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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 days

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Winter's King 12

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: have a good weekend.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You stand, still uncertain. You look at the king as he tilts his face up to the moonlight. The silver sheen washes over him with an unearthly glow. He looks lupine, much like your dream.

“Your highness?” You echo again, hands curling around the sides of your skirt.

“Will you continue to disregard my order?” He challenges as his gold eyes meet yours. You wince at the way they shine.

“No, your highness, I am only...” you hush yourself and clamp your lips tight. You turn and search around, numbly walking along the curve of the pond.

He growls as you reach the line of hedges into the next walkway.

“You will want to go much faster than that,” he warns as you hear him stand. “I will allow you some advance...” He exhales as you glance back at him, “ten...” he stares at you, his figure shrouded in shadow from far away, “nine...”

You blanch and tumble backward through the gap. You spin and stagger on your soles, throwing your arms out as your heart pulses madly. Something about his timbre, about his words, has you alight. There is something amiss about him.

You push your legs against your skirts and hurry blindly into the nocturnal void. The moonlight seeps in around the silhouette of leaves as you keep your hands ahead of you to prevent a collision. You try to see through the dark, like silk across your eyes, making out little more than hazy orbs.

You crash into a thicket of thorns and pull away from the rosy bunch. Their scent clings onto you as you turn to the left and dive down the next path. You don’t know these gardens, not like Debray. For all you know, you’re going even deeper.

You hear a step behind you and swirl to face it. You squint, trying to see who is there. Is it the king? Do you want it to be? What does he mean to do when he catches you? What is the meaning of this game?

You plunge back into a sprint, puffing as you pump your arms. You whimper and whine as you slow, legs heavy and feet dull. Where are you going? You don’t like this. You remember a night like this before, how the cold dew of the forest crept up your legs, feet hitting the earth in quick succession, the holler of men and snort of horses behind you.

You stagger and spin back. No, you can’t run anymore. You don’t like this. You don’t like those thoughts. That last night before you were taken to Debray, before you dawned the cap of your bearing. That orphan girl running from servitude.

You walk forward, shaking as you peer back and forth. You wade through the thick grey air. You hear a twig snap and a bush rustle, each noise from a different direction. Perhaps it is a rabbit or a chipmunk. You sniffle and wring your hands.

You must find the king. You will surrender this game and ask that he takes you back to the castle. You trudge over the beaten path and hear the soft trickle ahead. It must be the pond. The silver light blooms brighter as you come upon a space in the hedges.

Suddenly, there is only air beneath your feet. You kick out as something rigid wraps around your waist and lifts you. You wriggle desperately and cry out, your eyes tinging but not overflowing. Your fear has you clawing at the hold around your middle.

“Please, please, don’t hurt me!” You plead as you flail, “please, sir, I’ll go back to the castle--” you choke as the grasp on you slackens but your feet still do not meet the ground. You quiet as you recall your present, that you are not in that forest, that you are far from Debray.

You are sat upon the bench, the silver moon gleaming down on you as it outlines the broad shadow before you. King Geralt faces you, kneeling as you tremble and hug yourself. You put your head down in shame.

“Apologies, your highness, I was lost,” you reach to rub your cheek, flicking back your tears with your lashes, “I got confused.”

“No, it is I who should apologise, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he takes your hand between his big ones, “I only meant to make some fun.” He brushes his touch up your arms and squeezes as you drop your hand to your lap, “little maid, did I hurt you?”

You shake your head, “I was only... delirious. It is too dark out here. I cannot see,” you bite down and look away, “apologies, I did act out.”

“Little maid,” he tickles along your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine, “I would not let you get lost or hurt.” He tilts his hand to cradle your face, his thumb stroking your cheekbone, “what was it you were running from in your head? Who?”

“No one,” you lie. “Just a memory.”

“Memories are not just that,” he insists, “but I understand how they can hurt. Forgive me, treasure, I wasn’t--”

“Your highness,” the sullen voice has the king recoiling. He quickly plants his foot and stands. You rise as well, toying with that word he called you. Treasure. “The queen sends for you.”

Bryce steps out into the moonlight. You look at him then the ground. How long had he been there? How much had he heard?

“The queen,” King Geralt grumbles, “what is it she wants? It is late--”

“She would not say and I would not guess,” Bryce says, “but she screams for it. Like a yowling cat.”

The king sighs and lowers his head. He squares his shoulders and resets his posture. He steps away from you and gestures to his soldier. The king twists around and marches away. Bryce falls into pace with you as you follow. He is silent, you all are.

You approach the castle, guards lurking in the shadows, and are let past the front doors by a sombre pair. Inside, you follow the king through the great hall and up the stairs. You peek over at Bryce as you proceed down the corridor. He gently squeezes your wrist, just briefly, and carries on.

“Your highness,” Bryce speaks as you hear a racket ahead of you; screeching and crashing. “Should I escort the maid back to her chambers?”

“Cursed woman,” King Geralt mutters as he slows, Queen Jazlene’s door just ahead. He pauses and looks over his shoulder, “the cost of a kingdom...”

“Your highness?” Bryce prompts once again.

You echo him and step forward, “I could calm her. Bring some wine--”

“No, she will have no more of that,” the king declares sharply. “I wed her, I put my name next to hers, so it is I shall attend to her. Sir,” he looks at Bryce, “do as you suggest, put the maid in her chambers and I will put the queen in her place.”

“Aye, your highness,” Bryce bows his head and points you back, “come, maid, the night wears on.”

You glance up at the king. His golden eyes are wrought as his gaze holds yours for only an instant. You see the hesitation bob in his throat before he turns away. You mirror him and follow Bryce back along the corridor.

As you climb to the next floor and continue down another corridor, Bryce slows. He stops as he gets to the door and faces you. He takes a breath as he looks you up and down.

“It’s treacherous here in the summer kingdom,” he says, “but that will not change on the road. Mouse, you keep yourself well.”

“Thank you, sir, I am fine.”

“Aye, you do not take my meaning but you do not take the king’s either,” he puts his hand on his belt, “his favour might do you fine in this moment, but it is dangerous. Let not others notice so they may not envy it.”

You grimace and shake your head, “what do you mean?”

“Your little games do not need an audience. It is no tournament.”

Your chest sinks and your skin speckles. Is he accusing you of something?

“I... I haven’t done anything untoward. I would not, sir--”

“You may not,” he intones, “but we are all ruled by the will of the king.”

“Sir, the king is married to Lady Jazlene--”

“And we both see how they fare,” he states bluntly. “Carry my words with you, do with them as you may, but I could not leave them unsaid.”

Your eyes gloss and your nose tingles once more. He’s mad. Truly, he can’t think you and King Geralt. A maid and her master.

“I would not,” you repeat.

He huffs and nods curtly. He turns to the door and unlatches it, “go, rest your head while you can.”

“Sir Bryce--”

“I am bid protect you by the king,” he pushes the door inward and rests his hand on the frame, “not from him.” He looks past you, as if through, “little mouse, I do hope I am wrong as well but I know better than to depend on that.”

You shudder and tug at the end of your sleeve. You slump and drag your feet through the doorway. You stop, just inside, “good night, sir.”

He grunts and pulls the door shut. Your lip trembles as your heart races, just as it did in the garden. He is wrong. He must be. You saw yourself how the king is trying, he even said it was the queen he meant to game with earlier. It was only that she was too unwell. He said it!

And he goes to the queen’s chamber that night. He is not there. He has not been disloyal. The matter is not your concern. You serve wine, you lace gowns, you braid hair. You are only the maid.

⚔️

You return to the queen’s service the next morning. The world is a bit more familiar as you help her into her gown and twine her hair into an elaborate coif. Servants pass in and out of her chambers as they prepare for the royal party’s imminent departure.

“Why can we not keep this capital?” Queen Jazlene whines, “but my husband does insist on return to his frigid homelands.”

You say nothing as you sift through the old monarch’s jewelry chest. You present to her successor each gem, brooch, and chain. She has yet to turn any away though you wonder if there would be room in her already bustling luggage. Perhaps the cart will be a touch more crowded on your ride north.

“And yet my husband did come to me,” she boasts, “I think... hmm, well, perhaps this marriage won’t be so turbulent.”

You show her a cuff and she snatches it. She puts it on her wrist, turning her arm this way and that, as she oohs and aahs. She wiggles excitedly.

“I recall this piece. One year, when I came with father to court, the queen wore this cuff. You see the emeralds. I remember she was so proud of it even though all the court knew it was only gifted to her by her husband to distract from his mistress,” she trills, “oh, how foolish. But the old queen was so boring. It is a wonder the king didn’t dispose of her, who can blame him for taking an amour?”

She sighs and looks at the mirror, “and she wasn’t half so pretty as me.”

You remain silent, continuing to sort with her endless approval. You don’t think there is a single trinket she could ever turn away. You don’t see the need for so many of the same thing. Some stones are brighter than others but why not keep the brightest and do away with the rest.

“As I was saying,” she goes on, “last night when the king came to me, he was... almost meek. That man. Can you imagine? I admit I was distraught after the day I suffered but he listened and we spoke.” She strokes her fingers as she admires her oval nails. “There are some southern lords who will come north as well, some northern to stay behind. He says it will help us acquaint the two kingdoms into one.”

She drops her hands and pushes her shoulders straight, “he is wise. I suppose I should heed him if I am to be a good queen.”

You are want to agree but to do so aloud may be taken as insult. She might have done it sooner and saved herself some trouble. Yet it isn’t your place and you haven’t the wisdom of a queen. You’re merely a servant.

“Once I give him an heir, he will have to listen to me too. Yes, I will do what mother could never. Give my husband a son,” she drags her hand to her midsection, “I think last night...” she flutters her lashes dreamily. Her suggestion makes you squirm. Her and the king’s relations are hardly your concern. “It was better,” her voice is brittle, “even if...” she peers around and clamps her lips. She narrows her dark eyes, “close the door.”

You obey. You come back to her and return to your previous task. She reaches in to pluck out a string of pearls.

“He puts me on my stomach,” she whispers, almost as if she thinks you won’t hear, but she is speaking to you. There is no one else in the room. Perhaps she is only embarrassed that she has only to the courage to tell a maid. “And he behind me so I can’t see him and... he can’t see me but... but if he could...” she toys with the pearls, “if he’d just look at me, he might like it better.”

You lift a pair of medallions earrings and she ignores them. She tosses the pearls back in the chest and stands. You back away.

“He won’t let me touch him otherwise,” she mulls as she paces. “But he is warming. It is early, isn’t it? And compared to the first night... I don’t know. It will get better. It must.”

She quiets and stands by the window. Her anxiety is palpable. It’s uncharacteristic. You’ve never seen her uncertain of anything yet you can understand it. She is soon to set off to a new life and to brave a long road. When she reaches her destination, she will be a true queen. When you get there, you’ll still be a maid.

“I’ll go to him tonight,” she says and raises her head, “yes, yes, I will go to him and try again.” She spins and smirks at her grand idea, “maid, I must find something to wear for him. Well, nothing very much,” she remarks coyly, “but I will need a robe. Yes, I saw a satin one in the queen’s closet.” She swallows and stands as straight as she can, “my closet.”

You diligently cross the chamber and search the wardrobe. You find a white satin robe stitched with gold and silver. You turn to show the queen. She giggles and claps her hands.

“Wine,” she says, “I must find some courage too.”

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #the witcher #series #au #medieval au #winter's king

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scoops404 · 2 days

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I'm in a bad mood, so to make myself happy here are some fics I've been enjoying in the last few months, in no particular order. Some of these are incomplete. Please read tags on each individual story before reading <3

The Remedy to Everything - by @simply-smitten - this is such a good fic. When I was betaing months and months ago before this even came out, I told Smitten that this is going to be a new classic. She told me the ending last night and I am GATEKEEPING

Warm, Like Starlight - also by Smitten. She's like, talented or whatever. (this is a joke, I love Smitten)

Every Mountain Tells a Story by @czargasm - you know those AUs where you get sucked in and you know you're reading something by an expert? Yeah, that's this fic. And also it's just plain good. Still updating, but get in on this one early

Our Own Terrible Way by Chelsey Czargasm - this is epic. ANF to DNF pipeline is so believable and Chelsey really pulls it off. Good smut, good jealous, good banter. What more do you want?

what if we just by @alittledizzy - GUYS! When I read this it hit me so hard, like a truck, this fic was so necessary and so needed and it was like a balm to my soul (as many dizzy fics are and have been for many many years, yeah I have loved her a long time)

soft sunlight & soothed dogs by wooowriter - have I ever cared much for hybrid fics before? no, not really. Do I care now? Yeah, and it's this fic's fault. Realistic world building, realistic feelings. It's good shit.

fucked up and down bad by Dizzy and Alison, my home dogs. I got to beta read this one and I screamed the entire way through. It's so good. I really enjoyed it!

In Safety There is Bravery by @gottagetshiver - i just-- yeah. I liked this one, what can I say? Shiver is awesome and this fic is too.

going through the motions by @hardtofindneuro - neuro has to be next to Shiver, that's just the way the world works. This fic is good so good but extra warning to take the tags seriously. Neuro always hits that angst HARD, but it's definitely worth it <3

Okay I have to go back to work so I'll add more later :D

#dnf fic recs

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liminalmemories21 · 2 days

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There’s a way that panic can make you feel nauseous, and he has to swallow hard before he can get the words out. “Tell me what you need me to do.”

Trudie gives him an approving smile, like a teacher with a student who’s given the right answer. “You’re going to help me steal a statue.”

The Knave of Clubs . . . swears he'll take her part

liner notes below the cut

First things first. Yes, Iris is in this alot. No, there is no secret marriage. This is not a spoiler, this was referenced in the previous story in this series. The Carlos in this universe is a step to the left of the Carlos in canon, and he has different experiences. Also, this is my unhinged AU, which means I get to pick and choose which bits of canon I work with. I did not vibe with that one.

Second things second. This was going to be a caper, y'all. It was going to be a short caper. Carlos and TK were going to go to NOLA and help the Leverage crew take care of some business , and, I don't know, eat beignets and popsicles. Why popsicles and not po'boys? Because the last time I was in NOLA I had the best popsicles of my life - they sadly no longer exist, but I can resurrect them for fic. I also had excellent po'boys, but the popsicles were better.

[eyes fic] I don't know what happened? Okay, I do know. One of the weird upsides to writing a series is that you get to deal in consequences and messy afters, and the way that making a decision isn't the end to that decision, and what you did last time around keeps echoing in what you do this time. Nothing exists in isolation. And, I love love a story about what happens after - after the war, after the quest, after the reveal. How do you rebuild, what happens next. That is my die-hard kink. Also, there was S4 of Lonestar and I had . . . thoughts, questions, concerns, reactions. I worked them out in fic.

Third things third. My characterization of Trudie in this fic owes a debt to Mags Bennett in S2 of Justified. She was terrifying, and ruthless, and totally in control, and one of the most interesting characters - she's why that season was so good. Also, go watch Justified, it's fantastic.

Fourth things last. As ever, don't try this at home y'all, this is not how any of this works.

Reference links in final chapter, because see previous notes about being too much of a geek not to footnote.

And finally, the chapters aren't for @rmd-writes, but they're not not for her either (sorry @freneticfloetry- but this time, the structure did actually lend itself to chapters).

#knave-verse #tarlos #911 lonestar #au #fic complete

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diazsdimples · 3 days

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20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @dangerpronebuddie thanks friend!!

How many works do you have on ao3?

13! Will be 18 when I finish all my current wips (should be 19 but one has been abandoned 🥲)

What's your total ao3 word count?

230,841 words

What fandoms do you write for?

Exclusively 9-1-1, mostly because I deleted all my old British Actor RPF fics 😐

Top 5 fics by kudos:

1. Buck's Baby (By Accident) (Buddie)

2. For the rest of my life (for the rest of yours) (Buddie)

3. Sweet child of mine (Bucktommy)

4. In a drought I'll give you water (Buddie)

5. Fucking Finally (Finally Fucking) (Buddie)

Do you respond to comments?

Eventually 😬I try my best!!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

None of my published fics have a shred of angst. However, Frostpunk AU is full of it so it'll be that

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

All of them?? But probably Sweet child of mine or For the rest of my life (for the rest of yours) for hopeful endings

Do you get hate on fics?

Not really? I did have one person get mad at me for events that transpire in Buck's Baby (By Accident) but idc really

Do you write smut?

No. Never. Smut is terrible.

(This is a blatant lie, 7/13 of my fics are smut and I have 3 wips that have smut)

Craziest crossover?

I don't write crossovers.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

If I have, I'm gonna throw hands

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I know of!

Have you co-written a fic before?

Currently co-writing 2 with @hippolotamus and @theotherbuckley!

All time favorite ship?

Buddie. Always Buddie. Will always be Buddie. Followed closely by Bucktommy

What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I really hate to say this but probably my Single Dads AU. She's so beefy and the size of it has scared the hell out of me. As much as I love it, I don't think it gets as much traction as other wips and the beans just haven't been there.

What are your writing strengths?

I honestly don't know, I think I can write smut pretty well? And I'm not bad at cute stuff. The honest truth is I am extremely insecure about my writing abilities and think I'm average at best.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I struggle with dialogue as I often feel like I'm being too OOC. Also descriptions. I spend the most time sitting there thinking of how tf to describe something.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I can google translate pet names and that's where I draw the line. I don't want people to say that I'm saying stuff wrong.

First fandom you wrote in?

Marvel and Sherlock, at the same time.

Favorite fic you've written?

Play me like a fiddle is my labour of love and the fact that it flopped the way it did made me so sad. My next favourite would be You've got me whipped (Brat!Buck BDSM fic) cause it was so out of my comfort zone but I feel like I did it well, or In a drought I'll give you water because I have never been funnier in a fic than in this one.

Tagging (if you wanna): @theotherbuckley @hippolotamus @daffi-990 @watchyourbuck @bidisasterevankinard

@neverevan @aroeddiediaz @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg

@jesuisici33 @wikiangela @loveyouanyway @cal-daisies-and-briars @exhuastedpigeon

@kitteneddiediaz @thekristen999 @actuallyitsellie @loserdiaz @elvensorceress

@underwaterninja13 @rainbow-nerdss @smilingbuckley @spagheddiediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings

@thewolvesof1998

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truly-neutral-art · 18 hours

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Din/Luke Pacific Rim AU pt.3

Pt.1 | Pt.2

Welcome to part 3 of my madness as I continue to take inspiration from scenes in the movie. This is when Din get's a full view of Luke's scars (and is caught looking) not long after the drift compatibility tryouts. He still doesn't know of their origins, but he might find out soon 👀👀👀 (More info under the cut if you're interested).

Anyways, hope my insanity entertains y'all! There's still plenty more to come and perhaps even more in the works.

P.S. All the love that this idea has been shown has been a great motivator for me to work on the fic. So thank you to everyone who's interacted with these posts and have shown their interest. Glad to know I'm not alone in being interested in a niche ship and a 10 year old movie crossover.

More info about Luke's Scars: It starts with part of the timeline I've formulated.

2027 - Luke becomes a pilot with Biggs.

January, 2028 - Death of Paz; Birth of Grogu; Din leaves the Jaeger program

August, 2028 - Death of Biggs; Luke is injured;

2029 - Leia becomes a pilot and is Luke's new partner

So, essentially Luke joined the program very young (17) while Leia was still studying politics with the Organas. Biggs was Luke's drift partner and they piloted together for a year.

The destruction of Razor Crest and the death of Paz/disappearance of Din marked the turning point for the Jaeger program. Not long after that incident the Jaegers were struggling to fight back against the onslaught of Kaiju. More frequent attacks along with higher category Kaiju started to wear them thin.

In a particularly dicey situation, Luke and Biggs were deployed on their own to deal with a CATIII Kaiju while backup was on the way. Despite how skilled the two were, the Kaiju overwhelmed them before backup could come and their Con Pod was ripped from their Jaeger. The damage caused an energy serge through the pilot suits causing Luke to get his scars. Those injuries, plus the ones from getting tossed onto shore, also resulted in Bigg's death.

After hearing about this, and while Luke was recovering. Leia decided to join the program and began her training. By the time Luke was recovered she was graduating cadet school and they were able to pilot together. It took some time for Luke to get used to piloting again after being connected to someone who died, but he trained himself to feel the serenity in the drift and keep those memories at bay. Luke's control while in the drift is next to no one except maybe Anakin, but he hasn't piloted in a long time, so it's hard to say.

Speaking of Anakin, he isn't supper happy about his children being pilots, but there wasn't much he could do to dissuade them. After Padme's death during a Kaiju attack, and Anakin subsequently blaming himself for it, he threw himself into the program. He wasn't able to raise the twins because he was on duty so they were raised by Owen and Beru as well as mentored by the Organas (mostly Leia).

Leia is resentful of Anakin for leaving them when they were so young and had just lost their mother. Luke mostly blames himself in an unreasonable way and thinks he wasn't worth enough for Anakin to stick around. The reason Anakin did leave was so he could try to stop the Kaiju and make the world safe for his kids. However, in the process, he may have lost the time he could have had with them.

#dinluke #star wars #luke skywalker #din djarin #art #fanfic #fanfiction #the mandalorian #dinluke fanart #dinluke au #pacific rim au #leia organa #tru's dinluke pacific rim au

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robyn-i-guess · 2 days

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gerrymichael enjoyers and writers i want your opinion 🎤

ok so i have this au fic for gerrymichael where it's college au, and it's a like the whole bad boy/good girl (minus the fact they're both boys, and even that's questionable)

basically, gerry is stereotyped due to his more alternative looks and everyone assumes he's probably doing illegal things or just sleeps around a lot

meanwhile michael is the head of student council "goody two shoes" type, who most are sort of aware of but don't know anything about

gerry thinks about michael. a lot. he sees them in the halls for only a few seconds a day but thinks about him for a lot longer. hallway crush vibes. and when they get put into a painting class together, suddenly they have an opportunity to meet, and gerry is freaking out a usual amount. (there's more to the whole plot but that's just the beginning bit)

putting a short lil concept thing under the cut

Gerard Keay does not know Michael Shelley.

The only reason he knows their name is because they're in the student council, meaning it's not uncommon for their name to be said during school events.

He has only seen them in hallways, passing by in a rush while holding papers or books that always seem like they're going to fall out of their hands. Even in those moments, most of what Gerard is able to catch is a blur of golden curls and eyes that are ridden with exhaustion.

So, it is safe to say that he does not know Michael.

That fact only caused confusion to him whenever Gerard realized his strange excitement once learning that Michael would be in one of his classes for the semester.

It was an art class, one that he had picked due to him already being practiced is painting and drawing. He assumed it would be a fun class, or at least one that wouldn't be too stressful. However, when he had first walked into that classroom and saw Michael Shelley sitting at an area in the back, Gerard had assumed the emotion he was feeling was stress. He couldn't pinpoint why, it wasn't like he was intimidated by their status, but he couldn't shake the feeling of nervousness he felt when he accidentally locked eyes with them. He turned his head quickly in that moment, deciding to sit in the front of the room despite that not being where he'd usually prefer to be. Something about Michael sitting there made Gerard think twice about sitting in the back as he normally would.

The lecture went smoothly, it mostly being an introduction to the professor and what would be happening throughout the classes. So did the next, and then the next one after that. That didn't get rid of the feeling he felt, however, every time that Gerard walked into that room and attempted to avoid looking at the one with golden curls in the back. He knew he'd have to talk to them at some point, it was inevitable, but there was something about them that meant he was more nervous to talk to them than he usually would be. And he very much denied the idea that it could be caused by any... feelings he may have. Gerard ruled it as impossible, as he had never spoken to them, and he wasn't that much of an idiot to fall for someone he'd only mostly seen in hallways.

Michael wasn't one to speak up in class, and instead they'd work silently on any research on the history of art they may have been doing, only giving simple responses or nods when the professor would come around and ask how their work was coming along. When Gerard thought about it, he didn't really know what their voice sounded like because it was always quiet or unintelligible from their distance. That only made him more interested in talking to them.

That day never came, though, much to Gerard's disappointment.

They both went through that class without talking to each other once, and when Gerard left that room for the last time he couldn't help but feel like he had failed at some kind of goal. A failure that had meant he would be left with only seeing the elusive Michael Shelley in hallway rushes again, which annoyed him in a way he didn't understand.

He did talk to them one day, though.

(note this is old as heck lmao i've gotten better at writing since i wrote this)

anyways yeah. should i continue it or is it too basic idk, i want to write it for me but it would also be multiple chapters long and my "1k-words-is-rare-for-me" self probably won't bother to write it unless someone else is interested

#just want a consensus idk #if anyone has suggestions i will also take those #or if anyone wants to write it with me maybe.... :3c #(please i want to write a fic with someone it's fun)#anyways #yeah #very stereotypical. very american highschool vibes #realistically would be better as hs au but i don't feel right writing romantic interactions between minors for Clear Reasons #gerrymichael #gerry keay #gerard keay #michael shelley #doorkeay #robyn-i-guess

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anincompletelist · 1 day

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twenty questions for fic writers

thanks to @cricketnationrise @happiness-of-the-pursuit @kiwiana-writes

@ninzied @captainjunglegym for the tags friends! it's been a while since I've last done one of these so I figured I would participate again! xx

how many works do you have on ao3?

56! (technically 60 though… 😏🤫)

what's your total ao3 word count?

1,248,687

what fandoms do you write for?

RWRB (currently) [ 1D and teen wolf (past) ]

top five fics by kudos:

but if you could see us from a distance you'd know I've always been so close to you - the og sex curse one shot

Something Borrowed, Something Blue - enemies to lovers at june's wedding

I'll bet it all on me and you, I'll bet it all you're bulletproof - coworkers trivia fluff

praying our bridges don't make waves - soulmates with a twist

kiss me like you've got nowhere to be - roommates to lovers fluff

do you respond to comments?

nowhere near as much as I'd like to! my capacity for social interaction lately has been... lacking, to the say the least ksjhdkshd BUT I SEE AND READ THEM ALL AND I HOLD THEM SO CLOSE <3333

what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

ooh I can't usually do angsty endings so I'm carving my own loophole here -- the first two fics in the sex curse series are definitely my most angsty endings before they work their shit out in the third skjdhsjkhd

what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

most of mine do, but I'd say that overall the most fluffy ones are in the firstprince first kisses series!

do you get hate on fics?

I most definitely did in my old fandom but people have been generally very kind and supportive to me here so far! :')

do you write smut?

yes!

craziest crossover:

my george x firstprince hurt/comfort is very special to me <3

(but I also have a Jeff from bottoms x Shane from minx au in the docs so ksjhdhfjh that too)

have you ever had a fic stolen?

I hope not!

have you ever had a fic translated?

not in this fandom! but I have had some lovely folks record some podfics of my works! (here and here!)

have you ever co-written a fic before?

not for rwrb! (yet???? ksjhdkjhfkjh)

all time favorite ship?

I gotta go with fp! they got me like that niall horan ear crawling gif fr I'll never be the same

what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

oh gosh I'm not sure. I HOPE I finish them all but I also have an obscene amount so ksjhdksjdhf not crossing anything off yet!

what are your writing strengths?

I think dialogue? it's always the part of my fics that I write first, and then I build the rest of the story around it. I hope it's a solid foundation!

what are your writing weaknesses?

there's a fine line between explaining and over-explaining and I think sometimes I fall into the second category skjdhkjhf. I love some introspection as much as the next guy but I'm working on only including details that feel most pertinent to the story.

thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I love it! I think it can be so special and can be another way to connect readers with the characters and the story. I took Spanish all four years of high school so I'm a little rusty now, and studied French for a while a few years ago and just picked it back up recently! my translations aren't always perfect but luckily I've had some very kind people to check or point these things out for me :)

first fandom you wrote in?

..... hollywood heights sjkhdjkhgdfh

favorite fic you've written?

oh no. I am so bad at perceiving myself ksjhdjkdjfhg. I think each of my fics definitely served a purpose for me while writing them, but lately I've found myself returning to these three (I'm breaking the rules yes sorry):

Something Borrowed, Something Blue

there were pages turned with the bridges burned (everything you lose is a step you take) - diabetic!Alex

treading water in the deep, just waiting for the tides to meet -(soulmates)

but also there's a wip I'm working now which..... might take first place when I post skjdhkjsdh WE'LL SEE!

PLEASE PLEASE CONSIDER THIS OPEN TAG IF YOU'D LIKE TO DO IT! with all of the tumblr nonsense and how behind I've been on here lately I'm all over the place with tags at the moment.

other tags (no pressure!): @firenati0n @nocoastposts @wordsofhoneydew @thedramasummer

@heysweetheart-writes @stellarm @suseagull04 @bigassbowlingballhead

@eusuntgratie @magicandarchery @read-and-write- @iboatedhere

@anchoredarchangel @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @alasse9 @itsmaybitheway

@getmehighonmagic @rmd-writes @sparklepocalypse

#tag games #about me

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aitadjcrazytimes · 5 months

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#lmao #for anyone who's curious the process went:#send ask to aita official #blog blows up #someone realizes its a chexer fic #i follow them bc they seem cool #i join their rvb server #their encouragement pushes me to finish the Actual Fic i was working on #i expand the fic to be more of a whole au after it comes out much better than expected #the next fic in the au that i work on has to do with a character's brain injury #this leads me to do research into brain injuries #''......huh. this sounds. a lot like the neurological symptoms that my doctors have been saying is just part of my anxiety disorder''#think on that for a while #go to the ER for unrelated reasons #remember my theory #bring it up to the doctor #Doctor Immediate Concern #doctors orders a ct scan #''eeyup! that there's some atrophying and a chiari malformation! y'ever had a head injury''#(i had had several)#''well! shit! time to refer you to neurosurgery :) see if we cant do somethin about all that memory loss and severe pain and shit''#and now we are here #it also lead me to research osddid systems for the first fic #and now my therapist is having me tested for osdd because i did not know that those symptoms were not a thing everyone experiences #so like. thanks for helping me meet friends who could encourage me to engage with the things i like + learn more about myself #^ ^ <3 #im actually not gonna say ''ok last update fr this time'' bc idfk maybe something WOULD be funny to post on here

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ew-selfish-art · 7 months

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Dp x Dc AU: Bruce has a 'if you can't beat them, join them' mentality about the tabloids claiming he adopts too many kids- Developing foster homes that are paid for through the Wayne inheritance, personally vetted by the Bats, they're the leaders in the space for child health outcomes and family placement. Insert Danny.

---

Bruce has too much wealth, too many rumors and not enough reach into the abhorrent foster homes around Gotham to improve them. Tim ends up being the one to suggest it- He's the one who buys up their real estate for their safe houses after all- and Bruce is more than ready to pull the metaphorical trigger to get new clean welcoming spaces, Bat-background checked fosters and a new era of adoption in Gotham underway.

He's lobbied the state and the federal government for reforms of course, but this is a project he can micromanage. He spends time with every kid that comes through, talks with all the families that want to adopt and makes sure that these miniature homes are provided only the very best. Alfred personally hires all the staff, and with Barbara more than happy to help relocate the unhoused children she spots while they patrol, the project is a glowing success.

Occasionally, spots in their houses fill up, and those are the weeks were Cass takes on the Cowl of Batman- Bruce Wayne will personally invite a child in need to his home. He always has one of his kids present (they rotate on a pre-determined schedule) and he does his best to try and get them to understand that they deserve the world, have all the potential that anyone else has and can achieve a bright future. That he will personally aid them in their ambitions.

PR goes crazy for it of course, but Bruce and all of his children know its genuine. Almost too genuine, because a betting pool 'WILL THEY BE ADOPTED' regularly circulates between the siblings and the entire JL when someone spends time at the manor. And not just the black-haired, Blue-eyed kids get picked as favored outcomes- but obviously the running joke gets passed around.

It's a Thursday night when Bruce gets the call that the houses have once again filled up, and that there is a child in need of a home. The social worker (he knows her as Marsha and he has flowers planned to be sent on her birthday next week, like he does for all of his employees) (Say micromanaged one more time) explains that the kid is a bit cagey but has opened up with some humor. She explains that he has a few strange... mannerisms. She's not sure what to make of him, a non-gothamite for sure but something is, well, distinctly 'not from around here' about his energy.

Danny arrives at the house, meets Duke and Alfred, and by the time Bruce meets him at the dinner table it seems as though Marsha had it all wrong. This kid was laughing, he was teasing, he was totally playing along like he'd gone through nothing. Bruce is glad he's in high spirits but its just so... so different from all the other children he's taken in.

Bruce re-focuses on the conversation when Duke mentions something flashing, and its the first time that Danny goes quiet. Entirely still.

"...you noticed that?" Danny quietly asks, a bit of disbelief in his tone.

"You don't have a flashlight on or something do you? It was super bright whatever it is that you had in your hand a second ago?" Duke tries to sound chill but he's looking very much not chill. Bruce saw nothing, and that puts him further on edge.

"Look... I uh, I've been though... I've been through a lot lately. And the last lab I was in kind of, messed with me. I'm normally much better at dealing with it all, I promise." Danny sounds nervous, and the room seems to chill.

"Ah shoot, sorry." Danny notices something and frantically apologizes.

"Sorry for what Danny? You've done nothing wrong but I am worried about you- You said you were in a lab?" Bruce is desperately trying to calm him down while not slipping into Batman interrogation mode.

"Uh, yeah, like a lot of labs. It should get warmer in a second, its just cause I startled, I promise."

"You're a meta." Duke speaks softly and with hope in his voice- Danny is looking between them with wide eyes filled with fear.

"I mean I don't technically have the gene-"

"Danny, have you told any of your case workers where you were? Do any authorities know what you've been through?" Bruce needs to know, desperately, that who ever gave this young boy super powers is brought to justice. Danny goes quiet.

"I'm really sorry." He says softly, but he doesn't leave them.

Duke and Bruce try to ask a few more questions but the silence that meets them declares the conversation over, even with Duke admitting he himself is a meta. Danny didn't even look up from his plate. They watch a movie after dinner, and Danny seems to get back to the smile-y happy guy he had been before dinner.

Each of the bat-fam have their own interactions with Danny- And even if they're getting along amazingly, Danny won't open up. He doesn't open up to his provided therapist. Doesn't talk to Alfred. No one knows what's up.

So when Marsha calls Bruce back explaining they now have a spot for Danny and he can move out of the Manor... Bruce replies that he'd like to get started on Adoption paperwork, so long as Danny is fine with it.

---

Turns out, Danny is fine with it. he's both the newest Wayne and their newest case. (And godamnit, his new family is going to avenge him. If only he'd let them try.)

Danny figures out that Duke= Signal early on because of that dinner, and if he's going to keep his parents out of jail, he needs to be as close to the investigation as possible. He knows that he shouldn't protect the Fentons, but he feels the upset in his core at the thought of letting them befall any harm. He has to protect them. Has to protect Jazz and her hiding spot as a mole within their lab. Has to.

Even if it meant lying to his new family who loves him, and who he loves in equal return. Even if it means lying to The Bats.

---

Tabloids go crazy about the black-haired blue-eyed thing of course, but no poll was ever taken by the batfam or the JL who know the whole story.

#Danny has his powers destabilized by the various lab experiments but he's slowly getting control back #Duke notices Danny phasing his hands through the table/silverware by accident- it just looks like slight of hand tho #Danny figures out the bats and the best he can do is get adopted #friends close and enemies (lol not really) closer #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #danny phantom #dc crossover #dp crossover #long post #dc x dp fic #please i beg of you- write the other siblings interactions #someone tell me why I left Jazz to sabotage their parents and what to do with her next #jazz looking at danny who now has every possible resource to save them and not using it like- my guy #danny's core working against him like stockholm syndrome basically #like his protected them for this long so now he feels compulsion #danny gets adopted au #bruce adopts danny au

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decarbry · 2 months

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#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #aizawa shouta #Aizawa fan art #eraserhead #so my favorite take on Aizawa's life post-UA is where he just. continues to spiral #after they graduate he continues to pull away from Hizashi and Nem until they hardly ever hear from him. it's like pulling teeth getting hi #on the phone and impossible to see in person. working himself to death in the underground hero world and making pennies #sometimes so deep in it that he has bouts of houselessness but refuses to ask anyone for help. for YEARS.#so when his friends finally pry themselves an opening they find him at rock bottom and are the only real reason he gets pulled out of it at #all to become the Aizawa we know in canon #he spends the next few years after leaving UA and prior to joining an agency as a self-described terrible friend and all he's good for is #being an underground hero so he runs himself down to do so #I love fics that focus on this era it's so good #they get Dark but that's how I like em #more of that please #and all of my Aizawa art adheres to this telling of his past #even in the Yabureme AU #(but not Immolation AU lmao)

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tennessoui · 7 months

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ko-fi fic uploads

hey guys, I'm going to start putting some of my new tumblr prompt fills and writing warm-ups (ficlets of 4k-6k length) up on my ko-fi!!

Monthly supporters will be able to go into the gallery tab on my ko-fi and click on an uploaded image. The title will be which tumblr-based au the ficlet fits into and how many words it is. The description beneath the image will be a quick summary of the au and a link to the google doc containing the ficlet. The "root" au post, aka the post that started the au on my blog, will be linked as well on that google doc.

This will not affect my wips and progress on them in any way! I feel like that's very important to state - I write these sorts of ficlets all the time because it helps get me in the writing mindset for writing ao3 fics. I will just be spending a little extra effort on them to put them up on ko-fi.

I will NOT be posting any ficlets on my ko-fi that you need to read to understand a fic on ao3 - that's some disney monster conglomerate kind of shit. I will also still be posting shorter ficlets (1k-3k) on tumblr as I write them, especially if I'm answering a prompt someone sent me here. Again, I think it'd be a bit of dick move to not do that

I'll try to vary which ficlets go up on ko-fi and every time I upload one, I'll make a post about which au it is as well as a link to the page in case anyone wants to, idk, unsubscribe for a month because they hate the hopeless in coruscant au, and then refollow next month because they enjoy the playmaker au etc etc

I'm definitely still trying to figure out what I want this to look like and what feels fair or reasonable, so hopefully this isn't a huge mess on my end!

All this being said:

I've posted the first ficlet/fic on ko-fi: it's for the Senator Menace AU, an au that's basically "What if phantom menace but reversed? how fucked up would anakin get over the youngling his father master died to protect?"

the first au post is here // my ko-fi is here

#obikin #my fics #i really hope this works ok #i know fan artists do like monthly subscribers or supporters #on patreon or ko-fi #but i haven't really seen fic writers do it #so i really don't know how it's going to work #i think the lowest for monthly supporters is $4 ? but no one has to go higher or anything!#it's not tiered membership/supporting #so if you do the lowest you should still have access to everything #im applying for grad school in the next few months and i saw the application fees are like. wild.#LOL #but commissions got really stressful for me at times #but i think this could be a good sorta thing?#maybe?#i'll reblog this once at a reasonable time tomorrow and if nothing comes of it thats also fine fr #accepting suggestions on this too if people have ideas #ideas for aus for ficlets and also ideas for how to improve this #if it turns out to be confusing or a clusterfuck #yes i do understand that anyone could share that link with anyone and get access for anyone #but im hoping that that happens not a lot or not widespread #also honestly this will not affect working on my wips #or new fics #cause lol if people wanted me focused theyd just take away my tumblr or somethign #im a lil stressed about this if you couldn't tell from all these tags #and the late night for me posting time lol

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grasslandgirl · 11 months

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THE THING THEY DONT TELL YOU WHEN YOU START A LONG FORM NARRATIVE PLOT-FOCUSED FIC FOR THE FIRST TIME AFTER ONLY WRITING RELATIONSHIP-CENTRIC GET TOGETHER FLUFF IS THAT YOU DO ACTUALLY. HAVE TO FIGURE OUT THE PLOT. AGONIES UPON AGONIES!!!!

#noble pining au #i dont!!!!!! know whats going to GODDAMN happen next. if im honest #ive been putting off deciding on what the climax and culmination of act 3 is gonna be til i get there and. uh oh! guess whos there!#AND STILL DOESNT KNOW HOW THIS THING IS GONNA END #and i dont wanna leave it open ended at the climax like i did w my bb21 fic bc like. i found that unfulfilling of an ending personally as a #writer. and i dont want that for noble pining bc ive spent three years working on it slowly #and i want it to have an ending that is fulfilling to me and to the reader and for the characters.#and lik eive been figuring out like individual endgames for all the characters for where they'll END but like. i dont know how to GET THERE #augh. anyway #if anyone has any suggestions or advice #or if any beloved mutuals w a lot of free time on their hands wants to read it and give me some feedback and actionable plot-based suggestio #that would be genuinely wonderful. but mostly im just venting and spitballing here #and im sure an idea will come to me eventually. they always do

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youssefguedira · 2 years

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welcome back to diabolik au everyone! in which they are actually beginning to get somewhere

Two days after his first meeting with Di Genova, and with three days left of Merrick’s deadline, Joe wakes with a sense of looming dread. He still has no idea how he’s going to manage to bring Merrick the real paintings in three days, nor does he have any real way of escaping the situation - he doesn’t imagine Merrick will let him go that easily, even if he resorts to fleeing the country.

A knock on his door draws him out of his thoughts. “Mr. al-Kaysani?” a voice asks. “I have your breakfast.”

Joe shakes his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts, takes a few breaths to steady himself, and answers. “Come in, please.”

Roberto pushes open the door, wheeling a trolley with a white tablecloth draped over it and a silver tray on top with him. He had been assigned by the hotel to assist Joe, but Joe’s barely seen him at all, and he barely speaks.

“Thank you, Roberto,” Joe says. Roberto nods and leaves the room.

Joe lifts the lid from the tray to reveal a neat-looking plate of food that Joe barely notices, because placed carefully in front of it is a small piece of paper. They were fake, is all it says.

Joe picks up the note and flips it over. The back is blank, and the note itself is made up of cuttings from what Joe assumes are newspaper articles. There’s no identifying information, but there’s only one person who could possibly have sent it.

And Joe has a sneaking suspicion that that person may be much closer than Joe had thought.

“Roberto?” he calls, standing up and opening the door. “I have a question.”

“Can I help you?” Roberto asks.

“Do you know anything about this?” Joe holds up the note. Roberto crosses the room to stand in front of him, his eyes flicking down to study the note, and Joe tracks the movement. There had been something about the man that had seemed familiar before, but now…

“What would make you think I would know anything?” Roberto asks. It’s not a denial.

“A hunch, I suppose,” Joe says. “Do you know anything about Di Genova?”

It’s a risk, one Joe wouldn’t take unless he was almost completely certain he was right. Roberto’s expression doesn’t change at all. “I have heard he is not the sort of person you would want to meet,” he says.

“And if I did want to meet him?” Joe asks.

“Why would you want to do that?” Roberto asks.

Joe decides to go for the truth. If he’s wrong - which he doesn’t think he is, but he could be - then how could this possibly make the situation he’s already in worse? “Because I am desperate,” he says, “and I think he may be the only person who can help me.”

Roberto is silent for a long time, studying Joe’s expression. “In that case,” he says finally, and this time his voice is lower, almost familiar. He reaches back to grasp something at the back of his neck, and then pulls off his face - which, Joe realises, must have been a mask the whole time - and lets his hand drop.

The man standing before Joe now is both familiar and unfamiliar at once. Joe hadn’t seen his face when they’d met before, but there’s no mistaking his eyes. Di Genova.

The thief doesn’t flinch when Joe reaches up without really thinking about it at all, when Joe’s fingertips brush his cheekbone, tracing over the lines of his face. There is a kind of danger in it, in being so close to this man who could probably kill him without even thinking, and yet the thief stays completely and perfectly still. And when he looks at Joe, something about him seems to soften around the edges - not quite gentle, but something close to it.

“I spoke to the police,” Joe says after what feels like an eternity, letting his hand drop. “Asked after an Inspector Smith. They told me that man doesn’t exist. So I wondered who could have spoken to me that night, but it was you, wasn’t it? With one of those.” He gestures to the mask in the thief’s hand. “Not exactly an infallible disguise. Did you think I wouldn’t possibly find out?”

“By the time you did, I would have been long gone,” the thief says. “If everything had gone to plan. But this is not what you wanted to talk about, is it?”

Instead of answering straight away, Joe steps away and sits down on the edge of the bed. The thief’s eyes track his every movement. He doesn’t move.

“I told you about the deal with Merrick,” Joe begins. “It’s not the first time I’ve done this kind of thing. What I do - what my friend and I have been doing for a few years - is sell fakes to corrupt businessmen with more money than morals and use the information we find on them to expose their corruption. I thought we were untraceable, but it seems Merrick traced us, or more specifically me. He knew, or guessed, the paintings were fake, and he wanted to make a new deal.”

“What kind of deal?” the thief asks, and this time he moves, crossing the room towards Joe to sit beside him.

“I have four days to bring him the real paintings. Three, now. Or he releases all the information he has on me to law enforcement. I can’t contact anyone else in time, and if I try to run, he’ll release it anyway and I’ll have to go into hiding. I don’t know of anyone who can possibly help me, except you.” He doesn’t look at the thief when he says it. “I know you have no reason to, but-”

The thief reaches over with one hand, tilting Joe’s head gently to face him. Joe is frozen at the contact, at the way the thief’s eyes flick over his expression. He doesn’t dare move.

“I will do it,” the thief says after a moment, moving his hand away. “The paintings. I can find them for you in that time. And I will take the file he has on you, too. That way he won’t be able to threaten you again.”

“In only three days?” Joe asks, half disbelievingly. “That can’t be possible.”

There’s the tiniest hint of a smile on the thief’s lips, what Joe imagines must pass as a wide grin on anyone else. “I have my ways. Have some faith, Joe.”

It’s strangely reassuring, even though it shouldn’t be. There are only inches of space between them. “And what will you expect in return?” Joe asks. “I can’t imagine you would do all of it for free.”

“Consider it a favour,” the thief says. Joe raises his eyebrows in disbelief, which makes the thief’s almost-smile widen just a little. “Is it really that unbelievable? I do not need anything from you, Joe.”

“Not unbelievable,” Joe says. “Just unexpected. Given everything that I’ve heard, some of which you told me.”

“Perhaps I have changed my mind,” the thief says. They are so, so close now, close enough that Joe could lean in and-

“What happens after?” Joe asks, largely to distract himself from that line of thought. “You said nobody knows your true face. I could go to the police if I wanted to. This could all be a trap.”

“It could be,” the thief says, but doesn't elaborate. “I will find you in two days. There is a cafe I will meet you at, and I will tell you where you can find the paintings then. That will give you enough time.”

“How will I know it’s you?”

“A code phrase. I will tell you, ‘Yusuf al-Kaysani, you are the most beautiful man I have ever met.’”

Joe takes a moment to remember how to breathe after that. And then he asks, because he can’t resist any longer, “What’s your name?”

The thief is quiet for a moment, and Joe thinks he isn’t going to answer, but then he says, “Nicolò.”

It suits him. “Nicolò,” Joe says, testing it out. There is something unreadable in Nicolò’s expression when he says it. “In two days’ time, then, Nicolò.”

“In two days’ time,” Nicolò repeats. He pulls away abruptly and stands. “I will see you then.”

Joe watches, half mesmerised, as Nicolò pulls his mask back on and seems to transform seamlessly back into Roberto. But this time when he speaks, it’s with his own voice. “Goodbye, Yusuf.”

He leaves, and Yusuf is once again alone.

#neon writes #the old guard #kaysanova #diabolik au #ill go through and add links later but uh. have this #what will happen next? you may wonder. well i dont actually know #so we'll see #userlinax #userlyde #usertriz #swquser #lazynbored #i couldnt be bothered to think of a name for nicky's secret identity so i just lifted roberto directly from the movie #anyway this came about because i wanted to write diabolik fic but couldnt. so you get them instead. enjoy #i hope this reads right. i dont know how romance or flirting works. so i just wrote some words #nicky is the same as diabolik here in the sense that he has No Chill about any of this #joe: have a problem :(#nicky immediately: what do you need. do you need me to kill for you. because i'll kill for you

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