I want. Four to get appreciation. Because
Four gave a ton of unnoticed help when Twilight was injured
The fight with Wild was difficult, and I know we're all concerned about his negative view of the shadow crystal
But Four did something that no one else really thought of to help- He took care of Twi's stuff
From the beginning he told Twilight to not worry about them
So Four took care of pretty much everything but the others (that Sky and Wars handled)
He took care of Epona
Which is so very important- he took care of Twilight's horse. After her arrival at the stable Four followed up on her
And for Epona, a horse so attached to her human, having some company can help so much for reassurance
He took care of Twilight's stuff
He got Twi's shield- his bags and equipment, and organized it into one place
And he was worried. He obviously found the shadow crystal while handling Twi's stuff, but his negative reactions to it were out of concern.
Also- because of his placement in this scene
I'm fairly convinced Four was ready to start cooking before Wild showed up (since he's beside the counter with food supplies). At the very least he had the basket of fruit out for everyone -but he was literally standing with food behind him- he thought of everything
And he did housekeeping!
Wars payed for the inn, so Four took care of the inn
Realistically these boys were probably not too concerned with tidyness. Four got all of Twi's things on one table, and took care of the room they stayed in
Organizing tables and Twi's things, having food supplies ready, and opening the curtains- overall he was the one tidying up the inn
Four helped in a huge way! He took care of Twi's horse (Epona is so important), his equipment and shield and bag, as well as the other rooms in the inn
Four filled in all the little tasks that others didn't think of. He helped in ways that were needed, but not obvious
There's a lot of problems with the shadow crystal and with Wild, and I don't know what's gonna happen in the future
But don't forget this- don't forget that Four was one who stepped up in an almost unnoticeable way
Don't forget that when everyone was barely holding it together, Four visited Twilight's horse and took care of his things
No matter what develops in the future- this amount of care shown is important ya know?
.
Art and comic from Jojo @linkeduniverse au :)))
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dpxdc - Neglected Child AU
As one of his first acts as Ghost King, Danny basically created ghost CPS. Mostly they help new spirits come to terms with the fact that they're dead, but situations like Danny's are a lot more common than the Observants had lead him to believe. People who come back from the dead or are exposed to large quantities of unstable ectoplasm often lead sad, short second lives. Either because they are unable to obtain the nutrients their new forms require, or because their communities turn against them in fear. This is a story about Jason Todd.
There was a lot Jazz loved about her job. She loved helping young ghosts find acceptance. She loved matching cases with foster Fraids. She loved meeting new people. She loved the rare excuse to travel dimensions. But some days, Jazz was intimately reminded of why this program was formed in the first place.
Knock, knock, knock.
Jazz looked up from her laptop. “Come in!”
Apple – the ghost of a dryad whose tree was chopped down two summers ago – poked her head in.
“Uh, Lady- I mean, Ms. Phan-, no,” Apple took a shuddering breath. Jazz smiled encouragingly. The girl had only been working here for a season, and already she was making excellent progress. “Ms. Jasmine, there’s a city spirit here to see you, uh, on behalf of a uh, potential client.”
“Thank you, Apple, you can send them in.” Jazz said.
Apple flushed green, closing the door with a sigh. Jazz guessed she had about two minutes before the impromptu meeting began. She used the time to sweep some papers off her desk and into a drawer. It had been some time since she’d had a walk-in like this. Jazz had a strict open doors policy when it came to her office, despite the technical fact that her door was often closed; it was just easier to focus that way! She had no idea why most ghosts preferred to submit claims by mail, really it was much better for them to speak with an officer in person.
Thirty years ago, Jazz would’ve had trouble describing the spirit that walked through the doors. Fifty years ago, even looking at it would’ve been painful. But Jasmine Duchess Phantom had been living in the Infinite Realms for almost eighty years now, and liminal senses reached out subconsciously, cataloging scents and colors that her mortal mind would have balked at.
The shape of a steel-colored skeleton peered out at her from a billowing cloud of grey smoke, which curled around its feet and seeped across the floor. Jazz tasted gunmetal and sugar, smelled stale urine and burned bread, felt desperation-fear-hunger-love crash violently against her. Like a cliff to a wave, Jazz stood her ground, letting herself be tested. This spirit was old and afraid; when it spoke, it spoke in a million overlapping voices.
“My apologies for barging in unannounced, Your Grace. I come before you with an issue of great import. One I have reason to believe our King may have a personal interest in.”
Jazz nodded, “My doors are always open, City Spirit. I’m always happy to help. But before I hear your petition, may I know who I am addressing?”
The skeleton did not move that she could see, but Jazz heard windchimes like chittering laughter.
“I am Gotham, Your Grace. My apologies for my rudeness. I have little reason to travel these days and am unaccustomed to necessary introductions.”
Jazz nodded, committing the name and its taste to memory. “No need to apologize, Gotham. Your situation is not unique amongst your kind. Have a seat,” Jazz gestured at the plush couch across from her desk. “What troubles you so, to bring you so far from home?”
There was more windchime tittering, and Jazz wondered if the spirit was laughing or just readjusting itself on a plane she could not see. A nervous tick, perhaps? Maybe she could send Apple for something to make Gotham feel more at ease. Bullet casings or chocolate chip cookies would be equally soothing to this entity, Jazz guessed.
Gotham folded into itself, form blurring slightly before reforming on the couch, leaned forward with elbows on knees. “Many years ago, a mortal man pledged himself to my service. I accepted him as a City Guard, my mortal Champion. This man has many children who have likewise pledged themselves to my protection.”
Jazz smothered the urge to interrupt. She loathed the idea of child Guards; the fact that this City Spirit was here now asking for help meant that this instance had gone just as well as it usually did.
Unaware of her internal judgement, Gotham continued. “The second child died and revived some seven years ago, I…” This time, the rattling sound emanating from Gotham shook the room with the force of a thunderclap. “You have to understand, I don’t claim kids as champions, so technically he was never even under my protection. And when he came back, he ran! I don’t have power outside the city, you know, so even if, well, it’s not like there was anything I could have done differently,”
Jazz was aware that she was frowning. She could only guess what her aura felt like to Gotham, whose smoky aura was rapidly thickening. A bird puffing itself up to look bigger. A cheap trick. If Jazz were in a more compassionate mood, she might have felt embarrassed at such a juvenile display from a spirit decades older than herself.
“You neglected a child, or-” she cut off Gotham before it could protest, “allowed a child to be neglected. For seven years. What changed? Why petition him now and not then?”
Gotham chittered, “Well, you see, he came back to me just over a year ago, retook his pledge and everything. And, well, things were rough, I thought the fraid was just readjusting itself, but, er-”
“Tell me.”
“Well, the problem is I don’t exactly know what the boy is anymore, but he’s more ghostly than not, and his fraid’s fully human. If this infighting between my Guards goes on for any longer, it’ll tear me apart. I figured The King might want to step in, considering this boy might be a halfa, maybe he could help him and the fraid get back to normal.”
Jazz grinned. “Rest assured, Gotham, The Crown will indeed be taking special interest in your case.” Words dripped from her lips, caustic even to her own ears. “Now, why don’t you go outside and give Apple the rest of the details. I have some visits to make.”
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Alec Hardison works best under pressure
Especially time pressure. He'd probably disagree and say he works better when he has time to plan and no pressure, but I mean c'mon, the evidence speaks for itself.
Nate knows it after one job with Hardison - probably soon than that, let's be honest. The others figure it out at the same time or in quick succession. And they proceed to throw Hardison - completely unawares - into situations where his prowess is needed under a time crunch.
Hardison: Great, we made it in! Now how are we doing this complicated next part that involves electronics in less than 2 minutes?
The whole team: No idea, that's your job.
Hardison: .......... Wait, what?!
The whole team: 90 seconds.
And the best part is, he always delivers! Need to defuse a bomb on a plane with only moments to spare? Call Alec Hardison who's not even on the damn plane and has probably never defused a bomb in his life! Need to break into a car that has an 'impenetrable' security system in under a couple minutes while a whole bunch of car thieves watch? Call Alec Hardison who definitely does not know the first thing about car jacking!
I just love how this keeps happening and, every time, Hardison is keen to be involved and keep the con running smoothly, but always gets completely blindsided when they want him to do something that doesn't fall under any of the specialties, so it must fall under his.
Alec Hardison is king and you will never convince me otherwise.
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imagining reading a spicy romance novel in front of a crackling fire place, hardly clothed, comfortably sitting on the floor leaning back against the couch's cushions, the lulling gentle patters of raindrops clashing amongst the windows of the cozy cabin...peeping up at a peering Miguel.
brows perched up as you watch him gradually make his way towards you, slowly lowering your book as you feel his warm hands smooth up the stride of your bare legs, fingers soothing out along the supple exposed skin. daring, soft carmine irises never leaving your own with such admiration and hunger.
"you've been reading that book quite frequently, mi amor..." he leans down to kiss the hilt of your knee, fingers trailing up further beneath the borrowed shirt of his grazing over your pretty body. gently takes the lulling book from your grasp and sets it down beside the both of you. you smile cheekily, running your own hands up along his cheeks to the soften tresses of warm mahogany.
"I think it's time you give your loving husband some attention..." he humbs lightly, brushing the pliant touch of his soft lips against your knee up to the higher plain of your thigh. you giggle with a breathy gasp, his wide hands caressing the curvy dips of your voluptuous hips, fingers playing with the straps of your thin panties. playfully, you chew onto your bottom lip, nails raking through each silky strand of his wavy hair.
"mm, I think you're right Miggy...I have been too cooped up in that silly book...need to give my adoring husband my entire undivided attention, hm?"
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Okay so I sort of fell face-first into the Star Trek fandom and went on a Spirk fic reading spree. And, as is usual with my reading, I latched onto a plot that my brain is going nuts over.
There was a fic where Kirk found out he was like, 1/16th Vulcan because some industrious Vulcan lady a while ago decided the only logical way to experience Earth was to settle down and have kids there with a native and not tell anybody. Anyway, its very amusing, turns out Kirk is the last living descendent of some noble Vulcan house and as such can inherit quite a few profitable investments and a potential future High Council seat if he wants, though his taunts of assuming such a position to annoy Spock fall on the back burner when he suddenly goes into Pon Farr because of course he does.
But my brain immediately latched onto 'part-Vulcan Jim Kirk' and went a tiny bit rabid.
So the idea arrived. Kirk, completely unaware of his Vulcan ancestry, encounters Shenanigans on an Away Mission as is customary. Alien medical tech goes a bit bonkers and the captain is hit but physically okay, just unconscious. Bones will still give him hell when he wakes up but Spock can breathe easy. The Shenanigans were mild this time. Or were they? Turns out the medical tech actually did do something. It stimulated the latent Vulcan genes, artificially encouraging growth and change at an incredibly rapid pace, not eleminating Kirk's humanity but elevating him from Human with Vulcan spice, to almost even half n' half.
So we get poor Kirk waking up with undisciplined telepathic powers, a much stronger body, and the worst headache known to humanoids. Bones discovering his patient has miraculously decided to switch species overnight. And poor, poor Spock who just got over the minor heart attack of the previous incident and is now face to face with the prettiest Vulcan he has ever fucking seen.
Because half-Vulcan!Jim is blond, blue-eyed, and radiating 'confused kicked puppy' vibes like the world's most attractive telepathic foghorn.
Bonus points if Spock goes into Pon Farr early because Jim is projecting so much emotion and is also just That Pretty.
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