#the league taught him that helping others meant taking their vulnerabilities for yourself | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kwonhoshi0 · 3 years

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𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝

navigation | requests : open | 2nd march 2021

pairing : bakugou x fem!reader

genre : fluff, heavy angst

warnings : mutual pining, soulmate AU, !quirk world, heartbreak?, eating, vomit

themes : falling in love, unfair world, ‘it had to be us’, slow burns

desc : in a world where when you see your soulmate in their most vulnerable state your eyes change to the colour of the one you’re meant to be with, but sometimes soulmates aren’t allowed to be together, the way the universe was made is cruel it hurt.

a/n : i’m about to cause so much pain so i’m sorry in advance 🕴

listen to :

this world was cruel, that much was clear.

one couple in a thousand are fated to be apart, the thought didn’t scare you much since people in love always find a way, right?

when you touch your soulmates hands for the first time you feel a little spark, like electricity but for 1 couple out of 1000 they’d get thrown apart, quite literally thrown apart. they’d repel like the opposite ends of a magnet.

reading people’s experience on the matter broke your heart, people fated to be together only for their wishes to become nothing but that, wishes.

the same happened to your aunt and uncle, they’re together but apart, not allowed to touch eachother without being repelled apart. you watched it firsthand and it hurt seeing them live so happily apart in this unfair world.

your other uncle was no other then pro-hero all might, he raised you from the age of 3, your parents died when you were young, in a villain attack. they died fighting and their last wish was for you, their daughter to grow up a happy child in the care of your fathers brother, all might.

your uncle is an amazing guardian, he was nervous but he taught you everything he knows, your wish is to be a pro-hero exactly like him, exactly like your parents and that’s what he wanted for you as well even if there were dangers who was he to say no to your dream?

he trained you carefully, your quirk was powerful and sometimes hard to manage when not in control of your emotions, your quirk is telekinesis, you can lift yourself into the air with enough power and your hands stabilise the quirk, your nose bleeds when you start overusing it and you get lightheaded but with the help of all might you slowly got better at handling the power.

-> FIRST DAY OF UA

‘y/n you’re up next’ you walked up to where your class teacher aizawa was standing, steadying your feet a little you flicked the ball into the air only above your hand and then using your mind and hand you shot it up into the sky, everyone watched in amazement as you got the best score by barely trying. your eyes locked with a blondes, his eyes stood out, they glistened gold and crimson in the sun dancing in the light hitting his face but you looked away feeling your face heat up at his looks. ‘hey y/n right? you did amazing out there my names mina ashido!’ you smiled at her friendliness, ‘hi, you did pretty great too’.

-> HIM

as the months went on you caught yourself staring more and more at a certain blonde, sometimes you caught him staring back. it was no secret that you’re attractive anyone with eyes could see that, someone had recorded you trying to regain your breath during the sports festival and it went viral. when you caught him staring at you from across the table, you simply smirked at him before going back to talking to denki and mina.

at first you thought your attraction to him was only because of his looks, until you started getting to know the boy underneath. he’s caring, he’s thoughtful, he would never say it but he is. you noticed when he would do things for others, when you all moved into the dorms after the USJ attack you started to notice his small gestures to show he cares, they may not be big but you noticed.

in his eyes you are incredible, he often thought about your strength, physically and mentally. everyone thinks that you’re lucky because you got to learn from all might but they never thought about the circumstances in which you got there, your parents died but you still fought on. at first you were closed off, until you became friends with mina who introduced you to the bakusquad, you all clicked immediately. your sarcastic humour paired with their loud and bakugous equally sarcastic humour fit like a puzzle.

-> love birds

‘hey idiot, come here’, it was 8pm and the dekusquad had sneaked out to watch the sunset along the beach. you hopped down from the railing and traced it with the tip of your fingers before reaching him, ‘what is it blasty’, you looked at him, the crimson sky faded along with pink, the sun only illuminating the colour onto his face making him look beautiful he looks pretty , she looks pretty. if only you could hear eachothers thoughts.

‘look at them’ you looked down from the perch to see denki kicking water at kirishima and sero as mina threw wet sand balls at them both, you giggled at the sight, even her laugh is pretty he thought.

‘hey love birds!! get down here!’ the pink haired girl yelled.

‘SHUT UP PINKIE’ neither of you denied it, maybe because that’s what you wanted.

you all sneaked back into the dorms when it got dark, you clicked your phone ‘12am’ you whispered to your friends, thankfully no one snitched on you. the wooden floors creaked a little as you made your way to your room, you grabbed your towel and slipped off your clothes before slipping into the shower, once you got out you threw on a large hoodie which almost went down to your knees. ‘y/nn bakugou is being annoying can you help’ denki pouted making grabby hands at you. after agreeing you skipped downstairs to see the boy nagging over the dishes, smiling a little you walked over to him.

you started cleaning up the dishes he was nagging about as he made you all food since you were all hungry from the beach. ‘thanks’ you grinned hearing those words leave his mouth, even if they were quiet ‘what was that blasty?’ he glared at you ‘i will deck you’ you stifled a laugh at his words as your eyes connecting with his crimson ones for a second, both of your eyes widened looking into the others before you quickly went back to the task at hand.

he just has pretty eyes.. that’s it fuck, no i don’t like her, fuck.

———

falling in love with katsuki bakugou was not in your plans, but the way the blonde haired boy fussed about cleaning and things that you’d think he’d give no care to struck you. the way he’d pick a stray fluff or hair off kirishimas clothes but not tell him, the way he’d use his anger to mask him affection. it all endeared you, but why?

maybe it was the night you went to the beach, when he looked down at your friends messing around like it’d be the last time he’s seeing them, or the way he looked at you when you sneezed with a grin on his face,

‘why are you smiling at that’

‘you sounded like a fuckin cat’,

was it because of his eyes, his stupid pretty crimson eyes telling you to come closer, telling you to kiss him. — or the night he looked after you when you got drunk in the dorms, you had drunk a little too much and felt yourself feeling sick, before you knew it you’d ran upstairs to your bathroom and started vomiting into the toilet, he followed you and lifted your hair out of your face, ‘idiot take these’ he handed you some medicine for the pain in your head. — and he stayed with you that night so you wouldn’t be sick by yourself.

it’s been almost two years since you caught feelings for him. two years since you fell dangerously in love with the angry blonde boy.

———

today you were attacked by the league of villains while training and everything was okay, you were fighting alongside him, while you were fighting back to back you hadn’t noticed the villain to the side of you, he was aiming for bakugou, you did what you could in the moment and took the hit for him. you didn’t know what the persons quirk did but it didn’t seem to affect to you at all. ‘IDIOT GRAB MY HAND’ you quickly shook your head to get rid of the dizzy feeling taking place and grabbed his hand.

as soon as you defeated everyone you gathered near the front of the facility and that’s when you felt it. feelings from your past, the pain of having zero to very little memories of your parents, the pain of everyone but you knowing them, most of all the anger. you screamed crouching to the ground throwing your hands over your ears trying to get rid of the emotions they were overwhelming and painful. bakugou told aizawa that you got hit with a quirk but it didn’t do anything, he ran over as soon as he heard you scream.

‘y/n!, can you hear me.. fuck what’s happening’ you squeezed your eyes shut yelling out again as the stabbing feeling covered your body like needles, aizawa tried erasing the quirk but it was no use.

you gasped for air as the pain finally stopped and opened your eyes, ‘FUCK YOU SCARED ME SO FUCKING MUCH’ you smiled weakly as you realised he’s cradling you, — your eyes change colour when you see your soulmate in their most vulnerable state — ‘wait what is-’ you looked up at his words to see his crimson eyes replaced by your [c] ones, your own eyes now crimson, in only 5 seconds his eyes turned back to crimson as yours turned back to [c].

‘bakugou’ you were afraid to look at his expression, he tilted your head up and he smiled at you ‘i’m glad it’s you, i’m so fuckin glad it’s you’ you beamed at him as tears welled up in the base of your eyes.

that night you were planning on going on a date together, just you and him. mina and denki were sat on your bed crying and screaming about what happened, ‘ugh the way you looked at eachother makes me want a relationship!!’ she sobbed as her lips formed a pout, you laughed at her antics as denki did your eyeliner for you. ‘is this okay?’ you went for very ‘you’ clothes and you were pretty satisifed with your outfit, smiling you turned to them. ‘now this isn’t fair how do you look good in everything’ you scoffed before booping the pink girl.

you had butterflies in your stomach before even meeting him, the way he made you feel nervous but ecstatic. ‘hey’ you turned at the voice, smiling when you noticed you accidentally matched, you wore a black jumper with a skull on it as he wore his black skull t-shirt. you both noticed this and smiled.

‘gonna keep staring at me dumbass, come on?’

you walked after him smiling at his eagerness, ‘where are we going blasty’ he quickly looked up at the stars before saying ‘to see some memories’. after 10 minutes of walking you noticed the beach, it was the same one you came to with your friends, the one where you watched the sunset together, when you were oblivious to the others feelings. you talked and laughed about how oblivious you both were,

‘i kinda knew it was you, i think, i don’t know it’s fuckin weird.. i saw you and i just, knew?’

your heart did backflips at his words, ‘when i first saw you, at the first day of UA, you caught my eye maybe it was the pretty red eyes or the angry face-’

‘I DONT HAVE AN ANGRY FACE’ even his anger made you fall for him.

you’re down bad, you both are.

after your walk along the beach you talked more and walked until you realise it had been hours and you should be getting back to the dorms, somehow this entire time you hadn’t touched hands, it’s not that you didn’t want to you were just so immersed in talking to him it felt like you could talk to him forever.

as you got back to the dorms you stood outside the door and edged closer to him, his eyes sparkled just like they did that day, he entwined his hands with yours.

but instead of feeling the spark you felt a jolt, like a pain and you both pushed apart like magnets.

‘wait.. What, no this isn’t happening i held you this morning, what fucking changed’ he looked at you hurt and in shock, you couldnt breath, it was happening, the one you love but never be able to touch.

‘y/n, don’t fucking cry i’m here, i’m still here’.

‘but you’re not, it’s like we have an invisible box around each other you’ll never be able to hold me, or kiss me’ it was like you couldn’t feel anything but you felt everything at the same time.

‘there’s gotta be a reason, i held you fucking hours ago y/n, maybe it’s that fuckers quirk’

‘bakugou this is what happened to my aunt and uncle, they were fine for the first couple hours until i-it happened’

‘you deserve someone you can hold’

‘but i want you, you’re my fucking soulmate don’t be stupid’

‘you cant even fucking touch me bakugou’

‘call me blasty again.’

‘what?’

‘please’

his eyes were filling with tears, threatening to spill.

‘bakugou, i’m sorry, i love you’

‘then we’ll make this work’

‘we can’t blasty, you know we can’t’

A/N :

🕴i am very sorry for the pain i have caused i made myself cry

taglist :

@todoroki-shoto-is-life @blazedbakugou @luluwiie @blue-gold-demigod-clouds @gazelle-des-pres

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dented-nado · 4 years

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Only if you want but maybe 18 “I can’t breathe” with superbat? It might be more angst than fluff but maybe supes is helping bat calm down from a panic? Love your stuff! 💕

[[Sorry this took so long! But once I got writing! I couldn’t stop! So I hope you enjoy this ficlet! It takes place in canon-verse - Dick has just quit as Robin and Bruce has a lot of rules for being Batman. Enjoy!]]

Batman as a meaning, sometimes changed… depending on what Bruce either wanted to enforce or punish himself with.

It could be something as simple as “Batman doesn’t eat Nachos” or “Batman doesn’t eat a lot of sweets”.

Those were rules meant to control his diet and discourage himself from emotional eating. Though it also meant he didn’t always let himself have a little fun when it came to dining at all.

Being dedicated as he was to organization, he had all the Batman rules written down - in a small black book he kept in a locked drawer in the bat-cave.

Rule #1: Batman doesn’t cry

Bruce hated crying, especially in front of people. It made him feel vulnerable, it made him feel weak… and most of all, when he cried, he couldn’t control it. Not being able to control some part of himself no matter how small infuriated him. He sometimes wished he was a cyborg or a computer that was easily programmable and he could do being Batman and doing his work without pesky emotions or trauma getting in his way.

There were some times - times he wasn’t very proud of, he had felt tears slip out of his eyes among his teammates, he had the bat-cowl to hide them. But he knew that both Clark and J'onn knew every damn time he had started crying. J'onn didn’t tend to bother him about it, and would pretend he didn’t notice, because he knew Bruce didn’t want it to be noticed.

Clark would do the same… for the most part. Bruce knew he tried, hard, for his sake, because he knew that -especially in the Batsuit- that Bruce didn’t want to acknowledge he had gotten emotional over something, or something they encountered had brought up old feelings, opened old wounds that had never healed or gone acknowledged. Except… Clark would bite his lip and look over at Bruce with sad eyes, like he wanted to talk, somehow encourage Bruce to open up, somehow convey that it was okay even for the Bat to sometimes cry… because he himself struggled with the fact that even the man of steel was allowed to cry.

But he didn’t, at least not in the moment, because if he called it out, Bruce would shut down and lash out, deny it, because Rule Number One: Was Batman Doesn’t Cry.

Even if Bruce Wayne cried, Batman couldn’t cry.

Rule # 2: Batman doesn’t panic.

Batman always had to be in control. Of himself and the situation. He couldn’t panic. He wasn’t supposed to panic. If he panicked… who would be the one to figure it all out if not him? So, he absolutely could not panic.

Except he had panicked before. He had broken that rule.

Sometimes it was in a quiet ‘silly’ way, like when he had been in the bat-cave with the cowl down - Clark right by his side after they had a long day dealing with various catastrophes - when asked:

“Hey B… you sure your okay? After today?”

Bruce’s brain had short-circuited when asked if he was okay for some damn reason and had answered:

“Peachy-keen and Squeaky Clean.”

“…What?”

Clark had swallowed hard to keep from chuckling. Bruce put his head in his hand.

“Fuck… its something Dick used to say.”

“Sounds like a young Dick Grayson thing to say…” Clark had paused, Bruce willed the pink in his face to go away and pleaded with every higher power in existence that his ears wouldn’t turn pink as well and stand out like a damn stop-light on his pale sun-deprived skin.

“Were you thinking about him B?” Clark had asked slowly.

“……”

This came up against Rule #3: Batman doesn’t lie for stupid reasons.

Bruce found himself having trouble following this one the most.

“No…”

“Bruce.” Clark had said in a disappointed tone.

“Yes.” Bruce immediately replied, changing his answer. It was a little ridiculous how Clark could manage to get him to stop lying the same way Alfred could just by speaking in that ’oh your better than that.’tone.

“Have you talked to him lately?” Clark asked.

Bruce knew Clark was perfectly aware he was treading on dangerous territory, but it didn’t seem to phase the super-man at the moment.

“… I don’t think he wants to talk.”

“I know he quit as robin but…”

“He was furious at me for not telling him about Batgirl… among other things… I think… and we haven’t talked since.”

They sat in silence as Bruce stared forward blankly at his computer.

“I’m never doing it again…” He had said finally in a low voice.

Clark had landed on the ground from his floating position and put a quiet hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “Doing what, B?”

“I wasn’t a good parent. I wasn’t ready to be a parent, I… I think I was projecting onto him, so I thought our goals were aligned, but they weren’t… I don’t know why I thought… I would be good for him, I was terrible for him.” Bruce found himself babbling.

He had just broken Rule #4: Batman doesn’t talk about feelings or personal events to anyone.

But then again… his cowl was down, so maybe it wouldn’t count… but on the other hand he was still in the suit.

At some point along the way of becoming friends with Clark Kent, he had broken and completely obliterated Rule #5: Batman doesn’t trust anyone. Because he had come to trust Clark. Batman had come to trust Superman. It felt dangerous… the way Clark had slowly gotten him to open up, feel safe, feel comforted. It scared him… but he treasured it at the same time. So sometimes… the fact he had broken that rule didn’t always feel so bad.

“I think you did the best you could given the circumstances… and maybe your goals were aligned at one point and he just… changed. And I don’t know B, I was peeved at my parents when I was about Dick’s age.” Clark said with a slight shrug.

Bruce’s head whipped towards him. “Why? I mean maybe I don’t know parents well but… yours seem so…”

Clark smiled and chuckled. “Perfect?” He floated back up in the air and 'sat’ on nothing next to Bruce’s chair, criss-crossing his legs. “No, but really. I thought about running away even… I was going through some stuff, it was… hard going through puberty, gaining powers, and realizing your an alien that fast. I briefly resented them not telling me… it was worse than just not knowing I was adopted, I was an adopted alien. I felt lied to, and like I didn’t belong anywhere.”

Bruce leaned forward curiously. He had never heard Clark really talk about his childhood or teenager-hood before. “Eventually I realized… they were just trying to give me a normal childhood, where I could feel like a normal kid. They never wanted me to feel like I didn’t belong, and eventually we talked about it.”

He twiddled his thumbs. “I know its far from a one-to-one with what your going through with Dick… I’m sure you both have a long list of things you could have done, should have done… and it just… blew up without either of you realizing it was blowing up. ”

Bruce nodded quietly in response. “I probably had it coming. I don’t think I taught him how to deal with his anger in a very healthy way. I’m not exactly a model of mental health…” Bruce mused. “I know sometimes been letting fighting be a way to deal with things rather than dealing with them… that’s probably not a good thing, is it?”

“Probably not… but I think you’d be hard-pressed to find a single person in the league that doesn’t sometimes use fighting as an emotional crutch.”

“Hmm…” Bruce had replied quietly.

They sat in silence for a long moment again, Bruce drifting back into deep thought, that was until a warm hand covering his surprised him and jolted him out of his thoughts.

“I think you’ll talk about it eventually, B, he isn’t going to stay mad forever, and you still raised him.”

“I just hope he finds what he’s looking for… but it honestly… might be in his best interests to… to never see me again.” Bruce said, his own hand now covering his own mouth as he felt himself dangerously get close to breaking rule #1.

“I… I don’t want it to bother me, I don’t… I don’t want to think about it…” Bruce stammered.

Clark’s hand traveled up Bruce’s arm and he wrapped his arm around his shoulders pulling him into a tight hug. “It’s okay to be upset about it B… I’d be more concerned if you weren’t upset about it. He’s your son.”

“I don’t… I don’t think he sees me as his father, why would he?”

“B…” Clark said softly.

“I keep… loosing people, I don’t… I don’t know why… I don’t know why I keep…. I keep…” Bruce made a growl of frustration as his eyes began to water. “I’m… sorry.”

“It’s okay don’t apologize, you don’t have to apologize for feeling.”

“I … I can’ breathe…” Bruce stammered in-between gasps of trying to force himself to pull himself together.

“Don’t try to force yourself to stop, It’s okay, B, really, just let it out, its okay…” Clark whispered calmly and softly.

“Batman doesn’t…”

“Forget Batman for a second, your more important. Besides! Who says what Batman can and can’t do?” Clark said pulling Bruce into an even tighter hug.

Bruce couldn’t help a sniffle. “I did. I have a rule-book and everything.”

Clark sighed and pressed his cheek against Bruce’s. “Of course you did you goofy-bat.”

Bruce grumbled but slowly closed his eyes and let himself feel Clark hold him as he slowly began to calm down and breathe again.

“I just want to be… better… I wish I had been better.”

“Well if you want to be 'better’ - which is not the word I’d pick by the way… don’t leave out the possibility of talking to Dick once you’ve had some time apart… You both need time to sort yourselves out. And you could also start by not writing silly rules for yourself and holding yourself to an impossible standard.”

Bruce snorted. “If I don’t make the rules for Batman, who will.”

“Hmm.” Clark replied.

—

A week later, Clark visited Bruce again in the cave. He and Dick still hadn’t talked, or run into each other. It still… hurt. But Bruce was now open to talking when it was time, but now wasn’t the time.

“I got you a little present.” Clark said, once again hover-sitting next to Bruce.

Bruce raised his eyebrow at him. “What’s the occasion? I didn’t forget my birthday again, did I?”

“You’ve forgotten your own…” Clark began before shaking his head. “No, that’s not it, and the occasion is 'your my friend and I wanted to do something for you’.” He replied with a sheepish smile.

He handed Bruce a very carefully and meticulously black wrapped flat present with a yellow bow on top. Bruce had to smile a little on how it matched the Batman aesthetic, clearly, Clark had an attention to detail that he had to appreciate. Clark waited patiently as bruce went through his routine of very carefully unwrapping the gift to avoid ripping the paper and found a maroon colored notebook inside.

Bruce glanced up at Clark curiously before opening the notebook to find Clark’s hand-writing inside.

“Superman’s ”“'rules”“ for what Batman can and can’t do.”

Bruce smiled a little wider and kept reading.

Rule #1: Batman is allowed to cry.

Rule #2: It’s okay for Batman to not have everything figured out right away.

Rule #3: Batman can have some fun and laugh sometimes because he has a smile and a laugh that lights up a room and has probably the cutest dimples I’ve ever seen.

Bruce’s heart skipped a few beats.

Rule #4: I’ll always be your friend, and I care about you, a lot… so Batman should never forget that.

Rule #4.5: I love you. Batman doesn’t have to feel the same way, but he should know that.

Bruce looked up at Clark with wide eyes. Clark was turned slightly away, face beet red.

“I know… I can’t help being a hopeless romantic, I’m sorry… but…”

“Clark… I…” Bruce’s words caught in his throat, heart feeling like it was going to fall out. “This is… really… really … sweet… thank you.”

Clark glanced back at Bruce finally with a little shy smile. “Your welcome.”

“I do have to add one little thing though…” Bruce said with a slightly cheeky look, getting out his pen.

Clark looked him over slightly startled “What’s that?”

Bruce quietly with a calm smile wrote down the words that had caught in his throat, but he wanted to say in one way or another anyway.

Rule #5: Batman loves Superman too… and thinks he should know that too.

He turned the book slightly so Clark could read the additional rule, he was incredibly amused by the way Clark lit up and looked so over-joyed he might actually start glowing.

“Do… Do you think maybe Batman could change his rule about no dating within the league?”

Bruce leaned forward with a hum. “Everyone else seems to break it all the time anyway so it might not be a very good rule anyway.”

Clark laughed. “The team is still together even with the drama it can cause from time to time.”

“Then I think I will get rid of that rule, and maybe Rule #6 - is "Batman can date” especially if I don’t want to break rule #3" Bruce stood as he and Clark quietly locked hands.

“That’s true, I’m going to hold you to that one especially.” Clark said decidedly.

“I always thought my laugh was scary… Is it also weird I didn’t even know I had dimples?” Bruce asked, feeling a little giddy for once.

“Well when you force any laugh its scary, but when I’ve seen you genuinely laugh before….” Clark almost looked a little wistful “It… makes me swoon a little…. it is kind of bad you didn’t know you have dimples B, but its okay.”

“Hmmm…” Bruce hummed. “Guess there’s still things for me to learn.”

“Guess Batman doesn’t know everything.” Clark teased playfully.

“No, and he doesn’t have to know everything, Rule #2.” Bruce replied now leaning against Clark slightly.

“Rule #7 that I just made up, there’s always still time to figure things out. And that’s okay.”

“That’s a good one, I have to write it down really quick.” Bruce said reaching for his pen.

—

Bruce handed Clark his old notebook as he replaced it with Clark’s sweet gesture of a rulebook, allowing Clark to flip through the old rules.

“Why Nachos specifically? Do you like Nachos?”

“I fucking love Nachos.” Bruce replied with a mournful sigh.

“Wow, good to know. Sounds like you have a sweet tooth too?”

“I do. It’s horrible.” Bruce argued.

“Oh no its not.”

“It is when you eat your feelings, and I don’t have super-metabolism, I didn’t get spend ages getting these rock hard abs only to fuck it up by filling myself up with all the nachos and sweet things I’ve always wanted to eat and forced myself not to.”

“Point taken, but for the record, you can enjoy yourself and eat things you like. Besides, Alfred has told me you don’t eat enough anyway.”

Bruce grumbled. “Oh great, please tell me he hasn’t already shown you my baby pictures.”

Clark gasped. “No But I’m definitely going to ask him next time I talk to him.”

“Fuck.” Bruce groaned.

“Rule #35 Stop getting excited whenever Clark is around… you get excited when I’m around??” Clark said cheerfully.

“…. No….”

“B…”

“……..Yes.”

“Awww, B!”

Bruce mumbled and grumbled for a moment because he couldn’t help himself.

“That’s so sweet.”

“Your the sweet one here, don’t accuse me of such things.”

“You’re sweet too though! Sweetest bat around.”

“Clark.”

“Bruce.”

Unable to keep up his grumpy facade, Bruce smiled very slightly and sighed over-dramatically. “Well… thank you.”

They both locked eyes for a long moment, then jumped suddenly when Bruce’s phone dinged and scared the crap out of both of them, making them jump.

“Who the hell is…”

Bruce picked up his phone and looked at the name over the message that had been sent and froze.

“It’s Dick…”

Clark’s eyes grew wide and he floated forward slightly.

“Hey… idk if you want to talk about it. I talked to Barbara, I think we should. If you want, idk.”

Bruce immediately tapped the message open, wondered if he should wait so it didn’t seem like he was desperate or constantly checking his phone to see if Dick had texted him, then decided “fuck it” and answered anyway.

“Yeah, we should talk about it. Catch up. Let me know when/where works for you.”

Dick replied almost as fast as Bruce had. “You sure you don’t need to work around…. … work?”

“No. This is more important right now. Work can wait.”

“Okay… I get off work in an hour, can you get to Bludhaven by then? I’ll send you the address.”

Bruce found himself tilting his head, curious as to what job Dick had gotten since he quit as robin.

“Cool. I’ll be there. Hope your doing okay.”

“…Yeah… you too. See you then.”

Bruce looked up at Clark. “You were right… he wants to talk…”

Clark beamed at him and put his arms around his bat-boyfriend. “Good. I’m glad.”

“I…. thank you… so much Clark. I’m still worried I’ll mess it up but…”

“It’s going to be okay B, your going to be okay, he’s going to be okay, we’re going to be okay.”

Bruce leaned against Clark’s chest and sighed. “Yeah… It’s going to be okay…”

#Anonymous #prompt fill #my writing #superbat #batman #superman #superbats #clark kent #bruce wayne #angst and fluff #hurt and comfort

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talatomaz · 5 years

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healed scars | laurel lance x fem!reader

a/n: i really love laurel and i’m still annoyed that they killed her off. (this takes place around the legends of yesterday crossover)

y/s/n = your superhero name

warnings: mentions of blood, death

word count: 1.7k

masterlist | request list | request rules

reader was sent from the future and is now a part of team flash. you gained your powers from human experimentation by argus. team flash teamed up with team arrow to defeat vandal savage but you got shot by one of his henchman and after the wound was stitched up, you’re in the training room when laurel walks in

i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated

You were currently in your training room, taking out your frustrations of the day on the black punching bag. With each punch, you imagined it was Vandal Savage, wanting to get your revenge for him shooting you.

How stupid were you that you didn’t see that gun aimed at you?

The one thing you should have done when you all arrived at the abandoned factory, the one thing you were always taught to remember, was to be aware of your surroundings. If you had done so, then maybe you wouldn’t have gotten shot.

Yes, Caitlin stitched up the wound, and yes, the injury wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but the fact still remained that that immortal son of a bitch got one up on you.

You stilled when you heard footsteps coming up from behind you and then continued to throw punches at the bag.

“I don’t need a motivational speech right now.”

You said irritably, expecting either Barry or Cisco to give you one of their famous hallway talks.

Whilst you appreciated them, and often welcomed them, a hope speech was not what you needed right now.

“Wrong team.”

That definitely was not a voice belonging to Barry or Cisco.

You turned around and saw Laurel, lawyer by day and vigilante by night, Lance staring at you, watching you train.

You didn’t respond and instead went back to taking out your anger on the punching bag.

“Doesn’t your arm hurt?” Laurel spoke after a moments of silence.

You shrugged at Laurel’s question.

“Pain used to be the only thing I could count on but now…now everything’s numb.”

“I get that. After Sara died, I felt nothing but anger. I felt like I lost-”

“A part of yourself.” You finished as you stopped hitting the bag.

You glanced up to meet Laurel’s prying eyes and then refocused on punching the now wearing bag.

“I didn’t realise you had experience with loss.”

You laughed dryly as you continued hitting the bag with your boxing gloves, “Laurel, my entire life consists of loss.”

“Who did you lose?” Laurel asked delicately, now intrigued.

“Who didn’t I lose?” You rebutted. “My mother. My sister. Even my son of a bitch father.”

After each name, you hit the bag harder and harder until you felt one of your sutures blow and the blood trickling down your shoulder.

“Dammit.”

You muttered under your breath as you removed your boxing gloves and placed them on the metal table located near the punching bag.

Then you walked over to the small medicine cabinet situated in the corner of the room and grabbed everything you needed to redress the wound, including the small medical kit Caitlin insisted you have just in case.

“You know how to suture right?” You asked, unzipping your jacket and pulling it down so Laurel could properly clean the wound.

“I’m a vigilante who fights crime. Of course I know how to suture.”

She responded sarcastically as she began to wipe your wound with antiseptic and then started to restitch the wound.

“You’re not even flinching.” She said in surprise.

“Like I said, I’ve dealt with pain before.”

“When you were taken, you mean?” Laurel asked, pulling your stitches tight.

“I’m assuming Barry told you and Team Arrow everything?”

There was no malice to your words, just general curiosity.

“In his defence, he didn’t want to say much but you know how Oliver is.”

“It’s fine. If we’re working together, you should know whether I’m a liability or not, especially after I got shot.”

“Hey,” you turned your head so you could face Laurel, “so what if you got injured in the field? When I first took up the mantle as the Black Canary, I got my ass handed to me by a lot of assholes. Trust me, you’re not a liability.”

You smiled feebly and replied a grateful “thanks.”

“Who would have thought that we’d be working together as a vigilante and a meta-human?”

“How my life has become this, I have no idea.” You both laughed.

“There, done.” Laurel announced, pulling the last stitch tight.

“Thank you. Would have done it myself using my powers but I can’t exactly see the wound.”

You explained, discarding the wipes in the bin and putting the medical kit back in the cabinet.

“Why do you practice combat if you have powers?” She asked, her arms crossed.

“Can’t rely on powers. I mean, I know how to control them and everything, but there used to be a time in my life where I didn’t have them. And now, with all these metas, who’s to say that one of them can’t drain powers or take them away? Then what? I’d be vulnerable to attack.”

“Smart thinking.” She said impressed as she nodded in agreement.

“Afraid Team Flash doesn’t share that same sentiment. I do adore Barry but I keep telling him that he should learn hand-to-hand combat.”

“And Barry being Barry thinks he’s just fine with his speed.” Laurel finished.

“Exactly.” You laughed.

Your eyes narrowed, an idea coming into your mind. “Do you want to train with me now? I mean, we have time.”

Laurel opened her mouth as if to politely decline but you interrupted before she could.

“But if you don’t, that’s fine. I just-”

“No, I’d love to. Just…your powers.”

“What about them?”

“Don’t they give you an advantage?”

You lifted up your sleeves to show Laurel the bracelets around your wrists.

“Power dampening cuffs, courtesy of Cisco. Couldn’t use them even if I wanted to. Besides training without them is more worth while.”

Laurel removed her jacket and tied her hair into a ponytail.

“Well, a moving target is better.”

You went to the corner of the room and grabbed the large wooden sticks you often trained with.

“Definitely.”

You said, throwing one of the sticks to Laurel.

Laurel made the first move which you dodged with ease and then you turned to knock her off her feet. But before you could, Laurel blocked you and then you both officially began sparring with each other.

You were impressed with how quick Laurel was on her feet and she was intrigued with your fighting style, as it reminded her of the way Sara fought.

You hit Laurel’s stick and then quickly span, grabbing her arm and hooking your leg under hers, effectively throwing her to the mat.

“Damn,” she breathed out, her eyes moving from the staff you had against her throat, to you who was breathing just as heavily as she was.

You stared intently at each other for a few moments, your heavy breaths echoing throughout the room, before being interrupted by a stampede of footsteps.

“What the hell is going on in here?”

Both you and Laurel looked to the doorway where both Team Arrow and Team Flash stood, watching the two of you.

To them, it looked as if the two of you had gotten into a fight.

“Relax, Ollie. Y/n and I were just sparring. That’s all.”

You moved the stick away from Laurel and reached down to grab her hand so you could help her up.

“And she beat you? She must be good.”

Your eyes flickered over to the petite blonde who was standing next to Oliver.

“Not that you weren’t great before. I just meant that Laurel’s a good fighter. Obviously. Because she’s the Black Canary. Which you knew but I just-”

“Felicity, don’t worry,’ you interrupted her rambling.

“I know what you meant. And to answer your question, yeah, I totally beat the Canary’s ass.” You smirked.

“Hey! You didn’t beat me. You just-”

You raised an eyebrow in amusement. You were baiting her and it was totally working.

“Yeah, okay, whatever. You won.” She surrendered.

“Oh, I’m geeking out so hard. Y/s/n just beat Black Canary in a fight. God, if I could post about this on a blog somewhere, I so would!” Cisco rambled, making you and Laurel laugh.

“So do we have a plan yet?” You asked, changing the subject to more pressing matters.

“Yeah, but it’d be easier to explain when we’re in the cortex because we laid out a detailed game plan.” Caitlin answered.

“Well, then, let’s go.”

Everyone left the room and as you followed after them, you were stopped by a hand on your arm.

“Y/n, where’d you learn to fight like that?”

You looked back at Laurel, your brows narrowing.

“Different people taught me different things. Why?”

“The way that we sparred right now. It was how Sara and I sparred, even after she was resurrected, and it was a technique she learned from a group called the League of Assassins.”

Your eyes widened at the mention of Sara’s resurrection. You had heard rumours in the future of a place that could do that, a pit of some sort.

And the mention of the League also peaked your interest considering you had met a few members after escaping ARGUS.

“And you’re asking if I’m an assassin?”

“No, I’m-Yes. Yes, I am.”

“No, Laurel, I’m not an assassin. It would be a lie to say I’ve never killed anyone before but never on someone else’s orders.”

“But how-”

“I met a lot different people where I’m from, Laurel, some good, but mostly bad people. Or at least, that’s how we’re taught to think of them. The majority of the people I’ve met and learnt from were just trying to survive in a dystopia and when I encountered them, we were able to offer each other something. I help them get the agency off their backs and in exchange, I learn a few tricks or rack up a few favours.”

“Wow, there’s so much about you that people don’t know, isn’t there?” She said, interested.

“People don’t ask. So I don’t tell.”

“That’s lonely.”

“That’s life. It’s the way I’ve lived for almost a decade. Now, we better catch up with everyone else or they’ll wonder where we are.”

You decided to change the subject again,

“So your sister was resurrected? How does that even happen?”

“God, it’s a long story but basically…”

Laurel began explaining the situation to you as you both left the training room and followed both teams into the context so you could be debriefed on the plan.

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gobydana · 6 years

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Amazing Quotes from the comics

Below are some of my favorite quotes from each person. Sorry this list is long.

Bruce Wayne/Batman

- Death is powerless against you if you leave a legacy of good behind. Death is powerless against you if you do your job. My father saved the lives of over four thousand people, one at a time... with his bare hands and his mind. Death was with him the entire time.

- Clark, I'm sure anywhere you go in the universe, you'll find stupid people.

- You don't know how I question myself and everything I've become. The right of it. The wrong of it. Not allowing myself any reward for the good. Damning myself for every mistake. Thinking of everyone who's sacrificed themselves in my war. Everyone close to me. Everyone who cared.

- Our greatest glory is not in ever falling, but in rising every time we fall.

- Sometimes it’s only madness that makes us what we are.

Selina Kyle/Catwoman

- Live fast. Love hard. Die young. Leave a good-smelling corpse.

- A long time ago, before I put on this mask, I was afraid of everything

- "Your ex-lover, a murderous psychopath who has repeatedly made our lives a living hell, nearly burns my new home to the ground and all you can say is 'gross'?!

- Show a man what he expects to see, and he won't look beneath the surface.

Alfred Pennyworth

- I fear sometimes, dear boy, that if you don't give this up, you'll have nothing. You can't have darkness and light at the same time, Master Bruce..

- Everyone has a vulnerability

- Hnn. At least when Master Richard snuck out, he had the decency to construct a pillow dummy.

- Pirate Stories-why did I love them as a boy? Because at heart they're about children who rebel against their parents to create new lives for themselves. They're stories of defiance. But the trick is, when you look at them as a parent, you see, they're actually written as cautionary tales. The child comes home in the end, just before doom strikes the ship. But in this tale, Bruce, the one I've helped make for you, Batman...I worry it has gone on too long...that I've kept it going with you long past it's natural end. That's what I was screaming about when you were on the wrecked submarine. Not the ways you've failed me but the ways I may have failed you.

Kate Kane/Batwoman

- You coming? Or do I have to smash this bitch in the teeth all by myself?

- You think I'm afraid of you? Any of you? You gave me a bulletproof suit, you morons! What can you do to stop me?

- You will never get these years with her back, and a daughter needs her mom. I know I did. And I would've done anything to have more time with her. I can't be the reason for doing that to another kid. I can't

- So there is someone new in town ... Who the hell wears white?

Luke Fox/Batwing

- I really should lead with the knockout gas instead of conversation.

- You're leading me around through this nightmare like it's business as usual. Like I'm supposed to accept the supernatural. I accept it, okay? And now I'm going to kick its ass!

- This night sucks. And now I have no choice but to run and hide because "Mary Psycho Poppins" just handed me my ass.

Dick Grayson/Nightwing (including his time as robin)

- With you guys, it seems like I'm hot stuff … a know-it-all … but I've been back with The Batman again, and next to him I feel like I'm a stupid kid repeating fifth grade … for the third time.

- Try to understand our position here, Batman. You began training to be a hero as a young adult. For me and a lot of the other Titans -- like Vic -- that training shaped and influenced most of our childhood. Unlike the JLA, the Titans aren't just about a promise to the world -- it's also about a promise to each other … to ourselves. We swore on our childhood nightmares that we'd be there for one another. If I don't honor that I don't honor who I am.

- Sometimes I'm surprised I can even stand on a high ledge after what happened to the Flying Graysons. Boss Zucco could have sabatoged Haly's Circus any number of ways to drive down business and get his protection money. Instead he gave the crowd that night a show they'll never forget. I know I won't. When my mom and dad died, attendance actually went up.

- Okay Mom and Dad, your 'Flying Grayson' is about to take the great leap. Or as they say in French, Le Grand Saut. Down, down, and away. I'd say I wish you could see me now, but I know you're watching me - I can feel angels on my shoulders. And probably a bat too. You said some records aren't meant to be broken, Bruce. But more than anything, I wish you were down there right now watching with Alfred and Tim as I break this one.

- I had a good teacher, except for the interpersonal skills and the ability to work with others. That was me.

Barbara Gordon/Batgirl/Oracle

- A little over a year has passed since my old life ended, since I died and was reborn. The shadows remain, but only to give contrast to the light. I am no longer a distaff impersonation of someone else — I’m me, more me than I have ever been. I embrace it, and the light, with a deep, continuing joy.

- Gotham should be safe again. Well, until the next thing. There’s always another thing

- Wait for a hero? Barbara Joan Gordon -- Be your own damn hero

- I'll wake up, learn from my mistakes and ultimately win the fight. I always do.

Jason Todd (including his time as robin)

- I'll be damned if my best friend is going to die ... because he was dumb enough to trust me

- Someone tell me I'm not having a heart-to-heart with a reanimated assassin

- Trust? You...? I'll... give it a try, guys. But I'll tell you right now... I'm probably going to screw it up.

- I'm sorry, I'm never going to be the hero you want me to be. I have every confidence in you--that you'll stay the hero I know you are

Tim Drake/Red Robin (including his time as robin)

- The weight of the future... all of our futures... it just presses on me sometimes. And lately, it's been crushing, and I've been too afraid to ask for help. But I need to, Bruce. So this is me, asking for help.

- It’s not smart to blackmail the wrong people

- That’s what we are. Not just a team, but a family. One day we might be the Justice League, but for today we’re the Teen Titans.

- I had a plan. That plan just went to hell

Stephanie Brown/Spoiler (including her time as batgirl and robin)

- How come every time I try to do this different than Batman, I end up doing exactly what Batman would do?

- I am who I choose to be.

- I just watch two guys stealing TVs run into one another. Sadly, both televisions were lost... On the bright side, they'll each have a friend in jail.

- Here's the deal, I'm a 'punch first, ask questions later' kinda gal. Him? He's a stabber.

Cassandra Cain/Orphan (including her time as batgirl/black bat)

- I don't kill. But I don't lose, either.

- Gotham City. Gotham. City. That just... sounds right. Mailbox. Van. Razor. It's strange how naming... changes things. I've walked these streets... every inch of this city... but I never had the words. I never knew the names. Now... it's like it's all changed. All new. Or maybe... Maybe it's me that's changing.

- A special ability to predict my opponent's moves. That doesn't begin to describe it. Time... ran together. The future... blending... into the moment. A blink of an eye... the knife thrust that follows... both one. It was like... like I could predict my opponent's moves. Okay, that does describe it. But it doesn't do it justice.

Damian Wayne/Robin

- Father, I'm sure you'll be angry with me for disobeying you again but I don't care, I will not let you fight Leviathan alone. You need me and I will always be at your side. Because it will be hard for me to say these words face to face, I want you to know that Mother may have givenme life, but you taught me how to live. Love and respect your son Damian

- I don't want to end up like Ducard... without a moral compass... I don't want to turn into a NoBody... I want to be like you. I've always wanted to be like you.

- I'm sure you didn't leave your hole tonight thinking you'd get your ass kicked by a ten-year-old!

- I'm not the one in a ship filled with alien freaks, so how about shutting up and letting me work on keeping you safe, father!

Duke Thomas/Signal

- Someone told me that the problem with youth is the inability to accept your own mortality. I wouldn't consider this one of my problems

- Sometimes you're wrong. Sometimes there is a place for you at the table. Some mysteries may never be solved by you alone. Sometimes you don't have to prove yourself repeatedly -- because you're confident about your purpose. And sometimes you just have to get to work for everything to work out.

- not to mention you tire stealing genius, i’m not robin!

- My career of choice has crazy hours, bad benefits, and doesn't pay. But it's the dream I never knew I always had. Mom, dad... I'm going into the vigilante business. I hope I live to tell you all about it.

Harper Row/Blue bird

- I want training. Proper training. Tim's great at the tech stuff, but so am I. I want to know how to karate chop someone in the neck so their eyeballs pop out. I want to know the cool stuff.

- Sometimes all it takes is a few words to change your life. For me it took seven. Seven words, spoken in the dark.

- And you thought "Oh, Hey, I'm going to just talk to the scariest-looking bastard in the Narrows and see what he thinks"?

- I never had a choice - but only because this is what I want, more than anything. And I was going to do this. I've told you that, again and again

Jean-Paul Valley/Azreael

- You aren't asking if I'm okay, Lucas. You are asking if I can fight. I am angrier than I have ever been in my life, and I am sharing my mind with one murderous AI, and another one modeled off the world's most dangerous vigilante. Yes Lucas. I am ready to fight

- Nomoz...he’s the one who came for me...he’s the one who broke me. For the greater glory of God

Feel free to add onto this list. I would love to know everyone’s favorite quotes.

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alleiradayne · 6 years

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New Frame of Mind

For @inquisitor-julia‘s 2,000 Follower Giveaway, @geekyblackchic won 2nd Place, which was a 2,000 word one-shot written by yours truly. Congrats to @geekyblackchic! And thank you so much, @inquisitor-julia, for allowing me to participate in your giveaway!

New Frame of Mind

Ora Lavellan receives regular letters from her closest companions, and through their friendship, she finds hope for the future after the events at the Exalted Council.

Word Count: 2,721 (whoops!) Featuring: Ora Lavellan, memories of her companions Dorian, Cassandra, Cole, and Varric. Rating: SFW (some angst, some hope, and lots of coping)

A cool breeze rippled the canvas of Ora's tent, rustling the parchment in her hands and racing gooseflesh along her arms.

Wind. Wind between feathers, lifting, soaring, flying. The horizon stretches, reaching, tilting. You love to drift among the clouds but have forgotten how.

Ora recalled the once forgotten memory with stark clarity, Cole’s words resonating in her heart. Flight. She smiled with fond reverence as she remembered their conversation; Ora had not felt the wind buffet her wings in what had to be an age, a closed chapter in her book.

Difficult enough losing an arm, Ora Lavellan had lost more than that after the events of the Exalted Council. The anchor had exacted a high price, the least of which had been her limb. Fickle thing, magic. And most of all, shapeshifting. Such an intense form of transfiguration. Mages often transformed other objects, but those that mastered the art transformed themselves.

In the weeks following the Exalted Council, Ora struggled. And that struggle stretched for months. No shapeshifting. And no hunting wild game. Unreliable, her standard magic often destroyed most creatures. And failed shapeshifting left her terribly vulnerable. That loss had seeped into the depths of her very soul, leaving her hollow and empty, a shell of her former self.

Her memory continued as her thoughts wandered, manifesting in a cool autumn day not unlike today. Cole had found her alone on the high ramparts of Skyhold. His words resonated in her mind as if she sat there with him once again.

It’s not the arm that matters. The form you take doesn’t care how many arms you have. Spiders have twice as many limbs as us, but mages mimic all sorts of spiders, big and hairy, small and spiny. I like the fluffy ones with big eyes. The Witch's spider scares me…

A full belly laugh filled her tent as she recalled Cole’s cryptic words, but he had spoken the truth. Morrigan’s spider form was the stuff of nightmares.

Another breeze snatched at her letter, and her focus returned to Cole’s most recent letter.

You can have your wings again, soaring and sailing on the currents of the sky. The Fade eats limbs, but it never devours your dreams. It breathes life into your lungs, full and free to be whatever you wish.

Cole’s letters rarely lasted more than a few thoughts, always mysterious but never without purpose. They harkened background to a time when she had needed his wisdom and his compassion most.

I died, alone, cold, and terrified. But I never wanted to die, I wanted to live, to help, to keep others from feeling what I felt as the Fade took me away. Skyhold helped. Old and powerful, sleeping, slumbering, but waking with your presence. A spirit brought me to you and here I remain. To help.

He had helped, and in ways Cole would never understand. He believed in her when few others had, when even Ora doubted herself. And after Solas, after the Viddasala and the Exalted Council, Cole had been a beacon of hope, a sheer force of willpower that pushed her to try harder every time she failed.

Ora considered her missing appendage, now replaced by an ethereal, shimmering limb. Illuminating the canvas of her tent in a faint blue glow and casting sharp shadows in the far corners, she twisted the arm as if it were her own. A marvelous feat of magic. And for the first time, it felt like hers, whole, complete.

Despite the bitter memories, her companion’s letters tugged at her heart, lifting her spirits whenever she wandered lost in a forest of guilt. She shuffled through the papers, sending Cole’s to the back and finding Cassandra’s next.

Inquisitor It will take me an eternity to get used to addressing you without your title. And a part of me will always consider you the Inquisitor, even though the Inquisition no longer exists as it once did. It still pains me to recall the Council, how Ferelden and Orlais treated you. Considering the circumstances, I’d hoped they would see reason. But I shouldn’t be surprised.

I digress. How are you fairing? Have you found anything? I miss our conversations, your company. Maker, to think, the last we saw each other, you had nearly died…

But thanks to Cassandra, she had not. With years of battle under her belt, the Seeker had leapt into action the minute Ora had returned to Halamshiral. Cut off the infection, stop it in its tracks. But that meant losing part of her arm. The alternative was anything but.

I worry about you. I know you’re doing well, but I still ask. And while least important, I know it matters to you: how is your magic behaving?

Always practical, Cassandra broached a subject with less tact than a charging druffalo. But it drew a smile from Ora despite her choice of words, selflessness beyond measure. Cassandra put the needs of others before her own, most of all her friends. And she had put Ora first, above anyone, following the Exalted Council. Though that time had not lasted long, Cassandra’s resilience in the face of defeat proved invaluable.

Think of it as an opportunity. To start over. To learn again. To learn a new way. If Varric has taught me anything these last fifteen years, it’s that there’s always a better way.

And she had been right. The loss of her arm had forced Ora to relearn everything she understood about magic. Though unpleasant, it had been worth every minute she had struggled, for now, Ora’s magic rivaled that of the most powerful mages. And she had Cassandra, as well as Cole, to thank for that.

Not to mention Dorian. The next letter in her stack bore the seal of the Tevinter magister. And to think, not five years prior, any letter with that seal would have instilled fear and panic into any recipient. But in those five years, Magister Pavus had paved the way for a new Tevinter, starting with his humble beginnings in the Inquisition.

My Dearest Ora, I hope this letter finds you, first, and if it does, it finds you well. I appreciate all your work on improving our sending crystals, and when I next see you—most likely not in Tevinter—you’ll have mine for the work it requires.

True, their sending crystals provide futile after several months of use. Ora’s initial investigation revealed attunement issues, the bond between the pair of crystals fading over time. She had made improvements to her own but required Dorian’s to finish the process, permanently linking the two for good.

Which reminds me, you might want to stay away from Tevinter for a time. Locals, including other magisters, have noticed a large grey eagle that they are claiming has graced our skies as some sort of good omen. As pleased as I am to see you back in fighting shape, I worry the magisters are getting the wrong idea. Which isn’t surprising, and it won’t be the last time they take the most far-fetched idea away from something as mundane as a fucking bird. No offense, of course, my dear.

And of course, Ora took none. How could she? Dorian’s strict retraining efforts had been as important, if not more, than his support. Though not trained in the fine art of shapeshifting, Dorian understood the mechanics of magic, the intricacies of balance between not only raw elements, but of power and control as well. Where most mages followed written formulae and studied books, Dorian concocted his own brand of magic with exquisite detail, a creativity Ora found necessary given her physical and mental state after the Exalted Council. Dorian’s words replayed in her mind as if he stood beside her.

I cannot imagine what you’re going through, Ora. Few mages ever face what are staring down at this present moment. All challenges aside, I believe that you are more than capable of relearning all you once knew, and more. But it will take time

What you now lack in physical form must be balanced with mental acuity and power. Your elements are disjointed as well and will require recalibration, but be cautious here. One miscalculation and you could find yourself completely fucked. This will not be easy, but lucky for you, I’ve been fabricating magic most of my life, and there aren’t many better at it than I, if do say so myself. I would one day see you surpass me.

Though that education had lasted only months, Ora learned everything she could. But before long, Tevinter had called and Dorian had left Skyhold. And their brief time together at the Exalted Council fell short of fulfilling by leagues. It had been his final words before departing that had meant more than she had realized in the moment.

You did the right thing, Ora. You always do. Trust yourself. Believe, as we do, in you.

Another smile lingered on her lips before Ora returned to Dorian’s letter. He wrote of change in Tevinter, of subtle plans and less than subtle scheming. And, as always, he left her with another professional piece of advice on redesigning magic for her differently-abled body.

The hand might help you feel whole again, but never forget it is not real. It may feel real, and it may even look real beneath a sleeve and glove. But it is not. And that is okay. Use that to your benefit. Imagine the look on your assailant’s face when he thinks he’s got your wrist but then poof! It’s gone and you’re sprinting down the street.

Leave it to Dorian to think of a practical benefit to lacking a wrist. But he had a point.

Don’t forget, your magic is yours alone. Use it as you see fit.

“I will, Dorian.”

His letter found the bottom of the stack as Ora moved to the next piece of parchment. There, the sigil of House Tethras bound the folded stock, red wax pressed with a neat stamp. She popped the seal free and read.

Hey, Shifty. Been a while. This Viscount nonsense keeps me busy. You knew that already. But it doesn't keep me busy enough that I couldn't write more often. Sorry about that.

He apologized in every letter, never excusing himself or asking for forgiveness. Not that he had done anything that required her forgiveness. He wrote her more often than any of her friends, and at once a week, Ora mused he wished he had the time to write her every day.

I hadn’t heard anything out of the ordinary lately. Thought you might have quit searching, gave up. But a rumor cropped up this week and well… life is stranger than fiction, as they say. So, here’s me asking if you’ve been flying around Tevinter the last month or so.

Ora laughed again, relishing Varric’s surprise as another rumor of her grey eagle circling Tevinter reached his ears. Creators, but she’d never meant for the tale to grow so tall. Or long. An eagles’ penchant for circling and excellent eyesight provided the perfect cover for searching. How anyone had blown such a trivial and mundane event so out of proportion never ceased to amaze her.

If so, I’m happy to hear you’re flying again. Nothing pained me more than the months after the Exalted Council. I was of no help. Definitely not with magic. I'm handy with a quip here and there, but even my words failed me. Shit, you’d think I’d be better at it but, I’m terrible. Writing drama was never my strong suit. Forget helping a real person suffering something as difficult as you did.

“Oh, Varric,” Ora started, “you helped in ways you'll never know."

He'd been the first to console her and the last to leave Skyhold. Varric's keen sense of the mortal condition disputed his letter; while his books might contain the utmost contrived of narratives, his words and his company had lifted her from the darkest depths of her fall.

You can't keep sleeping all day, Shifty. Trust me, I've tried. The weeks after Bartrand... had it not been for Hawke, I'm not sure where I'd be right now. Probably crazy as Bartrand.

Most mornings following the Exalted Council had started the same way, Varric climbing the steps to her room and sitting on the chaise until Ora found the drive to get out of bed. Sometimes he brought breakfast, other times sweet pastries. And with each conversation—wherein Varric talked at length and Ora listened—the sun rose a little brighter each morning.

When was the last time you even tried to shapeshift? I know I'm talking out of my ass here, I know shit about magic. But seriously, when was the last time you even tried? How do you know it'll be terrible? And even if it is terrible, so what? Get back on the horse. Just because you fell off doesn't mean you can't get back on it. Granted, missing half an arm might make that a little harder. But you find a new way, right? Instead of getting on from the left side, get on from the right.

That had been the last morning Ora slept in past sunrise. With a newfound sense of determination, she had set out to relearn everything, challenges be damned.

And now, two years past, Ora sat in her tiny canvas tent, the whispering of Harvestmere crisp on the cool dawn breeze. Varric's letter meandered as it so often did, hopping from subject to story to scandal as quick as a frog leaped lily pads. And in closing, he bid her good luck in her search and, as always, to write more often.

With the final letter finished, Ora added them to the growing stack in her leather-bound folder. Secured from the elements, she cherished those messages sent from every corner of Thedas in the capable hands of Leliana's scouts. Alone, they kept her company, and on darker days when her mood sank and her magic still struggled to cooperate, she reread them. There she found courage, willpower. An unmistakable drive to carry on, however wayward she might have become.

As they days grew shorter, Ora spent as much time as possible in the sunlight. But that morning, she had burned enough time on letters she might have otherwise read by candle light. Except on days like these, when the creeping hints of malaise teased the fringe of her subconscious, her mental health took priority over all else.

Ora crawled from her tent, another day of hope and promise ahead of her. A rustle of leaves scattered across her campsite as the wind gathered momentum, building in a sudden rush of gusts and lashes that grasped at her robes. That wind encircled her, pressing closer until a tight swirl of air encased her in a protective shell.

Fear loomed. Doubt reared. Imbalance threatened. Every failed attempt, every botched shape, every crumpled figure since the Crossroads crushed her spirit in that interstitial space between thoughts. She would fail again, as she had so many times before. And she would be left vulnerable, alone with no one to defend her should she need it. The racing thumps of her heart beat a frantic rhythm against her ribs as if to escape, as if to burst from her chest and abandon the terror that pained her so. Creators, why? Why had they abandoned her with such hopelessness? What had she ever done to deserve such a fate? Her vision blurred, tears gathering from the wind or from the alarm bound so tight in her chest, Ora was unsure. Tension grasped every muscle in her body, wrenching and writhing to be free of the trepidation that plagued her. Breath sucked from her lungs in terrified gasps, too much, not enough. Dizzy, spinning, the world tilted, turned, twisted...

It had lasted but a second, the amalgamation of her fears fading to tiny specs in the distance like the trees beneath her beating wings. Higher and higher, Ora climbed for the clouds, the wind racing between her feathers once more. And in that ascent, in that effervescent transcendence, Ora soared.

Fear faded. Doubt receded. Balance restored.

And there, far off in the distance, lay Tevinter. Ready. Waiting.

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#my writing #dai #fanfic #lavellan #ora lavellan #not my oc #inquisitor-julia #geekyblackchic

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