sam/darling, rated teen, 2.3k wordcount.

READ ON AO3

A series of conversations between a vampire and a lone wolf.

"Just checking in, Darlin'. From the sound of your snark, you're feeling better."

if you give a wolf a wonton

It has been almost a month since they last heard from him.

It's for the best. At least, that's what they tell themselves. The lack of interruptions has given them room to focus and strategise, the space they need to plan out the next stages of their hunt, narrowing down their suspect list.

Nearly all of Quinn’s crew - that they knew of, at least - had skipped town as soon as DUMP had gotten involved, but they'd heard a rumour last night that a few had come back, thinking the heat had cooled off. Good. They'd live to regret that decision, soon enough.

But for all their drive, all their good intentions, they still find themselves - distracted.

Distracted by thoughts of him.

Sam. Just Sam, no need for a last name to act as a reminder. It's not as if they know any other Sams anyway. None like him, at least. None that they cared to know, anyway.

Or cared at all about, really.

…Shit.

The way they’d left it - hadn’t been fair. To him. They have their own issues, sure, but he hadn’t tried to do anything other than help. He was an - ally. Or the closest thing they’d had to one in this God forsaken town.

And that had meant something. Still meant something.

Another long night passes before they finally give in to the guilt that has been building behind their teeth. Picking his name out of their contact list, they press it before they can second guess the decision, raising the phone to their ear and listening to the dial tone. Their jaw is clenched tight with a tension that they can’t quite seem to release.

He picks up after one ring. “Hello?”

He sounds surprised, but not as if the call is unwelcome. Good. They’re still not a hundred percent sold on the idea of calling him in the first place. They still barely know each other.

But he’s seen them at their most fucked up, their most vulnerable, and he hadn’t turned them away. They owe them this, at least.

He’s still speaking, his voice low, consonants softened by his accent. “...everything okay?”

“Just checking in,” they say, and they wish they were having this conversation in person, so they could see his expression when he releases a soft huff of surprise. There’s only so much you can read over a line like this. It’s not enough. “If that’s okay.”

“Of course it’s okay.” His voice is soft, just the same as they remember it, accent curling on his consonants. “Anytime.”

The pause that follows should be awkward, except it’s so damn comfortable. Things were getting too comfortable with him, but still, they couldn’t seem to keep away.

They take a breath, steeling themselves. “I’m sorry about how we left it.”

“Darlin’…” He catches himself. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t want me to call you that.”

The fact he gives a shit about that shouldn’t come as a surprise. “No. No, it’s - it’s okay.”

“Okay.” He pauses to gather his thoughts. “Look. We’re - good. You don’t have to explain yourself.”

They take a breath and hold it for a long moment, letting that sit. If he can move past this, then they can too. “Alright.”

“Alright,” he echoes, and they can hear the faint hints of a smile in his voice. He’s so damn easy going. So damn forgiving. They don’t know how to deal with that. Clearing their throat, they change the subject.

“So. How are the newborns?”

He laughs again, a soft, low rumble that sends a pleasant shiver through them. Before they can ask him what, exactly, is so funny about that question, he speaks again.

“They’re driving me up the goddamn wall.”

They’re on the phone with him for a little over an hour.

It’s been a while since they’ve had a conversation like this, without any ulterior motive or goal. Just - talking for the sake of talking. It’s strange, but it’s good. Reminds them of what being human feels like, the connections they used to have, back before just about everything in their life went to shit.

“I think I’ve kept you just ‘bout long enough.” His voice is warm down the line, whiskey honey. “Are you sure there’s nothing else I can do for you?”

“You’ve done enough,” is all they say, and mean it. He has done more than enough - he’s seen them at their worst, and he forgave them. He huffs softly into the phone, and they can picture the wry curve of his smile.

“I don’t know about that. But… I’d like to call on you, soon. If that’s okay.”

He says it carefully, his voice neutral, without any expectation one way or the other.

Their answer surprises them as much as him. “I’d like that.”

“Good. That’s… I’m glad.” There’s that warmth again, soft heat, reminding them of the late summer sun. “Then I’ll see you soon. Take care of yourself, darlin.”

Darlin’. For some reason, they don’t mind it when he says it. “You too, cowboy.”

They end the call before he can respond, their heart beating a rapid pace inside their chest.

The late night calls start again, as if they'd never stopped. ‘Just checking in’ turns into casual conversations, late night rendezvous around the city and in their apartment.

It’s the closest thing to ‘hanging out’ they’ve had in years.

Making sure you’re keeping out of trouble, is what he says when he turns up on their doorstep, a bag of takeaway secured under his arm, and since he doesn’t need to eat - well, not like this, anyway - he always insists on sharing the food with them.

He likes pad thai and spicy Cantonese noodles, and he gives them the extra crab wontons he says they’re always sticking in the bag, although he refuses to show them the receipt.

They talk, and as they talk, they learn a little more about him and his relationship with the Solaires. How he’s close with the King’s heir, Vincent, and the pieces fall into place: the vampire he’d mentioned before who owes him a few favours, after his help with his partner.

It'd been a close call, he’d explained, in reference to the incident with a rogue vampire - a different one, although the trend itself is telling. The bastard had nearly drained them dry.

They’ve never been one to buy into stereotypes, and they don’t now. The anger and frustration steadily building within them is directed solely at the Department and their inaction. Just how they could let so many rogues slip beneath their radar…

They’re doing their best with what they have, darlin’. It isn’t much, considering.

They’re not willing to start a debate with him on this.

Still. They’ve been spending more time together, lately.

And Darlin finds themself thinking of him, when he’s not around. That’s not unexpected, per say; not with the amount of time spent in each other’s company – and they’d be lying if they said they hadn’t noticed just how much closer they’ve grown. They don’t mind it.

But they’ve started thinking about more than just his company. Thinking about how soft his lips look. The way the longer strands of his hair curl around his face in the humidity of the city. How the moonlight catches on the lines of his features, the strong cut of his jaw.

He occupies a lot of their thoughts, when they’re not thinking about their plans to continue their hunt, or the fact that David, of all people, has started texting them again.

Still, nothing happens, and they don’t expect it to. They’re friends, as odd as it is to admit it, let alone say aloud that first time. It’d been an offhand comment after another late night ‘hang’, and he’d picked up on immediately, as of course he would.

Friends. I like that, darlin’. Thank you.

They’re friends, and so they ignore the thoughts of him as anything other than that, burying their growing feelings - shit, they really are turning into a lovestruck teen - as deep as they can, in the recesses of their mind.

And it works, for the most part. Until the end of July.

They want to blame it on the midsummer heat. It’s about as hot as it gets in Dahlia, the days long, so they haven’t been seeing as much of him lately. But tonight, when they found themselves in an empowered bar close to the D.A.M.N campus, it was late enough that he joined them for a drink.

The company is good, soothing the sting of another failed lead. He drinks Tennessee whiskey while they stick to bottled beer, the honey liquid reflecting in the silver of his eyes.

I like the taste, the way it lingers on the back of the tongue.

He makes a good case for it, and when they finish their first beer, they order one for themselves, nursing it between their hands.

It’s been a while since they’ve had whiskey like this. It’s a familiar burn, trailing down their throat, settling in their stomach in a rolling heat, like the aftermath of a sunburn, the coals of a bonfire.

It’s when they glance back up to meet his gaze that they find his eyes already on them, a soft smile playing on his lips. It warms them, almost as much as the whiskey in their drink.

He’s - good. Better than most. He cares, when he shouldn’t, and they find themselves caring too. And so when the night gets a little messy - and when doesn’t it, when they’re involved? - and a simple conversation turns into a bar fight, they’re not surprised when he has their back.

And he’s good at that, too.

They can’t help the way their eyes are caught on his movements, the fluid strength of him, even as he moves at a speed that’s too fast for most humans - empowered and unempowered alike - to catch.

Not too fast for them, though.

He’s at their side, having blocked a blow coming at them from behind, the warm heat of him against their back as his eyes scan over them, checking them for injuries - but they’re practised at this, and they can hold their own better than most.

Still, he moves fast, that fluid grace that comes with his immortality, his silver eyes. It sets their heart racing, the adrenaline pounding through their system, but it’s not fear flooding their veins - it’s interest.

He notices, as of course he does, a flicker of concern crossing his features before he breathes in deep, nostrils flaring just slightly as his head turns, catching their gaze.

His eyes are darker than they’ve seen on him before, but it’s not the black that comes before a feeding. His pupils are dilated as he releases a shivery breath, and they realise that he knows, and he feels it too.

Fuck, he’s still so close.

His eyes flicker down to their mouth, just for a moment, and their breath hitches.

A garbled yell breaks the quiet that’s fallen between them, some drunken idiot with a pocket knife and a death wish, and the moment is gone.

But they’re still thinking about it later when he makes the long walk back with them to their apartment, waiting on their stoop as they pull out their keys. He’s always doing things like that, all polite southern hospitality, a wry grin curling his lips when they call him out on it.

Allow me my manners, darlin’.

They hesitate on the front step of their apartment building, the door unlocked, taking a moment to look at him under the subtle glow of the moonlight. He’s watching them in return, a warm light in his silver eyes as they flicker between theirs, an understanding there.

He’s thinking about that moment from earlier, too.

But then he takes a step back from the stoop, his hands slipping into the deep pockets of his leather jacket, aged chestnut leather comfortably worn in and scuffed at the elbows.

“Guess I’ll be seeing you then, darlin’.”

He smiles, soft and with just a hint of teeth, and he’s handsome in this light, with his bright eyes and striking features. And maybe it’s the alcohol still buzzing in their system, but they wish they had the confidence to invite him up, to ask if he’d spend the night, instead of just watching him go.

“Take care of yourself, cowboy.”

His laugh is rounded and warm, whiskey smooth. “I’ll see what I can do.”

–

That night, they don’t sleep easy, and when they do, their dreams are filled with him. Bright eyes and soft touches, the subtle heat of his body at their side, at their back, on top of them-

They wake in sweat-soaked sheets, their heart pounding inside their chest for a very different reason than their usual nightmares, and fuck.

Fuck.

–

The next day, when their phone rings, they don’t answer immediately. They don’t need to check the screen to know who it is; there’s only one person with this number who’d call at this hour. Sam.

The weight of their dreams and that missed moment last night sits heavily at the forefront of their mind, and shit. They don’t know how to speak to him. They don’t think they can without saying something stupid. Like inviting him over again.

So instead, they sit and wait, watching the phone. Their heart is pounding inside their chest, all nerves and trepidation and other shit they’d thought they’d left behind them in childhood.

After a few more moments, the ringing stops, the caller forwarded to voicemail. They wait to see if he leaves a message. He doesn’t.

Instead, the phone screen lights up again, and the nerves in their stomach turn to ice. If he’s pushing to talk to them in person like this, then it must be something important.

Muttering a short curse, they grab the phone and answer the call. “Sam-?”

“David called,” is what he says instead of his usual greeting, or any number of things they expected to come out of his mouth, and fuck. "He's heading over to yours."

A firm knock sounds at the door. Shit.

#redacted asmr #redacted sam #redacted darlin #sam/darlin #ej writes redacted #writing #there is gonna be a bonus chapter #as a gift to andy #set just before HBS #but this is done for now! FINALLY #look giving someone the wontons is a declaration of love okay

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vlovebug · 9 months

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I can't stop thinking so all my thoughts are going here

What I think Sam and darlin would be like as parents

Sam would call his kid or kids his sun/ stars

Darlin would call them kiddo, little shit/s, pup or vamp

Sam and darlin would both try to be gentle parents but don't push it or face the consequences ( maybe not super like bad, no hitting unless absolutely necessary)

They both have experience in taking care of kids of all ages ( my little head cannon that they both have siblings)

Scenario one :)

Sam: where did they go? * looking for them*

Darlin and they're first born ( idk how many they would have): fast asleep in the backyard under a tree

Sam: awe * he picks them up and puts them in their beds*

Scenario two :)

Darlin: whatca got in your mouth kiddo?

Kid: chews faster

Darlin: ... KIDDO WTF * trys to open their mouth and finds out they were trying to eat a mouse* •_•

Kid: ... Runs off to Sam and hides

Sam: just like you darlin', always trying to eat shit

Kid and darlin: 🙃

That's it. My brain hurts

#redacted headcanons #redacted sam #redacted darlin #redacted asmr darlin #redacted asmr sam #redacted tank #redacted sam/darlin #sam/darlin

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slushrottweiler · 2 years

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Me: trying to work out my Darlin's voice.

Please imagine Darlin' strolling up behind Sam, then murmuring in his ear.

#redactedverse #redacted asmr #f!darlin #sam's darlin #sam/darlin #sam x darlin #voice test #idk if this is sexy or weird but i love it

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gremlin-writes-angst · 2 years

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I know I haven't posted in a while, my computer is broken and so is my inspiration. But I've been writing stuff for a different Fandom. And this is the only one I think deserves to be shared.

A Vampires Bite

Fandom: redacted asmr/ redactedverse

Couple: past darlin/Quinn, current sam/ darlin

1.9k words

Trigger warning: Quinn, non consensual biting,hinted emotional abuse, manipulation

Let me know if I missed a trigger or if you spot any spelling mistakes.

Feedback is encouraged

Click here if you want to see more of my work and follow me for more!

3 years ago

"And this scar?"

You laid face to face in bed with your boyfrie- mate , he was pointing out scars as you told him stories.

"Oh, that one was from my cat."

You didn't feel the need to explain more, but after looking at Quinn face you roll your eyes and continue .

"Don't give me that look, werewolves can like cats, cats don't really like us, hence the scar."

You relax into Quinn's touch as he traces the scar.

"Why haven't I heard about this cat before? What's it's name?"

Your smile drops as you think about your old pet. You lift your hand to the scar, your hand grazing Quinn before landing on the scar. You smile that you have something to remember you can goodbye.

"She's dead. She was my cat as a child, the only pet I ever had. Her name was Fizzy, I picked the name as a toddler."

Your hand stops tracing the scar, smoothly taking Quinn's hand, both his and your hand now against your body, togather. You look into Quinn's eyes, you weren't afraid of him trancing you, you trusted him and knew he had a reason every time he tranced you.

" I actually really like the scar, it's a permanent reminder of her, a souvenir on my skin. I don't have many pictures from that time of my life, so I'm glad I have something to take with me."

Quinn's hand disconnects from your's, he walks his fingers up your arm.

"I like the way you think. I agree, scars are full of memories, it's hard to forget something when it's etched onto your body."

Quinn hand is now on your neck, one finger sliding up and down your neck.

"I think it can be romantic."

You laugh with a puzzled look,when you see Quinn's face you snap your facial expression to something more neutral. You've seen that look a lot, it tells you when you’re wrong and should let him explain why.

"Good pup."

You can't stop the smile that spreads across your face, you loved the praise, you loved that Quinn gave you a nickname, made you feel special. You stay quiet as

Quinn's fingers glide up and down your neck. He prefered you quiet, it took you a while to get used to it but, he was really insistent, it was basically instinct now, waiting for Quinn to talk or give you the go ahead to speak your mind.

"Listen, scars are long lasting, they change people, physically and sometimes mentally. I can tell the kind of person humans are from their scars, I imagine the pain,the most felt, I want to know about their memories of those scars."

Quinn's hand moves up to your face, his fingers finding and touch all the scars on your face.

"As a vampire I'm envious. I have a few scars from before I was turned, all minuscule in my memories. I miss it. I think of all the times I fought someone, how I should have scars littering my body."

You can understand where your boyfriend is coming from but you think about your scars, the ones that bring memories you wish to forget, too many of your scars come from that category. You try to hide how you disagree with him, but you know you've failed when your body has been moved. Quinn now pinning you to the bed, his hands holding yours above your head. His hand release them, sliding his hand down your arms, his head lowers closer to you.

“Think about it…”

He's so close, his lips brush yours with his words. He laughs at your shocked face, abruptly stopping he stares into your eyes, before he move down, his head landing in the crook of your neck, a vampire's favorite place.Gab- your alpha’s voice plays in your head, all the warnings he gave you about Quinn, all the lectures he gave about how Quinn was bad company, a bad friend, a bad vampire. You never took it well, you yelled back defending Quinn, told him that Quinn would never hurt you,and at that time you believed it. Now that Quinn is smelling your neck, you wish you could tell him to stop, you knew why you couldn't, you were afraid. You shook it off, Quinn wont bite you.

“ Wolves bite, not just to fight, but to claim, to love. To mark their mate. They scar their mate to ensure they'll never forget them, that others won't take them."

Quinns breath is on your neck, you feel him take a break of talking, to breathe you in.

“You smell…amazing. I can hear your pulse."

He leans in more, your mind and body argue on whether to stop him. Your body goes rigid at the feeling of Quinn's cold tongue on your neck, a slow long lick against your neck.

"I can feel your want on my tongue. "

He's wrong, but you don't correct him.

“Let me show you how much I love you. Like a wolf?"

Quinn's nose is against your neck, you feel the air move as he smells you.

“I know you'll like it, you have to , you're a wolf, and I'm your mate."

You don't have time to do anything, as Quinn bites you, like a vampire. His fangs deep in your neck, your veins, your blood, drinking it.

A few weeks later

"That looks pretty new? What's the story? Did ya fight a blood crazy vampire?"

Your friend points out the punctures on your neck, your hand goes to graze the healing punctures. Smiling at the memory, at who gave you the bite mark.

"No, nothing like that, it was actually Quinn."

You felt your face heat up as you spoke about him.

"He said it was like a mate's bite. "

Your voice makes it clear how embarrassing you find this, you hate showing your emotions, and it was hard to contain how happy Quinn made you.

"Oh? I didn't think you two were that serious."

Something about their voice made you confused. Why did they sound sad? Were they hiding something?

"I'm happy for the two of you."

"Well its not actually serious."

Your friend looked at you with concern.

"But you call each other mates, you let him drink for you, from your neck. "

"Well mates ain't that serious, and so what if he drank from my neck."

Your body wanted to curl up in disgust after deming the term mates, but Quinn was clear that this wasn't a serious relationship, he just liked the term mates.

"To vampires the neck is, its intimate, in all ways, including emotionally. Vampires only drink from the neck for 2 reasons, they see you as food and food only ,or they want to make feeding good for you, want to show their love and feel yours."

You laughed.

“ There's no way."

You genuinely can't imagine a vampire's bite being pleasurable. You recall the immense pain of Quinn's bite.

"There's absolutely no way it could ever feel good."

Your friend looked at you , you grew uncomfortable looking at their face, it displayed only pity.

"If it could feel good, it would have cause, he doesn't see me as food."

Your friend's face doesn't change, they're still looking at you like you're a victim.

"I'm his mate, and you need to stay out of it."

Present

You feel his breath on your neck, you feel him take a break just to breathe you in.

“You smell like you.”

"What does that mean."

You laugh trying to bury the pit that's growing inside of you.

"Means your hiding something."

Your heart races as sam moves your body.

Pulling away from your neck , the hand that were previously on your hips, moved to hold your face. You look into Sam 's silver eyes, the same color as Quinn's yet nothing like his.

“Darlin, what's wrong?"

"Its- nothing, you can- go ahead bite me if you want."

The words had struggled to get out of your mouth.

“You lying darlin’. I know you.”

Smas thumb grazes your check.

“ Why did you think I was going to bite ya?"

You wanted to tear your head away, but couldn't in the grasp of Sam , so you adjusted your eyes, looking at the walls of Sam 's home. Such a cozy place, you 'd never knew cozy till you met Sam .

“darlin’ , does it have something to do with these?"

Sam's hand moved to your neck, you knew he was talking about the half a dozen bite marks on your neck, ones clearly done by a feeding vampire.

Your eyes snapped back to Sam 's face, expecting to meet his eyes, instead you saw his eyes on your neck. There's so much emotion in him, not even a daemon could decipher them all, but you could see both hate and love. You waited for him to look back up and into your eyes before speaking

"Yes, there all from-"

You clear your throat before attempt to say his name, but you didn't need to as Sam says it for you.

"Quinn."

He lets out a sigh.

"I figured, I never asked because I thought you'd share with me when you were ready."

"I'm ready"

"Ok darlin'. should we uhh, change positions, I feel this portion is not suited for what you're about to tell me."

You realize what Sam means, and he's right, you don't think this is a story you tell while straddling your m- boyfriend. You move to get off, Sam's hand finds yours as he lets you pick the position of your and his body. You end up laying your head in his lap, one of his hands is over your body holding your hand, while the other one is petting your head. You didn't want to be facing him when you shared how naive you were.

"I have a lot of scars, it's not like I hide that, and it really intrigues people. Scars have memories attached to them,and the scars on my neck were given to me by a blood crazed vampire who only saw me as food."

Your emotions bubbles up at the memories, becoming hard to control your self. But then you feel Sam 's hand, and you know you're safe. Calming you as you continue.

"But I didn't believe that. I thought it was out of love, he said it was like a mate's bite, he never asked if it was what I wanted he said that I should want it, like it should have been instinct for me to need him to bite me. It always felt wrong in the moment, but he would make me feel so special after words that I was, I was proud to be bitten by him, to be his food supply. That's basically it, it's not that serious.

"Darlin' don't minimize your feelings. He's a piece of shit, and I'm disgusted to be a vampire, because of him. He's the kind of vampire that gives us a bad reputation. "

You let out a breathy laugh, you were glad to have someone like Sam .

"Darlin, I'd never bite you without asking, you're not food to me. You're my mate."

You blinked out of shock, and to keep tears in. You knew your packmates called you and Sam mates, as a wolf you saw him as your mate, but the human part of you never wanted to use that word again. But hearing Sam use it, made you swoon, you wanted to heal just to be able to be comfortable calling him that. You tried to rush it, trying to say the word,failing. You looked into his beautifully silver eyes, full of so much love and care.He could read you so well. He could see how you saw him, he knew he was your mate, wether you could say it or not.

#redacted darlin #redacted sam #redactedverse #redacted quinn #vamipre #sam/darlin #quinn/darlin #redacted darlin(reader)

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thatonesamcollinssimp · 2 years

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I’m crying so hard

I missed him

#redacted asmr #redacted asmr sam #redacted asmr darlin #sam x darlin #sam/darlin #redacted sam #darling (listener)#redacted darlin

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rainingcatsandjune · 9 days

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the sleepy bbs :3 sam sleeping with a shifted darlin :3

at this point i feel like i should just tag her SHES BEEN GIVING ME ALL THE IDEAS RAHHFJKSDFHGKJF thank you @nicnebula for indoctrinating introducing me to redactedverse my motivation to draw has gone through the roof AND THANK FOR THIS IDEA ITS SO SWEET AAAAAAAAAAAA

bit messier but i gotta fix my perfectionism somehow so here you go :0

#redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted sam #sam collins #redacted asmr #redacted darlin #my art #GOD I ACTUALLY HAVE TO LEARN HOW TO DRAW WOLVES AAAAAAA #the sam craze is still going i am not stopping anytime soon #irrelevant to drawing but today i just spent over 500 at an artist alley #hey guys just wanted to let you know my commissions are open!!#HELP #they genuinely are open though #once i finish my current comms i will prolly make a sheet #AND THANK YOU FOR ALL OF YOUR SUPPORT GUYS AA #im glad so many people are enjoying my sam drawings :3

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dominimoonbeam · 2 years

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Keeping the Hat

Thanks to @gremlin-writes-angst for sending me the tiktok bull riding clip ages ago that lived on in my brain until @taelonsamada had to find me the clip again because I couldn’t stop thinking about it for Sam/Darlin... It is now a fluffy hot fanfic.

Thank you world. <3

tags:...huh. innuendo? sexiness? do those count? dude, i usually write such triggery shit that i think this is clean. is it clean? MOMMA DID I WRITE CLEAN?

“We should rent this place out for your birthday.”

“I’m never tellin you when my birthday is, Darlin.”

“Will will tell me…”

“Don’t call him Will.”

“He said I could.”

“He was being polite,” Sam had to try to keep a hard expression. Really, he loved that William had been so friendly with Darlin. It meant a lot to him that he’d made sure Darlin felt comfortable and welcome in their spaces.

This, unfortunately, was not one of those spaces.

He’d let Darlin pick their date location and was regretting it deeply. They’d managed to find the only cowboy bar in Dahlia and were more than a little proud that it had a mechanical bull. The club was loud, the dancefloor packed and the bar crowded.

He sipped his beer and narrowed his eyes at his Darlin again. The hat had really put things over the edge. Where had they even gotten a cowboy hat? And what had possessed them to put it on?

Darlin grinned back. “You like it.”

He shook his head and took another sip to hide a treacherous smirk. It wasn’t that he liked it, so much as he loved Darlin and that weird playful side of theirs they only seemed to show a few people. And few was being generous.

When their turn came up for the mechanical bull, Sam groaned. “It’s not as easy as it looks…” he warned.

Darlin gasped. “I knew you’d done it before!”

Sam rolled his eyes.

Darlin practically bounced with excitement, reaching peak mischief when they climbed up onto the padded leather seat of the bull. Sam moved closer, standing at the railing and raising an eyebrow. His heart jumped a little when the bull started moving and all that bravado seeped from Darlin, replaced by surprise and the very clear, “oh shit, what did I get myself into” look that he’d come to be so familiar with.

They practically white-knuckled the horn, hanging on for dear life even though it was just starting.

He saw the moment they’d had enough—all steam for mischief gone—and were about five seconds from climbing off.

Sam handed his beer to a stranger and hopped over the railing. Darlin’s eyes grew at the sight of him, expression changing from questioning to awe when he grabbed the rope hanging above and climbed up onto the bull. He sat down, facing them, their thighs overlapping. He pulled their arms over his shoulders and then gently took the hat off their head and put it on his own.

“Oh shit,” Darlin exhaled, so low that no one else would hear it over the music and the voices and the machine still rocking them together.

Sam smiled, leaning in to say, “Don’t act like you’ve never ridden before, Darlin. I know for a fact you can move your hips better than that.” He settled a hand high on their thigh, his grip firm and pulling them in closer.

For an incredible stretch of minutes that Darlin was sure they would never forget, no matter how many head injuries they managed to incur over their life, it seemed that everyone else in that packed club vanished. Sam never looked away, never lost that confident smirk, his hands on them all the time. He pushed at their chest, between their collarbones, fingertips at their throat, and laid them back.

Darlin’s breath caught, staring up at the moving ceiling in that dark room. They should have been unbalanced and falling but they knew they wouldn’t—they knew he wouldn’t let them. And then he was up above them, grinning as he leaned over them. He held on to the leather-wrapped edge of the fake bull just above their head. He was straddling their hips and for a moment seemed to be riding them instead of the machine. Their pulse jumped and they knew he sensed it, his gaze flicking to their neck. Was he fantasizing about biting them? Right there? While riding that bull? In the middle of that club?

He curled a hand behind their neck and pulled them upright again, kissing them before they could ask about that look in his eyes. The kiss was deep, and they forgot they were even moving until it broke and he leaned back. He took off his hat, their hat really, and returned it. He fiddled with it for a second, getting it right. “Do you want to keep playing cowboy or do you want to go home with one?” he asked.

Darlin shivered, hoping the deep shadows in this place hid it but knowing he saw anyway. “The second option.”

He flashed another smile, his teeth longer than they should be. He reached up and grabbed the rope, easily lifting himself up and off the bull. Before Darlin could decide how the fuck to get down, he had hit the button to bring it to a stop. He leaned against the railing and waited for them. Darlin bit their lip when slid off the machine and walked to him. “I’m keeping the hat on,” they said, jumping the railing to get back to the sticky club floor.

Sam groaned a laugh and followed, hands on them and practically carrying them out of the crowd toward the exit.

#sam/darlin #sam x darlin #redacted asmr #redactedverse #fanfic #mechanical bull #totally based off of a tiktok clip #shameless #don't care #happy darlin!#momma i think i wrote fluff!!!

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pycth · 3 months

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I fixate on one-liners too much, but can you really blame me when they hit like this?

The feelings that run through me whenever even the slightest pinch of a character’s canonical appearance is mentioned—

If y’all notice that bit of iridescence in his eyes, that’s color(s) associated with Freelancers in my canon ✨

Then I had a thought that since his eyes were brown, a natural hue, and my version on empowereds eye colors depend on their abilities unless you’re humanborn in which you have a bit of both (almost like heterochromia) 👀

Ergo making my version of Sam a humanborn Freelancer which I think really adds more to the struggles he’s been through and, if I really wanna get deep with it, even relating to Lovely in a way which would make having his hand in helping with the process of their turning a lot more meaningful because he can relate to the loss of an incredible ability you 1. didn’t know you had and 2. spent so long trying to manage it only to have it taken from you just like that. He sees a little of himself in them—and y’know Sam Collins is the kind of man that wants to give others the chance to have what he couldn’t.

#might be a lil much for just a character’s eye color #but I’m a knack for detail and depth #what can I say #anyway Sam had beautiful eyes thank you #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redacted verse #redactedaudio #redactedasmr #redactedverse #redacted sam #sam collins #redacted darlin #redacted vampires #pycthsketches

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damnknoxandothernonsense · 1 year

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three things (Sam Soulmate Au)

There are three things that a person should know before reading ahead:

They did not ever intend on returning to Dahlia- not until Quinn was captured or killed. Preferably the later.

They did not mean to end up in Wonderworld- Vamp territory of all places.

They definitely did not intend to find their soulmate at the abandoned amusement park either.

Before they had left to follow the signature Quinn left, they took note of their eyes- the mismatched iris’ symbolizing that they haven’t met their soulmate yet. From the time they were ten they had had this discoloration, and after countless years they still had not met the person that the universe destined for them. In all honesty they preferred it this way, the further away their soulmate was from them the better off they would be. The werewolf knew that the farther their soulmate was from them, the more safe they would be. Especially with Quinn out there- they wouldn’t want to bring the person that they were meant for into their mess.

The only reason that the werewolf- affectionately nicknamed “Tank” had went into Vampire territory in the first place was to take care of the first issue. Once he was gone they would be able to live their life. Be able to return to their pack. Find their mate. Stpp living in fear. They were able to sense Quinn- a nauseating feeling that consumed them more and more as they continuously approached the overgrown amusement park. As they entered the warded off land, they felt someone behind them. Without turning to look, they knew that it was a vampire. It was not Quinn- no there was a different feeling about it. All vampires had a particular aura, there were only minor differences between each one. Yet, this one was distinct in a way they could not place. It seemed… familiar, but it was new to them.

They spun around- met with a face they had never seen before. They took quick note of his matching eyes that seemed strangely familiar, before stepping back from the tall vampire “Can I help you?”

A smooth southern drawl escaped his mouth, one that could lull the most troubled of sleepers fall into a deep slumber even despite the harshness of his words “what the hell are you doing here?”

“You did not have to appear behind me like that jackass,” they rolled their eyes. Their arms were crossed protectively over their chest, as they continued peering around, trying to track down Quinn while the scent was still strong.

“Don’t act like you didn’t know I was going to be here. You are a shifter, your kind has superior detection skills. Which means that you came here despite every reason not to. And that tells me you need to start talking before I start defending my territory,” The vampire stated, eyes pointed at them.

“I’m just looking for someone, now can you fuck off? I’ll be gone soon enough,” They said, sick to their stomach with how strong the scent the brute omitted. They turned to start looking, only to have the stranger move in front of them before they could go any further. The man looked more pissed than before, standing over them with a certain attitude that had much more behind it than they could make out. It was more than the overall frustration with them and their refusal to explain themselves- there was more.

“That’s not going to cut it. Looking for who, Darlin’? Get more specific or get moving. Preferably the latter. It’s been a long night and I’m not feeling particularly chatty,” He stated shortly, attempting to intimidate the anger fueled werewolf.

“A vampire, his name is Quinn,” a soft growl escaped their throat, an uncomfortable feeling bubbling in their stomach at the name. To hear someone that had their soulmate use such a name with another person was almost enraging to Tank “and I hope your soulmate knows you call over people ‘darling’.”

The vampire’s eyes grew wide, as if he was not expecting to get called out on his behavior “What?”

“Didn’t hear me the first time dumbass? Is your soulmate aware that you call other people things like ‘darling’? Or do you blame that on your southern charm or some other bullshit?” the werewolf sneered, sharp canines slightly bared at the other.

“I was not aware that I met my soulmate,” he stated, cogs clearly turning in his head as he tried to find a reason for this “answer me one question, have you met yours yet?”

“Does it look like I have met my soulmate yet?”

“Actually yet, it does,” He stated bluntly. They finally understood his shock, and they struggled momentarily to get their phone out of their pocket. With shaky hands, they opened their camera and turned it to the self-facing camera. Sure enough, their eyes were once again matching to their original hue.

“It’s nice to meet you soulmate, the name is Sam- Sam Collins. Now why don’t you explain why you are looking for that damned vamp and we can figure this out together. What do you think about that?”

word count: 863

if you want to read more of what I’ve written, you can find my masterlist here!

if you want to ask for something to be written, you can find my guidelines here!

#knox's writing #redacted headcanons #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse #redacted sam #redacted sam collins #redacted sam/darlin #redacted tank #redacted darlin #sam collins #sam/darlin

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