#templar!au

[mirayladraws]

I was participating in After Camlann Big Bang, although my writer sadly couldn’t finish it so she agreed for me to post it separately!

I didn’t post two of the arts though, just to keep some spoilers away when she finishes the story! 😌✨

(Yes some of them are just sketches and their outfit design but still I hope you like it!)

[yurnu]

Redesign of Adam and the exorcists' armor/uniforms ⚜️🔱🎸

[designtheendless]

Assassins Creed au requested by @aralezinspace ! ⚔️

[prymith]

Saint/Spy AU : Ethan Hunt and Simon Templar

What happens when the IMF's best agent and an international thief become more than friendly?

For all the talented writers in the ao3 tag who've developed such a brilliant crossover (including @adiduck and @oathkeeperoxas who've done amazing work).

[battlecatbeta]

🎄🌟✝️

[kinginthemask]

…𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍 𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒆𝒈𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒑𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒉𝒊𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒑 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉.

[kit-williams]

Hail to the King

For @konigsblog as a thank you for the follow and I guess to what expect of my writings.

tw: this is lewd, delusional König, warhammer 40k shenanigans, König is a Black Templar (see The 40k au for why)((I might try to write another with him as a Blood Angel)) I am shit at trigger warnings

It wasn't his fault that they hadn't kept a better leash on their Schätze. In his defense the chapter serf should have known better and the mortal... well she shouldn't have looked so helpless and cute. Normally he would be thrilled and an honor to join a kill team to slay xenos but this was suppose to be a punishment on learning to not touch what wasn't his.

He walked down the hall of the alien craft chopping down any xeno unfortunate to walk into his path. Most of the Inquisition agents he was around were men... it seems the Inquisitor had been warned about his pecularities.

"You're not suppose to be here." His head snapped over to the voice of a little Maus. He could feel his mouth salivate as the space suit hugged her form in a pleasing way. Oh sure to many baselines she was hardly different from the form of a man but he could see... as well as the custom suit with the symbol of the Inquisition on her front. But the way she was leaning over a console with the curve of her ass just on display.

"Auch, Where am I suppose to be then Maus?" He said annoyed trying to not play his hand but lucky for him his suit hid his eyes from the way they lustfully ran over her body. Though he looked at the bodies of the Xenos littering the room. "You being a little Maus and just coming in after all the fighting is done?"

He could see the pout on the other side of her visor, "Rude. No I cleared the room myself. Oh was a shame that it had to come to blows but then again..." He stopped listening as soon as her hips started to sway with what she was saying. He wanted to dig his fingers into her flesh as his hips moved against hers only hearing her pretty little moans. "Hey big guy!" She finally shouted over the vox.

König resumed paying attention to his Maus. "Ja?"

"Thanks for paying attention...," The sarcasm was obvious in her voice, "anyway. Like I said earlier you're not suppose to be near me and you're suppose to be on the other side of the ship dealing with Xenos."

"The fighting led me this way and given the amount of dead at your feet Maus. You're not exactly alone. It would be a shame if your Inquisitor lost your expertise." He purred out the last few words just buttering her up a little.

"Well... you're not wrong..." He could easily tell she was preening under his complements, "But the Inquisitor said you weren't allowed near female agents or crew members. So be off with you... shoo." She tried her best to wave him off as she turned back to the console.

Konig held a growl in his throat he'd has to teach his Maus manners later. But he was on duty and purging Xenos in the name of the Emperor came first and pleasure later. He started back down the hall before he heard mechanics and her soft little 'Oh hi.' He rushed back as soon as the rapid burst fire rang out and abhorrent xenos cries as he rushed back into the room.

She was in the middle of wrestling one as it was trying to grab her rifle out of her hands. He snarled out as he was upon them in a moment as thick xeno blood painted the walls and her suit as his chainsword ripped through the xeno flesh. Her head turned at the sound of a chime and she grabbed the assumingly heretical technology... then again he wasn't the biggest fan of the Mechanicus and knew Inquisitors tended to flirt with the Dark Mechanicus or heretecks to get better tech.

"Well I'm done here. Thanks again big guy!" She chirped and patted his chest before he grabbed her and pulled her to his chest.

"Nein! You'll just find trouble klein Maus. Und how will you get out of trouble all by yourself hmm?" He cocked his head to the side and watched her fold her arms over her chest. He was giddy as she was just the right amount of willful yet submissive. He knew what was for her own good... he had experience and age. She sighed as she settled into his arm holding her without much of a fight.

König knew he could get his hands on a pretty little Maus during his time here.

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Bonding Rituals

Previous =-= Next

Author's note: More of Claude in mermay. That's @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Cedric.

Summary: Claude hears some strange noises and investigates, what he sees is some strange bonding, and vaguely masochist ritual between a couple of Black Templars.

Warnings: none? Let me know if I need to add anything!

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k

He continues to swim through the water, he’d put the wretched mirror, that might be cursed back into one of his pockets. There are quite a few different pods and schools of space marines in these waters, loyalist, renegade. All of First Born, and he’s only sensed the rare Primaries Space Marine. One of the primaris marines that he’s sensed that are nearby is a good friend of his Cedric- who he’s not seen a long time, since their assignments came down and they were to be sent to different chapters. He’s… he’s fine. Just… it’s the stress from everything and getting shifted into these strange waters after being nearly killed in battle that has him all out of sorts and… seeing Lies in the Mirror.

If he was… if he was a dreadful, hated shape shifter, surely he would know? The Mechanicus would have said something? Or not. But his pod, they don’t shift, or, at least they hadn’t. The Primaris Space Marines who exhibited Oddness or Powers far faster or more strongly were taken away by the Mechanicus… never to be seen or heard of again. That’s why he never said anything about the whispers, the green, the giggles. For it would have him die while in training and his body parts used to further the goals of their handlers. Dying is something that happens, to all, but he’d rather die in glorious service, rather than found wanting and Not Being What He Should be.

Claude had been swimming about lazily, it was during one of his days off and during his free time, he was ... mostly recovered from learning about that Lie in the Mirror. That shard of a mirror that feels like it burns in his armor's pocket. But for some reason he can't discard it, try and trade it away or something. When he tries he gets a wicked headache and some voice within him warns him not to.

So he doesn't and very reluctantly has kept it. As he starts to spiral and brood about the mirror shard he hears an odd clanging noise. And voices speaking in one of the primary languages that the Black Templars speak, as well as more odd clanging noises. Curious, he swims in the direction of the noises, laughter and voices speaking. He sees a mildly scowling Cedric who has his Apothecary 'you are doing something stupid and I have to watch' face.

One of the other Black Templars that he recognizes is Ramiel. He's in an odd large stick with another back templar seated across from him precariously on the wooden stick. He sees that Ramiel was just given a large, heavy dark pan. The pair of Black Templars seem to the shit talking each other- from the way they are posturing. Then Ramiel brings up the pan, takes a swing and smacks the other Black Templar on the side of his head. The other Black Templar sways a moment, before righting himself. Claude hadn't meant to let out the worried and startled trill, as all three Black Templars turn to look to him.

"What are you two doing?" Claude asks them flummoxed.

"We are seeing who's better at taking hits to the head," Ramiel explains, "The person who loses is the one who falls off of the stick."

"That sounds like a good way to get a concussion." Claude says with a frown.

"It is!" Cedric says glaring at his fellow Black Templars, "but this is also one of the bonding rituals of the Black Templars."

Claude has some questions and statements that he'd like to ask, but he knows that a lot of his questions or words wound sound highly insulting at best, and they'd likely get offended at his line of questions. But- as he blinks, with sudden clarity and understanding. He now understands Black Templars a Lot Better and why they are Like That. They beat the shit out of each other with Heavy Pans. For Fun. He's heard the rants from Apothecary Type Space Marines about the dangers of Head wounds and concussions, and how, even with the advanced medicines, technology and healing factors, that Concussions are still quite... tricky and long-lasting injuries that could have long term consequences for the person receiving the concussion. Even years later.

He looks towards Cedric, who huffs out, "The Black Templar Apothecaries have tried to get this particular bonding ritual ended, or at least replaced with a less effective thing to beat our brothers with."

"It wouldn't be as fun or as meaningful!" Protests the eldest of the Black Templars.

Cedric's expression soured, while Ramiel almost shrunk in on himself. Claude eyed Ramiel, who'd been nearly dead upon arrival on Ancient Terra. He's mostly recovered, but is so much quieter than he remembers his brother- no, he's a cousin now, being. Then again, Ramiel's had the honor of becoming an Apprentice Chaplain, of which type he doesn't know. He's also noticed how clingy Cedric's been with Ramiel, and how anxious the latter has been around other Black Templars, other First Born Cousins as well.

He's unsurprised that Ramiel's likely had to suffer the wrath and overly critical and harsh reprisal in their Era from their First Born brothers and cousins for being themselves. He heard about the schism that happened in the Black Templars, and heard of how many of the Primaris were being slaughtered for being 'abominations' which they are not. They are good, loyal, obedient, strong, clever, Angels of the Imperium.

He wonders if any of their First Generation of Primaris Marines have had good stories with First Born or not. Except for the time they spent with the Ultramarines, who'd sent them from Mars to their chapter assignments. Then he remembers what Catius had told him of what happened to him before he'd arrived on Terra and a bitter, sour taste floods his tongue and his expression soured.

"I have heard that Catius has found some of his fellow... brothers who were on the same ship as him, back before his arrival on Terra," Claude says.

Catius had stripped his armors of colors, and from his nightmares and what he'd told him, he's going to respect the other's decision. Although, he's curious of what he's going to do next, and which colors he's going to choose. Whether it's is old ones, which he's going to reclaim, or if he's going to choose a different Chapter to paint his armor in. Claude is drawn out of his thoughts by hearing another loud clang and Ramiel starting to flail and falls off of the wooden stick. The older Black Templar roaring in delight that he'd won the bout. While Cedric swims over and checks them both to make sure they haven't done more than superficial damage. Both of them had been wearing their helmets during the 'smack each other in the temple with a heavy pan' 'ritual' and only had minor bruising.

[sleepyfan-blog]

Storm

Author’s Note: Cedric part three! I hope you enjoy :D first. Previous

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @the-pure-angel@whorety-k 

Warnings: panic attack, ask me to tag if something bothers you

Summary: Cedric seeks shelter from a thunderstorm in a cave. 

It was so dark, and so loud!

Cedric could hear winds whipping around the small cave that he’d taken shelter in, when the storm had rolled overhead. He’d been on his way back from an errand for an older cousin, trading some of the sea-found treasures for materials that Brother Leandros had asked for that the humans had when the storm winds had picked up.

He’d managed to find shelter in this wild bit of Ancient Terra, too far from a large enough water source in order to safely take shelter there. He’d moved as deep into the cave as his large body could fit and sat down on the floor, waiting with as much patience as he could muster for the storm to pass.

Yet the winds continued to howl, and when his helmet was off, he couldn’t see much in the utter darkness of the cave. Occasionally he would taste ozone in the air moments before a deafening rumble that sounded uncomfortably close to artillery fire near the entrance of the cave. The sounds caused his hearts to leap into his throat, beating many times faster than their normal rate, the oppressive darkness of the cave felt as though it was pressing in on him on all sides - and the rock that the cave was made out of caused his helmet’s HUD to glitch out in strange ways that did not at all alleviate his distress.

His breathing was fast and shallow - too fast to mean anything good, but the young mer was struggling to remember how to calm himself down, and gave into the urge to curl into himself more, holding onto the bag of things that the Ultramarine lieutenant had asked him to acquire tightly to his chest, rocking back and forth a little. The storm would pass. 

The storm would pass.

Storms never lasted long on Ancient terra. Of that, he had been reassured by older brothers and cousins alike. That for all the ferocity that the weather of this time period had, none of it was warp-empowered. None of them were so devastating as to ruin all of Ancient Terra permanently. 

“Hey… Is someone else in here?” You called out, voice echoing in the cave. You were sure that you heard someone breathing and occasionally whimpering, but hadn’t seen them yet.

“Y… Yes?” A masculine voice called out, shaky and sounding nervous. “I am here…Who are you?”

You didn’t see any lights in the area. Maybe they were enjoying the darkness of the cave? Or maybe the lights in their battery had died. You introduce yourself before continuing “Do you need a light, or are you enjoying the sounds of the thunderstorm overhead in the dark?”

“I… Uhm… Came into this cave seeking shelter. I didn’t come here looking to explore. I did have light for a time, but it’s not working well at the moment and I don’t know why.” The stranger’s voice responded as you turned on your own flashlight so as to avoid going off the marked path in the caves, picking  your way to the source of the voice. “I’m… not enjoying the thunderstorm. The… the noises it makes bother me.”

You wince in sympathy “Yeah, the thunder can be really loud. Especially since I saw lightning strike nearby. Almost blinded me completely for several minutes from the light, though it’s better now. I’m headed to you with a lit flashlight, so if you see a wandering light in the cave, that’s me… Unless there’s anyone else in this cave? What’s your name, stranger? Since I told you mine. Were you also caught out in the summer storm? I’ve been backpacking through the deep woods for weeks.”

“As far as I know, you and I are the only sentient beings in this cave… My name’s Cedric.” He answered. A moment later he continued “I was asked by an older cousin to go trade some things for him, and on my way back to him the storm came.”

“... But there’s no one to trade with for miles?” You muse, a confused expression on your face as you continue to walk further into the cave. You pause, seeing the glint of something metallic and shiny at the back of the cave and pause, trying to get a good look at whatever it is.

Cedric’s voice rings out in the direction of the shiny metal thing as it moves. You see the glitter of white and black scales in the small circle of light your flashlight gives you “Oh, I was coming from further inland.”

You follow the movement with your flashlight, your eyes widening in shock as you see an Astartes - he has silver-blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. You can see freckles across the bridge of his nose and across his cheeks.  He’s squinting down at you, holding a large bag to his chest. “Where are- Oh… There you are…” Your mouth rambles before you could stop yourself.

He’s big, even for an Astartes. He shuffles a little in the spot he’d wedged himself into, looking sheepish “Hello, miss.”

“Hi Cedric.” You respond.  You’d heard stories about merfolk and Astartes in particular. But you’d always lived far inland and hadn’t anticipated on ever seeing one in real life. “You’re… Pretty far inland, I think.”

“Well… My kind can swim through the air as well as we swim in water, we just tend to prefer the water. As I said before, I’d been sent off on a mission to trade for supplies by an older cousin of mine.” The large mer explained, fidgeting with the bag in his hands a little.

“I hadn’t known that. Do you mind some company, while I wait for the storm to stop?” You ask, hoping that the other wouldn’t mind. You’re not sure what you’re going to do if he asks you to leave the cave.

“Not at all! In fact I… The sound of your voice is quite soothing, actually. The sounds of the storm, muffled though they are… were…Bringing back memories best left in the past.” Cedric responded, shivering a little. The less he remembered about The Storm on the world the fortress monastery he’d been trained in and what happened then, the better. You were a lovely distraction for him. “What is Backpacking? I’m not familiar with the term.” He tilts his head in confusion at you, giving the impression of a very large and puzzled puppy.

“That’s very sweet of you to say. Backpacking is-” You explain, walking over to where he was sitting and taking a seat near him, explaining to him about your enjoyment of wild spaces and exploring the wilderness, making sure not to gesture with the hand that held the flash light, not wanting to accidentally flash the light in his eyes. You were surprised at how attentive he listened to you, asking follow up questions and he seemed entirely earnest in his curiosity.

[corvus-the-trickster]

I'm not making another templar Jacob au i swear

[adiduck]

Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: The Saint (1997), Mission: Impossible (Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ethan Hunt/Simon Templar (The Saint), Ethan Hunt & Emma Russell, Emma Russell & Simon Templar Characters: Ethan Hunt, Simon Templar, Emma Russell (The Saint) Additional Tags: Crossover, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Action, Established Relationship, discussion of identity, past Simon/Emma, Discussion of Canon Medical Condition, Emma Does Not Deserve This For Multiple Reasons Summary:

Dr. Emma Russell ends up with a bounty on her head for a bomb she can’t build. Ethan Hunt is assigned to protect her. The man sometimes known as Simon Templar tags along.

And here we are at the end of this one! Thanks for reading, all. Hope you enjoyed! :DDDD

[teecupangel]

I had this dream where an assassin has this slitted smile and when I woke up the first thing I thought was "the slitted mouth assassin???" and I was only thinking if that assassin was a ghost or just had a slitted mouth, so now I wanna know what happens if they had a slitted mouth and it can be any assassin you want I just want slitted mouth assassins scaring the crap out of people

When I read this, my first thought was the urban legend/folklore of the Kuchisake-onna, a woman whose mouth has been slit from ear to ear and would ask people if she was beautiful and if they keep saying yes, she’ll disfigure them the same way, but if they say no, she’ll kill them (usually cut them in half).

Honestly, I vote on Desmond having to deal with this sort of thing as part of “I survived the Solar Flare of 2012 but at what cost?” AU idea. He could also keep wearing a mask (like a face mask or a full on mask) to hide his slit mouth.

Of course, an alternative would be…

The scar-boys (Altaïr, Ezio and Desmond) could be the ones to get slit mouths instead of their canon lip scars.

Now, the common route would be for them to get their slit mouths during the time they got the scar on their lips (like, we’re just exchanging the scar for the slitting) but, if I may suggest an alternative for each:

Altaïr could have gotten his as a punishment for his failure in Jerusalem from Al Mualim himself. It’s a clear show of his failure and Abbas never misses the time to remind Altaïr of that. He’s not allowed to cover it up in Masyaf or in any of the bureaus but he can cover it up (he has to, he’d be easily recognizable if he doesn’t) whenever he’s traveling or performing any tasks and missions for the Brotherhood.

Ezio got his when he accepts Uberto’s invitation to come inside after giving him the documents. He’s grabbed by the guards and maybe Uberto slits his mouth as punishment for being an annoyance and it’s only Rodrigo’s “stop playing around and kill him” orders that made everyone pause long enough for Ezio to get away. He still fails to save his family and his slit mouth is a constant reminder of how he failed his family and how he believed himself to be so stupid to fall for the enemies’ ploys. He hides it most of the time with a fabric of some kind but, when he assassinates people who had a hand in the conspiracy, he pulls the fabric down to show his slit mouth to tell his target how they had created the monster they see in front of them.

And then… there was Desmond…

Who didn’t have a slit mouth…

Until…

One day, during one of Desmond’s few breaks from the Animus, Lucy realized that Desmond hasn’t returned from his ‘walk’ and Rebecca checks the security cameras. They see Desmond just sitting on what used to be Ezio’s room and Shaun makes a snarky comment about how Desmond must have fallen asleep sitting down, or he’s being a spoiled brat that wants someone to get him (Rebecca and Lucy just sigh because they know Shaun doesn’t really believe that, and he’s just being snarky for the sake of being snarky).

So Lucy goes to get him but freezes when he saw the blood coming from the unsheathed hidden blade on Desmond’s left arm.

For a brief moment, flashes of Clay’s death shook Lucy to her very core, making her hands tremble and her skin pale.

Then she called out, “Desmond?”

And Desmond turned to look at her with mouth slit from ear to ear like a mockery of a vicious smile. As blood dripped on the floor, Desmond asked calmly, “Lucy…”

“Do I look like them now?”

[yurnu]

||🔱⚜️ Templar Monster AU ⚜️ 🔱||

Doodles 💖💖💖💖💖

[elavoria]

As a now-belated birthday gift to my beloved little warden Amaryllia, I decided to finally try my hand at erotic art—and I’m so glad I did!

Full explicit 18+ piece here on pillowfort or here on deviantart stash.

[vigilskeep]

the idea that the mage underground stops talking to Anders if he's romanced by a pro templar Hawke makes so much sense and is also so incredibly sad. POV you're Anders and your partner spends all their time talking about how people exactly like you should be locked up, they convince you that you're going crazy, you're constantly questioning whether or not you're imagining or misinterpreting or being overly dramatic about the horrific abuse you and people like you have suffered, the personification of Justice living in your brain is losing it and morphing into something scary inside you because he is denied his purpose of bringing justice to the oppressed and your partner is actively contributing to that

and then to top it all off, your web of contacts working to save literal children from torture and abuse of every kind - seemingly the only people who believe you about how bad it is, probably the only people who don't minimise or brush off the cause you've dedicated your life and soul to - cut you off because the person you love and who claims to love you poses a fundamental risk to the lives, freedoms and minds of the entire organisation

how alienated, how isolated, how utterly, hopelessly lonely Anders must feel in that situation; and in canon it's not like he has a robust support network of people who can tell him that he deserves so, so much better than a Hawke who believes people exactly like Anders should be imprisoned as children for the crime of accidentally being born a mage

[oathkeeperoxas]

A continuation of @adiduck's bakery saintspy May kiss which can be found here, which is set after my fic from a few days ago, which is in turn a continuation of hers from last week.

11 Kiss on the cheek

Bart is no stranger to long nights and less than adequate sleep. Studying, then working double shifts, and then coming to the IMF – he’s used to it. The last week has been pretty nice actually, without any disruptions and a solid seven point six hours every day. Until last night, of course.

The goons have been handed over to the local police, who will hold them for at least two days. Bart is hoping that’s all they’ll need to wrap this one up. He had spent the small hours of the morning sweeping up glass at the Amiens bakery while Ethan “got a statement” from the baker.

Yeah, right.

He’s pretending to casually browse the local weekend market now, exchanging pleasantries with stall owners and digging around for any gossip about their quarry. Naturally, only when it comes up in the conversation of course. The locals here are like any small town, and stick to themselves, so they smile at him and show him their vegetables and honey and home made goods, and keep to themselves when whispering about the turn one of the local boys has taken.

No matter. They’ll find him. It’s only a matter of time.

“Do you think these are any good?” Ethan asks, holding up some oddly shaped and coloured vegetables that Bart thinks might be sweet potatoes.

“Sure?” Bart asks, squinting at him. “Why?”

“I was thinking of cooking tonight,” Ethan says, eyes glued on the produce in front of them, not the people they’re listening in on. It’s probably a good cover to actually buy something, so Bart picks up two onions at random and hands over several euros for them, and a bag of carrots too. Sure. Why not. He gives them to Ethan to carry, straining to listen in on two grandmothers who are sitting behind the stall they’re standing at, knitting away.

“I heard that John saw him yesterday,” one is saying, a bit louder than most gossip is exchanged. Probably losing her hearing a little and not aware of it. “Oh, I hope that boy can steer him right.”

“It’s all gone wrong for him,” the other says, shaking her head. “After his business went bust, he needed to find a good new job.”

“I heard his business was business,” the first woman says, shaking her head. “So when it went out…”

“Ah,” the second says, nodding her head sagely.

“Look, there are some spices over there,” Ethan says, and tugs Bart away.

“Did you hear that?” Bart asks in an undertone, smiling at two children as they run past him. He’s a happy tourist, nothing to see here…

“We already know about his illegal business dealings,” Ethan replies in the same tone of voice, stepping to the side so that a wheelchair can move past him on the path. “You need to trace the trail forward, not backward.”

Bart purses his mouth and keeps listening. It’s all well and good for Ethan to say that, but sometimes you need to know the past in order to make a coherent picture of the present.

“Mon chéri!”

Ethan pauses. Bart takes a slow breath in and resists the urge to sigh. They just finished up at this guy’s place – can’t he disappear for just a day?

“Honoré,” Ethan says, turning with pinpoint accuracy to face Amiens in the crowd.

“Ethan,” Amiens says, his slightly accented French curling affectionately around the name. Great. They’ve moved onto first names now. “What a surprise!” 

“It can’t be more of a surprise to see you,” Ethan returns. “How are you?”

It’s at this point that Bart realises that Amiens is wearing a familiar shirt. A very familiar shirt. It  proclaims I went to Provence and got this awesome shirt! in French, which would be a strange thing for a local to wear, unless… unless…

Bart resists the urge to smack his forehead. Can his team leader be any less subtle? Surely it isn’t a good idea to get this involved with a local? What if he sees something that Ethan can’t explain? Then their cover is blown!

“My grandmother has closed the shop for the day, to ensure everything is clean inside, and because we could not start baking early this morning due to the circumstances,” Amiens is saying as he and Ethan make big eyes at each other.

Yeah, sure, Bart wants to say. The circumstances of you banging my boss!

“And a man has to eat,” Amiens murmurs, leaning into Ethan’s personal space. “Though we may wish to live on what we can swallow, unfortunately it cannot replace food.”

Bart is going to barf. He can’t deal with this. There aren’t even any pastries to get him through it! They’re standing in the middle of the market, in full view of everyone! And they’re not even getting any actionable intel!

“It’s true,” Ethan is nodding sympathetically. “That being said… I know that you are quite busy that the moment, and perhaps don’t have time to make yourself a proper meal. Perhaps I could make you one?”

Bart is hallucinating. Someone slipped him drugs this morning. This cannot be happening.

“Oh,” Amiens says, fluttering his eyelashes. “You don’t have to go to the trouble of all that.”

“I insist,” Ethan says. “Please, let me cook dinner for you tonight.”

Bart makes himself stop listening to this. He can’t do this any more. He stares at the honeyed mead being offered at the table nearest to them, seriously considering buying some to drink his problems away.

“It’s a date,” Amiens agrees, and leans forward to kiss Ethan on the cheek. It’s something that many French people do, but somehow Amiens manages to make it on the edge of indecent. Then he winks at Ethan, and slips away into the crowd.

“What was that?” Bart hisses at him.

“The house on the edge of town,” Ethan says. “We agreed it’s suspicious. You should go and watch it tonight. All night.”

“Sounds good,” Bart agrees fervently.Anything to not have to see that again.

Send me a kiss for saintspy May 😘