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nerdpoe · 11 months

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Tim is totally not a hero AU

He definitely isn't. Definitely.

Like, okay, maybe Batman got a little violent and maybe Dick was being a butt and not going back to Gotham to at least hover over Batman's shoulder disapprovingly, and MAYBE Tim had taken it upon himself to cobble together some dark clothes and a discarded kevlar vest and just like. Stalk Batman. Just a little.

Just enough to pop up and ask really loudly when he started going too far "BATMAN ARE YOU GONNA KILL HIM? IN FRONT OF A CHILD?" full of exaggerated gasps.

Maybe he memorizes Batman's patrol route and uses it to terrorize the man into not beating people to death.

Like, Batman starts getting a little too into it and suddenly there's a child's squeaky voice shouting shit like "hit him with the chair!" or "I can't believe I'm about to watch someone die in real time! Hold on a minute lemme get tiktok pulled up!" or "Hi Batman how is it-stop trying to catch me! I'm helping you whether you like it or not!"

Perhapsest once Batman starts calming the fuck down, Tim decides to use his cobbled together suit when he goes out to take pictures of crimes and hand them over to Gordon.

So what if people started calling him a weird moniker? Alright, maybe he responds to it sometimes, but like. He's not a hero.

He isn't!

Even if the other Leaguers keep saying he is!

Basically Tim is a feral totally-not-a-hero hero and everyone but him and Batman recognize that they're partners.

This leads to many confusing situations.

Jason guns for Tim?

"Literally why are you after me I don't even know you." "Batman replaced me-!" "No? He hasn't had a kid sidekick or adopted a kid since. Go talk to a therapist, not me." "But you're the replacement?" "But I'm not?" "But you're everywhere he is?" "Yeah, because I'm better than him and he needs Help."

followed by staring at each other like dogs that were barking at each other until you opened the gate, and now they're kinda like "idk what to do now"

"Hey kid, think you can convince your dad to not do this stupid plan? "???My dad is in Cairo?" "What? Batman's in the Tower?" "Batman's not my dad?" "Your...mentor, then." "He wishes he was."

"How's it going, Tim? Haven't seen you on patrol lately!" "Why are you talking to me, you literally told me to fuck off when I tried to get you to help stop your quasi-dad from killing people." "Well, you're B's new partner, so I figured-" "He can't afford me." "What?" "Did I stutter?"

#tim drake #batman #story prompt #maybe more like #story idea #hmmmmmm #tim drake au #don't even know what they'd call him #shadow for shadowing Batman?#Menace for terrorizing Batman?#Cricket like jiminy cricket for stopping batman from killing like how jiminy cricket acts like a conscience #idk #all good ideas tho

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knitepercival · 2 months

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Here’s our favorite gentleman thief, A.J. Raffles! 💎🎩

#aj raffles #rafflesweek2024 #crime and cricket #raffles #i won’t be following the prompt list this year since i started my drawings ahead of knowing #but i look forward to seeing what the other raffleites do for them!!#art #fanart #digital art #my art

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covesdadappreciation · 1 month

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I used @luvmake (prompts for exes to lovers) and @celestialwrites's (fluffy romance dialogue prompts) prompts for this! They make awesome writing prompts and deserve lots of support :)

#I was feeling silly on that second drawing.#if you know me irl no you dont #our life #our life now and forever #mc #our life oc #oc #qiu lin #tamarack baumann #Cricket #Cricket Dad AU #art #our life art #olnf #olnf mc #olnf qiu #olnf tamarack #writing prompts

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cricketnationrise · 3 months

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For the ficlet fest: 12:00 a.m. the V & A, Alex Claremont-Diaz

Wrote this on my phone at work so please forgive any mistakes! Yes we are working on a Saturday. yes I hate it thanks. but at least I can disappear into ficlet prompts for a bit over lunch :) hope you like it, I went so sappy I might as well have been a forest for this one

❤️🤍💙❤️🤍💙

12:00am, v&a

“Thanks so much for your help, Gavin.”

“Of course, Mr. Claremont Diaz. Anything for you or His Highness, you know that.”

“I thought I said you could call me Alex,” he teases. “And I’m very sure he’s told you to call him Henry.”

“Force of habit I’m afraid,” Gavin says ruefully. “I’ll let you do the finishing touches and send him right along when Her Royal Highness drops him off.”

Alex sends Gavin off with a decidedly sloppy salute before turning back to the space with a proud grin, overwhelmed with what they accomplished over the last few hours.

Renaissance City is always beautiful, always takes his breath away each time Henry brings him here. There’s something special about the statues and the history represented in this room. But mostly, Alex loves that Henry loves it. Admittedly, Alex usually gets distracted by Henry’s beauty, so it’s nice to stand here alone for a moment and soak in both the exhibit and his additions.

The little battery candles he and Gavin scattered around make the whole place glow, the automated flickering lending a sense of magic to the scene. The flowers Pez had convinced the museum to allow are spilling over every surface, their light fragrance perfuming the air. And woven through the petals, illuminated by the candles, hanging from the ceiling, some decoratively framed, are strips of paper, in a rainbow of colors and a variety of weights — each with a quote that Alex painstakingly copied by hand. Quotes from their now-famous emails, from his and Henry’s speeches over the years. Quotes solicited from family members — and friends so close they might as well be blood. Quotes from Henry himself, whispered and crooned and sometimes yelled at Alex, etched into Alex’s memory. Quotes pulled from history and movies and books — Henry’s favorites.

The only words not displayed, in fact, are the ones Alex has been painstakingly crafting, agonizing over, starting and restarting, practicing every spare minute he’s alone, hoarding them for the perfect moment — for tonight.

Historically, Henry’s been the wordier half of their relationship, even his scattered post it notes are more eloquent than Alex without even trying. Alex can write with feeling and sincerity, but it doesn’t come naturally — he’s always been better out loud, or with actions. Henry’s never complained, never even intimated that he wants more written words from Alex, but—

Alex wants to give him all the words in his head, in his heart, in his very soul. He wants Henry to be able to have that written record. He wants future students and historians and random people on the internet to be able to look back after he’s gone and say holy shit Alex Claremont Diaz loved Henry Fox Mountchristen Windsor with awe — wants to carve out a piece of history with his love for Henry as the chisel.

And then Alex can hear footsteps — slow, deliberate heels against the shiny marble floors — echoing softly as they approach the entrance. Alex recites the opening of his speech in his head, feels for the ring in his pocket, and faces the entrance.

His heart, which had been racing with each step, suddenly slows with sure contentment at the sight of blonde hair and sky blue eyes that go wide when they see Alex inside the bedecked splendor of Renaissance City.

“Alex…”

Alex beams as Henry looks around in awe, takes a deep breath, and gives Henry his words.

#cricket writes #suseagull04 #ficlet fest 500 #I’m a simple lady #I see a v&a prompt and write a proposal fic #I’ve written it before #and I’ll write them again

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radioactivepeasant · 5 months

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Fic Prompts: Free Day Thursday

(Picks up where Viper left off)

"You know you've got like a whole bucket of cactus paddles down there?"

Jak sauntered back into the throne room from the hidden door and tossed Damas a sealed bag of roasted crickets.

"I should hope it's a full bucket, considering I picked those this morning."

Damas pulled out one of the cooked insects, plucked off the legs, and popped the rest into his mouth.

"You don't eat the legs?"

Jak draped himself over the edge of the throne to snatch a handful of crickets from the bag.

"They get stuck in my teeth," Damas complained, "I save them for my birds."

Daxter snickered. "Even Pecker?"

"If Pecker doesn't like the food, he's free to fly back to Onin," replied the king with an almost mischievous look.

"Oye, you didn't mess with anything in the kitchens, did you? The head cook is...tetchy."

"She's a miserable old cuss and she threw a knife at me," Jak said indignantly.

"She throws knives at everyone. You're lucky it was only a knife."

Around another mouthful of crickets, Jak made an appalled expression. "What else does she throw?!"

Damas grimaced and rubbed his forehead as if remembering an old injury. "Whatever is closest. Pans. Porridge. Whole onions. Cactus paddles with the spines still on."

Daxter started to come closer, but glanced at the dead snake still decorating the dais and thought better of it. "Hey, Jak doesn't need to go to the kitchens to experience that! All he has to do is get distracted while on the Leaper again and he'll have a mouth full of prickly-pear!"

"That wasn't my fault!" Jak protested hotly.

Damas raised a brow. "Oh? I hadn't heard about this one."

Hoping to avoid retelling the story, Jak quickly changed the subject.

"Wait, can you actually eat cactus?" he demanded.

He moved to sit cross-legged directly in front of the throne, and began examining the viper's mouth to get an idea of how to harvest the fangs later. Absentmindedly, he reached a hand back behind him, and was too deep in focus mode to register that this wasn't Daxter or Keira he was non-verbally bumming snacks off of. Nonetheless, Damas made a goodnatured scoff and placed several more crickets in his hand.

"You can eat specific kinds of cactus," Damas clarified. By the emphasis he placed on "specific", it was fairly obvious he was anticipating Jak trying to eat random cacti in town.

"Only the ones with the paddles like you saw, understand?"

"Sure, sure." Jak brushed this off. "But what do you make with them, though?"

Damas inspected the bag of crickets and sealed it back up to ensure that they would have some snacks during the coming meetings. "You use them for just about anything you need a vegetable for, honestly. I tend to grill them with lemon. Some people boil them for salads. Sig's mother is known in the East Quarter for frying it in batter and selling it in little cups."

"Ooh! We still haven't met Sig's ma!" Daxter chirped. He grinned wickedly. "We should ask her about Sig's embarrassing baby stories."

"She has no shortage of them," Damas agreed.

Daxter glanced back at Jak, happily munching crickets, and shuddered.

"On a scale of one to "Jak eats things raw if he can't figure out how to cook them", how hard is it to cook?"

Jak looked insulted. Damas snorted.

"After the afternoon appointments, I'll teach you one of the simpler methods. You won't need much- Jak, don't touch the fangs. We still need the evidence intact."

"I was just looking!" Jak defended.

"With your hands?"

With a gusty sigh, the teenager scooted back to the right of Damas’s seat. He looked a little cross, but it faded soon enough.

"What appointments do you have, anyway?"

Damas stood up to stretch. Precursors knew he wouldn't get a chance in the next few hours.

"Third bell after noon through fifth bell is reserved for Arbitration Court," he said. "Which is why I do not usually call you during those hours. My job as king is to uphold the safety of my people, ensure the continued functioning of the Beacon and the water filtration system, mediate disputes not serious enough for the Arena, and enforce laws agreed upon by myself and my council."

Jak made a face. "That sounds like a lot of being stuck inside."

Dryly, Damas asked, "Why do you think I planted an entire grove of date palms in here? I would have died of boredom years ago if I did not."

He turned to fix both boys with a stern look.

"Out of respect for your fellow Spargans, try not to fidget during Arbitration Court unless you notice something suspicious. After five is a monthly meeting with the northern clifftop farmers to discuss rent payments."

"You rent farmland?"

"They rent from me," corrected Damas. "I didn't clear boulders until my hands bled just to abandon my land when I became king."

Jak blinked. "Fair enough. Man, we should've charged Sandover rent, Dax."

"Pal, they thought we owed them compensation for being allowed to sleep on their porches and eat a bare minimum of their food," Daxter pointed out sourly.

He caught a troubled frown on Damas’s face after the statement.

"Hm. I would like your attention to be on the visitors most during the rent meeting and the council meeting after evening meal. If anyone has a problem with me, specifically, that's likely where they'll turn up."

Jak eyed the snake again. "And if they blow their cover, I get to take 'em out, right?"

"No." Damas narrowed his eyes and pointed at Jak as he sat down again. "I need to determine how far the plot goes. No killing the assassin or accomplices."

"What about after?" Jak pressed.

"I'm the aggrieved party, I'm the one who deals with them," Damas said in mild reproof.

Jak folded his arms. "I dunno, we're feeling pretty aggrieved, right Daxter?"

"Positively outraged," Daxter added, sounding more bored than offended. "More Jak than me, but he's the sensitive type. You know him."

"Yes," Damas said, shaking his head with a small smile, "Yes I do. The answer is still "no", Jak."

Jak huffed and settled more comfortably against the throne. "You never let me do anything fun," he joked.

"I don't, I really don't." Damas reached over to prod the back of Jak's head affectionately.

"I'm a horrible, mean, adult who only lets you risk life and limb four days out of the week instead of every three hours."

"The folks in Haven would think that was the worst kind of tyranny, not being able to make us do all their work for them," Daxter scoffed.

The lift began to rattle, and Damas cleared his throat.

"Well, back to work. Eyes open, my boys. Let us see if we can't catch a would-be assassin. Jak, don't touch the fangs."

"I wasn't!" Jak protested.

Neither of his companions looked convinced.

#fic prompts #writing prompts #jak and daxter #dadmas #king damas #jak and daxter au #free day thursday #long post #welcome to adult supervision Jak #never had roasted cricket but as long as it didn't gave the head I'd try it #i guess i should give the viper oneshot a tag now that its not a oneshot anymore #its an au where Damas is subtly coaching Jak to be his successor so maybe that could have something to do with the name?#or maybe I'll just stick to Viper au #Jak has impulse problems but in his defense i would also be poking a dead viper with a stick #tw animal death #said animal went down in self defense i grant you but I'm actually rather fond of snakes so the warning stays #we'll just say this particular snake was a Known Problem to the wider Snake Community #it probably double parked in snake parking lots and tried to make all its old highschool peers join snake mlms #rip random fictional snake: you shall be hissed #viper au

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taizi · 1 year

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Feel free to ignore this ask if it's overstepping, but whenever I have to do something stressful involving my mental health I channel/process those feelings by writing fanfic of my blorbos doing the same thing. So, any thoughts about rise Leo going to his first therapy session post-movie in the Hidden City? Could even take place in the City Lights verse.

Mikey is kicking the heel of his foot against the waiting room chair over and over, full of a restless sort of worry.

It was an uphill battle getting Leo to agree to this in the first place. God, Mikey would almost rather fight the Shredder again then relive that first conversation about it. Being stubborn is a Hamato trait but Leo takes it to a whole new level.

Thankfully, he is and always has been a daddy’s boy.

“I have not always been a good father to you,” Splinter finally says, interrupting the beginning stages of Donatello Losing His Absolute Shit Out Of Love. He pats Leo’s cheek gently. “But I am putting my foot down this time, Blue.”

“You’re the medic,” Raph points out. “You wouldn’t let one of us walk around with a broken bone, would you?”

For all that he’s spent the last two years in a state of constant anxiety and frustration, he never lost that softness that makes him their Raph. He still carries it around with him, and hands it out freely where it’s needed, and right now he’s wrapping it around Leo as deftly as a blanket.

And for all that Leo has this stupid idea lately that he’s supposed to be perfect and self-reliant and never burden his family with anything he could handle on his own, he’s still their Leo. He buckles under genuine affection like a house of cards.

He puts up one last token protest. “That’s not the same thing.”

“It’s exactly the same thing,” Donnie says, just barely not a snap. “You have literally bullied me into telehealth sessions before.”

He’s not angry, not really. He just cares so much and he can’t get the words to come out right and he wants Leo to do what is best for Leo without arguing about it, even though they all know that’s just flat-out impossible.

“It’s different,” Leo stresses, well and truly at his emotional threshold. “You deserve—”

He cuts himself off but the damage is done. Everyone knows what he was going to say, what he meant. The tension in the room ratchets up to a solid fifteen on a max ten scale. Donnie starts flapping his hands. Casey looks pale and haunted. Mikey bites down on the wounded sound he wants to make, but Raph’s arms tighten around him like he heard it anyway.

“Yeah,” April says in a tone that lets all of her little brothers know not to mess around, “you’re going to therapy, Leon.”

Splinter grips Leo’s chin before he can sink into his shell. There’s an ocean of grief in the rat’s eyes that Mikey is worried he might drown in. But there’s love, too. Mountains of it, rising out of turbulent water, steady and immovable and forever.

“Don’t hide yourself away,” Splinter says. Maybe it’s something he would have liked someone to say to him, once upon a time. “We love who you are, even if who you are is someone who is struggling right now. Lean on us, Leonardo. You are not alone.”

So here they are. The latest in a string of failures. Mikey keeps bumping his foot into the chair leg, trying not to stare at the clock.

This is the longest an intake session has lasted. The first one was about ten minutes, but none of them expected the first one to go well. Leo joked about the whole thing and wouldn’t answer anyone’s questions directly. But he went straight to his room afterwards and didn’t come out until he was extracted for dinner, which said plenty.

The session after that went on for half an hour, but Splinter—and Draxum, who had come along that time and sat in with Leo’s permission—agreed it wasn’t the right fit. The session after that was another no-go, and then the disastrous fourth session almost shut the whole operation down entirely. It lasted all of twenty minutes and ended in property damage. Whatever was said in that office caused Splinter to go full Lou Jitsu and break the desk, a chair, and the door on their way out. Leo was glassy-eyed and unresponsive in a way that caused actual murder to flash through Donnie’s eyes.

Leo crawled directly into Raph’s open arms and stayed there, cheek pressed to plastron, to better hear the comforting rumble that started up in his brother’s chest. When Mikey crawled in next to him, his hands opened so Mikey could hold them, but otherwise he just blinked slowly and didn’t speak and it was the worst thing ever and Mikey very heroically managed not to burst into tears but it was close.

They were kind of expecting him to cite The Fourth Session as a reason why they should pack this whole idea up and mail it far away from them to the next bunch of jokers but he didn’t. He just heaved himself off the sofa without a whine or a joke or anything and shuffled after Splinter out the door.

It made Mikey feel like a bully. It was for Leo’s own good, but it was clearly taking a toll. Opening himself up again and again for a complete stranger, only to have that trust totally unrewarded and sometimes even thrown back in his face. For someone like Leo, whose guard is constant and unwavering even when the only people he has to guard against are his own family, it must be grueling. It must be awful.

But if they could just find the right fit, Mikey thinks desperately. If they could just find the right person…

“Hey,” Raph says, nudging Mikey’s arm, jolting him out of his thoughts. “He’ll be okay. Pops isn’t gonna let it get as far as it did the last time. He promised.”

“At worst, we’ll be accessories to murder,” Donnie says without looking up from his phone. He sounds like the idea doesn’t bother him at all, and also like it’s much preferable to anyone making his twin even the smallest bit upset for any reason. “In which case I suggest swinging back around to Session Four’s office and tying up loose ends.”

Raph closes his eyes briefly, looking as though he’s actively making plans to wrestle Donnie into therapy next, and then continues as if the softshell hadn’t spoken at all. “Leo’s perfectly safe.”

“No I know,” Mikey says quickly. In part because he knows Raph is trying to make him feel better, also in part because it sounds like maybe Raph is trying to make himself feel better, too. “I just—we’re running out of names in the Hidden City white pages, you know?”

“I can’t believe they still use the white pages here,” Donnie mutters.

“There’s still a lot of options left for us to try,” Raph says patiently. “And when we run out of options, we’ll come up with another plan. Don’t borrow trouble just yet, okay?”

Mikey leans on him, trying to absorb some of that steadfastness for himself, and Raph puts an arm around him, drawing him and his whole chair closer with a short shriek of plastic on linoleum.

A sudden high-pitched, frantic beeping fills the lobby. A few heads in the waiting room turn, but the yokai behind the desk don’t even blink.

“Is that the fire alarm?” Raph asks in a polite, I’m-not-freaking-out-but-I’m-about-to tone.

“Oh, honey, it’s okay,” one of the receptionists reassures him at once. She’s been nice to them since they got here and her teal face is lined from a long life of smiling. “This happens all the time. We have wards to prevent fire, but they don’t stop smoke.”

“Um, okay,” Mikey says. “But why is there smoke? In a clinic?”

The door leading to the offices opens and Leo steps out looking slightly scorched and a little bemused. Splinter is nudging him along, looking like he’s aged ten years in the last sixty minutes, and a beetle yokai shuffles after them sheepishly.

It’s the beetle yokai who introduced himself as Cricket, the clinical psychologist with licenses from both yokai and human institutions who passed Donatello’s extremely invasive vetting process, and the first doctor to somehow last the full hour with Mikey’s most stubborn brother. He’s five foot nothing and his exoskeleton is a pretty coral color.

“What did you set on fire this time?” one of the employees says in a long-suffering tone.

“You don’t know for certain that it was me,” Cricket replies with a nervous little yank at his wrinkled button-down shirt.

“Like the entire lounge,” Leo answers immediately after. “It’s amazing, I’ve never seen anyone fail at cookies that hard before in my life, and I live with Donatello.”

“Offended scoff,” Donnie says loudly.

“It’s a nice gesture!” Cricket says. “I was making a nice gesture!”

“Whoever left their lunch on the counter in there, I have bad news,” Leo goes on. One of the yokai tapping away at a computer stops, puts her head in her hand, and sighs. Splinter draws Leo down far enough to pat him on the cheek and then heads toward the reception area to do paperwork things. Leo and Cricket bicker their way across the waiting room.

Mikey feels something buoyant and bubbly happening in his chest, like someone shook a can of soda up in there. This is the most Leo-like Leo has been after a session, in all his playful, sarcastic glory. He glances up and sees the way Mikey is vibrating in his chair and laughs.

“Jeez, Michael, if you needed to go outside and run around the block I would have understood.”

“I’m saving all my energy for giving you the biggest, proudest, love-you-est hug of my entire career,” Mikey says very seriously.

Leo’s golden eyes get very bright, which is how Mikey can tell that his heart is smiling even if his face folds into something theatrical and performative. “Am I gonna need to clear my calendar?”

“The WHOLE day, baby!”

Cricket is smiling at the picture the four of them make, mandibles clicking idly. Splinter is watching too, his eyes impossibly soft and full of the same pride Mikey’s feeling in spades.

“What do you say, Leo?” Cricket says. “Same time next week?”

Leo tugs at the sleeve of the purple hoodie he borrowed from Donnie that morning. He glances sidelong at Splinter, who gazes back fondly but doesn’t answer for him. Mikey’s on pins and needles, waiting to hear what he’ll say with his heart in his throat. He thinks he can feel Raph holding his breath.

“Yeah, I guess,” Leo says after a moment. “Maybe we can burn your office down next time.”

Cricket lets out an affronted little clicking noise but he clearly doesn’t mean it, because he sends the clan off with warm goodbyes. The second they’re out the door, Mikey flings himself at Leo bodily, barely remembering at the last second to be gentle. Donnie has his arm linked through Leo’s good one, and Splinter is hanging back to make a quiet, exhaustively relieved phone call to April and Casey, and Mikey keeps saying how proud he is. He can’t stop. Leo’s the bravest person he knows, the best person, and he has to keep saying it or he’s going to explode.

“Alright, alright,” Raph says, gently disentangling Leo from the bramble of clingy brothers and lifting him up onto his shoulders instead. “Take us home, Fearless.”

There’s a smile on Leo’s face that’s almost familiar. It’s not the one Mikey knows, but it’s one he’s getting to know. The fact that his brother is here to smile at all is more of a miracle than most people get in a whole lifetime.

Even if Leo never makes it all the way back to that shining boy he used to be, Mikey can think of at least a billion things to love about the person he is right now.

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #hamato michelangelo #hamato leonardo #portal duo #my writing #tmnt fic #prompt #anonymous #these bright blue city lights #i have had cricket for exactly 1 hour and i would die for him in a heartbeat

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softichill · 7 months

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Objectober day 8 - Autumn

Tree always looks a little different this time of year!

Bonus:

Leafy helped him take the picture :]

#cricket doodles #objectober #objectober 2023 #osc #bfdi #bfb #tpot #battle for dream island #battle for bfdi #the power of two #bfdi tree #bfb tree #tpot tree #bfdi leafy #I have never drawn Tree before this prompt #But I had a feeling everyone would be doing orange Leafy so I wanted to do something else

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hoshigray · 7 months

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i have been thinking of doing a beauty and the beast sukuna au for like 3 accounts now and the fact i have yet to do it is so funny; like he’s cursed to stay in his true form and he hates his true form and must find someone to love him in his true form to break the curse (i have also thought about genie reader x sukuna too 😣😣)

HELP THE WAY I FUCKS WITH THIS PROMPT SINCE THE JJK X DISNEY ARC BC IT MADE MORE SENSE THAN SUKUNA X CINDERELLA 💀💀💀 (also damn three accounts and not a post in sight, girl you need to fucking stop lmfao) but omg Mona you're so fucking right like word for word. Like I can imagine you both catch feelings but never say anything. But then when he's about to die, he ALMOST says it to you before unfortunately passing on. Then, heartbroken, you said "No, please!! I'm so sorry...I love you, I always loved you....please forgive me for not saying so earlier. You may have saw yourself as a beast, but I saw you as the man that stole my heart. I'm so so sorry, Sukuna....Your form means nothing to me. I just want you....." and then poof he's alive again but imagine he comes back as his true form bc you loved him as his true form!! And then he MARRIES YOU IN HIS TRUE FORM, IN THE FORM HE HATES BUT YOU LOVE SO DEEPLY— MONA PLEASE WRITE THIS D O W N ASDFEHWUAHQIKAOAQ and woooah, never thought of genie reader x kuna. Lol I can imagine them not getting along and you begrudgingly doing his first wish, but you two start to like each other and then he wishes you as his wife uwu

alsooo since we're on the topic if writing, guess who gave in and started writing for hitman! Toji x haindmaiden! You last night 🧍🏾‍♀️💦 MAN I HAD TROUBLE IF I WANTED HIM AS A HITMAN OR A SERIAL KILLER, BUT I'M ALREADY DOING SERIAL KILLER TOJI WITH SUKUNA SOOOOOO. But I think I'm gonna follow with how we talked about it; him breaking into your apartment when he hears about you and then finding out you're about to be engaged. But like....WHO PUT A RING ON YOU THOUGH??¿¿??¿¿¿¿ I deadass had to stop writing and think about it bc I made you and geto coupled up; however, that'd make you like 10+ years older than him 😅😅😅 I think I'll just roll with it but sheeesh lol hmmm I could do Naoya but idk he pisses me off LMFAO

#mona please I'm about to beg #PLEASE write one of your prompts down bc they're so good #how tf are you gonna convince me to write not one but TWO prompts we've discussed and all i hear is crickets on your end WHAT 😭😭#let's get to it!!! b&tb sukuna x you !!! chop chop !!!!#𝑯𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊 ⚛ 𝑨𝒕𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒄 𝑨𝒔𝒌𝒔 #𝑴𝒐𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒆 *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ramona #also I'm still spunned over that “who rebirthed you” comment you made two nights ago #i will NEVER get over that bc that is PEAK WRITING like damn go off English major 💀💀💀

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the-prince-of-professors · 2 months

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“Well, Bunny,” he said, and reached out his hand with a melancholy smile. “I suppose this is it. Thank you very much for your help—today, and on all the rest. I could not have wished for a better partner, you know,” he added, and winked. Bunny took his hand, but hesitated. “I’d like to stay until the train leaves, if you don’t mind,” he said.

Raffles/Bunny // School days era // 1 881 words

#rafflesweek2024 #crime and cricket #raffles and bunny #my writing #i've tried to finish and post this every day since sunday....... still don't feel completely satisfied but enough is enough #this is not for a particular prompt (though i guess it fits into one or two)#just one of two wips that have been lying around since forever and that i really wanted to finish at last #(i wanna write the other one too for rafflesweek buuuuuut we'll see what happens)

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stoookes · 10 months

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Alright, Cricfam, I need you’re help. Got a fic idea brewing and I wonder who off the England squad you think would:

- Get stuck on the ferris wheel (x2 players)

- go too hard on the wackamole

- win the biggest stuffed toy (and who would they give it too)

- wants to keep going on the rollercoaster (and who is about to vomit if they go on again)

- ate WAY too much sugar and is now on a high

- doesn’t want to go to a festival (maybe), and who drags them along anyway

- is absolutely terrified of the clowns

- gets way too competitive and who just can’t stand to see them win again

Any ideas welcome!

#cricfam #england cricket #prompt #cricketfandom #cricketslash #cricket

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billchip-prompts · 11 months

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BillChip Prompt #40

Bill: Inspiration is very important. What are you all able to inspire in other people?

Tilly: Motivation!

Cricket: Anger!

Alice: Fear!

Chip: Arousal.

Gloria: Pity.

Bill: This didn't go how I imagined it.

#billchip prompts #prompt #writing prompt #bill green #tilly green #cricket green #alice green #chip whistler #gloria sato #big city greens #bcg #disney

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angelswing236 · 7 months

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"I never said it would be easy."

Fictober 2023

Category: Fanfiction

Fandom: Downton Abbey

‘God, I hate cricket,’ Tom groaned as another ball flew past him, striking the net, not making even the tiniest bit of contact with his bat. ‘I thought you were supposed to teach me how to play.’

‘I am teaching you,’ Matthew protested, picking up another ball.

‘Well, you’re a rubbish teacher,’ Tom called as he walked back to viciously kick at the red ball that had become his nemesis.

‘I never said it would be easy,’ Matthew replied, backing up for another bowling run. ‘You’ll love it once you get the hang of it.’

‘I won’t because it’s the stupidest game known to mankind.’

‘It’s the greatest game known to mankind. The sound of leather on willow is quintessentially English.’

‘I’m Irish,’ Tom pointed out. ‘Maybe that’s why this game hates me.’

‘It doesn’t hate you. Just be patient.’

‘We’ve only got until tomorrow for me to learn all these ridiculous rules.’

‘Maybe we should just stick you on the boundary. All you’d have to do them is catch a ball.’

‘Great. Let’s do that,’ Tom said, brightening up.

‘One more try,’ Matthew said, letting fly with the ball.

*Thwack*

It was hard to know who was more surprised.

#fictober23 #downton abbey #tom branson #matthew crawley #fanfiction #writing challenge #writing prompt #cricket

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cricketnationrise · 3 months

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Congrats on 500 followers! Going Platinum is one of my absolute fave RWRB fics 😘

For Ficlit Fest:

Time: 14:28

Location: the music room at Kensington Palace

Character: June Claremont-Diaz

Song/lyric vibe: I'd scream at the wind but no one would listen (U Deserve - Wasia Project)

My username is the same on Ao3 as here 😊

thank you so much!! the ficlet fest continues to introduce me to absolutely AWESOME music, so thank you for your prompt I am obsessed. enjoy your ficlet feat. angry big sister energy 💜🦗

read all the ficlets from this fest on AO3 here

❤️🤍💙❤️🤍💙

2:28pm, kensington music room

Most of the time, June can put the fact that Henry is an actual honest-to-god prince, fourth in line for the throne, and all-around big deal out of her mind and think of him as her friend, a fellow Austen-enthusiast, and her little brother’s boyfriend. Most of the time, June can set aside the fact that his sister is a literal princess and their brother is going to be king one day. Most of the time, June can look past the notion that Henry’s mom is going to become queen in her lifetime.

Sitting in goddamn Kensington Palace, in one of the best-appointed music rooms June’s ever seen, is not one of those times.

Aside from Bea and Henry’s bedrooms, it’s the most casual room she’s seen so far. It’s suffused with a sense of family and laughter, unlike the more public spaces of the palace that seem to sag under stonework and tradition and a persistent phantom dampness. Even the guest suite she was shown to earlier feels coldly formal. But the lingering sense of chill falls away here.

There’s half-drunk cups of tea on the side tables, notebooks scattered on the grand piano, Bea’s leather jacket slung over a squashy-looking armchair that wouldn’t look out of place in a thrift store in Austin. All of the instruments, while of obvious quality, look like they’ve been played often, and well-loved. While the collection of electric guitars is gorgeous, June’s attention is drawn toward the older acoustic guitar propped up in the far corner, half-hidden behind a fern.

She pulls it out and sits with it, strumming idly, echoes of lake water lapping at the dock in her ears. Her fingers pluck out simple chords, adjusting to the new instrument before the music swirling around her head takes over her hands. She’s flying through John Denver and Selena and Dolly Parton and Fleetwood Mac and Patsy Cline, lost in memories of easy summers at her dad’s lake house. But then June’s thinking about last time at the house, and Henry, and how devastated Alex was to wake up with him gone. How he’d been a shadow of himself for a week before taking off across the Atlantic to scream some sense into him. And then the leak, and the election, and suddenly there’s furious tears streaming down her face and she keeps harshly playing the same bit of Johnny Cash over and over, like a skipping record, the lyrics in her head drowning all other thoughts:

And I went down down down

“June?”

And the flames went higher

“June?”

And I went down down down

“June!”

And the flames went—

Bea pulls the guitar out of June’s hands and it’s all June can do to not curl up in a ball or let loose a scream—anything to mitigate the swirling anger that she’s been shoving down for weeks. Her hands ball into fists as she half-sobs, trying to get a hold of herself but then, Bea’s hands are covering hers and June lifts her blurry gaze to Bea’s face.

“Just let it out, love, you look like you need it.”

And June tips forward and buries a scream in Bea’s shoulder, lets Bea pull her closer and cage her in as the scream turns to sobs. It takes a long time for June to calm down again, fighting for each gasping breath while Bea rubs her back and murmurs soothing nonsense. Eventually she calms down enough to sit up properly again and wipes her face with the cuff of her sweater.

“S-sorry about that, Bea. I just—”

“If you think you’re the only person who’s had a breakdown in this room, you’re sorely mistaken,” Bea says. “Christ knows I’ve had more than my own fair share. But my sponsor says they’re good for me so…”

June sits with that a moment then—

“I’m just still so angry.”

“About the leak?”

June nods. “About all of the shit they dealt with. That they’re still dealing with. And like, officially, everything’s fine now, right? My mom won and Richards is going to be punished and Alex and Henry are happy but—”

“They shouldn’t have had to deal with that in the first place,” Bea finishes grimly. “And because everything’s “fine” now, we have to be fine, too.”

“Yeah. Like I just feel like screaming at the injustice of it all, but no one would listen. ‘They got their happy ending, so can’t we just move on?’” June mocks. “I saw some rando post that on Twitter this morning and couldn’t get it out of my head.”

“Maddening, isn’t it?”

“Understatement of the century.”

“Next time, text me. Odds are I’m feeling the same way.”

June does grin at that. Bea’s probably the only other person who gets what it’s like being the older sister to such a potent force for good in the world. Who gets wanting to fight anyone and anything that threatens her brother’s happiness.

“I will.”

#cricket writes #tailsbeth #ficlet fest 500 #rwrb #angry big sisters vs the world #the line you prompted really grabbed me by the throat

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radioactivepeasant · 8 months

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Fic Prompts: Snippet Monday

A short scene that doesn't have a story to go with, and is therefore free to incorporate into just about whatever.

Viper

"-look, all I'm saying is we need a break!"

Damas paused to listen to the voices floating up from the elevator shaft. Ah. He'd been beginning to wonder when, exactly, the boys had been planning to turn in their report on the sandstorm evacuation. He stifled a smile and went back to watering the date palms nearest the window as he listened to them arguing.

"A break? Dax, just being here is a break!"

"...you've been out in the sun too long, pal. You seem to have forgotten the life-threatening nonsense these people keep putting us through!"

Jak's laugh grew louder as the elevator rose higher. "So? We have entire days where we don't have to go anywhere or do anything! And we get to go wherever we want! C'mon, Dax, you can't possibly tell me this place isn't like a vacation compared to Haven."

The elevator locked into place and Jak ambled out, looking perfectly at home amid the artificial streams. He lifted a hand in irreverent greeting when he spotted Damas, and made his way across the stepping stones. And if he seemed to be making a game of skipping every other stone, well, Damas wouldn't tell anyone.

"All scouts accounted for!" Jak announced cheerfully as he landed on the last stone, right at the foot of the dais. "Oh hey, the Crawler's making some weird noises though. I think you should have Kleiver do some maintenance on it."

Damas raised a brow. "Hm. A mobile sandstorm shelter won't do us much good if it breaks down. I'll make a note of it."

He set down the pitcher he had been using to water the tree and made his way back to his throne, looking for one of the data recording devices he kept to hand.

"I don't have any other work for you at the moment. If you can find a way to amuse yourselves that doesn't involve violent destruction of private property, the rest of the afternoon is yours to spend as you wish."

Daxter snapped his fingers in a pretense of disappointment. "Darn, well, that rules out all your plans, doesn't it, Jak?"

"Swimming doesn't destroy private property," Jak suggested, bouncing his shoulder.

"Not during a storm," Damas cut in. "I don't want to hear that someone had to take a boat out there and haul you out of a rip current."

Jak was about to argue when he felt Daxter go rigid on his shoulder. Following Damas’s surprised gaze, he found his friend squinting around the room. His ears swiveled and rotated like satellites, as if trying to catch a specific sound.

"Dax? What's wrong?"

"Say, uh, Jak?" Daxter piped up nervously, "Anyone else hear hissing?"

Hissing? Jak frowned and scanned the room, wondering what his friend was hearing. As his eyes swept across the dais, something caught his attention. It wasn’t that noticeable, just the barest hint of motion. But when Jak reached for just a hint of dark eco, suffusing his sclera in darkness, it stood out as clear as lightning.

Instinct took over and Jak had a knife out of his boot before he could even process what he was seeing. In an instant he'd hurled the dagger at the throne, just missing Damas’s calf.

"Jak!" Damas snapped, "Watch it!"

With a pained squeal, something began to thrash beside his foot. Pinned to the leg of the throne by Jak's knife was a massive snake. A Dust Demon viper, slowly losing its camouflage as death throes sent it thrashing in pain.

Damas examined the creature impassively, then slammed down his boot, putting it out of its misery.

"I thought something felt different," he remarked, entirely too calmly. "Next time, aim for the head for a cleaner kill. There's no need to make it suffer."

Daxter’s fur stood on end like static electricity as he clung to Jak’s shoulder in an arch.

"How long was that there?!" he demanded, "Is this a regular problem for you?!"

Damas prodded the still twitching viper with the butt of his staff. "Hardly."

His eyes narrowed in thought, and lowered himself into a crouch to examine the animal. "This little one did not get here on its own power."

Jak was already thinking on the same track.

"Someone brought it here," he realized, and his face twisted into an angry, inhuman snarl.

He jumped up onto the dais to crouch beside Damas and glared at the offending creature.

"So...so what? This was an assassination attempt?"

"Hm. That is very likely," Damas agreed. He didn't seem particularly bothered.

Glancing up, he directed a smile at Jak and Daxter. "Very well done. I commend the both of you. This will not be forgotten."

Daxter perked up, glowing at the praise like he'd had a spotlight shone on him.

Jak missed the praise entirely. He was fully focused on the words assassination attempt. Who would try to kill Damas? And in such an underhanded way? If someone had a problem with the king, there was a perfectly good Arena to settle the dispute in!

Well. To be fair, Jak supposed that would be a fight the dissenter wouldn't walk away from. He wasn't even sure he could beat Damas in a fight. So what did that make this? Cowardice?

Jak hated it. It reminded him of the backstabbing he used to see among the prison guards under Praxis's reign.

Jak glowered at the dead snake, and jerked his knife out of it. He just missed Damas’s approving nod when he bent to clean the blade on his boot before sheathing it again. The snake lay sprawled in unnatural angles, no longer twitching. With dark eco rumbling in his chest like a warning growl, Jak reached down and picked the viper up by the tail.

"I'm gonna find out who did this," he vowed, looking Damas in the eye, "And they're gonna pay."

He started to stand, but a hand on his arm anchored him in place.

"Leave it," Damas commanded. He stood and jerked his chin towards the foot of the throne. "Let everyone who enters this chamber see it there."

"Why?" Jak furrowed his brow and stood to follow, viper dangling from his hand. "Won't that just show the assassin they should try something else?"

Damas settled into his throne with a scoff. "No no, think, Jak. What did I teach you about choosing battles?"

Jak blinked. Was this a test of some kind? He looked to Daxter, who only shrugged. Damas had that secretive glint in his eye, which meant it probably was a test. Jak closed his eyes and tried to think.

He's not facing this head-on, or at least not the way I would. Which means he's probably taking a more subtle approach. Jak, admittedly, was not very good at "subtle". He wracked his brains for an answer, looking between the snake, the throne, and the doors before realizing that Damas was watching his facial expressions intently.

Oh.

"You're...going to watch everyone's reactions? When people come in, right? If...if the assassin or an accomplice comes in, seeing the snake will send a message. Or...or it might spook them into giving something away?"

The answer lacked his usual brash confidence. Jak hoped the king wouldn't pick up on that, but at the same time he knew it was unlikely that he wouldn't. But he couldn't help a little trepidation! Damas clearly expected him to know the answer and he didn't want to get it wrong!

To his relief, Damas dipped his head and smiled proudly.

"Excellent! That is precisely what I intend to do -- so I can't have you running around the city to threaten people with a dead snake."

He gestured to his right meaningfully.

"And as you have no other tasks for the afternoon, I think this would be a good opportunity for you to hone your observation skills. After how quickly you two picked up on the viper's presence, I can think of no better choice to help me suss out our would-be killer."

This time Daxter wasn't the only one to light up and stand a little straighter in response to the commendation. Jak may not have been familiar with ranks and hierarchies, but he understood the gesture of trust Damas was extending to them. And he understood that being asked to stand by at the right hand of a warrior like Damas was no small thing. Damas was asking them to help him find an assassin in the ranks as though he hadn't the slightest doubt that they would be successful.

Jak squared his shoulders and nodded sharply. "We won't let you down," he said firmly.

Damas returned his nod with an almost fond smile. "I know."

Jak leaned on the pillar right of the throne and considered the viper thoughtfully before tossing it to land closer to Damas’s feet. Then, after perhaps a minute of silence, he asked,

"Can I have the fangs though?"

Damas let out a startled laugh. "The fangs?!"

"Yeah," Jak shrugged, suddenly sheepish. "It's- I have a- there's a thing. I need them."

Daxter translated with narrowed eyes. "He means his horrible, horrible, bone collection that he's been making jewelry out of."

Leaning back, Damas laughed again. "Then by all means." He smiled indulgently, gesturing, "Take the fangs! Just be careful of the venom."

"I will." Jak waved off the warning just a touch too nonchalantly. "How long do you think before people start showing up?"

Damas checked his data device. "Four meetings this afternoon, two more after evening meal. The next one is in approximately twenty minutes."

Daxter hopped down and settled into a more comfortable position on the dais steps. "Welp. Sounds like we're gonna be here a while. Jak, you brought snacks, right?"

"We could eat the snake if you're hungry enough," Jak teased.

Daxter made a disgusted sound and looked to Damas, pointing an accusing finger at Jak.

"Will you please do something about him?!"

"Don't eat the evidence, Jak," Damas snorted. "Go get some roasted crickets out of the kitchens if you're hungry. You have a few minutes."

"CRICKETS?!" Daxter shrieked. He clasped his paws to his head in horror. "You're an enabler! Jak! Don't listen to the man!"

Jak pushed off of the pillar and rolled his eyes at Daxter. "If you'll eat a decapod, you can eat a hexapod. Besides, they're good! Damas, you want me to bring you some?"

"Naturally."

Daxter groaned and pulled his ears down over his eyes. "Great. Lunatic and Lunatic Junior are sharing meal plans now. Goodbye, normal diet!"

Jak looked just a little too smug about being labeled "Lunatic Junior".

#fic prompts #writing prompts #snippet monday #Jak and Daxter #dadmas #king damas #tw animal death #I've never eated a roasted cricket before but I'd definitely try it #Damas is trying to train Jak to take on the kind of role Sig holds when he's home #Jak has no idea that he's started an internship

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