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luxaofhesperides · 5 months

Note

For the ghostlights drabbles: “Say my name” with a favor being called in?

Duke had saved Phantom years ago, back when he was just out of high school and working to take down a branch of the government that was kidnapping and experimenting on people, targeting magic users and metas. Phantom had been working on his own to take them down, and they met in the middle, trashing a lab and freeing as many people as they could.

They had managed to shoot his back, knocking him down and making him bleed a glowing green. Phantom couldn’t move, protecting two kids with his body, and Duke couldn’t reach them in time before they were taken away by another swarm of agents.

He was able to go after them in time, free Phantom and the kids, and evacuated the victims before Phantom rained hell down on the facility.

At the end, standing in the background as they watched paramedics treat the victims and take them towards the nearest hospitals, Phantom had turned towards him and thanked him.

Or rather, he thanked the Signal and offered him a bracelet with a rounded orb of ice, glowing faintly in the dark. If you ever need me, he had said, Hold this, and call me name.

Phantom vanished once the last of the victims were transported to a safer location, and Duke hadn’t seen him since.

He’s kept up with news about Phantom as best he can, but from what he could tell, Phantom is based primarily in Amity Park, Illinois, and the town is fiercely protective of their hero. News rarely leaks out of there, and with them running on their own servers and independent internet, it was nearly impossible to get in from the outside.

Phantom remained a curious and distant figure in Duke’s life. He holds onto the bracelet still, guarding it carefully and sometimes running his fingers over the ice that never melts.

But he doesn’t call in that favor. He’s never to.

At least, not until now.

Sucking in a breath, Duke prepares himself and holds the orb of ice in the palm of his hand. He’s in civies, unable to hide his identity for this, and closes his eyes. “Phantom,” he says.

For a moment, nothing happens. Duke blinks his eyes open and frowns, mind already forming new plans to contact Phantom. Then the ice goes bitingly cold, almost painful, and the temperature in the room drops dramatically. The ice lifts up from his hand, floating in the air, then cracks open.

White-blue light spills out of it, growing brighter as it seems to swallow up the room entirely. Duke hurries to back up, an arm thrown up to protect his eyes. His breath mists out before him and he shivers as the sound of ice cracking fills the room.

And then, just as suddenly as it started, the light disappears and the cold fades away like a bad dream.

Slowly, Duke lowers his arm and looks up at Phantom, floating in the middle of his living room with a crown made of ice, engulfed in blue fire, hovers above his head. He looks older, more regal, holding his head high.

He regards Duke carefully for a minute, then tilts his head and says, “Signal?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Man, I’m so glad you came.”

“You… need help with something? You’re calling in your favor now, right?”

Duke nods. He understands Phantom’s confusion; being in the hero business means that favors like these tend to be used only during the most hopeless of times, when the world is close to ending, when the chances of getting out of a situation alive is close to impossible. It’s exactly the kind of thing Duke was expecting to call Phantom in for.

Not the kid sleeping on his couch.

“You’re a ghost, yeah?”

Phantom blinks at him. “Ghost king, now. Why?”

“Well…” Duke rubs the back of his neck, nervously. “I didn’t really know who else to call, and I can’t do this on my own since I’m not a ghost. But this kid got attached to me and won’t leave, so now I’m taking care of her and I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“I don’t know why you think I have any experience with kids but—”

“She’s a ghost.”

Phantom stops short. “Ah. I see.” He floats down until his feet touch the floor, and then he’s standing like any other person. “Where…?”

Duke looks past Phantom’s shoulder, and Phantom turns to follow his gaze. Chelsea, the ghost girl, looks to be around nine years old and is fast asleep on the couch, curled up under Duke’s softest blanket.

“Signal,” Phantom says quietly, “What, exactly, is the favor you need from me?”

“You can say no,” Duke starts. “I get that this is a lot. But I need help raising her. And since you’re a ghost, I figured you could help me learn about the ghostly side of things. You don’t have to raise her with me or anything! Just… I would appreciate any help you’re willing to give me.”

Phantom doesn’t say no. He doesn’t say anything. He just stares down at Chelsea, an unreadable expression on his face.

On the couch. Chelsea shifts in her sleep, brows furrowing as she makes a choked noise in the back of her throat.

Moving on autopilot after so many nights of this routine, Duke kneels next to the couch, fishing one of her hands from beneath the blanket. He gives it a few reassuring squeezes, keeping it a slow rhythm to pull her gently from her nightmare. She settles down in just a minute, brow smoothing out as she continues to sleep.

The silence grows and Duke is all too aware that his heart is the only one beating.

He doesn’t hear Phantom move. Doesn’t realize he’s right next to him until he sees Phantom’s hand reach out towards Chelsea. When Duke looks, Phantom is sitting on the floor next to Duke, looking at Chelsea with something soft and devastated in his eyes. His hand hovers about her head for a long moment, then slowly lowers to rest on her head.

The touch looks gently, barely putting any pressure on her head, but it’s enough to make Chelsea’s eyes snap open, suddenly wide awake. She stares at Phantom with wide eyes, then sits up and looks between him and Duke.

“Who are you?” she asks in a small voice that makes Duke want to stand against the world to keep her safe.

Phantom smiles. It’s casual and charming and makes him look like anyone else, as if he’s not a powerful king from a realm unreachable to humans. “Hi there,” he says, “I’m Danny. I’m a ghost like you. Signal called me and asked me to meet you.”

The Ghost King is good with kids. Who would have thought?

Chelsea looks at him for confirmation and only relaxes when he nods. “I’m Chelsea. What do you mean ghost? I’m not dead.”

Both he and Phantom tense, carefully keeping their expressions neutral. She hasn’t told him much at all, just that her parents were gone and forgot her and she got hurt, so she wanted to stay with ‘Mr. Signal’ because he’s a hero and heroes keep people safe and he was the only one who was Black like her. Duke hadn’t had the heart to say no, and began searching for her family, only to find that her parents had fled the state, and likely the country, after killing their only child through neglect and a dangerous environment.

It was then that he realized that her powers were not because she was a meta, but because she was ghost.

It still hurts to realize how young she is, how much of her life had been stolen from her in an instant. Duke hadn’t been brave enough to broach the topic with her, instead choosing to let her grow comfortable in his presence, get them both settled into a routine now that he was her primary guardian.

“I know it sounds scary,” Phantom says, “And you may not want to believe me, but it’s true. I’m sorry that you died so young, but that just means you get to hang out with me and other ghosts from now on!”

Chelsea crosses her arms over her chest and glares at him. “I am not dead,” she says.

“Cici, I’m sorry to say this, but you are,” Duke cuts in. “That’s why I called… Danny. You have new powers as a ghost, and he can help you get used to them.”

“I’m not dead!” she says again.

“Kid,” Phantom begins, but Chelsea shakes her head hard and hops off the couch.

“I’m not lying! Watch, I’ll prove it to you!” She closes her eyes and scrunches up her nose, concentrating. Her hands curl into tight fists by her sides, and the glow around her grows dim. Two faint, stuttering rings of light appear around her waist. They flicker and wobble in the air, as if weak and uncertain of their own existence, then split apart, one moving up towards her head while the other falls to her feet.

Beside him, Phantom sucks in a sharp breath, but Duke can’t turn to see what’s wrong when he’s trying to take in the sight of Chelsea suddenly full of vibrant color, looking more solid that he’s ever seen her, very much alive.

“See?” she says proudly, lifting her arms and doing a spin to show off her right she was. “I told you I’m not dead!”

“No, you’re not,” Phantom agrees, sounding shell-shocked. When Duke is finally able to look away from Chelsea to check on him, he looks awed. There’s the smallest smile on his face, just the slightest upturn of his lips, but it makes him look softer.

Duke turns his attention back to Chelsea before he can be caught staring. “Cici, can you come here for a second?”

She goes before he’s finished speaking, crossing the space between them in a single jump, then grins up at him. Her hair is a bit of a mess, the two buns he managed to get her hair into falling askew. He makes a note to visit the old aunties in the Narrows later to ask them to teach him how to do hair. For now, he holds out a hand and Chelsea drops an arm into it.

It seems to good to be true, having her be alive, but her pulse is steady and strong when he presses his thumb against the inside of her wrist.

“Well,” he says, leaning back and letting go of her arm. “You certainly proved us wrong.”

Chelsea doesn’t have much time to look smug before PHantom quietly says, “You’re like me.”

“What?”

“You’re like me,” he tells Chelsea. “A halfa.”

She tilts her head to one side. “What’s that?”

“Someone who is half human and half ghost. Both dead and alive.”

Duke blinks, taking in the words, then turns to face Phantom so quickly he’s worried he might give himself whiplash. Halfa, he said. Like me, he said.

And sure enough, two rings of light, bright and strong, appear around Phantom’s waist before splitting in half, moving over his entire body.

Gone is the Ghost King, all powerful and adorned in dark clothing with a crown of ice above his head. In his place is a guy who looks to be Duke’s age, eyes a deep blue and his black hair messy, feet set solidly on the floor. He looks completely normal, completely human, and no longer an impossibility.

“You still up for learning how to use all your new powers?” Phantom asks.

Chelsea grins. “Yeah!” And then, with a quick flick of her eyes going from Phantom to Duke that he almost misses, very innocently asks, “Are you going to stay with us then?”

“I… don’t know?” Phantom looks to Duke for an answer.

Already, Duke can see this going two ways. The correct way forward, the normal one, has Phantom popping in every so often, taking Chelsea out for a few hours to work on training her and her powers. It’s easy and routine and they can keep their boundaries uncrossed and be professional.

The other path is what Duke wants most that he shouldn’t impose onto the literal Ghost King. He could have Phantom living with them while he’s on Earth and out of Amity Park, having a place at the table, a section in the closet for his own clothes, a quietly domestic night together while Chelsea sleeps where they can get to know each other more, get to know each other outside of news reports and texts on a screen.

“You can stay with us if you want,” Duke offers, casually, “It might keep my apartment safe from her powers acting up on their own again.”

“Are you sure? I could always just fly in on the weekends or something.”

“I’d appreciate having you around. So you can help Cici.”

“If you don’t mind,” Phantom says, looking away. Like this, fully alive with a beating heart, it’s easy to see the blush steal away across his cheeks.

“I don’t.”

“I don’t either!” Chelsea pops in, looking far too gleeful by their awkward conversation.

Duke can’t help but laugh, feeling lighter than he had in ages. The relief of knowing that Chelsea is alive, for the most part at least, eases the guilt of thinking he had been too late to save her, that there was no chance she could have made it out and had a future, makes him feel weak. All the exhaustion of the past few weeks hits him all at once and he wants nothing more than to collapse in bed and sleep for twelve hours.

“Alright, squirt,” he says, reaching out to pat her head. “It’s late. We can talk more in the morning, so go to bed. In your actual bed this time, not on the couch.”

Chelsea stands up taller, ready to argue, but Duke gives her a Look™ and she quickly shuts her mouth, nods, and drags her feet back to her room (the former guestroom he can never give any of the other Waynes ever again, once they find out about her).

Sighing, Duke collapses onto the couch once he hears the door shut behind her. Phantom joins him after a few seconds, sitting tentatively on the edge of the couch. The cushion moves beneath his weight, another reminder of how solid and alive he is right not.

Duke wants to touch him, to reach out and feel for himself his pulse, the warmth of his body, his chest lifting with each breath.

He doesn’t move. He stays where he is, hands carefully still, and tries to think past the dizzying thoughts of she’s still alive, I’m not too late, he’s still here, he’s alive.

“Rough week?” Phantom asks, voice purposefully light.

“Something like that.”

“You should get some sleep too.”

“I don’t think I can. Not after everything. My mind’s too loud right now.”

Phantom shifts closer to him, hesitant in a way that Duke has never seen before in him, and asks, “Want me to stay with you until you mind quiets down some?”

“Yeah. I’d like that. Thanks, Phantom.”

“You know, if I’m going to be around so often as Chelsea’s halfa mentor, then you might as well call me Danny.”

Truth be told, Duke didn’t think that was his real name. He’s glad to know it’s not.

“Then call me Duke.”

“...Are you sure? You could still hide your identity from me.”

“Nah, I trust you. A name for a name, yeah?”

Danny smiles. “Duke,” he says, testing out the name, and it’s never sounded better than when it falls from Danny’s mouth.

“Danny,” Duke returns. He belatedly realizes that they’ve leaned towards each other, drawn together like gravity, stuck in each other’s orbit. It feels natural. It feels like this is where they’re meant to be.

Maybe he should be more cautious. They’ve only meant once before, after all. But he’s read all he could on Phantom and has seen how Amity Park loves him. He’s stressed and exhausted and trying to figure out how to look after a half-ghost child that’s already been dealt a bad hand in life. He should be keeping Phantom at a distance, watching over him carefully to ensure he isn’t a threat to Chelsea.

But Duke saw how he acted with Chelsea, so gentle and understanding and kind. That’s all he needed to see.

He may not know much about Danny, but he knows this: he is trustworthy.

Enough to entrust his identity to him.

Enough to entrust Chelsea to him.

It’s more than a favor; it’s a promise to walk this road together.

There’s no one he’d rather do this with.

“Thanks,” he says again, “For all of this. I know it’s a lot.”

Danny shrugs. “I don’t mind. Really. It’s nice to know there’s another halfa out there, no matter how she came to be one. Makes things feel less lonely.”

“Will you tell me more about halfas?”

“Later. Once you get some proper rest. We’ve got time, haven’t we?”

“We do,” Duke agrees, affection settling warm in his chest. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

Learning how to control her new powers won’t be easy for Chelsea. Learning how to take care of her won’t be easy. Learning how to do things together, as Duke and Danny rather than the Signal and Phantom, won’t be easy. But Duke knows with a certainty he feels in his bones that they’re going to be fine.

So long as they’ve got each other, they’ll be fine.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic #prompt fill #my writing #thought a lot abt what the favor could be but i could not resist the idea of surprise co-parents once i thought of it #here's a kid who clings to someone she knows is safe bc she is scared and alone!!#heres a stressed out hero trying to take care of a kid with no knowledge of how to do that!! and the kid is a ghost!!#heres a ghost king expecting to be used as a weapon and called in for a big battle suddenly finding another halfa!!!#so much going on here. so much to think abt with this!!!!!#i do love found family like this where they all kinda stumble into it and do their best to make it good #also could not resist making yet another oc. chelsea has my whole heart i love her <3 shes my daughter first #the bats dont know abt chelsea yet!! bc she can go invisble. its all been instinct every time they pop over to visit duke #soon she'll be able to control it and meet them properly #by properly i mean dukes gonna go over for sunday brunch and a little girl is gonna pop out from behind him like 'hi! im new!'#they will all love her of course. they will be shocked but happy!!#and a little less happy abt the GHOST KING duke has been hiding in his apartment that hes co-parenting with #sorry for the long tags im obsessed w this idea i want to Expand on it #maybe one day... with my other wips out of the way...

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spideypoolsupremacy · 5 months

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(Asking as someone who can't stop cringing at my attempts of smut and will probably never write it)

Also kissing doesn't count as smut. You can argue about it BUT IT'S NOT

Also ALSO I know the answer might depend on the fandom u are reading so let's just answer in general alrighty

Reblog for larger sample size blah blah blah (but like really plz)

#ao3 #fanfiction #writing #tumblr polls #feel free to add your opinions in the comments i wanna know #cuz i saw recently someone saying that they feel disapointed if the fic doesn't have smut in the end of a slowburn #and it got me thinkin #because I usually cling onto different things in fics and i do read smut but i never search for it #but now that im trying to write myself im curious how important it is to other people #like I've read some AMAZING fics with no smut in them #and also some amazing ones WITH smut in them #so i dunno

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bones-of-a-rabbit · 9 months

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tfw ur besties have just a lil bit of separation anxiety so now ur gonna have to spend another whole entire night at ur place of work bc ur a sucker and u can only get a proper nights sleep when ur best buddy is hold u like ur precious and so so so important <3 what good friends u have

#bones of a rabbit #bones of a rabbit fic #fnaf fanfic #doodles #sketches #bones of a rabbit fnaf #fnaf sun x y/n #fnaf sun x reader #afton au #afton au sun #afton'd sun #lovesick sun #tw possessive #tw possessive behavior #tw obsessive behavior #tw obsession #afton au sun moon and reader shaking hands #being incredibly traumatized by a workplace accident and coping by clinging to one another and/or being violent #just bestie things uwu

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funky-music · 2 months

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Do you think that Jiwoo and Kayden mimic each other in like other ways other than fighting?

Because if they do 😭😭

Like imagine they walk or sit the same way because they are around each other alot

Imagine kartein walking in after cleaning up the cats and feeding them, and he just walks in jiwoo and kayden sitting next to each other the same way watching TV or whatever

Imagine they wat certain foods the same way because they mirror each other

Imagine jiwoo picking more and more of Kaydens habits and quirks like a kid does to their parents 😭😭

Or them picking up each others speech patterns, like slang or phrases

Like I picked up saying dude in a certain way because of my sister or me doing finger guns and peace signs all the time made my sister and mom do it as well, like small things like that

Like those small things that make you think, yeah these two people are related or really close yk

Omg, someone should make a fic bout this or rec some to me, the way I would eat this up frfr 😭😭

#eleceed #jiwoo seo #kayden break #kayden x kartein #please rec some fics #make jiwoo a little baby duckling following around kayden #OMG imagine jiwoo just following kayden and clinging to him like a kid does to their parent #imagine him doing that to kayden wnen he is a cat 😭

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mayxo-hxh · 30 days

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hisoillus first hug ever was prompted by illumi while he was asleep. hisoka was already close and a sleeping illumi just wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close and hisoka froze the fuck up because he has NOT hugged anyone in.... decades

i like to think illumi hugs a pillow as he sleeps so he just ends up hugging hisoka without knowing and hisoka sits there for a good hour without moving a muscle not sure what the hell to do

If illumi wakes up he will either notice he was hugging hisoka or wouldnt notice bcs he wouldnt open his eyes until he'd untangled himself from hisoka already so hed be like. huh. it felt like i was hugging something while sleeping i wonder what that was. if he did notice tho jdsbgjbdgjdhgsj

I also think itd be INSANELY funny if illumi thinks hisokas his pillow while eepy and he just. wants to turn to the other side and ends up lifting hisoka with his entire strength and flips him to the other side with him and hisokas like ?????????????????????????????

#the awkwardness of it all is just the cherry on top.#hisoka tries to move away but illumi clings tighter and at this point he just wants to not exist in the moment #theyd both be so insanely awkward about physical touch with each other at first bcs hisoka isnt used to it at all #but as time goes by... the moment they get comfy with it? its all theyre ever doing together when theyre all alone...#cuddles. lots of cuddles. lots of hand holding. its a love language. its THEIR love language. holding each other. knowing ur loved 1 is saf #right in between ur arms. its where u both belong. where u both feel the safest.#anyways ill take all of these big ass descriptions into my hisoillu fics instead lmao adios #hisoillu #hisoka x illumi #illumi #illumi zoldyck #hisoka #hisoka morow #hxh #hunter x hunter #my post #my hcs

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dustydaddyyy · 4 months

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...........would anybody read a joel miller x pregnant!reader slow burn in the jackson era.........which would have scenes/lines including (but not limited to):

"what do you mean you think I'm pregnant?!"

"on the list of stupid things I have gotten up to, this has to take the top spot"

"you'd think after 56 years of life you'd have perfected the pull-out method...."

"if nobody thought i had daddy issues before, they definitely do now,"

and:

"we're just friends who. . . happen to be having a baby"

"no, we're friends who got irresponsibly drunk and engaged in unsafe sex even though we're supposed to be adults and know better and now have to bring a baby into a post-apocalytpic hellscape, where it has an exactly 50% survival rate."

"you really suck the fun out of everything,"

AND ellie (bonus!)

"oh man. . . you really can't keep it in your pants, can you, old man?"

"i mean. . . it's not like you can get her pregnant again. . . so i'd say go for it,"

"I thought your sex drive was supposed to get lower the older you got,"

#feeling out the terrain #reluctant to say much more ngl i'm clinging to this idea like a liferaft #isa already convinced me lol but i need to be validated #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel miller fic

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chocolatepot · 27 days

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rating: T | words: 1,814 | one-shot

Innkeepers Era, Post-Episode: s02e08 Mermen, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Blackbeard | Edward Teach Loves Stede Bonnet, Stede Bonnet Loves Blackbeard | Edward Teach, POV Stede Bonnet, Fluff and Angst, Post-Canon

How do you deal with the hurts given to you by someone who's died? Well, you talk them through. Ed and Stede talk about pining for one's boyfriend.

#my fic #ofmd #gentlebeard #blackbonnet #I am clinging to sanity by my fingertips

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ninja-knox-ur-sox-off · 2 months

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As much as i complain about the unreliable narration in monkie kid I watched that one new Di sney+ series and I gotta say I'd like to apologize to monkie kid for throwing shade you're beautiful I'll take unreliable narration over fifteen minutes of unbroken diologue that explains everything immedeatly after it happens so you have no time to process or disscuss any day

#knox rambles #clinging to monkie kid like a lifeline #high quality animation good characters good storytelling its not perfect but i love it im sending the crew valatines chocolates platonically #yes the unreliable narration plays a big part in the fandoms opinions on monkey kind but you know what theyd probably have those opinions #anyway im over it *wheezing*#i aint even looked at monkie kid fan content in ages aint my problem-#i hope everybodys having fun <3 #i started another fic instead of working on the dadsy one i have 5k of HDHFJJG #DONT LOOK AT MEEEEE

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wolfie-bee · 8 months

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Very excited to share my Supercorp Big Bang 2023 fic:

the pieces of me (cling to you)

Em (@shipinsight) was my lovely artist for this collaboration and she made stunning art for my fic here: the pieces of me (cling to you) Art

Please go show her some love, she did such an amazing job 💗💗

moodboard below done by my talented friend (@awaitingrain ) 💗💗

the pieces of me (cling to you)

Summary:

"To know me is to know pain, Supergirl." Lena says simply. "To know me is to know that coincidentally, on the same day you disappeared, my helicopter was blown out of the sky."

Lena's words land their intended blow. Supergirl flinches, guilt etched across her face like Lena had just damned her to Hades. And maybe she did.

"To know me," she continues, stalking forward once more, watching in sardonic glee as the veins in Supergirl's body light up once more."is to understand that I don't care about what if's and altruistic Supers who also want to do no harm." She says, pausing when Supergirl’s prone form is but an inch from her boot.

What if Metallo Lena meets Supergirl and feels a strange connection to her that she couldn't identify the source of? And what if she kept Supergirl around long enough to explain this strangeness to her?

Written for Supercorp Big Bang 2023

And thank you to the awesome mods who organized this event 💗 @supercorpbb

#supercorp #scbb 2023 #supergirl #lena luthor #kara danvers #the pieces of me (cling to you)#metallo lena #5x13 canon divergent #this fic is my baby #my fics #my writing

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scifrey · 1 year

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Keepsakes

Status: Ongoing Ficlet collection; unbeta'd

Series: the Hob Adherent series

Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022) Includes some comics canon, and some cameos from the wider Gaiman-verse (including the Good Omens and Lucifer television shows), but it’s not necessary to know to enjoy the story.

Rating: Mature-ish.

Warnings: Discussions of grief and in-canon character death. Some sexytimes. Some whomp and hurt/comfort.

Relationships: Morpheus | Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling, Eleanor | Hob Gadling’s Wife/Hob Gadling (past)

Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Hob Gadling, Patrick the Bartender, Harriet Butler, Matthew the Raven

Summary: Short ficlets set in the Hob Adherent world, based on prompts received from readers. Feel free to DM me or leave prompts in the comments, and if it resonates with me, I may write up a ficlet! Thank you for the inspiration in advance.

Set amid the events of Cling Fast and Carpe Diem

READ ON AO3 OR READ BELOW:

Postcards

"So, a sword in Buckingham's army, a bandit, a printer, a shipwright and then a merchant middleman for the dockyards, a knight, a beggar, investment broker--"

"Slaver," Hob interrupts Harriet as she counts off his professions on her fingers one slow, sunny afternoon at The New Inn. "Call the thing what it was."

Hari offers him a sympathetic smile. They're the only ones in the pub proper today, as Patrick is off to tend his ailing mother, Dee doesn't come in Mondays, and Morph is having lunch with his editor.

"After which you were an MP and staunch abolitionist, a soldier again in America for the North, an industrialist and labor rights advocate, a yuppie and silicone valley early adopter--"

"Apple paid for most of this," Hob agrees, selecting a glass and checking it for water spots or lipstick stains.

"--and now a professor and publican. Am I missing any?"

“Oh!” Hob remembers as he pulls a pint for her. "And I was ruler of Hell."

She leans across the bar from her stool, and thwacks his arm. “Fuck off, you were not, you old liar,” Hari laughs.

"Was so!" Hob protests, setting her beer down in front of her. "Ask my husband. He was there. I was ruler of Hell for thirteen minutes and seventeen seconds on my six-hundred and sixty-sixth birthday."

Hari raises a challenging eyebrow at Hob over her pint glass as she takes a sip. "I won't believe a thing the Prince of Stories tells me," she says decisively, when she sets the beer back down. "And I don't believe you."

Hob pulls a postcard from L.A. off the bar back, where it's been pinned to a corkboard among a handful of others, all from the same city. This card depicts a cartoon devil drawn over a photo of the Hills, lounging on the iconic Hollywood sign. It says "Greetings from Sin City!" in bright yellow font.

Hob hands it to Hari to inspect. Her face gets drawn as her eyes flick over the handwritten note on the back.

"To my fellow former ruler of Hell; I did it! I opened a nightclub, just like you suggested. Visit me at LUX any time you'd like, Hobsie. xxx Lucifer Morningstar," Hari reads in a voice that grows increasingly strangled.

She hands the card back to Hob with trembling fingers. Then she shotguns the rest of her pint.

"So hell is real, then," Hari warbles.

Hob shrugs. "Everything is real. Humans create gods, not the other way around. If someone believes in it, it exists."

Hari nods thoughtfully. "I suppose you would know, being married to a god."

Hob chuckles. "Well, former god-ish. And don't worry, only people who believe they deserve to go to Hell actually do. Self-punishment or fulfilling prophecy, or something. I try not to think to much about that Celestial stuff."

Hari nods again, and without asking, Hob refills her pint glass. He has a feeling she's going to need it.

"But it is something I'm going to have to worry about," Hari says softly, accepting the drink with a nod.

"Not any time soon, I hope," Hob says, folding his arms on the bar top and leaning close to offer her a comforting look. "And when it does happen, I can promise you that my sister-in-law is gentle and kind. You have nothing to worry about."

Harriet runs her arthritis gnarled finger up and down the side of the glass, collecting up the condensation. "You know, that is actually a comfort." She looks up at Hob with a wicked little grin. "Especially knowing your husband."

Hob throws his head back and laughs.

#losyark #cling fast adjacent #cling fast #carpe diem #the hob adherent series #hob adherent #hob gadling #hob x dream #dream x hob #dreamling fic #dream #dreamling #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #gaimanverse #sandman hob #retirement!Dream #keepsakes

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crybaby-bkg · 1 year

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Dabi is surprisingly a lightweight. You honestly would’ve never figured by looking at him, but as you think back on it, you’ve never really seen him drink a lot. Not when there were celebratory parties, or when things didn’t go right for him. It’s why you’re so shocked when you convince two shots into his system, why he suddenly looks so loose, why his grin splits so wide.

He’s a clinger, you’ve also learned as you’ve started observing the blue eyed man where he shoves his face into the crook of your neck. His body bends over almost uncomfortably to fit into the position, and you can’t help but flinch a little when his damp breath blows a quiet little raspberry on your flesh.

omg wait my favorite thought is of you not even necessarily being a heavyweight, you can just handle your liquor a little better than anyone expects. you love to knock back drink after drink, convince Dabi into some stupid competition that he falls for because he’s such a little nerd and secretly wants to impress you. he does it thinking you’ll be the drunk one first, the one hanging off of his arm and hopefully his dick by the end of the night.

it belatedly shocks him when it’s the exact opposite. when he’s slurring a little and smiling at you, when you watch him through low eyes with a wide grin, when he wraps himself around you like a python, when you shake his face gently as you squish his cheeks together in hand. he’s just so utterly obsessed with you in these moments, and maybe it’s the liquor in him, but he knows his lowered inhibitions are only bringing forth the feelings he’s always suppressed.

drunk sex with Dabi where he’s the one too loose limbed and limp and weak. he flops onto bed like some rag doll with his arms and legs spread wide, but he musters up enough strength to release the heavy weight of his cock from its confinements. doesn’t do much besides lift his head from the pillows with a point to his crotch and a lazy grin, an announcement of, go ahead and hop on already before he’s flopping back down again, ready to lay back and get fucked like how he knows he deserves.