Request: Do you mind doing an imagine where Jim and Alfred find you and Bruce asleep in the couch cuddling? Like super fluffy and cute? Maybe he just gave you a princess ring and they see it?
Warnings: Mentions of riots and chaos ensuing.
Author’s Note: I’m gonna assume that you typo’d princess ring for promise ring, but also a promise ring can simultaneously also be a princess ring in my mind. Like a princess ring can also be a promise ring, so yeah… I hope you like this!
“Well, with the warning of riots and all the chaos going on right now I thought I’d stop by to make sure you two were doing alright.” Jim explains to Alfred as they walk through the manor to the study which was once Thomas Wayne’s, but now belonged to Bruce, figuring that’s where he usually spent a lot of his time.
“Well, the gesture is appreciated Detective Gordon, as usual.” Alfred replies formally, as he leads the Detective in the familiar direction.
“Again Alfred, there’s no need for the formality, Jim is just fine.” Alfred opens the door leading into the study, while Jim walks through, “Thank you Alfred,”
“No Problem, Jim” Alfred tries to abide to the man’s request, though the name feels a little weird off the tongue at first.
“Maybe he’s not in h-” Jim doesn’t finish his sentence as he turns around to exit the room, already halfway inside. Alfred rushes forward, worried at what Jim’s staring at. Jim puts his hand up to slow Alfred and stop him.
Jim tilts his head in awe as he sees Y/N and Bruce both sleeping on the couch, intertwined and cuddling each other closely, as if trying to protect one another even in subconscious.
Alfred smiles at the sight and notices the ring on Y/N’s left hand, which is placed on Bruce’s back. “She’s wearing a ring…” Alfred mumbles more to himself than anyone, but Jim just so happens to hear.
“They’re not… you don’t think that they’d…” Jim starts to trail off, luckily Alfred interrupts.
“Get married? No. There’s no way I’d let Bruce get married at their age. Although I will say that I should’ve suspected as Master Bruce was interested and asking about rings the past couple of days. I’d guess it to be a promise ring” Alfred smiles as he grabs a blanket from the back of the couch and places it over the both of you.
“Well it seems that they’re alright. If you’d like some tea we can go in the parlor,” Alfred comments to Jim before taking one last look at the happily cuddled teenagers before gesturing for Jim to follow him out of the room.
if you call Samwise Gamgee the “”“true hero”“” of the story but put Frodo down or belittle his accomplishments in any way in the same post or breath then i hope you know that Sam Gamgee would be disgusted by you and that opinion
This was supposed to be a short little ficlet but it turned into an almost 6k mess, so I hope you enjoy it, Charlie! (also on ao3!)
Derek had never celebrated an anniversary before. At least, not an anniversary for a romantic relationship.
In the past, he had never had the opportunity nor the necessity to. But now that he was dating Stiles, and had been for exactly a year now, he finally did.
Precisely a decade ago, way back in high school, he had only ever dated one person seriously and that had been Paige. Despite the fact that they had been together for several months, they had never celebrated an anniversary.
They had been too busy making out behind the bleachers and passing love notes and secretive looks in class, too preoccupied with being stupid teenagers to worry about anniversaries. Not when they could be focused on thinking about the next time they could slip away to some vacant broom closet or the backseat of a friend’s car.
And then Derek had made one of the worst, most disastrous decisions of his life, getting the idea in his head that things would be so much better if his girlfriend was a werewolf like him. Poor Paige had ended up dead, buried in the middle of the woods away from her family and friends in an unmarked grave by the Nemeton.
The only anniversary present she ever got from him was a funeral bouquet.
He had no anniversary to speak of with Kate. They had never even really been dating in the first place. It had taken him a long time, years, as a matter of fact, to finally realize that.
She had just been using. A much older woman seducing a vulnerable, naive teenager, manipulating him with sex for her own gains.
Unfortunately, it was only after the fire and years of intensive therapy that he realized she was nothing more than a monster.
It was almost the exact same situation with Jennifer, or rather Julia or whatever the hell her real name was. All she had done was use him for her own nefarious purposes, using a bit of dark magic to help her turn him into a pawn.
Luckily, he had come to terms with the fact that she too was nothing more than some kind of heartless monster. He wasn’t sure if it hurt more or less that time.
But it was different with Stiles. They were dating. Really dating. And it was wonderful. He didn’t think he had ever been happier.
After the frankly terrifying ordeal with the Nogitsune, the whole debacle nearly costing Stiles his life, Derek had finally mustered up enough courage and gall to act on his feelings for the beautiful, brave, infuriating boy. Steeling his nerves with a deep breath, Derek had thrown caution to the wind and strode right up to Stiles, carefully grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and kissing the daylights out of him.
Looking back, Derek had to admit that his timing had been absolutely terrible considering the fact that they had been in the middle of a crowded hospital room, right in front of the Sheriff and the rest of the pack. Admittedly, he hadn’t thought much about that, too busy making sure that Stiles knew how much he cared about him.
And if that meant that they shared their first kiss in front of all of their loved ones then so be it. He certainly didn’t regret it. Especially since shortly thereafter they had begun officially dating.
With turnabout being fair play, a few days after their first kiss, Stiles had strolled up to him in the middle of an important pack meeting to grab him by the lapels and tug him into a deep kiss. The chorus of raucous wolf whistles and fake gagging from the pack that greeted their kiss did absolutely nothing to detract from how meaningful and amazing it was.
Pulling back from the kiss, his big brown eyes still closed as he licked his lips, Stiles whispered a soft request, inquiring if Derek would like to go out to dinner with him sometime, maybe that upcoming Saturday. Derek had eagerly, suggesting one of the local Mom and Pop diners that he knew Stiles loved, drinking in the smile on Stiles’ gorgeous face with a beaming grin of his own when he said yes.
And now, exactly a year into their relationship, Derek was busy making preparations for what was both his and Stiles’ first anniversary and the first anniversary he had ever gotten to celebrate.
Victor doesn’t miss a thing as he makes tea and helps with breakfast. Nothing is unusual when Yuuri leaves early for the rink, saying goodbye with a kiss that lingers too long given that they’ll only be separated an hour.
After their morning walk, he kneels down to unhook Makkachin’s leash, and only then does it dawn on him that something is missing. There’s no flash of gold when he reaches for her collar. His finger is naked. His ring is gone.
He doesn’t panic, not at first. It’s not as if he never takes it off.
The first spot he has to check is the nightstand on his side of the bed, where he leaves it each night. Maybe he forgot to put it on this morning. When he finds the night stand empty, he drops to the floor, combing through the rug fibers and beneath the bed. He finds lots of dust and dog toys, but no ring.
Next, he tries the kitchen. He’d helped wash up after breakfast, so of course he would take his ring off then, but the counter beside the sink is bare of anything more unusual than spilled tea. No ring.
Victor plants his hands on the counter and drops his head, inhaling deeply. Now that he’s noticed the ring’s absence, his hand feels strange. He’s gotten too used to the constant reassurance of the gold band wrapped around his finger, and he’s running out of places to search. He does take it off, but not often - only when he wants to avoid losing it.
The only place left is the bathroom. He usually takes it off to shower; maybe it’s by the bathroom sink or in a shower caddy.
Makka trails him through the apartment as looks, her claws clicking on the wood floors. She’s too good at sensing his moods. She can tell something is off.
When he flips on the bathroom light, his eyes shoot to the space around the sink. Nothing. No tell-tale glint of gold, just smooth white porcelain. Heart racing now, he throws back the shower curtain. In a rush, he pulls too hard, and the curtain, the rod, everything comes crashing down, landing with a clatter in the empty tub.
Makkachin yelps and flees, scrambling to try to fit herself under his bed like she had as a pup.
Victor stands there, still clutching the curtain tight in one hand. The shelves are bare of anything unusual - just razors, loofahs, and piles of half-used bath products.
What if he did put it next to the sink? What if it went down the drain? His breath catches in his throat, and he drops the shower curtain. It’s just a thing, just a slip of gold, but of course it’s so much more too - a promise, a vow, a symbol of Yuuri’s life, love, and dedication. It’s the twin to Yuuri’s own ring, exchanged on that solemn, chilly night by the cathedral, the cloud of his breath hanging in the air between them. It’s irreplaceable.
Victor can be forgetful - impulsive, even, but he’s not irresponsible. What will Yuuri think when he finds out? Victor can picture it - his mouth forming reassurances even as his eyes drop, wondering deep within if this means something.
The joint in the sink’s piping catches Victor’s eye. He doesn’t know anything about plumbing, but maybe there’s still a chance. He rushes from the bathroom, searching for his phone to call the building’s handyman.
By the time Victor slinks into the rink, he’s over an hour late, and his stomach is churning. There’s a small pile of worried texts from Yuuri on his phone, and if he reads them, he’ll break. This sort of bad news should be given in person. Yakov’s eyes snap to the door when he enters, and his coach’s shoulders tighten, preparing for a lecture, but the yelling never comes.
Yakov knows him well enough to tell something’s wrong, and Victor looks a mess right now - clothes thrown together, red-eyed, and nauseous from digging through wet black clogs of his own hair for an hour as the plumber pulled apart every pipe in his apartment. He’s going to be going home to quite a mess, and all with nothing to show for it.
Yuuri’s across the ice, talking with Mila, but he stops once he spots Victor, pushing off to race across the rink. “Are you okay?” he gasps as soon as he reaches Victor’s side. “What happened?”
Now he’s here, Victor isn’t sure what to say. His hands find Yuuri’s on the boards, lacing their fingers together. Tears press hot against the backs of his eyes as he feels the smooth slide of metal against his own bare finger.
“I’m sorry,” he says, trying to keep his voice from cracking. “I looked everywhere, but I can’t find my ring. I think I’ve lost it.”
Victor prepared himself for a lot of reactions, imaging each one as he plodded through the snow to get here, but he didn’t expect the sweet sound of breathy laughter. “Oh, Victor,” Yuuri says, squeezing his hand tighter. “It’s in the pocket of my jacket.”
When Victor can only stare at him, blinking in shock, Yuuri laughs again and reclaims his hand to cover his face. “I found it on the floor when I made the bed this morning and picked it up to give it to you. But then I forgot.” Yuuri shakes his head and runs his finger across the faint line where Victor’s ring normally sits. “I didn’t know you’d be so worried.”
“Of course I am,” Victor says. He lifts Yuuri’s hand to his lips, pressing a kiss into the little gold band. “It’s the second most important thing in the world to me, from the most important person.”
Yuuri leans over, wrapping Victor in a tight hug. “Don’t worry,” he murmurs into his fiance’s neck. “You’re never going to lose me.”
I’m currently working on this 10 page comic as a sort of tribute to Dark Souls as a whole and… Well, I’m not sure if I’ll actually manage to finish it, but maybe posting the first two pages will help to motivate me. xD
Also, I promise there will be other characters besides Patches. It ‘s just, because I am who I am, there’s still way more Patches than anyone ever asked for.