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fishcat480 · 3 months

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Dog in Winter

SUMMARY:

Kids from Districts 1-4 don't have to fear the reaping.

Careers always volunteer.

Until a tragic accident forces Lustre Baneswood into the Games with no hope of winning. An actor, and the daughter of a Gamemaker, Lustre has to decide what she desires more: glory or her life.

But there is a dark underbelly to the Games, and winning is not always the end. Lustre Baneswood is going to discover the price one has to pay for beating the odds.

Spanning from the 72nd Hunger Games all the way to three years after the events of Mockingjay, this is the story of a girl struggling to reclaim her identity after giving it away to the people who would hurt her most.

FANDOM: Hunger Games

Pairing: Original Plus Size Character/Original Male Character

Other Characters: Finnick Odair, Annie Cresta, Gloss, Cashmere, Joanna Mason, Katniss Everdeen, Peeta Mellark, President Snow, President Coin, Gale, Prim

It was 5am when the call came.

I’d been awake for hours writing, the only time I was able to get any of it done. Mother doesn’t like my writing, and classes at the observatory took up all of my time during the day. My hands were cramping over the datapad keyboard, and I swiped a knuckle over my bloodshot eyes, trying desperately not to succumb to sleep.

The sound of the phone had been so unexpected I’d jerked violently upright. With a cursory glance at the time, I quickly padded out of my room and into the empty hall. Moonlight shone in harsh slivers through the full-length windows. I followed the ringing sound through the silver-white hallway and into the main room of our apartment, where the phone lay next to the front door.

“Hello?” I said, agitation and fatigue coloring my voice. The door to my parents’ room opened and my mother stepped cautiously out, her hair wrapped in a pink silk turban and mouth set in a firm line. My father was just behind her, his eyes horizontal slits, his hair a tuft of downy cotton.

The voice on the phone shrieked at me. “Frederick?! Frederick something’s happened!”

I shook my head before I remembered they could not see me. “No, this is his daughter. Is this an emergency?”

The voice went from feverish to chilly in a moment, freezing my veins like icicles. “Put him on, love. It’s urgent.”

My father had already begun walking over, and he took the phone from me quickly. “Hello?” he asked, his hands reaching into the breast pocket of his pajamas, where he’d placed a box of matches. He fumbled in the drawer of the side table for smokes.

“Uh- huh…Yes, I remember….”

I watched him for a moment, hoping his body language might clue me into what was going on. When I got nothing, I joined my mother on the opposite side of the room. “ D’ya think everything’s ok?”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s the Games. Everything’s an emergency.”

The Games were the most hectic time of our family’s life, with my father a showrunner and my mother performing in reenactments and singing at parties. Even my brothers had gotten involved now that they were out of school.

Still, the voice on the phone had sounded scared. Desperate. Something felt off.

“You’re joking.” my father said, lowering the cigarette from his mouth, and bellowing. “You’re fucking joking.”

“Fredrick?” my mother asked immediately. My father did not raise his voice ever. He stared at us, his face ashen, as he listened to whatever news was being delivered on the other end.

“Dad?” I asked, when his eyes locked onto mine and didn’t leave.

“We’ll get another volunteer.” he said, desperate. “There are dozens of kids. Dozens of options.”

Volunteer…?

The reaping had been two days ago, and as expected, both tributes had been volunteers, eager to go into the Games. That’s why I hadn’t even flinched when they called my name. Reaping day was like picture day at school - annoying, but a good excuse to get out of class.

My volunteer had been my best friend. It was her final year in the reaping pool, and her last chance to go into the Games and prove herself. If I could bet, I would have bet on her winning the entire thing.

But now my father was looking at me like I was a hundred miles away, and talking about other volunteers. Why did we need another volunteer? Where was Razzle?

“Dad!” I cried. “What’s going on?”

Tears had begun falling onto his cheeks, and my mother was lurching forward to hold his face in her hands. The excitement had woken my brothers now, both of them tumbling out of their rooms with mussed hair and slurring voices.

“Luster, what’s happening?” Kellen asked from behind me, he and Jace standing on either side of me. Jace scratched his chest with a lazy hand.

“Something bad.” I said. That was all I knew.

My mom was soothing our dad, her hands trying to rub away tears that just kept coming. The phone was pressed to my dad’s ear, still listening. He gently pushed my mom’s comfort away, resignation taking over. Something had happened to Razzle.

“What time?” he asked. The answer made him sigh.

“Ok.” And he hung up. My mother didn’t waste any time. “Frederick,what on earth is going on? It’s practically dawn. The Games are your job, not your life. Oh, these people!”

My mother continued ranting, but my father was looking at me again. I knew already that I would be leaving, but my mind was obsessing more over the why.

“What happened to her?” I asked. My mother grew quiet. My brothers looked confused.

“Training accident.”

“Is she…?”

“Yes.”

Dead. Razzle was dead. And she had volunteered in my place.

“When are they coming to get me?”

“Within the hour.”

My family’s eyes were widening and cries of indignation sounded on their tongues. “She’s going into the Games!?” my mother yelled. “No! Frederick, no!”

“She’s not trained.” Kellen said. Jace said nothing. He wasn’t much for talking.

“She was reaped!” my father explained. “And her volunteer has died. It is law that she must go.”

My mother’s eyes bugged out of her head. “And you’re a showrunner. Surely they don’t expect the law to apply to us!”

It often didn’t.

“This is different. This is the Games. If Luster becomes exempt from them for being my daughter, then other future tributes could argue their way out of participating. Snow would have to weed them out and use force. It could foster dissent.”

It was five in the morning and my family was standing in the living room, talking of treason.

“It’s fine. I’ll go.”

Kellen scoffed, arms folded across his chest. “You’ll die. You’re not a career, you’re a fucking actress.”

The heel of my mother’s hands were pressed against her eyes, her perfectly manicured nails curled tightly against the palm of her hand. “Kellen! Please, that’s not necessary.”

My father puffed on his cigarette, lost in thought. Kellen didn’t back down. “She’s not going to live, mom. Am I supposed to just sit here and watch while my sister dies?”

She draped herself across the chaise. “We’ll figure something out. I’ll talk to Pedro in casting. Maybe a lookalike?”

My father joined her, looking intrigued. “That might work. We’ll release her for training, but for the arena it can be anyone. Keep the close-ups to a minimum, kill her in the first ten minutes.”

Jace was still standing next to me. I watched in abject horror as my parents and Kellen planned the murder of an innocent girl in place of myself. I felt something warm on my hand, and looked down to see Jace’s pinky linking with mine. Then his whole hand. When I turned to him, he didn’t look upset or scared. He was smiling at me.

“Who was the girl who did makeup for you for 68?” Kellen had his hands on his hips, pacing across the living room. He looked the picture of a gamemaker, and it made my stomach swoop like drinking milk that had turned.

“Petra or something?” he asked. “Get her involved.”

My mother was taking notes on an old script. My father was punching something into a datapad, tugging at his hair in distress.

“Stop.” I called, but they ignored me.

“We’ll have to keep Luster out of sight for at least a year. Julian will find us a nice little bungalow for her to lie low in.”

“Pay for it now.” my father said. “Travel to the Capitol increases after the Games.”

“Stop!” I said again, and this time I got their attention.

“You are not killing a random girl just so I can live. That’s actually insane!”

My father shook his head. “No, there are people who like the attention! They’ll do it willingly.”

Willingly….When had someone in a District past four ever gone into a Games willingly?

“I don’t care. That’s fucked.” I removed my hand from Jace’s and ran it through my hair. “This whole thing is fucked.”

Gently, Kellen approached me. “Luster, I know you’re stressed. Let us …un fuck this for you. A year in lockdown, a new Games will happen, and everyone will forget about it. Then we’ll get you a job at the studio.”

“Doing what?” I laughed. “I’m eager to know what you think I’d want to do at the studio.”

He shrugged, frustration evident. “Stylist? Hair and makeup? I don’t know, Luster! I don’t really care, as long as you’re alive.”

“And what about the other tributes? The ones from 9? Or 12? The ones who don’t have careers to volunteer for them. What about the people who want them alive?”

My mother harrumphed, and somehow she had moved from the chaise to the bar, pouring herself a glass of port. “Oh, sweetie, it’s too early in the morning to develop a conscience.”

But drinking wine, I thought bitterly, was perfectly acceptable. If I said anything, she’d hold my impending doom up as her reason for indulging. My head was on the chopping block, but she’d be the one to lose blood somehow. I didn’t particularly care to open that can of worms, so I ignored her entirely in favor of turning to my father.

“Daddy, I don’t want you to get me out of this.”

That statement shifted the temperature of the room greatly. Stillness blanketed us. Kellen punched something hard enough to break it, but I refused to look at what it was. He was always so petulant, and I wouldn’t give into him.

I held my father’s gaze, desperate for him to see things my way, if only for a moment.

“I’ve done everything you guys wanted. I went to Opal instead of Harrison. I went into acting and not writing. I attended every party, talked to every miserable asshole, wore every stupid outfit. All I want in return is for you to let me go.”

He took a puff from his cigarette, already practically down to the filter. It was funny, watching him smoke. I’d never seen him do it before in my life. Not once.

“Why?”

It was a fair question. The answer was more complicated. Because it’s right …but he wouldn’t understand that. Because she volunteered for me…. He wouldn’t understand that either. Hell, I didn’t even understand why I wanted to go. But Jace was still smiling at me, still believing in me like he always had. Sometimes it felt like he knew what I needed before I even had a chance to do the needing.

“Because she was my best friend….and she was supposed to win.”

My father’s face fell. He may not have understood what was right, but he understood honor. He understood fair. He nodded slowly, stubbing his smoke out on the arm of the couch. He must have still been half asleep.

“Ok.”

He didn’t say anything else, and I thanked him quietly before giving him a hug. He held me to him, and it felt like when I was a girl and I would run to him as he came home from work, calling out to him in glee. He’d scoop me up from the ground and press all the pain and grief of his day into my bones, and I took it from him like any other gift. This hug felt like that. He was pressing his grief into my bones, except this time I was grieving too.

When the peacemakers came, I went willing. Quiet. Everyone knew not to resist a peacemaker, even if you were in the right. Agitation led to aggression. Peacemakers were not aggressive dogs, they were violent ones. Hand biting often led to death.

Kellen had refused to say goodbye. I didn’t entertain his fury, just wrapped my arms around his middle. He didn’t move away, but he didn’t hug me back.

Mother was three pours in by the time I had to go. She blew air kisses and raised her glass.

Jace gave me a proper hug and kiss, and pulling away from him had been the hardest goodbye of them all.

“My writing…” I told him, and he nodded.

“I’ll keep it safe.”

My father had taken helicarriers before. He would be taking one hours after me, headed to the Capitol for the Games. I hadn’t ever had the pleasure.

While the door was open, wind and sound rotated around you in a maelstrom. There was something happening everywhere. A seatbelt was being placed across my lap, a pilot was checking gauges, the Peacekeepers chatting in even tones. When the door was closed, though, it was silent.

A light thrum of the engine was the only background noise, but I was effectively left alone with my thoughts for an hour. This was not good.

My thoughts were instantly on Razzle, and with nothing to distract my mind, grief settled in my chest like a purring cat.

She’d spent the morning of the reaping in my bed. We often had sleepovers, but this one had not involved much sleep. Her hands had touched me roughly, like sandpaper, and I had liked the grit of it. I was always considered so delicate, like glass. Razzle touched me like I was solid stone.

She’d whispered promises into my hair, weaving them around the strands like the ribbons I would place there hours later. “When I win, we’ll go away.” She’d said. “When I win, we’ll have forever.”

When. There had been no question in my mind that there would be a when. The only question left unanswered was the how.

But now, there was no when or if or how. There was instead.

We touched down in only an hour. My stomach roiled from the constant vibrations, and when I stepped off it lurched dangerously. Vomit pushed its way onto my tongue. I stopped halfway from the helicarrier and the safety of the roof entrance, the peacekeepers’ hands flying straight to their guns.

I waved my hand at them to give me a moment, but they grabbed me violently by the arm and shoved me along my way. The nausea bobbed up and down inside me. I tried to keep myself from letting it give way to sickness.

In the end I didn’t throw up, but I wanted to.

We took an elevator down, down, down. The first District tributes stayed on the first floor, with the second District tributes on the second and so on and so on all the way until the penthouse. District Twelve lived like cattle, so they got treated like kings. We were all being served up on the finest of China, waiting to be eaten whole.

The Peacekeepers kept their eyes trained on me. They wanted me to act out. A peacekeeper craved violence like a horse craved water after a long ride. The one to my left tightened his hand around his baton. I looked down at the floor.

They dropped me off in the first floor suite, where two people waited at the dining room table. I knew them as Gloss and Cashmere, winners of the 63rd and 64th Games respectively. Cashmere sat cross legged on the table, her silky blond hair pulled into a low ponytail. Her pajamas were champagne colored silk and they emphasized icy blue eyes that stared at me with no discernible emotion.

Gloss stood scowling, his large arms folded across his chest. His pajama pants were silk, too, except in blackest black. Instead of the matching shirt he wore a white T-shirt.

I felt a bit lackluster in my grey sweats and Opal academy shirt.

“You must be Luster.” Said Cashmere.

I nodded.

“I’m Cashmere.” She waved, her lips forming into an inhumanly beautiful smile. She was like what you thought of when someone said ‘the prettiest girl you know’.

“This is Gloss.” She pointed to him and he made no gesture of greeting. He simply stared.

The Peacekeepers that had escorted me were already back in the elevator. I looked around the suite for the first time and noted its distinct Capitol style. The furnishings were modern, with rich golds and deep blacks accenting them. The large dining table was made of frosted glass. A sectional couch took up most of the living room area, its cream colored cushions pristine in the light of a mini chandelier.

“Can I go to bed?” I asked.

Gloss sighed and dropped his arms. It was the first movement he’d made the entire time I’d been there. It was like watching a statue come to life.

“I’ll be your trainer.” He said, ignoring my question.

“Ok great. Can I go to bed now?”

Cashmere looked a bit puzzled. “Do you have any questions for us? I’m sure this has been a difficult transition.”

What a paltry word for what had happened. Transition implied choice, of which I had none.

“I’ll ask them in the morning. I haven’t been to bed and I’d like to get as much sleep as possible.”

Brother and sister stared idly at each other. They appeared to be having some sort of telepathic conversation, much like she’d seen Kellen and Jace do many times. She needed to fall asleep soon or she’d be plagued by memories of home.

The conversation ended when Cashmere motioned with her hand to where the tributes’ rooms were.

“The door on the left.”

The other tribute had already claimed the room on the right. I would be sleeping in the same place Razzle had.

I gave a curt nod and exited, my fists balled at my side. I didn’t relax until the door to my room was closed and I was lying on the very plush, inviting bed.

It seemed the odds were ever in my favor, because no matter how hard I tried, I always seemed to get the short end of a very long stick.

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bluegiragi · 1 year

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konig reminisces with horangi over his short-lived stint as an underground boxer in his teenage years...

more on patreon (plus the nsfw follow-up comic)

bonus:

#so its my headcanon that konig used to fight in a pretty shady underground boxing ring as a teenager #it was his first real opportunity to let some of his feral energy and strength out #he was only there for a year or two before the ring unfairly ousted him #after all its not good for business for one person to stay king for too long #at that point you start hedging your bets #konig got left with nothing by the end of it and he joined up shortly after #and his 'king of the ring' moniker ended up inspiring his operator name later in his life #also yes hello hi horangi #ill be exploring these two together more in the future <3 #im glad to be back with my pathetic cat man #korangi #horangi #konig #cod mw2 #giragi art

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trashratsaws · 1 month

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I’m just trynna break bones in the pit!

#guys……#underground cyberpunk cage fighting ring is like. every single one of my buzzwords in one #Joel’s pre-fight segment did something to my brain.#digital art #hermitcraft fanart #joel smallishbeans #geminitay #artists on tumblr

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luxaofhesperides · 4 months

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Human/Mer AU + Bioluminescent Siren Duke ; requested by @justwannabecat!

The human hadn’t been in his territory recently.

He wasn’t attached or anything, but Duke had started to look forward to seeing him around. It was equal parts exciting and terrifying to be under the curious, watchful eyes of a human who could so easily be dragged down into the depths.

He knows he shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be indulging this human’s curiosity, trying to lure him closer time after time. Holding the attention of any human is dangerous; Duke’s heard the stories plenty of time. He’s seen the damage humans can do even more.

There’s just something different about this human, who never dives too deep, who smiles at him and leaves little gifts in the tide pools tucked away from the rest of the beach, hidden from sight. Or rather, usually hidden from sight, since this human is the only one to go there.

It’s foolish, but Duke actually misses his human.

It’s not the first time he’d been gone for long stretches of time, but something feels off. There’s worry curling up at the base of his throat, making him swim to the surface more frequently. Steph had given him a look when she caught him, but didn’t say a word. She shouldn’t, really, when she’s been sneaking up to the surface for her own human friend, some small, dangerous human with dark hair and hands that speak more than a voice.

He’d seen her, just once, when he had gone up to splash water and his human then swim away.

Somehow, things felt easier back then. Like the horrors of the world couldn’t reach them among those tide pools.

It’s reached them now.

Duke’s not expecting to see his human when he swims up to the surface. He’s expecting another quiet night, an empty beach, a dark sky with only the moon casting its lonely light down onto him.

But when he swims up, his eyes go to a figure on the beach instantly.

Even from this distance, Duke knows: that’s his human.

He doesn’t think before he’s swimming over, pushing himself faster than he’s ever gone before. It’s low tide, so he can’t get as close as he wants and can’t reach most of the tide pools at all, but it gets him close enough. Human and merfolk vocal chords are different; he can speak in water, but can’t make more than a few hums in air, and humans can’t really do anything in water at all.

His human is sitting with his knees tucked into his chest on the beach. He’s hiding in his clothes, a hood pulled over his head, but he looks up when Duke drags himself onto the sand.

Duke can see bruises. Dried blood. A stray tear slipping out of his eyes.

He wants to ask what’s happened? But all that comes out is a low crooning noise.

His human laughs, a quiet, bitter noise that makes Duke’s chest tighten uncomfortably. “Hey,” he rasps in a low voice. “Been a while, hasn’t it? I hope you’ve had a better time than I did.”

Duke can’t reach his human. The distance between them isn’t great, but it’s too much. He’s already partially out of the water, hands sinking into the wet sand just out of reach of the waves, and he can’t get any farther out. He reaches a hand out, silently pleading for his human to come closer.

The move makes his human soften, some of the hard edge of tension in his body melt away. He gets up and walks into the water, then sits down next to Duke, taking his hand.

“I missed you,” he whispers.

If they were underwater, Duke would be able to say I missed you too. Don’t ever go away so long again. But his human is in no shape to go underwater right now, so Duke presses his hand against his lips and hums lightly.

They sit in silence for a moment, and Duke realizes that he’s never been this close to any human before. It doesn’t feel dangerous. It feels like relief, to finally have his human in his reach, safe from the rest of the world.

He gives him human another moment, then reaches out and carefully pushes his hood back. His human allows it, blinking at him slowly. Without the shadow of the hood, Duke can clearly see the bruise coloring his cheekbone and the cuts going down his temple to his jaw. His split lip is still red with blood, and what little of his throat isn’t hidden by his clothes reveals more bruises wrapped around the delicate column of his neck.

Duke ghosts his fingers over each of these injuries, hating how easily humans hurt each other. His human leans into the touch despite how it must hurt, something devastating in his expression.

Who hurt you comes out as a questioning trill. Somehow, it gets the point across.

“It’s alright,” his human says. “Really. I’m not even that hurt. It’s just been a long few months. We never talk much, so you wouldn’t know this, but I have to fight a lot of people. Perils of being a hero, you know?”

Duke knows about heroes. More specifically, he knows about mer heroes. He’s considered being one himself, but the currents shifted and he ended up more a loner, banding with the other rejects of the city to live in the fringes and help only those who wander out too far from the marginally safer waters within.

He hasn’t heard of any human heroes, but then again, he doesn’t know much about humans at all. Nothing beyond the stories all parents tell their children to scare them away from the surface, or the horror stories kids tell each other in the middle of the night when they want to scare each other.

He hums again to let his human know he’s listening. His human has such a nice voice. Why haven’t they done this before?

It’s always been a push and pull between them, carefully keeping their distance but always circling back to each other. Duke would let his human swim with him, and his human would let Duke sit safely on the other side of a tide pool, tossing sea shells back and forth between each other.

They don’t even know each other’s names.

He wishes, just for a moment, that he could go back in time and do things better. But he’s happy here with his human and he doesn’t want to lose this either.

He’ll just have to make the best of what he has. It’s how he’s always lived after his parents disappeared.

“This really isn’t that bad,” his human says, “I’ve taken worse hits before. It’s just that I couldn’t transform before the attack started, so now my human form is bruised too.”

…Human form? The more Duke hears, the more questions he has.

Duke hums at a lower octave, placing a hand over his human’s chest.

His human laughs lightly. “Yeah, I guess we’ve never really talked much about ourselves, did we? I’m human, don’t worry, just not all the time. I… actually, I died a few years ago. But I came back partially. So I’m also half dead still and I can transform into a ghost to fight threats. I’m a hero called Phantom. Actually, Danny Phantom since I was stupid enough to just give out my first name when I started out. In my defense, my brain was still a little fried.”

There is so much he wants to say to that. He tries, and makes a series of low hums and clicks in the back of his throat, staring at Danny (he finally got his human’s name!) incredulously.

“I promise I’m fine,” Danny continues. “It was just a bit rough. As soon as I get some time to recover, I’ll be good as new! And I really did miss you, you know. Didn’t even go home first, just come straight here.”

That’s honestly really sweet. Duke hums again, a lighter pitch, and takes hold of Danny’s wrist and tugs him towards deeper waters.

“What? You want me to go in?”

Duke nods, already shuffling his way back out of the sand.

He expects to look awkward during the process. What he most definitely doesn’t expect is for Danny to easily pick him up and walk them both into the ocean.

Listen. Duke is not a small mer. He’s big. He’s got a long, heavy tail and wide fins going down his back, his forearms, and the sides of his tail. It’s a struggle for him to fit into seaweed nests with his friends during the colder seasons, often left to balance on the edge with his tail hanging out. His friends struggle to pull him through the water with his weight. His parents weren’t able to hold him much after he started growing.

None of this matters to Danny, who acts as if Duke weights nothing at all.

To his great embarrassment, his fins flare in appreciation for Danny’s strength. He was not expecting a human to be so strong, but Duke’s not about to lie to himself and say it’s not attractive.

He trills to Danny, who laughs again, then falls into the water, taking them both under.

Duke doesn’t hesitate. He grabs hold of Danny and swims them further out. He stays close to the surface so Danny can rise for air as needed, but he makes no move to leave Duke’s side even after a few minutes.

He glances back, concerned, when he sees that Danny is watching him with dark eyes, not breathing at all despite being conscious.

Danny holds up a finger and closes his eyes. Two rings of light appear around his waist, then split apart and pass over his body. Instantly, Danny’s body becomes lighter, as if Duke’s hand is grasping at a current on the seabed. His hair turns white and his eyes glow from how bright of a green they are, but there’s something inhuman about his features now, something that makes him look different beyond just physical features.

Well. Danny did say he could transform.

Now that they’re underwater, Duke can finally speak. The first thing he asks is, “What was that?”

Danny grins at him. “That,” he says, speaking with ease as if he’s not underwater at all, “was my transformation. And this is my ghost form. Quite the look, isn’t it?”

“You can talk down here?! Also, hi, my name’s Duke. Since I never introduced myself.”

“Ghosts can do a lot of things,” Danny answers with a cheeky grin. “It’s nice to finally know your name. I’ve been calling you glowfish in my head this whole time.”

“Glowfish?”

“Yeah. Because you, you know,” Danny gestures vaguely at him, “Glow.”

Duke glances down at his back fins, which are indeed glowing. They flare a bit from embarrassment, which just makes the dots of light lining the fins more visible. He doesn’t glow a lot, keeping a tight hold of that ability, but sometimes it comes out anyways when he’s feeling especially happy.

And apparently, he’s always very happy around Danny.

It’s a good thing Danny doesn’t know what that means, because if anyone of his friends found out, they’d laugh at how obvious he’s being. Drawbacks of being somewhat bioluminescent: anyone familiar with mers who have this feature know exactly what the glow means.

“Right,” he says just a beat too late. “Well, now that we know each other’s names, can you tell me how you really feel? Those injuries didn’t look too good.”

“It’s fine, really! I take harder hits all the time.”

“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”

Danny doesn’t answer for a long moment, then sighs. “Yeah. It still hurts.”

“Stay with me for tonight,” he says. “You’ll be safe. You can rest and heal and I’ll keep you safe from anything that comes looking for you.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to.”

Danny doesn’t put up much of a fight. He must be exhausted. “Yeah, alright. Take me away, Duke. You know, this is like those stories about sirens luring sailors down into the depths.”

“Well, I am a siren.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah. I take after my mom. She’s the one who taught me how to sing.”

“I guess it’s a good thing we’re friends so I don’t have to worry about being dragged down to my watery death.”

Duke snorts. “Good thing you’re already a ghost then. Not much I can do to you down here.”

He swims down, heading towards a small cavern in a sea rock that he’s claimed as his own, leading Danny into it. The light from his fins illuminates the entrance and the rocks within, a narrow passage that goes in for a few meters before opening up into a larger space full of carefully tended to seaweed and starfish decorating the walls.

There’s a nook tucked away in the back wall where he’s set up a seaweed bed, the plant braided together into something more solid. It’s big enough to fit his tail, which means it’s big enough for him and Danny.

“Here,” he says, helping Danny down. “Get some sleep. Then you can tell me about what happened in the morning and we’ll take it from there.”

“I’m glad you’re here Duke,” Danny whispers, curling up on his side. He holds Duke’s hand, twining their fingers together, and it’s as nice as it is strange to feel how cold Danny is in this form when he was so warm as a human.

“I’ll always be here for you. You just need to come back to me.”

Danny hums, but doesn’t answer. It’s alright; Duke’s used to his loved ones leaving. He knows he can’t make them stay. All he can do is hope they return one day.

It’s been a long time since he’s had anyone in his home. There’s a communal cave where his friends stay that he visits when he gets lonely, but this place used to be for his family. Now it’s just him.

Him and Danny.

The last time there was song in these walls, his mother was still around, singing him lullabies.

Looking down at Danny, curled up and so strangely fragile looking, Duke feels the song build up in his chest. It slips out in low, soft notes, an old melody passed down through generations of their family.

He sings Danny to sleep.

He sings and sings and sings until all his nightmares are soothed and dawn is almost upon them.

It’s all he can do, so Duke sings and hopes it’s enough to keep Danny close to him for just a little longer.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic #prompt fill #my writing #once again hit by the need to go crazy with worldbuilding #hitting myself w a broom while writing this like KEEP IT SHORT. KEEP IT SHORT!!#this could so easily be 20k+.....#the worldbuilding.... i have Thoughts on mer society and underwater gotham and human/mer differences and so much more #duke's parents were captured by a human (the joker) to use in a fucked up traveling aquarium #danny's still a halfa and a hero but he's not w his parents. they're good parents they just fought the gov for his sake and got arrested #so he's w vlad in a coastal city while jazz is in college #other heroes are still around on land and are not mers so villains are still up there too. and danny had to fight them hence his injuries #he actually got captured a bit and taken to some evil underground gladiator ring he had to fight his way out of mostly in ghost form but #also as a human. and the whole time he just thought abt the only friend he has in this new city which is duke. a mer he visits when he can #there is just SO much i want to write for this but i have to hold myself back....#this whole asking for prompts thing is to make myself writing shorter things... keep fics brief... not 10k+....#anyways. thanks for the prompt!!#i went straight for the hurt/comfort lol

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cryptid-crow13 · 6 months

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underground fighter

I have this idea and I can't get it out of my head so I am throwing it to the dpxdc tumblr wild.

Danny took a deep breath as he wrapped his left hand. He wrinkled his nose at the blood and grime he smelled over the cigarette smoke and alcohol. He ignored how his hand shook as he secured the end around his wrist. He heard the noise outside the room die down a bit and hopped up from the bench.

Danny ran himself through a few warmups before he heard the noise outside pick back up with an announcement.

"Tonight we have everyone's favorite, Wraith!"

People yelled out their bets and cheered when Danny stepped out into the cage. He blew out a slow breath and watched as the people in the seats above shivered. He kept a carefully blank expression even under the gaiter mask.

When Wraith stepped into his end of the cage he rolled his shoulders back and stared down his first opponent for the night.

#feel free to continue and/or use this btw!#i'll keep this idea on the back burner for a future fic #but its just this little worm that won't stop bothering me while i'm trying to write my current fic #do i know why danny is in an underground fighting ring? no #do i think there's so many possibilities for why and how that its driving me crazy? yes #underground meta fighting ring where danny sticks to his cryokinesis tho? yes please #dpxdc #dpxdc prompt #underground fighter danny #rogue danny #ig #maybe #cryptid crow caws

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nerdpoe · 8 days

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Rok Soo, his entire life, never gained a single scar no matter how serious the injury was.

He didn't realize that all of his scars were going to what was going to be his future body until he woke up as Cale Henituse.

#tcf #lcf #trash of the count's family #lout of the count's family #tcf au #lcf au #story prompt #instead of causing misunderstandings as he entered Cale's life #they were already rampant #and he has no idea how to dispute them or explain anything #because he has no idea how to say “oh yeah these are from before i was in this body”#that sounds insane #anyways with the sheer amount of scars Cale's body has #general consensus is that cale henituse is a thug #and also a member of an underground fighting ring #some rumors that he's a pirate #all rumors that cale despises with every bone in his body

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moonlight-stalker · 10 months

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# 45 dc x dp

The bats break up a fighting ring that used enchanted animals and regular animals they were not expecting to find a meta child Bruce takes him in

Vlads has been panicking because he could not find Danny anywhere

#My post #dpxdc #dcxdp prompt #dc x dp #dcxdp #dpxdc prompt #Bio dad Vlad #Good Vlad #Vlad is king until Danny comes of age #Vlad loses track of Danny #He's panicking #When he finds out some meta traffickers caught him #With some animals #And put in an underground fighting ring #He was not happy #And some billionaire bought him #Bruce did not buy Danny he did everything legally

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royaltea000 · 5 months

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Redraw of human Barf and Belch!

#Cuz I fucking HATED the old one 😭#man I wish we got more zippleback content in rtte #like all the other dragons get their episodes and we got like maybe one of B&B 😔#the one where the twins were fighting over them #but like I feel like they’d be such interesting characters to get to know :(#justice for my bois Barf and Belch #I really loved their creepy unsafe looks from httyd 1 #they were so dangerous and sly looking I wish they kept that throughout the whole series #so I modeled my designs off that kinda feel #in my human design au the dragons are part of an underground fight ring #I dunno why everything associated with the twins in modern au have to 2010s punk emo to me it just works #digital art #my art #artists on tumblr #digital illustration #procreate #httyd fanart #barf and belch #how to train your dragon #httyd 1 #httyd #httyd 2 #httyd modern au #httyd human au #human dragons au #race to the edge #httyd rtte

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fallen-goldfishcracker · 2 years

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someday, we, as a fandom, are going to accept that Matthias is an extremely deep and thoughtful character who, after reevaluating his entire life values and beliefs, manages to come to profound conclusions that doesn’t obliterate his devotion to his god but instead strengthens his purpose in life and his beliefs about his religion and can see deep, personal difficulties in the people around him and isn't afraid to comment on it, (eg, calling jesper angry and frightened), but whatever fanon can just make his big blond and dumb its finnne

#for a disclamer. as an intensely wesper #person i have not read a great amount of helnik #but i feel like the fanon doesnt acknowledge the depth of his personality #he's so poetic too #not to suggest that he's not an idiot #hes an absolute himbo #but he also has a whole nother side to him #matthias helvar #soc #six of crows #leigh bardugo #part 1 of my how fanon is screwing up #its just me fighting fanon in a sketchy underground ring with nothing but my wit(s) and a carrot to help #wylan's part is just a page of screaming hahaha #im not actually doing a series #but Someone should #the crows

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feroluce · 11 hours

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Connecting dots tonight (didn't connect shit, I've connected them, etc) because of this post about item descriptions to do with Sampo I saw a few days ago and! I feel like there are so many interesting things that could be implied from this!! Because the recipe for the High-Tech Protective Gear is given to you by Bronya (before the IPC invaded Belobog!), who says this little interesting tidbit about it:

This is an item from before the Eternal Freeze, 700 years ago. Even to the rest of the universe, it would be SORELY outdated. It cannot be made in Belobog anymore due to the loss of entire eras. It is effectively useless; this recipe had to be somewhere gathering dust, kept around solely for archival purposes. There is no reason for Sampo to know about this item or have any idea how it works and yet. AND YET. He's just running around selling knock offs!!

He shouldn't even know how to make these, but the fact that he does means Sampo either

had the blueprints from off-world before he came to Belobog (most likely but also most boring answer)

broke into Qlipoth Fort and copied down the blueprints (completely plausible - he's possibly shown doing exactly that in his splash art)

found another copy out in the ruins of the old world (also completely plausible - Sampo is astoundingly resilient against both the Fragmentum and the cold, as noted by Lynx haha)

Meanwhile, the Inferior Protective Gear recipe comes from an NPC in the underground, and when she gives it to you, she talks about building robots and the robot fighting scene sorry about the quality I didn't have screenshots for her dialogue so I had to use wiki

Which makes me feel like it's safe to say that the inferior gear is mostly being used in the underground, especially by the vagrants and their robots for fights, because...well, who else would use it? Cocolia has made it illegal to explore too far into the Snow Plains, and besides, it's way too dangerous for most civilians even WITH gear. The Silvermane Guards are funded by official sources, they have no reason to rely on Sampo for armor. So it makes sense for an underground mechanic to know the recipe; there's probably not as much market for it up in the overworld.

And if you look at the descriptions, you can see why this probably wasn't something that could be made in Belobog anymore; it requires a charging system of some sort.

We know it's not a problem with the basic materials because all three ingredients can be found right in the administrative district. But the underground only has two of them; somehow, despite being in the planet's crust, and literally crawling with robots...there is no metal down there. It isn't found anywhere, sold by anyone, or dropped by anything. And metal just so happens to be the one ingredient Sampo replaces in his knock off version.

The Inferior Gear uses trash instead, something which, going by the words of that same mechanic, is MORE than abundant in the underground- any good quality parts are extremely difficult to come by down there.

Anyway, all his shadiness aside, I love the implication that Sampo is smart enough to be able to take this item that no one else on the planet probably knows anything about, and was able to figure out what he could replace, and how, and with what, in order to make it easily accessible to the people of the underground, even without access to overworld resources. Because his version DOES work! It literally gives you the exact same amount of defense boost as the IPC one!

Someone should absolutely still knock him around for it, though, world's most slappable face fr fjkdsjfdkjafk

#hsr sampo #hsr sampo koski #sampo koski #honkai star rail #hsr #belobog #he's such a slimeball fjklsdajfkld #I feel like there is something to be said though about the fact that if anyone in the underground is buying this shit armor off Sampo like.#it's either his armor or it's nothing. the overworld isn't exactly sending them a lot of protective gear.#And I'm sure they'd rather have cheap armor they can make and afford themselves than nothing at all.#I wonder if Wildfire would be one of his customers for this stuff or not?#like I think Sampo would be a lot more upfront with them if they were- he's not stupid enough to bite the hand that feeds him.#And Natasha is probably his most important client. We already know Sampo smuggles weapons and is her arms dealer.#It's canon that he brought Seele her scythe-#-and I wonder if it's coincidence that Natasha uses a giant weapon that looks similar to the Silvermane hand canons.#I could totally see Sampo trying to sell his armor to ring fighters to fix the matches in his favor though FJKDLSJAFDKLJ #we already know he bets on the fight club from his About Luka line and his dialogue from the Cyrille the Fool quests #so I'm sure he'd be gambling on the robot fights out by Svarog's encampment too haha #do you think they have penny bets for the kids for that kind of fight #crying imagining Hook tagging along and betting single credits on the fights alongside Sampo's much heftier bets #she still wins more than he does JKLDJSKLAJDS

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