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profeyandere · 11 months

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𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐙𝐋𝐎 𝐊. ─── ☾ 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃

Masterlist || Daniel Brühl Masterlist || Wattpad

Word Count: 2k

Pairing: Laszlo Kreizler x Fem!Reader

Warning: Angst, panic attack, murders

English is not my native language, so I apologize for any mistake and if you can help me improve it, I will greatly appreciate it. I hope you enjoy it :D

That little building in New York no longer felt like the warm, sweet home he loved so much. Now, everything around him had been covered in a dark thick icy mist that had appeared once he had made sure that you were gone. He didn't expect to be able to blame you for it, either.

Laszlo, no matter how hard he tried to search his innermost thoughts, could not remember having felt such sharp and persistent pain in his life until he finally found the courage to return home and face the situation in which he had found himself. He had become immersed because he was unable to keep his mouth shut and the comments at bay, finding that tragic December night a home that was no longer what he had left that same morning. In the depths of his heart he hoped to see you in the living room, sitting in his armchair or on the soft sofa that characterized the room, with one of his many blankets in your lap while you tried to calm your usual nerves about meeting him again or doing one of the many activities you planned for the afternoons, perhaps reading one of the various astronomy books in which you had shown special interest in recent months with a cup of chamomile to soothe your headaches or trying to finish knitting the dark wool gloves for him with the excuse that even if you didn't like that activity, you wanted him to stay warm enough during the harsh winter that was lashing New York while investigating the latest case he had been involved in, even if he knew that your disgust for the last mentioned activity was a little lie that you had developed over the years and that he had discovered by having seen you smile on more than one occasion while you practiced with Mary a new type of stitch; you always showed a particular distaste for activities that were characteristic of women, but he had learned to observe that you were actually quite content with them and that you could come to appreciate them even if you claimed otherwise.

But now that he had returned home, he felt an emptiness in him, not hearing your playful laugh resonate because of some joke that Stevie had told you, nor could he distinguish your quick and agile steps becoming louder and closer that indicated that you had heard him home, much less was he able to feel the warmth that enveloped his home when you were in it. He noticed the lack of your presence, and it was not necessary to be very intelligent or have a university degree to make sure of it because he only had to analyze himself to realize it; Anguish had been the feeling that had taken over his body, then eliminating the anger that had been controlling him for much of the day.

Laszlo hadn't wanted you to get involved in the case of the missing children, the same ones that days later turned up murdered wherever the maniac who ended their lives wanted to show them. He assumed from the beginning that the scenarios in which he would be involved would be dangerous, after all, they were looking for a murderer, and he knew that the places they would visit would be quite unpleasant judging by what John Moore, his dear friend, had previously described. He just wanted to keep you safe, in the comfort of his home, while he and the small team he had assembled took it upon themselves to put an end to the wave of murders that was causing so much fear in the inhabitants of the splendid American city.

All he did was try to keep you away from the monsters beyond the gates of his home, but he didn't make sure that the most horrible being you had at your side. You had him, and he wasn't able to protect you then.

Tension, nerves, and anxiety had taken over his body, being felt that he was unable to control for not finding a solution to the case on which he was working so hard. He felt devastated for not finding a solution to such a problem, being forced to constantly search and review the same psychology books that he had read so many times and that, on this occasion, were not providing him with the required help. Barely a few days had passed since the death of the first young people belonging to rather unfortunate families was announced, but the desire to end it became more palpable as the hours passed; The only thing the doctor wanted was to end the case with a happy ending, return home as he usually did and hug you, thus eliminating the intrusive thoughts that crowded his mind and that prevented him on many occasions from resting as it should. You, being aware of the latter, had decided to visit Laszlo at his usual place of work to check his state of health.

He would have appreciated your visit on other occasions, he would have felt a familiar tingle once he had seen you open the door of his office to greet him with your loving smile, and he would have watched your bright eyes that would light up more and more as the seconds passed, and you watched him, but at that moment all he saw in you was a distraction he didn't want to deal with; he didn't want to be with you at that moment, and he wanted you to leave as soon as possible. You greeted him excitedly, asking about his day, and soon after you started talking about how worried you were that he was so deep in the case that he wasn't even taking care of himself, which you assumed all along and which is why you asked John and Sarah to take care of him while you weren't around; Although your innocence, concern, and dedication to the doctor could be seen as a blessing in most cases, he just wanted you to shut up at that moment, turn around and go home, he just wanted you to understand what his cold look wanted to tell you, but it was not like that.

You didn't understand him, or you didn't want to, and Laszlo took it out on you.

You saw his shoulders tense as you approached him and his desk, this time lowering your tone of voice as you presumed that a new wave of emotional headaches was at work again in his head. You sighed softly and walked around his desk, positioning yourself on one side of him with the intention of easing that pain by massaging his temples. It was when you finally placed one of your delicate hands on top of his, gently stroking the knuckles of his left hand to calm him down and show your support, that you finally saw how the beast he seemed to have kept hidden finally came out to unleash its full wrath on you. He quickly withdrew his hand from yours, surprising you with the movement and causing you to take a step back to give him some space, then raised your head to meet his gaze with yours, his being the one that flashed with feelings of anger and rage that ran through his body and that was impossible to control. He raised his voice at you in a way you didn't expect, ordering you to get out of his office, leaving you completely shocked by what had just happened and by what you had heard. You tried to refute what he had just told you, asking and begging him to let you stay and letting him know that you wouldn't speak anymore if he required it, but then he started to hurt you with the words that you would have least imagined. You had always had certain limitations in learning, you always recognized that obvious fact, and many times you doubted that your intelligence was the same as that of an average person your age, you had even felt bad enough on several occasions to question yourself if it was enough for Laszlo for that small impairment, but it was his words of encouragement, full of affection and always sincere that made those intrusive thoughts disappear, but now he brought out that insecurity to make you see that perhaps your assumptions were correct; He pointed out how stupid you looked around him and how you tried to keep people from seeing that big flaw of yours through the kindness you showed, trying to make witty comments but only making others laugh at how silly you seemed and that The fact that people were so sweet to you was because they found you as silly as a 3-year-old.

In short: Laszlo confirmed your biggest fear.

From the moment the doctor began to bring up that insecurity, placing special emphasis on what others thought of you, you felt how you stopped hearing from one moment to the next. You could perfectly see your fiancé open and close his mouth, and move his hands to express himself more freely, but it was impossible for you to understand what he was saying due to the feeling of sadness and anxiety that had begun to devastate you. You had heard of anxiety attacks, Laszlo had explained them to you after you had had to calm down one of the many children at school who had sought refuge in you the first time he attended the doctor's therapy, and, now if you were suffering it in the same way that young man suffered then, he made you understand that Laszlo was no longer a safe place for you; he was the one who was causing that to you, and you didn't want that to happen again, you refused.

When Laszlo watched you leave with teary eyes, your chest rising and falling at an alarming rate, and your hands slightly trembling, he knew he hadn't been able to protect you the way he wanted. He had failed you.

Now that he was home, remembering those agonizing minutes you'd suffered, he couldn't help but grit his teeth at the rage he felt at himself, letting out a snort to calm the anxiety that had begun to take over him. With his heart in a fist, he began to walk slowly towards the living room while he prayed that you were waiting for him there, just as he had previously imagined when he had entered his house, but it was not like that. Stopping on the threshold that separated the living room from the hall, he made sure that the vibrant colors that were always in that room were just a product of his imagination because now that you weren't there; everything had taken on grayer and sadder colors, only having a small flash of crimson in the small ring that was on the coffee table in front of the sofa that you always occupied to talk about your busy mornings and afternoons, both of you using that precise moment to appreciate to the other in the way you longed for, but now you weren't there, just the reminder that you were once there.

Laszlo realized that he had lost you forever and there would be no way to get you back.

The house felt cold again and as lonely as it had before I met you.

#laszlo kreizler #laszlo #kreizler #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler x you #laszlo kreizler x oc #reader #you #oc #daniel brühl #laszlo kreizler imagine #daniel brühl imagine #the alienist

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ultraintrovertedgryffindor · 2 years

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A Sensual Education - Laszlo Kreizler

I learned a lot about clits for this fic, didn't realize how much people (mostly men) hated them. Everyone, go touch your clits, treasure them, they deserve it after people like Freud wanted to get rid of them cause they were too insecure of themselves and scared of women🙃

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), typical 19th century ideology, misogyny, religious guilt, pining, innocence kink, fingering, virginity loss, soft dom!Laszlo, consent is sexy, flufffff

3.4K Words🤙🏻

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From an early age, you were always taught that anything do to with sex was a sin. You weren’t really told why but it was an unspoken moral rule.

Women weren’t allowed to have sex until after marriage and if the man wants it. Women were for men’s pleasure and to make babies; that was it. From an early age, you were always doubtful of this but you were always too scared to make your concerns known.

You had asked your mother about it after you started your courses, but you were immediately shut down and scolded for even thinking such a thing. So every time you had a question or concern, you always had to push it down and you never spoke about it.

Once, you had heard, in the middle of the night, your mother with your father in their bedroom, it sounded like they were both in pain. You peaked inside their room and what you saw shocked you to your core. It was not in fact your mother, but it was your father with another woman. It looked painful. Why would someone engage in such acts if it was painful? It didn’t make sense.

From an early age, you were already seeing contradictions from everyone and you didn’t know what to believe.

One night, you tried touching yourself, just out of curiosity. It felt…different, but good. Though you were too scared and embarrassed to continue. Surely, you were going to hell for what you did. You prayed for forgiveness, and you never touched yourself again.

You knew it would probably bring shame upon you and your family, but you had always wanted to pursue a career in psychology. The mind was fascinating, and you had always wanted to figure out what causes people to do what they do; why they lie, why they hurt others, why they are so insistent on following old rules. Doctor Laszlo Kreizler had been looking for someone to intern for him. Despite being a woman, the doctor seemed happy to welcome you to his team.

It was very early on when you started to see Doctor Kreizler in a different light, one that you had not seen anyone before. He was very handsome, even your mother had confessed that to you privately. But it felt different this time. You had crushes before, but you never thought to act on them. You just figured that your parents would find you a man to marry and that would be that, but thankfully they weren’t that old fashioned. You were allowed to choose someone for yourself if you wanted, and you found that Laszlo was someone you wanted very badly. Just one small problem: he was your boss and you had no idea if he’d ever feel the same way.

You’d feel embarrassed every time you interacted with him, which was a lot. You would have to really concentrate whenever he was teaching you what to do with certain patients, and you managed well enough. Sometimes you’d sit in on one of his counseling sessions to see what he does and how he goes about it, but his voice was so mesmerizing that you’d forget exactly what he had been saying. It was debilitating, your crush, always feeling such yearning whenever he caught your gaze; but you had to move on. It definitely would not be professional if you acted on your sinful feelings to him.

Your lust got even worse when Laszlo started to get more touchy feely with you. He wasn’t inappropriate of course, just lingering touches here and there whenever you did a good job with the patients; but that was more than enough for your fantasies to run wild with false hope that he might’ve liked you back. He even insisted you call him by his first name, before you always addressed him as Doctor Kreizler. He unknowingly was only fanning the flames of your infatuation.

Your crush just kept growing stronger and stronger.

Finally, one day, one of the doctor’s other employee’s told you that he needed to see you in his office later that day. You were instantly worried, thinking you may have done a bad job or worse, he had found out about your crush on him. But the employee said you had nothing to worry about, telling you that you were the fastest learner they had ever seen. It lessened your nerves…only slightly. You’d just have to find out for yourself.

You decided to go to his office early, otherwise you’d be worrying yourself to death and you didn’t care much for that. But when you arrived, the doctor wasn’t there. Serves you right for being impatient, you supposed.

You waited in Doctor Kreizler’s office, twiddling your thumbs and failing to calm your nerves. So instead, you decided to look around, despite knowing you shouldn’t, but you didn’t know what else to do.

Scanning his bookshelves absentmindedly, you came across a particularly eye-catching name. Kama Sutra? You let out an audible gasp as you saw the cover on the front of the book. It was a man and a woman being…intimate with each other. You tried not to judge, but what kind of deviant would keep a book like this? Despite your initial horror, you couldn’t help but skim through the pages, feeling yourself growing uncomfortably hot at the words and illustrations. There were words on those pages that you didn’t even have a clue what they meant, but they felt dirty regardless.

You were so enraptured by all this new information that you didn’t notice Doctor Kreizler walk in. You all but jumped out of your skin as you heard him clear his throat, looking at you expectantly. “Oh, Lord, I am so sorry, Doctor. I was just waiting for you to get back but this caught my eye, I didn’t mean to pry, I promise.” You rambled with a slight stutter, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest when Laszlo took the book from you with a ghost of a smile. “Please, sir, don’t tell anyone I was looking at this, if my parents found out, they’d throw me on the streets! I’ll pray for forgiveness!”

Laszlo gently shook his head, patting your shoulder reassuringly. “It’s quite alright, it’ll stay between us. Please, you don’t have to put on the pious act for me.”

You furrowed your brow, tilting your head slightly in confusion. “An act, sir? What do you mean?”

“The whole pretending that you think every single thing pertaining to sex is sinful and immoral.” He said with a brittle chuckle.

“It…it’s not?”

Laszlo froze, his eyes scanning your face for any indication that you were playing up the innocent act, but he didn’t find anything about your expression that would lead him to believe that you were lying. Were you actually this innocent? “You’ve never been taught about sex before? Anything about it?”

Your cheeks felt like they had been lit aflame, you looked down, your hair hiding your face slightly. “It’s a sin, especially before marriage. The only reason to do it is if you want to have a child.” You recited from what you learned from your parents and pastor.

“God, is that what your parents taught you? Hypocrites. It’s ridiculous. Of course sex isn’t sinful.”

“But…what about touching oneself? Surely that’s a sin, right?”

“It’s a natural part of growing up. Everyone has done it, there’s nothing to be ashamed about.” Laszlo noticed your nervousness, the fiddling with your hands and your eyes anywhere but his. “Have you never touched yourself before? Never even tried?”

You bit your lip, rubbing your hand up your arm as you felt goosebumps start to rise. “Once, but it didn’t feel right…at all. I never tried again. I never should have done it in the first place.” You felt ashamed talking about this with someone as professional as Laszlo. He must’ve been so ashamed of you as well, you wished you never even set foot in his office. But what you didn’t know was Laszlo was feeling ashamed of himself for how lustful he felt all of a sudden. The thought that you had never experienced sexual pleasure made his pants feel way too tight in that moment, and he felt sorry for you, but not in a condescending way. It would be a risk for your professional relationship, but it was one he was willing to take.

You didn’t notice Laszlo walking closer to you until you felt his hand gently graze your hand that was nervously holding your other arm. You felt your heart skip a beat as you finally looked up at him, finding his eyes to be searching yours. His tantalizing stare felt like it was penetrating your soul, him being so close to you that you could see your own startled expression in his dilated pupils. “Do you want me to show you how it’s done?” Laszlo asked in a low tone, his voice almost gravelly, causing a shiver to run down your spine in anticipation.

You didn’t know why, but you suddenly felt a burning hot desire in your lower stomach, a slick wetness pooling at the apex of your thighs. Your expression reflected in his eyes turned from being startled to almost dazed. Out of anything he could’ve said, Laszlo surprised you with that. You wanted to say yes, so badly. But… “What will happen to me if I say yes?” You asked timidly, glancing down at his hand on yours.

“Nothing that you don’t consent to.” He smiled softly, but with your fearful expression, he realized what you actually were asking. “I promise, you’re not going to hell if you allow me to do this.”

You exhaled shakily. “Okay.”

Laszlo smiled, running his hand up to your shoulder and moving a piece of hair out of your face. “Sit on my desk and lift up your skirts for me please.” He instructed, and you obeyed nervously, feeling your whole body heat up as he watched intently as you exposed most of your legs to him. “Good girl.” You try not to squirm as Laszlo stood right next to you, feeling his breath on your neck as he lightly held you in place with his right arm and using his left hand to gently trail up your inner thigh, eliciting another shiver from you. “If I do anything that you don’t like or want to stop for any reason, just tell me and I’ll stop. Okay?”

You nodded. “Okay.��

You took a deep breath as Laszlo finally reached your aching cunt, exhaling sharply when his fingers made contact with your sex. “Spread your legs for me, my dear.” You gasped as he touched a spot that was particularly sensitive. “Is that painful?” He asked, but you quickly shook your head no. “This spot is called the clitoris, it’s the only human organ where its sole purpose is to provide pleasure. Isn’t that extraordinary?” He spoke huskily into your ear, causing goosebumps to rise all over your body, all while you were still struggling to keep still as he kept slowly rubbing circles on your clit. You wanted him to go faster, but all you could do was whimper pitifully as Laszlo started to kiss and nip at your neck. “How does that feel, Schatz?”

“G-Good…” You whimpered, “so good but…”

“What is it?”

“Can you…move a bit faster, please?” Laszlo smirked at your stuttering voice, finding your shyness adorable. Instead of giving you what you craved, he did the opposite, removing his hand from you and moving to stand in between your legs, spreading your legs even further. “What are you-? Oh!” You gasped as Laszlo slowly pushed one of his fingers inside you, the intrusion foreign but not entirely unwelcome…

“And how does this feel? Still good?” He asked, adding a second finger and gently thrusting into you, the stretch causing you to wince slightly but you didn’t want him to stop. You let out your first moan as he rubbed your clit with his thumb in tandem with his thrusts. “I assume that was a yes, hm?”

“Y-Yeah…” You moaned, your hips moving against his hand mindlessly, starting to feel pleasure building and building inside you. “Feels so good, Laszlo…”

Laszlo lifted your chin with his other hand, forcing you to make eye contact with him. He wanted to see your face. He finally kissed you as he sped up his hand movements, swallowing your loud moans, a deep guttural groan escaping him as he felt your walls clench around his fingers. “You feel that pressure building in your body?” You nodded quickly, panting and moaning but you still tried to pay attention to what he was saying. “You’re getting close to what’s called an orgasm. It’s a feeling of euphoria when you reach the peak of sexual pleasure.”

“Are…are you getting close?” You stuttered.

Laszlo smiled, hiding a wince when his cock jumped in his pants. “I’m not the one getting pleasured, you are.” And as if right on cue, you felt yourself reach that peak and it was indescribable. Your body burned all over, but in a good way. You moaned loudly as you rode out that wave, gripping onto the doctor’s waistcoat for purchase. Your corset felt almost painful as your nipples hardened as you came, it felt all too restrictive. But you came down from that high, and you already wanted to feel it again. “Are you okay?” Laszlo’s soft deep voice brought you back to reality.

“Can…can you make me do that again?” You asked shyly, causing Laszlo to chuckle.

You winced as Laszlo lightly tapped your clit, the feeling almost too much to handle. “You’re too sensitive. Some people can’t come again right after because of the oversensitivity. But you might be ready to go again after several minutes.”

“But I want you to feel good too. I want you to…come.” You spoke timidly, looking up at him with puppy dog eyes. He almost melted on the spot.

Laszlo frowned, shaking his head, trying to ignore his aching cock that was just crying out for stimulation. “I don’t want to hurt you. It might be too much, especially right now.”

“But I want you, Laszlo. I really do.” Laszlo didn’t say anything as you reached for the buttons on his pants, feeling guilty as he let you nervously palm his member through his trousers. “Please, I want you to be my first…”

Laszlo exhaled a shaky breath, grabbing your face and kissing you lightly with a frustrated growl. “First times for women can be painful…”

“I don’t care. I want you to show me what it’s like.” You begged, gently biting his bottom lip, doing everything in your power to let him know that you’d be okay.

Laszlo finally gave in, kissing you again with much more fervor, allowing himself to crave your touch. Your hands were all over him, messing up his perfectly styled hair and undoing the buttons of his waistcoat so you could feel more of him. You moaned as he squeezed your breasts through your dress, running his hands up and down your torso as you pulled his cock out of the confines of his pants. But he suddenly stopped, taking your hand away before speaking. “We’re going to take this slow, okay? If I hurt you, tell me and I’ll stop, okay?” He said seriously.

“Okay.”

Laszlo slowly rubbed the head of his cock in between your folds, you letting out small whines as he rubbed himself on your still overly sensitive clit. He looked into your eyes when he lined himself up with your entrance, silently asking for your approval. You nodded, holding onto his hand that was gripping your thigh.

His cock was much bigger than his fingers, that’s for sure. You let out a silent cry when he entered you, just his tip stretching you far more than his fingers. It was a burning pressure, but you still didn’t want him to stop. Despite the initial pain, it felt so natural for him to be inside you. You accepted him as best you could, him stilling inside you when he bottomed out. “Are you okay?” He asked, already panting from holding himself back.

“Yes, Laszlo, please. Keep going.” You and Laszlo both let out deep guttural groans as he started to thrust into you slowly, him keeping a firm grip on your thigh as he rocked his hips back and forth. Soon, you started to feel a new type of pleasure. It didn’t feel the same as when he was rubbing your clit, but whatever it was, it felt amazing. Every time Laszlo thrusted, the tip of his cock would hit that spot, making your eyes roll to the back of your skull. His slow thrusts weren’t enough now. You wanted more. You needed more. “Faster…please.” You whined, moving your own hips up to meet his.

“You sure?” It was sweet that he was always checking in, you appreciated it, but sweet wasn’t what you needed at that moment. You nodded vigorously, grabbing the collar of his shirt roughly and bringing him down to kiss you.

“Oh, my God-!” You gasped, moaning in his ear as he sped up his thrusts, his skin slapping against yours echoing around his office. “You feel so good.” You smiled tremulously, tears of overwhelming pleasure brimming your eyes. Laszlo’s grunting and soft moaning had to have been the prettiest sound you had ever heard, each others’ moans mixing together like a symphony.

“You’re exquisite, my dear.” Laszlo breathed out, moaning every time he felt you clench around him, your velvety walls taking him in deep and holding on with a vice grip. “You’re doing so well…fuck.” He cursed, his cock twitching as he sped up even more, chasing his own release desperately, your pretty moans spurring him on. “I’m so close.” He voiced, his words coming out strangled, his hand tightening around yours, bringing it up and placing a light kiss on your knuckles.

“Do it, come. Please, come.” You whimpered, crossing your legs behind his back, not allowing him to remove himself from you, pulling him as close as possible. His heavy breaths and soft moans fanned across your skin as he neared his climax, placing sloppy kisses on your cheek and down your neck, his neatly trimmed beard scratching at your skin. You cried out as Laszlo started to rub your clit once more, desperate to feel you come around his cock. “Please, please…” You whined, not even sure what you were asking for. His circular motions on your clit paired with his cock roughly splitting you open over and over again was almost too much, but you fully relinquished yourself to him, happy to be used by someone you admired so much.

“Come for me again, Schatz. I want to feel you, please.” Laszlo moaned, speeding up his ministrations on your clit.

“Laszlo!” You squealed, your legs shaking uncontrollably as you reached that peak once more, falling limp in his arms as you rode out your second orgasm.

“Oh, Scheiße!” Laszlo stilled as you clenched around him, letting out a loud strained grunt as he finally released inside of you, coating your walls with his cum. He buried his head in your shoulder, panting heavily along with you, trying to steady his heartbeat. “Are…are you okay?” He asked nervously as he pulled out of you and stuffed himself back into his trousers, looking into your eyes with concern. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, no. You didn’t.” You shook your head, wearing a tired satisfied smile. “I really liked it.”

Laszlo let out a relieved sigh. “Good.” He said, wearing a lopsided grin, placing a short light kiss on the tip of your nose. He chuckled breathlessly, running a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t expecting the day to turn out like this…but I’m glad it did.”

“Me too.” You smiled timidly, but then you remembered something. “So, um, why did you want to see me in the first place?” You asked.

Laszlo chuckled nervously, gently caressing your cheek while a slight blush. “Oh, I was, uh.” He cleared his throat, “With how well you’re doing, I was going to ask you to work for the Institute officially. Paid and everything. But now…I want to take you out on a date too, if you’d allow me.”

“Really?” You beamed.

“Really.”

“I’d love that. Both. Both of those things. To work here and go on a date with you.” You rambled with a giggle, making Laszlo smile.

“Great…I suppose we should get back to work now.” He said reluctantly, holding onto your hips like he never wanted to let you go.

“I promise, I won’t let you regret hiring me.”

“I don’t think you could make me regret anything, my dear.”

~~~~~~~~~~

back on my bullshit (aka, i'm obsessed with Daniel again). nobody talk to me.

#the alienist #laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler imagine #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler x fem!reader #laszlo kreizler smut #daniel brühl

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nev3rfound · 2 years

Text

in another lifetime : part seven - h.z / l.k

knowing your time is up you have no choice but to accept your fate with laszlo by your side. yet zemo refuses to let this be the end for you, knowing there is so much more you for to experience and live for. 4.7k (it's a longun)

masterlist / permanent taglist / etsy shop - requests are now open!

warnings: elements of tfatws series and the alienist, injuries, health problems, mentions of illness and disjointed info from doctor strange kinda au, kinda sad in parts (this is all sort of an au so be mindful thank you!) SAD okay - i warned you

PART ONE / PART TWO / PART THREE / PART FOUR / PART FIVE / PART SIX / PART SEVEN (the ending)

thank you so SO much for reading this series and allowing me to delve into other daniel bruhl characters. it's been a joy to write and here's to IALT :)

New York - 1898

Laszlo stirs beside you, turning over as the sun began to rise. The rays of light encroach through the curtains, illuminating a slither of your face for him to admire.

He couldn't help but think how peaceful you look in your sleep, without a single worry consuming your thoughts unlike his that haunts his sleep. He knew this was the end, and that there was no stopping the inevitable, but he'd at least make the most of what little time he has left with you.

Rising from the bed with a stiff back, Laszlo attempts to be quiet as the mattress rose with him. But he knew better than to assume you'd remain asleep, you always woke at the slightest of sounds.

"Why're you staring, Laszlo, don't you know it's rude?" Your voice remains heavy with sleep as you blink away the last of your dreams.

Unable to stop the corners of his lips rising, Laszlo nods. "Sometimes I just can't help myself, dear."

"I guess that can be forgiven," You mutter, forcing yourself to sit upright only to feel a wave of nausea overcome your senses.

Laszlo notices immediately and he reaches under the bed, handing you a bowl kept in case. He doesn't even flinch at the sound of you retching into the bowl, only lowers his gaze until you're composed.

"I'm sorry," The words are muffled by the bowl, but Laszlo hears you nonetheless. Awkwardly he makes his way over to your side and runs his fingers through your hair, brushing it from your face as you lift your head back up. "Las," You whisper his name, too afraid to say it.

Yet, he understands without having verbal confirmation.

It's time.

New York - 2025

Entering the close to an abandoned-looking building, Sam struggles to hold back a sneeze as he walked into a cobweb.

"Ma-duk," Zemo mutters, following Sam in with Bucky smiling to himself at the comment.

"I heard that." Sam retorts, wiping the cobweb away. "So, where are they?" He looks around at the dust-coated stairwell and stain-glassed windows.

Bucky hums. "They should be here."

"Yes, thank you for repeating that." Sam rolls his eyes. "How are we here before them when they can do that," Sam lifts his arms up, copying the actions often seen from the sorcerers of the mystic arts.

Zemo's ears perk up at a faint hissing sound, and as he turns sparks begin to form in thin air. "I think they might've heard you, Sam." Zemo calls out, watching several portals form and the recruited team of sorcerers step into the lobby.

Now standing before the trio, Strange approaches first.

"Are you sure you're ready to do this? We don't know how she'll react or if she'll even come back." Strange reminds Bucky specifically, knowing he had the most concern about you returning despite the longing to see you again.

"She needs to come back." Zemo comments with a small smile. "So she can heal, and live her life." He adds, looking down at his left hand, noting how it still feels odd to see his ring finger bare.

"There's one thing though that we haven't discussed," Emilie speaks up, sharing a look of understanding with Strange. "If Y/n returns, she, she won't be able to go back, not ever." Emilie explains with sorrow filling her tone, picturing your bright smile in those old articles everyone researched.

You'd be torn from your family once again, forced into another situation whether you'd like it or not.

"She'll never see Laszlo again?" Zemo is the first to ask, unsure what to make of it all.

"It's too complex for the timeline. If she were to return, a new timeline would form and," Strange trails off upon seeing blank expressions in response.

"If Y/n comes home, that's it." Emilie states finally. "It's up to her if she does, but we can at least try."

"So be it." Sam nods, sparing Bucky a look who nods in response despite his shoulders beginning to fall forward in despair.

Both Emilie and Strange turn their backs to face the other sorcerers and begin their process. "So, Y/n will be home." Sam chuckles dryly at the thought, after all these years without you to tease him or make him smile when times got tough. He knew he owed you more than these past few years, even if he's not been there to help you through them, he'll help you now.

Wandering the halls of the Institute, your fingers glide across the walls laced with memories. You'll never forget the children, their laughter or cries for a Mother figure and them finding comfort in you for a short while.

You find your feet guiding you toward Laszlo's office, the door remaining ajar and piano now clean from dust too tempting to ignore.

Sitting down once more your back remains turned from the doorway. Yet this time, you can sense Laszlo lingering, watching you closely as you begin to play a gentle melody.

With your eyes closed, your fingers guide the tune, one you knew from childhood- a simpler time before everything became so complicated when there were no worldly threats and a lifetime of loss.

"You played that once before," Laszlo enters his office, listening to the song ending and catches your fingers slipping from the keys. "Christmas Eve last year." He remembers, unaware of the tears forming in your eyes whilst he smiles at the memory.

"My mother taught it to me," You whisper, not wishing to shatter the moment with volume. "she, she would always sing along whilst dancing with my siblings." A single tear falls to your lap upon feeling Laszlo's hand rest on your shoulder, followed by his lips to the top of your head.

"I know Schatz, we danced together, along with Sara and John." Laszlo recalls as he lifts his head up, catching the downturn of your lips.

"Oh, of course," The words pass your lips in a mumble. "it's getting worse, Las." You hate to admit it aloud, but you both knew it would happen eventually.

Taking the spot beside you, Laszlo wraps his arm around you allowing you to rest your head on his chest. With a heavy sigh, he closes his eyes, treasuring this moment with you. "We knew this was coming, Y/n." Laszlo remains truthful, no matter how much it hurts. "But there's no need to be afraid, remember that."

Laszlo can hear you sniffling at his words he uses his bad arm to try and lift your chin so you can look at him properly.

Despite your blurred vision, you can tell he's crying too. "What if something happens?" You dare to question, knowing this is filled with uncertainties for you both.

"We'll figure it out, just like we always have." Laszlo states as he leans in, his lips brushing over yours. "It'll all work out, my dear." He mutters to you before kissing you again, this time not wanting to dare let go of you.

On the sidelines to the final preparation stands Bucky, watching everyone's movements and listening to the conversation.

"I thought you'd be more excited, hell, I anticipated a smile at the least." Sam tries to lighten the tense mood as he dares intrude Bucky from his thoughts.

Bucky pauses before sparing Sam a glance. "It's just not what I expected. After all this time." He admits, his mind racing with those photos and articles they all read about you.

You were a wife, a mother figure to children who needed one. A friend to many and a badass detective. It was everything you dreamt of having, but never had the opportunity to experience.

"Don't go telling me you wanna back out?" Sam notices the change in Bucky's posture immediately.

Shaking his head slowly, no more words are exchanged between the pair.

"It'll be Y/n's choice, Sam." Zemo comments, having overheard the brief conversation.

"But she should come home, to where she belongs." Sam can't help himself. He knows he might be selfish, but he doesn't want to lose you again, not like this. "If she doesn't come back, she's gone for good. There's no returning, no miracle, no spell or time travel available. She will become nothing more than a name on a gravestone."

Sam's words fall flat between everyone. His voice had risen during his statement.

Strange clears his throat, ensuring their attention reverts. "It's time, she's ready."

Every student present begins to form a line whilst Strange stands before them. "You know what to do, focus." He nods to them all, stepping back toward Bucky, Sam and Zemo as the students take deep breaths.

"You sure this'll work?" Sam can't help ask, depiste how much extensive practise has gone into this.

One by one, a portal begins to open. Some are to places unrecognisable, the wrong time period or the wrong city.

Yet, Emilie's leads to Doctor Laszlo Kreizler's institute.

"Well, who's going?" Emilie asks with a hint of a smile on her face, watching Strange, Sam and Bucky enter, leaving Zemo to stand watching. "You not joining?"

Zemo keeps his feet firmly planted on the spot. "It's not my place to be involved." He simply remarks, crossing his fingers behind his back, hoping you'll return.

"After all this, you're leaving?" Tears line Sara's cheeks, but she refuses to wipe them. This is her moment of weakness with the three people she trusts with everything. How was this supposed to become only two?

Laszlo's hand remains on your waist, holding you close. He can feel your body tensing, noting you clenching your fists as light streams through your veins.

"Trust me, if there was another way," You trail off when the pain intensifies. It feels like acid is pumping through your veins, causing you to fall into Laszlo who whispers comfort into your ear.

"We can't let her live like this," Laszlo kisses your temple, not wanting to face his friends. "she will be helped, she will be cured." He reaffirms. "That is what is important in this situation."

John, previously standing tall now slumps into the armchair. "I can't imagine our lives without you now, Y/n." John dryly chuckles, catching a half smile from you in response.

"I'll be back, John." You breathe out, missing the look Laszlo sends John. "Can't keep me gone. Not when there's so much to do around here." Forcing a small laugh, the pain begins to subside enough for you to support your own weight.

Yet, something shifts.

Laszlo notices, but Sara and John seem oblivious to such.

Without a second thought, your hand reaches for Laszlo's, taking his fingers between yours and clasping your hand into his. He squeezes three times, and you do in return.

"It's time." You stand tall, with your husband by your side. "Don't try and have too much fun without me, alright?"

Sara and John rise to their feet, embracing you in a hug before allowing you to walk out of the office, hand in hand with Laszlo.

Once you have turned the corner, Sara crumbles into John. "She's not coming back, is she?" Sara mutters, feeling John's hand on the back of her head, holding her close.

John needn't say a word, because they both knew from how tightly Laszlo held your hand, knowing it would soon slip from his forevermore.

Standing opposite the building, horses continued to neigh before being forced to walk on, guiding the carriages from their view leaving tracks of snow behind.

"We're really here, huh?" Sam looks in disbelief. Despite everything that's happened, this is probably in his top three weirdest situations.

Bucky watches intensely at the front door to the institution, the large gates guarding the building delicately wound with golden leaves. And then, his breath halters at the sight; you.

Strange can see it play out and extends his arm outward. "I wouldn't." His tone suggests a warning, and for once, Bucky obliges. "We have to let her do this, on her terms."

"How long do we have?" Sam asks, glancing back at the open portal. The rest of the sorcerers are supporting Emilie, seeing sweat drip from her forehead, her arms already trembling.

Without blinking, Strange responds. "5 minutes at most."

Dark clouds above begin to shake, dropping snowflakes down on the city, adding to the existing used pile beneath their feet.

The group watches you exit the building, hand in hand with Doctor Kreizler. If it were any other situation, Sam might've spared a laugh at your outfit, knowing how long it must've taken for you to comply to such a dress code.

You continue your conversation with Laszlo, pretending that this isn't it, because it's not, it cannot be. And then you see them, through the gates, your other family.

Without a chance to catch a breath, the piercing pain increases and you let out a scream.

"Schatz, it's alright, I've got you." Collapsing behind the gates, you close your eyes, embracing Laszlo as tears freely fall, almost freezing against your cheeks. "I've got you." He repeats, hearing hurried footsteps approaching the gates.

Two pairs of hands wrap around the gates, matched with concerned gazes set on you.

"Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes, I take it?" Laszlo asks.

Neither Sam nor Bucky can get over the resemblance to the man standing on the other side of the portal, but they know this isn't the time to fixate on how you could hate one and love another.

"Can we come in?" Bucky questions, thankful when Laszlo nods.

Snapping the chains, the gates open outward.

"Come on, schatz." Laszlo lifts a hand up to your hair, brushing it out from your face, his heart sinking when you meet his gaze. "We both know this day would come, where one would say goodbye to the other before our time was up." He speaks clearly, submerging the pain in his voice.

Slowly you rise with his help, unaware of your oldest friends mere feet from you after all this time.

"Oh, Laszlo," You whisper, placing your hands on his cheeks, catching a tear he lets slip out at your delicate tone. "this isn't goodbye. There's still so much more for us to do."

Bringing his hands to cover yours, he moves them to his lips. "But I'm afraid we won't be doing it together, dear." He frets, feeling your hands shake in his.

"Our adventure isn't over, Las." Squeezing his hands three times, you focus on his deep eyes, remembering them clearly when he first stumbled upon you all those years ago. They were forever laced with kindness, and sincerity for those who needed help. He never had to help you, but he chose to. And now, you will do him the same kindness. "It is simply happening at different times."

Holding back a sob, Laszlo squeezes back three times. "And that is okay." You finish, leaning closer to kiss him.

When your lips meet his, you wish to never let go.

Every kiss replays in your mind. From the piano to your first time together, your wedding, the arguments, the relief after a case, near misses during said cases, celebrations, losses and every little moment in between.

Snowflakes mix with teardrops as you part.

"I will always love you, Laszlo." You whisper, wanting this to be said between you both, for him only.

His hands begin to slip from yours until they're empty of your warm embrace. "I love you, Y/n Kreizler." Laszlo mirrors your tone, watching your footprints in the snow lead toward the large portal before swallowing you whole.

The snow continues to fall, and your footprints begin to be covered. But you'll never be forgotten that easily, not by Laszlo.

As the portal consumes you, two pairs of arms support you. "We've got you, it's okay, doll." Bucky mutters, attempting to soothe you.

Looking over your shoulder, sparks of orange dissipate and your heart sinks. A scream overcomes your body, leaving you to slump to the ground with nothing left to give. That's when the world becomes blurred once more and turns into darkness.

Three months later. New York, 2025.

It still felt strange. The loss of him and that life is something you're unsure you'll ever overcome.

You, like many of your friends, have endured more loss than any person should experience in a lifetime. But knowing that doesn't make it any easier, nothing does.

Sitting in the living room with an almost cold mug of tea in hand, tear streaks are permanently dried to your cheeks.

"Y/n?" Zemo enters the room, hardly surprised when you do not respond nor spare him a glance.

Ever since you returned, you've been avoiding him. Zemo has an idea of why, but it's never been confirmed. You were escorted to Wakanda the night you returned, and only last week released with a clean bill of health to New York. A clean bill of physical help, no one can fix the scars on your mind with ease, not even Wakandan technology.

As an act of gratitude, you asked for them to spare Zemo for all he has done and helped with. Though you never told him to his face, you were grateful for everything that happened as, without it, you would never have known true love.

"Hello, Zemo." Your voice is still hoarse from the nightmares that plague your attempts at sleep. Everyone can hear you cry and scream for Laszlo. Usually, Bucky is the one who rushes in, trying to ease the pain like you once did for him. "How're you today?"

Nodding in response, despite the fact your back is facing him, Zemo approaches you cautiously. "I wanted to thank you, Y/n." Zemo acknowledges, nearing the sofa situated toward the large pane of windows.

"You deserve to live too." The sentence is muttered, but loud enough for Zemo to hear it. "I know I," You pause, daring to meet his gaze for the first time. "I can't go back." Tears immediately form in your eyes as you look at him.

Clean cut, hair parted differently. Even his stance and attire are unlike your beloved. But despite how much of him differ, it's still a punch in the gut to see him like this.

"How are you feeling today, Y/n?" Zemo rephrases, watching you roughly wipe your eyes with the tattered sleeves of your hoodie. "There's something I'd like to show you, only if you're feeling well enough for the excursion."

Rising to your feet with a heavy sigh, you face Zemo straight on. This time, your eyes do not waver from his. "I could use a change of scenery." You shrug, following behind him toward the front door.

Neither Sam or Bucky question the sight of you both leaving the building, instead they were thankful to see you, even if it were with Zemo. "Do you think?" Sam begins to question, noticing Bucky nod. "And do we?"

"No," Bucky answers curtly. "let him show her."

Walking alongside Zemo, the chill of winter catches you off guard as your arms remain tightly crossed.

"My wife, she always told me stories are often intertwined in life." Zemo quietly speaks up as you walk slowly alongside him. "When, when I left Sokovia, she wished me farewell like she normally would. I gave my son a hug goodbye," His voice cracks, causing you to pause and face him.

"That, that was the last time you saw them, isn't it?" Your hand rests on his upper arm as he barely nods. "What did she mean, about stoties being intertwined?"

An attempted smile crosses Zemo's lips at the memory of his wife's words. "She said there would always be people in our lives we'd meet, and for some reason, it would just make sense. I guess I'd never thought too deeply about it, until well," He trails off as you both continue walking toward an unknown destination.

"Until?" You press.

"Until you came into my apartment with a look of utter disgust, the opposite of the one my wife once had." He remarks, daring to glance over and see the visible confusion on his face. "You, you're a lot like her, Y/n. In many ways."

Words fail your lips, but you manage to hum.

"I don't expect you to say anything." Zemo adds fretfully.

"Where are we going?" You eventually question, noting the streets baring away from the liveliness of the city, drearing toward the quieter patches, peaceful even.

"It's just up ahead." He tells you, leaving you both to walk in silence toward the grass filled pathway.

Thick blades of grass and weeds were overgrown, leaving little of the original pathway exposed. Your eyes wandered the grounds, noticing the increase of angel statues, named etched in stone and dried, dying flowers planted at the bases.

Suddenly, your mind drifts back to a forgotten memory.

"This is where she'll be buried." Laszlo sighs deeply, resting his hand heavily on the cane, the other in yours. "It was all my fault."

"Don't say that, Laszlo." You hush him. "It was an accident, no one is to be of blame for this." Looking around the graveyard, many plots remained empty, awaiting a new resident to take a permanent place. "At least it is a pleasant resting place."

Lifting his head up, he follows your gaze toward the large hanging oak tree. "It is indeed." Laszlo remarks, stepping back and lightly pulls on your hand, guiding you out of the graveyard.

"Zemo," You breathe out, sparing him a teary glance.

"I won't intrude, but I thought this is something you deserved." He clears his throat, coming to a halt with you by his side. "It's the least I can do for you, Y/n." A small smile graces his lips when your eyes meet his, and an attempted one crosses your own.

Looking down, your knees become weak.

It's covered in moss, and cracked in areas. Mixtures of grey and white spread beneath the greenery that entraps it. But there, clearly etched into the stone; Doctor Laszlo Kriezler & Y/n Kriezler. Husband and Wife, lived long eventful lives. Their adventures together and apart will forever outlive them.

"He-" A sob lodges in your throat, your knees finally giving way. With Zemo's help, you cradle the mildewed grass beneath your feet as your fingers glide over your names, remaining together, forever.

"Whilst you were in Wakanda, Doctor Strange was able to find a small temporary loophole." Zemo begins to explain, remaining stood by your side whilst you quietly cry. Your palm never leaves your husband's name on the stone. "Bucky and Sam were able to visit Doctor Kriezler, inform him that you lived and will eventually be alright."

Sniffing, you can picture it now. Your oldest friends, going to meet your husband from the 1800s. As if your life wasn't weird enough.

Reaching into his jacket pocket, Zemo pulls out an envelope and kneels beside you. "He wanted you to have this, Y/n."

A wax sealed, well well worn enclosed letter is in front of you. Even from here, it smells like the institute. Closing your eyes, you can see Laszlo now, hunched over his desk in the evening. Once all the children have gone to sleep, the fire behind him crackles. But you aren't there to fill the room with music or laughter. He'll be alone, writing you a letter, a final farewell.

Bringing the letter into your own hands, you sit upright. "Thank you, Zemo." You mumble, aware of his presence retreating to allow you this moment.

Cautiously, you lift the wax seal from the delicate paper to see his handwriting.

Wiping your eyes once more, you avoid splashing the ink with your tears as you begin to read his final letter to you, his love, his lost wife.

'My dearest Y/n, I know this has not been an easy journey for you, schatz, it was never intended to be. From the moment we first met, there was something in you I knew I couldn't live without knowing, even if John claimed insanity from me for allowing a woman dressed in such attire to be seen getting into our carriage; it was the least of my concern because I needed, I yearned to learn about this mystery woman. What I had not intended, was to fall in love with her. That, however, is not something I can ever regret, for it was the wisest decision I have made. Your smile, your wit, your laughter. My love, it is something I think of fondly, and I know Sara and John miss it too. We often sit in silence here at the institute, thinking back to those days after an investigation. How we'd all sit by the fire with a whiskey. You might accompany with music, and Sara may dare dance if she'd drank enough. Those are the moments I reflect on most; as you were candidly content. Your eyes would flicker with unfathomed joy which travelled to your lips and warmed my heart. I'm afraid to admit I can't bring myself to sit at the piano without you by my side. That being said, Y/n, my dear, I don't want you to suffer out there. We knew the consequences, even if neither wanted to admit such. I loved and will love you forevermore with everything, but I want you to do everything we never had the time for. Travel my love. See the world, take care of your spunky friends - they are exactly as you described them to be. If things were different, I'd say Sara might have taken some fancy (but best not repeat that.) Now, I am sure that you are aware of my burial place, one I had made originally for you. Even though I know you live on, you deserve a place here, one for us to visit. One day, I am sure my name will join yours, and that we will meet again.

Never forget my Y/n, our story is not over. It will continue again, in another life.

With all my love, yours, Laszlo.'

Crumbling into yourself, you have nothing left to voice. You hug the letter close to your chest, wanting and wishing for nothing more than it to be his arms around you. For Laszlo to whisper into your ear that everything will work out.

But he's not here. He's long gone and this is your reality of life without him.

"Y/n?" Zemo quietly calls your name, having approached one more upon seeing you curled into the damp grass as your shoulders shake.

Opening your eyes, you slowly look up at the man so alike to your love. It evokes something new completely within you as you focus on him. "T, thank you." You manage to find the words, knowing deep down that they aren't enough, no words will be enough as you look down at the letter in your grasp.

"I understand, Y/n." Zemo tells you softly, extending his hand toward you.

Accepting his help, you brush off the grass from yourself and glance back to the gravestone.

Silence falls between Zemo and you, but for once it isn't filled with tension and the unknown; it brings peace.

With the letter in hand, your thumb brushes over the wax seal before you tuck it into your pocket and face Zemo once more.

"Helmut?" You speak up, surprising both yourself and Zemo. You've never called him that, but it's embraced as he nods. "Would you like to see your family's memorial?"

Feeling his breath hitch in his throat, Zemo looks around in confusion. "This is real?" He asks in disbelief.

"Yes, Helmut. This is real." A soft smile forms on your lips, one of sure gratitude as Zemo's hand rests on his own heart. "Come on, we wouldn't want to keep them waiting."

"I, I," Stumbling over his own words, Zemo simply wraps his arms around you and brings you into a hug.

Tears form in his eyes whilst you cannot see him, but you can hear how fast his heart is beating.

Lifting your hand up, you rub his back whilst facing the gravestone, knowing somewhere, Laszlo is looking down with pride.

"You deserve closure too, Helmut. A whole new chapter awaits you out there." You mutter to him, closing your eyes and enjoying the embrace before you set off on a new adventure into the unknown. IALT SERIES TAGLIST: (sorry for making you lot wait nearly a whole year for the ending.) @zemosbaroness @fillechatoyante @country-cowgirl-101 @kpopnena @telesynths @thebookisbtr @mybisexualheartbeatsforzemo @ajeff855 @somethingthatsaysbubbles @fangirl-inthe-us @marchingicenotes7 @graniairish @lol-im-done @cinna-minseok @sapphiredreamer26 @swndmans @soxysarah92 @thehornyfemme @bloop-booop @fictionlandslanddreams

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mlmxreader · 2 years

Text

Doctor | Laszlo Kreizler x gn!reader

@king-trash-cryptid asked: This isnt on the prompt list but could you write something with Laszlo and a sick reader?

summary: Laszlo drops everything to help you get better when you're sick, quite literally everything.

tws: swearing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of smoking, sickness

Laszlo didn't like it one bit. Being sick was awful enough to see in his patients, in those he treated and those he tried to help, but seeing his own partner sick was completely different; his steady hand would shake and he would drop everything if you so much as grumbled and coughed, he wouldn't forgive himself if he didn't help you to get better. He hated seeing you so unwell. Even though you reassured him time and time again that you were fine, that you just had a cold and you would be right as rain in a matter of days, he was determined to help you get better.

He asked for your family's traditional recipes, which were sent to him through the post and written in partially smudged ink but still legible; he could remember a few of his own, recipes for soups and stews and broths that would certainly help. He had a recipe for practically every day of the week, something for you to at least look forward to despite your lack of appetite; although it was a hard thing to come across and it costed more than Laszlo was ready to admit, he made sure that there was ice for you to have in every drink you could stomach.

Laszlo knew, though, he knew it wouldn't last but he was still more than determined to help you through it; he gave you medication, he fed you, he gave you whatever you could stomach when it came to drinks, he swapped the duvet on the bed for a thinner blanket, he opened the windows. The fever wasn't too bad, it was more the coughing and the lack of appetite that concerned him.

The lack of energy was another thing, but fatigue and lethargy were known to make an appearance during illness; still, it was something that he kept his eye on. Especially because you were so determined to try and move around and to get about your day. He wasn't having that.

Everyone had been told not to visit Laszlo, mostly so he could focus on looking after you, but also because you had told him not to have anyone over in case they could get sick from you; it worked out either way.

But as he sat there now, laid next to you and looking at you with great concern, Laszlo gently pressed the back of his hand to your sweat soaked forehead.

"How is it, Doc?" You joked weakly, your voice hoarse and raw and the words stinging and scraping as they fell from your mouth.

Laszlo wiped the back of his hand on his shirt, and smiled a little. "You're not as feverish as you were. Do you think you'll be able to sleep?"

A rattling cough gave him his answer, but you still tried your best to smile at him. "I can try... I can go downstairs and sleep on the sofa so you can have a quiet night."

Laszlo shook his head, pulling at your arm gently until he could lace his fingers with yours, holding on tightly as he cracked a smile. "I'm not going anywhere. One night's sleep being missed won't mean anything."

You glared at him, trying not to laugh because you knew it would make your ribs ache and would make your chest tighten and feel like it was being stabbed with a blunt axe. "Yet you have a go at me about staying up."

"I have to," he said quietly. "I... I care about you, and I don't want you to be in pain."

You huffed, nodding and daring to wriggle up against his side, sighing heavily and coughing for a while before you groaned and swallowed thickly, able to feel mucous and phlegm at the back of your throat, the sticky texture of it making you want to gag and retch. "Laszlo?"

"Yes?"

"I love you," you whispered. "But tomorrow... no fucking soup, or stew, or broth or whatever the fuck. I'm sick of that shit."

"You're sick," he pointed out. "It'll help."

"So would a chilie, or a curry," you told him.

Laszlo hummed. "I can see what I can do about it... maybe Cyrus can take me to town and I can get some things but... would you be alright?"

"Yeah," you said gently, trying to be soft on your own throat. "I'm sick, I'm not dying. Or stupid."

He nodded, able to feel your sweat drip down on his shirt, a small pool of it starting to form; a shirt could be cleaned, though, you being sick wouldn't be cured overnight. "Is there anything you need? Medicine, water, food, or-"

"I'd kill for a cigarette," you admitted.

"You're sick, smoking isn't going to help," he grumbled. "I meant anything to help you relax."

"A lick of whisky wouldn't do much harm," you mused. "You got any of that hanging about?"

"Actually, yes," he nodded. "I'll get it in a minute."

"Thank you."

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; spam likers WILL be blocked. as will blogs that refuse to reblog or to give feedback. if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM. don't just "like", REBLOG

#mlem writes #dr laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler #the alienist imagine #the alienist #daniel brühl x you #daniel brühl imagine #daniel brühl x reader #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl imagine #daniel bruhl x you #daniel bruhl x reader #daniel bruhl

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touchtheinvisiblestars · 15 days

Text

"Y/N it's not proper. What does it look like to everyone who sees you gallivanting all day with those amateurs."

"James, you of all people know I'm at work."

"We've spoken about that too. But don't change the topic. When will you see sense and stop acting like some common tart."

"If that's the way you see me following a passion. Maybe we don't know each other as well as we thought."

"Come off it Y/N. Your passion isn't exactly a woman's foray. Don't try and pull the wool over my eyes. I know you've probably just been his three penny upright."

"Fuck you James." You seethed, tears threatening to spill over.

You took off your beautiful engagement ring, and slammed it down onto the table in the hall. Storming over to the front door, you ripped it open and disappeared into the night.

***

Marcus wasn't expecting any visitors, especially not this late. His surprise was evident on his face when he gently unlatched the locks and opened the door to find you. Shivering and teary.

"Y/N how did you get here?" He asked ushering you into the warm hallway.

"Walked. From my place." You chattered out as he grabbed a blanket from next to the fireplace and wrapped you in it.

He guided you to sit in his armchair in front of the slowly dying fire. Kneeling down in front of you.

"Why? You shouldn't be out at this hour. What happened?"

"I'm done with James. He pretty much accused me of being with you behind his back. What did he call me, oh yeah, your 'three penny upright'."

"He what?" Marcus asked incredulously.

"How dare he speak to me like that. Who does he think he is?"

"Clearly a very jealous man. He's lucky I wasn't there."

"I'm not even sad about it. I'm just really angry. I don't have anything to feel guilty about. We haven't done anything!"

"Of course. You-" Marcus was interrupted by a thumping on the door.

You both froze staring at each other. If that was James and he found you here. You may not be guilty, but it sure would look it.

"Y/N are you in there?" James yelled, slurring drunkenly.

"I'll tell him to go away." You whispered as you placed down your teacup and moved to stand up.

Marcus stood up and blocked your path, "wait, he's been drinking. If you answer that and he's in the mood I think he's in, I'll have to get involved and then it's a police matter. I know you care for him and I don't want to risk him doing something he'll regret."

The banging on the door continued. James continued to yell for you.

"I've got your ring. You need to come get it." James laughed, making you feel uneasy.

"But he's going to wake up the whole street."

"Okay, umm, go upstairs to my room and wait until he's gone. If he comes upstairs, lock yourself in the bathroom.

"Okay, what are you going to do?"

"Tell him to piss off really. It's midnight and I have work in the morning."

Shrugging the blanket off you, and quietly making your way upstairs. Trying to make as little noise with your shoes. You waited just outside Marcus' room. Trying to listen. Marcus let out a sigh before approaching the door.

"Where is she?" James spat.

"Where is who Mr. Thompson?"

"Y/N I know she's come here."

"I suggest you try looking for your fiancée in more obvious places. Why would she be here?"

"Don't play coy with me boy. I know what you think of her. Just waiting for the chance to jump on her. She's in here isn't she."

You heard a light scuffle, presumably as James tried to get into the house.

"I'm going to warn you once. Do not try and force yourself into my house. You don't have the authority or the permission to do so."

"I know people Isaacson. Don't think just because you get paid to carry a gun you're safe."

"Don't threaten me Mr Thompson. Go home."

"I know she's in there. Tell her to watch her back."

A few seconds later the door closed, and Marcus sighed from the hallway. You made your way back down the stairs, sitting down a few steps from the bottom.

"That went well. He tried to get in didn't he?"

"Yeah, he's not dealing well with it. But you're safe here. Don't listen to him."

"He does know a lot of people. I'm sorry to drag you into this."

"You don't need to apologise. Let me get you some tea."

"Thank you. I'm so sorry Marcus. I just turned up here. I won't do this again. I promise."

He brushed you off with a smile and disappeared into the kitchen. You took yourself back the the living room in front of the fire. A short while later he returned with two steaming cups of tea. Handing you one. He perched himself on the footstool in front of you.

"You're too kind."

"The spare room is yours if you want it." He offered, taking a sip of tea.

"Thank you. I'd really appreciate it."

"I'm not having you go back to him. He doesn't deserve you."

"He doesn't have me anymore." You held up your now empty ring finger. "I'm done."

#marcus issacson imagine #marcus isaacson x reader #marcus isaacson imagine #marcus isaacson #the alienist

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krazykiki05 · 1 year

Text

The Alienist Drabble:

“Are you absolutely serious!?”

“It was an accident!”

“It better have been!”

The discussion between the five adults was abruptly interrupted once they heard shouting from the kitchen. All the guests look at the owner of the house. It was his ward and servant arguing. Dr. Kriezler sighs before excusing himself to deal with the mess.

“What is such a pressing matter that you two must shout!? We can hear you!” Laszlo chastises, shouting himself. Stevie looks petrified while Cyrus looks pissed. But neither of them speak. “Well?” Cyrus looks at Stevie. Stevie shakes his head to his supposed friend.

“Nothing, Doctor. Just a quarrel.” Stevie mumbles. The Alienist knew he was lying the very moment he took the breath to speak.

“Don’t lie to me Stevie. You two have had quarrels in the past. They have never ended in shouting matches.” Laszlo snaps. “Cyrus. I trust you to tell me the truth.”

“I’m sorry, but it’s not my place to tell, Doctor.” The doctor sighs before turning back to Stevie. If looks could kill, the boy would be dead. And that’s just what prompted him to speak up.

“I...got a girl pregnant.” He says. Cyrus hides his face in his hands while Laszlo sighs and bows his head. Stevie stands there ashamed.

“Are you sure?” Laszlo asks. Stevie nods.

“Yeah. She said she was late, and she looks pretty sick doc.” Laszlo thinks for a moment.

“What does she want? Money? Does she know you’re a ward of a doctor?” Laszlo interrogates.

“No! No. She doesn't want money or anything! She wasn’t going to even tell me until I asked her about her illness. She doesn’t want it, Doc. She doesn’t plan on going through with the pregnancy….” Stevie trails off.

“What do her parents think!?”

“She doesn’t have any. She ran away from them because they were abusive. Been living on the streets for months now.”

“And how old is she?” Cyrus asks.

“15…” Stevie is 17. A pregnant 15 year old, a sharp pang stabs through Dr. Kriezler’s heart. Still a child.

“And the baby...Do you want it, Stevie?” Laszlo asks. Stevie hesitates.

“Would I be a monster to say I don’t want it either?” Laszlo shakes his head no. Stevei was still young. It’s perfectly normal to not want children at this age. Laszlo feels bad for turning a blind eye to a pregnant, homeless, child.

“Bring her here. Now. I want to help her.” Stevie looked hesitant. But nonetheless, he left. Laszlo sighs once more. He and Cryus share a look.

“Was there a problem?” Sara asks once Laszlo returned.

“Yes, and it shall be resolved soon. I hope.” Laszlo answers vaguely. Now, everyone was suspicious.

“If you need to leave, we understand-” John started

“No, no. I am perfectly fine here. Stevie went to fetch someone for me about the problem.” The four people now sensed that the doctor did not want to talk about it anymore, so they continued their police work.

~~~~~

“Please, he wants to help you.”Stevie pleaded.

“Like I said, Stevie, I don’t want anyone’s help.” Regina argued. She continued walking down an alley. Stevie followed.

“Regina! You don’t have to do this alone!” Stevie called. This made the girl stop. Regina spins around.

“I have you, don’t I?”

“It’s not enough-”

“It’s enough for me! You can tell Dr. Kriezler that I said thank you, but no thank you.”

“If I return home without you, he will personally hunt you down himself. And I will help him. That man doesn't take no for an answer when it comes to helping people.” Regina hesitates. She doesn’t think she’ll get far in her condition.

“Stevie, I really don’t want to…” Regina cries. Damn hormones. Stevie comes closer, taking her hands in his.

“I know, Darling. But I promise you, the only outcome that can come out of this, is good. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t trust him with all my might.” The young couple hugged. Regina felt safe in Stevie’s arms. A feeling she hadn’t felt ever before she met him. As long as Stevie is there with her at the doctor’s house, she will be just fine.

~~~~

It wasn’t long before Stevie returned. Over an hour and a half. And the adults were still hard at work, not paying any attention to the time. The door opened, making everyone look up. They all watch as Stevie comes through the door with a girl.

She was sickly. Her skin is a grayish color. Bags under the eyes, cheek bones too prominent for anyone’s liking. “Regina, this is Dr. Kreizler, Doctor, this is-”

“Regina!?” John exclaimed. Regina’s soft smile turned upside down at the sight of her cousin.

“You know this girl?” Laszlo asks. Even if it was evident. John walks closer.

“Yes, she’s...she’s my cousin. A very close one at that.” John answers. Dr. Kriezler studies the girl. The fear on her face, the way she tries to hide behind Stevie, the hand strategically placed on the stomach. “Regina, why are you here? In New York? With Stevie?” John questioned. Regina tries to make up a lie.

“I have my reasons.” She answered. John doesn’t buy it.

“You look sick, are you alright?” Laszlo, looks at the girl, to see what answer she would give. A lie, or the truth.

“I’ve just been under the weather lately.” A white lie.

“Stevie, take Miss Regina to my office, I shall be there shortly.” Laszlo instructs. The couple ran off before John could ask anymore questions.

“Wait, why is she here? Why do you need to see her?” John asks frantically. The doctor calmly turns to his friend.

“Stevie came to me saying he had a friend that needed some help working some issues out. I offered my expertise. I was not aware of who the friend was.” Laszlo hated lying to his friend, but apparently there was a reason. John sighs.

~~~~

Laszlo entered the room to find the couple sitting on the chaise, Regina tucked under Stevie’s arm, her legs over his. But as soon as he entered, they broke apart. “Miss Regina…” Laszlo trails off, searching for a last name.

“Moore. Regina moore.” Regina answers. Laszlo nods and sits down in the chair across from them.

“Stevie has informed me about your...unfortune.” Laszlo starts, being careful to choose his words. Regina avoids his gaze. “And I want to help you. In whichever decision you choose. I’m sure Stevie does also.” Regina nods.

“As I told Stevie many times, Doctor, I do not wish for any help. I am perfectly fine on my own.” Regina states. Kriezler nods with a soft smile.

“I believe you. I do. But, It’s my medical conclusion that this is a situation a very young woman as yourself should not do alone.” Regina takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself. Stevie notices, and places a hand on her back. “Please, let me help you-” A loud banging came from the door.

“I know only one person who knocks like that.” Regina whispers. John. She turns to the Doctor. “Please, he cannot know.” She pleads. Kriezler nods before standing up.

“John! You're interrupting a session!” Laszlo chastises. John opens the door before Laszlo gets a chance too.

“Usually I would apologize when the patient is not my family who is supposed to be in the city over!” John yells, making eye contact with the girl in question. Stevie stands up in front of Regina. John has always felt an overwhelming sense of overprotectiveness when it came to his younger cousin. He remembers his grandmother forcing him to watch her as a baby as she and his aunt and uncle went out for the night. As a toddler, having to chase her around the house. He was one of the few that would play games with her. Outside her own mother. He helped her with her studies as a child. He has always cared for her. That feeling did not let up just because she was growing into a woman.

“John please-” Regina begged.

“Do your parents know you’re here? Did you run away!?” John can be an intimidating man when he needs to be. So intimidating, it broke his cousin.

“Yes.” Regina answered. John was furious. Why would she do such a foolish thing? John strided over to Regina, but was stopped by his friend.

“John, calm down don’t do anything rash-”

“Laszlo stay out of this! This is a family matter!” John pushed past his friend. John yanked his cousin from behind Stevie.

“No!” The young boy yelled. Regina yelped from the painful grip.

“What is going on here!?” A new voice entered the room. Sara’s. Everyone freezes. Sara and the twins now stand in the doorway.

“My cousin ran away from home, so I need to return her.” John answers. Regina lets out a sob.

“Please, John! Please don’t take me back there! They’ll kill me!” Regina sobs. John looks at her. He’s never seen his cousin so petrified.

“They are probably worried sick! They’ll be too grateful to have you safe back home, they’ll forget about being mad.” John argues. Regina shakes her head as tears roll down her cheeks.

“If...If...If they find-IF they find out…” Regina was too scared to finish her sentence.

“Find out what!?”

“She’s pregnant.” Laszlo answers. He couldn’t bear seeing John yell at an innocent girl. His friend looks at him in shock. Eyes wide, mouth hung open, chest heaving. His grip loosens. Regina runs to Stevie’s arms. Stevie holds her securely as his lover cries into his chest.

“Tell me it’s not true.” John asks Regina. “Tell me he’s lying, tell me it’s not true!” He took one look at Stevie, and it all clicked. “Oh, god.” John whispers. Laszlo bows his head.

“John, maybe you should sit down. You look a bit pale.” Sara suggests. John nods, trudging over to a lone chair.

“It’s Stevie’s, John. I asked her to come here so that I could lend my help. She has been living on the streets as of late.” Laszlo explains. John turns a solemn face to Regina.

“How? How? I just visited you mere months ago? Now look at you, away from home. Why?”

“They beat her!” Stevie snaps. Regina holds him tighter. A soft gasp escapes Sara. John shakes his head.

“No. No, I know my Aunt and Uncle they wouldn’t-”

“They did! I guess you don’t know them well enough.” Stevie argues. There was a long standing silence. No one had any words.

“Regina, My name is Sara Howard. A friend of Laszlo, and friend of Stevie. Tell me, how old are you?” Sara speaks, coming closer to her.

“15.” Regina answers. She comes out from Stevies chest, facing the woman. Stevie keeps his arms around his girlfriend’s waist. Sara lightly places a hand to the girl’s cheek.

“You’ve lost your color. Pregnant women are usually glowing.” Sara observes.

“Paleness during pregnancy can be caused by an unfulfilling diet, or an external illness such as flu. I suspect her young age is also an aspect.” Luscious explains. She was living on the street. How fulfilling could her diet be? “If not remedied, she may lose the baby.”

“Then so be it.” Regina mumbles, gaze to the ground. Loudly enough for Sara.

“No, don’t say that.” Sara chastises softly. Regina makes eye contact with her.

“I don’t want this. I’m not ready to be a mother.” Sara’s heart broke from hearing the cracks in her voice. The poor girl was scared for her life. Sara lifts both her hands to hold her face.

“I understand. But wishing death on an innocent thing is not a path you want to walk along. Please, let us help you. Me, Laszlo, your cousin.” Sara asked.

“I will always be here for you. Every step of the way.” Steve adds from behind Regina.

“Let’s make a deal.” Sara starts. Everyone looks at her. “You carry the baby, give birth, and I promise you, by that time, I would have found a loving family that will take the baby in as their own. They don’t have to know anything about the mother.”

Everyone thought it was a good deal. There were plenty of couples who wanted a baby, but couldn’t have one. Sara wouldn’t have a hard time finding a family. Regina nods.

“She shall live here. With Stevie. If that’s okay with you, John.” Laszlo offers. John nods before standing up.

“I would take her in seeing as she’s my family, but I’m sure grandmother would kick her out in an instant.” John agrees.

~~~~

Laszlo had set up a room for her. A guest room she and Stevie would share.

When Stevie entered the room, everyone looked at him. “How is she?” John was the first to speak to the boy.

“Resting. She refused to go to sleep, but I soon convinced her to at least lay down. Didn’t take her long after that.”

“Stevie, you do know. You are going to help the most, right? This is your doing. Being a future father is not easy.” Laszlo warns. Stevie nods. “Do you love her?”

“With all my heart.”

#The Alienist #laszlo #Laszlo Kreizler #laszlo kreizler imagine #john moore #john moore imagine #stevie taggart #stevie taggart imagine #sara howard #sara howard imagine #daniel brühl #luke evans #dakota fanning

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over-active-imagination · 2 years

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Masterlist

My Writings

Daniel Bruhl:

Laszlo Kreizler

The Doctor and the Teacher

A Better Man

Dinner Manners

Ashley Zukerman:

Sheriff Nick Goode

You're New

911 What's Your Emergency? (Part 2)

Joey Batey:

Jaskier

Across the Tavern (Coming soon)

Jensen Ackles:

Dean Winchester

Summer Rain

The Boys Next Door

Jared Padalecki:

Sam Winchester

Raul Esparza:

Frederick Chilton

Family matters

#fluff #the alienist #fanfic #imagine #one shot #dean winchester smut #Witcher #Fandoms #Imagines #Stories #Supernatural #SPN #Fear Street #Marvel

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gemstone-roses · 2 years

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Multifandom masterlist

Note all my works are 18 plus and contain potentially triggering material and adult content.at the moment i no longer write for any of these fandoms.

Law and order special victims unit

Criminal minds

Teen wolf

Divergent, bridergton, the good doctor, the alienist.

#law and order svu imagine #the alienist imagine #the good doctor fanfiction #teen wolf imagine #criminal minds imagine

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supercalifragipopculturevomit · 7 months

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THE BEST OF DANIEL BRÜHL

It’s dumb, honestly.

You get this seemingly brilliant idea of turning to foreign films so you’re forced to read subtitles and focus—a problem you’ve been noticing of late—but in doing so, you end up with a more destructive distraction.

“Who’s that guy, again? The one in all those international productions?” That’s how I found myself on my Daniel Brühl marathon-turned-obsession.

It was his role as the cute Nazi in Inglorious Basterds that first put him on my radar. Over the years, I would see him in The Fifth Estate, Burnt, Woman in Gold, The Zookeeper’s Wife, and The King’s Man. Midway through All Quiet on the Western Front, I was like, “All this needs is that German actor…” and I had to chuckle when he later appeared on screen. I also checked out the first season of The Alienist because I was intrigued by what he and Dakota Fanning as leads would do with such a spooky-looking show.

Adorable as he was in his breakout role in Good Bye, Lenin!, it was his performance in the critically-acclaimed Rush that caused me to spiral. Similar to when Benedict Cumberbatch took on the modern version of Sherlock, it was like seeing Brühl with new eyes. His playful take on Helmut Zemo in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier was the final nail in the coffin. I don’t imagine it’s all too different from what Tom Hiddleston did to fans of Marvel as Loki.

I’m actually at the tail-end of this obsession now that I’ve seen everything I can get a hold of—around 39 films, two TV shows, a documentary, a music video, countless interviews, a bunch of ads, and a handful of fan cuts—but he has a lot of works worth recommending so I thought I would share them on here. This will mostly be a subjective list with priority on projects I found most interesting which showcase his range best. Like, I enjoyed The Bourne Ultimatum but he was on screen for a total of 2 minutes so I wouldn’t include that here.

RUSH (2013) This biographical sports film written by Peter Morgan—the man behind The Crown—centers on the rivalry between Formula One drivers James Hunt and Niki Lauda in the 70s. Not a fan of F1 or sports in general. I have nothing against either, just zero interest. But this character-driven film, much like Ford vs Ferrari, had me at the edge of my seat the entire ride. And it surprisingly has one of the best meet-cutes—and accidental wingmen—I’ve seen yet.

Brühl delivers an Oscar-worthy performance in this role. For someone who needed a lot of convincing he could do the character justice, he truly went above and beyond. For one, he befriended and studied Lauda, the iconic F1 figure he was portraying. No easy feat considering Lauda being, well… Lauda. In interviews, Brühl recounts the story of the memorable invite he got from Lauda to meet in Vienna. This would be their first meeting and Lauda told Brühl outright that he should only bring hand luggage so he can piss off if they don’t like each other.

He would end up staying a few days and buying additional clothes.

He also spent a month in Vienna to nail the accent, making sure to capture the arrogance and irony innate to it. And although he got driver training for the role, he also considered the tiniest details like which went on first: helmet or gloves? There was also the tricky business of looking graceful entering a tiny F1 car—a bigger challenge for Chris Hemsworth who plays Hunt—but an obstacle all the same.

All the hard work paid off. It was well-received by audiences, critics, and the F1 world. The first time Lauda saw the film he went, “Holy shit, that’s really me”. Lauda’s friends thought he did voiceover work for it. Director Ron Howard was so pleased with Brühl’s performance that he went out of his way to show an unfinished cut of the movie to the producers of The Fifth Estate (2013). This gracious act would land Brühl the co-lead role opposite Benedict Cumberbatch.

GOOD BYE, LENIN! (2003) Can't tell if it's just because the two films have the same composer and were created around the same time, but this tragicomedy set in East Germany reminded me so much of my beloved Amélie. This is definitely more dramatic and political but it has that same mix of whimsy, heart, and charm. With its budget, it was meant to be an indie film, but the story of a son who would recreate a faux-socialist world to keep his mother alive captured the heartstrings of audiences, not just in Germany but also worldwide. Brühl plays the son and his success with this film was a double-edged sword: although it would open doors for him internationally, he would also be typecast as the “nice guy” in his home country.

INGLORIOUS BASTERDS (2009) This has one of the best, most intense opening sequences in all of cinema… and one of the greatest villains. In this wild alternate universe from Quentin Tarantino, he rewrites the ending of World War II. It’s the right balance of dark, hilarious, and entertaining—my favorite from the auteur’s works. Here Brühl plays a cute and charming Nazi, which is very confusing to the senses.

Aside from Brühl, it was also my first introduction to Christoph Waltz, Michael Fassbender, and Melanie Laurent—all fantastic European actors who’ve crossed over to Hollywood after the success of this movie. “Crossing over” seems ubiquitous now but, at that time, giving most of the lead roles to then relatively unknown actors must have been a risk. But for this, it was necessary. Language plays a huge part in this trilingual film and casting native speakers grounded it in authenticity. Tarantino originally had Leonardo di Caprio in mind to play Hans Landa. Whether he meant for him to learn German or to speak English with a German accent, who knows. Either way, it’s safe to say that would have been a different film.

THE EDUKATORS / DIE FETTEN JAHRE SIND VORBEI (2004) This anti-capitalist film, which has become a cult classic, captures the spirit, idealism, recklessness, and angst of young revolutionaries who just want a better world. Where one stands on the measures taken, or even their sentiment, can be considered a litmus test. With or without reference to this quote from the movie—“Under 30 and not liberal, no heart. Over 30 and still liberal, no brain.”—is up to the viewer.

There needs to be a suspension of disbelief for the series of events that takes place but the setting is necessary for the clash of worlds to happen. It’s not a perfect movie but the issues they debate about in length… they’re still discussions we’re having nearly 20 years later.

p.s. this has my favorite behind-the-scenes of all of Brühl’s projects. Though he hasn’t lost his sense of humor, he seems to have become more reserved as he got older. HERE, at this period in his life, he’s a total goofball bordering on loose cannon.

THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER (2021) Though I’ve enjoyed quite a few MCU movies, I’m not invested in the universe at all, so watching this wasn’t a priority. In fact, I was ready to settle on YouTube compilations made by devoted fans of all the scenes Brühl was in. Upon seeing clips, however, I got intrigued by his character so I still ended up watching the miniseries and also Captain America: Civil War (2016).

Both were better than I expected. Civil War is more serious, while TFATWS is more playful, but both face relevant issues along with formidable foes. Brühl’s villain in Helmut Zemo is fascinating because he tears the mighty Avengers apart with mere patience, fury, and intelligence… and his motivations are understandable. He lets his character loose in TFATWS—at one point, on the dance floor—and it’s magnificent. His mission is still the same, but this time he does it with a lot of charm, humor, and fabulous Sokovian style. A Turkish delight, personified.

ME AND KAMINSKI / ICH UND KAMINSKI (2015) Brühl’s Sebastian Zöllner is a repulsive and sleazy journalist who has greasy hair and wears too much cologne but I can’t get enough of his chaotic energy. His magnum opus is hitched on a legendary artist dying and his fantasy is to turn the orphaned daughter into a sugar mommy. It’s all kinds of messed up but he plays the hell out of the smarmy dirtbag so it’s a lot of fun. This is Brühl’s second collaboration with Wolfgang Becker, who directed Good Bye, Lenin! Daniel Kehlmann, the writer whose eponymous book this film was based on, would later write Brühl’s directorial debut, Nebenan.

NO REGRETS / NICHTS BEUREUEN (2001) This is reminiscent of the slightly problematic but highly enjoyable teen comedies and coming-of-age films of the 90s. It’s like an edgier Can’t Hardly Wait: boy goes through cringe-worthy measures to get the girl he’s long been pining for, his two closest pals have nothing but dumb advice to offer, yet he still ends up on the path to self-discovery. It’s awkward, chaotic, frustrating, and beautiful—but such is adolescence.

Brühl and his co-star Jessica Schwarz fall in love on the set of this film. And although they would break up years later, the tenderness between their scenes together is palpable and there’s something rather bittersweet about seeing that captured in perpetuity.

For a more straightforward rom-com, he has Lila, Lila (2009). It’s about a guy who passes off a manuscript as his own to impress a girl and the hilarity that follows. It’s on YouTube for those who need a fun and light watch.

THE ALIENIST (2018 – 2020) Based on the novel of the same name, this moody psychological thriller set in late 19th century New York follows a psychiatrist—then called an Alienist—who investigates a series of grisly murders with methods still considered new and controversial at that time, such as psychology and fingerprinting. He gets by with a little help from his friends, John Moore, an illustrator for the New York Times, and Sara Howard, a society woman who works in the NYPD.

In the lead role of Dr. Laszlo Kreizler, Brühl plays the dark, complex, and mysterious Alienist whose study of mental pathologies and deviant behaviors reveals much of himself and his past.

LESSONS OF A DREAM / DER GANZ GROßE TRAUM (2011) This film is loosely based on Konrad Koch, an educator and pioneer who brought football to Germany in the late 19th century. In the movie, the sport is used as a means to pique students’ interest in the English language and culture—both considered barbaric by the Germans at that time. A heartwarming tale of a teacher who overcomes insurmountable odds and inspires students along the way, it’s the German equivalent of Dead Poet’s Society.

ALL QUIET ON THE WESTERN FRONT (2022) This story, the third adaptation of the 1929 novel, “Im Westen nichts Neues”, conveys the futility of war like no other. There aren't as many films on World War I as there are on World War II, fewer ones that tell it from a German perspective, so this is doubly unique in that regard. Powerful watch but 10/10 not like to relive it again. Apart from producing it with his company, Amusement Park, Brühl plays Matthias Erzberger, the German State Secretary who pushes for armistice talks with the Allied forces.

An ideal companion watch to this would be Joyeux Noël / Merry Christmas (2005), another WWI movie Brühl stars in, which depicts the unbelievable Christmas truce between French, German, and Scottish soldiers in 1914. His linguistic ability shines here as he shifts between German, French, and English effortlessly. (Half German, half Spanish, Brühl speaks a total of five languages: those three plus Spanish and Catalan.)

The Zookeeper’s Wife (2017) and Alone in Berlin (2016) also recognize the bravery of defiance at the height of tyrannical regimes. Although between the two, I would skip the latter.

JOHN RABE (2009) This biographical film set in China tells the incredible true story of a German businessman who uses his Nazi Party membership to create an International Safety Zone in Nanking. This was in the late 1930s, during the Rape of Nanjing. In this six-week carnage by the Imperial Japanese Army—which includes sexual assault, mutilations, and killing contests—upwards of 200,000 Chinese are brutally murdered. The protective zone manages to save around the same number of civilians.

Brühl doesn’t play the titular Rabe, but his character, Dr. Georg Rosen, is one of few Westerners who decides to remain and protect Nanking even as conflict escalates. Dr. Rosen was a German Diplomat instrumental in the creation of the safety zone.

p.s. with all these heroic roles in his catalog, I’m convinced Brühl would be a frontrunner to play President Volodymyr Zelenskyy, should a movie be made about him and Ukraine’s conflict with Russia. You heard it here first.

NEXT DOOR / NEBENAN (2021) This is Brühl’s directorial debut. Here he plays a darker, fictionalized version of himself. Definitely not for everyone but quite enjoyable if you’re familiar with his major works and public persona, appreciate the ingenuity of one-location movies, and delight in British-style meta humor.

Pre-requisite viewing for maximum enjoyment: Good Bye, Lenin!, Captain America: Civil War, and The Falcon and the Winter Soldier.

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bonbalaur · 9 days

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Returning back to painting bit by bit. I am still thinking hard about @fleshtonyart Alienist vampire!au, but tbh lately I havent been in a mood for sadboi gothic vampyres… Rather was quite hard leaning into angry baroque feral monsters (imagining what w∆r cr|m€s they could commit to enemies of my people, let the girl dream for a bit after yet another week of "great news"). Also practiced with unusual (for me) portrait lighting+colors. Not sure I'm totally pleased, but it's also part of the process - accepting the end result and still letting myself enjoy the process and acknowledge it as a small victory.

#zemo #vampire #ukrainianart #danielbrühl #украрт #украртпідтримка #арткозацтво #земо #баронземо #baronzemo #укртумбочка #український тамблер #українськафанхата #ukrainian art #ukrart #baron helmut zemo #helmut zemo #baron zemo #Spotify

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philosopher-blog · 2 months

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تعكس إنماط الاحتجاج - الصوفية، والفوضوية، والراديكالية - تنوع الايقاعات والمظاهر التي يمكن أن يتخذها الاحتجاج ضد النظم السائدة. إنها تعبر عن تعبيرات مختلفة للاحتقان ��الانزعاج تجاه الواقع الاجتماعي والسياسي، وتعكس الرغبة في تغيير جوهري وعميق في النظام والمجتمع. تحمل هذه الأنماط رفضًا رومانسيًا للأنظمة القائمة وتسعى إلى إحداث تحول جذري في الحقيقة الاجتماعية والإنسانية.

الرفض الراديكالي يرمز إلى رفض أي تهدئة مع الأنظمة القائمة ويسعى إلى بناء نظام اجتماعي جديد يتمتع بديمقراطية مطلقة، بينما يحلم الفضويون بحرية مطلقة في عالم من إبداعهم الخيالي، يتحرر فيه الإنسان من قيود الثقافة التقليدية. ومن ناحية أخرى، ينسحب الصوفيون إلى الداخل الذاتي، حيث يسعون للتحقق من الحقيقة المطلقة والمعنى الأخير. كل هذه الأنماط تعبر عن احتجاج عميق وتأمل فلسفي في الإنسان ودوره في مواجهة الواقع الاجتماعي.

إن إدراك الواقع ونقده هو أمر ضروري وصحي في أي مجتمع. إن الحاجة الطبيعية للإنسان للتوازن بين التجربة الفردية والوعي الثقافي والاجتماعي هي جوهرية لاستمرار التطور الإنساني والاجتماعي. تجلب الثقافة الاجتماعية المعاصرة والقوى السيطرة الآلية والمؤسسات، التي يمكن أن تكون مستقلة وغامضة بالنسبة للفرد، تحديات جديدة لهذا التوازن. إن الفرد الذي يفقد الاتصال الحقيقي مع نفسه ومع المجتمع من حوله، يواجه مراراً وتكرارًا الشعور بالانعزال والفقدان.

في المجتمعات المعاصرة، يبدو الفرد وكأنه تحت تأثير قوى التحكم الاجتماعية المستقلة، مما يجعل من الصعب عليه فهم الطبيعة الحقيقية لتلك القوى. يبدو المجتمع نفسه بمثابة هيكل مجرد يفتقد المعاني الدقيقة ويتحول لشكل بيروقراطي دون مرونة أو حيوية. ينعزل الفرد بشكل متزايد عن هذا الواقع المجرد ويتجه نحو عالمه الداخلي الفردي، حيث يميل إلى العثور على الحقيقة المطلقة والمعنى النهائي.

هذا التناقض بين الفرد والمجتمع، وبين الواقع الفردي والثقافي الاجتماعي، يطرح تحديات فريدة على الفرد مما يجعله يميل إلى الانسحاب إلى عالمه الذاتي. ومع ذلك، قد يجد الفرد الطريق إلى التوازن بين الحاجات الفردية والاجتماعية من خلال توجيه اهتماماته وجهوده نحو تحقيق التوازن والتناغم بين هاتين الجانبين.

بمواجهة هذه التحديات، يكون المجتمع بحاجة إلى التفكير النقدي والحوار المستمر حول كيفية تحقيق التوازن بين الحقيقة الفردية والثقافية الاجتماعية. إن هذا الحوار يمكن أن يسهم في تجديد العقلية الاجتماعية وفتح المجال لإيجاد حلول إيجابية ومستدامة للتحديات التي تواجه الفرد والمجتمع. إذا تمكن المجتمع من إيجاد التوازن بين الفرد والمجتمع وبين الحقيقة الفردية والثقافية الاجتماعية، فإنه يمكنه تحقيق التقدم والتطور بشكل أفضل وأكثر استدامة.

The styles of protest - Sufi, anarchist, and radical - reflect the diversity of rhythms and manifestations that protest against prevailing regimes can take. They express various expressions of congestion and discomfort towards social and political reality, and reflect the desire for a fundamental and profound change in the system and society. These styles carry a romantic rejection of existing systems and seek a radical transformation of social and human reality.

Radical rejection symbolizes the rejection of any appeasement with existing regimes and seeks to build a new social order that enjoys absolute democracy, while alienists dream of absolute freedom in a world of their imaginative creativity, in which man is free from the constraints of traditional culture. Sufis, on the other hand, withdraw inward, where they seek to verify ultimate truth and ultimate meaning. All of these patterns express a deep protest and philosophical reflection on man and his role in confronting social reality.

Recognizing and criticizing reality is necessary and healthy in any society. The natural human need to balance individual experience and cultural and social awareness is fundamental to continued human and social development. Contemporary social culture and the forces of mechanistic control and institutions, which can be autonomous and ambiguous to the individual, bring new challenges to this balance. An individual who loses true contact with himself and with the community around him is repeatedly faced with feelings of isolation and loss.

In contemporary societies, the individual appears to be under the influence of independent social control forces, which makes it difficult for him to understand the true nature of those forces. Society itself appears as an abstract structure that lacks precise meanings and turns into a bureaucratic form without flexibility or vitality. The individual increasingly isolates himself from this abstract reality and turns towards his individual inner world, where he tends to find absolute truth and ultimate meaning.

This contradiction between the individual and society, and between individual and social cultural reality, poses unique challenges to the individual, making him tend to withdraw into his own world. However, the individual may find the way to balance between individual and social needs by directing his interests and efforts towards achieving balance and harmony between these two aspects.

Facing these challenges, society needs critical thinking and continuous dialogue on how to achieve a balance between individual and social cultural truth. This dialogue can contribute to renewing the social mentality and opening the way for finding positive and sustainable solutions to the challenges facing the individual and society. If society can find a balance between the individual and society and between individual and social cultural truth, it can achieve better and more sustainable progress and development.

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thefisherqueen · 4 months

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“It is certainly a very curious and suggestive case. What do you think, Watson?” “Speaking as a medical man,” said I, “it appears to be a case for an alienist. The old gentleman's cerebral processes were disturbed by the love affair. He made a journey abroad in the hope of breaking himself of the passion.

Delighted by Watson's theory. Imagine asking friend about the status of their dating life by going, "And, any cerebral processes disturbed by love affairs lately?"

I do have a theory now, however. The professor's very young fiancee (I can not repeat that enough, not going to normalise that) is the daughter of an anatomical professor. Did he bring her some animal from very far away as a wedding gift? A small monkey maybe? Either the animal or something related to it could be in the wooden box. And of course the dog would be disturbed by it. The creeping could be the professor trying to teach it how to move? Which implies that is a baby monkey

#letters from watson #sherlock holmes #the creeping man #it's wild lol but at least I have a theory

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deepdwellingsteamboat · 3 months

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What a beautiful and cryptic list. Are they all winterbaron? Anyway, I'll try my luck with that Dishonoured Laszky fic 😅

This isn't the only Dishonored Laszky fic I'm trying to write, but the first one (Plague's Possession)… It's the saddest, most depressing thing you can imagine. Let's not talk about it, or I'll start crying.

Tyvian Red (Dishonored Laszky) It's a Marvel | The Alienist | Dishonored crossover. It barely exists (unlike Plague's Possession, but again, let's NOT talk about that one).

It follows the plot of the first Dishonored game, but with Bucky and Laszlo shoehorned in for no reason.

Things I know about this fic (there's not much yet):

Bucky is a member of the Bottle Street Gang, Laszlo is a natural philosopher.

A bottle of Tyvian Red (it's wine) plays an important role.

Bucky and Laszlo meet at the Hound Pits Pub before the Plague, and Bucky TRIES to flirt.

Laszlo gets briefly kidnapped because Bucky misunderstands what his boss wants.

Laszlo gives relationship advice to a god.

There's a happy ending.

Like I said, not much 👉👈

#asks #wip game #will i ever come up with a tag i wonder

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mlmxreader · 2 years

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Tease | Laszlo Kreizler x gn!reader (🍋-ish)

Anonymous asked: seal anon- back on my bullshit

"Here, I'll teach you"- laszlo maybe some doctor or daddy kink plz

summary: Laszlo comes to stay with you while he’s on a break from work, and while at first everything is fine, certain desires do tend to get in the way.

tws: Daddy kink, dom/sub, swearing, mentions of collars/leads, mentions of handcuffs, mentions of rope, mentions of praise kink if you SQUINT

word count: 1000

MINORS DNI

Laszlo thankfully wasn’t working, for once, he had a little time off for himself and he could actually relax; there were no murderers on the loose to torment him, there were no cases to be solved, and the majority of his patients were more than looked after by the staff. He had been begged to take a break, practically forced to, and although at first he was bored and he was struggling to find anything to keep his mind busy, he soon turned to you; his dashing and handsome partner. He found himself spending more and more time with you, more than making up for the time that had been lost between him helping others and the cases he was involved in, he practically moved in with you temporarily. Your bedsheets soon started to smell like him, and his presence around the house was more than welcomed; sitting with him in the evenings, your head in his lap as he read one of your books, cooking together in the afternoons, with him often telling you to add one thing or to avoid using another, long walks together in the morning through the woods, with you more often than not stopping in your tracks to observe a fox or a deer in the distance. It was more than a welcomed occurrence, more than a comforting time together.

But Laszlo wouldn’t stay so domestically sweet forever, and you were counting down the hours until he would treat you how he usually did; the more dominant side coming out of him one bit at a time. You were more than excited for what was going to eventually happen, hoping that he had brought over the handcuffs, the collar, the lead, and the rope; you did your best to behave, to be good in hopes that he would reward you one way or another, but you also knew that his punishments were also so fucking good, and you couldn’t help but to act up just a little bit.

It was fairly late, around twenty to ten at night, and you and Laszlo were doing your usual; he was sat in the chair in the corner with the lamp on, reading through his current book and waiting for you to hurry up with the laundry so that he could move onto the sofa and you would put your head in his lap as you kicked your feet up on the leather arm and settled down for the night. He was waiting, looking up every now and then when you walked past the room with an armful of washing, although he had a feeling that the little routine would be shattered into a million pieces; he kept reading, and when you settled down on the chair at the opposite side of the room, he put the book down, and tilted his head to the side as he looked at you.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” you said with a shrug, looking at him with those big puppy dog eyes that you knew he could never and would never refuse. “I was just thinking about how awfully I’ve been good recently.”

Laszlo furrowed his brows a little, looking at you with that hungry gaze that always came to his big brown eyes when he knew that you were about to start acting up, when he knew that you were about to start being a tease. “Don’t start that with me now, nyuszi.”

You scratched at the back of your neck, tilting your head and looking at him with as much innocence and ignorance as you could muster. “I’m not sure what you mean, Daddy.”

His jaw clenched, and he clicked his fingers. “Here. Now.”

You smiled, a little smug as you made your way over to him, and straddled his lap, your breath hitching when he placed his hand at the bottom of your throat. “What?”

“I told you not to start,” he said lowly, his voice hardly even a growl as he kept his dark brown eyes on you, keeping you pinned where you were as he shook his head. “If you’re good, you know I’ll reward you later.”

You pouted a little. “Yeah, about that… I don’t think I can wait until later.”

Laszlo scoffed, biting down on the inside of his bottom lip as he let out a harsh sigh. “So you’re going to start being a brat? Is that it?”

“Well, technically, no,” you started, “first of all, it’s my house, so… my rules.”

Laszlo couldn’t help but to laugh a little, swiping his hand down his face when he let go of your throat. He nodded. “Of course, where are my apologies? Would you like to be the dominant one when we… when we go to bed, too?” He laughed again. “Here, I’ll teach you if you want.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Daddy, you know that’s not what I mean. Don’t be a fucking dick.”

He shifted his hips, just enough so that you could feel him and you would let out a soft whimper of need. “Don’t be a brat.”

“I’m not the one acting like-”

He moved his hips again to shut you up, and although you tried not to for the sake of playing fair, you ground down against him, drawing a shuddering growl from the back of his throat. “You were saying?”

“Can we go upstairs?” You asked quietly, swallowing thickly. “Please, Daddy? I promise I’ll be good if we do…”

Laszlo considered it for a moment, thinking about the things he could ask you if you wanted, thinking of how he could possibly use it as an excuse to thank you for letting him stay with you, and although a thousand and one things crossed his mind, he narrowed it down to what he knew were your favourites; even if you were teasing him a little, if you were playing a little game, he couldn’t resist the opportunity to praise and reward you. “Alright, come on.”

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - do not just leave a "like", REBLOG IT. you may also leave feedback in the form of asks, tags, etc which is greatly appreciated, but you SHOULD reblog it regardless.

#mlem writes #laszlo kreizler x reader #dr laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler #The Alienist #the alienist imagine #daniel bruhl imagine #daniel bruhl x you #daniel bruhl x reader #daniel bruhl #daniel brühl imagine #daniel brühl x reader #Daniel Brühl

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