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one day i am gonna grow wings

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easter lillies

word count: 2.6k

summary: you thought he wasn't too big on the soulmate thing.

"OW," You hiss as you jolt awake, a sting in your ribs. A flurry of flowers blooms where your soulmate's wound was, making you grimace as you look in your mirror. It's the fifth bruise this week. It really makes you wonder what kind of nonsense your soulmate was up to. It was almost as if they were one of those vigilantes your friends were screaming over. To be fair, you like them too, and he was technically one before.

You like them a normal amount... whatever the hell that means.

You pop a painkiller as you go back to sleep, the rest of your night going undisturbed.

You wake up with seven more flowers sewn across your upper back. But you've grown used to it,  the flowers all treated as some tattoo on your skin, your skin showing where it needs to be, hidden where you don't want it shown. You would prefer that your soulmate didn't have bruises all over his skin, but it made him easier to identify. Well, it made you easier to identify. The flowers all over your skin are more eye-catching than any clothes you wear.

The flowers have been a part of you for as long as you can remember.

At seven, you shrieked when you woke up with flowers all over your legs and skin, sobbing as your parents tried explaining that it was just marks from your soulmate's skin and not some magical demon who had tattooed flowers all over your body.

Somewhere on your soulmate, they have a red flower on their ring finger, a mole you grew up with.

"Iced latte with oat milk!" 

You reach for the cup, pressing the cup to your lips as you head off.

You hiss as a flower blooms on your finger. Seriously? A papercut?

You grimace, exhaling slowly as you press the coffee back to your lips, agitated.

Truth was, you knew who your soulmate was. He was a dead man. Your mother brought home a photo of a young boy around your age, Bruce Wayne's second son, an autopsy done on his body, scars matching your flowers, and you begged her to see him. His funeral wasn't open to the public, but you had shown them the flowers all over your body and how you heard his body was wounded beyond repair, and then finally the autopsy scar you had on your own body, and they let you in. You didn't feel sad that he died. You didn't know him.

but you mourned over what the two of you could have been.

just.

a little.

You didn't ask for anything from Bruce, just a couple of moments to stare at him through the open coffin, checking his ring finger for your red flower, expression falling when you remembered how many flowers were scattered across your body. His name was Jason— Bruce told you. He liked reading books and talking to his teachers, he liked tinkering with cars and his older brother. You were told everything about the boy, his diary given to you as a memorial. 

"Jason would have wanted you to have this." Bruce had said.

You doubt Bruce would have given it to you had he known Jason was documenting all of his adventures as Robin in it. You didn't tell Bruce, you didn't tell your parents, you didn't tell anyone. The boy was dead and you knew it.

At seventeen on a random morning, a new flower bloomed around your ankle. A green one on your heart, and a blue one on your ankle.

You would have passed it off as an error in the universe had you not been screaming in pain when the green one bloomed. You were rushed to the hospital and sedated in tears, the burn too much for you. When you woke up, a blue one on your ankle had formed too, and you were told that your soulmate must be alive. Whether it be from this universe or another, your soulmate was back.

It made you sick to no end. 

That meant that Jason, that poor boy, was resurrected like some science experiment.

Nowadays, you spend your time sorting through papers in Bruce's company, drinking expensive coffee, working a job that you got through connections. Bruce had given it to you without second thought. No one likes sorting through legal documents and risking getting fired because of a single mistake without some sort of insurance. You just wanted a house to live in. You get bored these days. Sometimes when you see a worker's soulmate visit them, you wonder what it would be like if Jason were still alive.

Well, alive legally.

It's kind of hard to find a man that's legally dead but technically alive.

Bruce hasn't told you shit either, and according to Jason's diary... he probably wouldn't tell you anything unless you dragged yourself down to the Batcave yourself. 

and that? you don't plan on.

You settle with working on papers until it's 5, pausing when you notice something that definitely did not belong with the rest of the pile. You don't want to know what the paper was doing in a pile of business documents, but it's not your problem. You should probably get them to Bruce.

You find the rest of the document in the pile and mumble to yourself, dialing the home phone.

"Hello?"

"Alfred." You exhale in relief. "Bruce left um... papers in the office that don't belong here and I don't think they can be shredded... could I send it to the mansion right now?"

"Would you like to stay for dinner?"

"Oh, no. I'll head home after, but I appreciate the thought." You smile. "I'll head over right now."

"I shall bring you some cookies, then."

"Oh... I won't say no to that." You laugh. "See you in twenty."

In retrospect, showing up to Wayne Manor right before sunset was probably not the smartest thing you've ever done, but it isn't exactly the worst thing you've done either. You ring the doorbell and blink in surprise at the sight of... who is this?

"You are?"

"I'm here to hand Alfred some personal files that Bruce got mixed up into the business ones." You tilt your head. "You are?"

"Just call me Jay." He nods. "Alfred's in the kitchen. Should I take you there?"

"Please do." You nod. 

"So who are you?"

"Um, I sort through files in the office. Are you one of Bruce's kids?"

"You're really close with the old man, huh?"

"Not really." You mumble. "You use the connections you have in life when you get lazy."

"Why not just have him fund you?"

"I'm not holding his dead son over his head for something like that." You grumble. "How are you related to him?"

The man's lip quirks up in amusement. "I'm one of his dead sons."

"One? He has more than one dead son?"

He shrugs. "Alfred. The little aide is here."

"My apologies for not greeting you at the door. I shall take the papers from you." He nods. "Here are your cookies."

"Thank you, Alfred." You smile. 

"Master Jason, could you take them back?"

You freeze, staring up at him. "You're Jason?"

"In the flesh." He smiles. "Nice meeting you, soulmate."

You blink at him slowly. "Wow, for a zombie, you look real good."

"Thank you."

"If someone sleeps with you, does that make it necrophilia?"

"I wouldn't go that far, doll." Jason raises a brow at you.

You shrug. "Thank you, Alfred. I'll get going now."

"Will we see you around?"

"Not unless Bruce gets his papers messed up again."

Jason sends you out, but neither of you really talk to each other. He doesn't ask, so you don't give. Besides, it's not as if you could date someone... dead, or something. You're not quite sure what to make of Jason. Well, not like you had to live with him. If your soulmate died once, you're sure you can live another day without seeing him.

Except he can't.

You wake up at 2 with a giant flower in your stomach area, and you shove a painkiller down your throat, heaving as you down as much water as possible to try and speed up the pill's effect, your head spinning. Jason probably got stabbed or something. You don't want to know, but you find that you don't have much of a choice when Dick shows up at your door with Jason in his arms, and you grimace. 

"Sorry for abusing your care, but—"

"If I had a dime for each time I've had to wrap up a bleeding man, I'd be as rich as B." You grumble. "What is it this time? Does he need stitches? Is the mansion too far?"

"Too far."

"I'm fine." Jason coughs. "I can make it back."

"Yeah, with a wound like that? I think the fuck not." You wince as you peel his jacket off, revealing a large gash. "I thought you wore armor?"

"Stabbed through. Human inventions do nothing against foreign forces." Dick mumbles, finding your kit.

You catch as Dick tosses you the first aid kit. "You're paying rent for me this month." You deadpan, resting Jason on your knees as you sterilize a needle. "Any pieces inside the wound?"

"Nothing."

"Scream if you need to." You start on the wound, making haste as Jason throws his head back, gasping as you pierce through his skin to sew it back together. The feeling has long been normalized in your skin as you finish and tie the thread. You wrap the wound, helping Jason sit up when you're done. You look up at Dick, and he sighs.

"We'll cover costs for this month."

"Thank you." You get up. "Anything else?"

"B said you can skip work for the rest of the week." He pauses. 

Right. It's not like B would tell it to your face, but his kids were not slick when it came to crashing your place to get wounds fixed up. You don't know how the word got to them that you had taken a mock-surgery class in high school, but they did not spare you when it came to wound dressing. You don't even know how Robin had managed to find your address when you moved out. Sure, Dick was older than Jason and probably found out somehow, but Robin? Seriously?

"Alright. Now get out."

"What would your coworkers think if they saw you like this?"

"Um... I don't care." You smile. "out."

"Jaybird, aren't you glad your soulmate knows how to close wounds?" Dick sighs. "We're crashing the couch."

"Then don't be loud." You give him a thumbs up. "I'm sleeping. The wound hurts."

"Will do." He nods.

You lock your door as you go back to bed, turning off your alarms as your back hits the mattress, knocking out. 

The sun hits your eyes in the morning when you wake, and the smell of butter flutters through the room as you sit up, slightly confused before remembering Dick brought Jason to your apartment last night. You appreciate that they at least get rid of the suits before knocking on your door. Besides, you think Dick only brought Jason to you and not a safehouse was because you're his soulmate. Soulmates be dammed, you want at least one week where you aren't patching up someone from the Waynes unmasked.

"Good morning." You mumble.

"Morning." Jason nods. "I made breakfast as a thank you."

"Thank you." You mumble. "You'll need a couple of days with a wound like that."

"Did it hurt?"

You raise a brow at him, pressing your mug to your lips.

"What?"

"The wound."

"No. It didn't." You deadpan. "No shit, of course it did."

"I saw... painkillers scattered across the apartment."

"Yeah." You answer him as if it's the most normal thing in the world. It isn't. It's not supposed to be. Jason knows that much. It's not. You know it too. No average person has painkillers scattered across the apartment like decoration. "Why?"

"Is it because I get injured so much?"

You snort.

"No. It's obviously because I got beat to death by a crowbar and had to get sent to the hospital because I didn't die from it, I only felt every single wound inflicted on my body and had to live with it since I'm immortal and all." You roll your eyes. "Oh, not to mention that I frequent the hospital so much that the workers there all know me by name. Oh, don't even get me started on how the pharmacists don't even need me to hand them a prescription anymore. And!!! I'm not even going to think about the fact that almost every inch of my body has been covered in flowers at some point. Though, the autopsy pattern is a great conversation starter at raves." You trail off.

Jason's eyes trail down to your stomach peeking through your shirt.

The guilt. The guilt eats him alive.

"Can we start over?" He blinks slowly. "I... I'm sorry."

"If you're really sorry, you can pull out of the vigilante business." You shrug. "I don't want a sorry. I want less tattoos and less painkillers consumed."

"You seem used to this."

"I woke up with twelve flowers across my back when I turned seven." You pause. "since then, it's been normal to wake up with a couple of new ones... save for the years you were dead."

"Ah." Jason blinks slowly. "I'm sorry. I can't stop."

"I know." You mumble. "Just... stay safe."

"I'll keep that in mind."

But it bites you in the ass as more flowers bloom across your skin, even if they're no longer painful. Small bruises, doses of pain that you've grown used to, doses of pain that no longer affect how your day goes, doses of pain that no longer matter to you. You appreciate that he isn't breaking bones anymore. You sleep through the night much more these days. 

But you don't see Jason.

You wonder...

nope. not possible.

WRONG!

You tilt your head as Dick smiles sheepishly at your door again. This time, he's the one bleeding.

"Sorry, too far away from the mansion, and Dickhead insisted on visiting." Jason explains. "He's not dying. He just needs some ice."

"You'd think he's impossible to be harmed, huh?" You let the two in. "So? Are you leaving by car?"

"We'll figure it out." 

You lay Dick on the couch as you wince at the bruises on his body. "You must really hate your soulmate."

"She hates me too. We're even." Dick smiles.

"I don't doubt that." You mumble. "Seriously." You dress his wound, sighing. 

There's an elephant in the room. Now you forgot whether or not Dick knows you know he's Nightwing.

Maybe he does..? You don't remember, and you're too tired to ask.

"I'm kicking you out after this."

"You let us stay when Jaybird was hurt but not when I am?" Dick gasps in faux offense.

"You're not my soulmate. Shoo."

Dick sighs dramatically as Jason takes him out, and you toss Jason your car keys.

"Drive him back."

"Will do. I'll get it back to you tomorrow."

"Take your time. I don't need to get anywhere anyway."

Jason is... strange. You're not used to his presence around you. 

He drops by your place with every single excuse in the book— he's got a bruise, he's out of eggs, he's hungry, he got a free drink from the store and thought of you. You don't know. Quite frankly, the fact that Jason dropped by so often was concerning. What the hell was he even doing? You thought he didn't like soulmates.

"I brought—"

"I set the table already." You sigh, letting him in. "I thought you didn't like soulmates?"

"It may have..." Jason goes quiet, last word coming out as incoherent mumble.

"Hm?"

"May have grown on me." He whispers. 

You blink at him slowly, eyes wide as you stop to stare at him.

"What."

"The whole... soulmates thing." He swallows, suddenly feeling shy. "Grew on me."

Your cheeks grow warm as you stare at him with wide eyes, heart racing in your chest. "It grew on you?"

"It grew on me."

"Yeah?"

Jason smiles. "So I'd like to..."

"Better be worth it, corpse boy."

"I promise." Jason whispers. "I promise."

Idia drabble, fluff, lots of couple banter

Your wishlist containing released games is empty.

In the next several minutes after saving a title to one, you can expect a notification that the game is getting downloaded, and a mere seconds after that—several messages from your boyfriend.

“thought u would never play it lol”

“weren't you supposed to be studying??”

He sends a meme degrading your hierarchy of values as if he were any better. It is followed by a request.

“stream it to me when you play it”

And you do, after thanking him yet chiding him for wasting too much money on you without a second thought. His reply was a string of emojis and guarantee that he is doing it all for himself, because “educating you on the topic of latest games is his duty” and he cares about “the boyfriend points”.

“I hope my love’o’meter for u was broken by all that pampering lmao”

“waiting for my cg to load up…”

[NAME]: “not enough affection points”

“damn”

“i need a walkthroughyt to this route”

Idia has you join a voice channel, with you sharing your screen. Playing a game in a separate dorm is a whole different experience than having him beside you, with his hands almost trembling to grab your controller if you couldn’t get past a certain level.

He would always wait for you to ask him for help, though. Then he could let the feeling of self-satisfaction sink in as he easily guided your character to another enemy to slash.

If he only has you on the voice chat, you might be able to finish the game almost fully by yourself.

You can hear the soft sound of his keyboard as he plays something as well. He divides his attention between you and his entertainment, and he throws in commentary to your playthrough, teasing you when you can’t find a secret key to the special gate, bullying you when you find the puzzles too hard, or when you pick the wrong dialogue option.

At some point, you might try to (playfully) mute his microphone, but you can only have eight seconds of silence before he hacks into the options.

“No need to be jealous of my gaming knowledge,” he exclaims, and you know he has that big stupid grin on his face. You huff, and he hums. “But if you want me to help, all you need to do is just ask.”

“I want to go through this game myself!”

“Okay, sure. But you know you have already missed the opportunity for the best ending, no?” He laughs. “That’s what you get for muting me, kitten.”

No need to spoil the ending just to get back at me, you’d love to say, but you learned that the shy boy who couldn’t hold your gaze several months ago is actually a big tease. You must’ve grown too much on him, as he would have continued the bickering even if you showed up in his room. No social anxiety towards you—that’s a bit of a shame, he was cute when you first started dating.

…Well, Idia you know now is a cutie as well, even if he can be very annoying sometimes.

“Enough. I’m going to play my otome games, bye.”

You log out, and shut the stream, chuckling all the time. A funny feeling tingled your heart, like always when you won (or have you?) in banter in Idia: your heart is warm enough to probably melt through the ribcage, but a subtle alarm rings in your head. Idia will probably take revenge for this.

He must already be in distress. He doesn’t like you playing otome games alone, as if you could have ever preferred a 2D boy over Idia. The thought makes you laugh.

You plop on your bed, unlocking your phone and tapping an icon of the name game you’ve installed. Although playing it with Idia would have been funnier, you are going to play him just out of spite.

…And after that, you will send him a wall of text about those handsome characters, because he needs to be updated on your current obsessions.

The title screen appears before everything crashes and the screen goes black. Several messages in neon-blue futuristic font colour appear one by one.

An error has occurred.

Caught exception:

Traceback (most recent call last):

File “characters”, line 46, in script

File “stats”, line 153, in script

File “story”, line 665, in script

File “achievements”, line 411, in log.1

File “backup_data”, line 139, in log

To continue:

“[Name]-san. Please come to our dorm. My brother is moping (so he won’t be finishing his project anytime soon, which is, really bad) and I would appreciate you having mercy on him.

Once you come, I will restore your data! It’s a promise :>

— ORTHO”

…Damn those Shrouds.

Reblog if ANNUS

Ignore if STUPID

Soulmate Au with Dick Grayson where the last words they specifically say to YOU are on your wrist. THIS IS HURT/NO COMFORT! There will be no happy ending, so suffer with my thoughts!

'I understand.'

Those are the words that have been on Dick Grayson's wrist since the moment he was born

His parents told him it was most likely going to be said at the end of a long and happy life with his soulmate

When he became Robin, he worried it would be a one time interaction with a citizen before he wasn't able to save them

But when he became Nightwing, he stopped worrying about it and began to live his life to be grateful for all his interactions

He had always asked what everyone's words from their soulmate was when he got close enough to them, having deep conversations with each of them

He was always interested by Alfred's the most. He had two different sets of words on his wrist when everyone else only had one

"It appeared after they had died. A small reminder of the time we had together."

Dick had found that amazing, one would have the reminder of who their person was even after death separated them

At some point after Dick leaving to become Nightwing, Bruce had taken in you in

You had been raised by the Joker after he kidnapped you at the age of 9 to take over as the worst villain of Gotham when he ultimately died

Bruce explained that you had openly denounced the Joker and his views before switching sides

With no other place to go, Bruce had taken you in when you had no place of your own

Even after time had passed, Dick noticed that you didn't spend much time around the other. He never saw you leave the manor except for going on patrol

The most peculiar thing was you had a bandage that went around your wrist where your words were supposed to be

Dick tried starting conversations to get to know you, but you always found a way to get out of them

The most personal thing about you that he could seem to get was these little notebooks you would randomly write in

When he asked about them, you shot him down with a glare

"It's personal, wonder bitch. So back off."

Dick didn't understand why Bruce was still putting up with the same attitude for so long without snapping

He was always told to just give you some space and you would come around when you were finally ready to

Dick never took a liking to how you handled the vigilante business. He thought you weren't focused on keeping the citizens safe and only wanted to make the bad guys hurt more than anything

You always told him to get off your back when he pushed on how you should be more cautious about how to do the job

He started to become frustrated by being around you with how much you pushed back with every word he said, but he still tried to be pleasant

More time had passed and you still didn't really warm up to any of them, but you weren't as hostile with your words

You mostly stuck to your room so you didn't actually have much difference in the previous interactions with everyone

Dick still couldn't shake off the frustration though, no matter how hard he tried to be understanding and polite to you

One day when you had told Dick to 'fuck off to the sewers' after he had accidentally walked into and spilled your drink on your shirt, he was very tempted to yell out as you walked away

Jason quickly stepped in and stopped Dick before he could actually blow up over the attitude you kept displaying

"Dick, you don't entirely understand-"

"That shouldn't matter! They keep acting like-!"

"Like The Joker has raised them to think in a way of 'be useful or you will be killed'. We don't know what he could have done for all those years. We don't even know what life was like before Joker forced his way into the picture. Not everyone was born into loving families. Remember that."

Dick had tried to take Jason's words into consideration as the next few months progressed

You never expressed any form of appreciation to what Bruce or Alfred seemed to do for you. You would mostly just spend time alone around the manor, occasionally sitting around with Jason

The only time Dick seemed to see you express any emotion was when you would randomly write in the notebooks before putting it back in your pocket

Frustration and agitation kept getting bottled up the longer Dick watched the whole situation continue on

It was getting close to a big bust on some plan a couple of the villains had joined together for temporarily to make it successful

It was the end of patrol as Bruce was explaining what everyone's job was going to be for the following night so they could prepare themselves throughout the day

Bruce had mentioned that Damian would be working alongside Jason, and you had mumbled some comment about that

Dick had finally had enough as he looked over and asked what the problem was

You rolled your eyes before saying that Damian wouldn't be able to handle himself with the combined strength everyone would be against with everyone stretched so thin

Dick pushed as he argued that Damian had taken care of himself in worst situations and you should mind what you were claiming about them

Bruce tried to to get the both of you to calm down, but Dick kept pushing as he argued you didn't really know them or what they could do

You clenched your fist while arguing that the precious boy wonder didn't even have a full understanding of what the criminals of the city were actually capable of

Dick finally felt his anger reach the boiling point as be finally began yelling at you

It soon became a screaming match as Jason held Dick back while Bruce got between the two of you as Tim guided Damian out of the area

The anger kept getting worse for Dick as he was finally letting out all the pent up feelings from the past few months of watching you push back against everyone

"This way of thinking is going to be what gets you killed! And when it finally catches up to you, I'm not going to feel sorry for you dying!"

You suddenly become very silent as you just stare at Dick with a deep glare as Bruce raises his voice to make Dick calm himself down

"I understand." The venom is in your voice as you turn around and march out of the Batcave

Dick doesn't truly register the words as he and Bruce start to get in it about how Dick went too far and would need to apologize

Dick huffs as he pulled out of Jason's hold before walking off to go to his room to get some rest

As he walked through the manor, Dick saw Tim and Damian both waiting for him with confused look as they asked what happened

Dick assured them it was nothing they needed to worry themselves with before going to his room

Dick was surprised that you hadn't tried making the day hard for him in retaliation of what was all said

Your door had never opened an inch though the whole day after the fight had happened

The day was eerily calm in a way that made Dick slowly begin to regret what was said. He knew Bruce was right about apologizing, but decided the anger might make you focus on getting the job done and would talk to you tomorrow when patrol was done

Night had come and Bruce had changed the groups so Dick was with Tim while you paired up with Jason

Damian had said he didn't want to be on the mission due to an important test the next day he needed to pass, though everyone was certain it was a lie

No one argued as they got ready for the fight that was going to come before going to the streets of Gotham

The bust had gone down at midnight as everyone had fought to take down as many people they could with the minimum getting away

Everyone had a few scratches as they all helped get the criminals in the transport

Bruce was talking with Gordon when Dick noticed you standing a ways off from everyone else looking confused for some reason

He began to slowly walk over with the intention of apologizing with all the anger and adrenaline slowly fading

The ground shook as Killer Croc suddenly appeared while getting between you and everyone else

None of them could stop it as you got hit and went flying in the air

Dick went to try and subdue Killer Croc before getting hit back into the wall

He felt a pain in his wrist as his arm hit the bricks as the sound of shattered glass sounded from the building you got thrown through

Bruce and Jason were able to get Killer Croc subdued as Tim went over to Dick to make sure he was fine

Dick quickly brushed off the pain in his arm, saying he was fine as he went to the building with the shattered window to go and check on you

He saw you at the far end of the room with your back to him. Dick called out asking if you were okay as he cautiously stepped inside

He thought you were in a daze when you didn't respond. Being mindful of the glass, Dick kneeled down as he placed his hand on your shoulder

"I know you're mad, but this isn't fun-"

The words escape him as he gently pulled you onto your back. Your head still facing the direction you had landed in as the rest only turned slightly with the effort

Dick could only stare for a minute before his hand went to hold the cheek pressed against the floor

The small cracking of your neck that came when he turned your head made Dick's stomach churn

Small pieces of glass stuck out of your skin as your unfocused eyes stared at the ceiling now. A trail of blood flowing down your cheek from your barely parted lips

Dick had to stop himself from throwing up as he got back up and walked into the street

Dick held Tim back when he tried to go in and check on you. When asked what was wrong, Dick could only shake his head as Bruce came up to them

Dick could barely register anything as he watched them put the gurney you were on in the back of the medical examiner's van

They all got promised your body would be treated with the upmost respect until the time for your burial

The journey back was quiet as everyone processed what happened to you when they had thought it was safe

Dick had went to go take a shower to wash of the pressure he felt in his hands from where he had touched your body

He noticed the blood on his wrist when he had removed his shirt in the bathroom

He rinsed a rag with cold water before wiping the blood away to find a sight that made his blood run cold

'This way of thinking is going to be what gets you killed! And when it finally catches up to you, I'm not going to feel sorry for you dying!'

'I understand.'

The words looked like they had just been carved into his wrist with how fresh the new words appeared and the small bit of blood still seeping out of his skin

His thoughts went back to the fight when he had hit the wall. His arm didn't hurt because he was smacked into the wall

It had hurt because that was the moment you had died

Dick couldn't think of who he could confide in with this sudden news. Especially because he had been so cruel to you when you last spoke to one another

How could he have been so cruel to not even think of apologizing before the mission? The last think he said was how he wouldn't care if you died

But you had always known it would be that cruel. You were born with those careless shouts as a mockery on your skin since the first cry

While he grew up with thoughts of comfort over what he might have with his soulmate, you never got that when you saw those words

You had grown up in a world of torture by the hands of one of the cruelest men in all of Gotham, and his words couldn't even give you a sense of comfort over the torturous treatment you went through

It had been a couple of weeks since you had tragically passed away, and Dick found himself in the doorway of your room

He didn't know why he was even here, what he would even try to find, but he was there

The room didn't have too many decorations around as he went in, as if you never tried to find your own style

The clothes in the drawers and closet were like taunts as he touched the fabric (most were soft, so he figured that was a texture you liked)

A candle in your nightstand drawer had never been lit, but the cap had been repeatedly removed (he found that it smelled like flowers during a rainstorm. You must have liked that kind of smell)

There were a few books on the small desk you had with a handful of notes and letters scattered around (it looked like you had been trying to catch up on the education you missed out on)

After some time of looking around, Dick sat at the foot of the bed. He quickly realized something was wrong when his weight pressed on the mattress

He untucked the covers (why would you have been so neat with making the bed?) to find that a small section of the padding had been cut out from a small hole in the bottom

Dick reached his hand in to find the hiding spot of all the small notebook you had written in

He slowly flipped through the pages as he read the neat handwriting that you had

Alfred made a different kind of cookie today. I really like this kind

Jason and I watched a documentary on dinosaurs. The raptors seem the coolest

I glanced at the moon during patrol last night. It was the cresent phase. I think I like that one most

The more Dick looked through them, the more he realized you were distant because you were realizing things about yourself. You were figuring out years of information in such short time, you were probably getting overwhelmed with all this information you were learning

His eyes stop on one small bit you had written, his eyes softening as he kept rereading the words

Dick randomly started laughing today. It sounds nice

You had thought his laugh was nice? Dick didn't even think you paid attention to anything he had done while living in the manor

He kept flipping through each different notebook before he stop on the latest one you had written in

His fingers flipped through to the last pages, expecting to see words of anger and hatred on the paper before him

Dick's my soulmate. I felt my wrist burn when he yelled at me and I just knew without having to seeing what I said appear on my skin. I know I'm going to die tonight.

Dick swallowed the lump in his throat as he thought of what could have went through your mind the exact moment it happened. His fingers carefully flipping to the next page as he kept reading

I don't know what's going to happen with the mission tonight, but I know it's going to be my last. Who knows? Maybe I'll be careless just like Dick always said.

Tears began to form in his eyes as he remembered the confused look on your face after the fight had ended. You had died when everyone was supposed to have been okay and you were confused you were alive after the main fight

I hope to whatever type of god that is out there at Dick never finds these before someone else. I know he had every right to say those things, but I don't want him knowing that I knew I was going to be killed. I was an ass and was given nothing but patience from everyone else. I know he will figure out what we were when I die, but I hope that he doesn't blame himself for what will happen. He had no way of knowing just how much it had hurt to actually hear those words. I hope he lives his life like he always had before.

The tears spilled own his cheeks as he closed the book and held it to his head

Everything after that was just blank pages. You still had over half the pages to keep writing in

Dick felt broken as he took in the feeling you had written out clear as day

He had caused so much hurt in your life before even knowing you

His hands clenched around the cover as he allowed himself to cry. In all the realities of how the end could have happened, this was the worst

The was never a mutual understanding, no form of chemistry like he hoped, not even a split second meeting

All that was there was frustration and hurtful words that could never be taken back

But what hurt the most was that your words to him had never been more truthful compared to anything said to him. You didn't blame him for the anger or even lash back out at him

Because deep down, that was the person that you truly were despite everything

You understood

I saw you wanted some requests!!

Could I request kissing Idia all over his face? I just feel like it’d be so funny to see his reaction

I hope you have a lovely day!!

idia shroud who’s doomed with lots of kisses.

Idia was losing. Badly. And it wasn’t his fault—it could never be his fault—his teammates were just outright incompetent.

“Seriously? Who runs straight into the enemy’s trap without checking the map first?” he grumbled. “Do they even understand the concept of positioning?”

You were just lying on his chest, your body nestled comfortably against his as you watched him play. Your arms were wrapped around his torso, your face just inches from his, and you hummed a quiet tune to entertain yourself.

You were so close. Too close.

And yet... Idia didn’t mind. In fact, he kind of liked it.

He still couldn’t believe you two were like this now—so close, so comfortable. A year ago, he wouldn’t have even dreamed of letting someone into his room, much less on his bed. But now... it was his favorite thing in the world.

Especially when it was you.

Well, you were always the only exception to him whenever it came to almost anything.

Idia tried to focus on his game, his eyes glued to the screen as his character dodged another poorly timed attack from the enemy. “Are they... are they actually feeding the enemy team?! Oh my Sevens, I’m going to spam report them with all of my accounts.” He let out a dramatic sigh, his hair flickering with frustrated flames.

“Amateurs... all of them.”

“You get so worked up over your games,” you tease, your voice warm and affectionate.

He huffed, his eyes narrowing at the screen. “I-It’s because they’re so bad! I mean, seriously, who rushes into a 1v4 without backup?! Do they even know how to play?!”

You just smiled, your fingers gently tracing patterns on his chest. He wore his teal hoodie, the one you got him just because you can. “You’re cute when you get all frustrated.”

“They’re just... so ugh. It’s like they’ve never played a MOBA before.” His fingers moved with practiced precision, his character launching a series of attacks that wiped out two enemies in quick succession. “See? That’s how you do it. If I weren’t here, they’d be doomed.

You didn’t respond, your eyes still focused on him. Idia’s heart raced when he noticed, his fingers faltering on the controller. You were looking at him with that expression again—that sweet, adoring look that made his stomach burst with butterflies and his mind go blank.

He tried to ignore it, tried to focus on his game, but it was impossible. You were too close, too warm, too... loving.

“Why are you staring at me?”

“You look cute when you’re focused.”

He scoffed, his face heating up. “I don’t look cute. I look serious. Intense. Like a soldier.”

“You’re cute,” you insisted, laughing. “Very cute.”

His heart skipped a beat, his fingers faltering on the controller. He narrowly avoided an incoming ultimate skill, his character’s health dropping dangerously low. “H-Hey, don’t distract me!”

“But it’s fun.”

Idia rolled his eyes, sighing. “You’re supposed to be my co-pilot. Aren’t you supposed to be helping me win?”

“I am helping. I’m boosting your morale.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, right. Some morale boost...”

Before he could say more, you leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his chin.

Idia’s heart stopped.

His body went rigid, his breath catching in his throat. Your lips were warm and soft, lingering for just a moment before you pulled away as if it was the most common thing to do.

His character died on screen, the revival countdown flashing in bold white numbers. Idia barely noticed, his mind reeling from the sensation of your kiss.

“[Name]...?”

“I told you it was a morale boost.” How could you casually shrug this off?!

Idia stared at you. How did you two get here? How did he get to the point where he was lying on his bed with his girlfriend, cuddling up to him, kissing him like it was the most natural thing in the world?

More importantly, how did he get to the point where he was okay with it? Did he actually want you to be this close?

Your lips brushed his cheek, softer this time, a feather-light touch that sent shivers down his spine. Idia’s breath hitched, his fingers clenching around his controller.

“W-What are you doing?” His voice was embarrassingly weak, his heart pounding in his chest. God, how pathetic he sounded.

You, however, didn’t answer, your lips trailing along his cheekbones. Then you kissed his forehead, his nose, and even the little mole on his temple.

Idia’s hands trembled, his controller slipping from his fingers and falling onto the mattress beside him. His arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, his body moving on its own.

“I like watching you play,” you admitted quietly. “You get so focused. It’s adorable.”

He groaned, his head falling back against his pillow.

“You’re... evil...”

You laughed. “You’re just realizing that now?”

“You’re worse than players who don’t know how to cast their character’s ultimate combo.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You then leaned in and kissed him again, this time on the corner of his mouth.

His heart was pounding so loudly he was sure you could hear it. You were so, so close now, your face just inches from his.

He swallowed hard. “You’re... really close...”

“Do you want me to move?”

“No.”

“Ok.”

He never thought he’d get to this point—never thought he’d find someone who accepted him, who cared for him, who wanted to be close to him. Someone who could understand him and make him feel as though he deserves to be loved unconditionally.

And yet, here you were, lying in his arms, your warmth seeping into him, your presence filling every corner of his heart.

“I... really like you.”

He likes saying it when he feels as though he needs to say it, which isn’t often, so it holds sentiment and tenderness.

“I like you too, Idia. Really, really like you.”

Idia was doomed. Completely, absolutely, undeniably doomed... and he never wanted to be saved.

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i wanna try 😜

May the 10 of Pentacles bless your account with more money than you can spend. 💵✨

soulmates 🗣️ (sketch under the cut