#I have a whole backstory now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luxaofhesperides · 1 month

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Ghostlight prompt: Danny and Duke being childhood friends, but Danny tells Duke the moment the accident happens and such cause he trusts him, only for Danny to go radio silent when giw decide to block the town communications in senior year.

So Duke-does he tell Danny he's Signal or not? Up to you-gets worried the longer no contact goes by.

Maybe the away game thing seen in other posts where the sports team still does away games and Danny gets enough good will with star or dash maybe and they send a message to Duke that's some coded phrase and Duke knows shits going down?

(yourlocalcorviddad, it's a side blog so didn't want to send from main sorry)

Danny is not someone who is on his mind a lot, these days. It’s to be expected, considering how distance and their double lives eat up all the time they have to talk. Really, it’s a miracle that they were able to speak enough to learn about their own individual vigilante work, especially with Duke bouncing around foster homes for a good portion of that time.

They haven’t spoke in months but that’s normal for them.

Duke thinks he can be forgiven for not knowing something was wrong. He still won’t forgive himself for it.

“Danny’s gone?” he repeats, feeling numb. There’s static ringing in his ears, his entire world hollowing out.

The guy in front of him looks grim, unable to meet Duke’s eyes. Did he introduce himself? Duke can’t remember, can’t keep his spiraling thoughts straight in his head. “He’s gone. His entire family is gone and we haven’t been able to call for help because… well…”

“It’s those guys, right? The ones in white?”

“You know about them?”

“Danny told me. Danny told me a lot about what he did in Amity Park.”

The guy lets out a slow, relieved breath. “Good, then I don’t have to explain. Sorry, it’s just that it’s not something we talk about, especially out in the open. After the last few months, things got really bad. We know the GIW took the Fentons, but we can’t find out how or why and they’ve got us on a tight lockdown.”

“Then how did you get out?” Duke asks. Another arguably more important question pops into his mind a second later. “Actually, how do you know about Danny and… you know. The other things.”

The grimness on the guy’s expression fades away some beneath the sudden shame and embarrassment. “Oh, that. Well, I dunno how much he told you about his, like, daily life, but, um. I’m Dash. Baxter. I bullied him?”

Dash.

Dash. That’s a name he recognizes.

Danny’s complained about Dash a lot in the past. Since they were in middle school, really. Duke would always get mad on Danny’s behalf about how terribly he’s being treated, how no one would stop such obvious bullying. And every time, Danny would laugh it off and say in that soft voice of his, It’s alright, Duke, really. Having you care is more than enough for me.

It never stopped the bullying, though, but the way Danny talked about Dash changed when they both entered high school. He was still annoyed about everything Dash did, but there were less insults about him, less venting about every little thing that pissed Danny off about him, as if he just didn’t care anymore.

And there is, of course, the most memorable time Danny called Duke about Dash over the summer.

Hey, Danny, Duke had began, only to be cut off by Danny yelling, I kissed Dash?! Or he kissed me?! What am I supposed to do now!

And Duke, despite the jealousy he felt at hearing that Danny and Dash kissed, laughed so hard he cried while Danny yelled at him to be helpful.

There wasn’t any discussion on Dash since, beyond a comment here and there about a funny fanboying thing Dash had said about Phantom. The focus of their conversations shifted towards how hard it was to be heroes or vigilantes, quiet reassurances that they’re both doing the best they can, tips traded about best ways to patch themselves up and get through the night. Sometimes, it felt like Danny was the only person in the world to really know Duke; all his pain and promises, his dreams, everything he was Before and who he became in the After.

He’s missed Danny, but the last message Danny sent him told him that things were getting rough in Amity Park, and to not call or contact him until he reached out first.

So Duke trusted in Danny and focused his attention in Gotham, putting his all into becoming a better hero, someone people can rely on.

He thinks that maybe he should have fallen into the Bats’ bad habits of invading privacy to make sure Danny’s okay.

Too late for that now, though.

“I know you,” Duke says after a long moment. “He talked about you sometimes. Come with me, we have a lot to discuss.”

Dash looks appropriately nervous, but he doesn’t argue.

It’s a tense, quiet walk to the library where Barbara works. She’s stationed at the front desk when he arrives and greets him with a smile, eyes flicking towards Dash in question.

“Hey, Babs, got a private study room open?”

Her gaze sharpens and Duke can’t help the feeling of relief that flows through him, knowing that Oracle is ready to look out for him. “Let me check,” she says, turning towards the computer to click around a few pages. “Study room 8 is open.”

That’s the study room with a working lock and soundproofing. It also has cameras and a mic inside, but all the other study rooms have one too, just for safety purposes. Things could always go terribly wrong when people are locked together in a small room, and having video and audio evidence of what happened has assisted in more than a few cases.

He leads them up to the second floor, past the students studying and the group of young children in the back corner of the library listening intently to a read aloud.

The only occupied study rooms are those up front, closer to the stairs. The back rooms are empty and quiet, the perfect place for a little impromptu interrogation.

“So,” Duke says as he closes the door to study room 8 behind them. Dash sits down as if this is just a casual conversation, but the way his foot taps against the floor betrays his nerves. “Danny’s gone. And somehow, that lead you to me.”

Dash glance around, then leans closer to drop his voice into a harsh whisper. “The Guys In White got some insane upgrades a few months ago and forced every citizen of Amity Park into a surveillance state. The entire Fenton family is gone, but we all know it’s really because they want Danny.”

“Explain the situation in Amity Park some more.”

“Well. It’s like this: we didn’t take them seriously, so they upped their moves and got us trapped. No one goes in or out of Amity Park without good, verifiable reason. We have a curfew and we can be randomly stopped and searched for ectoplasm or exposure to ghosts. Most of the ghosts have left, but a few of the stronger ones hang around to cause trouble to get the GIW off our backs for a bit.”

“So how did you end up in Gotham?”

“I was invited to tour the college. And since outsiders were expecting me, the GIW let me go. But there’s definitely some that tailed me to Gotham, but I can’t find them at all. Even talking to you now is a huge risk for me.”

Which means they don’t have much time to talk before someone comes looking for Dash. His words, paired with everything Duke’s heard from Danny, paint a deeply unpleasant picture in his mind. “Are you going to be in trouble?”

“Nah, I’ll be fine. It’s Danny we’re all worried about. He told me before he got caught that if anything happened to him, I should find you. Tucker helped us narrow down where exactly you are and sent you that text to get you to where we met.”

“What do you think I can do?”

“I don’t know,” Dash admits. “But Danny trusts you, and he needs your help.”

Duke was never going to say no to this request to begin with, but damn if those words don’t make him want to run to Amity Park without waiting for anyone else.

“Okay,” he says. “Okay. I’ll help rescue him and bring down the GIW. You should go now, before they get too suspicious.”

“What are you planning?”

“I got a couple of friends who are good at destroying government property. Trust me, you’ll see what we’re up, we’re pretty noticeable if we’re pissed off enough.”

“Don’t take too long then,” Dash says, standing up, “I expect a good show from you. See you around, man.”

And with that, Dash pats Duke’s shoulder and leaves the study room. Duke doesn’t follow after him. He’s got a rescue to start planning, and the less time he wastes, the better.

In the end, it’s pretty simple. It’s not a hard mission at all when the time comes for them to act, but the amount of data they gather and have to shift through is daunting. But that’s more Tim and Barbara’s forte, so he trusts them to handle it.

Together with Red Robin, Spoiler, and Black Bat, they hit Amity Park hard and fast.

One night was spent learning the lay of the land and every station and lab set up by the GIW. The second night was spent burning it all down and tossing open cages full of green blob ghosts and a few transparent, weakly glowing human ghosts. Stronger ghosts, glowing brightly, joined them in a few places with battle cries and maniacal laughter.

They split up and took down all the bases and patrol stations on their own, sweeping through the city like vengeful shadows.

By dawn, the GIW were in shambles, without any bases or equipment, and rounded up for arrest.

Cass was the one to find Danny and his family; his parents were forced to create weapons for the GIW under threat of Danny and Jazz’s torture. Danny was locked up like an animal and studied. Jazz had restraints on, including a muzzle, and a bloodthirsty rage in her eyes. Apparently, she had put up the most fight and, while being studied for repeated exposure to ectoplasm and radiation, started biting people.

The Fentons are big names in this conflict. Tim makes the executive decision to burn one of his out-of-state safehouses so they can hide and recover in peace, then promptly moves them into it as soon as the EMTs give them the all clear. They’re gone by the time the sun is rising over the horizon, and the curious Amity Parkers that have gathered behind the blockade of police cars have to be reassured that the Fentons have been taken away for their protection, not for further abuses. Even then, tensions are high and the locals are clearly prepared to start rioting now that they have a chance to fight back.

As vigilantes, they’re not meant to interact with cops much. Perhaps it’s simply their experiences in Gotham that keep them at a distance, disappearing into the neighborhood the moment attention shifts off of them. Either way, Duke is hurrying out of Amity Park with the rest of the team on his heels, eager to return to Gotham and follow up on their own leads to make sure the GIW is properly gutted and dismantled.

Duke heads off for the Hatch as soon as they reach Gotham, hoping to shed the suit and finally be able to call Danny. The guilt of not noticing how bad things had gotten rolls through his stomach, and more than that, he’s missed hearing Danny’s voice.

The first few calls go straight to voicemail. Duke leaves a quick message asking Danny to let him know how he’s doing as soon as he can talk.

Then he goes for a shower and to change into civilian clothes, prepared to make his way to Wayne Manor to let Bruce know how everything went. And hopefully distract him from his Disappointed Father/Leader Lecture about taking on missions behind his back, as if Duke can’t handle himself. And also because Bruce has no leg to stand on when it comes to this. He’s fully prepared to throw that entire lecture back into his face at a moment’s notice.

The post-mission exhaustion is hitting him hard and fast. Duke has to brace himself against the wall once he’s out of the shower, resisting the urge to just lie on the floor and sleep there until he starts feeling more human.

Somehow, he gets himself into some sweatpants and a plain shirt, pulls on a pair of mismatched socks, and begins gathering his things so he can get to the Batcave.

He’s in no state to be driving. Maybe someone would be willing to take him there?

Just as he reaches for his phone to thumb through his contacts and see who he can bother, it buzzes in his hand. Duke blames the way he jumps on his exhaustion, then blinks his tired eyes to squint at the name that pops up onto the screen.

Danny.

All at once, his exhaustion fades away. A rush of adrenaline runs through him as he scrambles to accept the call, already pacing around the room so he doesn’t fall asleep.

“Hello?”

There’s a moment of silence, then the exhale of a breath that turns to static over the call. “Duke,” Danny’s tired voice says. “Duke…”

“You doing okay? I couldn’t get to you before you and your family had to leave and go into hiding, but I’ve been worried about you, man.”

“I’m good. We’re all fine, now. Fentons are strong, you know? We’ll bounce back in no time.”

From what he’s heard about Danny’s family, that’s most definitely true. He’s seen the pictures of walls Jack Fenton has burst through with his body. It’ still hard to believe that no one in the family is a meta, outside of Danny.

“You need anything? I can get it to you, just say the word. Anything at all.”

Danny hums, then asks with a playful note in his voice, “Anything?”

“Anything.”

“I need you. How fast can you come meet me? I’ll even pay for express delivery.”

Duke laughs, so relieved at hearing the lightness return to Danny’s voice that he feels weak in the knees. “It’ll be at least two days. I gotta sleep and debrief with Batman before I can see you. It’s gonna take some time to get out of Gotham again.”

“Maybe I can go to you, instead,” Danny suggests. “Fly over and be there is less than an hour.”

“Are you in any shape to be flying right now?”

“I’m fine! Already healing and everything,” Danny insists.

“It might be dangerous if any rogue GIW agents go after you.”

“Well,” Danny says, “That’s why I need to get to my knight in shining armor sooner rather than later, right?”

Duke bites his lip to fight back a smile, blinking his eyes forcefully to keep them from closing under the heavy weight of exhaustion. “Does that make you a damsel in distress?”

“I mean, I did need rescuing, so I guess? I’m not much of a damsel, but I could put on a pretty dress for you. It’ll be like playing pretend when we were kids.”

“Oh, man, I kinda miss those poofy dresses. I think I could still rock on, put it on top of the armor when I go out for patrol.”

Danny snickers. “Signal: the most well dressed vigilante in Gotham.”

“That’s me, baby!”

The last of the agonizing fear that’s choked him since he first talked to Dash finally melts away. Danny’s fine now. Everything’s okay; the GIW are done for and there’s plenty of people willing to look out for the Fentons. This will never happen again.

“Hey,” Danny says, voice suddenly turing more serious. “Send me your location. I wasn’t joking when I said I could fly over to you. And before you say anything! I do need it; Jazz and my parents are smothering me and I just need to get away from everything and pretend all of this never happened.”

The admission softens Duke, makes him shove away everything that tells him this is a bad idea, that Danny needs more rest first, that having Danny fly over alone and without warning any of the Bats fills Duke with anxiety.

He does miss Danny. More than he can put into words.

“Yeah, okay,” he says at last. “Come meet me, Danny.”

He texts Danny the location of the Hatch before common sense tells him to be more careful with his base of operations. Not that it matters, anyways; if there’s anyone in the world he trusts with everything, it’s Danny.

Then he sends the Bats a quick text saying he’s crashing in the Hatch and to not bother him until the sun is fully up two days from now. Oracle gives him a thumbs up emoji, which is a good guarantee that she will personally see to it that no non-emergency messages interrupt his rest and recovery time.

Duke has no idea how long it will take Danny to get to the Hatch, so he putters around, cleaning up the space and straightening it out in an attempt to keep busy enough that he doesn’t crash. Travel really takes it out of him. It’s one of the cons of being born and raised in Gotham: he doesn’t have the stamina to travel outside of it, especially when they were there and back in less than three days.

Thank god for Tim’s many motorcycles and his tendency to see the speed limit as a weak suggestion that can be ignored while on a mission.

Ultimately, the call of sleep is too strong to resist.

One moment, Duke is sorting through files on the Hatch’s computer, and the next moment, he’s face down on a bed with his face shoved into a pillow.

Blearly, he manages to pull his phone out of his pocket and send Danny a typo-ridden text that hopefully gets across the message of might be asleep so just come in, don’t wait for me to answer the door.

He’s out like a light as soon as it sends. The last thing Duke registers is his phone dropping out of his hand and falling against the mattress with a little bounce.

When he begins to wake up, something’s changed. As much as he wants to go back to sleep, awareness comes back to him slowly and Duke forces himself to claw his way out of unconsciousness to figure out what, exactly, is bothering him so much. Until he figures out what’s changed in the room, he won’t be able to sleep because he’ll be worried about someone breaking in.

His mind comes back online long before his body does. It’s only when he tries to move that Duke realizes he’s no longer alone on the bed; there’s someone wrapped up in his arms, body temperature a little too cool to be a normal human.

Blinking open his eyes, Duke looks down at the head of messy black hair and feels Danny’s soft breath ghost across his chest.

“Danny?” he manages to say, voice rough with sleep.

Danny hums and doesn’t move.

“Hey, look up. Let me see if you’re really alright.”

“Mmm, no,” Danny mumbles, burrowing his face into Duke’s chest some more. “‘m sleepy.”

A good argument. Duke is also sleepy.

“Fine,” he says, “Check in the morning, then. G’night, Danny.”

“Night, Duke. Thanks for saving me.”

He tightens his grip on Danny, contentment burning warm in his chest. “Always, Danny. I’ll always save you.”

That’s why he’s a hero, after all. To save others, to reach a hand out to everyone the way he needed when he was younger. To keep the people he loves safe. To make sure Danny always finds a way back to him.

This is what makes all the pain of this lifestyle worth it.

Danny makes everything worth it.

(@yourlocalcorviddad tagging to make sure you see this!)

#ghostlights #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #prompt fill #my writing #i thought up a whole backstory to the duke/dash kiss (accidental. embarrassing for both parties) but it didnt fit w the rest of the fic so #its not included. i can include it in a rb if u want tho!!#my sleepy boys..... they go thru so much but at the end of the day they always feel at home with each other #childhood friends duke/danny is so important to me #also couldnt think of a coded phrase sorry. now we just have dash walking up to duke like HEY. HELP DANNY. and duke went with it #thanks for the prompt!!

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legobiwan · 5 months

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More SM: RPG/SPM nonsense

The Bleck crew and Mario RPG gang are having a scuffle before they figure they're not on opposite sides (at least not to start with) - this takes place during the events of SM:RPG. The Bleck crew is looking for Culex (see THIS post for more information). The Mario gang's objectives remain the same - defeat Smithy - except that Luigi is along for the ride.

Luigi is creeping up on Dimentio on the far edge of this whole little confrontation as Dimentio, characteristically, is floating above the ground, noshing on his invisible tub of popcorn

Now, let’s assume Luigi is hot off his first ghost mission with E. Gadd and has specters-on-the-brain, meaning he associates floating beings with no visible means of lift (remember, the man is an engineer) with ghosts

But! Even better! The Poltergust (at least in its first iteration) has a subfunction in the strobe setting that illuminates the “heartbeat” of any ghost or undead being

And Luigi swears he sees the shadow of a heartbeat emanating from Dimentio’s chest and tries to suck Dimentio into the Poltergust

Of course, Dimentio is having none of this and snaps his fingers, trapping Luigi in a box (oh, the foreshadowing!)

Luigi panics, banging on the box walls, calling for his brother

“What an interesting little machine you have there,” Dimentio purrs, sauntering over to the wall of the translucent prison. “And who might you be, my quivering friend?”

Luigi only answers by yelling for his brother again ("Maario!! Help!")

Meanwhile, the fighting between the others has come to an uneasy truce, that is, until Mario sees Luigi trapped in a box.

“What did you do to my brother?” Mario yells, reaching into his sidebag for his last-ditch fright bomb. O’Chunks manages to catch this out of the corner of his eye, picking up Mario by the collar as he sprints forward.

“Where do ya think you’re goin, laddie?” O’Chunks asks, Mario dangling from his grip. In a fair fight, Mario would have a chance, but he’s sore, tired, and injured.

“Let my brother go, you clown!”

Dimentio puts his hand to his chest with a dramatic movement (of course he does, bastard man). “Such grievous insult delivered by such a small form. Ah, but your cheeks grow as rosy as your cherry-hued outfit, your flailing like that of a blindfolded octopus, lost in a labyrinthine tangle of seaweed.”

At this point, Mallow’s jaw drops open as he stares at Dimentio, utterly confused. “What?” is all he can muster.

Behind Dimentio comes the click-click of a weapon engaging. A moment later, two wooden fingers appear at Dimentio’s temple. “The man said to let his brother go,” Geno says, deadly serious.

Dimentio pauses, then laughs, turning to greet a stone-faced Geno with a wide smile. Geno makes no movement except to motion with his hand towards a terrified and still-trapped Luigi.

“Very well.” Dimentio responds, smiling, giving a lazy snap of his fingers, the box dissolving into nothing.

Luigi is trembling, gripping onto the Poltergust for dear life. Mario, of course, comes rushing over, asking his brother if he’s alright, checking him for injuries, muttering how he should never have brought his brother on this trip and basically mother henning him to death

This out of the way, the groups make their preliminary, if wary, introductions

After Mario is distracted by something else, Dimentio sidles up to Luigi. “My most sincere apologies for my earlier actions. I did not mean to frighten you so.”

Geno is definitely watching from behind the bushes, creeping towards them as he DOES NOT trust Dimentio one iota

Luigi laughs nervously, telling Dimentio it’s fine (even though it most certainly wasn’t fine).

“I must ask, however,” Dimentio continues after a drawn-out, awkward silence (a silence Dimentio definitely was enjoying), “what you intent was with your…” Dimentio tilts his head in curiosity. “Vacuum device?”

Luigi hiccups. “Yeah, this. Well…it catches ghosts.”

Dimentio is surprised. Now Geno is lurking about a foot away from both of them. “Ghosts!” Dimentio exclaims. “Have you reason to carry such a machine with you at all times? Are the undead that common in this world?”

Luigi frowns. “No. Well, actually, yes. I mean, not here - not so far, at least. But…I have. In the past.”

Dimentio studies Luigi intently. “And you believed I was a paranormal presence. Thus the somewhat half-hearted attempt at reducing me to a bit of shag carpet.”

“You were floating,” Luigi shrugs.

“And that is the sole qualification to be a ghost? I dare say the undead have certainly loosened their requirements in recent years if that is the case.”

Now Geno is at Luigi’s side. Dimentio spares a brief, neutral look in his direction.

“That and I could kind of see your heartbeat,” Luigi mumbles, staring at the ground, embarrassed.

And now Dimentio is truly taken aback. “My…heartbeat?”

“Yeah. The Poltergust,” Luigi holds up the nozzle, “I mean, this machine. It’s…it’s a long, technical explanation. But there’s a function in it where it exposes the “heart” of a ghost, some kind of dark matter gravitational lensing.” Sees both Dimentio and Geno staring at him with a blank, confused expression. “Anyway, it’s not really a heart, of course, not the way we think of it. More like…a ghost’s connection to the living plane? In as much as they have the ability to take on a distinct form and manipulate matter.”

“Stardust recomposed into half matter,” Geno murmurs, looking disturbed by this information. “And when you’ve taken your captive, what then?”

“Depends,” Luigi answers. “The Professor - uh, the man who gave me this - has a container he uses to study the more dangerous specimens. Others he’s pressed into artwork. A kind of memorial.” Luigi looks off to the side. “Or prison,” he finishes, lamely.

“Wishes ripped from the fabric of the cosmos,” Geno says to himself, looking a bit ill.

“Does this machine illuminate all beings or just the dead?”

Luigi shakes his head. “Only ghosts. And I guess other undead or half-undead things. I haven’t really tried it out on anything else.”

“Hm,” Dimentio hums. “May I ask you to point your contraption in my direction again? Without, of course, the vacuum function.”

Luigi scrunches his face in confusion but does as he’s told. A moment later, hovering over Dimentio’s chest is the half image of a deep violet heart. Luigi's eyes go wide. “Are you dead?”

Dimentio gives a false smile and a bow. “No, only a magician. Master of dimensions and pleaser of crowds.”

“But,” Luigi protests, but before he can get the thought out, Dimentio lifts a hand, Luigi stiffening, Geno readying his finger guns. But all Dimentio does is give a tiny flick of his fingers, deactivating the Poltergust.

“And now? What do you see?”

Luigi stares hard at Dimentio’s chest, his jaw locking in place. His eyes go moon-wide, his gaze fixated on an invisible target above where the jester’s heart would lie.

“N- nothing,” Luigi finally grits, his voice breaking. “I don’t see..I have to go.” And Luigi skitters away, terrified because he absolutely saw something, the exact same thing he saw when the Poltergust was on and he doesn’t want to consider the implications of that.

Dimentio and Geno are no fools and know the man is lying. There’s something off about Luigi. Dimentio, of course, is thinking in terms of the Chaos Heart, weaving plans upon plans. Geno is disturbed by what dark magics could be at work, not only with the Poltergust, but with this seemingly innocuous man. A man who is his friend’s - his best friend’s, if he were allowed to have something like that - brother.

“You’re not dead.” Geno finally addresses Dimentio. “But nor are you fully alive.”

Dimentio just smiles, floating upwards. “Nor are you.” Geno stiffens at that, but Dimentio just waves, “Ciao, my little wooden friend.”

#this is insane and i love it but i will NOT commit to writing another story until i've finished what i hav going on now #sm: rpg #spm #luigi #mario #geno #dimentio #look i have a whole 10 pages written out on dimentio's backstory it gets...pretty fucking wild #i love trying to analyze the cosmic parts of the mario games

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