HIIII!! I am Not A Real Goddess. People say I am ethereal, and I can't disprove them.
You can talk to me about anything. I love anime, many series and a lot of webtoon.
Do not use any of my works for anything. Ask Permission for them. Do not give any of my works for Artificial Intelligence. Do not like anything or follow me if you are Racist, Sexists, Homophobic, or support any of the people that are wreaking havoc in the world.
Moriarty The Patriot
This is a series which is interconnected and no way in series, so i am just going to put them like how i wrote them or uploaded yet.
Random shizzz
Time travel
Weird ahh coincidence
William James Moriarty
Nothing yet (Hopefully there would be something written by me soon)
Albert James Moriarty
A kiss on the Hair
Who knew
Louis James Moriarty
Nothing yet (Hopefully there would be something written by me soon)
Sebastian Moran
Nothing yet (Hopefully there would be something written by me soon)
Fred Porlock
Nothing yet (Hopefully there would be something written by me soon)
Mycroft Holmes
Nothing yet (Hopefully there would be something written by me soon)
Sherlock Holmes
My brothers are going to kill me
James Bond
Nothing yet (Hopefully there would be something written by me soon)
⤿ Characters: Dick Grayson/Nightwing | Reader (No use of Y/N) | Roy Harper/Arsenal
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⤿ Genre: Fluff | Comedy
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⤿ Background: Is it really a good morning for Dick Grayson?
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It’s early morning and Blüdhaven seems to still be waking up. Roy and Dick are seated at your diner, chatting away when you approach them, notepad in hand.
“Mornin, what can I get you started with?” you ask cheerfully, but with your body turned entirely towards Roy.
“Hmmmm, I’m thinkin omelette today,” Roy replies staring up from his menu.
“That comes with mushrooms, peppers, tomatoes and cheese, anything you don’t fancy on it?”
“Nah, everything's good, ooh and double toast the bread.”
“Magic words, Harper.”
“Double toast the bread please and thank you”
“Golden, anything else?”
“Orange juice, and I guess a coffee”
“Orange juice…and coffee, you’re a risk taker aren't you?”
Shrug. “I guess I like to live a little dangerously,” he jokes, winking at you.
You laugh at his antics. “Alright then, I’ll get that right out for you.”
Just as Dick begins to tell you his order, “I’l-”, you grab both menus and begin to walk away, pausing for a second to shoot daggers towards Dick before stalking off completely.
He’s left staring dumbfoundedly at your receding figure. “I didn’t even order.”
“Guess you’re ordering rights are revoked today”
Dick sighs and waits for you to come back.
15 minutes later you return with a tray of orders.
"One omelette with double toasted bread, orange juice and a coffee; 2 sugars and 1 milk.” You recite as you place Roy’s order down in front of him.
“You spoil me.”
“Pssh, my pleasure.”
You turn towards Dick, placing down a plate of fried eggs, toast and home fries with a cup of black coffee, throwing a casual “Enjoy!” to Roy before walking away again.
“Guess I didn’t need to order then,” Dick chuckles half heartedly, but Roy eyes him suspiciously, confused by the encounter.
As the two are eating, Roy notices you from the corner of his eye across the diner, your attention focused on Dick. He thinks to ask Dick why his partner is glaring daggers into his back but shrugs and decides why get caught in the middle?
You check up on the two as they finish their meal. “Everything alright here?”
Roy nods. “Great omelette! Compliments to the chef!"
“Actu-” “Let me know ok.” You cut of Dick once again before tending to some new customers.
So finally Roy decides to ask. “Dude what did you do? By my count you’ve been glared at and ignored all morning.”
Deep sigh. Dick puts down his cup of coffee. “We, um..had…a little fight”
“A fight, fights are little?”
“Ok maybe more like a ti-ny little spat, where someone maybe called someone else…over…dramatic…and you know was a jerk,” his answer trailing off as he sips his coffee.
“Oooooh yeah you're a jerk for that, what even prompted it?”
“Look man, it was a nasty fight and I was so exhausted but I knew I needed the injuries bandaged or I’d have an even harder time later with infections, I had only enough energy to get to our apartment and I guess there were one too many questions and I just kinda snapped,”
Roy cocks a brow.”
“It was an honest mistake, a slip of the tongue?”
“Hmmmm.”
“Don’t give me that look”
“What look?”
“That ‘damn you fucked up bad’ look, I’ve been messaging and calling to apolgize for two whole days, and first there was no proper replies so at least now I see that texts are being read.” Dick pulls down his phone to show Roy the spam of apologies he’s left to you.
“Sucks to be you.” Now it’s Dick’s turn to glare at Roy, while the latter just laughs.
Once the two of them have finished, you come back to clear up the dishes.
“I’ll be back in a sec with the check,” you say as you lug away the dirty dishes.
You come back with a card machine and the bill.
Roy has his wallet in hand. “If it’s ok I’ll pay with cash”
“Oh don’t worry, it's on the house today.”
“Oh come on, are you sure?”
“Of course~!, consider it a trade for Oliver’s chili you brought over,” you reply as you type into the card machine.
“Great~! Thanks again, next one’s on me though.”
The two begin to get up, but you place the bill and card machine in front of Dick.
“It’s on the house for Roy” you state in a deadpan voice, eyes locked with Dick’s, which he notices are less glare-like.
Sigh. Dick reluctantly picks up the bill, checking the total until his eyes go wide.
“30% tip?!? and why is HIS order on my bill?!?!”
“I said it was on the house, I didn’t say which house” you state, shrugging, your expression unbothered.
Roy is trying to hold back laughter as he switches looking between the two of you. Dick looks so dumbfounded and you just roll yours eyes and huff out a “credit or debit?”
In a defeated sign, Dick just takes out his wallet, mumbling “credit..”
With the order all paid for, you cheerfully bid goodbye to Roy and mumble a simple “bye” to Dick.
But as the two are about the sit inside the car, you come rushing out of the restaurant towards them.
“WAIT!” The two turn around at the familiar voice.
You extend a hand towards Dick, a few bills in hand
“What’s this?”
“i didn’t think you’d actually pay the bill,” you mumble out.
“Hmm, what was that?” Dick definitely heard, a teasing smile already blooming.
Sigh. “I was just playing around, why did you actually pay the entire bill dummy”
“Oh I’m the dummy?”
“Yes, now take this and go.” You shove the cash forward to Dick’s chest
“Your wish is my command” Dick replies, dramatically bowing and taking the cash from your hand
“Ok then.” You shift your eyes from Roy and Dick. “…bye.” You turn to walk away, only to be pulled back by Dick who swiftly pulls you towards him and you stumble into his chest.
Dick places a sweet little kiss on your lips, leaning in deeper, smiling into the kiss until you lightly push back for air and he loosens his grip around you.
“Ok, ok,” You’re laughing as you bid him goodbye. “I’ll see you later, I have to get back to work.” You peek behind you to see your boss through his window narrowing his eyes at you before scrambling to look away when he almost meets Dick’s gaze.
You walk back into the diner just as Dick shouts after you.
“I LOVE YOU BABY!”
You turn back to look Dick, who sends a little kissy face to you from that smug face of his.
You roll your eyes and walk just a little faster so the people in the parking lot don’t look at you, while Roy just shakes his head at his friend’s antics
“SAY IT BACK!”
You stop once again to turn back, with a sigh, you cup the side of the mouth “I LOVE YOU TOO!” you yell back before hurrying inside.
Roy is already in the car when Dick gets inside
“You guys are so embarrassing, can’t take you anywhere.”
Dick just shoves Roy’s shoulder, “You’ve done far worse in public.”
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⤿ Disclaimers and Credits: All rights for the drawings of Nightwing go to Webtoon writers and artists for WFA. Pictures not owned by me.
So i searched for a question about moriarty the patriot on Google, with no hope of getting an accurate or even close to an answer.
Somebody please tell me how a person 2 years ago asked the same question as me?? Obviously it's on reddit.
Idk why I am even questioning it. It's reddit.
Edit: i forgot to mention what I googled. I googled 'in what season did the tea party in moriarty the patriot take place.' And seasons like uk monsoon, spring, and Autumn. And I shit you not, the same question was on reddit. Go search it if u want proof.
i've asked what trope makes you guys instantly click on a fic but now is the question: what trope makes you guys instantly scoff at a fic? not death threats level, but a genuine displeasure when seeing it and it ruins your mood
Oh my gawd, i hate it when the reader has no personality quirks at all. I understand that the fic author wants to adhere to a larger audience, otherwise they get some kind of backhanded comments from people reading them, or maybe they just don't want to write anything like that. I love when the reader has a special quirk. I also hate it when the reader is a coward, or is just made to be scared so that they has to be saved. Or in better words just there for the character.
Also age gaps. You cannot for the life of me make me read an age gap fic. Probably because it has to go with the way I see older people like authority figures and i have had very bad experiences with them so it's just uncomfortable for me to read it.
i hate yandere or possession. I have liked a few yandere but then again they can't be qualified as yandere.
And last but not the least, i hate it when the character says 'you are mine'. It is a Just no for me.
even when you were younger, he was never exactly poor. maybe he was weirder than other kids, harsh too, but never poor. then going pro in football happened.
suddenly sae became the kind of person who bought things without checking the price first. expensive watches sitting carelessly on his wrist, first class flights, one night hotel stays that costed 20x more than your apartment, restaurants with menus that didn’t have numbers printed clearly beside the dishes.
flowers were nothing to him.
there was nothing strange about sae buying flowers, he could afford them easily. pretty bouquets wrapped neatly in paper of your favorite color.
the question was,
why was it always you receiving them ?
the first time it happened was on your birthday.
you weren’t doing anything special that year. you only decided to have dinner with family and a lazy afternoon spent at home because most of your friends were busy. sae texted you pretty early apologizing because he couldn’t make it back in time.
sae : busy, sorry.
it was expected, you didn’t take it personally anymore. you shouldn’t.
sae was always somewhere else these days, different countries, different schedules, different timezones. you met sae when you were both young, even back then people would already interview him. but still, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed.
but then the flowers arrived.
a bouquet of your favorite flowers tied carefully together with pale ribbons you never mentioned liking out loud. there was no note attached except for your name written neatly on the delivery card.
you stared at them for a long time, before immediately calling him.
sae answered after the third ring. “what?”
it had to be sae. the flowers screamed expensive and pricey. something sae would purchase. “did you seriously send me flowers?”
“they arrived?”
“obviously.” you almost laughed.
“okay.”
you waited but he never continued talking, “that’s it?”
“what else do you want me to say?”
you smiled despite yourself, sitting cross legged on the floor beside the bouquet. “thank you sae.”
you can hear a sigh from the other line, then quietly, “happy birthday.”
after that, the flowers kept coming.
it only happened once a month. random deliveries appearing at your door while sae lived at the opposite side of the world. you’d sometimes receive flowers after important matches, sometimes after long periods without seeing each other.
it honestly made no sense why he was constantly giving you flowers. you’ve tried reasoning out that maybe he misses you, but even then. that answer doesn’t feel complete.
the flowers changed constantly too.
soft colored roses one month, then white tulips on the next. bouquets filled with colors so pretty they looked fake underneath your apartment lighting. and somehow they were always flowers you liked. despite the fact that you don’t remember telling him your preferences for flowers.
you asked him about it once during a phone call.
“how do you even know what flowers i like?”
“you talk a lot.”
“no…? i swear i don’t!”
sae hummed absentmindedly from the other side. “stupid. you kept staring at them once.”
“what?”
“do you remember that shop we passed by?”
you blinked in surprise. you two passed by a flower shop months ago, only looking at the flowers displayed outside for a bit before continuing your walk. you barely remembered it yourself.
“you remember that?”
“yeah.”
eventually the flowers became normal enough that your friends stopped reacting whenever deliveries showed up.
“this is kinda romantic.” one of them started carefully while staring at the newest bouquet sitting on your table.
you nearly choked on your drink. “no? it’s sae.”
“exactly!”
you rolled your eyes even while your chest tightened slightly. because no matter how many flowers sae bought you, romance still felt impossible to imagine with him.
sae was difficult to read, and affection from him came confusing. but still, the flowers kept arriving.
somehow, they became more frequent. not monthly anymore, but every time you saw him.
sae would appear at your apartment carrying another bouquet. sometimes he handed them to you silently while walking inside, sometimes they were already waiting in his passenger seat before picking you up somewhere.
and so you started buying more vases because of him.
your apartment slowly filled with flowers in different corners. the kitchen counter, near the windows, beside your bed. soft colors everywhere, making your white space look colorful with a smell faintly sweet all the time.
sae noticed immediately the first time he visited after you rearranged them all. his eyes moved around your apartment quietly before landing on another bouquet sitting near the television.
“so you kept them.”
“the flowers?” you frowned slightly. “ofcourse i would.”
he stared at the flowers a second longer before looking away again. “some of them are dead.”
“dead flowers are also pretty.” you walked over to fix one of the vases absentmindedly. “they’re all pretty.”
sae watched you quietly after that. his expression turned strange sometimes whenever you handled the flowers he bought. there was something quieter in his face whenever he caught you trimming the stems carefully or changing the water every few days.
like he was seeing something he wanted to touch but didn’t know how to.
the realization hit you fully one evening while the two of you stood inside your kitchen together.
another bouquet rested against the counter waiting to be arranged. chinese roses, your favorite lately after mentioning them once in passing conversation nearly three weeks ago.
sae stood beside you silently while loosening the sleeves of his shirt, watching you cut the stems one by one. the entire apartment felt calm in the quiet way it always did around him. just soft clinking glass and running water.
then you opened your mouth, “sae.”
“hm?”
you glanced toward him. “why do you keep buying me flowers?”
he looked at you, lifting his eyebrows not really expecting that kind of question, “because i can.”
“no.. that’s not really what i mean.”
“then ask properly.”
you sighed softly, “i’m asking, why is it me?”
sae’s eyes shifted toward the flowers spread across your apartment slowly, almost thoughtful. there were so many now that even he probably noticed how excessive it looked.
“i’m not saying i don’t appreciate it—” you murmured. “you just never buy anyone else flowers so..”
“i don’t want to.”
“sae.”
he clicked his tongue quietly after that, gaze dropping toward the counter.
for a second, he almost looked nervous.
“when i’m somewhere else,” he started slowly, “i see things that remind me of you.” sae looked irritated saying it aloud.
“flowers?”
“sometimes.”
“…sometimes?”
he glanced at you briefly. “colors, places.” another pause. “flowers.”
you stared at him quietly, starting to understand what he’s trying to tell you.
“then i buy them,” he continued. “because it’s easier than thinking about you all the time.”
the kitchen suddenly felt too warm.
sae exhaled softly through his nose before looking away again, “it’s annoying.”
“what is?”
“you." he stops and think for a second before continuing, "i’ll be in another country and still think about you... like how i see flowers and wonder if they’d look good in your apartment.”
you looked around slowly at all the bouquets filling your home. we’re each bouquet of flowers a sign you didn’t notice?
he finally looked directly at you then, sharp eyes quieter than usual.
“i’m in love with you.”
your breath caught somewhere painfully in your chest. sae watched your expression carefully, shoulders tense enough to reveal how serious he actually was despite how calm he sounded.
“say something,” he muttered eventually.
you blinked once. “you bought me an entire flower shop before confessing?”
his face twisted immediately. “don’t make it weird.”
you laughed softly before you could stop yourself. he frowned at the sound, though his shoulders relaxed slightly afterward.
“i didn’t know how else to do it.”
and that was more romantic than the flowers themselves.
TW: Mentions of Alcohol
Pairings: Sebastian Moran x Reader (Y/n)
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Sebastian Moran, the right-hand man of the one and only, Criminal mastermind, Lord of the Crime: William James Moriarty.
He was returning to his post after talking to Thomas Michaelson regarding Count Blitz Enders when someone collided with him.
You.
Y/n L/n.
Sebastian’s hands moved before he fully understood what had happened. His fingers tightened briefly around your arm, steadying you before you stumbled.
“Careful..” The words left him automatically, a hint of recognition flashing in his eyes.
He knew you, or rather, he knew of you.
You were the flower girl who worked across from the diner he frequented while he waited for William’s telegram. He often sat in a corner booth nursing a glass of coffee or alcohol. Sometimes watching you work, other times observing the streets of London.
For some unexplainable reason, you were unforgettable without trying, and it annoyed him.
At first, he dismissed it as a passing curiosity, but it lingered, and it was something he had no intention of looking into.
Because this was not the fleeting attraction he found in loud bars and reckless nights.
It was quieter.
“You again?” Her quiet voice brought him back.
“You seem to appear wherever I am,” she comments.
He didn’t have an answer.
First, he frequented the diner she worked across from. Then he bumped into her during his first mission under William. That was when he finally learnt her name. Then now this? It seemed like fate was messing with him just to keep him on edge. He couldn’t afford to raise any suspicion that he is related to the Moriartys. One mistake could jeopardize everything William was building.
Before he could muster up a proper answer, someone called her. “Guess you’ll be seeing me around.” That’s all she said before disappearing down the hallway.
Later that evening, as he was trying to find a quiet spot to unwind after the frustratingly long dinner service, he ran into her again.
They were on one of the lower decks where the staff and civilians stayed. She stood on the lounge’s balcony looking over the sea. The sea breeze drifted through her dark strands.
As he was about to leave to try and find some other spot, she turned around.
“You surely want to prove me right,”a hint of teasing in her voice.
“Most people avoid this spot.” He doesn’t acknowledge her teasing directly.
They stood in a comfortable silence.
“You got a prosthetic?” She hesitantly asks, her gaze moving to his gloved hand.
“People usually pretend not to notice.” The silence stretches as he stares at the waves below. “You don’t seem intimidated.”
He glances at his watch, then their surroundings, before briefly landing on her. “It’s late. We shouldn’t be out in the open.”
She nods. “Good night, Mister Moran.”
He nods back before they part ways.
It was the night before the final act. Sebastian stayed vigilant, his eyes tracking anything out of order. That was when he saw Y/n being cornered by a drunk man. Before he could think, his feet carried him quietly across the dining hall and planted him between the man and her.
The drunk man paused mid-sentence, stumbling back. His face went pale at whatever he saw in Sebastian’s expression. Before anyone could understand what had just happened, the drunk man ran.
“You must have frightened him rather badly for him to flee without a word.” She teases.
“Why are you here? This place is filled with pretentious nobles,” He asks, his gaze scanning the room for threat.
“I was replacing the flowers.” She turns around and continues doing just that. “Thank you for stepping in, Mister Moran.”
He nods in acknowledgement, then goes back to scanning the room as he had trained himself to, but this time his gaze lingered on her. He hated it. He didn’t know why he kept looking at her. He knew lingering there was foolish, yet he remained rooted to the spot. This was dangerous.
For the remainder of the evening, he switched back and forth between his original spot and the spot near Y/n’s flower station.
After the final act, Sebastian and Fred were working discreetly to erase any evidence. As they finished up and headed back to the upper deck, Sebastian took a detour to clean the soot from his coat and gloves. Y/n runs into him again, but they both aren’t surprised this time.
“Hello Mister Moran,” she greets him.
“You look tired.” She observes him quietly. “You also smell like gunpowder.”
He tenses, his jaw clenching. Before he can reply, she continues.
“You are too stiff to be a waiter. You look out of place compared to the other staff.” She pauses to look at his reaction, but he stays stoic.
“You have this edge that I cannot pinpoint, Mister Moran.” She studies him once again. “But some things are better unknown than known, aren’t they?”
For a moment, he stares at her, assessing whether she is a threat. When he realizes that she wasn’t going to pry, he unclenches his jaw, not fully relaxed but not tense either.
“Is that so?” he asks, his low voice threading through the distant crash of the waves. He adjusts the cufflinks of his uniform. “Then I appreciate the discretion.”
Her gaze lingers on him, softer now, no longer merely observant. “I have a feeling this won't be the last time, Mister Moran.” Then she turns and walks away.
In the days after the voyage, Sebastian became quieter, more irritable, and prone to drifting thoughts. No matter how much he tried, the feeling of something missing, something left incomplete, didn’t leave him. Her final words, “This won’t be the last time, Mister Moran,” continued to echo through his thoughts far longer than they should have.
Sebastian’s odd behaviour is noticed by two people: Fred and William himself. Sebastian and Fred argued more due to his irritability. William noticed the small mistakes made by the usually diligent Sebastian.
Out of the two, William was the first to confront him.
William closed the study door behind him. Sebastian sat in his chair, nursing a glass of whiskey. His table was slightly askew, with papers not stacked properly, and the ink bottle left slightly open. William walked to the window.
“Three millimeters,” William says softly, his voice cutting through the silence.
Sebastian looks up at William,“What is it, Liam?”
“You missed the bullseye by three millimeters yesterday.” William mused.
“You misplaced Albert’s letter, argued with Fred twice this week, and arrived here wearing your gloves inside out. I must admit, I’m beginning to worry.” William stepped back from the window and sat across from Sebastian.
“A soldier of your caliber does not make three mistakes consecutively, Sebastian. Something has disrupted your mind. Something external has made you deviate from the equation. Care to share the variable, Sebastian?” William waited for his response with a hint of curiosity in his gaze.
