#Start using that tag y'all

[doriansredroses]

I got burnt again. I was only outside for about half an hour and I’m red and hot. My mom is against sunscreen because she says the sunlight is good for vitamin d and getting a tan. I’ve been easily burnt before (normal) but this is overkill. I’d get burnt after spending over an hour outside without protection, but sometimes a bit burnt on my shoulders earlier than that. Now the sun is my enemy because I’m all raw from just stepping outside or swimming. I guess I’m taking my vampire summer pretty seriously.

[dorothywonderland]

Is it considered plagiarism if you're copying your own comic?

╮ (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) ╭

[demonir]

New Doctor Who fan in 2025? Geez man talk about being late to the party, somebody give this guy a recap of the past 60 years please

Lmao jokes aside hi I drew these like a month ago, you can have them now. They started out as simple doodles and then I got too in the zone so I went back to sorta color all of them, it was a really fun exercise! I should try that again.

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

Of Truths and Dreams; Lilia Vanrouge

Dreams can tell a lot about a person. Their wants, their fears. But sometimes they can tell you the truth, and sometimes it isn't pretty.

Supporting Characters; Baul (for a second), Sebek Zigvolt

Content; Soulmate AU (I call them soul matches), gender neutral reader, can be read as familial, platonic, or romantic, Chapter 7 spoilers, hurt/comfort, some General Vanrouge

Content Warning; Chapter 7 spoilers, war, death (talk, I don't describe it), angst? (idk man)

Word Count; 5.5 K

Don't put my works into AI, as AI steals in order to "create".

Sebek's Story | Malleus's Story

The Thorn Fairy had gifted a blessing to the fae, a blessing of soul matches. 

A connection forged between two souls. Such a connection is rare, and different variations do occur; primarily in beastmen and merfolk. Each clan had their unique soul match bonds. And the fae were no different. However, their history was not written down on paper, or carved into the corals. The information and history of fae soul matches was an oral history, passed down from generation to generation through hushed tones. 

To outsiders, they shrugged it off as just another odd behaviour of the clan, but the fae had good reason to be wary. In the past, the knowledge of fae soul matches was shared with an outsider, and because of that blunder of misplaced trust, the royal family was targeted. But that was many a queen��s reign ago. But the fae do not forget such transgressions, no; that story, that history, is used as a warning. Tell no one but whom you would trust your life with any information regarding your soul match, lest it be used against you. No one outside of the fae, save for their soul match, is to know of this most treasured bond.

Despite the secretiveness of fae soul matches, they were celebrated once they manifested themselves, as they were a blessing from the Thorn Fairy herself. There is a catch though; due to their long life spans, it can take years, decades, or even centuries in the very rare and unfortunate cases, for the bond between soul match partners to manifest itself. The only thing more unfortunate than it taking centuries is if their soul match were human… for a human lifespan is only a fraction that of even the more short-lived fae clans. It was seen as a tragedy, a doomed pairing from the beginning, with a heartbroken fae as the only possible answer. Such pairings were pitied, and seen as bad luck.

But what does the bond between soul matches take the form of within the fae? What does the Thorn Fairy’s blessing of soul matches look like?

There are many speculations on that. Many scholars say it is a mark on the body; a mole, or three scratches. But that is not correct. It is not a shared song, a stone messenger, or a coloured thread on their finger. And there is a written record of the bond as well; one just has to dig deep into the records, scrolls, and tomes that exist within the library of the former castle of the Draconia’s.

It is also a melody, a hum on the lips of many fae if by chance you are able to hear it. I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream. The soul match bonds between the fae and their match took the form of shared dreams, tinted the colour of their soul. They cannot truly see the other, or speak to each other, but the gleam in their eyes is one that will stay in their mind, as it is so familiar a gleam. 

…

…

…

Rest is a luxury, a luxury that Lilia could not spare. The war would not wait for the general to be well rested, or wait for him to have a nap. No, it would continue until it either ended with one side coming out the victor, or it would end with peace negotiations. Rest can wait. But the fae in his company were sleeping, and he was on the first watch.

But there was something else which made him avoid resting; his dreams. His dreams were black and white, devoid of any colour, and he was always alone in them. Yes, there may be other people, but they didn’t interact. His soul match was nowhere to be seen. Three hundred years and there has been absolutely nothing.

He wasn’t alone on watch duty though, Baul was beside him, staring out into the dark. 

“You need to rest,” he huffed, shooting a look towards Lilia from the corner of his eye. 

Lilia quirked a brow, but his gaze did not waver from the darkness of the forest. There was something out there, waiting. “I can rest when this is over.” His voice was cold, sharp, like that of a blade. “I cannot rest while a war is still being fought on our lands.”

Baul pushed his shoulders back and turned his eyes back to the darkness of the forest. “General, if you do not rest, it will eventually catch up to you. Whether you like it or not.” 

He was right, if Lilia did sleep, it would eventually catch up with him in the worst possible moment. The last thing that he needed was to fall into a microsleep in the middle of battle. Thirty seconds of vulnerability in the heat of conflict could spell the very end for him. He let out a tired sigh, “I suppose you are right. When our shift is over I can rest.”

After an uneventful night watch, save for the crack of a stick in the distance — which turned out to be nothing more than just a deer passing through — Lilia turned in for the night in his tent. He stared up to the ceiling, and tried to fall asleep, but the harder he tried the more difficult it became, but eventually exhaustion won over frustration and Lilia fell asleep.

His dream was black and white, as always. They have been devoid of colour for the past three hundred years, so why would they be any different now?

He was a child again, playing in a flower meadow with Malenoa and Levan. Well, Malenoa was playing whereas Levan had been dragged along against his will. And Lilia? Well, wherever the crown princess went, he followed; part of it being that they were friends, the other being that he was raised alongside her and swore to protect her.

“Lilia! Come on,” Malenoa shouted from across the glen, a big smile on her face. “Last one to the thicket is a rotten egg!” And she took off, dragging Levan behind her, the young boy letting out an undignified squawk.

Lilia gave chase, a peel of laughter escaping his lips. “That’s not fair! You got a head’s start!” He eventually caught up to the two royals at the large rose thicket on the outskirts of the meadow. “I guess I’m the rotten egg,” he huffed before sitting down next to a dishevelled looking Levan.

He didn’t really understand why the Thorn Fairy had bonded them together, Malenoa and Levan couldn’t be more opposite of each other. But soul matches do work in mysterious ways… But Lilia wondered when the Thorn Fairy would place that blessing onto him. He had spent, and would spend, his life serving the royal family after the queen had taken him in, so why didn’t the first of the royal bloodline deem him worthy?

Malenoa was looking at the roses until she found one that she liked. She plucked it from the stem, whispered a quiet thank you to the briar patch, and then placed it behind Lilia’s ear. A baby pink rose, but he could not see the colour of the flower, only that it was pale. A stark contrast against Lilia’s jet black hair.

“What’s that for,” he asked but did not dare remove the flower. He should have been used to Malenoa’s antics by now, but she still caught him off guard despite their time spent together.

Malenoa hummed, “Pink suits you, plus since you were the rotten egg, you stunk so badly that you needed the rose to cover up the smell.” She stuck out her tongue and pinched her nose with her fingers, giggling. “A stinky, stinky egg! Right, Levan?”

Levan looked tired, but he nodded his head. “Unfortunately it seems so.” He coughed, trying to cover up the chortle that nearly escaped his lips.

The easy nature of the dream shifted, the briars from the rose thicket separating Lilia from Malenoa and Levan. The thicket then caught on fire, smoking out the dream (the memory?) in a thick, dark, smoke.

Lilia woke with a start, and placed his hand over his heart. It was beating fast, and he was covered in sweat. He then heard a commotion coming from outside, and it wasn’t the usual squabbling he heard as people tried to barter over the best breakfast options.

He strided out into the camp, and he didn’t make it very far until one of the soldiers came clamouring over to him, tripping over their feet in the process.

“G-general!” They heaved, looking pale. “N-news! From the front lines!” They handed him a scroll before taking back off to their tent.

Lilia opened the scroll and his eyes froze, pupils contracting into harsh slits. The parchment crumpled in his tight fist, but he regained his composure. They had a war to end, but Lilia’s mission had shifted from that of victory for country. It had shifted to justice; to serve justice to the murders of Malenoa. For his friend, his family, for Levan, and for her unhatched egg; the hope, and now only future, for the Draconias.

…

…

…

Another four hundred years had passed, and Lilia’s dreams were still black and white. And where he may have had been bitter in his younger years, he no longer held that resentment. Yes, he still questioned why he had not received a soul match, but he had accepted that it was simply not to be. Besides, he now had more meaning in his life. He had been many things in his life; a friend, a soldier, an advisor, and now, a father. The silver haired baby that he had found years ago, Silver, was everything Lilia could ever really ask for. He loved Malleus, but not to the same degree as Silver; Malleus was the heir to the throne above all else.

Lilia was content with how things currently were, happy even. He had found his purpose.

“Hmm, this school year should prove interesting,” he hummed to himself. The ceremony was today, and it proved to be a most interesting one at that. He did wonder what the newcomer, the one not suitable to any dorm, would do. They didn’t seem like the type to just leave things alone. He shook his head though, and made himself comfortable in his bed, turning in for the night.

He was in the meadow of his youth again, but it was now overgrown. The vines from the rose thicket choking out all of the other flowers and grasses. And all but one rose was withered away. And this single rose was pink. Lilia could see colour, and the pink bled into the rest of the dream, casting everything in a rose-tinted light. 

After seven hundred years, the Thorn Fairy had finally answered his call. And everything was pink. “After all this time, now you have decided they can enter my life,” he whispered, looking directly at the rose. 

If he were younger, he would have been overjoyed, but Lilia knew that he did not have the commodity of time at his side. Despite the fae’s long lifespan, he was old, and his magic reservoir was running low. And the bitterness that he had since forgotten reappeared. “Why would you put them through this?”

He turned on his heel, but stopped. At the edge of the meadow was his soul match, he could not make out their face, appearance, nor their voice, but he knew it was them. “You should leave.” His words were not spoken, but were instead written in the air in glowing pink letters. But instead of turning around and leaving, they took a step forward, and then another, before coming to rest in front of Lilia.

“Who are you,” their words were written in pink letters, just like his. And even though he could not see their face, he could distinctly tell they wore an expression of confusion. “And why is everything pink?”

Lilia woke up to the sounds of his alarm going off, ripping him out of the dream. Why is everything pink? His soul match didn’t know what the colour ment, which could only mean one thing; his match was not fae. His soul match was mortal. And that revelation made a lump form in his throat.

He was worried about his soul match outliving him, that the possibility that he would outlive them never crossed his mind. Why had the Thorn Fairy chosen them? Why did she gift him an ending that would end in heartbreak?

…

…

Ever since finding yourself in Twisted Wonderland you started keeping a dream journal. Alongside the weird, and sometimes downright disturbing, dreams about future overblots, you had rose-tinted ones with a stranger in them. But they kept their distance. And you hadn’t found any answers for them. 

“Human!” The sharp shout from Sebek tore you away from your thoughts, as the first-year student was incredibly… loud. “Do you know how rude it is to ignore somebody when they are talking?! Did you not sleep last night?!” 

In the few months that you’ve been stuck here, you came to call the abrasive Diasomnia student a reluctant friend. He may be prickly, but it was his own way of showing that he cared… in his own roundabout way which usually involved yelling and non-intentional insults. 

Did you not sleep last night?! Yes, but it was anything but restful.

You were in the midst of a battlefield, which was now long over. The only evidence being the hollow armour of warriors long fallen. And, as in all of your dreams, there were roses everywhere. Their thorny vines creating a wall, trapping you and the pink stranger in together.

This wasn’t your dream, it was their’s… or more like a memory? It was all way too centred in reality, in mourning and loss, to be a dream. What did they live through?

“What happened here?” Your words floated gently in the air and only disappeared when the stranger noticed them.

They picked up a broken spear and held it gently in their grasp. “What do you think? War. War is what happened here.” Their words floated in front of you, and you could see the weight of them on their shoulders. “The dreams of many died here, the only thing remaining of them being the armour that was supposed to protect them.”

What the hell have they lived through? “... were you there?” 

The dream shifted, no longer were you standing on a long forgotten battlefield, now reclaimed by nature, but you were now sitting in a dark castle. Not even the pink hue over everything could brighten it.

The stranger went up the stairs. Go away, can you not tell I am not the best person for you? Our story will only end in hurt. But they said none of that, continuing to go up the long winding staircase. “Did you hear me? I asked you if you were there!” You yelled after them, following them up the spiralling staircase until the both of you came to a halt in front of a large wooden door, scorched at the bottom.

“Yes,” the words floated in your face before fading away. “I was there… I led the battle. I led them to death.”

I led them to death. You were sweating buckets, but before you knew what you were doing you wrote down a note in your dream journal

Roses. Thorns. Battle. Magic. War. You had no real idea what it all meant, but it was somewhere to start. A step in the direction of figuring what it all meant

“No,” you said, avoiding Sebek’s concerned gaze, “I didn’t sleep well… not at all.” You hadn’t slept soundly in weeks. You hadn’t had a pleasant dream since you woke up here. “Nightmares,” you whispered, “night after night. And a stranger, the same stranger, who is avoiding me.”

Sebek’s face paled, and he placed his hand on your shoulder. “Human,” his voice was now quiet, guarded. He led you to a classroom and made sure no one was around. “Are these dreams a certain colour? Do words float in the air? Can you not make out their face?” Even though this was the quietest that he has spoken, it was also the most serious Sebek had been with you. 

You nodded your head, “All of that, yes. How did you know?” Your brows pinched, and you let out a deep sigh. “Sebek, if you know something, please, just tell me.”

Sebek was fighting a war in his head; tell the truth to you, or keep the fae soul match a secret. But the dark bags under your eyes told him enough. “You have a soul match, and they are fae. I’m… sorry.”

The bell rang and he was off to his next class, leaving you alone with this world altering information. I have a soul match? They’re fae? … why did he look so sad for me?

…

…

…

Lilia noticed something off about Sebek the moment he walked, or rather stormed, to the confines of his room. So, he followed, gently knocking at the door, waiting for an answer.

“May I come in?”

He heard Sebek scramble up and open the door. “Of course, Lilia-sama!” He was just like his grandfather; loud, a bit too stiff for his own good, but loyal, almost to a fault. 

Lilia walked over to the bed, and patted the spot beside him. “Come, sit. You seem to be carrying quite the burden.” He had noticed Sebek’s odd behaviour all day, and it wasn’t like him to do so. “Come now, out with it.”

Sebek picked at a loose thread on his bedding, and massaged his temple. “It’s about soul matches.”

Lilia felt the lump in his throat form again. “What about them? They are a blessing from the Thorn Fairy herself. Who are we to question her decision-”

“A human disclosed that they have a soul match, a fae soul match. And I told them that. I broke the oath to not tell anyone!” Sebek clenched his fists and looked down at the floor. “They aren’t even my soul match, and I told them!”

Lilia placed his hand on Sebek’s back, and started patting him on the back. A gesture that meant everything was going to be okay. “Well,” a breathy chuckle escaped his lips, a soft smile on his face, “they deserve to know what is ahead of them, do they not?”

Like I have been trying to tell mine, but they still have not left it alone. They keep on showing up, night after night.

Sebek seemed to calm down, but there was still a lot weighing heavy in his mind. “It’s not my place to talk. It is for them, and their match to decide. But,” he took a deep breath, and that familiar intensity in his eyes was back, “I can’t help but worry.”

Lilia recognized the look in his pseudo-adopted son’s eyes, it all too well reflected the look Baul would get before battle. And this was Sebek, concerned for a human, which would only mean one thing; whoever they were, they were a friend of his. And that narrowed everything down. Time to do some sleuthing of my own. “They’re strong, most likely stubborn. They shall be fine,” his voice was light, trying to brighten the atmosphere of the room. “It’s late, you should really get some rest.”

With that, Lilia walked out of the room and softly closed the door. There was something that he needed to do tonight, in his dream.

…

…

This dream was different from all the others. There were no signs of the thorny brambles of roses. There were no signs of war. No, instead Lilia found himself in the courtyard of Night Raven College, the sun high overhead and a slight breeze playing with loose leaves. This wasn’t his dream; it was his soul match’s. And you were sitting under a tree, looking up at the sky, just watching the clouds pass by. 

“This is a nice change of pace,” the pink words drifted slowly in the wind. “Better than nightmares and bad memories.”

Lilia felt a twinge of guilt. Better than nightmares and bad memories. Those were his doing. And instead of him being subjected to your nightmares and memories that you would rather forget, the both of them were here, in a quiet moment in time. There was no war, there was no loss. There was only you and Lilia, and an easy feeling. “You are too kind,” he sighed. Thank you. That is what he meant.

You hummed, “I can’t control my dreams, so it’s really just a fluke.” You sighed and rested your head against the tree, closing your eyes and enjoying the filtered sunlight. “I’m just happy it’s a pleasant one.”

“As am I,” he took a seat next to you and looked up to the sky, watching the clouds aimlessly pass by. I need to tell them. “It is cruel, what the Thorn Fairy has done to you. Gifting you a fae soul match.”

You turned your head towards him. Even though you couldn’t truly see who they were, you could see that they carried a lot on their shoulders. You didn’t say anything though, but instead offered your silence as an indicator for him to continue.

“How much do you know about soul matches?” It is their and their soul match’s decision. He wanted to tell them everything, so that they could decide for themself if they wanted him in their life.

You sighed. So now they decide to tell me? “Pretty much nothin’. Just the basics; soul matches exist, which I can kinda infer what it means, they’re gifted by the Thorn Fairy, and you’re fae. I have found absolutely nothing that even talks about the subject, and nobody but my one friend has mentioned it.”

Nobody but my one friend has mentioned it. Were they friends with Sebek? That would narrow down everything drastically, and would also explain why they were relaxing at Night Raven College in their dream. Lilia knew them. They were already closer than he ever thought. 

“So, please,” you turned to look at the stranger, your soul match, eyes gleaming gently. “Tell me, tell me everything.”

So he did, he and you sat under the tree for the entirety of the dream, discussing what soul matches were, the different forms and bonds they come in, and what you could expect from this. 

I know you, that look in your eye is so familiar a gleam.

…

…

Ever since that dream from a few days ago, you have noticed your soul match get more playful and teasing in your dreams. They no longer held you at a distance, it was a drastic but welcomed change. The cold was gone, and instead there was warmth. But something still felt off. With everything that has happened, with seeing each other's dreams and memories, you still didn’t know who they were. And everytime you tried to tell them your name, the words didn’t form. It was annoying.

“Something on your mind, Prefect,” a familiar teasing voice chuckled from behind you. Lilia shot you a teasing smile, eyes twinkling with mischief. He used to startle you whenever he decided to sneak up on you, but you grew accustomed to his playful nature. 

You shot him a look, but then shook your head and chuckled. “Just thinking is all. What about you?” You had noticed that Lilia had gotten more lively, the dark cloud that seemed to hang around him for the past few weeks had seemed to vanish. “You seem to be in a more chipper mood,” you chuckled.

 He gave you a quiet chortle, the only real evidence of it being the subtle movement of his shoulders and the quiet exhale from his lips. His magenta eyes gleamed softly in the dim lighting of the hallway. They were familiar, but you could have sworn that you had seen them somewhere before, but the answer was avoiding you.

“Just a lot has happened is all, and it brought a surprise with it.” Lilia was cryptic, but it was a part of his odd charm. A mix of something old beyond your years, and a more youthful impishness. It was endearing.

He reminded you of somebody, but you couldn’t quite place your finger on it. “Fine then, old man, keep your secrets. One day I’ll make you spill.”

The two of you exploded with laughter, and Lilia patted you on the shoulder. “Maybe someday. I’ll be looking forward to it, Prefect.” He waved you goodbye as he made his way to his next class. Leaving you alone in the hallway. 

You hummed to yourself as you made your way to your next class, History of Magic, where Trein was preparing on his lecture to tell the first years about the fae-human wars. Something that you had already witnessed the aftermath of, despite not knowing it at the time. After all, that’s what that one dream was about; the one of the meadow, the rose briars, and the rusting armour laying half buried in the earth. But you didn’t know the true horrors of war, and your soul match made sure that you would never have to witness what he had.

…

…

…

You were back in the meadow, in the middle of the fray. No longer were the rusted armours and broken weapons half buried, their wielders were alive again, and you were caught in the middle of it. The sky was an angry shade of pink, and thunder rumbled ominous in the distance… nope that was cannon fire.

Everything was absolute chaos, and you were thankful that nothing could harm you in the dreams, but that didn’t make you flinch any less whenever a ghost arrow flied through the air. Or maybe it would be more accurate to call you the ghost. You weren’t going to dwell on that though, since you didn’t want to push your luck. Something you seemed to be in short supply of.

You saw a flash in front of you, and a bat-masked figure was in front of you, glowing red eyes staring at you, before running back into the battle. Even though this was a dream, you could have sworn that they saw you. And then you were ripped away from the battle ground, being pulled up by your underarms. Looking up you saw the fuzzy and distorted visage of your soul match, pulling you away from danger.

“What were you doing?!” They snapped at you. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but you could infer their tone and emotion from their body language and you know, hauling your ass away from danger.

You patted their forearm, and looked back down to the flashes of magic and metal gleaming in the waning light of the setting sun. “Were you here? This is more than a dream, isn’t it? This is a memory.” 

Dreams are often a flight of fancy, but for Lilia, and for you, they were more than randomly concocted scenarios played out by the sleeping mind. These dreams held truth, the dreams were memories. And this memory showed the most impactful one.

“How many?”

That statement could mean so many things. It could mean how many battles. How many lives were lost. How many lives had he taken. “Too many to count,” is what he decided on saying. It was true though, Lilia had lost count of how many times he had done all of those things. “You must think of me as cruel,” a sad yet harsh laugh left his mouth, and he looked down at you. “A monster.”

You looked back. There was sadness in your match’s eyes, but also a tiredness. “I don’t think you’re a monster, or cruel though.”

Lilia looked into your eyes. You were being honest, sincere, and your eyes showed that. They were the only part of you that he could clearly make out. They were familiar, they were warm. “I am down there though, leading the assault… against the humans.” Against you.

“The past is the past. What is done, is done. We can’t change that.” Leading the assault… didn’t Professor Trein talk about the wars today? “I won’t judge you based on your past, especially if you’re super old which I know pretty well that your are, gramps. But you can’t change it. It has left its scars, but what matters most is the present and what lies ahead.”

You were right, and Lilia felt foolish to let that small part of himself, the insecurity of not being wanted, fester. “I’m the old one? You sound far more wiser than your years… you whippersnapper.”

The battle faded away, and the two of you floated down to the meadow. It had morphed, morphed back into the meadow of Lilia’s youth; filled with wildflowers, grasses, and the rose thicket was in full bloom. And if you listened close enough, you could hear the laughter of a young girl in the breeze as a raven flew overhead.

…

…

Lilia needed to find you. Your dreams were filled with premonitions, and they sat heavy in his mind at the repercussions they could make. They sent off alarm bells in his mind. Lilia was in a tizzy. I have to find them.

His magic was running out, and he knew that his lifespan had shortened drastically. He would be lucky to live another sixty or seventy years, which was nothing in the eyes of many fae. But that was a human lifetime. A lifetime that could be spent with not just Silver and Sebek, but you. He wanted to find you. He didn’t care what form your soul match bond took; be it like the relationship of family, of friends, or of lovers. He wanted to find you, needed to find you.

I know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam. Those eyes, they were the only part of you that he could ever make out. Eyes filled with mischief, responsibility, curiosity, and kindness. He knew those eyes. They were your eyes, the Ramshackle Prefect’s eyes. How could I be so blind?

It made all too much sense. The dreams had only started when you showed up. He felt drawn to you, like a moth to flame. It made sense that you would be the human that had made Sebek drop his guard and tell a human about fae soul matches. It made all of the sense in the world. And it had taken until now for him to realise. Perhaps he really was an ‘old man’ and already going senile like you joked, both in and out of the dreams.

That is how he came to find himself at your front door, in the middle of the night, still wearing his hot pink and neon green pyjamas. All because of the one dream, the most recent dream of overblot, and his own realisation of who you truly were. So he knocked three times, and waited for you to come down.

You groaned awake, the faint memory of the dream still weighing heavy on your mind. I can never catch a break, huh? I swear if it’s Ace I’m going to drop kick him. You begrudgingly made your way to the front door, and opened it right as a yawn escaped your mouth. “Lilia?”

What was Lilia doing at your front door? It was like two in the morning… although his bat print pyjamas were pretty great. Was that ‘Bat-tastic’ written in swirly font? Where in Twisted Wonderland had he found that?

“What are you doing here?” Was what you said instead. 

“Do you recognize me,” he whispered, taking your hands in his, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

Recognize you? “Your Lilia, of course I recognize you, old man.”

He looked at you, magenta eyes practically glowing in the dark. Familiar magenta eyes. Eyes that held such familiar a gleam… as if you had seen them countless times in your dreams, tinted a paler shade of the colour. “Prefect, have we met before? I could have sworn that I met you… once upon a dream?”

It all made sense. It all made sense. The coldness at first, the memories of war, the playfulness. Why everything was pink. Your match, the perceived stranger, was no stranger at all. They were Lilia.

“So you’re them,” you said softly. “We’re soul matches?”

He shot you a playful wink, “It would seem so. And I’m happy that you are them, and they, you.”

All of those centuries spent alone, wondering why the Thorn Fairy had not granted him the blessing of having a soul match, and then the confusion of finally receiving one after years of nothing, now had an answer. It was you, and Lilia knew that the seven hundred years may have been lonely, but whatever time he had left, he would be more than happy to spend with you. 

Fin!

Author's Note; Enjoy this word vomit. If you want to read more, do check out my masterlist.

Tags; @xxoomiii @eynnwwyjth @twistwonderlanddevotee @savanaclaw1996 @identity-theft-101

[starflungwaddledee]

Oooo starstruck dee has little stars at the bottom of her feet! Are they just aesthetic or would they make imprints into the ground? (like pawprints)

exactly like that! though she's not the only one...

edit: might need to add some additional dialogue to this to make it more clear, but a clarification in the interim; he knows about his own footprints. he's just surprised to see something similar already there when he knows he's only just landed. he lifts his own shoe to confirm that they're not identical (and also to reveal this to the viewer). seems his stoicism beat off the clarity in this one, sorry 😭

[wikiangela]

tease tidbit tuesday

tagged by @bidisasterevankinard @tizniz 💖

more bucktommy the will talk (they're getting there, the conversation went a bit off track lol) - it might be done this week, and then I can focus on the smut, and the buddie fics, and I have a new bucktommy idea inspired by that video of lou barbecuing with his shirt off that I sooo wanna write🙈

prev snippet

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“Well, yeah, of course.” Buck answers easily, his heartbeat speeding up. He’s a little anxious about putting too much pressure, too many expectations out there, but he also knows that even if he did, they’d get back on track, they’d be fine. And besides, Tommy’s smiling, he doesn’t seem freaked out at all. And that’s after Buck brought up children. But if they’re moving forward with their relationship, they need to know what they want out of life. It seems reasonable to have this conversation this early on.

“Good.” he responds, grinning widely. “Now I won't have to stress about your answer when I ask.” he adds, and Buck feels himself blush, butterflies in his stomach going wild. Oh. Oh. This is- this is real. They’re talking about it, and maybe someday soon- he might marry this man. He will marry this man. Tommy wants him forever. Tommy wants him. Tommy wants to marry him and have children with him, and just be with him. Sometimes it’s still so shocking to Buck that someone as great and amazing as Tommy wants him, but he does. Buck’s not sure he remembers the last time he felt this wanted.

“How- how do you know I won’t ask first?” Buck asks, moving his head slightly closer to Tommy, just enough to look into his beautiful blue eyes. It feels surreal, talking about this, when they only dated for a few months, but it also feels… right. It feels like they’re on the right track to get there one day.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @thebravebitch @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @weewootruck @loveyouanyway @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @hippolotamus @giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @underwaterninja13 @exhuastedpigeon @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @buddieswhvre @fortheloveofbuddie @your-catfish-friend @theotherbuckley @daffi-990 @dangerpronebuddie @hoodie-buck @aroeddiediaz @diazsdimples

[necrotic-nephilim]

If you want to be bothered. Maybe this for dick and Bruce???

i ALWAYS want to be bothered these are always the highlight of my day tbh you're a delight for letting me just yap <3

Dick. For the canon isn't real square I am Specifically talking about the Tom Taylor Nightwing run. Usually I ignore bad runs but given this one is ongoing (though about to end THANK GOD and get replaced by Dan Watters who i have high hopes for since i adored his Sword of Azrael (2022) run but i digress) so I counted it. Especially since it's so debated if that run is bad or not, for some reason. I'm a 90s Nightwing truther. I love Dick so dearly and tbh recently I've been more enamored with him the more I read his Discowing era, I didn't used to be as big of a Dick stan as I am these days.

Bruce. Honestly where do you even start with Bruce. I want to fist fight him and also patch him up. He got me into comics and superheroes as a whole but I roll my eyes whenever he shows up in a story. He's a bastard and usually not a good father but also complex and should be dissected under a magnifying glass. I love him dearly. He's also just the worst. I think that's why I love him. I'm always a fan of unabashedly Complicated Asshole Bruce who's generally not always the best person, particularly not to the Batfamily and that being the driving force of his relationships with them, especially in shipping.

And for bonus points, Tim. Because know above all else, I'm a Tim Drake kinnie /deg. He's been my number one for a decade and I've yet to uproot him from my brain. He's literally the Worst half the time and I love him for it. And the canon isn't real refers to Tim Drake: Robin because... that sure was a comic. And that's about all I can say about it. Pre-Flashpoint Tim I miss you so dearly. I think it's fun that I want to put him in a blender and drink the juice but also want Nothing Ever to happen to him.

[moociaoafterdark]

Sketch I'll never finish, probably, but FUUUUUUCK THESE TWO ARE ROTTING MY BRAIN HELP MEEEEEE

[themintman]

I am filled with HATE and SORROW y'all know how like Nurm is my favourite character my number 1 guy out of any piexe of media ever I love him dearly which sucks cause he's pretty unpopular but whatever whatever. N I'm like "man I really want to see some new Nurm content but everything I find I've either seen before or I created ☹️" and then I. I go on tiktok and I KEEP seeing edits that start with a clip with Nurm in them and then haha surprise it's actually a Petra edit!! Cause it's ALWAYS PETRA GOD DAMN IT and I love her. I love Petra so much. She is a fabulous character but ohm y god I am tweaking. I genuinely started crying y'all I am not sane nor normal. I'm so normal about him. Oh my good god I am going insane I am 💥💥💥💥

[anomalousmancunt]

abled means non-disabled, not ablebodied.

"abled mentally disabled people", "abled neurodivergents", and "abled mentally ill people" are not good terms unless the conversation is specifically about neurodivergent/mentally ill people who aren't disabled by their conditions. in which case, i sure hope you also like the term "abled chronically ill people" for referring to chronically ill people not disabled by their conditions.

wait, those aren't common at all? most chronically ill people are disabled and making a term that implies that's not the case is kind of weird?

yeah. yeah, it is.

[crescentfool]

somehow i never drew the big cat from persona 3??? so here is ryoji and the big cat. as a treat.

[hislittleraincloud]

dude can you just stop using the wenclair tag? like its annoying seeing these kind of posts. some of us are just here to see the fun dynamics, other’s interpretation, arts etc. and i get that you’re against it or whatever, so maybe like leave these tags alone? stop abusing the tags if you don’t like it

The last anon I just answered didn't even have the Wenclair tag even though the anon mentioned it. But thanks for reminding me to go back and remedy that. 🥹

Look, I get it, you don't read anything that goes against your little echo chamber, so you missed what I fucking said in the next to last one that WAS tagged Wenclair:

It's not my fault that you can't stand criticism of the novel or the ship within the constraints of the novel and fandom. I had never had a problem with any Wenclair fanon until y'all creamed yourselves over this novelization. I read it (slowly, for me, so I could catalog each instance of fuckery with canon in my brain that I could), and that is what I have a problem with.

I've always supported Wednesday and Enid the same way M&G support it, since accepting and building friendship was what Morticia had stated in the beginning in the limo she'd hoped for her daughter/what Wednesday had stated she was extremely resistant to throughout ("I like being an island...a well fortified one surrounded by sharks."). Seems like no one cares to comprehend how wild a jump from a strict antisocial loner who hates people to Spanish-spewing yandere "Willa" in the span of four weeks actually is, and that's how fanon can be*...only now Mejia's injected 100% fanon [see the defiling of "Woe What a Night" for the worst of it] into the canon that millions of people around the world saw and y'all are calling it canon (when it is not, despite being published through the studio). In my last real fandom I participated in there was a screenplay "tie up" in lieu of a fourth season published by Showtime and written by Neil Jordan himself that was roundly rejected by fans as canon because it was so out of character for our main characters from what we had seen for three seasons. Same goes for the Jack Thorne's Cursed Child nonsense in Potter (even Potter actors have called it fan fiction).

TLDR: It's not abusing a tag if the tag is relevant to the post's discussion. Grow some skin and learn how to deal ("cope" like you kids love to say) with reasonable criticisms.

[edmunderson]

nothing says 'i love you' like being lookout so your zombie boyfriend can get a warm meal

[undertale-fic-librarby]

Featured Fic Friday!

Welcome to Featured Fic Friday! A day where I, or someone who suggests one, tell you about a fanfic that I really enjoy! Spoiler's under the cut! Today's featured fic is...

The One Where Sans Tells It Like It Is. (Or: The One Where Sans Is Number One Dunckle) by marauding_bagel (General Audiences, Complete)

When Toriel asked him to attend the meeting in her place for one night he thought it wouldn't be a big deal. Turns out Sans could not have been more wrong.

A bit of a short fic, there's a surprising lack of fics with this concept! Even still, I like the way the author exectues the idea! I loved reading comics similar to this fic when I was younger, so this threw me back a bit!

I enjoy the way the author writes the characters, & how they have them interact with each other!

Spoilers ahead!

I really like how the author includes some of the reactions from the unamed parents also at the meeting, having mentions of nods of agreement & cheering when Sans insults Helen's brownies!

[queen-scribbles]

listening ear

Pre-relationship (voyage to Tir Fradi) Ves & Kurt, as I cross my fingers and hope nurturing a plot bunny will stave off the desire to replay her for the fourth(fifth?) time. ---

The thing about traveling by ship was that it got boring after a few weeks.

The thing about traveling by ship with Constantin was that when he got bored he started to talk.

Not much thought to the topic, or propriety, anything was fair game. Rumors, gossip, complaints, new things he learned, teasing. Vesper had heard all about his seasickness("it's unrelenting, Ves, I may die"), his unrequited crush on one of the Nauts("I'm doomed to pining"), the sailing vocabulary he'd picked up, and light-hearted ribbing about her choice of books.

Perhaps that was why, today, she sought an excuse to be preoccupied when he went on the prowl.

She found Kurt in one of the lower holds--half-full, large rings in the walls; maybe for securing cages with those creatures?--replacing the leather that bound the grip of his zweihander.

Absorbed as he was, he still spoke even before he looked up. "Need something, Green Blood?"

"I was hoping to get some practice." She rolled her shoulders. "With swordplay."

"Keepin' your edge or lookin' to improve something?" Kurt asked, giving the leather a twist as he neared the bottom.

"Both to an extent," Vesper said, rolling up the sleeves of her shirt. "But I have been thinking about the day we left. My weak right guard? We could work on that, once you're done?"

"Whatever y' need, Excellency," he shrugged, starting to tie off the leather. "I'm yours to command."

"You can take the time to finish," she protested with a smile. "I'm hardly in a rush." She bit her lip. "I can even help if you need an extra hand."

Kurt gave her a keen look, grey eyes glittering with amusement. "Hiding from your cousin, are you?"

"Am I so obvious?" Vesper groaned, leaning against the wall. "I love him, and I'm loathe to hurt his feelings, but if I have to listen to another recitation of rigging vocabulary I may go mad."

She could confess these things to Kurt. He knew her, knew how she loved Constantin. He'd not breathe a word that, just once, she wanted a break from playing the listening ear, and he wouldn't judge, because he knew her cousin. She appreciated that a great deal.

He chuckled. "I do have the advantage of knowin' you a long while, Green Blood. Doubt it would be as clear to anyone else here."

"What a relief," she said drolly. "Hate to start a rumor."

Another chuckle as he eyed the zweihander grip. "As to your offer... I'm nearly done, but if you could hold it steady there" --he indicated a spot--"it would make the final binding a good bit easier."

"Of course." Vesper pushed away from the wall and rested three fingers in the spot. She watched his hands, methodical, confident, as he worked. "It looks almost like wound binding."

"S'ppose it is," Kurt grunted, tying it off at the end. He reached for a small knife to trim the excess.

""I suppose you have practice with that as well, then," she murmured absently, withdrawing her hand and eyeing how well done the wrap was.

"My share," he shrugged, then cleared his throat. "Ready to practice, Excellency?"

"Mm... oh. Yes." Vesper brushed at hair that wasn't really loose and glanced around. "Do you think here will serve? Or do we need to seek out more space?"

Kurt surveyed the hold. "If I'm gonna do my usual, a little more overhead might be wise." He reached up and tapped the rafters. "Don't think our esteemed captain would like me puttin' dents in his ship."

"Probably not," she laughed in agreement. "That means either the lower hold for a higher ceiling but darker surroundings, or up on deck."

"D'you have a preference?" he asked, arching a brow.

Vesper met it with a wry smile. "Do I mind having an audience, should you land me on my backside again, in other words. No, I do not. I just need.... practice. A break." She scuffed one boot against the deck, vaguely guilty for voicing the sentiment. "From indefatigable chatter."

Kurt nodded, understanding that bordered on amusement flashing in the grey of his eyes. "Everyone has their limits, Green Blood, that's no failing." He stepped closer, clapped a hand to her shoulder. "Below decks will suit just fine."

She flashed a grateful smile and they retrieved practice blades before heading down to the lowest holds. Best to not risk damaging anything with real weapons, no matter their respective skill.

She did need this, Vesper mused, blunted rapier in hand as she took up position. Even aside from--temporarily--avoiding Constantin, she should polish up her skills. Words had always been her preferred weapon, but they were heading to a new and largely uncharted island. She highly doubted any wildlife would respond to silver-tongued negotiation as well as Gacane gentry.

She couldn't always leave defense to Kurt. (Even if he would argue yes she could, it was his job.)

The thought of her bodyguard pulled her from her reverie, and Vesper found him watching her. "Sorry."

He didn't comment on her moment of distraction. "Your move, Excellency. Seeing as it's just us."

"Ah, yes, you don't have underlings to fling at me first," Vesper teased.

"I'll just have to make up the difference, won't I?" Kurt drawled. "One to one's better if you wanna work on a specific weakness, anyway."

She tipped her head in concession and tested the feel of the dulled rapier. "Always looking to improve." She missed the back-up of her pistol, but that would be unwise on a ship even if this wasn't just practice. She studied Kurt's stance, looking at feet, hips, shoulders for hints how he would defend. She made two strikes to his right side, then feinted a third before making the actual attempt left.

Kurt parried them all, though barely for the third, and shifted offensive even as he laughed. "Very good, Green Blood. Keep the hilt up more an' you'll be in a better position to guard."

He punctuated the words with a swipe toward her sword hand. Vesper instinctively dropped her arm to avoid it. This lowered her blade and left her vulnerable to his when he swung back. She only just corrected in time.

"I see why you want to work on it," Kurt said, pressing his advantage, "but your reflexes are quick enough to balances out most weaknesses."

As if if to underscore the 'most', Vesper's heel caught on something and she stumbled even as she deflected his strike. "You're very sweet, Kurt, but we both know swordplay isn't my forte." She regained her balance, but too slow to entirely avoid another hit. She winced as his blade caught her wrist.

"Adapting is, though," he countered, blocking her return strike and grinning when the follow up actually glanced off his shoulder. "You're better at rolling with change than damn near anyone I've met in my life."

"Hm, well, thank" --blocked--"you." --blocked. She remembered his advice and kept her hand in a better position. "It's a skill I've cultivated thanks to my dear cousin pulling me into ever-changing circumstance."

Kurt laughed. "He does that."

"Not that I mind," Vesper hastened to add. She wrinkled her nose as Kurt's blade tapped her hip. He was holding back and that wasn't what she wanted. "I love Constantin dearly, but-"

"He has a habit of gettin' you in situations," Kurt said, amused, and abandoned all pretense of sparring, leaning on the blunted zweihander instead. "Green Blood, I've helped you get him out of more of 'em than I care t' count. You don't have to pretty your words around me."

"Suppose you do know both of us well," Vesper said with a sheepish chuckle. "I've appreciated your backup on those occasions, by the by."

"Just doin' my job," he said with a shrug.

She believed that about as much as she believed in flying dogs. "On that note, are we done so fast?" she asked.

Kurt's smile matched her own mood. "Though you might want a breather."

"Considerate, but I doubt brigands or beasts will show the same courtesy."

"Well, then." He swung the sword back up into position. "We can continue, if you'd rather."

Mindful of overextending herself, Vesper still stepped forward to strike at his knees and then shoulder in quick succession. Her gamble on speed over strength half-paid off. She didn't hit his shoulder, but she did catch just below his elbow as he got the zweihander up to block.

Kurt nodded approvingly, then aimed two hefty blows at her right side--in almost as quick succession as she'd done.

Vesper didn't have time to dwell on the strength it would take to do so; she was too busy trying to keep her guard balanced and deflect at the same time. She blocked the first one. Hopped over a crate jutting out. Half-blocked the second, but it caught her enough to knock her off balance. She sat down hard, dropping her rapier in the process.

Rather than hold his sword to her neck or something too mark victory, Kurt offered her a hand up.

"Clearly I still need work," Vesper deadpanned as she accepted.

"You are improving, though," Kurt said. "And I think you're better than you credit yourself."

She opened her mouth to contradict, to tease he was biased because he'd taught her, but closed it again. Aside from being a skilled swordsman, Kurt had never once shined her--or Constantin--on regarding skill. Honest assessment, only and always. "Thank you," she said instead.

He tipped his head. "D' you want to go again, or are you satisfied for now, Excellency?"

"Perhaps one more?" Vesper asked, almost apologetic, her nose wrinkling.

"As y' wish." Kurt let go of her hand and stepped back to take his stance again.

Vesper mirrored the action, running scenarios in her head, trying to gauge adjustments. Kurt didn't wait for her this time; going on the offensive with several attacks meant to immediately overwhelm. Despite that, she did much better this time--she even hit him once or twice--before her back thumped the hull. Mind your surroundings.

Kurt and his blade pressed close enough to spell her end if he actually bore her ill will. But only for a moment, before the sword lowered.

"Fast learner, Green Blood," he said approvingly as he disengaged and took a seat on one of the nearby crates, signaling an end. "Always were; shouldn't surprise me."

Vesper raked dark brown hair out of her eyes and perched on another crate, facing him with their legs crowded together. "I have a good teacher, which certainly helps," she said lightly.

Kurt grunted and waved off the praise. "It still needs work, mind, but you're comin' along."

She hummed a laugh. "Well. Good I have you watching my back until I improve, then."

"That's my job." His gaze dropped to the crates and he snorted a laugh. "Well. There's irony for you." He shifted, giving the crate Vesper sat on a light kick.

"I saw," she said with a smile. The Coin Guard seal and bright swipe of colored marking had been hard to miss. "I'm glad to see they're safe, after the machinations it took to get them aboard."

She wished he wasn't so quick to deflect compliments, but she'd let him get away with it. For now.

"Aye." They both looked up as voices floated from above, and Kurt pushed to his feet. "S'ppose we should make our way topside, before your cousin works himself into a right fit at you bein' missin'."

Vesper laughed as stood as well. "You do know us well."

His eyes gleamed as he gestured for her to lead up the stairs. "Well enough to say I'm more than willing to distract when you need a break from the role of listening ear."

She paused on the stairs, sure her merriment showed on her face as she looked back. "A sacrifice most appreciated, noble captain."

Kurt gave a half-serious salute and Vesper laughed before resuming course for the upper decks. It had been nice to have someone play the listening ear to her, for once.

[necrotic-nephilim]

Any ships you don’t like in the batfam fandom that is popular?

OOOH this is such a fun question because I have quite a few

StephCass - i'll be honest this is one of those ships where the fandom ruined it for me. because 2000s StephCass is an elite dynamic, they care for each other so deeply. but the fandom has been intent on defanging and purifying this ship. i don't know *why* but StephCass seems most popular with the anti-Batcest crowd who get very mad if you compare it to ships they deem Batcest. i have an entire meta commentary on this in my drafts I'll likely never post discussing why the only reason StephCass gets the pass for not being Batcest ties directly into misogyny (because the women of the Batfam need to exist as love interests first, not family members so Steph was never going to truly get to exist as a "full" Batfam member so long as she could remain a viable love interest for Tim, and the same can apply to Babs, Helena, and even Cass in some cases) and that just sours me to it. like if i want yuri in Batfam i think there are far more interesting/fucked up ships for Steph like Babs/Steph or Helena/Steph. and when it comes to what i'd actually like to see in canon, i don't want to see Steph relegated to love interest of a Batfamily member, even if it's queer. let her date and exist outside of Gotham the way every other Batfam member gets to, DC *please*.

Bruce/Selina - i can't fully articulate why this ship isn't my thing, it just isn't. i think i just can't conceivably agree with Selina letting go of so many of her fundamental morals and beliefs for the sake of a man, even one she loves such as Bruce. ironically, i think that's one of the few things Gotham War got right about these two. the only canon love interest i like for Bruce is Zatanna and i mourn we'll never get much of that.

JayRoy - i will admit when i was newer to DC the first comics i picked up for Jason were all New-52 and i shipped this. but now that i'm a pre-Flashpoint truther and i've actually read well-written Roy Harper comics, i only see the flaws in this ship. ngl if ppl were actually fun and interesting with it, playing with the idea of Roy knowing Jason as Robin and still seeing him as just Dick's little brother who's gone a little mental, it *could* be fun. but this Red Hood & the Outlaws (2011) and Red Hood/Arsenal (2015) dynamic *butchers* the fuck out of Roy and strips him of everything interesting. and even as a Batfamily stan, my number one pet peeve is when other DC characters get *butchered* in a Batfamily character's book just for the sake of propping up the Bat as some kind of savior. free Roy Harper from this mans.

Bruce/Oliver - we could be here all day if i listed all the Bruce ships i don't like, but i figure this one has to be included. because oh my god either the people shipping this *really* don't understand Oliver Queen or they just hate his ass because why would you subject Oliver to this man. he can't *stand* Bruce. i really hate the popular BruOliie shipping dynamic of like "oh they were boarding school besties" because if you want that, you *should* like Bruce/Zatanna, not these two. Oliver just always gets butchered in these fics and i won't stand for it.

Tim/Bernard - the ESSAYS i could write on this ship and why i dislike it. the fucking *fear* DC (and most popular media tbh) has with depicting queer relationships as anything other than totally perfect and cute for fear of accusations of homophobia has stripped this ship of *any* real grit. Bernard is a non-character in Tim Drake: Robin, he exists to cheer Tim on and prop him up and just be The Boyfriend. we occasionally get glimpses of an interesting character with really interesting trauma and nothing is *done* with it bc at the end of the day, Tim and Bernard must be perfect and cute. what's fun about Tim is he is the *worst* boyfriend alive. that boy is *ass* at dating. all of his relationships are rich with conflict and yet the moment he dates a guy suddenly all of his flaws vanish? i hate it. i mourn what this could've been if we kept messy Tim Drake and had a Bernard who was actually informed by his trauma. DC please let gays be messy again. also of all of Tim's 90s/00s friends to bring back as a love interest, Bernard Dowd was just a *bizarre* fucking choice. Sebastian Ives was *right* there come on now.

Any Crossover Ship - look if crossovers are your cup of tea i'm happy for you but oh my god if i have to see that little green ghost boy or that ladybug girl in the Batfam one more time i think i may explode. i have a lot of thoughts on *why* i think specifically Danny Phantom and Miraculous Ladybug get crossed over as often as they do with the Batfam, but i don't think anyone wants to year that. my only exception to this is Jason/Bucky Barnes, but it *has* to be comics!Bucky. like. Judd Winick's Jason and Ed Brubaker's Bucky would hatefuck and that i wish to see it. any other crossover ship (especially the Peter Parker ones that seem to be rising in popularity) just do *not* do it for me.

honestly besides that i don't think i dislike many ships. (aside from being super opinionated on Bruce ships, but that's mostly bc ppl will use him to butcher the character they ship him with) there are some ships i'm neutral to because i simply do not know enough to have an opinion (like Dick/Wally). i guess the only Batcest ship i'm not particular to is Bruce/Damian, but I wouldn't say that one is popular nor would i say i dislike it, just that it's not my cup of tea. most Batcest ships click for me in one way or another because i like their Weird dnyamics. i guess i could also say i dislike most ships that have come out of Young Justice (tv) because. oh my *god* why were those group of characters put together on a team. it's baffling. but even then it's not disliking those ships, it's moreso disliking that show's depiction of those characters so. everything is really dependant on the canon context for me!