#basically i'm pulling a moriarty the patriot lmao

[syneilesis]

[fic] A Victorious Conquest

A Victorious Conquest

Ikemen Vampire | Arthur Conan Doyle x f!Reader | G | 499 words ao3 link (later)

You're alone in a pub, and a gorgeous man approaches you.

A/N: Another one for @cy-inky's one week challenge! This time the prompt is "Gosh, you are so beautiful." It's a detective AU; dunno whether this is modern setting or canon setting though, you decide! :D

Divider by @/saradika.

The dim lighting of the pub invites mystery and danger, and you're used to the cozy glow of coffee shops and libraries, where there is less noise, just soft murmurs enclosed in each table. The barman slams the mug in front of you, the beer sloshing inside, almost spilling, and you snatch your arms away from the counter. When it settles, you place your arms back, one hand tracing the mug handle, lost in thought.

Behind you: raucous conversations and ribald singing that have you chuckling to yourself with the absolute knowledge that you're out of place. To commemorate, you lift your mug and down your beer in one long gulp.

A body sidles up to your right, perching on a stool next to you.

“A gorgeous lady like you drinking like that ...” a flirty, masculine voice begins, “it catches attention, you know?”

The beer is half empty when you put it back on the table. In your periphery: crystal teal hair wisping around a fist against a cheek. You turn towards the source of the voice.

A beautiful man with a cheeky smile welcomes your sight.

“Whose attention?” you ask.

The man looks around as if gesturing at the entire pub. “What's your purpose coming here?”

“I wanted to meet someone.”

His expression grows intrigued. “Oh? A fantastical night, perhaps?”

You smile faintly. “Something like that.”

“And you're alone right now? How brave.”

“Is there something wrong with that?”

“Definitely.” He dips his head closer to yours, as if sharing a secret. When he speaks again, his breath tickles your ear. “Did you know that there have been a string of murders lately? I just worry for a lovely lady alone at a pub in the middle of the night. If you want, I can offer you protection...?”

A tempting offer, really. Amused, you turn your head slightly in his direction, lips an inch away from his. You hear his breath catch. “Gosh, you are so beautiful, you know?” you whisper back. “That's nice of you, truly, but you shouldn't scare somebody with that kind of rumor.”

He leans back, an inchoate grin in place. “It's all true. In fact, I'm a consulting detective for these cases.”

“Oh my.”

“So take my word for it when I say Paris has become dangerous lately. You never know ...” Then his demeanor suddenly shifts, sharpening. Darkening. “Unless you have a reason to remain confident of your safety?”

Ah. The smile that stretches your mouth is now indulgent, and the man narrows his gaze.

“Don't worry, sir—”

“Arthur.”

“Don't worry, Sir Arthur. You needn't concern yourself with me. Now then, it's time for me to leave—” You push yourself off your seat, nodding at him, and go on your way. “Thank you for the warning, Sir Arthur.”

Behind you Arthur calls out, “I never got your name, darling.”

You stop, turn back to him, and smile your most coquettish smile.

“Ah, yes. You may call me Lady Moriarty.”