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hercleverboy · 6 years

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Paint White Roses Red

masterlist

part one : down the rabbit hole

part three: off with her head

Asylum AU

PAIRING: Jefferson x reader

WARNINGS: Swearing, over all angst, themes of violence.

PART TWO: PAINT WHITE ROSES RED

She’d been sitting in her room, now on the last few chapters of her book, absentmindedly humming to a made up tune when a knock sounded through the room. Before she could answer, it was thrown open, and her guard told her that she was wanted by Nurse Harlow. Y/N knew exactly what that meant. It was a simple concept, Good behaviour would be rewarded and bad would result in punishment, but Y/N couldn’t help but push the mark a little, though she knew the pain she’d have to withstand as a consequence. In all honestly, she did it purposefully, knowing full well of the result. She felt very little these days, mostly letting her mind get away from her. The pain, whilst excruciating, allowed her to at least feel something. She knew where the room was, it was down in the lowest floor of the hospital, though that did nothing to mask the horrifying screams that often came from it. She had to be escorted to the room, because that’s what Harlow demanded it be done. Y/N wasn’t sure why, though she was never really told much anyway. As she waited outside the room with the large white door, she noticed how a musty smell hung in the air of the hollow hallways, and her mind drifted back to the man she’d met earlier that day. Was it so crazy to believe in such a theory? Perhaps, but she’d decided that she’d play along just as an excuse to be able to speak to the man who’d made her laugh, and completely captivated her. She couldn’t help but think that he was impeccably handsome, and the fact that some people thought he was insane wouldn’t change the fact that she’d continue to get to know him. They called her crazy too, so she supposed there wasn’t much difference between them. She’s broken by her thoughts as the large white doors swing open. There, with a twisted smirk on her red painted lips, stands Nurse Harlow.

“Miss Y/L/N. Please, come in.” She steps back to allow Y/N to enter, and Y/N sits in the familiar metal chair that sits in the centre of the room. She knows the procedure by now. She would sit down and Harlow would probably mock her about something or other, attempting to belittle her, though it never really effected Y/N. Then her hands would be cuffed to the chair, and the metal reinforcements would latch onto the sides of her head and she’d be given something to bite down on. The dial controlling the amount of bolts of electricity being sent to her brain would be cranked up, not enough to emit long lasting damage, but enough to cause unimaginable pain. And Harlow would laugh as it happened , watching almost happily as the juice hit Y/N’s brain, her screams filling the air. She must get some kind of sick kick out of it, Y/N thought.

Nurse Harlow looks down at the clipboard in front of her, as other nurses strap Y/N’s hands down. She tuts, shaking her finger at Y/N disapprovingly. “Swearing, again, Y/N? You should know not to use such foul words,” She cackled. “But I suppose, with all those voices trapped in that small head of yours, you just can’t help yourself.”

It was Y/N’s turn to laugh now, as for the first time in a while, she really took in Nurse Harlow’s appearance. She was of a small frame, though her head appeared to be quite out of proportion with her shoulders. Her head was just abnormally large. Her thin, red and wispy hair looked like straw, and a cyan blue colour eyeshadow sat on her eyelids, which had been applied terribly. She giggled, and Nurse Harlow scowled.

“Why are you- what’s so funny?” She demanded, and Y/N took a deep breath from her giggles.

“You— You really are The Queen Of Hearts, aren’t you?” She giggled again, at how she really did resemble the fairy tale character.

“Shut up– Shut up!” The nurse yelled, and Y/N’s laughter slowly died down when a harsh slap sounded through the room, and Y/N could feel her cheek burning from the contact. That was going to leave a mark. “It would appear, Y/N, that you’ve been spending too much time with Jefferson. He was here earlier too, and I suspect he’ll be back soon. If he continues to spit such ridiculous theories..” She trails off, and Y/N sneered at her. “Dear Y/N, It would seem his theories have corrupted you.” The Nurse snarled, waving for her assistant to come. The assistant places something for Y/N to bite down on in her mouth as the metal clamped around her skull. And then the juice started flowing.

Stumbling down the hallway, she’s guided by a rough hand on her arm that pulls her around each winding corner. Her guard allows her to steady herself against him as he speaks. “Would you like to go down to the free time room, Y/N?” His voice gets lost amongst others inside her head, though she manages to nod her head and allows him to drag her faint and hazy body through to the large room. He places her down onto the chair and leaves her to her own mind.

‘What’re you doing Y/N? Hurting yourself just to feel something? You’re psychotic.’

“No, no. I’m fine.” She grips her hair in her hands, holding her head.

‘Perhaps that’s why you’ll believe that madman’s ramblings. So you’ll find an excuse for your pathetic existence-?’

‘And developing silly feelings for him? Do you believe he could ever want you?”

“Please. No more.” She whispers to herself, lost inside her own head. She calms herself down eventually, and the voices get drowned out, leaving as well. She looks up from her seat, to see the hatter himself sitting in the chair he’d now deemed as his, across from her.

“Does that happen a lot?” He asks, as he twiddles his thumbs.

“What?” She asks, her once erratic breathing finally returning to a normal pace.

“The voices. What do they say?” He seems genuinely interested, and she finds it odd, though she replies hesitantly.

“It’s mostly just self-degrading thoughts. They tell me what I don’t want to hear.” She mumbled, leaning back in her chair, resting her heavy head on her hand. He opens his mouth to speak, but she decided to change the subject. “So tell me, Hatter. How’ve you been?”

“Well, Dear Alice,” He sounds sarcastic, though serious when he refers to Y/N as Alice. “I’ve figured out something else.” He smirks, and Y/N raises a an eyebrow.

“Oh? Do tell.” She asks, giggling a little, once again intrigued. Without looking, he points a sturdy finger to the left of him, and Y/N follows it, and finds herself looking at a young boy. He must only be around the age of 15, sitting alone, facing the wall. There’s nothing distinctly wrong with him, nothing that she could instantly pinpoint. As she’s about to ask why Jefferson pointed towards him, the kid turns around, and that’s when Y/N eyes land on his face. A bloody smile has been carved into his cheeks, from the corner of his lips to his ear, leaving the flesh rather jagged as it attempted to heal itself. She wasn’t shocked, there were many people who came here with problems of self mutilation. She looked back at Jefferson, and urged him to continue.

“The kids name is Tom. Really freaky guy, and that’s coming from me.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “He’s supposed to of done that to himself before murdering his mother and sister in cold blood. They caught him, and sent him straight here.” His eyes lock on Y/N’s, and his tongue darts out to wet his dry lips. “But D’ya wanna know who he really is, Doll?”

She smirked, recognising that he wanted her to answer. “With a smile like that? I’d bet he’s the Cheshire Cat. Does he speak in riddles too?” Her tone was slightly mocking, though knew how serious it was to him.

“Don’t mock me, Dear.” He smirked too, his signature look, “But yes, he is The Cheshire Cat indeed. You’re getting rather good at this.”

“Yeah, Well.” She tilted her head to the side as she spoke the next question. “Did you get called to visit Harlow today?”

He nodded, his demeanour suddenly changing. “I really hate that woman, with a passion. The Queen was always cruel, but I never—“ He stopped mid sentence as he noticed the angry red mark on her cheek, that he really hadn’t noticed until now. He reached forward in his seat, his fingertips gently touching the marks. “She— She hurt you?”

Y/N nodded, and watched as his teeth clenched.

“How dare she lay her hands on you. I’ll fucking kill her, I swear I’ll-“ He seethed, but was cut off by Y/N placing her own hand over his. He was very protective over her, perhaps because of how he believed she was his Alice.

“I’m fine, Jefferson. Really.” She held his hand comfortingly, and he nodded, though he was still furious.

“I know, love. I’m sorry. It’s just you’re mine— my Alice— and I can’t let anything hurt you.”

Over the next few weeks, Y/N and Jefferson became practically inseparable. Whenever he got the chance, he’d sit with his beautiful Alice and speak with her, ask her how she was. Every free-time they had resulted in fits of laughter and loving touches. She had undoubtedly fallen in love with him, and he with her, though he’d repeatedly claim that she —Alice — had loved him all those years ago when they’d been back in Wonderland together. And though Y/N didn’t remember the life he claimed they’d lived together, she merely thought of it as a privilege. She felt privileged to have been able to fall in love with him all over again. The pair loved each other as much as they could in the hospital where if they got too hand-sy for the guards liking, they’d be separated for the day. Sometimes, Jefferson would manage to escape from his room, running up the staircase to her room, where she’d be able to hear him calling for her outside as he was dragged away again, yelling that he loved her as she giggled. He’d do it a thousand times and face Nurse Harlow’s punishments if it meant he could hear her melodic laugh. The pair where a nuisance to the hospital staff, to put it simply.

One evening, they sat in the free time room, Y/N laughing at some silly joke Jefferson had made, holding one another’s hands. That’s as much as the pair where allowed to touch, though that never stopped Jefferson from attempting to steal a kiss before being pulled away by the staff, unhappy that he still hadn’t kissed you. He promised himself he would one day.

“Jefferson?” Y/N asked, and he looked at her.

“Yes, Doll?”

“Can you tell me about our lives together, before the uh— the curse?” She sounded silly, she knew she did. But to him, oh, to him it meant the world. It meant everything that she wanted to know of their lives together.

And so he explained. How she’d fallen down the rabbit hole into Wonderland. Confused and scared, he’d offered to help her, just a lonely Hatter looking for company. He told of how he’d fallen in love with her. How she returned his feelings, and decided that she’d stay in Wonderland with him. He’d usually be elsewhere during the day, tailoring clothes for others to pass his time whilst you awaited his return.

“And one day, well, one day you weren’t there when I came back.” He sighed. “I searched everywhere for you, I—I thought you’d left me.” He looked down, away from Y/N.

“What happened?” She asked, her voice small.

“Someone from the village told me That they’d caught word that you’d lost your way in the forest and had ended up in the Queens castle gardens. Her men had caught you, brought you to her, but you’d managed to escape.” He looked up, an almost proud smile on his face as She laughed, moving onto her next question

“And Why do you always wear that scarf around your neck?” She asked, suddenly finding that she’d never actually seen him without it. She’d seen him without his hat a handful of times, though he was extremely protective of it, but never without his scarf.

He seemed hesitant, though he supposed she’d see why eventually. Letting go of her hand, he unwrapped the scarf from his neck, letting it fall onto his lap with a smile.

She didn’t react how he’d expected her to. She hadn’t yelped and backed away, nor had she called him hideous and left him. Instead, She reached her hand up to gently trace the scar that wrapped itself around his neck.

“Where’s this from?” She asked, eyes searching his.

“The Queen Herself. Cut off my head back in Wonderland.” He said quietly, staring off into the distance, seemingly in a sort of trance. “She wanted information on you, To know your background and all I knew about you after you’d escaped her men, when you painted the white roses in her garden red, Alice. And I couldn’t— I wouldn’t — I would never put you in harms way,” he looked at Y/N, and tears began to form at the edge of his eyes.

“Hey, Hey. Jefferson. It’s okay. We’re okay.” She attempts to console him, but her attempts fail, and he stands up, beginning to nervously pace the area that their two chairs sat in. He was mumbling the same words over and over again, though they were so quiet, Y/N couldn’t comprehend them.

He giggled, which soon turned into almost animalistic laughter, as he doubled over, howling in his chuckles. This caught the attention of the guards in the room, who moved to restrain him. He thrashed around in their arms, absolutely erratic, attempting to leave their harsh grasp, still cackling as he looked at Y/N. Though Y/N wasn’t afraid, and she watched, rather amused by his outburst. One of the guards stabbed a needle into Jefferson’s arm, and as the sedatives began kicking in, he heaved one last chuckle, and spoke once more. This time, Y/N heard it loud and clear. The same sentence, repeated, over and over.

“Off with his head.”

#jefferson x reader #jefferson ouat #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #once upon a time #asylum #alternate universe #story #fanfic

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morsmordrehasbeensaved · 7 years

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♔ MY MOUTH TASTES LIKE BLOOD, YET I REMAIN TENDER ♔

✤ Frank Longbottom. ✤ Hufflepuff / Seventh Year. ✤ Pureblood. ✤ Order of the Phoenix. ✤ Open character.

So many times the world has tried to steer you towards a darker path; when you were shunned by your peers for being from a blood traitor family, when they called you every name in the book, when they killed your father right in front of you. But it was never a choice for you. Without hesitation, without a doubt, you’ve always chosen the light. You take their words in stride, and you honor your fathers’ death, but most of all, you’ve become a beacon for all those who’ve lost hope. You show them that there’s always something left.

BIOGRAPHY.

Arranged marriage was simply the way that things were done. Pureblood society was steeped in centuries of tradition, the Longbottom’s stout upholders of a long and proud lineage. It seemed only natural for a union to be formed between the Longbottom and Bulstrode families regardless of whether or not Uziah Longbottom had slipped a fanged gerbil in Augusta Bulstrode’s reticule and she had since loathed the ground he walked on. So far as they figured love was never something that would spark between them. Their duty was to the continuation of their family lines and the sooner they got to it the sooner they would be able to relatively ignore the existence of the other and pursue whatever brought about their happiness. Begrudgingly, they set to the task and were delighted when not even six months into their marriage learned that they were expecting.

Augusta went through the majority of her pregnancy on her own while Uziah advanced his career. For the first time in the history of them knowing one another she found that she was in agreement with the policies he was setting in place. Uziah had started his career as an auror, fighting his family that he would stick to the arrangement of marrying Augusta but only if they would allow him to achieve this goal first. Throughout the program he had excelled, which was perhaps why it came as such a surprise that when he was finally sent out into the field he made his decision to leave the department. Learning about the horrors of the world was one thing but to see them himself was a complete other. While the auror department wasn’t a great fit for him the department of magical law still was. A fire had risen in his breast and he strove against injustice. His primary stomping ground becoming advocacy and protection of muggleborn witches and wizards as well as promoting ministry programs that would help ease the transition into wizarding society for students and their families. This, of course, set many pureblood families against him and dragged his wife down right alongside him.

Peace slowly rose between the pair. Uziah made time for her and they learned to laugh together. Neither of them would call it love but it was starting to look a little bit like friendship. They still bickered all the time, but how could they not? Augusta was certainly not ready to forget the reason why she was forced to carry around a mouse trap in her purse and was still incredibly weary every time she encountered a fanged gerbil and Uziah was unable to forget that he had done it because she had been such a pretentious, know-it-all harpy when they were children. Though they didn’t love one another, they did love their son. Together they shielded him from the pureblooded society that had turned their backs on them. Frank was a strong and noble boy, if maybe a bit quiet. He perceived the world differently than the both of them, seeking to highlight and bolster everything that was good in the world rather than merely trample over the bad. For a time, they were happy. And then the threats started rolling in.

It had taken him years of work, but finally the program that Mr. Longbottom had started working on was actually being considered by wizarding society and even looked as if it might be put into effect. Pureblood society had already turned their backs on the Longbottom’s at the proposition of the idea, so it came as no surprise when they were met with stiff opposition. What they hadn’t expected was piles of hate mail targeted not only at Uziah but at Augusta and Frank as well. Hate mail quickly became threatening. Threats eventually became a murder attempt. A murder attempt that succeeded.

His mother had gone out for the day, leaving father and son completely alone. Frank had been excited. It was rare that the two of them were on their own but when they were it provided them with opportunity to be a bit more rambunctious than Augusta allowed them to be. Together they slid down the banisters and zipped around the house on their brooms laughing until their stomachs hurt. Father and son settled in for lunch when they heard the creaking of floorboards. Both were immediately alerted to the presence of someone in there home. Young Frank assumed it was his mother and being the helpful lad that he was he had sprung from his place on the couch to go find her and ask if she needed help sorting her purchases. Fear overcame him when he found himself face to face with a stranger, wand tip pressed into the delicate flesh of his throat.

During court proceedings he recounted how his father had raced into the room after hearing the blood-curdling screams emitted from a boy who had been brave enough to try and fight off his kidnapper and who in turn had been hit with the cruciatus curse. He told them how he had laid there prone on the floor while his father dueled his attacker. The hardest thing to tell them was how his mother had wept over him, cradling him to her chest when she found the two of them and thought she had lost him too.

It was the darkest time of his young life. Augusta did what she could to make him happy, but the investigation and trial was a drawn out process and every day that passed without justice wore on Frank. The first time he stepped foot into Florian Fortescue’s ice cream shop it had been to humor his mother. He was a child, of course he should enjoy the sugary treat. Alice had been the last thing he had expected. That first time he just watched, entranced by the way she spoke to the customers and brought a tiny bit of light into their world. When provided the opportunity to go again he decided to actually try to speak with her. Back then he hadn’t suspected it to be one of the greatest decisions of his life. To him, she was like a tiny little sun. She didn’t take away all of his darkness but she kept him from being completely enveloped by shadows.

Trial came to an end on the same day he received his Hogwarts letter. Frank had been so caught up in everything that was going on around him that he had completely forgotten how excited he used to be about starting school. Alice, of course, was his very first friend. It didn’t take long before both of them made more. They promised one another that no matter how many friends they made they would stay by one another’s side and they have always stuck to that making sure that at every given opportunity they are paired together for class assignments. His second friend was a muggle born boy named Ted Tonks. The two of them were both sorted into the same house and shared a dormitory. Ted brought out the good in Frank and like Alice started brightening the dark corners of his mind. It was Ted that introduced him to Edgar Bones. From that day forward the three of them have been practically brothers.

After everything that he has been through Frank has learned the importance of little moments. Perhaps that was what enraptured him with the idea of being able to capture them. He had hated the flashing lights and sounds that cameras had made while he was going through the trial but as time went on he began to prize those photographs. Reporters had dug up old photos of his father and they helped keep his memory from fading. The sound of his voice faded little by little, but at least he always had these. Photography went from a passing interest to a major passion and now he captures every moment that he can, savoring the happy memories and learning from the bad. Through the turmoil of the world developing as it is around them it has managed to keep him focused on his ultimate goal to carry on his father’s work and make his mother proud.

CONNECTIONS.

ALICE FORTESCUE ━ Doesn’t want to ruin their friendship by admitting his crush on her. EDGAR BONES & EDWARD ‘TED’ TONKS ━ Best friends. LOGAN WILKES ━ Grew up with, often gets in fights with now.

THIS CHARACTER’S FACECLAIM IS CHAY SUEDE (NEGOTIABLE).

#hp roleplay #harry potter rp #marauders rp #marauders era rp #frank longbottom #hufflepuff #m #taken #tm

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thekuroiookami · 7 years

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(Haikyuu) The Cat’s Smile and the Girl’s Tears (Kuroo x Reader) - Part 3

You dragged yourself into the station the next day, your endurance stretched to its limits. You sank into the chair at your chaotic desk with a sigh and closed your eyes. A second later, an enticing cinnamon aroma filled the air. You opened one eye to the glorious sight of a coffee cup.

“You look like you got run over by a train. Slowly. Twice.” Iwaizumi didn’t sound at all sympathetic, but then he never did.

“Morning to you too, Hajime.” You took a long sip of the dark liquid and nearly moaned in relief. “I’ll forgive you for pointing out how terrible I look since you brought the elixir of life.”

He perched on the edge of your desk and folded his arms. “You’re welcome. How are you feeling after…?”

Your jaw clenched at the reference to the abrupt dissolution of your engagement. There was no point hiding anything from him, he’d known you for years now. You looked up into his face, locking your stare with his steady gaze. “I still want to gently change the shape of his face, if that’s what you mean.”

He glowered, barely restraining his own violent tendencies. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

You swirled the dregs of the coffee, contemplating the wreck that your life had become. “I’m managing. That’s all I can do. If I sit down and think about it, I’ll cry my heart out and it won’t help anyone. Maybe if we solve this case soon, I can use your shoulder as a prop for my dejected self.”

Iwaizumi regarded you for a heartbeat longer. He patted your arm and spoke gruffly. “I won’t let you use me as a mop, but I can always drag Oikawa out for you instead.”

You gave your partner a tired yet grateful smile. “You’re a pillar of support, my friend.”

Whatever sardonic reply he was going to make was cut off as a someone approached, his slim frame vibrating with nervous energy. You and Iwaizumi stared, baffled, as the young man executed a perfect salute, sending his mop of shiny black hair flying. “Officer Kageyama Tobio, reporting for duty!”

Realization dawned. “Oh. You’re the new rookie they assigned to us.” You took in his sharp blue eyes, wide with hope. “At ease, soldier. Whose nerves did you get on to get this as your first assignment?”

“Are you sure it isn’t a punishment for us?” Iwaizumi muttered under his breath. You elbowed him in the ribs.

“I- erm- I’m not sure what you mean, Sergeant.” Kageyama blinked in confusion.

You tilted your head back in brief prayer. “Sorry, Kageyama-kun, we’re just…Never mind. This is Iwaizumi Hajime, he’s a fairly nice guy, just don’t let him goad you into a drinking competition. I’m ____.”

Your partner jabbed a thumb at you. “She’s not a fully functioning human being in the morning, but don’t worry. She doesn’t actually eat people.”

You rolled your eyes. “One cup of coffee does not give you diplomatic immunity, Hajime.”

Kageyama’s eyes jumped back and forth between you both, unsure what to make of this. You took pity on him and smiled. “What do you know about the case- well cases – that we’re investigating?”

He pursed his lips. “Only the bare minimum, Sergeant. Six women have been found dead, different C.O.Ds each time, each ten days apart. The only link between the murders is that they all had playing cards with the word Alice written on them, found at the scene. Oh, and all the victims were dressed up as Alice from the books.”

Iwaizumi tapped a yellow binder. “The first victim was Sasaki Megumi. A restaurant owner in her late 20s. She went missing after a party. They found her a couple of days later when a couple was walking through the woods.”

You slid out a photo from the file. “More precisely, the woman in the pair looked up when she felt something drip onto her face. Sasaki had been torn apart and scattered everywhere.”

Kageyama’s face went pale at the sight of a head impaled on a branch, mouth wide in an eternal scream. To his credit, he didn’t look away. “Is that a playing card in her mouth?”

“Yes, the Jack of Spades. Sasaki seems to be the only one without the Alice costume.” You turned thoughtful. “Taken together with the frenzied mode of killing, it makes me think it was a crime of passion. The perpetrator was likely in a fit of rage.”

Iwaizumi picked up the thread and continued, expression grim. “The next one was Kai Sakura, a university student. Similar levels of brutality, but there’s evidence of pre-meditation. Her parents had the whole town looking for her for days. Then they found her in a shallow grave, heavily mutilated.”

Kageyama’s jaw clenched at the next photo. “There’s- there’s a crown. Stitched onto her head.”

You felt the darkness creeping back around the edges of your vision. The pain and terror frozen into her rag-doll face haunted your waking moments relentlessly. Your hand tightened around the paper cup. “It might have something to do with the Queen of Clubs card she had. Anyway, the killer is clearly getting cocky now. That’s why he made a slip.”

The rookie cop bent over to look at the grainy video footage Iwaizumi pulled up. “Where is this from?”

“The third victim’s apartment. Yamane Akemi was a part-time singer in a band. Sang at a small bar in the evenings. Worked at the local konbini during day. Had a sweet, soft-spoken personality by all accounts.” You put a soothing hand on his shoulder as Iwaizumi’s voice became rough. “In a show of real arrogance, the killer abducted her from her apartment, ripped her throat out and left her body slumped on a table for the bar-owner to find. She had a Diamond King in her hand. Turns out being that ballsy was a bad idea, because a surveillance camera caught him leaving the apartment, though his face is hidden.”

Kageyama swallowed, fear turning his eyes glassy. “A-and the next one?”

“The next two,” you corrected gently, “were twins. Oshiro Hina and Hana. They ran a law firm together. C.O.D was poisoning – we found a bottle saying “Drink Me” and a cake with “Eat Me” iced on it. Probably the least violent of the killings, if you can say that about murder. They had half of a card each, the Ace of Hearts.”

“The one we found four days ago,” sighed Iwaizumi, “was Ueda Yukiko, a thirty-something nurse. Her co-worker became worried when she didn’t show up to work. When the neighbourhood police got into her apartment, her five-year old son was sitting by the bathtub, scared to death. Her body was floating in the water, and her hands had been cut off. Her card was a Two of Spades.”

Kageyama flinched a little when he looked into your face. He didn’t know how far the horrors went, how utterly bleak your soul had become over the last two months. You had to push down the memory of a child who might never speak again. It wouldn’t help him to linger on your own feelings. You came back to reality to hear the end of Iwaizumi’s sentence.

“…and there’s no apparent connection between the victims.”

“As of now, that’s not true.” Both of them focused their unyielding attention on you. “I found out something yesterday.”

When you finished summarizing the events of the previous evening, Kageyama rested his chin on his hand, thinking. You had to resist the overwhelming urge to pat his head. He was so young and unblemished. He piped up, oblivious to your thoughts. “So the club calls all its special guests Alice?”

You nodded. “Presumably the suspect has regular access to the club and the underground areas.”

Iwaizumi was pacing next to the board now, deep in his own conclusions. You saw the beginnings of a familiar resolve building on his face as he spoke. “So how does that fit into the order of the killings? The murderer started off with a lot of rage, probably had no plans to kill the first victim. Then they realized they could do it again, get away with it. So the second one is showy, a taunt. Then…”

The younger male caught on to your partner’s line of thought and straightened. “And then they’re all in cold blood because he just likes killing for the sake of it now.”

You placed a palm on a photo, feeling a crimson thread binding you to the sorrowfully still girl in the picture. “They’re punishments,” you intoned quietly. “For defying his wishes. Whatever they are.”

There’s a moment of silence before Iwaizumi turned to Kageyama. “We can talk about this on the way to the lab. There’s someone you need to meet.”

The lone figure hunched over the table in the forensics room didn’t look up when you entered. “I’m busy, go away.”

“We brought a fresh recruit, Semi.” You tilted your head in amusement. “If you would take your eyes from the microscope for a second, you can register him and go back to brooding.”

Your favourite analyst scowled and pushed back his glasses onto his head, making his silvery hair stand up in tufts. “I’m not brooding. If you had any gratitude at all, you’d leave me alone to the mountain of work they’ve left me with.” He didn’t wait for your reply before looking poor Kageyama up and down once. “Okay, registered. Now disappear.”

You settled your hip against the table and smiled pleasantly. “I love you too, Semi. Have you got any news for me?”

He gave you a flat look of displeasure and pulled a sheet from a teetering stack of papers. “The autopsy results are out. Ueda Yukiko died from asphyxiation by drowning. No big surprise there.”

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. “And?”

Semi sighed and pulled another sheet from the perilously stacked tower. You saw Kageyama eye the wobbling paper structure with trepidation. “The analysis finally came back on the poison used in the twins’ food.” He bit his lip. “It’s tetrodotoxin. A neurotoxin commonly found in poisonous marine animals.”

You and Iwaizumi straightened in attention. You leaned closer to Semi. “That would be hard to procure, wouldn’t it?”

The analyst twirled a pen in consideration. “Yeah, I’d say so. It’s not usually synthesized artificially either, so you can’t just buy it. It’s worth looking into the source.”

“I can do it.” Iwaizumi’s eyes slid to the junior officer as Kageyama held his hand up. “I can try to trace the poison.”

Semi nodded like that solved everything. “There you go, the new kid is offering to do it for you. Now can I please get back to this fingerprint sample?”

You nudged his shoulder. “You sure you don’t want to join us for lunch, snow queen?”

“And spend half an hour in interminable agony? No thanks.”

Iwaizumi shook his head as you left the lab, muttering something about cicadas and people with no lives. Kageyama shook his head fervently when you repeated your question about lunch, saying he had something to look up, and ran off. You stepped outside with Iwaizumi, turning left to take the path to your usual izakaya, when an arm suddenly slung itself around your shoulder.

“___-chan, were you and Iwa-chan going to abandon me and go to lunch? How mean.”

You gave Oikawa a long-suffering look. “Abandonment implies we have a choice, which hasn’t been the case since college.”

Iwaizumi bumped fists with you. “For once we agree on something.”

Oikawa’s head drooped to rest on your shoulder. You ruffled his glossy hair affectionately. “How’s life in the limelight treating you, Tooru?”

“Same old, same old. Being a celebrity news anchor does have its downsides, you know.”

You looped your arm through his and dragged him forward. “Like what? All the people in love with you?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “When they follow you around and invade your privacy, yes.”

Iwaizumi’s mouth curled down unhappily. “Is someone bothering you?”

Your other best friend smiled, eerily reminding you of a cat that caught the canary. “Why Iwa-chan, are you feeling protective of me?”

“Yeah,” replied Iwaizumi simply. “I am. Wouldn’t anyone be?” There was long silence in which Oikawa watched Iwaizumi with a strained expression. You stopped and looked up at the izakaya’s name emblazoned in red.

“Tooru, you’re paying this time.” The tension dissipated as Oikawa gave you a betrayed look.

“But why? You’re punishing me for something I didn’t even do,” he said with a pout.

“You’re paid more than me and Hajime combined,” you pointed out. “I think you can afford to treat us to some ramen without breaking the bank.” Iwaizumi nodded solemnly.

He threw his hands up in surrender. “Fine. You first, ___-chan,” he said, holding the curtains to the entrance open. Oikawa made a grand flourish. “Age before beauty, remember?”

You made sure to step hard on his foot as you walked in. He yelped and followed you to a quiet table in the corner, scowling at you the whole way. Iwaizumi was shaking his head at your collective antics when the server came to take your orders. You noted with amusement the glazed adoration on her face as Oikawa gave her a dazzling smile.

“So,” you said to Iwaizumi when you were alone again, “how should we go about dealing with this?”

Oikawa sipped from a glass of water, dark eyes watchful. “Have you made any progress with the Alice killer?”

You told him what you’d learned at the club. “I think I’ll have to go back there and question them all,” you finished. “There’s a lot more under the surface than they’re letting on.”

“The whole thing seems extremely shady to me,” growled Iwaizumi. “I’m going with you.”

You wondered how to go about this gently. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. I have feeling their trust is fragile, and anything could break it. I need you to look up their files instead so we can corroborate their stories later. It’s time consuming, but Kageyama-kun can help.”

Green eyes locked with yours in a battle of wills as Iwaizumi made his disapproval known. You gazed back until he looked away with a sigh. “Be careful. This perp has no boundaries, no rules. You could be targeted.”

Oikawa gave you a pleasant smile. “I could accompany you, if you like. This club sounds very interesting.”

Before you could say it, Iwaizumi shook his head. “No, definitely not. It’s bad enough that she wants to waltz in there without protection, but taking you along? That’s not happening.”

Oikawa’s face was set in stubborn resolve. He lifted his chin. “I can take care of myself, Iwa-chan. ‘Sides, the killer only targets women.”

That seemed to make the other male falter. His face turned grim again. “I still say no. There’s no guarantee the murderer will continue to follow this pattern, and you might not be able to follow ___ to the underground floor. It’s unsafe for a host of reasons.”

You watched in fascination as Oikawa turned predatory. “Iwa-chan,” he said, lips curling upwards, “are you really just worried for me?”

Iwaizumi frowned, setting his glass down with a tap. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean,” Oikawa intoned, voice husky, “you’re coming up with a bunch of flimsy reasons for me not to visit a club. As if I haven’t been to a million of them. Is there something in particular about this one that bothers you? Like the fact that there’s a collection of attractive, intriguing people?”

You bit your cheek as you saw Iwaizumi’s knuckles turn white. “Are you saying,” he gritted out, “that I’m jealous?”

There was a rustle as Oikawa leaned forward, his gaze fixed on Iwaizumi’s. “I don’t know. Are you?”

It was lightning-fast, but you caught it as Iwaizumi’s eyes dropped to Oikawa’s mouth. Judging from the way his shoulders stiffened, Tooru knew it too. Your partner parted his lips to speak. “I-“

A shrill ring drove a spike into the strange moment building at the table. You finally breathed again as Iwaizumi left to take the call, your chest easing out of a tightness you didn’t know you felt. Oikawa just stared at the table with a dark expression, his frame rigid with tension. You sighed.

“Tooru, when are you both going to stop dancing around each other and just say it?” You had lost track of the number of times they came close to the edge of that precipice.

He didn’t look at you. “I can’t risk it, ___-chan. You and Iwa-chan are the only people I have left.” His voice was quiet, broken. “I just can’t.”

You put your hand over his, feeling his pain like your own. “I’m not going to interfere, but…this isn’t going to last forever.”

He didn’t say anything when you and Iwaizumi left for the station. Your partner’s face had turned into a granite mask, and you knew better than to prod him for answers. After spending a while collecting files to take with you, it was time to leave, so you waved at Iwaizumi. He nodded back briskly. “Be safe, ___.”

Twenty minutes later you found yourself staring at a door, powder blue this time, and wondering what awaited you behind its polished surface. There was only one way to find out. You inhaled for calm, turned the knob and walked in.

A shirtless Kuroo greeted you with an inscrutable smile. You swallowed at the sight of gloriously dusky skin, marble-like musculature and that sinful hair over one eye. “Detective. I see you’ve found the Pool of Tears.”

#haikyuu!!#fanfic #kuroo x reader #alice in wonderland #murder mystery #female reader #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #kageyama tobio #semi eita #friendship #pining #denial is a thing

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