#children's duty

[wombywoo]

fresh blood 👶

[shadow4-1]

I'm just imagining Price getting home after a rough mission.

He's bruised, beat up, and exhausted to the point where he passes out on the couch fully dressed. You don't want to wake him. So, you dutifully drop to your knees and begin to undo the laces of his boots. Price wakes up enough to see his gorgeous wife tugging off his shoes. They're beat to hell things, stripped leather with caked on mud and yet you don't grimace. He watches silently as you remove the other boot, placing them together at your side.

You look up at him, slightly surprised to find he's awake.

He leans forward just enough to cup at your cheek, runs his thumb over your bottom lip. You don't miss how his face pinches in that way when he's remembering something awful.

"God. I don't deserve you."

[milkcioccolato]

Big Brother Maul had no chance to escape, poor boy! Little Soka’s attack was way too powerful and efficient💪🏻😌

[emacrow]

Babysitting duty calls, Klarion

It another world threatening battle for the justice league, young justice against the league of Villains and chaos children before most of the chaos children froze as if they sense something bad was approaching and immediately dipped out.. except klarion whom was fighting with raven who immediately froze up too late in front of the portal.

Only for a green portal to appear, as a worned out floating glowing green, but blue skinned teenage boy who turn into a man with red eyes, a clock staff in hand and a glowing white hair baby in a baby carrier.

Klarion is literally struggling like a feral cat who got wet in cold water against some invisible force speaking in some odd static like language before giving up after half a minute when the man spoke back with a short word.

The man now just shape-shifting into turn elderly just gave klarion the baby carrier before noticing how the heroes and villains have stop in mid battles looking at both klarion and him.

"All in soon time, but be warn Flashes whom break the laws of times will get their due if you keep messing with the past and future." Spoken the elderly now shape-shifted into a young boy before he turn back to klarion leaving him a note and glowing baby bag before floating back into the swirling green portal.

Klarion could only look at note with his eye twitching, Teekl meowing as she climb into the baby carrier purring around the glowing baby.

"Why do I keep getting babysitting duty, it so unfa-..." klarion grumbled as he pick up the baby carrier and bag teleporting away..

....

....

....

"What just happened?" Said Dick whom only one question would be put on hold til later in the watchtower of what just happen before the fight resuming with the young and original justice league winning since the league of Villains were distracted.

[itspileofgoodthings]

one of the things that continues to strike me on reread is how much the character of Darcy, and Austen through him, finds Mr. Bennet dead. And how much Elizabeth, in growing and changing and discarding her past blindness, has to move past her way of seeing her father and thus of seeing reality, because the two are connected! Darcy’s letter exposes her father’s flaws to Elizabeth in a way she’d never been able to see before. Most especially the way his laziness and neglect of his own gifts have hurt his family and that ultimately he doesn’t. care. Not enough to change. It literally says that she comes home from Hunsford and tries to laugh at her sisters’ and mother’s folly (the way she used to; the way her father has taught her to by example for her whole life) and she can’t anymore! It sticks in her throat. She is grieved by the failures that she sees in him, all the more so because she IS his favorite and she loves him! And the thing about Mr. Bennet is he never changes. The Lydia/wickham situation exposes to him sharply his own conduct and the consequences and he feels it! Because he is neither stupid nor unfeeling. But he, like everyone, has free will. And he chooses not to change when the opportunity presents itself. He even jokes about how quickly his feeling bad will pass and how soon everything will go back to normal, to his laziness and his selfishness. He is set in his ways and he serves as a contrast to Elizabeth’s personal journey because he embodies a version of a person she could have become and was in danger of becoming if her only goal at all times was to laugh at and judge people from the sidelines.

[bisexualhobgadling]

Dream of the Endless would be a great professor, but you know what else he'd be amazing at?

Children's Librarian

Kids are full of stories. He would absolutely love to hear them and help nurture that creativity. The really young ones could be read to and have nap time. Parents would love him. Kids would love him. Hob would love him.

also it would just be really cute 😌

[lunarw0rks]

"simon is emotionless" "ghost is cold" this that—

MF HE WAS CALLING HOSTAGES SWEETHEART IN THE COMICS

[daordinarylinchen]

my bell and his husband🍻

[ka-wa-bunga]

Watched Labyrinth

Only had a FEW ideas, just a few

YEP

Definitely just a few.

(Sorry it's been fifty years since the last time I posted, got a new job and ha ent had much free time)

[deunmiu-dessie-sideblog]

tf141 jokingly blames price's wife for the extra pudge added to their bellies. but the thing is, you love to feed them. 'cause when they're deployed they can go days without eating, or not eating enough. so whenever they come to visit, you literally stuff them, complaining that they're "gaunt" and that they've "lost so much weight". truly it's just you being worried about them in your own way. but hell, they love it and will eat anything you give them ( especially if you say it's made with love 💀 )

[immediatebreakfast]

I found that my landlord had got a letter from the Count, directing him to secure the best place on the coach for me; but on making inquiries as to details he seemed somewhat reticent, and pretended that he could not understand my German.

The reaction, and following actions of the old romanian couple after learning that the Count placed the responsability of securing Jonathan's travel to the castle on them is a true testament on the horror limbo that these people have been living for god knows how long.

An inmortal, and monstruos man lives inside the countryside in luxury untouched by time itself orders you to secure transportation for this young man, barely an adult in what matters who has traveled so far, to meet what you know will be his death. A being that should be a myth is forcing your hand to guide the son of another mother to an early grave, an end that is waiting for him outside of the walls of your inn.

He and his wife, the old lady who had received me, looked at each other in a frightened sort of way... When I asked him if he knew Count Dracula, and could tell me anything of his castle, both he and his wife crossed themselves, and, saying that they knew nothing at all, simply refused to speak further. 

How many times has this happened? How many young people have dissapeared one day without leaving a single trace while everyone has to force ignorance within their brains less the terror makes them unable to keep going. Worse, even if the young english man, all bright eyed and full of life, says That Name out loud you can't chastice him for such mistake because he simply doesn't know what he is calling, and the only thing that you can do is close your eyes to pray for his soul.

However, sometimes the horror is so overwhelming that another answer comes out, a last ray of hope that could change the course of what seems to be written in stone. A simple hand extending in frightened kindness for a fellow human being.

"Must you go? Oh! young Herr, must you go?"

This old woman, this old lady who has and still lives under the terror of the Count decides to try. She tries, and tries to convince Jonathan to not go, to not leave to walk to the jaws of the beast, or to at least wait for a day or two because everything is pointing to what seems to be the inevitable. Moreover, when her pleads are futile at the end, she still dares to gift Jonathan a rosary, a small protection against that cursed being who laughs at the face of everything that makes her human.

She saw, I suppose, the doubt in my face, for she put the rosary round my neck, and said, "For your mother's sake," and went out of the room.

This old lady not only sees Jonathan the young man who is just starting his life, she sees a mother waiting for any news of her son coming home. She sees a poor woman trying to find anything that could tell her an answer of whenever her son is alive or dead, while being unable to both live and grieve.

The old lady doesn't know if Jonathan will survive his duty. In fact I could pressume how her guilt of knowing that the rosary on itself is still not enough to ward off the Count made her leave the room, but she still tried to hold on the hope that this time, maybe this time, there won't be another young soul buried in the soil.

[wombywoo]

smoke break

[pilkypills]

flute lesson

[ohbo-ohno]

I love your work!! Congrats on 1k followers- your fics are amazing💙💙 May I request ‘country house’ and ‘something isn’t right about (setting). Something is off.’ ? Maybe with Price x reader please? (-:

1k game here - no more please!

i have an unreasonably difficult time thinking of a "something's off" for these prompts. but we write on nonetheless!

1.1k of price being your young daughter's "imaginary" friend. fair warning, this one doesn't have an actual price appearance, it's mostly just vibes. (cw for implied stalking/haunting, no smut!)

The big country house is your dream home.

It had come when you most needed it - your sister had finally gotten tired of letting you and your five year old couch surf and kicked you out with no warning, leaving you with only your car to live in and no prospects.

You'd been driving through a tiny town, only even heard about the house because of a kind waitress who took pity on you when you told her about your situation. She introduced you to her younger sister, a local realtor who'd recently marked down a nice family home to practically nothing because she couldn't get it to sell.

It had seemed too good to be true, honestly. The house is a grand thing - two stories, a wraparound porch, relatively new appliances. The price you paid - you negotiated down - was practically pennies.

But you don't have the privilege of questioning your blessings with a little one relying on you. So you tell yourself that this is just good karma, and you get yourself moved into the home as quickly as possible.

It's weeks later, from that same waitress, that you learn why the house was so cheap. Apparently a local man had been murdered there only a few months ago - a robbery gone wrong, if your source is to be believed, and an apparently very violent death for the poor man living there alone.

It certainly changes the way you feel in the house, knowing that something so horrible happened less than a year ago. The house still feels the same, but you look at it with the knowledge of who might've been there before.

You're... well, you're very lonely these days. You work long hours at home, holed up in your home office, responding to emails and sitting on calls all day. You only really leave to drop off your daughter and to pick her up, or if she wants to go somewhere in the city. If it were up to you, you'd never leave your new property.

And the house isn't small - you've never lived in a multiple story house, let alone one with no one else there. You can never fully shake the paranoia that someone else could be in the house with you, and you'd never know.

You remind yourself that you need to get a dog as soon as you can afford one, and try to wipe the nervousness from your mind.

When summer hits, you and your daughter spend most of your days at home. The house came with quite a bit of land, more than enough for a little five year old to amuse herself with on a nice summer day. You find that you enjoy sitting on the back porch with a cool drink and a book, keeping one eye on the story and another on your daughter while she plays with her dolls.

She doesn't have many friends. You'd worry, but she's always been a happy girl, and she doesn't seem to have any sort of social issues. You don't have the money to get her to a doctor, so you comfort yourself with the idea that she's just a shy child.

So you spend your summer, just the two of you. You spend an almost regrettable amount of time in your office with the door open so you can hear if something goes wrong, but you watch the small nest-egg grow in your bank account, and you tell yourself you'll make it up to your little girl by spoiling her later.

You only start to grow truly concerned about midway through the summer, when your daughter comes to you and tells you about an imaginary friend.

"John says we should play outside today," she says over breakfast one morning, casual as can be between mouthfuls of pancake.

"What's that, honey?" You ask, only half paying attention as you mix another batch.

"John wants to go outside. He's says it's a nice day. He doesn't like that you stay inside so much."

That makes you pause, turning to look over at your daughter. She's never known a John in her life. You have no idea where this is coming from.

"Who's John, sweetheart?"

"My friend," she replies, swinging her legs above the floor, happy as can be. "He was here first. We play together when you're workin'."

You blink at her a little dumbly. You know, logically, that John must be an imaginary friend - someone her little five year old mind has conjured in all her hours alone in the big house. But still, your simmering paranoia about there being someone else in the house spikes.

"Have I ever met John, honey?"

"Nuh-uh," she giggles a little, looking at you with an expression that says silly mommy. "John's not really there, mommy. That's why I gotta take everything outside."

You nod a little, your worry assuaged. It's just an imaginary friend - a perfectly normal kid thing.

"Well," you hum, turning to the skillet to start on your own pancakes. "I wouldn't mind working on the porch today, baby. You and John can play outside all you want."

It should be just that. It is just that.

Except... the idea of an imaginary friend eats at you.

As the pieces start connecting you tell yourself that you've spent too much time alone in this big old house. You tell yourself you need to get out, to find communities for both you and your baby to get involved with.

But the dots still connect.

You think of all the times you've heard your daughter start crying in the middle of the night, only for her to be giggling by the time you get to her room. You think of the night you were sure you left the stove on (you'd planned to make brownies, but gotten distracted while the oven preheated) only to find it completely turned off when you rushed downstars.

You think of the full conversations your sweet baby girl tells about John. She tells you he's tall, with a big beard, and a funny hat. She says he's got a nice voice and soft hands. She says he tells her bedtime stories, and that he has a funny accent.

You sit on the porch one night, and the back door opens behind you. Instead of the sound of small feet pattering towards you, there's silence. The door closes another moment later.

Your daughter tells you that John thinks you should spend more time with them - not her, with them.

The bed is made one day when you're sure you hadn't bothered in the morning. You'd been overwhelmed with work, had been too stressed to bother tucking in your comforter. When you go to bed that night, it's perfectly made with almost military precision.

You watch from the porch as your daughter giggles with her doll, dancing the little toy through the air and talking to nothing. You blow a cool breath over your mug, and tell yourself there's nothing there.

That night, there's a spot of warmth in your bed when you lay down to sleep.

[jupitersmoon167]

This is such a self indulgent idea, but humor me:

CoD x PJO crossover where John Price had a kid with one of the Greek goddesses during his early military days, and as hard as he tried to raise his kid, they were always put second over his job.

While he’s out on deployment, he gets a call. He learns that his home was seemingly broken into and his kid is missing. He uses all his resources and connections to try and find his kid, thinking that it was enemies of his that kidnapped his kid as a way to get back at him. But after months of searching, he comes up with nothing. No calls, no leads, nothing. After a year of searching, he gives up hope and mourns the loss of his kid, wishing he had been a better father to them.

It isn’t until a few years later when he’s Captain of TF141 that he finds out his kid is alive and learns why they left all those years ago and the truth of the other half of their parentage and that he and his child might be more alike in ways John wished weren’t true.

Edit: More thoughts on this here

Please come to my ask box with questions or ideas about this I need to rant about this idea with someone anyone please I beg

[darkestspring]

Could you do another fic about how yandere the twins are for their mom?

It was an accident really, Aegon hadn't meant to say that in front of the twins.

Aegon sighed as he watched one of the guards assigned to you keep the same conversation that had been started twenty minutes ago. "Should i just have him poisoned? or maybe have false evidence planted on him and execute him for treason?" Aegon lamented as he leaned his cheek against his hand.

"Papa?" Jaehaera spoke up, having heard all of that.

"Shit, I forgot I'm babysitting." He cursed lowly before turning to his young daughter, his son not far behind. "Don't tell your mother I said that."

"He's just talking with Mama, why does he deserve to die?" Jaehaerys looked up at him.

Well, they were at the age where they could hear it so Aegon should tell them at least, they were targaryens, it was bound to happen anyways. Aegon picked up both of the twin and sat them on his lap softly. "Well, sometimes when you fall in love, not all the time. The love I have for Mama is really special. People becomes a nuisance to the relationship and can say bad things to Mama, so I don't like it when they're around her. So, he deserves to die because he could say bad things about Papa and about you both to Mama." He explained to the twins.

Jaehaera processed his words for a while. "Does that mean that weird creepy guy that Grandma Rhaenyra is married to deserves to die. Mama says he wants her to di..." Jaehaera thought of the word. "to stop being married to you."

"Hm..." Aegon barely help back his anger. "Yes, that guy deserves to die."

"If we want Mama to stay, then we have to get rid of the bad guys." Jaehaerys grumbled, looking upset by it. "Starting with that Weird Uncle."