#mtp albert x reader

[ranposbabe]

You Dangle The Mistletoe

summary: how some mtp men react when you dangle the mistletoe above you ;)

warnings: slightly suggestive in all except louis n herder (??)

WILLIAM JAMES MORIARTY

William had spent the entire day locked in his study

He didn’t mind as the hours flew by but you begged to differ

All was quiet while he continued to read his book until he heard a rather loud knock at the door.

He wonders who it is (not)

He expected you to simply walk in and yet when he didn’t hear your footsteps or was only then did he turn around.

You stood there with the mistletoe laying on top of your head

Like a statue waiting for his reaction first

He attempted to hide his smirk but of course you saw right through

“Take that off your head, y/n” He sighs, his eyes still stuck to the page.

You don’t even think he was actually reading at this point, surely it doesn’t take that long to read one page

“I will if only you-

“If only I what ?”

“Take off your clothes first”

William could no longer hide his smirk

ALBERT JAMES MORIARTY

It was late eventing and Albert had finally returned from his military duties

But what you didn’t expect was to find Albert still in his uniform.

But it was a good surprise

You always thought he looked good in any colour but he something about him in red had you hot and bothered-i always get carried away when writing about Albert plss

Anyways he’s standing there looking proud and you’re dangling that mistletoe with your shaking hands and all is well

He then joins you by your side and does not hesitate in kissing you

You both enjoy yourself as you spend hours minutes kissing

When I say enjoy I mean like really enjoy

But next thing you know he’s groping your chest :0

“Albert !” You gasp at the sudden pleasurable sensations

He apologizes but he doesn’t mean it

He looks down at you with this mesmising emerald eyes that are glazed over with lust as he chuckles at the sight of your face becoming hot-

“You were holding it rather low, y/n”

LOUIS JAMES MORIARTY

Louis stood rather anxiously in the kitchen as he listed to himself the ingredients he needed to gather to prepare supper

As always you were prepared to lighten the mood

Of course it never made him feel better you just got a laugh out of it most of the time

With his back facing you, you did spend quite some time simply watching him as he worked.

You were about to make him stress even more

“I think you’re missing something.”

He acts like he knew you were there but he didn’t (at least the whole time you were there)

“What is it ?” He rather blunt while you giggle showing off the mistletoe

He just stands there looking at you and you’re starting to get freaked out by his judgemental stare

He can’t help it though he struggles with expressing himself :(

He quickly catches on and trust me he wants to give you a little kiss but what if moran walks in ???!

Nobody is ever in the mood to deal with that man

Eventually he does come to your side and gently presses a kiss to your cheek

He does look behind your back to make sure no one is there

“Here” You hand him a napkin from the kitchen counter only for him to raise a brow in confusion at you

“You have a squished berry on your cheek”

SHERLOCK HOLMES

Sherlock had mentioned to you earlier in the day that his day would be filled with jobs so he of course told you not to wait up for him

Of course you never listen to him

To be far as it was already late you didn’t think you’d have to wait long for his return.

You were so wrong

You decided to wait up holding the mistletoe above your head waiting

Sherlock was gone so long you literally fell asleep

Some time went by Sherlock was busy :(

Your eyes flutter open to see the room in complete darkness except for a candle keeping the room in a dimly light

“What’s this ?”

You jump up in shock to see the sight of Sherlock standing over you holding the mistletoe as if to inspect it

“Nothing !” You laugh, without hesitation you grab it right from the detective

But still Sherlock observed it, noticing immediately how hot your face became as you twiddled with it nervously

“Perhaps it should be lower.”

Next thing you know the mistletoe is laying on your stomach ;)

Let’s just say…Sherly knows where to place his kisses <3

VON HERDER

You didn’t have to search far when it came to looking for Herder

“Herder !!!” You called, of course not surprised to see the man hunched over working on something you could only guess was an invention or so

With his back facing you as he was sat in his chair you didn’t hesitate to make your presence more known

“Oh hello” He smirks at slight ticklish sensation of the mistletoe touching the tip of his nose

Still sitting, he looked straight up tilting his head back already anticipating exactly what you came for

He couldn’t help but chuckle as you rather hastily pressed a quick kiss against his lips

“Well thank you for my present, y/n” He stands up from his seat.

He could tell you were blushing

With his figure now standing in front of the table tho truly did begin to wonder what exactly he was working on

But with Herder you were never left wondering long

“Here’s your present !”

Your jaw dropped as soon as you saw what was laid out on the table

“My very own gun !!!!”

[fairy-writes]

Hello! For the event, what do you think about Albert (Moriarty the Patriot) and the 9th action prompt? 👀

9) Showing up to surprise their lover when they’re in a long-distance relationship

ONE GOOD SURPRISE

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Moriarty the Patriot

Pairing(s): Albert James Moriarty x Gender Neutral!Reader

Prompt: 9) Showing up to surprise their lover when they’re in a long-distance relationship (Action Prompt #9)

Notes: The mentioned war in this is fictional. I don’t know exactly when MTP occurs, so I’m making this up.

__________________________________________________________________________

It was safe to say you were miserable.

William could tell. 

Fred could tell. 

Hell, even Moran could tell. 

The only person who couldn’t tell was the only one who wasn’t there. 

Of course, you had letters. You exchanged them as frequently as the mail system would allow. Still, you didn't get many with Albert overseas managing soldiers in the East. You kept said letters in a box by your bedside, reading them by candlelight when missing your husband got particularly bad. 

Seven months, three weeks, and seventeen days since he had been gone with no end in sight. 

You sigh for the umpteenth time that day, and Moran throws down his cards in frustration.

“If you’re not gonna play, then don’t play! I don’t want to play with you while you’re mopey and depressed!” He snaps, and you glare in his direction. He flinches at the frosty look and holds up his hands with a “geez, sorry.” 

Eventually, you leave Moran alone, and he bugs Fred into playing a round of poker with him and Jack. 

William finds you out in the gardens of the Moriarty estate. 

He sits beside you without a word as you read through Albert’s latest letter. It had been delivered earlier that week. It contained the usual: whatever updates he could give you, responses to your letters, how much he missed and loved you, and asked the occasional odd question when he detailed what he had been doing since his last letter. 

“I’m being insufferable, aren’t I?” You ask your younger brother-in-law, who simply hums as he watches a light breeze sway the flowers Fred worked so hard for. 

“I don’t believe you’re being insufferable. A little tiresome to deal with, maybe, but everyone understands why so they don’t mind.” He says, and you look up from the letter,

“Except for Moran. I think he’s about ready to wring my neck.” William huffs out a laugh at that. 

“Except for maybe Moran.” He agrees. 

The two of you sit in silence for a minute. But it isn’t an uncomfortable silence. Instead, it’s warm and welcoming. It was something you sorely missed from Albert. 

And something you likely wouldn’t have for a while. 

“I’m afraid I must get back to my duties. With Albert gone, his responsibilities as a Lord have fallen to me.” William says and stands. He offers you a smile that has something concealed behind it. 

What was he hiding?

You narrow your eyes, but he says nothing more, instead leaving you to your own devices as you trace the letters in Albert’s note with your thumb. 

“They’re rather beautiful, aren’t they?” Comes a familiar voice, and your heart stops. You stand shakily, turning around to see your husband standing at the entrance to the gardens. He hadn’t even changed from his uniform, his medals decorating his breast and glinting in the sunlight. His hair was mussed and tousled from the wind, and running his hand through it. You swear you could see soot from gunfire staining his cheek. He looks tired as if he had come from the docks directly here. 

He likely had.

You set the papers down inside the box of letters you had been carrying with you, all the while looking at Albert. He sets down his hat and opens his arms, and the floodgates burst open.��

You crash into your husband and knock him to the ground in a bear hug. Your arms go around his neck, and you’re kissing him desperately. He cradles your cheeks, and you can almost taste the tears streaking someone’s cheeks. Whether they’re his or yours, you can’t tell.

But that doesn’t matter. 

Seven months, three weeks, and seventeen days later, he was finally home. 

[lvest]

ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ William James Moriarty, Albert James Moriarty, and Louis James Moriarty with depressed!reader. (seperated!)

|| Trying out new stuff, if i can write something with this topic then I'll write more. Sorry if i mischaracterize them. T-T.

|| Tw : mentioned of suicide, depression, opinions.ᐟ

ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ William James Moriarty .ᐟ.ᐟ

In my opinion, he'll notices the signs instantly. He's an observant person after all, he noticed how you act whenever you look at the mirror and at yourself, how you seemed to be more self aware or self conscious when you're close with him.

He won't directly asked you, he wouldn't ask but wait for you to bring up the topic and would help you with actions or words, if you decided to tell him about it he'll listened and tried to help you step by step, he's a consultant after all.

If he knew you're planning to kill yourself he'll try to stay by your side for who knows how long, he wouldn't let that happen, no. He'll talk it out with you, not pushing you to tell him about it if you're uncomfortable, but he'll wait but doesn't mean he won't look out for you. He would watch you from afar, he would also asked Louis to hide anything sharp or anything that you could think of to off yourself. Not that he'll tell you, but he'll be more gentle than usual. (He's always but.. y'know)

He'll asked Louis to keep an eye out for you if he's out, however expect he'll never leave your side if it's not an emergency. (Mission, professor stuff etc.)

Overrall a good listener and will give the best advice, he'll show that he cares for you by actions and words, how he'll be so gentle and attentive to you whenever you're feeling depressed. He'll help you realize your worth by helping you with loving yourself first and then he'll help you to shoo away those bad thoughts.

ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ Albert James Moriarty .ᐟ.ᐟ

He might not noticed the signs at first but the more you act around him, he'll notice it. He wanted to asked you about it but he doesn't want you to be uncomfortable and decided to wait for the right moment.

That right moment being him finding you crying in your shared bedroom, he immediately rushed towards you as you then opened up to him about how he deserves someone who is equal.

He would listened to all of your pent up emotions and wouldn't brush it off easily, he would listened while caressing your hand with his thumb while giving you his full attention.

If he heard you planning to kill yourself, he would asked Louis or Sebastian to keep an eye on you since he's busy being the head of Moriarty and couldn't be home for most days, still he'll help you step by step no matter how long it takes.

He'll hide all the sharp things that could hurt you or kill you even, hiding it in place you never knew after all he and the brothers knows about the house more than you do.

Overall he'll help you whenever you're feeling depressed or even a slightest bit of sad, if he can't be there he'll write to you, sending letters asking about your day or how you're doing and sometimes he'll send you little gifts to cheer you up.

ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ Louis James Moriarty .ᐟ.ᐟ

He'll also noticed if you act a little "different" what i meant by different is how you avoid mirrors and starts to skipped meals, that's when he got suspicious.

He'll not directly asked you but will observe you from afar, keeping an eye out if someone words or actions is making you do this, but when he learned you are actually depressed he'll help you..

He's not good with words but will show you with actions, like if you told him about how everything is hard, how the slightest mishaps can make you burst into tears, or how the simplest thing makes you tired.

He'll listened throughout the whole process, no matter what, even if you accidentally spilled tea all over you or how it's hard for you to leave the bed. He'll help you by showing you affection, making you meals and making sure you are not skipping meals again.

In my opinion, i think he'll leave little note on your nightstand, saying things he couldn't say. He'll leave a note everyday, each with encouragement and unsaid feelings he can't say with words along with a small little flower attached to it everyday.

If he heard how you're planning to kill yourself he'll went into panic mode, he'll be so worried and tried to stop you by hiding all the sharp objects and asking for advice from William.

Overrall he'll not say much but he'll help with actions, he can't convey his feelings to words but he'll leave little notes that he hope will help you get more confident and more free from those thoughts that haunt you.

[ananiel]

Imagine being able to see spirits. You are able to see animals and humans walking (or floating) around, hearing how they talk and how they speak, talking about how they wish they could see their family or talking about how they want nothing more but justice

You are able to touch and pet, to speak and to interact with any of them, and when people touch your bare skin, they can see spirits too, which caused You to always wear gloves and long sleaves, as well as a mask

Now, the basic answear for this Power would be to become an oracle or some crazy witch of the Town. But what if You become a Detective. Yep, a young Detective that suddenly rised into the favour of the people for being able to solve cases that are a century old (mainly because the beheaded victim cries in Your bathroom at 3:36 am sharp every night)

So You live like this, in a happy way with your gift

Logical would be to keep your gift hidden too, so that people don't try to kill You for knowing to much

You met him on a random day, thinking nothing of him while a dog spirit was hiding behind your leg. He seemed friendly, and eager to befriend You as well, almost honored to be in your presence

Now spirits upon spirits whisper his name, talk about how deranged and how he was the one who killed them, or played part into their death. Spirits that got very fond of You would tell You to stay away from that man

You clearly followed their advice, and distanced yourself from him. But he isn't dumb, he caught up to it, and now, he tries to figure out what has gotten You to hate him so much

Surely... He has been studing You for ages, talking You day and night to figure out the best personality to just steal You away only for himself. What failed in his plan?

He asked himself, oh well, guess he'd have to take You in a more forcefull attempt

[dazaiosamuwifeandlover16]

"Invisible Devotion" – William James Moriarty x Reader

You had always admired William James Moriarty. No—admiration was too mild a word. You were obsessed. Every glance he spared you, every word he uttered in your presence, felt like a divine blessing. You lived for those fleeting moments, weaving them into the fabric of your daydreams, convincing yourself that, surely, he must feel something too.

But reality was far crueler.

To him, you were nothing more than another person in his orbit. Not an enemy, not an ally—just there. Even as you lingered at the outskirts of his world, trying desperately to carve a space for yourself within it, he remained completely oblivious.

It wasn’t for lack of effort. You attended every gathering where he might be present, subtly aligning your interests with his, hoping he would finally see you. You read the books he favored, learned to play chess in case he ever challenged you, memorized his every mannerism like scripture. But no matter how hard you tried, you remained invisible.

Louis noticed your devotion. His kind eyes would soften whenever he caught you staring too long at his brother. Albert, too, had surely realized—his knowing smiles felt almost pitying at times. Even Sebastian, with his sharp gaze, seemed to find amusement in your one-sided love. But William?

Nothing.

He was a man who saw through the deceptions of society, who could predict a person’s every move before they made it, and yet… he never once saw you.

The thought clawed at your heart like a relentless sickness. You wanted his attention. His love. Even his hatred would be better than this suffocating indifference.

And so, you made a choice.

If he would not look at you of his own accord, then you would force his gaze upon you—no matter what it took.

Would you rise as his most devoted ally, proving your worth in the grand scheme of his revolution? Would you become a threat, someone he had to acknowledge, even if it meant standing against him? Or would you spiral into something darker, something desperate—something truly mad?

Either way, you swore to yourself one thing.

William James Moriarty would notice you.

Even if it was the last thing you ever did.

Would you like me to continue this story in a specific direction? Maybe with an ending where he finally acknowledges the reader in a dramatic way?

[knavesdamsel]

Having a crush is the most disgusting cringy sweetest painful most joyful thing you’ll ever experience in your life

I haven’t been this miserably happy in years

[lovelystarlightsblog]

Motherly reader babying them~

(So reader is a loving Mommy type that loves babying and spoiling them. So after awhile she somehow manage to bring up their Inner child)

Albert James Moriarty

He was a little uncomfortable with the thought of being spoiled. Like, him? Spoiled? He beg to differ. But after he met you. All he could say is…. Well sh!t..

He was never the spoiled type (that’s what he thought), if anything he would be the one spoiling his S/O. But now he could only question how the hell did he end up here while sitting sideways on your lap.

He was honestly embarrassed by it. Wasn’t it supposed to be the other way around? Well, not anymore….

He wasn’t familiar with motherly love considering his childhood. He was never felt like he was accepted in his “Family” so mothers love wasn’t something he can Imagine to have.

After he met you he feel like he found something that was missing his whole entire life. He never felt so safe, so comfortable, so……. Happy….

At the start of the relationship, it was something small and simple things like serving and feeding him cookies, and then leads to wrapping him in blankets and cuddle him the whole night (You’re the big spoon obviously), which also leads you into tucking him in before bed and sing him a lullaby, and also leads you to cradling him when he had a hard day…..

He was really embarrassed to say the least. He was treated like a child! And for some reason it makes him feel so warm inside.

He likes it…..

He will never admit to anyone, not even when someone threatens him death. But he loves how you treat him like a child, he loves how you spoil him so much with your loving. You’ve awaken his inner child he never knew he had.

As time goes on the others start to notice how Albert’s behavior is slowly start to become more… Childlike….

Like how he looks at you so excitedly like a child seeing his birthday present when he finally gets back, or when you’re home after going out to get groceries. Or how he becomes 970% more clingy than he used to. And how he always clings onto you when you’re sitting together or you’re just talking with someone else.

Well… They’re not the only one who realized it. Cause I’m pretty sure that Albert would realize it sooner than they do. But despite that he’s not stopping it at all…. What kind of spell did you used on him?!

Nobody ACTUALLY complains about it, maybe Moran would tease him but he would get the most terrifying glare, that it can make the devil look like a baby kitten. He notes himself that he would NEVER tease Albert about it ever again.

But when someone else points it out…. Let’s just say that he never wanted to jump out of the window so bad in his whole entire life.

He’s conflicted. He’s a grown up adult, he’s not supposed to be treated as a child nor act like one. But at the same time it just feels soo good that he’d be a liar if he said he didn’t like it! Not like he can stop even if he wants to.

He was honestly quite self-conscious about it. He feels like he should stop letting you treat him like a child so much, but he also craves for it. He can’t decide whether to stop you or letting you do anything to him.

He once told you how he feel a little ashamed of liking all those childish things. But you told him that there’s nothing wrong with enjoying all those things. Everyone has their own inner child and everyone always want to feel loved. And that actually made Albert feel a lot better hearing you say that.

After some time, he lets himself loose and let you do more “lovey” things like cradling and other babyish things. He also really likes how you spoon fed him, but he only let’s you do that in private.

William and Louise also notice Albert’s childlike behavior. And neither of them judges him. In fact, they’re happy that Albert is able to feel happy and comfortable with someone. And they really do appreciate your company cause they haven’t seen Albert so content and happy before. So that really made Albert relieved.

He loves the way you scratch his back while he’s cuddling you (I love back scratches, y’all knew this was coming). He always wraps his arms around you as he lays his head on your chest while you softly scratch his back. He’s the big spoon most of the time, but sometimes he’s the little spoon when he’s feeling tired or down.

And then… There’s cradling, OH THE CRADLING!! He’ll be DAMNED if anyone else knows about this, but he he craves to be cradled! It’s probably one of the most babyish things he actually enjoy but boy he loves it!

It’s just… The way you hold him while he sits on your lap and rocking him slowly (god that’s adorable) and having his head resting on you. He has never felt so safe and comfortable in his life. It’s embarrassing and he loves it so damn much.

It would take a lot of time for Albert to accept his “tendencies” he’ll try to be a lot more open with his childlike behaviors. Of course he won’t show that side of him to anyone, but now he’s a bit more open to admitting his “tendencies”. He’ll also let himself act a bit more spoiled to you and enjoys how he’s treated as a child.

And once that finally happens you’ll realize how adorably spoiled he is. Like how he ask you to sing him to sleep, making him and feeding him cookies, clinging onto you, and running up to you when you get back. It was incredibly adorable and beyond cute!

Of course that doesn’t mean he’s not serious with his work on taking care of the nobles. It’s just that whenever he takes a break he always know where to go and what can make him feel so much better after all that. And that’s something he will never take for granted.

Of course he will try to pay you back. (Even tough he feels like he will never be able to). Like treating you out for dinner, buying you gifts, getting whatever the hell you want (even if it’s as absurd as bringing home a lion). It’s just that… Words cannot express how thankful he is to have you and you make everything so worth it in this life…

He has never felt so happy….

Wow….

This is one of the most tooth-rooting, stomach stirring, diabetic thing I have ever wrote…

I’m so proud of it…

[verysanebsdfan]

Hello it's me! I hope you're having a great day! May i request a Albert Moriarty (Moriarty the patriot) x reader , they don't know each but reader is an assassin & Albert walks in during her mission?

I apologize if this is too much, make sure to stay hydrated (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

Hello:3 I am so excited to write this cause?!! WAAA I hope you are satisfied!!

Anyway, the reader is an assassin who doesn't work for anyone, and takes up commissions and stuff so yeah!!

masterlist!!

cw: killing and blood, nothing graphic tho. Use of (Name) NOT (Y/N), mentions of suicide as a form of escapism to save your life, not proofread

wc: 1110 (prolly the longest i wrote on my tumblr, oof)

𝔸𝕝𝕓𝕖𝕣𝕥 𝕄𝕠𝕣𝕚𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕪 𝕩 𝕒𝕤𝕤𝕒𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕟!𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

The night stretched on in eerie silence, the usual hum of life swallowed by an unsettling stillness. The freezing feeling in your fingertips was the only thing that kept your consciousness from slipping, just barely. It was not a clever idea to pass out somewhere in the East End. There were not only shady people after all, but also individuals who would not like you much. Your clothes were nice and quite clean, but it was also obvious you were not a noble. Just comfortable at best. That does not change much, you still looked like you lived a comfortable life. Which of course could not be further from the truth.

Your life was full of spilled blood and loneliness. And you could never catch a break too!! Traveling all over England was one thing, but the nature of your job was another. A normal person would never think so many people required your services. Well, they technically did not require them, because in what reality you need to get someone killed, right? But there are a ton of them. And each job required meticulous planning, a ton of preparation, and transportation. It is not unnatural to have to travel for hours by train. At least you get paid to do so. Another thing you do is plan murder. You know very well not everyone can afford the full service, and even though it pains you to make someone dirty their hands, ultimately it is their decision, and it is a steady income. And planning murders is not even exhausting, right? Wrong!! You need to collect a ton of information to do anything.

And that is exactly how you might have dug your grave. While you were sniffing and digging around for information for Lord Ernest, whoever that was anyway, you discovered something you should not have. The identity of the criminal who has been ‘terrorizing’ England. If it could be called that. It was someone quite like you after all. The Lord of Crime. Oh, such a fancy name. It was all just an accident, witnessing a murder. Not like it happens to everyone, not at all, but you just had luck.

You were just crouching down in the bushes, tracking your latest victim’s daily routine. He was taking his night stroll around the garden, however just then someone appeared out of…well clearly not anywhere, but out of somewhere, and they held a conversation. You could not make out any words out of it, however as soon as your victim dropped dead, you knew you had to follow the culprit. And that is how you figured out one of the Moriarty brothers must be the Lord of Crime. Or they are partners in crime. Who knows? Certainly not you, for now at least. However, who would have expected everyone to know about your presence?

And that is what, sort of, got you into this current situation. It was the first time you ever got caught red handed. Quite literally, considering blood was spilled on you as well. You, of course, panicked.

The body of another one of your victims dropped dead on the floor and you dusted off the non-existed dust off your shoulders, praising your work. Just then however, you hear a chuckle behind you. The feeling of cold sweat all over your skin envelops you and breath catches in your throat. Someone… they must have surely seen you- well even if they did not, it is obvious you were the culprit. One looks behind yourself. Brown hair, green eyes- SMOKING HOT!! Besides that,…an air of dominance and danger. And most importantly, power and influence. After looking around, you concluded that the only possible route seems through the window. Approximately five meters high with grass and quite slippery ground under it- wait no there is snow, not good either. Oh well. Taking one last look behind yourself, you run up to the window, breaking it smoothly, and jumping.

You of course do not know if he has any people waiting for you, and if he does, there is only one way out. Either you die, or your enemies die. Simple.

The chase was long and exhausting, it had been hours, you ran, you hid, and you took a carriage as well. There is no definite proof of your current enemy following you, however it is highly likely to happen, and your gut feeling tells you so as well.

The creepiest part of the chase was when you finally returned home, only to find your property totally destroyed- no, they just made a mess, something must have gone missing. What is it though? Who knows, not you, since paranoia took the best of you, and you left again. If they use it against you, you can very well get Scotland Yard knocking on your door at any minute. And that is why you are here.

In East End, in freezing cold. This winter has been especially chilly. Your body was shivering, and your hands have barely any sense of touch left, so what is motivating you to go on? A will to live freely? Maybe. Is it something you deserve though? You took the life of so many people, without even stopping to consider their situation. Yes, there were cases where you did not accept a commission because you did not agree with the reasoning. Yet you still took countless lives of people who had friends, family, life. Unlike you. You have no personal life, no lover, no family, no friends. Nothing. So why are you even trying? Yes, this exact thought is the one that made you stop, or maybe it was the sudden sense of dread that spread to you.

“Why hello.” A voice sounded out into the quiet night. “There is no need to run, for I have no intention of hurting you.” The person said. “I merely wish to have a talk with you, you must bee freezing, a lady who is not even properly dressed…” He prods at the fact that you are in fact not wearing proper clothing for a woman, well pants are exactly not it in this age. It is practical though. “Must not be feeling her best, especially here, in this weather.” He got you. Possibly covered as well. You are in fact freezing.

“You, such a gorgeous woman, (Name) (Last Name). Come with me, and you will maybe find a place you could call home.” He offered, while clearly staring you up and down. Not very proper if you ask me. But maybe it is not so bad to give him a chance, it might not be so bad.

[cyanhydrangea]

For The World We're Gonna Make

Albert James Moriarty x Reader

Summary:

You think of what the world could be

A vision of the one you see

And we can live in a world that we design

Inspired and based on "A Million Dreams" song by Hugh Jackman, Michelle Williams, and Ziv Zaifman

Tags: Songfic, Arranged Marriage, Domestic Fluff

"What makes you stay awake at night despite the comfortable life you already have?"

Ten years old Albert clearly did not see that question coming from you. You were only three years younger than him and this was only the third time you and him meet at a secluded area of Moriarty Mansion Garden after the day of engangement party.

He contemplates for a while, and his intuition is telling him he can trust you.

"Every night I try to close my eyes to sleep, I can see the world in equality"

Your fiancé's answer intrigue you, and soon you're about to know how the two of you share the same world view in this rotten system of society.

---

In a span of twenty years, Albert still found himself wide awake in midnight with the same vision he always has as a kid.

Albert was too deep in his thoughts that he didn't notice the weight shift on the bed after you woke up and you get closer to him. The sight of your husband's furrowed eyebrows in a dim light is nothing new to you, and you already know the cause of it.

It takes Albert a minute to realize his wife's keen loving eyes are on him.

"Did I wake you?", Albert asked in worry as he knows you were asleep an hour ago.

You shook your head, "You literally just spaced out for who-knows-how-long, staring at the ceilings like it's the most interesting thing in the world", A grin escapes your beautiful feature.

Albert can't help but mirror your grin, "If a mere ceilings can do that to me, your presence will make me lose my mind by how captivating you are"

You rolled your eyes playfully before you sigh in mixed feelings.

"Albert," you intertwine his hand on yours and place it where your heart beats.

"However big, however small, promise me you'll let me be part of it all. We share the same dreams, after all"

Albert's eyes softened by your declaration, he reached to cup your cheek with his free hand and gently caress it as he spoke in his loving gaze,

"I can say the same to you, my dearest. You think of what the world could be, a vision of the one you see, we can and we will live in that world we designed, a world without corrupt nobles where equality rise"

Because no matter how people would think how crazy they are, it will never change a fact that both of them are stubborn to make their dreams a reality.

"For the world we're gonna make", you said in determination.

"For the world we're gonna make", Albert repeated your words in affirmation.

#CyanHydrangea

Date written: 06/04/2025

[moriartyluver]

Y’all send requests I’m boreddddd

Also I’m thinking of doing an event for 500 followers but I can’t think of anything lol. Send in ideas I’m hella uncreative if that’s even a word

(+Moriarty the patriot memes I found on Pinterest lol)

[ranposbabe]

Wrinkled Sheets

pairing: louis james moriarty x fem!reader

summary: louis doesn’t like the fresh sheets wrinkled but you kept provoking him :(

warning: smut, slight mention of voyeurism??, unprotected sex!! he’s sick of your bs

Each morning the same routine occurred.

From the moment Louis woke up as the rays of sun rise sneaked in past the curtains, he’d gather himself up and dress along with making the bed with fresh sheets. He found it somewhat relaxing. A simple not even task completed to start off the uncertain day.

Atlas, one’s tasks are certain to be disrupted when you are around.

“Louis !” You exhaustingly call, practically slouched over standing in the doorway. Your call did nothing but bounce off the walls as he continued to folding the sheets so precisely.

You couldn’t believe it ! You barely could find it within yourself to stay awake at the crack of dawn to even think about the daily chores let alone do them !

“y/n I’m rather busy at the moment.”

He’s polite with his words yet his back remains to yous still and suddenly a devious thought provokes your mind. “Doing what exactly ?” You tease, taking steps forward as you now stood behind him. Your curiousity leads you to stand on your tippy toes in an attempt to look over his broad shoulders. “y/n” Louis sighs, his hand patting out the creases. You could only stare down at his long fingers and the way they-

“Oh !” You gasp, your balance lost like your lucid dreams. You’re quick to fall against his back but not before Louis quick reflective kick in and he turns ever so slightly just to take you into his arms to stop you descending to the floor.

Just a moment everything stops and you feel everything. How both of his hands are placed against your lower and upper back. How even though you don’t dare look up as your heads places against his chest that its pace has indeed increased ever so slightly.

“Careful.” He softly tells you off before letting you go and it’s only when you’re not pressed against Louis, you feel the sudden coldness of the room and it leads you feeling such discomfort. Time to pursue your idea !

Louis stood still clearing his throat as he adjusted his glasses and he was none the wiser as you moved before him.

As soon as the back of your knees collided with the edge of the bed you didn’t hesitate to sit down, crossing your legs in the process.

You look up and you’re clearly not taken back by the irritated look on Louis face. His brows are practically always furrowed when in your presence.

“Get up.” A sigh once again escapes his lips, staring you down. You take on the challenge.

“Why should I ?” You tilt your head, resting down back on your elbows. He still stands above you, not threatened by your game. That is until your legs are uncrossed and ever so slightly spread and Louis realises that he’s standing ever so close to between your legs.

The faint blush on his cheeks and ears gives him away.

But Louis is quick to compose himself when he sees your elbows creasing the sheets and now he’s been set off. Poor you.

“Enough !” He finally snapped, his tone sharp with warning. His scarlet eyes filled with temptation. You will admit, his tone made a whimper out of you but when you stared up into those eyes you knew deep within you that he was welcoming this challenge.

He continue to glare right down at you, you’re not sure whether he was in contemplation or if this was your punishment. Either way, you were starting to feel uneasy about the answer that you were guaranteed to find out.

“Louis I-

You try to sit up yet as if a switch had been turned, you’re pushed down by the young Moriarty and soft lips are pressed against yours which you greedily accept. Strands of blond tickle your forehead as his hands grip onto the sheets beside your head. Creasing them far more than you’ve done.

He pulls back but before you can question him, he pulls his glasses off, throwing them above you onto the pillows.

Whenever the glasses come off that was when you understood to keep quiet.

His lips now more eager are once again on yours and you return the favour by the opening your mouth to invite his tongue.

It is when Louis reaches down to pick up your leg by the back of your knee that your skirt rises, that you realise the obvious.

“Louis !” Your eyes widened. “The door is still open !”

Anyone could walk by at any moment and the would see the disgrace of yourself. This seemed to only rile Louis up even more, you could tell by the way his teeth dragged his lip without a single care. With nothing to say, you could only pout. His kisses are moved down to your exposed neck. Sooner or later your neck wouldn’t be the only thing out in the open for anyone walking by to view.

Your eyes couldn’t help but follow his movements. How his fingertips rested around your throat, not squeezing but reminding you what he’s capable off. How the light purple and blue veins look exquisite and decorate his surprisingly smooth hands. His other hand was busy pulling up your skirt that was getting in the way of his desire. Your cheeks were warm, in an instant the buttons to your blouse were opening and your legs displayed which Louis rubbed your thigh with his remaining hand yet he was fully clothed, not even his bow tie was disturbed. It felt like a silly game that really only you were playing, following along to his rules. He was the real winner here.

While his addictive kisses which turned your skin into shades of purple moved down to your chest, you sneakily took the chance to move your seemingly stiff hands down to his belt.

You barely got it open before your hands were ripped away. “Are you going to continue to misbehave?” Louis questions you all the while he tugs down your undergarments, your skirt still ruffled around your waist. “Well ?” His movements stop. It all depends on your pretty lips to move.

“Um.” The embarrassment which prior was nonexistent is evident of your reddened face. You could feel his nails begin to dig into the skin beneath the waistband of your underwear.

“I’ll behave.” Your heart is thumping out of your chest and the sight alone of your pleading eyes of submission makes Louis weak in the knees. Quite literally.

Your back arches from the bed, sheets creasing the more your head sways back as your hands move from the sheets to Louis’ hair as he places delicate but long fulfilling kisses on your cunt. The more Louis licks and even bites the more you forget yourself and your lustful cries can be heard outside of the room where the door is wide open as ever.

It’s when Louis’ teeth have a slight nip at your clit, he looks up and those scarlet eyes can see the satisfaction on your dazed face.

He pulls back, looking down at his glistening prize. Not only are the sheets now destroyed in wrinkles from you griping so tight but also due to your soaking wet cunt that’s non stop dripping well because of Louis’ skills.

You don’t even get a second to come down from your high as his mouth is replaced with his cock. His cock so deep in you he snugly fits perfectly. Even if it takes you a minute and a gasp to adjust to his long girth. Every fast thrust, his cock touches your cervix, intending to leave bruises just like your neck. All you can do is cling onto him by his clothed shoulders as he uses your cunt to his advantage. Of course you always have to irritate him. Of course you’re delaying him of his tasks. Always you and your desirable cunt getting in his way !

Well he won’t have it anymore ! The sheets at this stage are done for ! Anymore mess to be made will be put onto you. Quite literally !

As you both reach your high together, it was rightfully Louis’ turn to make a mess and of course he would all over your exposed chest and blouse. He was fully dressed, he can’t make a mess of his own clothes now can he ?

The switch had been turned again, no longer under your enchantment. Louis gathers himself quickly, adjusting his pants as you’re left covered in his mess. “I need to prepare tea.” Louis states, his hands fumbling in an effort to fix his crooked bow tie. You can only stare in, not even budging.

He points to the sheets, his demands never tire. “I want them replaced when I come back. If not you’ll obey the repercussions.” Like that Louis bolts out the door, behind on his daily routine, not even sparing you a glance.

All you’re left to do is pathetically lie there, panting away in a useless attempt to catch your breath. But that’s doesn’t mean you follow instructions. You continue to lie there eagerly staring out at the open doorway, waiting for the repercussions.

[fairy-writes]

hello there i hope you have a great day today, can i request an albert x reader. the reader is holmes younger sister (could be an age gap but if you uncomfortable you can make the reader sherlock older sister). im kinda interested that the reader and albert is ike in a fake engagement but slowly they fall for each other. im sorry if its a lott or confusing 😖😖😖😖

FAKE… OR IS IT?

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Moriarty the Patriot

Pairing(s): Albert James Moriarty x Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, Holmes!Reader, Fake Engagement, Reader is short

Notes: I wrote this with the reader being the Holmes’s middle child. So, in between Mycroft and Sherlock :)

Here are their ages!

Mycroft: 31 | Reader: 27 | Sherlock: 24

__________________________________________________________________________

“Sit up straight, Sister.” Mycroft chastises, and you roll your eyes, propping your heeled feet up on the coffee table, much to his chagrin. You can tell he’s less than pleased with the mud on the table by the tightness around his eyes. 

“Bugger off, Mikey.” You grumble and slouch even more in your seat. His frown deepens, but he knows better than to try and get you to obey. If anything, it would make you rebel even more. 

You had never been one for proper manners if you could help it. You had always been a rough-and-tumble type of woman, playing in the dirt with the neighborhood kids while Mycroft and Sherlock dealt with their studies. Sure, you also had studies of your own. But overall, you tended to ignore whatever your governess taught you in favor of learning how to handle weapons from your father. Mycroft sits back in his seat and sighs, 

“At least sit properly when the company gets here.” He mutters under his breath. 

That gets you to sit up straight.

“Company?! Since when?!” You choke and hurriedly set down your teacup before you can spill it down your front. Your elder brother had summoned you to his office that morning with a telegram. But he hadn’t explained why you were there, even with your pestering. Mycroft glares at you pointedly and is about to answer when there’s a firm knock on the door. 

“Come in.” He calls, his voice booming and loud in the quiet room. 

A tall young man, perhaps your age, enters the room. He’s attractive, almost devilishly so. With slicked-back brown hair and piercing green eyes, he’s dressed in the typical uniform of all soldiers. 

You recognize this man. 

Your younger brother wouldn’t shut up about his family. 

Lieutenant Colonel Albert James Moriarty. 

You glare at Mycroft, who ignores your look in favor of standing up and shaking Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty’s hand. Brushing off the front of your dress, you stand as Mycroft gestures to you. 

“This is my younger sister,” He says. Your name follows soon after. You plaster a bright smile on your face and extend your own hand. Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty bows slightly and introduces himself before you turn to look at your brother. 

“I assume this is where I take my leave?” You ask, and he raises an eyebrow, 

“On the contrary, dearest sister, you’ll be taking part in this meeting.” Your face betrays your shock before you can school it into a facade of perfect calm. 

Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty notices but doesn’t comment. 

Mycroft gestures for you to take your seats before his desk, and you do so, perching on the edge of the seat like a bird ready to take flight. In contrast, Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty sits back, relaxed in his chair, setting his hat in his lap and steepling his hands together. 

“So, mind telling me what this ‘important mission’ is about?” He says politely, and you look at him from the corner of your eye.

Important mission? 

Just what was your elder brother planning? 

Mycroft leaned his hands on his desk and then leaned his weight on his hands. It seemed he wasn’t taking a seat quite yet. 

That meant things were serious. 

“There’s a mission I am entrusting to the both of you. It’s of the utmost importance and must be handled immediately.” 

Wait…

“You’re what?!” You blurt just as Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty opens his mouth to speak. You don’t give him the chance to talk. You stand and jab a finger at Mycroft, the other hand clenched in the fabric of your dress skirt. 

You weren’t about to be a pawn in your brother’s game. You weren’t even an MI6 agent or soldier of his! 

“Absolutely not! This can’t possibly be legal! I’m just a civilian!” You stand and jab a finger at Mycroft, the other hand clenched in the fabric of your dress skirt. Mycroft stares down at you. He had always been the tallest of the three Holmes siblings. You were saddled with the hefty burden of being the shortest. 

“You know this as well as anyone that MI6 operates outside the law,” Mycroft says simply, and you grind your teeth. He had a point. But still… 

“What about Miss Moneypenny?” You ask, and Mycroft shrugs, 

“She’s on another mission with Colonel Moran. You two are the only ones I trust with this.” He says, turning his intense stare onto you and Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty. 

You flinch at that. Mycroft never openly said he trusted you. It was sometimes implied, but he knew how fickle you could be! Was this mission really that important?

Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty stands and accepts the papers Mycroft hands him. He then extends a hand for you to take. Begrudgingly, you take it and allow him to help you to your feet. 

At least your ‘mission partner’ was a gentleman. 

You accept Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty’s offer to take you back to the Holmes London estate and sit across from him in the carriage. He opens the papers Mycroft gave him and begins to read. 

“Oh dear…” He mumbles, and you look over from where you had been watching the scenery go by. He has a frown pulling at his lips and creasing his brows. 

“What’s the matter?” You ask, and he turns the papers around so you can read them. 

“It seems we’ll need to be engaged for this mission to work.”

Your engagement was announced within the next week. 

You had even commissioned an artist for an engagement photo of sorts. Granted, it was just for show, but still! You had to stand still for hours in a dress your mother picked out and that you loathed all for one portrait. 

You never understood how royalty could do it. 

Speaking of your parents… 

Part of the facade was to make sure everyone was in on it. Maybe ‘in on it’ wasn’t the right word. Because this was a top-secret mission, after all. So you couldn’t exactly tell your parents that this engagement was fake. But you did have to tell them you were getting engaged lest you incur the wrath of your mother. 

Wanda Holmes was a proper woman. She was everything you weren’t. Prim, proper, ladylike. The only thing you got from her was her height and her temper. She hated that you weren’t the little lady she dreamt of having. But there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. 

In contrast, Timothy Holmes was a bit of a rule breaker. He fostered your love for weaponry and often challenged you to a shoot-off to see if you let your skills rust over. You inherited his knack for getting under people��s skins, and it was a wonder that he was still married to your mother after thirty years. 

Telling them was an… interesting adventure, to say the least. As your carriage rumbled up to the country estate where they resided, they met you outside. Your mother had her hands clasped together, a newspaper crunched in her grasp. Her face was dark with disappointment. 

Like the light side of the moon, your father all but bounded up as you stepped out of the carriage. 

“Dearest daughter!” He bellowed, and you couldn’t help but grin. 

“Dearest father!” You tease right back and step forward into his embrace. He squeezes you tight and lifts you up into a spin. You shriek with laughter and cling to him to make sure you don’t fall when he sets you back down. 

“Darling, at least let her get into the house before you bother her.” Your mother says, and you roll your eyes but don’t say anything. 

Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty steps out of the carriage, and your father’s demeanor changes. His smile is still there, but it no longer reaches his eyes. He extends a hand, and when Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty takes it, you can tell he’s holding back a wince from how hard your father squeezes it. 

“Timothy Holmes. It’s a pleasure.” Your father says curtly, and you can tell Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty can tell he’s being judged. But he offers a polite smile nonetheless,

“Albert James Moriarty. The pleasure is mine, Mr. Holmes.” He says, and it’s then that your mother approaches. Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty shakes her hand,

“You must be the infamous Wanda Holmes. It’s lovely to meet you.”

Your mother’s face smoothes over, and she looks at you,

“At least you’re marrying someone with manners.” This is her only comment, and you can see that the newspaper in her free hand is the one announcing your engagement. 

Perhaps you should’ve informed them by telegram instead of coming to visit for dinner… 

No… That would’ve made her even angrier than she already was. 

She soon ushers you into the little cottage that served as your parents' retirement home. The minimal staff on site has already prepared and served dinner, but you don’t eat just yet because your father catches your shoulder. He has a knowing gleam in his eye, and you can’t help but get a giddy smile on your face. 

Of course, he wouldn’t forget. 

Your mother notices, and her face sours. 

“Can’t this wait until after dinner?” She asks, and now your father scoffs,

“Of course not, my love! It’s tradition!” He crows, and you can see Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty start to ask, but you’re taken out back before anything can be asked. 

Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty follows you out, and by then, your father is setting up targets with you, assembling the two pistols you always used for this little exercise. You brush off your hands on your dress and hand your father the revolver. You take your own and pocket it in the holster strapped to your waist. He does the same and looks to Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty. 

“Mind giving us a signal?” He asks, his tone much more friendly yet still a bit frosty at the same time. 

Your ‘fiancé’ seems to pick up on what’s happening quickly and nods. He allows both of you to take a stance before calling out a signal. 

The game takes less than twenty seconds. 

You whip out your gun and unleash all six bullets in the cylinder and barrel. Your father does the same, and before you know it, both of your guns are empty, and your ears are ringing. Holstering the weapon, you wait for your father to do the same before approaching the targets. 

Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty is called forward to inspect the targets as well. 

“I believe your daughter is the winner.” He tells your father, and you grin proudly. 

“Guess I haven’t lost my touch, Father Dearest.” You tease, and your father slaps his thigh in defeat,

“And I guess I’m losing mine!” He chirps, and your mother calls from the doorway.

“And it’s time for dinner!”

The carriage ride back is quiet. 

“Where did you learn to shoot like that? I’ve never seen someone so accurate in a quick draw.” Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty says, and you jolt lightly. The food you had eaten was sending you into a food coma, and you had been dozing until he spoke. 

“My father. He was known as “Dead-Eye” for a long time until he retired from the military.” You said, and he nodded in appreciation. 

“He taught you well.” 

You smiled and played with your fingers. 

“Thank you, Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty.” You say genuinely, and he arches an eyebrow, 

“You should call me Albert. We are engaged, after all, my dear fiancée.” His tone is borderline teasing. But you can tell he’s being genuine.

And for whatever reason, it makes your heart race. 

The mission is kicked into gear three months after announcing your ‘engagement.’ 

The gala you are attending is only for married or engaged couples. Everyone was investigated to ensure no one single was sneaking in. Why they wanted to keep single folks out was a mystery to you. But you relented and accepted the invitation as the ‘Future Mrs. Moriarty’ with as much grace as you could muster. 

You produced the invitation from your handbag and handed it to the man checking said invitation. Your free hand was looped through Albert’s arm, resting in the crook of his elbow. He chatted amicably with the doorman until you were announced as a couple and ushered inside. 

The air was already alive with the sounds of music and dancing couples. The two of you make some rounds around the sides of the dance hall, looking for your target. Hell, you even danced the waltz to a few songs! All those lessons you thought were useless were sure coming in handy now… Perhaps you should thank your mother for forcing you to listen to your governess as a child. 

Albert leans down to whisper in your ear as he brings you in from a gentle spin. 

“He’s at the top of the stairs.” He murmured, looking for all the world like he was whispering sweet nothings to his fiancée. But instead, he was walking you through the next phase of the plan. Seeing as your job was to kill your target, he was instructing you on how to get to his office, where he would meet you and find the documents he was looking for. 

Albert was to find the incriminating evidence. You were to kill the target if he tried to resist. 

The office was warmed by a crackling fire. There’s a large mahogany desk in front of the fireplace with documents and papers scattered across the surface. You clutch your purse closer to your chest, feeling the sturdy weight of the revolver inside. It was comforting. 

You had one job, so you would do it, and you would do it well. 

The doorknob turned, and you jumped, sneaking a hand inside your handbag to draw the revolver. The door opens, and the target spots you in front of the dying light of the fireplace. 

“Who are you?!” He bellows, but you know no one would be able to hear him over the sounds of music and talking. 

He doesn’t hear the door shut behind him until Albert slides the lock into place. He whirls and tries to push past your fiancé, but it’s like trying to move a stone wall. 

“What are you going to do to me?!” The target demands, and Albert smiles a terrifying smile. It was nothing like the kind and even tender smiles he had been giving you as of late. This smile darkened his eyes. 

It was almost… Cruel…

“Nothing if you cooperate.” He says darkly and pushes the man to sit in the chair before his desk. You walk behind him and press the muzzle of your revolver to the back of his balding head. He freezes, a drop of sweat traveling down his temple. 

Albert rifles through the desk, and no one says a word for what seems like forever. 

At least… Until the target tries to run. 

The chair has a low back. It’s almost more of a stool, so he throws his head back and cracks it into your nose. You stumble back and fall, tripping over the hem of your dress. The only thing keeping you from firing your gun is the fact that your father had engrained it into you to not keep your finger on the trigger until you were ready to fire.

Albert freezes and reaches into his suit jacket coat, but you’re faster. 

Before the target can even make it two paces, you fire your revolver, and the bullet sinks into his skull. Brain matter and blood spatter across the carpet. The pain sets in as Albert helps you to your feet and hands you a handkerchief for your bleeding nose. 

There’s no way you could go back out into public like this…

And as always, it seems Albert reads your mind. 

“We’ll escape out the window.” He says and pockets a few documents. 

“Did you get what you need?” You ask, and he nods, his smile tender and warm again.

It makes your heart flutter. 

The two of you escape out the window like Albert had said. Luckily, the carriage was already waiting outside, so you were able to retreat without being seen. 

Mission accomplished. 

You scowl at Mycroft as he reads through your very first report from MI6. 

“It’s a bit lackluster, but everything went according to plan?” He asked, and you huffed. 

“Except for the part where I broke my nose.” You say, your voice slightly garbled from the bandages on your nose. Mycroft simply nods, 

“These things are expected to happen. Be glad it wasn’t anything more serious.” He says, tangles his fingers together, and leans his chin on them. “If you’d like, we can feed the newspapers a story about your and Lieutenant Colonel’s parting of ways. You don’t have to be engaged to him anymore.” He continues, and you freeze. 

Not be engaged anymore? 

“What about Mother and Father? They’ll be furious.” You say absentmindedly, and he cocks his head to the side. 

“Since when have you ever cared what they think?” He says, confusion coloring his tone. You avert your gaze. 

“I’m just saying… I don’t mind taking more missions from you from now on…” You mumble and stare at the carpet. But you can hear the smile in his tone when he speaks next. 

“If that’s what you desire, sister dearest. I’ll let Lieutenant Colonel know of your decision.”

[lvest]

Omg I love your William headcanon! Idk if you accept requests, but i would love to see you write a fic either on Albert or Von Herder

Lots of love,

Anon.

ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ Albert James Moriarty x reader.

|| Thank you for requesting!! I'm genuinely happy that you all enjoy my writing, and thank you for requesting anon!! I hope I don't mischaracterize him. Gn!reader and enjoy!

|| TW : None!! (ˊᗜˋ )

The sounds of birds chirping can be heard outside the window as the sunlight shines through the small gap between the curtains, making [name] turned in their sleep.

Albert felt his heart flutter at the sight of his beloved looking so peaceful during their slumber. Albert found his fingers moving on their own as if it has a mind of it's own as they gently, hold a strand of [name]'s hair, twirling it between his index finger; it felt so soft against it, he could smell the sweet scent of shampoo [name] usually used.

He couldn't help but crack a smile at the sight of his beloved, his fingers moving to reached their cheek as he caresses them, feeling the soft skin. He could see [name]'s lashes flutter as he watched them flutter their eyes open, seeing a small scowl on their face, making Albert chuckle underneath his breath as [name] eyes then met his, turning the scowl into a smile.

Oh how Albert felt his heart skips a beat at the sight of that sweet smile, a small "Good morning." left his lips as he held their cheek with one hand. "Mhm, morning Al, have you been watching me sleep?" [name] replied with a teasing tone, even when they just woke up they're already teasing him, resulting in him crackling a small chuckle.

He took a moment to recall how he remembered [name] being so adventurous whenever he and [name] finished their mission a little earlier, he recalled their memories together; [name] calling Albert's name with those cheerful tone he cherishe and adore utterly, seeing [name] smile while playing with stray cats or dogs whenever [name] managed to found one. He would wonder how one's soul could be so adventurous as if [name] isn't afraid of anything. How [name] managed to make Albert crack a smile whenever he's feeling stressed and pressured he could always come to [name] and he'll always find a reason to smile.

[name] truly means a lot to him, how [name] always there for him, anyone knows how smitten he is for his beloved, even Heavens above would agree. How his heart races everytime he sees [name] even if it's only a glimpse of them, would he trade [name]? No. Never in million years, decades, centuries.

Does "fate" agrees?

Unfortunately, no.

Albert fluttered his eyes open, seeing the other side of the bed empty; leaving a melancholia atmosphere even when the sunlight shines through the window, it still couldn't help make the void in his heart disappear. He couldn't help but let a single tear rolled down his cheek, seeing the empty side.. He misses [name]'s presence... a lot.

How cruel of it, to take away his only joy, his other half, his significant other.. He took away [name] out of all things. Albert would rather "fate" took away his wealth, his strength, his life.. not his beloved, his dear [name]. Even after their death he couldn't forget them, no, how could he? Everything reminds him of [name]. Even small things like books, tea, flowers..

He remembered the time where they would spend their free time snuggling against one another with a cup of hot freshly brewed tea, how [name] would gently caressed his hair while muttering about the book they've read.

Albert misses their voice, that sweet tone, how gentle it sounded to his ears, how it sounded like a sweet melody that'll captived him anytime, and yet, he couldn't hear it again. Never. Even if he begs to Heavens above; to God to bring back his beloved, his significant other it wouldn't change a thing.

[name]'s gone, and Albert couldn't let go.

|| I look forward to what you guys think about this, I'm sorry if i make any mistakes in spelling, grammar, etc, English isn't my first language. I tried my best though!! I'm sorry if i mischaracterize him, but i think this is how he'll act ( ｡– ‸ –｡). I'll make more soon, feel free to request!!

[ananiel]

I was thinking of doing some vibes for my stories and in general!

Hope You like them! Some vines Will have some easter eggs for future stories!

Also some Will have crossovers, You can check more at @kanroji-san account, i think her crossovers are amazing

Trigger warning : yandere themes, mentions of unhealthy relathionships, read at your own risk

---------------------------------------------------

Witch! Reader : ah, they grow up so fast. I can't believe... It feels like yesterday when we had to fight Mycroft for custody...

Louis : because yesterday we did fight him

Witch! Reader : oh, yeah

---------------------------------------------------

William : i feel like You are distancing yourself from us, let's talk

*obanai! Reader hiding in witch! Reader's home*

Obanai! Reader : sir, this is a potion and cursed tapicery shop, not therappy shop

*witch! Reader's broom exiting to push him away*

---------------------------------------------------

Spirit one : he's evil

Spirit two : he's gonna kill You

Spirit three :RUN WHILE YOU CAN, LADY!

Albert : so i want You to know, i would never hurt a fly, much less a human

Entity/person able to see spirits!reader :mhm...

Spirit four : you're a goner

---------------------------------------------------

Muichiro! Reader : what are You doing here?

*Albert wraping his arms tighter around You, mumbling*

Albert : you asked me to be here

Muichiro! Reader : i did?

Albert : mhm

Muichiro! Reader : ah, i forgot... I had a weird dream...

Albert : what happend?

Muichiro! Reader : you broke into the room

Albert : very weird indeed

---------------------------------------------------

Yurrichi! Reader : Thank You for The Tea

Louis : anytime

Yuriichi! Reader : i am very glad i met You, Louis

Louis : really?

Yuriichi! Reader : Yes, i never thought i would have someone to bond with like you, or someone sharing my experience with a brother that moves away from you... It makes me feel less alone... And again, thank You for The delicious tea and that You let me do some work around the house-

Louis : marry me

[deepfivetraveller]

The textile syndicate

This story is a request and it won't feel as inclusive, since readers nationality is Indian. With that said, if you still want read this have fun :D

You instruct your servants the moment you get out of the carriage. “Alright everyone, unload everything.” They instantly take out all the wooden boxes, many of them adorned with intricate designs. You take one look at the garments inside  and give them a nod of approval.

‘Why did these Britishers hire me of all people? Surely they could find someone better’ You ponder.

But there is no time to waste. The grand Moriarty manor stands right in front of you. As you take a deep breath in, you put your right foot forward, officially entering the manor

“Moneypenny, do you want any style in particular?” Albert chimes. “Thank you for your concern, but I don’t know a thing about sarees.” With that, she crushes his chance for a conversation. To further show her discontent she puts a biscuit in her mouth, an indication she doesn’t want to talk further.

“Ah.” He grows silent. Albert doesn’t blame her for this behaviour. A mission to India takes at least two months of transport time. Obviously no person wishes to be trapped in a wooden hulled ship for that long. He quickly turns to William. “Brother, why did you call her out of all the saree producers?”

“Uhh…” William puts down his teacup. “No particular reason.” Albert’s eyebrows cross at his response.

“And you expect me to believe that lie? Please dear brother.” It was quite a peculiar situation, seeing the earl pout.

“There’s nothing to it really. Saree is an Indian garment, She’s Indian. Plus, she is the daughter of a well educated businessman.” He grabs a mini sandwich from the tiered cake stand

His reason was technically true. William put a lot of effort in finding you. After all, you’re a part of their mission. Y/n L/n hailed from a town called Kanchipuram, the Silk City of India. She had also spend 5 years of her teenage life in Dhaka, India, which is known for creating a very important fabric, Important because it plays a part in their mission.

“She’s here” Louis pops out of the doorframe of the tea room. “Great! Let's get to it.” With Albert’s command, the other two rise up.

Talking to your clients didn’t seem quite hard but what throws you off is the blonde man with the scar staring at you constantly. Although he has been helping your servants with the boxes, anytime this happens you start to talk with the other blonde haired red eyed man in the room.

“If it’s alright, may I ask why you want to purchase a saree in the first place? England's weather is not suitable for this in the first place.” A question lingers.

“My assistant is going to Calcutta on my behalf for a business trip. She would be attending a party behesting myself, so we thought it would be a nice idea to buy one.” Albert straightens up.

“Hmm…In that case I don’t think you should buy any of these sarees.”

This sentence rattles Moneypenny. “Why not?” She retorts a bit aggressively. ‘So all that browsing was for nothing?’ She thought. “You would be visiting a North-Indian household. My sarees are made in a south Indian style.”

That’s a good excuse. Truth to be told, you don’t want to sell your sarees to them. The Indians and nobles with no ties to the government have been your primary clients for…that fabric. Exposure of your work to high standing Britishers might scare your actual customers away.

“But Ms.L/n, you do have North-Indian styles in your inventory.” William speaks up. “Uhm I don’t.” You’re confused.

“Yes you do.”

“But I don’t???”

“Then what about the Dhakha Muslin?”

Oh no.

“The illegal fabric?” Moneypenny jumps from her seat.

Dhaka Muslin, an Indian made fabric banned by Britishers. Throughout history many famous figurines such as Marie Antoinette, Joséphine Bonaparte and even Jane Austen have worn and loved this Muslin. After colonisation, Dhaka Muslin became popular among female nobles, as it was a status symbol. However they didn’t know how to layer it properly. Dhaka Muslin is a transparent fabric, so thin some say it’s woven out of air. Without proper layering and pleating, wearing it can make you look naked. Thus, it was banned by Britishers. Weavers were forced to make garments out of cheaper fabric to get food on their table and cheap fabrics of England replaced this one quickly. All methods of reviving this fabric were almost gone until your father invested in the business. Even after being banned, the demand for the fabric still exists.

“This should get interesting.” Albert perks up.

“Excuse me Mr Moriarty but these are nothing but faulty accusations—” “Then what about this?” William shows you a piece of paper. A paper containing all the transactions with you and your previous clients. Worst of all, it’s written in your handwriting and has your signature.

Anger and fear blossoms upon your face.You knew it was a bad idea to be related to them. You knew Albert had ties with the military and yet you willingly signed up to this.

“Don’t worry Ms.Y/n, I don’t plan on showing this to the police.” Albert chums up.

What?

“Well that is if you comply.” William smiles and takes out a checkbook and a pen. “Dhaka Muslin is a highly sought after fabric in the black market.” He turns to his brother. “Did you know brother, it takes almost 16 steps to create it.” William continues writing. “That’s quite high.”

“Which is precisely why it’s hard to make. Even the cotton for it can only be grown on a specific land.” He looks at you.

“Overflood the market.” He swiftly tears off the check and hands it to you. “What are you planning?” You glare. “That is our business, you are in no place to ask for that. Should we want to reveal it, you’d know then.” Albert gets up from his seat and towers you. “We give you five months time to prepare and sell. If anything money related troubles you, call us.”

“Uh Lord Albert what about my saree?” Moneypenny looks up at the brothers as if nothing happened. “Just wear a gown. The party is hosted by an Englishman anyway” With that they leave the room, leaving you alone with the lady. “Don’t look at me. I didn’t even know they were planning something.” She gets going too.

“I should have expected this.” You drop the files on the table, creating a loud bang. Three months have passed by but you still don’t know why they’re doing this. The only reason you’re able to stand them is because of the pay. They’ve even overpaid you in some cases. But maybe, that should have been your second warning, another reminder to escape England. Today, Lord Albert Moriarty directly came to where the fabrics arrived and informed you the operation has to be done within a few weeks. You argued, bitterly, even shouting a few curse words in your mother tongue but his decision was final.

It’s odd timing that at the very same moment hundreds of buyers emerged for the muslin. From old-money manors to local tailors, everyone wants this fabric now. Police investigations have increased, leaving buyers at risk, but they still order.

“So much paperwork…” You mumble. This isn’t the time to complain. You grab a pen and start filling out the papers. Half an hour goes by and you can already feel the dark circles coming in. 

“A break would help you, you know?” Your head turns in a flash and your eyes lock in contact with the blonde man.

“L-Lord William! S-Sorry for the mess, please, do sit.” Your hands grab onto all the paper on the table and quickly arrange them. “Please, Liam is just fine.” William moves, standing opposite to you.

He had visited you a multitude of times in your office. Once when you expressed your displeasure to plain English tea, he brought some chinese tea cakes to try out. Ehne you both tried it the concentration of the brew from said tea leaves of cake was so strong, both of you spat it out. Ever since then, the two of you have become very attached to each other.

He stared at you for a few seconds. “Your hair.” He briskly pressed his fingers on top of your head, smoothening the abrasive hair. You quickly use both your palms to flatten it out. “Pardon me.”

“No, pardon me. That was very rude.” He looks to the ground and quickly pulls out a box. “For you.” he shys away.

Inside it was a luminous golden ring. “A Vanki ring.” You immediately pick it up. A Vanki ring is a ‘V’ shaped ring usually worn by daughters of high priests or kings. “A retired Colonel named Moran told me Indian women commonly wear gold jewelry so…there it is.” His mouth turns into a straight line. You figured gift giving was William’s way of showing love but this was beyond what you expected. Vanki rings are not commonly known jewelry and finding a goldsmith in Britain to craft one is even harder….

He actually looks kinda cute.

“I know my brother's demands seem unfair, but time is really not on our side. And I know, you’re still quite clueless on why this is happening to you.” Your eyes still linger on the red gemstones. “We don’t mean anything bad, w-well the true reason is—” William goes silent.

“Why are you wearing it there?” He almost pales from shock. “Wear the ring where?” “on your ring finger!” He panics. “Vanki rings are usually worn on the ring finger. Plus, why did you Englishmen name it the ring finger if its purpose wasn’t for holding a ring?”

“That—UGH!” He covers his face with his palm, trying to hide his blush. “In England we wear a ring on that finger to signify…”William’s voice trails off.

“To signify what?”

“NOTHING. Good day.” With that , he slams the door to your office and leaves.

“My little brother did what?” Albert chuckles. “Yes! And he didn’t even give me a proper reason. what does wearing a ring on the ring finger mean anyway?”

“Nothing of importance.” Albert smiles calmly. “Please forgive William, he doesn’t mean bad.”

It’s the day before you sell all your fabrics to the people. Only one more day before you cut ties with these gentlemen. Albert had invited you to discuss plans but it suddenly turned to him drinking wine. “Why not try some?” He shows you a bottle. “It’s vintage.”

“Oh no no.” You apologise. “I don’t drink.”

“Scared of some dried grape juice?”

“Well alcohol addiction does run in my family so yes.” You lean back. “I don’t think I can convince you any further.” He puts down the bottle. “Are you sure? About the alcohol addiction.”

“Oh yes very much. My father had it. It’s the main reason why I’m in England.” This peaks his curiosity.Albert waits for you to give him an answer.

“My father was a great man.” you slid back further. “He loved my mother, he loved me…He always made sure to put us first before anything.” Your eyes lingered on the wine glass. “When my relatives pestered on marrying me early, he was the one who stood up against them and gave me an education. Father taught me all there is to his business. No one could argue that he wasn’t a good businessman but…” Your voice lowered.

“But what?” Albert took a sip. “But he was casteist. You see, I come from a line of priests. In India, people would call me a ‘brahmin’. In my country, being a brahmin has a higher status than that of a king. He did believe our family were somewhat spiritually higher but he never discriminated against anyone until he took alcohol. I don’t know what exactly happened to his mind.”

“He mistreated our servants and the weavers working for us, calling them ‘untouchables’, giving customers different rates according to their birth and whatnot.” You sighed. “Even my mother had enough of him. Fights occurred a lot in the family ever since then.” Your voice hitched at the end.

“Then my mother left. She couldn’t handle him anymore.” You blinked rapidly to avoid tears. Albert noticed this and was ready to change the topic but you continued. “I wanted to leave him. But I didn’t have anything for myself. No money, no name. I was this close to giving up.” You gulped your saliva.

“Then I remembered I was one of the few people in my family who knew how to read and write English. I was also responsible for writing up contracts and had spare copies of everything. I even had the records of the illegal transactions. Being such a large amount, I took the files directly to the British officials in Dhaka. My father was arrested and the officers were very pleased with my confession. They decided to pardon me even though I was involved in the business. The officers gave me a heap of cash and told me to start a life anew. But, I just couldn’t leave the weavers. They were completely dependent on my father, that’s why they tolerated him in the first place. So I took the risk, hired them under me, set up a new area for business and came to England in the name of ‘expanding my business’. ” You close your eyes and lay back your head after the confession. No wonder why you were frightened to the core when William showed your records. You thought Karma caught up and was about to do the same thing you did to your dad. 

“I’m sorry for being emotional.” All you could do was stare down in shame.You told everything to a man you truly don’t know. You didn’t want to know what he was thinking of you at the moment. You were so caught up in ranting, you weren’t even sure you narrated the events correctly.

“No I’m sorry for making you talk about this…” SIlence suffocated the room. 

“You and I…Are not so different.” He smiles. “My father was a little like yours.” “Really?” “Yes. But minus the ‘great’ part and the ‘loving my mother’. Everything else is just the same.”

“Oh.” A small sound just left your lips. “I too did something drastic in order to get away from him.” You finally turn up your head to see him, and was greeted by something shocking. His eyes were red. So were his under eyes. He cried.

“Do you regret it?” You asked hesitantly. “Not much. But I wish he were a better man. It wouldn’t have come down to that if he had respected my wishes.”

Tranquility filled the room again. Abruptly Albert got up. “How about we go horse riding? That should ease both our minds.” 

“In the middle of the night?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Why not? Unconventional times always lead to great discoveries.” He grinned. 

“Come on then.” He holds out his hand for you to grab.

The stable was devoid of any person, field with nothing but hay and horses. “Why don’t we ride this one?” He points the black horse.

“Oh it’s alright I know how to ride horses, no need to go on the same one.” You look around. “I’ll ride the brown one.” You point at it.

“...Very well then.” Albert was disappointed. He takes out both of the horses. 

The blades of grass shimmer dimly at the moonlight. The wind blows cold, causing goosebumps around your arms even with a coat. Albert assists you in climbing your horse and climbs his with ease.

“I’m guessing your father used to take you on rides?” You nod to his question.

Both of you do a swift flick on the reins and the horses are out running. The seemingly cold wind feels warm to Albert after he hears your giggles.

As you further go down the field, the horse starts to go faster. Unbeknownst to you, the horse wasn’t properly trained. At one point you pull on its rein to stop it, but the untrained animal runs faster instead. It starts to jump, trying to push you off its back. Albert wasted no time to rush to your aid. “Y/n!!”

You try with all your might to stay on it, but finally it pushes you off, leaving you tumbling to the ground.

“Y/n!” He screams at the top of his lungs. At a panic, he tries to get off the horse while its moving, stumbling while running towards you. “Oh my goodness, are you alright?” You blink rapidly, seeing two versions of Albert.

“Can you hear me? Oh dear lord.” He quickly removes one of his gloves. “Forgive me for touching you without gloves but we must put your health above your reputation.” Albert uses his two fingers to check your pulse on your throat.

“You don’t seem injured in any manner but…Let’s get you a doctor.” Within a split second he lifts you up with ease, carrying you back to the manor.

“Is your ankle fine?” William passes you a slice of cake. You softly touch over the bandages of your leg. “It’s better than before.” You smile.

The mission was completed successfully. Apparently the reason why they needed to overflow the market was because a nobleman used slaves to enlargen his fabric empire. Your marketing had given them enough time to corner him to ‘settle the dispute’. You did want to ask why they did this but seeing the fact that they had money and power to take down such an elite man, you don’t think its best to ask. Infact, you feel queasy interacting with them now.

“Ms. Y/n.” Albert calls you. “You seem to be very passionate about reviving the fabric of your nation. Why don’t we continue this deal further? Let’s talk about this at dinner… just the two of us.” He tries to avoid eye contact.

You’re still oblivious to his advances. “Oh no thank you, I—”

“NO!” William shouts with unyielding determination. This situation was very unpleasant and unprecedented. Never did William guess that his own brother would be in love with his love. 

He has to do something now.

“Brother this is not possible…” He replies sternly. After regaining his composite he continues. “...Because I’ve already invested in her ‘business’.” 

“Oh and tell me, by what means did you ‘invest?”  His usually monotone voice takes a mocking turn.

William almost wants to laugh at his brother's behaviour. He had never seen him being so childish. “By using this” He gently picks up your hand and shows him the ring.

“I’ve heard Indian women wear gold as an investment.” He continues. “And I say, this is quite a steep investment.” He looks at his brother slyly.

“A ring on the finger means nothing if the other doesn’t understand its true meaning. ” He spat. “Besides, if you’re really ‘married’ to her, have you initiated anything???? Me and Y/n have already went horse riding…as spouses do.” He smirked.

Marriage??? They were trying to court you?

“Y/n.” Both of them call you at the same time.

Whom do you choose? 

#William#

#Albert#

#???????#

#?!?!?!!?!?#

[dazaiosamuwifeandlover16]

____________A strangeer among them____________

Chapter 2

______________A Game of Fate________________

You woke up with a jolt, feeling disoriented. The events of the past few days were too surreal to be real, yet you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were trapped in some twisted version of a dream. As you rubbed your eyes and tried to sit up, something caught your attention—something... strange.

A black screen, like an ethereal display, hovered in front of you, its edges glowing faintly with golden light that seemed to shimmer like the sun itself. It was unlike anything you’d ever seen before, its presence unnerving yet mesmerizing. The text on the screen seemed to pulse with each beat of your heart.

[SYSTEM ACTIVATED]

"Welcome to the game, player. You have been chosen for a task."

The words were cold, mechanical, yet somehow personal. You blinked in confusion, trying to process what you were seeing. Was this some kind of hallucination?

The system continued, as if it had no patience for your confusion:

"Go to the street and stop whatever is going to happen.

If you refuse, death awaits you.

If you accept, you will gain 100 points and a special gift.

The choice is yours."

Your stomach turned as you stared at the screen. The message was absurd—death? Points? What kind of game was this? But... was there even a choice? You didn’t want to risk the alternative.

“Okay...” you muttered, a shiver running down your spine. “I’ll do it.”

[You have chosen to accept the task.]

The system flashed a golden glow, and a small notification appeared:

"100 points granted. Special gift unlocked."

You were about to say something, but a strange sensation washed over you. It felt as though you were being pulled toward something. As if an invisible force was guiding your every step. Without thinking, you got up, your body moving almost instinctively, and walked toward the street the system had pointed you to.

The city was still, the early morning fog curling around the cobblestones. But then, you heard it—a child’s scream, cutting through the silence like a knife.

Instinctively, you ran toward the sound, your heart racing. When you rounded the corner, you saw a small boy, no older than seven or eight, struggling in the grasp of a rough-looking man. The man’s hand was clamped over the child’s mouth, pulling him toward a dark alley.

Without thinking, you rushed forward, your body moving faster than you thought possible. You grabbed the man’s arm, pulling it off the child. “Let him go!” you shouted.

The man turned, his face twisted in anger. “What’s this? Another foolish girl thinking she can stop me?”

But before he could retaliate, you tugged the boy away, shouting for him to run. The man lunged toward you, but you were already darting down the street, the child following closely behind. Your heart pounded in your chest as you ran, adrenaline fueling your every step.

Just as you thought you were safe, a shout rang out behind you. The man was chasing you, but something felt different—he was slower. You realized that your speed had somehow increased, your legs moving faster than you’d ever experienced before.

As you reached a corner and ducked into an alley, you could hear the man’s footsteps fade into the distance. You turned to check on the boy, who was panting with fear. His wide eyes locked onto yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“You saved me...” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Thank you. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t come.”

You smiled softly and placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

Just as you were about to comfort him further, the system’s voice chimed in again, echoing in your mind:

"Task completed. 100 points awarded."

A new notification appeared on the screen in front of you, and you couldn’t help but read it:

**"You have completed the task successfully. You may now use your 100 points to improve one of the following:

1. IQ

2. IE (Emotional Intelligence)

3. Strange (Unusual abilities)

4. Beauty

5. Speed

6. Perception"**

You stared at the options, your mind racing. You were still trying to process everything, but you couldn’t ignore the possibilities.

Before you could make a decision, you whispered to the system, “How did I get here?”

But the screen stayed blank, the golden glow flickering slightly before it disappeared entirely.

A strange noise, like a phone ringing, broke the silence. You jumped and looked down to find your phone—your real phone—lying on the ground in front of you, its screen lighting up with a notification.

Confused and uncertain, you reached for it, your hands shaking as you picked it up.

The screen flickered, and an unfamiliar message appeared:

"Welcome to the world Stay alert, your journey has just begun."

The words burned into your mind as you stared at the phone, your mind racing with questions, and your heart pounding with fear and curiosity. What was happening to you? What kind of game had you been thrown into?

_______________________________________________

The boy had long since fled . his foot step fading into the distance.

the weight of the system’s message still heavy in your mind. Prevent the theft. You had no idea what that meant or how you were supposed to stop it, but you didn’t have time to dwell on that. The air was thick with an unsettling stillness, and you felt as though the world was holding its breath.

The system’s voice reverberated in your mind once again, calm and emotionless.

"Task initiated. Objective: Prevent the theft. Time limit: 10 minutes."

Your pulse quickened. Theft? How? The voice of the system didn’t offer any answers, only cold commands. But the strangest thing was happening. As you tried to think, to plan, a sensation crawled down your spine—the unmistakable feeling that someone was watching you.

You turned, scanning the streets. The buildings loomed over you, their windows dark and empty, but you couldn’t shake the oppressive feeling that eyes were following your every movement. A cold shiver ran down your neck. There was someone here, someone unseen. You couldn’t explain it, but you knew it with a certainty that made your skin crawl.

A low hum filled the air, and you blinked in surprise as the system’s voice sounded again, cutting through the silence.

"You must act quickly. The theft will occur soon. You have no time to waste."

You began walking, but your every step felt heavy, as though the very streets themselves were conspiring against you. The alleys stretched longer than they should have, and the fog seemed to thicken with each passing second. You had no plan, no strategy. How was a single woman supposed to stop a thief?

But then, you saw him.

A man, cloaked in dark clothes, moving stealthily through the mist. He carried something—a small, ornate chest clutched tightly in his hands, as if it were the most valuable thing in the world. Your heart raced. This is it. This is the theft.

You instinctively moved toward him, but doubt gnawed at your mind. What could you do? You were just an ordinary woman in an unfamiliar world. Your thoughts raced, but all you had was the feeling that you had no choice but to act.

The man noticed you, his eyes briefly flicking over to where you stood. For a moment, he hesitated. Then, without a word, he quickened his pace, moving toward a narrow alley as if to disappear into the shadows.

You couldn’t let him get away.

The system’s voice spoke again, a hint of urgency this time.

"Time is running out. You must stop him. Failure will result in penalty."

Fear clutched at your chest, but you forced yourself to move. You couldn’t fail—not when your life was on the line.

Without thinking, you sprinted after him, adrenaline coursing through your veins. As you turned the corner into the alley, you saw him standing at the end, a smirk curling on his lips. He knew you were following him.

You were close now, so close you could feel the heat of the chest in his arms. But what could you possibly do? You were just a woman—no weapons, no training. He was stronger, faster, and far more prepared for this moment than you were.

But you didn’t have time to doubt yourself. The moment had come. You had to act.

You lunged.

In that instant, you could hear the system’s voice, almost like a whisper in your ear: "Speed activated. Task critical."

A surge of energy flooded your body, propelling you forward with a speed that felt unnatural. Your hands shot out, grabbing the man’s arm before he could react. His eyes widened in surprise as you wrenched the chest from his grip. The force of your movement knocked him off balance, and he stumbled back, momentarily stunned.

He recovered quickly, but you had the chest now—its weight strange and foreign in your hands. For a brief moment, you stared at it, the intricate patterns carved into its surface gleaming in the dim light. It felt important—too important for someone like you to be holding.

“You won’t get away with this,” you said, voice shaking with both fear and determination.

The thief’s eyes narrowed, and he sneered. “A woman like you? What do you think you’re going to do with that?”

But before you could answer, a voice from behind you cut through the air, cold and steady.

“You’re not as invisible as you think.”

You froze, the words like ice settling in your stomach. Slowly, you turned, and there—standing in the shadows—was a man. His presence was unsettling, like a predator waiting for its prey. He was tall, his features sharp, his hair catching the faint light. His eyes were locked on you, studying you with an intensity that made your skin prickle.

He wasn’t just watching you. He was reading you—his gaze dissecting every movement, every twitch of your body. You felt exposed, as if he could see every hidden thought inside your mind.

“You... you’re not just anyone,” he said softly, stepping closer. “You’re different. I can see it in your eyes.”

You instinctively took a step back, clutching the chest tighter in your hands. What was this? Was this part of the game too?

Before you could react, the thief, still recovering from his shock, cursed and dashed for the shadows. He was retreating, but the man—the observer—was already moving. His eyes were trained on you as he closed the distance between you in seconds.

But as he reached out, a strange force seemed to ripple through the air, and you felt a surge of energy that wasn’t your own. You pushed back, startled, and the man faltered, momentarily caught off guard.

Your pulse pounded in your ears. The system’s voice echoed again in your mind, its tone almost mocking.

"Task completed. 100 points awarded. You have proven yourself useful... for now."

The screen flashed before you, and once again, the options appeared:

"You have earned 100 points. Choose how to allocate them wisely."

But you didn’t have time to think about the points. The man’s gaze was fixed on you, and there was something chilling about the way he looked at you. It wasn’t just curiosity—it was like he knew something about you, something you didn’t.

“You’re not from here, are you?” he asked, his voice low, almost a whisper. "I can see it... you're not like the rest of them."

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking into your chest. This wasn’t just about the game anymore. There was something far darker, far more dangerous lurking in the shadows. And he was a part of it.

With a final glance at you, the man turned and disappeared into the mist, his figure vanishing like a ghost.

You stood there in the alley, the chest still clutched in your hands, feeling the weight of the mystery press down on you. The game had only just begun.

_______________________________________________