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charlietheepicwriter7 · 8 days

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V The Mysterious Wayne Family

Dick Grayson V Gotham - Chapter 2

“Why can’t I sit in the front seat?” Danny demanded to know, crossing his arms from the back of Dick’s car.

Dick sighed, peering back at him with the rearview mirror. He’d been shaky as they escaped the apartment without getting attacked by the media. Did the idiot get sick? Was the media in this dimension such a big threat?

Truthfully, Danny didn’t know a lot about this dimension, despite having lived in it for around a year. That year was spent almost entirely homeless, spending only the last few weeks with Dick. Otherwise, he was sleeping where he could, spending his days in libraries and conning people out of cash as a child medium.

…Well, calling it “conning” was a bit of an overstatement. He did get people in contact with dead relatives and the like. He just… didn’t always quote them exactly, especially when it meant he could get enough money to eat for the day.

“It’s unsafe, Danny, you know that.”

Danny glared at him from his booster seat, which put him perfectly at eye level so he could lock eyes with Dick with the rear-view mirror. He hated this whole situation: the booster seat, his age, needing to rely on an adult, the stupid media, the stupid police, the stupid Dick… Okay, he kinda liked the booster seat. It was based off of some hero—Superbman—who was an alien? But looked like a human?

That may be one of the biggest differences between this dimension and his hom–the dimension he was born in. Danny had been one of the only heroes back there, along with Valerie and Dani, if you could even call them heroes. In this dimension? There were hundreds. There were space aliens to normal people in costumes to other humans with powers, and while not all of them were heroes, a lot of them were.

And Danny hated how easy they had it.

Every day back in Amity Park was a fight for acceptance, a battle to convince people that yes, he was a ghost with good intentions, only for that trust to be lost the moment he wasn’t fast enough to stop a ghost from hurting someone, or got thrown through a wall trying to protect people. It was constantly one step forward and one step back, and nothing Sam or Tucker or Jazz said ever truly made him okay with it.

Despite everything, he hoped Amity Park was doing alright without him. He couldn’t go back—wouldn’t go back, even if he had an open portal and his powers, not after what happened—but hopefully they were doing okay.

He hoped his rogues had listened and stayed away from the Fenton portal. For their own safety.

Like every time he thought of his pa–the Fentons, the scars across his chest flared up. They might have been long-healed, but the pain always lingered, a sharp lance that lingered in the thin skin of his wound. Fiddling around in his pocket, Danny found his juul and puffed. Exhaling, a bubble gum smoke filled the cabin as the CBD started to work its way into his blood.

Dick coughed. “You know you won’t be able to do that in the manor, right?”

Danny grumbled, rolling down the window a crack.

“I’m serious, Danny. I know you need it, but the rules are different at the manor. You’ll need to go outside to smoke.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll smoke outside. Wouldn’t want your gramps to get bent out of shape.”

He laughed. “I think Alfred would be alright, once we explain your medical issues. It’s Bruce we’ll have to worry about. He’s got this thing about drugs… once he learns what’s in your juul, he do whatever it takes to get you off it. He won’t even listen if we tell him about your chronic pain, he’ll just think you’re lying!” Dick threw his hand up in the air. “Honestly, it’s just lecture after lecture with him.”

“He can suck a cock then!”

Dick laughed, all traces of anger gone as his bright eyes glanced at him through the mirror. “Say that to his face, and you get ice cream for a week.”

“Done!”

The illusive Bruce Wayne. Danny had heard the name from the TV that morning, and apparently he was Dick’s dad. Not that Dick ever mentioned him in the months they knew each other. Not that this Bruce guy ever visited on the occasions Dick managed to convince him to stay the night, nor in the weeks after his foster placement was finalized. Danny didn’t even know Dick had a dad until this morning, so clearly something was going on here.

If he focused on this case—the mystery behind the estrangement of Dick and Bruce—then he’d finally be able to get his mind off Mrs. Bennett’s case. The Shade had approached him early that morning, flickering in the moonlight, barely visible and just formed. Her case was so easy too; her killer was her son-in-law, she’d been awake when he killed her and he’d definitely left behind evidence too, but there was no telling if the other detectives at Bludhaven PD would find it. Or would care enough to find it.

Corrupt bastards.

Speaking of which—”Are we actually going to be able to consult on cases while we’re in Gotham, or was that just something you said to make me feel better?”

“I believe I said case, as in the singular one with Mrs. Bennett. But yes, I’ve already arranged it with the Commissioner.”

“But she works for the Damir family! We can’t trust her.”

“We can’t trust her when it comes to cases related to the Damir family,” Dick corrected. “Other than that, she’s decent at her job.”

“That’s not a compliment.”

“She’s better than the other officers in our department?” he tried again.

“Also not a compliment. I’ve met dead guys that are better cops.”

They bantered back and forth, but the closer they got to Gotham, the tenser Dick became. Dick wasn’t the type to get serious out of nowhere—the only times Danny could remember were when a case involved a gang or that one terrible time when some ugly-ass assassin with a stupid-ass name came to town—but whatever was waiting for them… must be bad. Right?

Gotham, Danny noticed as they drove through town, looked better than Bludhaven, like how rats look better than turds. Danny had heard the rumors about Gotham, mostly about all the dangerous villains, but there was clearly some money going into infrastructure. Beautiful gothic buildings dripping with gargoyles towered overhead, and there weren’t nearly as many boarded up shops and potholes.

It wouldn’t have been a bad place to set up shop if it weren’t for all the Shades around.

The ghost population of this dimension mostly comprised of Shades with the occasional Poltergeists and Wraiths. Ectoplasm wasn’t as accessible here; just traveling to this dimension had stripped Danny of almost all the ectoplasm in his body and he still hadn’t recovered, so his powers barely worked. But Shades were shadows of humans when they were alive, weak and incorporeal unless you were a ghost too, barely kept together with their obsession.

Bludhaven had a lot of Shades. That’s why Danny settled down there when he first arrived. He wanted to help people move on if he could, either by solving their murder or contacting their loved ones.

If Bludhaven had a lot of Shades, Gotham had a colossal number.

Shades clogged the walkways and the streets, dissipating when someone or something went through them and reforming in an instant. Some alleys were plugged with them and some alleys were empty. Danny watched with wide eyes. Ghosts were supposed to be rare. He’d thought ghosts were rare. But Gotham was plagued with violent crime… violent, unique, indescribable crime, worse in intensity from Bludhaven, but not quite there in frequency. There were women with their faces melted off, men ripped in half down the center, children blown to bits, creeping around the streets of Gotham.

Danny sunk down in his booster seat. “I want to go home,” he admitted quietly.

Dick sighed. “I know, kiddo. I want to go home too.”

He blinked away stubborn tears. Dick didn’t understand. This wasn’t Danny’s home, this dimension wasn’t Danny’s home, Dick wasn’t Danny’s home (as much as Danny appreciated Dick, he wanted his family, but they hated him, they attacked him, they—)

Dick continued talking. “But you know what? Everything’s going to be okay. Because my grandfather is going to love you. And Bruce— He’s a little rough around the edges and we might not get along right now, but he’s going to love you too.” Dick sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than Danny. “Tim’s going to adore you; he’s told me that he’s always wanted a younger sibling and I can’t blame him; his house looks so lonely and his parents were always gone. He’s staying with Bruce now as a foster since his dad’s in a coma, but he’s been family long before that…”

He listened to Dick continue to ramble about his family. Bruce was rarely touched upon in his stories, but Alfred was spoken of with unmistakable love (Danny never knew his grandparents, Mom and Dad were disowned years before he was born, he could probably guess why), and he clearly adored Tim (He could understand that, Danny loved Jazz with his entire soul, but what would it have been like if he had a younger sibling? Would his relationship with Dani have turned into this if they could’ve spent time together?). Dick continued with stories about his best friend and ex-girlfriend, Barabra (Sam and Tuck, Tuck and Sam, his friends were dead and it's his fault—), and even a few including Tim’s ex-girlfriend too.

He closed his eyes and tried not to think.

Before long, the car slowed to a stop. Ahead of them was a grand manor, the kind shown in those regency tv shows that Jazz loved watching, with obsessively maintained gardens and beautiful, clean exterior. A stone staircase led up to larger-than-life wooden doors; Danny couldn’t identify what kind of wood, but it was probably something expensive and old. Mahogany? That sounded like an expensive wood.

Dick put the car in park before turning around in his seat to look at Danny. “Alright, buddy. Are you ready to meet our family?”

“Your family,” Danny corrected mulishly, unbuckling his seat belt.

“Our family,” Dick said again, smiling. “They’re good people, and they’re going to be here for you.”

“Sure.” Sliding out of his seat and out of the car, Danny stayed slightly behind Dick as they walked up the steps and to the front door. Before Dick could knock or find the doorbell, the doors opened to reveal an old stereotypical butler. He even had a British accent! “Master Grayson,” he addressed Dick coolly, but when he looked at Danny, his expression softened. “And Young Master Daniel. It is good to finally meet you, and welcome to Wayne Manor. I am the family butler, Alfred Pennyworth.”

Danny ducked away. “Danny’s fine,” came his muttered response.

Alfred smiled. “Young Master Danny, then. Come along; Master Bruce is waiting for you both in the foyer.”

Dick grimaced. Did that mean something bad? What was a foyer, a fancy word for office? Was Dick going to get scolded?

They followed Alfred into the house (although, calling it a house felt like an understatement). It was even fancier inside, with marble floors and a glistening chandelier overhead. Danny felt significantly out of place in his jeans and ratty coat he’d pulled out of the trash.

There was a man pacing in the room (was this the foyer?). He was dressed in a fancy suit and built like a brick house, but looked similar enough to Dick in a weird funhouse-mirror way. The moment he saw them, his face smoothed into a banal smile and Danny immediately didn’t like him. “Dick! You’re home.” Striding up to them, the man immediately hugged Dick, who stiffly returned it. “Welcome back, chum. And who’s this?”

Dick’s smile was strained. “This is my foster son, Danny. Danny, this is Bruce; I was his ward until I turned 18.” Ouch. Not even a foster son, but a ward? That sounded like a significant step down from fostering. Danny glared at Bruce, who seemed taken aback by his hostility. Dick laughed nervously. “Sorry about him, he’s shy.” Now Danny glared at Dick.

Bruce’s smiled evened out as he crouched down, like that would hide his fucking massive body. “It’s nice to meet you, Danny,” he said. “I’m very happy you're here. Hopefully it’ll be a lot more peaceful now that you’re staying with us.”

Danny scowled. “Suck a cock, douchebag.”

Bruce’s smile dropped as Dick smothered a laugh. “Watch your mouth,” Dick scolded without any heat behind it. Danny smirked.

“It’s okay, Dick,” Bruce said, straightening up. “I’m sure Danny’s just shaken up from the sudden change. I’m feel the same, since you didn’t tell any of your friends or family that you were taking in a child.”

“Oh, so you can adopt a child without telling anyone, but when I do it—”

Alfred stepped in. “If you both could contain yourselves a minute longer, I can get the Young Masters settled in. I’ve already arranged a room for you in the family ward, Young Master Danny, if you’d like to rest? It is still rather early in the morning.”

“It might be better to give him a tour of the manor before anything else,” Dick said, eyeing Danny warrily.

“I’m not going to get lost.”

“Mhmm.” Dick didn’t believe him.

“I’m not!”

“Just like how you didn’t get lost at the precinct? Or at the morgue? Or at—”

“I never got lost on the streets!” Danny thought that was rather impressive. Besides, it’s not his fault the morgue was just empty hallways that all looked the same!

“The streets are labeled. Besides, you’ll never know where the in-house theater is without a tour.” Dick winked, like that was a big selling point.

Bruce interrupted them. “Why don't you give him a tour after we talk, Dick? It’s been a long time since we last spoke and I was hoping to ask you about your… recent life change.”

Dick pinched the bridge of nose. “Of course you want to start the interrogation right away,” he muttered, eyebrows furrowed. “Alright, but I don’t want Danny to hear this. Alfie, could you– Tim!” Following Dick’s glance, Danny found a teenager in his fancy pajamas standing on the stairs leading to the second floor. The teen, who looked enough like Dick to be his brother and Bruce’s son, rubbed his eyes like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Tim can take you on the tour! Come on, Danny.”

Dick ushered Danny up the stairs to Tim. “Will you be okay without me?” Danny asked, not wanting to leave Dick alone with Bruce.

He got a bright smile in return. Danny didn’t trust it. “Of course I will, kiddo. Don’t worry about me, just focus on having fun with Timmy.”

Tim looked blearily between them. “What is going on?”

“You’re taking Danny on a tour so he doesn’t hear me and Bruce fight,” Dick told him plainly. “Danny, this is my brother and Bruce’s foster son, Tim. Tim, this is my foster son, Danny. You two have fun!”

Ignoring Tim’s protests that he hadn’t had breakfast yet, Dick pushed them up the stairs and into the immediate hallway, closing the door behind him. They stared at each other for a moment before Danny pressed his ear against the crack in the door. “When did Dick get a kid?” Tim asked.

“Like, three weeks ago, keep up.” Tim tried to say something again, but Danny shushed him. After a moment, Tim joined him in eavesdropping by the door.

Dick spoke. “I’ll start. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you both I was fostering a kid. I was planning to inform you after the two month mark and Danny had settled in a bit more, but obviously that plan is out the window.”

“I accept your apology, Master Dick,” Alfred said, and there was a sigh of relief. “However, I would still like to know how this happened in the first place.”

“I’m more interested in knowing how you managed to foster him without us being interviewed as character references.”

“...I may have used my boss’ influence to make sure that only my co-workers were interviewed?” Dick admitted.

“Master Richard.”

“I’m sorry, Alfie, but he’s a flight risk! Do you know how many times I managed to get him to come home with me only for him to disappear in the middle of the night!? Fourteen times! Danny’s admitted that he ran away from his previous home, he still hasn’t told me his real last name, and he’s paranoid enough to give Bruce a run for his money! I’ve just barely managed to gain his trust. I didn’t need Bruce being Bruce to ruin it for us—”

“If you had asked me to stay away, I would have—”

“No you wouldn’t, Bruce! You’d pick and prod and try to uncover his every little secret because you don’t trust me to figure it out myself! If Danny had suspected that someone was looking into his past, he would have bolted, B. And I would have lost him forever.”

Danny nodded. He would have. Not that Bruce would have found anything about his past–the perks of getting stuck in an alternate dimension–but some rich asshole poking his nose in his business? Danny would have snuck onto the next bus out of the city.

“You can barely take care of yourself, Dick!” Bruce insisted. “If it was such a dire situation, then you could have contacted me and I would have–”

“–Lost him immediately because he has a strange hatred for billionaires?” Dick scoffed. “He wouldn’t let you get within six feet of him if you tried to take custody.”

“I–”

“He bites too.”

“Dick–”

“Hard.”

“Richard–”

“And it’s pretty bold of you to say I can’t take care of myself. Have you looked in the mirror recently? Because the word hypocrite is written across your forehead in crayon.”

“But I’m not the one who struggles to make rent each month.” Danny flinched. He’d known that Dick didn’t get paid that much, but was it really that bad? Didn’t Dick get a pay increase when he was made detective? Or was Danny taking so much money that it negated the pay increase— “Nevertheless, I’m not trying to take custody away from you, Dick. I’m just… trying to figure out how we got to this point.”

“We got to this point by not trusting each other,” Dick said tiredly. “And I still don’t trust you, not after what you did.”

Dick, I–”

“No, Bruce. This is my life. Besides you were only a few years older than me when my parents died and you decided to raise me on your own. It’s hypocritical for you to complain that I’m doing the same. Look, I’ve known Danny for over a year–”

“You mean you’ve hid this from me for over a year?”

“Bruce–”

“I knew I should have been suspicious when you got that foster license. You’ve been planning this for months–”

“Bruce!” Dick snapped, and Danny had never heard Dick that mad before, not even the first time they met. “Obviously I’ve been planning this for months! I’ve been planning this since the first week I met Danny! The only reason I got that damn license was for him!” He felt… warm. Danny knew that foster licenses were hard to get, but Dick had really wanted him since the week they met. Danny had been so… feral back then, he couldn’t imagine anyone wanting him, not even Jazz. Dick continued, voice barely audible through the door. “He’s a good kid. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

A sigh. “I just… don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret, that’s all.”

“Are you saying you regret adopting me?” The angry voice was back. “Adopting Jason?”

“That’s not what I meant—!”

Tim pulled him away from the door. “We shouldn’t be listening to this. Come on, let’s start that tour you need.”

Danny tried to pull away, but Tim was deceptively strong for his thin frame. Despite his struggles, he was halfway down the hall before he knew it. “Let me go, cocksleeve!”

“You don’t need to hear that,” Tim said. “Trust me, things always get… heated between them, when Jason is brought up. That’s not something you need to witness.”

Jason, huh? That must be the linchpin in this entire investigation. Dick had never mentioned a Jason before, but he was clearly important if the entire family got bent out of shape for him. Did Dick cut contact with Bruce because of this Jason? Did Jason force Dick to do it? Dick would never abandon his family like that, Danny knew this had to be true because of his determination in trying to take Danny home, but if he was forced to stay away… Maybe Jason is an associate of Bruce that Dick hates?

Danny finally managed to jerk his arm away. His entire hand ached. “You don’t have to drag me!”

Shock crossed Tim’s face, like he’d finally realized what he was doing, before it fell. “I’m sorry, Danny. I shouldn’t have pulled you. It’s just… Jason isn’t something you should hear about, at your age. I would appreciate it if you didn’t bring him up, especially around Bruce. Okay?”

Studying the boy, Danny agreed. Sounds like Jason’s some sort of criminal contact, so it was best to behave carefully. Danny kicked at the ground, scraping dirt off onto the carpet that ran in the center of the hall. “So, what do you guys do for fun around here?” He asked. “I don’t need a tour, I’m not a baby.”

Tim rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I just spent the night in the library, working on a case? If you want to lend a hand with that?”

Danny narrowed his eyes. “I thought you just woke up?”

“...Just because I was in the library doesn’t mean I was awake the entire time.”

Ah, a fellow insomniac. His eyes narrowed further. “I only like interesting cases. What kind are we talking about? Fraud? Robbery? Some dinky school kid project?”

“Multiple homicides. If that’s interesting enough for you?”

“...Carry on.”

A/N: Anyway, I’m using @/jedipirateking’s age chart for the ages of Batman characters. Since we’re right before Under the Red Hood, that makes Dick 24. Danny is roughly a year younger than Damian, but was originally 17 before he was deaged.

Dick: Yes, this is my feral street child. Danny: *foaming at the mouth, swearing*

Tim, internally: Oh! Dick must have already informed Danny about our identities! They work on cases together too, maybe we can work on one to bond? Danny, internally: Wow, rich people have weird ass hobbies

Danny: *so close, yet so far from figuring out the Jason thing* Red Hood: Did someone just walk over my fucking grave again?

Yes, some things are being kept vague on purpose. That’s for a better reveal in the future.

@starlightcat04 @maeashryver @widderwise @darkstarsapocalypse @sisma @luminanightfall @storm-fire98 @amyheart19 @collectingthegoods @redhoneysugarorange @lordfirecat2004 @screechingnoises @meira-3919 @dannyphannypack @satisfactionbroughtmeback @rowanaway-fromthisbs @i-always-say-yea @avelnfear @some-rotten-nest @ark12 @heirxofxtime @akikkobara @blep-23 @skulld3mort-1fan @markus209 @stargirl1331 @onlyhereforthechaos @inth3world @awkwardmaiden @fantasticbluebirdfan @currant-owo @alice-hazelwood @screamingtofillthevoid @crystalqueertea @gaelicholiday @gmkelz11 @mattybook1987-blog @bytheoldwillowtree @apointlessbox @chemical-pepis @ghostface3100 @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @bathildaburp @boo-ghosties @bubblemixer @halfalix @lyra689 @dragon-dancer16 @lunadoll36 @mimilikey @hellomygay @frogs-are-pretty-awesom @overtherose @cyrwrites @your-emo-nightmare @lexdamo @roman4517 @a-slytherinish-gryffindor @raginblastocyst @thegatorsgoose @fisticuffsatapplebees @olivethetreebitch @vixen-uchiha @ae-vixrose @joseph557 @kisatamao @gin2212 @thewondersoflebanon @d4ydr34min9 @malice-of-the-sunrise @tiblii @that-awkward-fae-nerd @aph-mable @dolfay @ghostreblogging @wackyattack @writer-extraordinaire @boo-ghosties @coruscateselene @emergentpanda-blog

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dpxdc #constantine jr au #c: danny fenton #c: nightwing #c: tim drake #c: alfred pennyworth #c: bruce wayne #c: jason todd #fictag dgvg

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olderthannetfic · 7 months

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I wish the people writing reader inserts a very merry PLEASE actually TAG your reader insert as "reader insert". Every time I THINK I've finally filtered out every variation of reader insert fictags some dipship decides to come up with their own new and quirky tag for it.

Yes, people are more than allowed to write their reader inserts, and I will always champion their right to do so, but that does not take away that it drives me absolutely crazy that none of these people seem to be able to agree on a universal tag for something that, in my eyes, already has one.

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thestraggletag · 8 months

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Okay, the intrigue around "The thing" becomes unbearable! I need this thing now.

Please 😉

Happy to oblige. And also I'm sorry in advance.

WELCOME TO RUMBELLE, YOU SWEET SUMMER CHILD. I SEE YOU THERE, SO YOUNG, SO FRESH, SO WOOBIE. LET ME SLOWLY CLASP YOU TO MY BOSOM IN A MOTHERLY WAY.

NOW YOU STUMBLE AROUND, A LITTLE LOST RUMBELLE CHICK NEEDING LOVE AND GUIDANCE, TREMBLING WITH THE FORCE OF A THOUSAND BOTTLED-UP FEELS. NEVER FEAR, FOR WE’LL TAKE YOU IN, SINCE YOU HAVE BECOME

ONE OF US.

WE HAVE TEA, FOR YOUR SHATTERED FEELS. WE KNOW IT HURTS, WE’VE ALL BEEN THERE. MOST OF USE JUST DUMP A LOT OF VODKA INTO THAT TEA. IT’D BE EASIER TO JUST DUMP A TEA BAG INTO A BOTTLE OF SMIRNOFF, TO BE HONEST.

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LIKE AN ECLIPSE.

OR RUMPLE’S LEATHER PANTS.

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ALWAYS. RUMBELLERS DON’T SLEEP.

IF YOU FEEL THE NEED FOR SOME LOVELY VISUAL REPRESENTATIONS OF THE UTTER PERFECTION THAT IS THIS SHIP I DIRECT YOU TO THE RUMBELLE ARTTAG, WHERE MANY TALENTED PEOPLE POST TALENTED THINGS THAT PRODUCE BOTH AWE AND ENVY.

AND LAST, AND THIS IS WHAT I’M KNOWN FOR…

WE.

HAVE.

PORN.

NO, NOT LIKE OTHER FANDOMS. NOT SOME PORN. NOT ANY PORN. WE HAVEALL THE PORN.

ALL OF IT.

EVERY KINK.

EVERY FANTASY.

EVERY POSITION.

FOOD SEX, PEGGING, BONDAGE, S&M (BUT THE REAL TYPE, NO INNER GODDESSES, ALL KINKY FUCKERY), CANE PORN, PRIEST PORN, CANNIBAL PORN, SHADOW!SEX, DADDY!DOM, DOM/SUB, BLOODPLAY, MIRROR-SEX, PREGNANCY KINKS, POWER-SEX, INTERSPECIES SEX, LACTATION PORN, DAGGER!PORN, RAPTOR!PORN, MAGICAL SEX AND MANY MORE.

WE HAVE PORN THAT WOULD BE DUBIOUSLY DOABLE IN A PICASSO PAINTING. THE KIND OF PORN THAT MAKES YOU GO "CIRQUE DU SOLEI PERFORMERS COULD NOT PULL IT OFF". THE KIND OF PORN THAT REQUIRES TWENTY YEARS OF YOGA MINIMUM.

I DIRECT YOU NOW TO MY FANFIC REC LIST, WHERE YOU SHALL FIND MANY TREASURES. I ALSO GIVE YOU A REC LIST OF REC LISTS (A LIST-CEPTION, SO TO SPEAK). YOU CAN ALWAYS GO TO THE RUMBELLE FICTAG IF YOU FEEL YOU NEED MORE RUMBELLE PORN FICS IN YOUR LIFE. AND YOU WILL. AND IF YOU WANNA HIT THE MOTHERLOAD OF RUMBELLE FANFICTION CHECK OUT THE RUMBELLE LIBRARY, RIPE WITH DECADENT FICS FOR YOUR PERUSAL.

IN THIS FANDOM WE LIKE TO CELEBRATE WITH FIC, COPE WITH FIC AND START MASSIVE FIC WARS SO THERE ARE SEVERAL YEAR-ROUND EVENTS DESTINED TO BRING FORTH MORE RUMBELLE SEXYTIMES MOMENTS: THE RUMBELLE SECRET SANTA (ORGANIZED THREE YEARS IN A ROW AND TOTALLING AROUND 350 FICS),FLOOFAPALOOZA (FOR WHEN YOU NEED TO GO ‘AWWW’ DESPERATELY), 50 FIRST HAMBURGER DATES (YES, WE GOT IT BAD), THERUMBELLE CHRISTMAS IN JULY (FOR THOSE LONG HIATUS MONTHS) AND THERUMBELLE SHOWDOWN. IT ALL CULMINATES WITH THE T.E.A. AWARDS, WHERE WE MOSTLY CONGRATULATE THE WRITERS ON ALL THE SEX, FLUFF AND TEARS (GREAT PLACE FOR NEWBIES TO ALSO SEEK FIC RECS!).

MIND THE SPOILERS, DEARIE.

BUT IF YOU’RE ALL CAUGHT UP YOU SHOULD TOTALLY CHECK THIS TUMBLR WHICH WILL HOLD PRECIOUS TREASURES SO YOU CAN SURVIVE THE SUMMER HIATUS WITH MOST OF YOUR SANITY INTACT.

WE AIM FOR REALISTIC GOALS HERE.

IF YOU HAVEN’T YET DELETED YOUR TUMBLR ACCOUNT AND MOVED TO A COUNTRY WITHOUT INTERNET CONNECTION THEN CONGRATULATIONS, YOU INDEED HAVE THE MAKINGS OF A GREAT RUMBELLER. AND YOU’RE GONNA LOVE IT HERE.

Welcome to the fandom, dearie.

#WELCOME TO THE FANDOM #RUMBELLE #tascha-schwarz

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hedonistbyheart · 1 year

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I think it's very sexy of the star wars fandom to decide that "stewjoni biology" is just fictag shorthand for "Obi-Wan has really interesting genitalia: writer's choice applies". I love fandom.

#star wars #fanfiction #fic writers really looked at Obi-Wan's non-canon birth planet with no info and went: ANYTHING GOES :D #i love scifi

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minignf · 2 years

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dnf said lets speed run every ao3 fictag in one week

#A CAT CAFE EWKANRFWEKFN #dnf

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perennialslacking · 1 year

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IM SORRY ARC BUT I BELLOWED OUT A LAUGH SEEING YOUR TAG ON THE ZOOM INTO THE FICTAGS POST. RIP. YOU HAVE THE MOST TRAGIC DEATH POSSIBLE.... MY CONDOLENCES

i'm going to start rewatching ninjago s3 and just die instantly. the perfect match machine is going to send me into such a frothing rage that my blood will quite literally boil, cooking me from the inside out. thank u for your sympathy.

#txt #asks #ap-sadistics

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randombubblegum · 2 years

Link

fic title: meet you there

awsten/otto・1800 words・explicit

summary:

Awsten just can’t stop grinning. Otto’s in L.A. and Otto’s in his apartment and Otto’s in his bed. He never wants the chaos of the album release cycle to end if it keeps Otto here with him.

HIIIII i dusted off an old wip from the week gh dropped and awsten was being all cute and silly and in love with otto to finish now becauseeeeee........ THE AWTTO TAG FINALLY BEAT GAWSTEN ON AO3!!!!! 🎉🎊🎉🎊🎉

when i was posting my first fic back in summer of last year, there were only 2 full pages of awtto fic. like, maybe <50 total? and now in less than a year and a half we’ve steamrolled past the established “main ship” tag and filled it with what is easily the best writing in the fandom. this was definitely a group effort and it’s been so so fun watching the creativity and talent of our little awtto nation day after day :’) not gonna say anymore lest i get sappy but we poppin the BIGGEST bottles🍾🍾 and i’ll leave you with this:

#PARTY AT MY PLACE THERES GONNA BE A CHAMPAGNE TOWER!!!!!!!#this is rly just a little smoopy cuddly one-shot dont let the rating fool u into thinking its a pwp lol :')#AHHHH im so happy. thanks for letting me be the one to knock us over into the new era (total awtto supremacy)#awtto #awtto fic #fictag #waterparks fic

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bakedbakermom · 9 months

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okay who out there in my void is as insane about x-files and buffy as i am bc i need a second set of eyeballs on my crossover fic as i work through it. at the very least tell me if i've got the characterization/dialogue right because i am having so much fun playing dolls with these characters that i maaaaaaaaay have gone (more than) a little bit insane.

#txf #btvs #fictag #stained #(though i may be changing that title)

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capricious-and-melodramatic · 3 years

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Sending Crystal

A quiet curse came from Dorians sending crystal. Luckily this time I was while he was in the study and not on the Magisterium floor. At least last time while he was on the floor, he was the only one who could hear it. Every time he would start his speech he tried so hard not to laugh as a disgruntle little curse coming from his chest.

“Having fun there, Amatus?”

“Fucking so much--” There was an abrupt stop, a twang of a bow, “Maker’s tits, fuck off... Not, not at you Dorian! I’m just--”

“I thought you were going to tell me if you were in the middle of something? I know you’ve been busy-” Arn had recently got some odd jobs with the Jenny’s. Although officially he was retired and living between Kirkwall and a place down in Ferelden. Unofficially he was running all over Thedas, spending some weeks in Kirkwall, or most of his time between the Jenny’s and in a Sanctuary for former Templars ran by a Former Templar and Inquisitor.

“I promise this wasn’t planned. I got some time away, you know. Bandits see someone they wanna attack. No Cupcake put that down, you’re not taking that—okay but let me—The dog found some pretty cloth and now won't let it go. Cupcake you can keep it, just not in your mouth.”

Dorian let out a chuckle. He was yet to meet the fabled Cupcake, a mabari of sorts. While Arn described her as a ‘good girl’, Varric and Cullen had both described her as ‘a massive beast. Too large to call a dog, and a touch shorter than a great bear.’ “She likes pretty things then?”

“Oh yes. She keeps finding strange shiny things while we are out. She has a lovely collar at the moment. I’ll guess you’ll see at some point.” They had talked about seeing each other soon, the magisterium who have its break in a few months. He had book passage down to the South. Spend Wintersend in the bitter Ferelden cold. Not quite what he was looking forward too, but the company would be something.

“It won't be long now,” Dorian comforted. He heard the Mabari bark.

“Yes Cupcake, that’s Dorian. Yes, you’ll get to meet him, are you excited?” Arn asked his dog. Cupcake barked and jumped. “Did you know I’ve had about 4 people in the last 2 weeks ask me if they could breed with Cupcake. Sure I’m flattered, but I don’t know her history. I wrote to Elena and she said that Cullen said that you have to find out the dogs kin and shit before you let them breed, and I really don’t know. I met this guy in the woods.”

“Yes, you’re friend Al. Any chance you’ve seen him again?”

“Not last month while I was around there. Next time I’m that way I’ll ask about him. I don’t think she’s like, ill or anything I just don’t want people coming back and yelling to me about dog things I don’t know anything about.” Arn complained.

“Yes, well you know those Ferelden’s, very stuff about their dogs.”

“How is Snookums by the way?” Arn asked

“Her name is not ‘Snookums’.” Dorian protested.

“We’ll she didn’t answer to Vivienne.”

“She’s a snake...”

“She always perks up when I call her name.” Arn boasted.

Dorian let out a deep sigh. “Maybe it's just you animal magnetism.”

Arn chuckled loudly. “Anyway, how is Tevinter? Still as hot as ever?”

Dorian went on about the dragging sessions in the Magisterium, who was dead from last time, new faces and new blood. Same old same old.

“Oh Dorian,” Arn interjected. “I need to send Cupcake to you, I have to run a few jobs and it’s no place for Cupcake. Is it okay if I send her up? I know Bull is going that way, I have a friend who can pick her up from there and take her into town, if that’s okay. If not I can send her down south with the Rutherford’s. And I mean either one is fine.”

“Of cause,” Dorian wasn’t sure what he was going to do with the Mabari, specially where he was staying. But it would be nice to have some company. “Are you getting Erik to take her in?”

“Yeah, he’ll have some stuff for you as well. You know Erik, he’s good. Thomas is pouting about the whole thing but he just needs to get out more. 40 years in the Circle will kinda make you a bit cranky” Dorian smiled, Thomas was a crusty older gentleman, but Thomas and Erik had never left each other's side since the early days of the Inquisition. “Oh, I won't be able to talk while on the Job, but I’ll at least try to find time once it's over to call.”

“I expected that much.”

“Wonderful! I have to get going but I’ll call you before the job!”

Dorian ended the call. Arn looked down to Cupcake. Bull was in view with the Chargers. “I’ll be a week behind her, she wont be too much trouble.” Arn explained to Bull. Cupcake already started dancing around Krem and Bull’s Kadan.

“She’ll be fine. I didn’t know Mabari could be Qunari sized?”

“I know right? I hope Dorian doesn’t mind.”

“He’s capable.” Bull laughed. “Does he know you’re coming?”

“Nope.” He popped the p. “Erik is gonna keep quiet. He knows where it is, he’ll send me directions.”

“You wont be able to miss it, it’s the most pompous looking house in the street.” Bull chuckled.

#30daysofdorian #dorian pavus #inquisitor x dorian #pavaar #ch: arn #iron bull #the iron bull #fictag #cupcake the mabari

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charlietheepicwriter7 · 16 days

Text

writing is just... ugh, sometimes.

like i'm writing Dick introducing Danny as his foster son to Alfred, Bruce, and Tim. But it's so awkward! Because on one level, I don't know these characters well, and that's creating a barrier. but on the other hand, it's kinda supposed to be awkward? because Dick has been hiding this big secret from everyone (fostering a kid) and he also doesn't talk to his Dad, and Bruce and Alfred are awkward too because they did NOT expect to wake up that morning to discover that Bruce has a grandson.

it's so uncomfortable, I'm going to die.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #constantine jr au #dick grayson vs gotham #fictag DGvG

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dekunobou · 3 years

Link

Shouta’s stomach twists as he stares at the abomination before him; a hulking, stitched chimera with a gaping, drooling maw inches from one of his students. A noumu, probably in possession of multiple quirks, who he couldn’t stop from biting his student in half if it so desired.

Some part of Shouta wonders who it once was, who the base for the noumu was before it became this. He also wonders what quirks it possesses, what it can do, what horror it can wreak on his kids.

#noumu #noumu midoriya #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #midoriya izuku #deku #fic #daemon au #Felt like I should share this here #fic: I'm so sorry that you have to have a body #fictag

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wellthisisembarrassing · 3 years

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Flowers in Iron

Chapter 01 - More cyboyfriends stuff. this one is multi-chapter, but I have no idea if i’ll be able to finish it

This chapter is pretty much just filler and setup for the differences from canon, but this entire fic is set in an AU where some of the characters were just different from the start, but this will come up later.

It’s said by some that relationships forged in fire are the strongest ones. Like iron, like steel, like weapons, gleaming, sharp, and white-hot.

Genos’s core is white hot, his arms glowing with plasma. Lightning arcs around his body, a symptom of his struggling core. Drive Knight is next to him, his arm wrapped around Genos’s waist. They’re falling, plummeting towards a destroyed City Z, battered by a counterattack neither of them saw coming. Genos’s vision is unstable, flickering with the stutter of his core.

“Genos. I request your cooperation.” Drive Knight speaks, and Genos turns towards him, blinking as he tries to clear his vision. It’s clear for only a moment, and he looks up at Drive Knight until it begins to fade again.

“With what?” His voice comes out strained, tinny.

“...I have very little energy left.” Drive Knight answers. “With one of my transformations, I can combine our cores for higher power output.”

Genos squeezes his eyes shut, watching warnings flash across his HUD. His core is on the edge of failing.

“There’s no guarantee it will work, but we may be able to end the fight. Are you with me?”

It's a last resort. It may not work, it may not be enough, but they're running out of everything else. Running out of options. Genos's core is at a tipping point, Drive Knight is out of energy. Running out of time. The ground rushes towards them.

"... Let’s do it." He says.

“Understood.” Drive Knight reaches up, the pieces of his weapon flying towards them. They link into an armor shell as they approach, and Genos blinks away notifications on his HUD as it connects.

“Drive Knight. My core is nearly at it’s limit, and it will explode if it’s pushed. As soon as I give the signal, disconnect. Okay?”

Drive Knight nods, after a short pause. Genos more feels his response than sees it before he lets go, pulling the transformation into place around them.

Genos curls his hands, watching the mech’s hands curl in turn around the handle of the blade that builds itself in front of him. He can feel the engines firing up, slowing their descent and slinging them towards the monster. Psykos-Orochi is focused on the heroes in the rubble below, allowing them to cut her path off.

The sword swings down, striking with a resounding crash that echoes across the battlefield, like a hammer striking an anvil. Psykos shouts something at them from the inside of her construct, her face twisted in anger. The next pieces of weaponized debris are already flying towards them, with life signals on board this time.

Psykos fires at it, but her attack is deflected. Before she can react, the building falls to pieces, the S-Class heroes inside leaping forward to attack. Above them, Tatsumaki rises into the air pieces of the ruined Monster Association headquarters tearing out of the ground with the motion of her arms.

Genos smiles. “This fight is ours.”

The battle was done.

----

It’s not done.

They’re still in the air when the cadre reemerges, announced by a flare of white fire from the ground.

Genos’s core whines louder even as he turns to look, the warnings flashing across his HUD getting more and more urgent. He opens his mouth to warn Drive Knight to begin cancelling the transformation, but he’s choked by the smoke flowing from his artificial lungs.

Notifications blink into Genos’s vision as the transformation disconnects. He supposes a signal has gotten across, even without speaking.

They’re falling, Genos’s body is unresponsive, his core unstable and struggling with the changes to output. Drive Knight is holding onto him again, balancing Genos over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. They can’t fall any faster, and below them, the battle with the cadre begins in earnest.

A blinding flash of energy explodes across the battlefield again and Genos squeezes his eyes shut against it. He closes out alert after alert from his HUD, and braces as Drive Knight calls in his transformation again.

The impact with the ground is softer than he expected. Drive Knight’s Bishop transformation has taken the brunt of the landing, locking into place at the last second. His transformations have slowed, lagging behind the instantaneous activation that he’d had at full power.

Genos slides to the ground from the shoulders of the transformation, testing the connection to his body as he strides forwards. His core winds down, whining as the cooling system finally gets a respite after near-failure.

Drive Knight detransforms, assessing the fight ahead of them. They’re far enough back to see an overview of the battle, and Genos is able to identify some of the figures. Amai Mask and Zombieman strafe around a figure that Genos recognizes as “Homeless Emperor”, dodging the spheres of energy he commands.

Underneath them, more life signatures are working their way upwards.

“Can you still fight?” Drive Knight assesses him for a moment, tilting his head. Genos knows how strange it is to be asking, when he was on the edge of collapse moments ago, but Drive Knight is limited by time, not by his own recklessness.

“For at least a few minutes.” Drive Knight answers. “The fusion depleted more energy than I initially estimated.”

Genos nods. It’s not good news. Drive Knight’s transformations and adaptability make him a valuable asset in such a varied fight, so losing his assistance will be a significant drop in their ability to respond to new enemies. They’ll need to work quickly.

“Let’s go.” Drive Knight says, and Genos turns away, looking for the quickest route in. There are buildings still standing in a ring around the worst of the fight, and he jumps on top of a partially-demolished apartment building, using the momentum to leap across to the next structure. He takes a wide arc, gradually getting closer to stay out of the line of fire from the cadre who are on the surface. On the opposite side of the rubble, he can see Drive Knight doing the same.

As they approach, the other cadre members begin to appear. First comes a small, humanoid creature, Black Sperm, his database identifies. Atomic Samurai steps in to challenge it, and Genos returns to scanning the ground for another enemy.

The next to the surface is Fuhrer Ugly. Amai Mask looks as if he’s going to intercept for a moment, but he’s distracted by an attack from Homeless Emperor. Genos looks over the data on the monster. Extreme strength, speed, and agility. All things Genos can handle.

He crouches, and lunges forward. The sound of concrete disintegrating under the force of his jump and the rush of wind across his face focus him, and he winds up his first blow of the fight.

His fist meets flesh with a resounding crack, sending the monster flying backwards. As Genos lands, the monster recovers, swinging his own punch towards Genos. Genos drops down, sweeping his leg out to kick the monster down. Flipping in midair, Genos punches down, a spiderweb of cracks radiating out from the point of impact. He opens his fists, and his cannons flare.

The flash of fire blinds him for a moment, his optic sensors still off balance from the overload, and the monster knocks him back, sending him flying back. When he skids to a stop and looks up, he sees the injuries on the monster’s face begin to close.

Regeneration. Still something he can handle. He’s fought it before.

He braces on the ground, ready to charge forwards again, but the monster beats him to it, lunging forward with a fist ready. Genos barely has time to react, and he feels the pressure of the blow skim past his face as he dodges. He moves with it, whirling to land a quick punch on the monster’s jaw. As he staggers, Genos flips into a kick, bringing his heel down hard. The ground shudders, rubble rattling around and settling as it connects.

A retaliatory strike grazes his face, and he counters with another cannon blast. The monster falls back, momentarily stunned. Genos takes the moment that it gives him to check on the state of the other heroes. It’s under control. Zombieman has restrained Homeless Emperor, Drive Knight is picking off offshoots of Black Sperm from the edge of the fray as Samurai battles the main body. The other two cadre are facing the remaining group of heroes. Against a cohesive force, instead of one-on-one in the catacombs, they’re struggling.

Movement in front of him brings his vision back to his own opponent. Fuhrer Ugly is back upright. His regeneration is slower than Genos had initially calculated, and the monster’s face twists with fury when he sees Genos still standing. It’s clear that Genos is winning.

Behind the monster, rubble shifts. There’s another threat surfacing. He needs to finish this fight quickly.

Genos charges forwards, his core rising close to full power again, his arms and chest sparking and melting. Even his low-power blast earlier in the fight had caused visible damage, and it slowed his regeneration. This should be enough.

His cannons fire, flashing bright as the blast meets it’s mark. The monster’s torso burns away in a bare moment, the remains toppling to the ground in sync with Genos’s core winding down.

As Genos stands upright again, the rubble behind his defeated opponent begins to fall, destabilized by whatever is escaping from the ruined headquarters. He can hear the other heroes moving in as well, finished with their own fights. They form a semi-circle behind him, readying themselves for the next threat.

It's not a long wait. Just as the first pieces of disturbed concrete settle, the ground explodes. Genos has no time to react before something strikes him, hard. He feels himself hit something as he flies back, and they skid across the ground, Genos struggling to regain his footing.

"It's Garou." Drive Knight says as they stop, his voice crackling. He must have been behind Genos when he was struck.

Genos looks ahead of them as Drive Knight stands, just in time to see one of the other fighters fall, struck by a figure that he barely recognizes. There's almost nothing left of Garou as Genos had fought him. He's a husk, his eyes empty, and Genos charges forward as the other heroes fall back, using their moment of regroup to try and distract Garou.

Garou turns as if feeling his approach, the empty sockets of his eyes suddenly trained on Genos. There’s no time to back off. Genos fires his cannons, watching his opponent slip past the blast. He’s able to dodge the first counter, but the second lands off-center.

Even the light blow rattles him, and he steps back to brace himself. Garou doesn't let up. There’s no hint of the playfulness, however twisted, that he’d had in their previous fight.

Genos loses his footing with the force of the following blows, being pushed back. As he falls, Garou slams a final blow into his chest, sending him flying backwards.

Genos’s back slams into the remains of an apartment building. As he tries to stand, the building collapses. His vision is blocked by the rubble falling, and his vision failing, but he can see the other heroes rushing Garou, and a man in a yellow jumpsuit running in from the distance.

He closes his eyes.

#it's a cliffhanger but you Know he's ok i won't hurt them like in canon #im to weak to do that #drive knight #genos #cyboyfriends #fictag #i'll put the link to ao3 in the replies

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thestraggletag · 1 year

Note

Hello there! I was told to ask you for The Thing? 👀 I am a long time fan of season 1 of Once Upon A Time and Rumbelle, but I am currently watching the rest of the series for the first time!

One The Thing coming up!

WELCOME TO RUMBELLE, YOU SWEET SUMMER CHILD. I SEE YOU THERE, SO YOUNG, SO FRESH, SO WOOBIE. LET ME SLOWLY CLASP YOU TO MY BOSOM IN A MOTHERLY WAY.

NOW YOU STUMBLE AROUND, A LITTLE LOST RUMBELLE CHICK NEEDING LOVE AND GUIDANCE, TREMBLING WITH THE FORCE OF A THOUSAND BOTTLED-UP FEELS. NEVER FEAR, FOR WE’LL TAKE YOU IN, SINCE YOU HAVE BECOME

ONE OF US.

LIKE AN ECLIPSE.

OR RUMPLE’S LEATHER PANTS.

AND SINCE THIS IS A PRETTY COMPLEX FANDOM I DIRECT YOU TO A WELCOME PAGE SO YOU CAN GATHER YOUR BEARINGS AND EXPLORE MORE OF THIS MAGICAL LAND OF CHIPPED CUPS AND SEXY SCALY MEN. IF YOU HAVE QUESTIONS THERE YOU’LL FIND ANSWERS. IF NOT YOU CAN ALWAYS SEEK THERUMBELLE TAG, AND POST QUESTIONS THERE. RUMBELLERS ARE ALWAYS THERE TO ANSWER.

ALWAYS. RUMBELLERS DON’T SLEEP.

AND LAST, AND THIS IS WHAT I’M KNOWN FOR…

WE.

HAVE.

PORN.

NO, NOT LIKE OTHER FANDOMS. NOT SOME PORN. NOT ANY PORN. WE HAVEALL THE PORN.

ALL OF IT.

EVERY KINK.

EVERY FANTASY.

EVERY POSITION.

IT'S LIKE THE WORLD'ST LONGEST-RUN WRITTEN ORGY. JOIN US.

IN THIS FANDOM WE LIKE TO CELEBRATE WITH FIC, COPE WITH FIC AND START MASSIVE FIC WARS SO THERE ARE SEVERAL YEAR-ROUND EVENTS DESTINED TO BRING FORTH MORE RUMBELLE SEXYTIMES MOMENTS: THE RUMBELLE SECRET SANTA (ORGANIZED THREE YEARS IN A ROW AND TOTALLING AROUND 350 FICS), THE RUMBELLE CHRISTMAS IN JULY (FOR THOSE LONG HIATUS MONTHS) AND THE RUMBELLE SHOWDOWN. IT ALL CULMINATES WITH THE T.E.A. AWARDS, WHERE WE MOSTLY CONGRATULATE THE WRITERS ON ALL THE SEX, FLUFF AND TEARS (GREAT PLACE FOR NEWBIES TO ALSO SEEK FIC RECS!).

MIND THE SPOILERS, DEARIE.

BUT IF YOU’RE ALL CAUGHT UP YOU SHOULD TOTALLY CHECK THIS TUMBLR WHICH WILL HOLD PRECIOUS TREASURES SO YOU CAN SURVIVE THE SUMMER HIATUS WITH MOST OF YOUR SANITY INTACT.

WE AIM FOR REALISTIC GOALS HERE.

Welcome to the fandom, dearie.

#rumbelle #welcome to the fandom #loststarsabove

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choupichoups · 4 years

Photo

Press F (Instagram/College AU) Epilogue

Lucas swears he’s the absolute master of undetected stalking. Or: Eliott is instagram famous and Lucas is the disaster gay who accidentally likes his post.

Okay so this is the end end, thank you again for reading!!

Lucas turns over, free arm carelessly swiping up the empty space beside him. Warm fingers drum a loose tune over cold sheets, long unoccupied despite the fact that it’s only nine in the morning. So Eliott did manage to drag his ass up for his photoshoot despite all the pouting and complaining from last night.

With a jaw cracking yawn, he pushes himself off their giant, comfy bed, landing on the floor with a soft thump. He conjures up whatever self restraint he’s gathered over the years to keep from nose diving back into the warm sheets. Eliott had left the curtains drawn over the windows, leaving their room bathed in burnt orange light, the air conditioning humming soft whirs of cool air. It’s the perfect recipe for a morning spent lounging in bed doing nothing.

But alas, he pulls his big boy pants up and drags his feet to the bathroom to follow his boyfriend’s itinerary for the day.

srodulv We’ll be at the west beach behind the big cliff i showed you yesterday Whenever your highness deems it fit to join us Lol nvm we’re inside a cave now Aaand we moved Right at the path when you head down Can’t miss me and my handsome face on a plank

lucallemant why is ur face on a plank less texting more posing

srodulv Being the breadwinnner in this relationship is really a thankless job huh

lucallemant where’s the bread tho???

srodulv THANKLESS

“Lucas, hey!”

He stumbles past the pathetic lumps of sand from where he and Eliott had attempted a friendly little sand castle competition a few days ago, clumsy on his feet as he holds himself back from rushing towards them.

“Morning, Jo,” he greets the photographer first before raising both eyebrows at Eliott, who does, in fact, look perfectly handsome lounging on his plank. As if the sand isn’t digging into the skin of his elbows. As if the sun isn’t beating directly over their heads. Ugh, an abomination.

“Oh hi, Eliott, good morning Eliott!” Eliott says in a mockingly high pitched tone when Lucas fails to say anything else. “How are you doing, Eliott?” he continues in that same annoying voice, prompting Lucas to kick up some sand his way. “I missed you, boyfriend, you’re working so hard, my dear!”

“Ew, shut up.” Lucas laughs, moving to sit beside Eliott when Jo pauses his snapping to adjust some settings on his camera. Despite all the teasing, however, Lucas presses a kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek and throws both legs over one of Eliott’s thighs, hands instinctively searching to intertwine their fingers. “Morning,” he murmurs into the space between their lips, chest fluttering when Eliott brushes their noses together, whipped as the first time.

“Good sleep?” Eliott mutters back, smile melting sweeter when Lucas drops his head on his shoulder with a nod. “We’re almost done here and then we have the rest of the week to ourselves, okay?”

“Okay.” Lucas plays with their tangled hands, fingers stroking light across the back of Eliott’s palms. He almost forgets what they’re actually talking about had it not been for the loud click of a camera shutter coming from his right.

Jo is looking down at his camera when Lucas finally forces himself away from the very optimal cuddle he and Eliott had going on. “You sure you don’t wanna do a joint photoshoot, Lucas?” Jo turns the camera around to show him the photo he’d just taken. “You guys look really good together, it’d be a hit!”

Yeah, no. Lucas snorts, “I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

Jo tuts, “Don’t be like that, this one looks good.”

“Lucky shot, trust me. My face does weird things in front of cameras most of the time,” he prattles out excuses, eyes narrowing when Eliott remains silent as he watches the exchange, laughter clear in his eyes. “Anyway, I’ll be taking a walk while you boys do your thing, alright, don’t have too much fun, drink water often, and I’ll see you,” he clicks his tongue, points to where Eliott is seated, eyes locked on Lucas ever since he arrived, “later. Bye!”

And he runs off before Jo could convince him to join the shoot. Lucas really isn’t about that life, the amount of followers he’s garnered only from the fact that he’s dating Eliott is already stressing him out as it is. He can’t imagine what a legitimate photoshoot together would do.

Making his way towards the beach, Lucas slips off his sandals and walks along the path where the waves hit the sand, relishing in the ticklish feel of sand shifting underneath his feet at every pull. His toes curl into the soft surface, wiggling at the cool touch of clear waters before the waves pull back into the ocean.

It’s nice out here. Lucas had been mighty skeptical when Eliott had mentioned it off-handedly during the giant final party of the school year. Granted, both of them had been pretty drunk at that point and Lucas wasn’t sure whether he was hearing things or if Eliott had really just asked him to go on a two week vacation in South Africa. Like Lucas doesn’t only have two whole dollars in his savings account.

It’s free, Eliott had cleared up once sober, chuckling at the dubious look on Lucas’ face. My friend wants a shoot there and he’s letting us stay at their private condo as payment.

Wow, bourgeoisie, and then Lucas proceeded to forget about it in the midst of tear inducing exams.

He digs out his phone and snaps a photo of the sun hitting the ocean’s surface with a pretty gleam. His mom would appreciate the view, maybe it would encourage her to take her own vacation somewhere too. She deserves a few weeks away from the city— maybe a trip with her friends would be nice, maybe with that nice guy she’s trying to pass off as just her friend whenever Lucas visits would be good too.

Lucas digs his heels in the sand and turns to face the ocean, rolling his sweatpants up to his calves as he steps deeper into the water.

Eliott’s graduated. He’d done a placement at a studio during his final year and they refused to get rid of him (Lucas can relate), add to that Eliott’s side film projects and this whole internet famous slash instagram model thing and Eliott’s suddenly found himself a lot more occupied that initially expected.

Lucas has quite a bit of catching up to do. Fuck, he’s not even employed anywhere. He’d left his job at the cafe during that unsavoury mess a year prior and his workload from school picked up at an abhorrent pace. The only reason he’s functioning as a semi normal human being right now is because Eliott has made it his mission to stop him from eating any more of Yann’s cheese bread and his mother has been helping him with rent.

He stomps his feet into the water, pouting as it earns him a very unsatisfying splash. And then his feet are suddenly off the ground, legs flailing on instinct as he’s grabbed from behind by an obnoxious, giggling giant—

“Eliott!” he screeches, two seconds before he’s unceremoniously dumped deeper into the water. Sputtering, he stands back up with as much dignity as he can gather and jumps onto Eliott’s back with a holler of curses, trying to keep his own head above water when Eliott’s knees buckle under the attack, laughter helpless as he clutches onto Lucas in their half-hearted tussle.

They roll around half in and half out the waves, laughter unbridled like giddy little children on a high. Careful steps on the sand turn to careless treading in the deeper waters, drenched clothes stuck on warm skin and playful fingers threaded in ocean darkened locks. Lucas breathes out a chuckle in the tiny space between them, foreheads aligning perfectly when he hauls himself up, arms wrapped tightly around Eliott’s shoulders for balance. This close, Eliott’s smile is more radiant than the sun reflecting diamonds in the water and Lucas can’t look away, not when the oncoming wave roars closer, not when Eliott whispers something reverent that steals the breath right out of his lungs.

"Eliott,” Lucas starts, blinking salt water off of his eyelashes. “Eliott, I—”

And then the waves claim them with an unmerciful smack, the force of it brings the two boys back to shore and they resurface with a sputter, their moment chased away by a newly triggered round of laughter.

“Oh shit.” Lucas squints as something dawns on him. “Fuck, Eliott!” He removes his soaked shirt and uses it to smack Eliott’s arm.

“Ow! What?”

“My shoes! I dropped them!”

“Oh. Oh, crap. I’ll buy— hey stop— stop that! I’ll buy you new ones at the market!”

The evening market is absolutely bustling with tourists. It seems like everyone had the same idea of whiling away the heat at the beach and whiling away at the shops once the sun starts to set.

“Lucas, come here! Look.”

Lucas follows the direction where Eliott’s voice is coming from, finding his boyfriend laden with all kinds of trinkets around the neck, around both wrists, and around most of his fingers. He’s such a fool. Lucas loves him so much.

“Please don’t tell me you’re gonna buy all of that.”

Eliott allows himself an offended look before remembering his excitement. “Course not, but look at this!” He stretches a hand and shows Lucas a handmade, wooden carving of a woman sitting on a piano bench with a dog beside her. “Wouldn’t this be perfect for your mom?”

Did Lucas say he loves him already?

“Yeah,” he says softly, squeezing the hand holding the figurine before letting go and looking around the stalls himself. He’s done a bit of shopping for their friends already (he’s not actually going to get them only rocks and sand, thank you very much), all he needs now is for some help getting things for Eliott’s parents. “Hey, do you think you dad will like—” He turns around, holding up a trinket, only to find Eliott already off to the stalls on the far right. Oh well, at least he looks like he’s in the process of returning everything he’s got draped all over him.

They don’t take very long to run into each other again once they’ve done their rounds, and Eliott beams like they haven’t seen each other in days, grabbing Lucas by the wrist with an enthusiastic, “All good to go?” And even if he wasn’t, Lucas would’ve followed him either way.

Speaking of, they’re not headed to where they parked their rental car.

“Where are we going?” Lucas asks, sneaking a glance around them to see if he can pinpoint familiar places. They haven’t done much exploring for the past week, preferring to laze around the beach area whenever Eliott wasn’t busy with photoshoots, but he imagines Eliott has been around more than him if Jo wanted some changes in scenery.

And because Eliott is Eliott, he doesn’t utter a word until they’ve passed a small bridge that leads to what looks like a dead end of shrubbery.

But Lucas knows better by now.

They squeeze through the thick shrubs, pushing branches and leaves aside until they reach a wide clearing. “Tada...” Eliott whispers, as if the sound of his normal volume would disrupt the scene.

And what a scene it was. A quaint circular area with boulders piled about, a large, ancient tree with drooping arms perfectly frames the view as if planted there years ago to fulfill this present purpose. The waves crash softly against the rocks, forcing pale, wet sand to shift with uneven dips. Over the horizon, blinding in its beauty, perches a moon so clear and bright Lucas would be hard pressed to believe it’s real if he weren’t standing right here.

“Holy shit,” he mumbles, shaking excess leaves off his feet as he makes his way forward, entranced. “Holy shit,” he repeats with feeling.

“Yup, holy shit.” Eliott breathes out his laughter, shoulders shrugging up in that endearing way of his. “Thought you’d appreciate this.”

Lucas makes his way to the edge where water and sand meet, bending to pick up a shiny stone reflecting moonlight off its surface. He hears Eliott coming up behind him but doesn’t expect the hand that steals the stone from his grip and Lucas huffs, indulging in his boyfriend’s amusement for a few minutes and jumping up to try and steal it back from Eliott’s raised fist.

“Eli, come on, give it.” He tries for another jump, but Eliott brings his hands behind his back, putting the stone out of sight. “Eliott!” Lucas whines, shaking the plastic bag of trinkets he’s got hanging around one wrist. Eliott has the gall to laugh at his suffering. “Give it.” Lucas holds out his free hand, tapping his feet on the sandy ground. “Now.”

Eliott raises an eyebrow in turn, smile adorable despite its mischief as he holds out both hands in closed fists. “Okay, choose a hand then.”

Lucas’ groan is long suffering.

But unfortunately, undeniably fond.

“What is this now?” Lucas eyes him suspiciously, trying to figure out what Eliott has up in his sleeve this time.

“What’s what?” Eliott tries for innocent.

“Did you learn some kind of magic trick, is that it?” Lucas grins, looking between the two hands in front of him.

“I don’t know, did I?” Eliott’s eye crinkles when he smiles. It’s infuriating.

“Omygod, you’re literally impossible. This better be a good trick, Demaury.” He slaps a hand over Eliott’s left fist, digging in between his fingers to try and pry them open. Eliott gives in too easily, lifting his fingers open without a struggle, so Lucas expects it to turn up empty.

Except.

Except—

“Is this good enough for you?” His voice is a whisper, quiet enough to get carried away by a strong wind.

Lucas stares at the hand, mouth gaping dumbly. “That’s a ring.” He hears a chuckle, and then Eliott’s other hand is opening to reveal a matching pair. “That’s two rings,” he says, a necessary and intelligent contribution.

“I know you’re nervous about what’s going to happen.” Eliott starts, “with my graduation, and work, and all that stuff.”

“I’m not—”

“Lucas, please, you think I wouldn’t notice?”

Lucas shuts his mouth, looks down at the rings again as if they hold the answers to all his doubts. And maybe, maybe they do. Hold them. Some of them, at least.

“Nobody likes change, you know. I hate it too.” Eliott steps closer, putting both rings inside one hand and using his free hand to grip one of Lucas’. “But for every change that happens there are still constants.” He places one of the rings inside Lucas’ palm. “And you have a lot of that, whether you believe it or not.” With both hands now free, Eliott takes the ring he kept for himself and drops it around his pinky finger. “But if there’s anything I want you to always believe, it’s that I will be your constant, Lucas Lallemant.”

“Constant?” Lucas chokes, eyes stinging from the force of the tears he’s holding back. God, he’s such a cry baby and Eliott knows it too, the bastard. “Like, always? Like—” Forever. But that’s a scary word. “Whatever happened to minute by minute?” He laughs weakly, hand gripping the ring tight in his hold.

Eliott leans down to press a kiss atop Lucas’ closed fist. “Okay, what if I tell you that here, in this exact spot, a minute lasts forever?” Because of course Eliott isn’t afraid of forever. Maybe Lucas will learn to be brave too.

Absently, Lucas mimics Eliott’s earlier movements, sliding the ring around his pinky and staring at it in wonder. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen himself wear a ring in his whole life. It’s a little loose on him but he’ll deal with that later, now’s not the time to worry about tiny details. “That’s absurd.”

“You’re absurd.”

“No you.” And Lucas launches himself up and into a hard kiss, putting all the brimming feelings he’s too stupefied to vocalize at this moment. “Buying promise rings,” he murmurs in between kisses. “When did you even— you sneaky bastard.” He pulls at Eliott’s shirt, dragging him down as he sags back on his heels. Eliott’s hands are warm cups over his cheeks, touch so soft, ever so gentle in everything he does. Lucas is shifting to fling his arms around Eliott’s shoulders to try and bring them even closer to each other when he feels the newly appointed metal on his finger fly right off his finger and into... well... into the unknown.

He pulls away so fast he gives both of them whiplash.

Fuck. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Fuck!

Eliott is understandably confused. “Uh. What’s wrong?”

“My ring!” Lucas screeches, throwing his bag of souvenirs over onto dry land before attempting to dive headfirst into the water. Eliott stops him just in time, dragging a protesting Lucas far, far away from the ocean. “But Eliott! My ring!! Your ring?! My— ring!”

And Eliott is laughing. “It’s okay, Lu.”

“It’s not!” He takes fistfuls of Eliott’s shirt and shakes his boyfriend because in what world is it okay to lose a ring given to you two seconds ago? “I just had it and then it’s gone!”

“Shh, it’s okay.” Eliott smiles down at him, shaking his head as he removes his own ring from his pinky and slides it onto Lucas’ ring finger. It’s a much better fit this time, but—

“But this is yours,” Lucas insists, “you’ve gotta have one too.”

“Oh, I do?” Eliott raises a teasing eyebrow.

“Of fucking course, that’s the point of a promise ring you dolt.” Wait no. “I’m the dolt. I can’t believe I lost my ring!”

Eliott’s giggles ring clear in the night. “Lucas, it’s okay, really, we’re here for a few more days, we can buy a new one before we leave, hm? Let’s go back now, I think you need some sleep.”

“I don’t need to sleep, I need to find my ring!!”

#skam france #elu fic #elu insta au #fictag #i will save my long sappy note #on ao3 #whenever i get to posting there #why did the image quality deteriorate #in between me posting this and the last time i updated #@ tumblr whats up widdat #now we play the game of #will this show up in the tags #gud night #i go back 2 sleep

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