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skylersprompts · 7 months

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DC x DP Prompt *7*

Robin was staring at the screen of the Bat-Computer, while his mind was trapped in the past.

Damian could still clearly remember growing up in the League. And he remembers that he never questioned Grandfather or Mother, except once.

He had been seven, almost eight, when he was training his stealth. And what would be better practice then to follow his mother around till she spots him.

But this day his mother seemed distracted, something that never happened. He followed her to Grandfathers study and listened.

"The boy is nothing but a hindrance to Damian. He fails to kill and has sympathy that's unbecoming for an al Ghul. If Danyal won't complete his next mission, you will dispose of him", Grandfather sounded annoyed, as if he didn't just spoke about killing his twin, about how their mother would have to kill her own flesh and blood.

He didn't wait for his mothers response, knowing that she wouldn't oppose the demon head. As fast as he could he searched for his other half, they needed an plan.

On their next mission Danyal died. It was tragic, but he had sacrificed himself to save the heir of the al Ghuls. At least that is what Damian reported to the League.

Danyal was on the run and for the next 19 month he was forbidden to leave any clues about his whereabouts for Damian.

At some point he would be able to find him again.

He had searched for Danyal, ever since he stared to life with father. But the little voice in the back of his head kept whispering about how Danyal probably died because of his injuries years ago and that father would see it as his fault that he lost another son.

But know he found one of his clues. An online post from someone with the username 'ghostboi', about a constellation and the story that he himself spun around it. A story only the two of them knew. Well... and a few hundred strangers now, but he would have to talk later with Danyal about that.

Now it was time to tell father about yet another son that mother kept secret from him, oh joy.

The talk had been going as good as anyone could expect, which meant that he and father now sat in a private jet, only two hours after they found out about Danyals whereabouts and three hours since Bruce Wayne knows about his second blood son.

They where going as Civilians, since it would probably go smoother. And because the Brucie Wayne persona seemed to gift his father the ability to talk a little bit easier about emotions. Except for right now, because he was angry at Damian for keeping his twin a secret. Still, Damian couldn't see how he could have handled this better and also stayed silent.

Quietly he goes over the things he found out about his brother.

He now goes by the name Daniel James Fenton

He lives in Amity Park, Illinois

He was adopted at the age of nine by the Fentons

He goes to the local high school

He has an older sister, Jasmine Fenton, who is in college for psychology

His parents are ecto-scientist

He has two friend with the names of Tucker Foley and Samantha Manson

It wasn't a lot, but he didn't have much time and also not the patience to wait any longer. It had been almost nine years since he last seen his other half and even if he was nervous, he just couldn't bear to wait any longer.

After they landed in an airport in the city nearest to Amity Park, the two immediately got into the back of a car and their journey continues.

For a long time it was silent in the car, till Damian couldn't bear his father's brooding anymore.

"I didn't know if he had survived and I deemed it better for everyone involved if I'm the only one with this particular uncertainty and possible grief", even if his own voice was levelled and his father just responded with a grunt, the air in the car seemed now easier to breathe.

Yes, Bruce had been livid and heartbroken when Damian had told him about his youngest, but he could understand to some degree where the boy was coming from. And if the situation wouldn't be so heartbreaking, then he could be able to call it sweet of his son. He just didn't want him to hurt, but even so... now it was to late to think about the what if's, in a few minutes he would have Daniel in his sight.

They stopped in front of a house that was a clear violation of every OSHA law he could think of. But the big "FENTON WORK' sign, told him that they were right.

Bruce put on a light smile, before he knocked on the door, Damian on his left side. From inside he heard a little bit of shuffling and a carbon copy of Damian opened the door. Everything except for the eyes were the same.

But before Bruce could say anything, the twins were already in each other's arms. He could hear quiet sniffling.

"You found me, your safe", the words came like a mantra out of Daniels mouth.

"Ahbak, Danyal", was the whispered answer from Damian.

And Bruce felt like an intruder in this moment. He had never seen his son so openly affectionate and it was like a weight had lifted of Damians shoulders.

It took a few minutes till the two brothers let go of each other. Except for their hands, that stayed clasps with each other.

"Hello Daniel, I'm Bruce Wayne. I'm yours and Damians father", he introduced himself with a smile, even though the boy seemed to shrink a little bit into himself.

"Please call me Danny Mr. Wayne. Just Fruitloops call me Daniel", his son gave him a crooked smile and Bruce nodded.

"Of course, but call me Bruce", he answered easygoing.

"Is there a place where we can talk Danyal?", Damian got the attention of his twin with a little tuck on his hand.

"You can come inside. Mom and Dad are out of town to get a few supplies for a new project", his answer was sheepish, as he lead them inside.

It seemed like he had adjusted well to a civilian life. How he wished he could have seen his growth.

They sit down in the living room and start to talk a bit about Danny's life with the Fentons. It's apparent for both him and Damian, that Danny is hiding something from them, but they don't press. Maybe he'll tells Damian, when they have a moment alone.

"Should I help you to pack your possessions now? I'm sure the Fentons won't need to long to come back, so that you can say goodbye", as Damian was speaking, he stood up and looked at a bewildered Danny. But Bruce wasn't really better. As much as he would love to bring Danny home with them, they couldn't just rip him out of his life. And Danny seems to see it just like him.

"Dami... I'm not leaving. I love my parents and my friends, I can't just go and leave them", Danny also stood up and clasped his hands on Damians shoulders.

"Tt... so you choose them over me?", his voice was barely over a whisper.

"No! I-... it's just... give me time? I'm almost done with high school and I want to go Gotham U, so... just wait a bit? Please?", his tone was pleading, as he searched his brothers eyes, whom just answered with a defeated sight.

"Danny is right Damian. We can't just uproot him like that. As much as I want us all together, we found him now, the rest can wait", Damian deflated a little more at his words. And so Bruce couldn't just let the opportunity pass to comfort his children for once.

He closed the small distance between them and hugged both of the boys lightly to himself.

"You know that I always wanted to raise you myself and now that I see you both like that, I wish for it even more", he sighted with a woeful smile, while Damian grumbled about the proximity. But Danny's little smile shifted to a horrified look.

"Your wish is my command~", the feminine voice came out of thin air, but Bruce had no time to think about it. Because just a second later, there were two little Babies in his arms. Two little, screaming Babies.

Bruce never regretted it so much in his life, that he hadn't brought Alfred along.

#skylers prompts #dcxdp #dcxdp prompt #dpxdc #damian wayne #bruce wayne #danny gets deaged #damian gets deaged #now Bruce has two babies!#and one has ghost powers!#he will learn that the hard way #he will also learn that they both hate it to be by anyone but dad #this man will know no sleep #I literally just had the last scene stuck in my brain #and started to build a plot to justify writing it #ups #demon twins #demon twin au #and yes they faked dannys death #but they needed to wound him severely for the plan to work #the fentons won't even notice that dannys is missing #but they will notice that phantom isn't showing up anymore #his friends will be worried sick #and jazz to #as soon as she hears about it #mister lancer is the one adult who will fill out a missing person report #while jack and maddie a running after boxy in the background #yes Bruce took them both home because he panicked

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thesunisatangerine · 6 months

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against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part six

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: explicit descriptions of violence, blood, and death

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 3.3k

You had to get out of there.

Tremors shook the ground as another shell made impact somewhere far to your right but it was close enough that the explosion left your ears ringing. You flattened your back further against the fallen wall behind you when you heard the unmistakeable sound of gunfire, the rubble that cut into your skin barely registered in your mind from the adrenaline that rushed through you. But the cacophony of noise amalgamated into something continuous, something malevolent and cruel; something that promised death in its wake.

Bullets embedded themselves in a column, a wall, a body–everywhere–and fine pieces of debris flew and pelted against the exposed skin of your cheeks and against your helmet. Your eyes watered from the fine powder of pulverised cement and the oppressive heat, while your lungs were smothered by smoke and a choking stench–something like freshly-laid asphalt mixed with the distinct, rancid smell of burnt human flesh, sulphuric and sharp.

Through lidded eyes you witnessed the depravity; the extent of humanity’s appetite for senseless destruction and anarchy. It was total chaos–no, it was worse than that: it was butchery and brutality at its finest; a type of hell on earth.

All around you were bodies upon bodies, men and women alike–children. Their faces, frozen and pallid, permanently bore imprints of terror and agony; their crooked fingers and still eyes fixated to the sky imploring in violent judgment–resentful and anguished in their silence–the unspoken question:

Why?

Everything overwhelmed you all at once: the sight and the smell made your stomach churn to no end. Even when you heaved the remnants of your stomach to the ground, the nausea remained, pulsing and gnawing.

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you brought your camera to your eye and you willed the shaking in your bones to still.

You took a shot.

Another round of bullets splattered to a nearby wall and this time, you threw yourself front-first to the ground and you felt the rhythm of your heart reverberating against the mud. And a sinking feeling hit you. You’d bore witness to many conflicts, faced mortal peril, and was familiar to death like it was an old friend. Each time you were in such a situation, hopelessness never got the better of you–it was like you’d always known you were going to make it out each time.

This time it was different, you could feel it in your bones. You were going to die here and it wasn’t a matter of if, just when and how.

But you had a job. If you were going to die, you would die being the mouthpiece for the ones who’d already been silenced–from their premature deaths or from the hand of the power meant to protect them or both–to show the world what they’d suffered, what they’d sacrificed.

With that in mind, you steeled yourself. You loaded your camera with another ring of film, fingers stiff from the cold and marred by blood and mud, and you captured the scene.

Repeat.

There were people screaming, running, clamouring for survival. As you moved with them, you kept an eye out for other survivors who needed help to get out of there. You scanned the faces for the familiar ones of Jones and Gilda but they were nowhere to be seen. You’d lost track of them after the initial explosion and the chaos that followed so the only thing you could do now was to look for them as you went and hope for their safety.

Meter by meter, inch by inch, you moved slowly away from the direction of gunfire. You were farther ahead now but the gunners were still dangerously close, still close enough to be able to catch up to where you were if they continued their pursuit, so you remained crouched and cautious for any sound that could indicate danger.

When you came across the rubble of a fallen building–freshly destroyed by artillery from the smoke that came from it–you heard a whimper. It startled you; the softness of the sound barely pierced through the ringing in your ear but when you peered under a slab of concrete braced by a rugged beam, you caught sight of a scene that shattered what was left of your heart.

In the shadows, big eyes that you could not mistaken belonged to a child shone with terror, a little girl that looked no more than ten years of age, her mouth partly open in fear. You could discern another person next to the child but they weren’t moving at all and from the blood smeared on the girl’s cheek, you had a sinking feeling that the other person was dead.

Gunfire echoed somewhere behind you and you flinched at its closeness. How did they get so close so fast? You needed to get the both of you out of there. If you could save this child’s life then maybe, just maybe, your life was worth something after all.

You raised both of your hands up and spoke gently, hoping the little girl would be able to understand that you were there to help as you stooped to fit through the gap. The child hesitated and receded further back into the rubble so you tried again as you inched closer to where the other person laid unresponsive, patient despite the ever-closing sound of shots being fired.

You reached the other person–a woman–and when you placed two fingers against her pulsepoint and found no rhythm, you bit your quivering lip and looked at the child, chest heavy. And as if the little girl finally understood that you meant no harm, she inched towards you and placed her small hand in your open one. With a firm yet gentle grip on the girl, you guided the both of you out of the rubble.

Once outside, you carried the little girl behind a wall, heart breaking when you felt her shiver and at the fact that it took little effort carry to her for she weighed so little. And now with light and cover, you inspected the little girl.

To your relief, other than the trail of flaking blood that originated from the crown of her head and on her cheeks, the little girl looked like she didn’t sustain any other physical injuries. Satisfied for the time being you began to tend to her, gave her water and what little food you had on you, and then wiped away the blood.

After she finished, you detached the velcro of your bulletproof vest and unbuckled your helmet before you put them on the little girl. Then you hoisted the girl up on your back, leaving your camera dangling heavily on your chest.

You managed to sneak across the district without being noticed but you knew the danger was never far away. A little farther on, you began to recognise key landmarks that let you know you were close to the base you came from. So even when the muscles in your legs protested for you to rest, you pushed on.

Not a moment later though did loud shots fill the air and immediately, you fell to the ground, feeling fine rubble and shrapnels cut into the side you landed on as you manoeuvred your body so that the child wouldn’t get hurt. The little girl cried out and adrenaline coursed through your veins, instinct driving you to keep the child safe so you pushed the two of you against a nearby wall, your back to the open space while you shielded the child with your body, her head safely caged between your arms and chest.

You craned your head over your shoulders to figure out where the shots were fired but then a feeling of lightness passed through you followed by a growing thickness at the back of your throat. You coughed, the force of it made you keel forward, and as you looked down you saw fresh blood splattered on the face of the girl, her eyes wide with horror as she looked up at you.

Then you felt it, a burning sensation that enveloped the entirety of your right side which left you cold. When you looked to your side your shirt clung to your skin, soaked with blood.

No.

You sputtered again and you tried to breathe but the pain only intensified and instead of feeling relief, the act smothered you–it felt like you were drowning. Then everything began to blend together: the shapes lost their edges and some images doubled, but the light seemed to intensify on its own, swallowing all in its wake. Then you sagged forward and the ringing in you ears, too, blared unceasingly.

No.

You must…

The child…

Wait.

Alexia–

“–are you okay?”

You started as Derek’s voice brought you from your reverie, your mind someplace else that you’d already forgotten but the feeling that you were missing something important lingered behind in the back of your mind.

“Huh?”

“Honey, your brother’s been trying to get your attention for the past minute. Are you alright?” The familiar voice of your mom brought your focus to her. She sat at the head of the long table while Derek opposite you, and you found twin pairs of blue eyes looking at you with concern. Your mom stood, chair scraping against the tiled floor as she did and she made her way towards you. She put a palm over your forehead once she was close enough before she asked, “do you have a fever?”

“Mom, I’m fine. I’m just–” You began but suddenly, a wave of exhaustion came over you which left you cold. It was as if a sheet of ice was put over you and you felt the coldness cling to your bones, weighing you down as your body slowly began to freeze over. “I’m–I’m just tired. I think I’ll rest up now.”

When you moved to stand, staggering slightly due to the weakness in your knees, Derek snatched your hands and clung to them, and you looked at him in alarm, eyes wide.

“Please, don’t. Don’t.” He said through gritted teeth, the corners of his mouth drooped low in a pained grimace, blue eyes glazed over and brows furrowed in a silent plea.

His obsecration confused you and you were about to ask him why you shouldn’t rest if you felt tired when your mother placed a hand on your shoulder, her grip gentle yet firm. You turned to her and when you found her gaze, she wore the same expression as your brother.

“You’re brother’s right, honey. Just–please, just stay with us for a bit more.”

What was going on? Why weren’t they letting you go?

Another wave of fatigue doused over you but this time, pain erupted from your chest. So intense was it that it nearly made you keel over the table, nails digging into its hard surface as you tried to catch your breath but with each inhale the more it felt like you were running out of air.

“I’ll–I’ll join you in a bit. I just… I just need a nap.” You staggered to your feet, pulling your hands away from Derek’s grip with the remaining strength you had and brushed off your mom’s protest.

As you passed the full-body mirror just beside your bedroom door, you saw your reflection, haggard and pale, and with her were the familiar silhouettes of the people that haunted you… your mother and father. They stood there behind you–your mother to your right and your father to the left–but you only found an empty space where they stood when you whipped your head back to look for them.

So there you stood, rooted in front of the mirror as you soaked their images in but for some reason, your couldn’t quite discern their faces. They were blurred; it was as if someone had swiped their thumb over the freshly laid ink of their image and made their features indecipherable.

Longing prompted you to reach out a hand to try and trace the lost edges of their faces but instead of meeting the mirror’s smooth surface like you expected, your fingers sank into the mirror like it was made of water. Quickly, in fear that it would hurt you, you retracted your hand and you watched in awe as the mirror image went still again, back to the reflection of yourself and your parents.

Then out of curiosity you plunged your hand again into the mirror and instead of feeling pain, you felt… nothing. The sensations in your hand in the mirror stopped as if it had ceased to exist completely.

Would it soothe then the pain in your body if you stepped into it?

The thought tempted you and you stepped forward, ready to sink into this silver miracle, but something stopped you–a weight on your shoulder pulled you back from the mirror. You staggered backwards, caught off guard from the force of it, but when you looked back you found nobody however this time, when you returned your attention to the mirror, the reflection of your parents was gone.

Emotions bubbled in your throat, bitter grief and burning confusion a familiar taste on your tongue. Where did they go? Why did they leave you? And as these questions filtered through your mind, another wave of exhaustion doused over you, its weight was unbearable. You needed relief, and soon.

You were ready to step into the mirror–into oblivion–but it wasn’t there anymore. In fact, everywhere you looked there was nothing, just negative space as if the light had dissolved all existence but you. You looked down and you saw your reflection on the still water you were apparently standing on.

It was so still, so peaceful, and you feel so heavy. It would be easy to just sink into this blissful nothingness–this silence–after… that’s right, after having witnessed the revolting boil of humanity’s thirst for blood. Yes, that was it, the reason you were here: you were here to forget.

The longer you stared into the water, the more your will to remain standing frayed.

Not a moment later, you let yourself be plunged downwards into the cold water. Into nothingness.

You woke with a start, breathing sharply as you did, the sensation of falling still with you and the memory of the dream you just had lingered. It was about… what was it?

When you opened your eyes, you found golden light and you squinted at the stream of the early sun that found its way through the gap between the heavy curtains. Your cheek was warm against Alexia’s bare back and you relished the way her muscles shifted beneath her skin as she breathed, still deep asleep.

With her so close like this a sense of peace and calm washed over you, the kind that only Alexia’s presence could provide. You turned your head slightly and shifted closer to her, pressing a soft kiss on one of her shoulder blades before you nuzzled the nape of her neck where her scent was most prominent.

You sighed as you breathed her in.

“What are you up to back there?” Alexia’s voice, rough and heavy from slumber, met your ears and the question elicited a small laugh from you.

“Nothing. Just getting comfortable.”

Alexia hummed then she murmured, “come here.”

You moved as she began to turn and disappointment filled you from the separation but when she pulled you into her embrace after she settled on her back, the disappointment quickly faded away. And when she kissed you, soft and languid, everything melted away except for the tender warmth of Alexia’s lips.

You were content.

Suddenly, a gnawing feeling seeped into the edges of your mind and, little by little by little, apprehension filled you. There was something you’d forgotten, somewhere you needed to be.

You pulled away from Alexia’s lips. “What time is it?”

“Don’t go.”

Her answer jarred you. You lifted yourself up on your elbow and considered Alexia, confused as to why she would say such a thing. She knew you had to go. How could you not go? Where else could you possibly be? So you asked her as much.

“No, you don’t have to. Please.” Alexia placed a hand on your cheek, her eyes glassy. You sighed, turned your cheek away from her touch, and extricated yourself from her warm embrace. You stood at the foot of the bed and regarded Alexia again who was now sitting up, the sheets pooled around her waist, her chest bare, shoulders hunched forward as she looked at you. You only shook your head before you went into the en suite bathroom to get ready.

Once you got in the shower you, unsurprisingly, thought of Alexia and your confusion returned twofold. Why was she making this difficult? She knew you had to go. You already told her…

At that thought, you frowned as you tried to remember. When did you tell her? Why did you need to leave? The questions were beginning to make your head hurt so you left the shower, wrapped yourself in a towel and headed to the closet. In there, you found your stack of simple white clothes. You picked a white shirt and a matching pair of jeans and you made your way to the bedroom door.

As you passed by the bed, you saw Alexia just as you left her and from where you stood, you saw how small she looked. And those eyes… they shone with something you could only name as plea, the tears in them now in danger of falling.

Your chest ached and so did your head.

You shook your head and made your way to Alexia, pressed an apologetic kiss against her temples, then you moved to the door.

You opened it and an abyss greeted you, a world of no outlines, shape nor colour, just a brilliant white that called to you. Its pull was magnetic, like a tide that wanted to sweep you away, but there was something keeping you in place, an invisible tether and it was anchored to the woman sitting in your bed.

“Please, don’t go.”

You had one foot out of the door when Alexia spoke with such gentleness you couldn’t do anything but look over your shoulder. The sight of her crying made the pounding in your temples unbearable and the pain in your chest blazed anew, excruciating and cruel. The world blurred and warmth slipped down your cheeks.

Why were you crying? Why was this difficult? You had to leave, you were about to miss something important.

“Alexia, why?” You sobbed, clutching your chest. It hurt.

She was out of the bed now, right beside you, and she reached out and cupped your face with one hand, the other went to your hand on the door handle. Her touch that used to soothe you, that used to bring you peace and clam, sent pain to every nerve in your body. You gasped, your chest was in danger of bursting and your knees lost their strength. And then you remembered why you needed to leave: you needed this pain to disappear; you had to get better.

Finally, your knees buckled under your weight but Alexia was there to catch you, her body strong and firm, and oh, so warm.

“Alexia, please let me go,” you sobbed into her arms.

Everything hurt. But she held you, unyielding.

“Stay. Please, stay with me,” she whispered in your ear and the words were followed by another wave of pain. This time, you screamed in agony and clawed at Alexia’s shoulders to get yourself away but still, she didn’t budge.

“I got you. I got you. I got you,” she repeated as every nerve in your body screamed at you. Everything coalesced into a singular, never-ending noise but Alexia’s voice pierced through the veil like a silver lining, a life line that you held onto as you were washed away into an ocean of light.

#ap11 #not proofread #mine #my writing #a/n: sometimes it just hits you: the magnitude of man's madness. where does it stop? when? who will pay? why?#cant think anymore right now but let me know what you think about the story so far #apologies for the mistakes i wrote this in sleep deprived mode ill fix them later #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader

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