#the alienist fanfiction

[lorna-d-m]

Gingerbread

Word Count: 4,870

Rating: E

Warning: wine drinking, swearing, breast play, some dry humping

Author's Note: happy thanksgiving! Now that it's passed I can officially say: Merry Christmas y'all! Timeline wise, this takes place between chapters six and seven.

Alice missed the days of elementary school when the last day before winter break was reserved for nostalgic movies, hot chocolate, and wearing your pajamas to school. Instead, students completed their end-of-term exams. Instead of relaxing, kicking up her feet and putting on a movie, she graded first periods’ exams during second, and so on and so on. Those who finished before the end of the period could read or study for another exam. 

Stevie approached her desk, and she looked up assuming he had a question about the exam. Instead, he handed her a small envelope and whispered so quietly she could hardly hear him, “Merry Christmas, Ms. Greene”. Stevie turned on his heels and returned to his desk.

Curiosity piqued, Alice examined the envelope. She would recognize Stevie’s handwriting, so she assumed it must be Laszlo who scrawled her name on the front of the envelope. Alice noted the fancy stationery: the thick off-white envelope with a red wax seal. 

It was a simple but elegant Christmas card depicting a winter scene. Before she read it, she looked at the gift card tucked inside. It was for her favorite coffee chain and $15, plenty for two drinks or a drink and a snack. Inside the card, Laszlo wrote a brief thank you, Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays. He signed, as well as Stevie. 

Stevie watched her open the card. Not wanting to distract any students or draw too much attention, Alice mouthed thank you to him. She wondered if any other of Stevie’s teachers received a card. When she checked her phone at lunch, Bits answered her question. 

Nice Christmas gifts from the good doc 🎄🎁 I’m assuming you’ll get more than a card from him? 😏😉

Alice chuckled, knowing all the innuendos Bitsy meant with a simple wink and smirk emoji combination. They made plans for Saturday when Stevie was supposed to be hanging out at a friend’s house.

Oh hush you 🤫A lady doesn’t kiss and tell

She went back to grading, worrying if the gifts she bought him were enough. Saying he was difficult to shop for felt like a lame excuse, but Alice couldn’t think of anything else to get him. Unless… well she supposed it was more of a purchase for her, but he would certainly appreciate it.

Laszlo deliberated for two days about what to cook for dinner. It was not his first time cooking for Alice, but it was his first time in his kitchen amongst all his tools and familiarity. The expectations were higher. He wanted to do something delicious for her, showing her how much he cared for her. Once decided, he went to the markets in the morning. It was his guilty pleasure. Laszlo enjoyed carefully perusing all his options and leisurely strolling around. He could never stick to a list; he always bought things he didn’t need but decided at the moment he wanted. 

He returned, carefully holding a brown paper grocery bag to his chest. Stevie stood over the stove, cooking a late-morning breakfast of eggs and toast. Laszlo had to tease him as he slipped into a winter break sleep schedule. 

“Good morning. Any later and I would tell you good afternoon.” 

“Ha ha,” Stevie laughed dryly. “I’ve never heard that one before.” 

Laszlo unpacked his groceries and handed a party-size bag of chips to Stevie. “For tonight,” Laszlo thought it rude to go to someone’s house emptyhanded. “Do you need a ride or is Jake picking you up?”

“He said he’d pick me up at like four, and then…” Stevie trailed off, but Laszlo waited expectedly. “I was going to ask you how late I could stay.”

Curfew was, Laszlo didn’t like to call it a debate, but a matter of discussion. On school nights Laszlo stuck to 9:30, wanting Stevie home at a reasonable time. On weekends, however, he was more flexible. So long as Stevie was transparent about his plans, telling him where he wanted to go and who he would be with, Laszlo was willing to adjust the time. 

Laszlo trusted Stevie and he had yet to disappoint him, but for emergencies and peace of mind, they had each other’s location shared on their phones. It went both ways, Laszlo could see if Stevie was at school, home, or a friend’s house, and Stevie could see if he was at the university, the Institute, the police station, or the courts. As a show of faith, Laszlo told him he would only check if he had a legitimate concern or cause. He had yet to check, knock on wood. 

And of course, if Laszlo coincidentally had plans with Alice the same night, then perhaps Stevie could stay with his friends a bit longer.

“That depends,” Laszlo huffed a sigh in thought, “Will he be dropping you off, or will I pick you up?” 

Stevie didn’t bother to plate his food or sit at the table. He stood at the counter, scooping the scrambled eggs onto a piece of sourdough toast with his wooden spoon. At least he didn’t create many dishes… Stevie answered with a mouthful, “He can drop me off.” 

Perfect. “How does eleven sound then? Take it as an early Christmas present.” Then Laszlo could enjoy more time with Alice. “And text me when you’re on your way back.” That way they had a reminder when she needed to leave. 

“Thanks!” Stevie was a quick eater, a result of his childhood, and already he finished his breakfast. After cleaning the few dishes he used, he went back to his room.

Alice pressed her lips into a thin line in focus. It was an unconscious habit as she piped details on gingerbread cookies in royal icing: delicate buttons to the little men, twinkling lights on the trees, and fine lines on the snowflakes. Flour and icing smeared her cheek and dusted her clothes, and she was sweating from the residual heat of the oven. 

The timer on her phone startled her, making her smear the line of the snowflake. She cursed and set the cookie aside. Alice didn’t want to give Laszlo an ugly cookie. And, she sighed while brushing away an errant lock of hair, she didn’t want to look like an ugly cookie either. The timer reminded her to step back and start getting ready.

After hearing Laszlo had no Christmas plans, other than little celebrations with Stevie since John and Sara were on a much-needed vacation, Alice wanted to make sure their night was perfect. She debated what to wear, settling on a red low-cut sweater and a tight skirt. Classic, but enticing, and she could show off one of her gifts for Laszlo.

***

Alice parked on the street and waited in her toasty car. It was her first time visiting Laszlo’s house. She pulled out her phone, and rather than text Laszlo that she arrived, she typed a message for Bitsy.

Oh shit. He’s rich rich 💰

Bitsy responded quickly. oh??? 👀👀That’s good because you need to marry rich you’re a teacher

She took a picture of the front of the brownstone house and sent it. That should tell Bitsy all she needed to know. Then, she texted Laszlo that she had arrived. Taking a deep breath in, she left the coziness of her car and braved the cold night air. 

The front door was off street level; it was up a set of stairs. Alice was careful, her hand gliding over the railing as she ascended them. The last thing she wanted was to slip on icy steps: embarrassing herself and ruining her hard work that afternoon or Laszlo’s gifts. Before she could knock on the old brass knocker or ring the decorative doorbell, Laszlo opened the door. 

He radiated warmth, and not just because of the heat escaping the house. Laszlo wore a white apron over his clothes, a lock of hair fell across his forehead, his sleeve was rolled up, and he smelled like the delicious food he cooked. It made Alice’s stomach growl and her heart flutter. 

“Please, come in. You can put your coat there,” he gestured to a coat rack in the corner of the vestibule and took the platter of cookies from her hands, “and I can take these to the kitchen.”

He had a vestibule and a foyer beyond that. Alice knew he had money, but she did not realize how much until she saw his home. She shed her coat, and she caught Laszlo’s eyes appreciating the neckline of her sweater just as she intended. 

“I’m afraid I haven’t quite finished, but please, feel free to wait in the parlor and nibble on the cheese board while I return downstairs.”

“Your kitchen is downstairs?” Alice almost asked “you have a parlor?” but that was a less pressing matter.

Laszlo chuckled. “Yes, it’s an old house, so the garage, kitchen, and ironically Stevie’s room are all street level. I promise I won’t be long.”

“Good,” she pressed a kiss to his cheek, “I’m hungry and I’ll miss you.” 

His cheeks flushed, and he kissed her properly. “Then I won’t keep you waiting.” He disappeared down the stairs, readjusting the apron tied around his waist. Alice admired his ass as he left. 

Alice did as Laszlo suggested and wandered to the parlor. She nibbled on a cracker with brie and thinly sliced apple while she surveyed the room. A heavy, ornate fireplace warmed the room, and she relished its heat. Her sweater and skirt did little to keep her warm. Alice noticed there were no pictures on the mantle, just a television mounted on the wall. It was one of the fancy ones disguised as a landscape painting, complete with a gilded frame. 

Two bookshelves bookended the fireplace, and Alice skimmed through the titles. Some she recognized, like classic novels, whereas the psychological essays and journals were far from her realm of familiarity. Where did he find the time to read, she mused. A record player nestled in the corner, made to look like a vintage gramophone, filled the room with traditional Christmas music. Alice hummed along to the familiar song. Laszlo was a maximalist, filling his home with as much as he could in his eclectic style.

Alice heard footsteps coming up the stairs, so she went to the formal dining room. As she wondered how often Laszlo and Stevie ate there, he answered her silent question.

“We rarely use it, but I wanted tonight to be special.” 

“Please, let me help you,” she offered. Laszlo held a heavy tray laden with plates and bowls with one hand.

“There’s no need,” he insisted, setting it on the table.  “It’s part of why we don’t use the dining room very often.”

“I can imagine, but it looks lovely, Laszlo.” He dressed up the space with formal dinnerware and linens. He lit a candelabra on the table, and pitchers of water and bottles of wine waited to be poured. 

“Thank you.” He blushed again, clearly unused to praise. Alice wanted to make the tinge of pink darker. 

“You’ve put in so much effort, and I appreciate it. You’ve made tonight special and memorable, and we’ve barely begun.” 

Laszlo returned downstairs for the rest of the meal, and Alice stole a glance at what he brought up already. A basket of dinner rolls, small bowls of soup, and salads. This was meant to be the appetizer, and she wondered eagerly what the main course could be. With perfect timing, he brought the entrée: roasted vegetables, seared duck breast with a red wine sauce, and creamy mashed potatoes. 

Once everything was settled on the table, Laszlo could settle himself. He removed his apron revealing a white button-up and a Christmas-themed waistcoat: dark green with white detailing and gold buttons. Laszlo pulled out her seat for her, and then he poured them both a glass of water and a glass of red wine.  

“Please, enjoy. There’s plenty.” He offered her the basket of warm dinner rolls glistening with butter.

Laszlo was an excellent cook, and she was excited to try it. He waited until she tasted it and smiled before he ate anything.  

Over dinner, they reminisced on past Christmases: best presents, worst presents, family drama, vacations. Alice thought long and hard about the best present she ever received and decided it must have been when she got a Barbie dreamhouse. She knew what it was as soon as she saw the gigantic wrapped box by the tree, but her parents made her wait until the end to unwrap it. Laszlo smiled saying he had something similar happen when his parents bought the baby grand piano for the parlor.

“Do you play?” She noticed it, but the keys were covered and the music books were nowhere in sight. If he did, he left no clues. 

“No,” he frowned, “not since I was a young boy.”

Alice didn’t want to upset him, so she did not press it. She found it odd since he was the one who mentioned the piano, to begin with, but this was a happy night. From then on, Laszlo was more inclined to listen to her than share his memories. 

Alice insisted upon helping him clean up after the meal, and Laszlo found it hard to refuse her. He enjoyed simply being near her, and he admitted it was easier with an extra set of hands. Laszlo rinsed the dishes from dinner while Alice unloaded the dishwasher. 

“I wasn’t sure about making Christmas cookies,” Alice confessed.

Laszlo raised an eyebrow in playful alarm. “Why ever not? Your cookies are delectable.”

“I don’t want you to think I’m a one trick pony. You’ve had my cookies before at open house and the conferences, so I thought I should show you something new.”

“But they’re delicious, and I presume gingerbread to fit the season. I’ve not tasted those.”

“Which is why I went with it. You can really only do gingerbread this time of year. But I think next time, I’ll make something totally different.”

“I look forward to it.” Since his hands were covered with soapy water, he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Speaking of dessert, do you want it now or do you want to wait?”

Alice smirked. “Well, if dessert is a real kiss, I want it now.” 

How could he refuse? Laszlo kissed her again, his tongue slipping into her mouth. Alice pinned him against the counter, and since her hands were dry she ran them through his hair and rested them at the back of his neck. Laszlo leaned into her touch.

Abruptly, Alice ended their kiss. She stayed close to him, pressed to him. “But if dessert is the cookies, they can wait until we’re watching a movie on the couch.” Laszlo hardly understood what she said. He was too distracted by the way Alice kissed him. She giggled, clearly amused by his love-drunk expression, and smiled. “Come on,” she teased, “let’s finish this up.” Laszlo did not need any more encouragement. 

***

They set out all their gifts on the coffee table along with the platter of cookies and two mugs of hot chocolate. Laszlo insisted on preparing it for them, his recipe using dark chocolate and rich milk to create the most decadent drink. Stevie preferred the instant Swiss Miss powder, no doubt due to his unrefined palette, and Alice surprised Laszlo by asking for a sprinkle of cinnamon and nutmeg. Curious, he had to try it for himself.

Alice shivered once on the couch, so Laszlo found the red knit blanket he kept in the living room and draped it over her shoulders. She looked comfortable like she belonged there.

“Can I go first?” Alice volunteered, “My gifts for you require a little bit of explanation.”

“Well now you must. You’ve piqued my curiosity.”

She handed him one slim box, one wrapped present that could only be a book by its shape and size, and a flat, rectangular box. All were wrapped in delicate blue and white snowflake wrapping paper and finished with silver bows. Laszlo reached for the smallest box first. He tore the paper at the tape and lifted the lid from the box. It was a black and gold fountain pen, weighted in his hand.

“It’s supposed to be smear proof. All the reviews said it was left hand certified.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you.” He reached for the book next, sliding his thumb under the edge of the wrapping paper. It was a well-read, well-loved paperback copy of her favorite book. Laszlo glanced at her before skimming through the pages. 

“We talked about books before, and how a person’s favorite book can tell you a lot about them, so I thought I would give you my favorite filled with all my thoughts and annotations.” It was a deeply personable gift. Laszlo was shocked, and he immediately tried to give it back to her. “I already bought myself another copy, please, keep it.”

The final present was a rich golden-colored cable knit sweater. Laszlo held it up, modeling what it would look like, and he saw her eyes light up. He would have to wear more gold…

“I had to guess your size, so I put the receipt in the box in case you need to return it or exchange it. But I thought the gold would suit you, and I see I was right.”

“Thank you, darling.” He kissed her cheek again. Laszlo enjoyed seeing her cheeks flush whenever he did. “It’s all so thoughtful.”

“Technically,” Alice said with a sly grin, “there’s one more gift, but you’ll have to wait to unwrap it.”

“Oh?” Laszlo checked the coffee table wondering how he missed it. Alice nodded, removed the blanket from her shoulders, and sat up straight, pushing her plentiful chest out. “Oh!”

Intentionally, her sweater slipped off her shoulder exposing a touch of lace. His eyes followed the movement. “It’s more of an investment, I think, but mutually beneficial.”

“Certainly,” he agreed, unconsciously licking his lips. 

“But not yet.” Alice fixed her sweater and re-wrapped the blanket. Laszlo blinked twice, refocusing on the moment. She knew how to tease him, draw him in, and turn his head all around. It was maddening and enthralling. He thought carefully about the order in which to give his gifts to her. Start small.

“The poinsettias on the table are yours to keep, so long as you keep them away from Georgie. I read they’re not good for cats, so put them somewhere high and out of reach for him.”

“They’re gorgeous, Laszlo, and I appreciate the research. All the other flowers you’ve given me have been Georgie safe, so I’ll have to find somewhere special for these.”

Next was a little gift bag filled with imported German chocolates, the best in his opinion, and cat treats for Georgie. Treats for both of them, he explained, with a sheepish smile at the pun. These were all small gifts, trivial really, but they all brought a smile to her face. It was time to step it up. He handed her a slim, unmarked envelope with two tickets to the Nutcracker, on Christmas Eve no less. 

Alice’s eyes glittered. “I thought this had been sold out for months! How did you get these?”

“I have a box, so I get the first pick of any tickets…” he trailed off. He always bought at least two tickets. In years past, he would take John, Stevie, or John and Sara and play the third wheel. This year, Laszlo would have a date. 

“Fuck off,” Alice said indelicately, but still alluringly to him. “You have a box?”

“I do,” he snickered, “It was my family’s before it became mine.”

“That’s incredible.” She still held the tickets in her hand, looking them over and over. His eyes met hers, a silent question. What are you thinking? “Honestly, I’m trying to think if I have an outfit worthy of this.”

“Whatever you wear, I’m sure it will be divine, and I hope you pair it with this.” He slid his final present over to her: a small jewelry box. 

Tentatively, she set the tickets down and picked up the box. It wasn’t wrapped; Laszlo thought the black velvet spoke for itself. Now he feared it was too much too soon. Jewelry set certain expectations. It announced intention. 

“Oh, Laszlo.” Her thumb rubbed along the edge of the box, and she tilted the necklace and earrings toward the light. “It’s- I don’t know what to say other than thank you.” Alice’s wide eyes met his, and he thought he saw the shadow of a tear.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” The troublesome tear slipped down her cheek when he asked, and more threatened to follow. Given the nature of his work, Laszlo was accustomed to tears, but he did not know what to do when Alice cried.

“You’ve done so much and given me such wonderful gifts,” she tried to steady her voice but was unsuccessful, “and I’m worried I didn’t do enough.”

“Don’t say that,” he rushed to assure her. In the unspoken silence, Laszlo sensed her true fear was that she wasn’t enough. He struggled for words, so he took her hand in his and squeezed it. “You have given me plenty.”

Alice smiled, tears still in her eyes, and nodded to herself. “Thank you, Laszlo, just-” she paused again, registering her hand in his, “Thank you.”

After Alice dried her tears, embarrassed she cried but comforted by Laszlo’s words, they dimmed the lights and turned on a movie. All playful bickering about what to watch stopped when Alice spotted an old stop-motion classic about the year without Santa Claus. She had not seen it in years, but she vividly remembered the song with heat miser and snow miser. Laszlo chuckled and indulged her, selecting the movie and letting the opening credits play. 

She cuddled up next to Laszlo, his arm across her shoulders, and she shared her blanket with him. Alice leaned her head on his chest, and he rested his chin at the top of her head. She was comforted by his slow and steady breathing. Laszlo was a rock: steady and reliable under her. 

Both their hands wandered, appreciative and lingering touches, until the movie was forgotten and Laszlo encouraged her to sit on his lap. Alice hesitated, biting her tongue at a quip about being more than he could handle, but he was insistent and unflinching. She straddled his lap, her already short skirt rising up even further, teasing him with the tops of her thighs. 

“There you are,” Laszlo crooned. He looked less perfect and more like a person. Toussled hair, pink cheeks, sly smile. Alice adored him like this. His hand circled her waist and pulled her closer, eliminating any space between them. His kiss tasted of their drink, rich chocolate with a touch of spice. Alice melted into his touch. Laszlo panted, whining into her mouth as he felt her chest pressing against him.

His hand slipped under the knit of her red sweater and traced the skin underneath. His fingers danced over the clasp of her new bra, her gift just for him to unwrap, asking her permission before advancing any further. She broke their kiss and nodded, a quiet “I want this” escaping her lips. Laszlo needed no more encouragement, and he deftly undid the clasp. She pulled the sweater over her head and tossed it aside. Her nipples pebbled in the sudden chill, and Laszlo was quick to latch himself to her. 

He took one into his mouth, lavishing it with attention, while he cupped her other breast with his hand. Laszlo did not want it to feel unappreciated as he nipped, licked, and pinched. Alice moaned his name and wriggled her hips against him, craving more in the heady heat of the moment. “I want to see you,” she huffed. 

Laszlo paused and drew back. A trail of saliva connected them, and Alice brushed it away with her thumb. “I’m all yours,” he murmured.

Alice hastily unfastened the buttons on his waistcoat and shirt, cursing him for wearing so many layers, but grateful for them too. Laszlo looked good in his layers, coordinated and well-put-together, but she wanted to see underneath his careful clothing choices.  Alice feasted her eyes on a broad chest, dusted with coarse hair and fine freckles, leading down to his soft stomach. Laszlo tipped his head back and groaned when she trailed her hand down his chest.

“Much better.” Pleased, Alice touched Laszlo’s chin and brought his attention back. His eyes were hazy, as if he’d drunk more than a glass of wine, as he studied her form. Laszlo ran an appreciative hand across her body: cupping her breast, holding her waist, and resting on her ass. He kissed her again, his lips wandering from her lips to her jaw, and her collarbone. 

“Laszlo, I-” His phone, forgotten on the coffee table, rang and interrupted her. She turned, glancing at the caller ID, and handed it to him. “It’s Stevie, he’s probably on his way home.”

Laszlo answered and held the phone to his ear. Alice was somewhat relieved he called. She wasn’t sure how much further they were going to go, and she was nervous to broach the topic. This was a natural end to the evening. When she went to move off his lap, he held her there with his right hand. Not firmly, but the surprising and warm touch was enough to keep her there. She slipped her hand over his.

Alice waited until he hung up to speak. “I think it’s time for me to go, Las.” 

“Please, darling, five more minutes.” His hips ground against hers, and his voice was as enticingly sweet as honey. 

“Five minutes, my final Christmas present for you,” she teased.

His lips reattached to hers, and his hand groped her breast. Her hips continued above him, and Laszlo followed every one of her movements. 

Hindered by Laszlo’s request, but hastened by his assistance to redress, Alice left without issue. She promised to text him when she arrived home safe and sound, and he reminded her what time they would leave for the Nutcracker. Laszlo waited for Stevie to return in the kitchen, hoping to ask about his evening before locking the front door and going to bed. 

“Hey,” Stevie entered through the more hidden ground-level door that connected through the garage. He preferred the direct access rather than messing with the front door. It was part of why he chose to live downstairs.

“How was it?” 

“Good,” he shrugged, “Caleb got a new game for us to play, so it took a while to figure out the rules, but it was fun.”

“Did they enjoy the chips?”

“Yeah, yeah, they did.” Stevie glanced at the sink, empty apart from two mugs of hot chocolate. “How was your evening?” 

One mug was still smeared with lipstick, and panic shot through Laszlo. Did he have any of her lipstick on his face? He wished he checked a mirror instead of presuming he looked okay. Laszlo flustered, thinking on the spot.

“Fine. Some people from the psychology department came over for dinner, part of a new tradition they’re trying to start.”

Stevie poured himself a glass of water and stood in front of the fridge. “That’s cool. Any leftovers? ”

“What? They didn’t feed you over there?” Laszlo chuckled, relieved by the change in subject.

“They did, but I’m still hungry. Growing boy and all.” Stevie ate a dinner roll without bothering to microwave it. 

Laszlo rolled his eyes. Ah, the youth. “Goodnight, and don’t forget to lock up.”

“Already did.”

Laszlo meant it when he said, “Good kid.”

***

Two days later, Laszlo picked Alice up from her apartment with a bouquet of pale pink roses. She wore a simple, elegant black dress and shawl. Underneath her silver shawl, Laszlo spotted the simple necklace he gave her and more than one purple hickey. He felt a sense of satisfaction seeing his work.

They arrived early to the theater and worked slowly through the crowds. People acknowledged him — former clients or students — and he stopped for a moment to chat with some of them. His chest puffed up with pride, talking to them with a woman as wonderful as Alice on his arm. She shimmered under the chandeliers.

Finally, Laszlo brought her to his box on the upper level. Alice whispered in his ear she always wondered what the view from the boxes was like rather than general admission. Laszlo promised to take her to more shows in the coming year. They enjoyed the show, her hand clasped in his, and her shawl slipping off her shoulders.

Laszlo asked if she was hungry, too, when they left the theater. Sheepishly, Alice confessed she was. He swung by a fast-food joint, one of the only things open at the late hour on Christmas Eve, and ordered fries and milkshakes. After their midnight snack, they made out like teenagers in the front seat. It was a complete contrast to the formality of their evening, but it was the perfect way to end the night.

taglist: @scuttle-buttle @fictionlandslanddreams @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles @hardlyinteresting @sapphiredreamer26 @aedeluca @alycu1 @linkpk88 @rachreads @fandom-princess-forevermore @groovyponypatrollamp @to-fat-to-give-a-crap @kateris-world @eli-the-thinker

#daniel brühl fanfiction #daniel brühl fanfic #laszlo kreizler fanfic #laszlo kreizler fanfiction #the alienist fanfiction #the alienist fanfic #modern laszlo kreizler #daniel brühl

[mrsmaxwelllord]

INFATURATION - The Reunion

Pairing: Laszlo Kreizler x Fem!Reader

Summary: After years of solitude, protected by the wall of a house you were forced to call your own, you open the doors to welcome your stepdaughter. Only to see her bring in the man who cause all your misfortune.

A/N: There isn't any warnings bc this chapter only introduces the plot and briefly narrates the reunion of Laszlo and his former lover.

But this is a Persuasion-inspired fic — meaning it is a second-change romance.

I think this is all, for now.

Enjoy!

.

 It is unthinkable.

 The grimace on your face was caught by your company when the stranger’s silhouette took shape. But that was no stranger at all, you could tell, even in the distance when his face was yet to be revealed.

 The brown hair, the bright eyes, the cane... 

 This must be a dream, a terrible nightmare — was your first thought when you recognized the figure.

 You gasped for air, tightening your hold on Edwinas arm. You could hear her calling your name, but it was as low as a whisper. Barely there, mixed with the loud waves.

 The silhouette doubled, forming a second figure, one that you couldn’t quite place. It was of no consequence, you were transfixed by the approaching man.

 Step by ungainly step on the sand he shortened the space between the two of you. In no time his features became visible, demanding attention. The bright brown eyes above anything else, but the matching hair still had its charm even now, curling behind his ears.

 When his eyes finally meet yours it is in wonder, but it feels like being punched in the stomach. Hard and painful.  There was a knot in your throat and you couldn't breathe properly. 

 His lips opened to whisper your name.

 It was only with a scream you broke out of the devil’s spell.

 Daniel, the reason for your oh so tard visit to the beach, was the one to scream and so snape you back to reality. Demanding your attention to the funny shell he found by the Ocean.

 You turn around to face him, baffled still.

 “Ma’am, are you well?” questioned the governess at the same time Danny screamed “Mama” at the top of his lungs. Your ears were buzzing and, truth be told, you were definitely not in full control of your mental abilities yet.

 You did not know to whom you should answer first, the maid or the bubbling infant,  but the dripping clothes of the child way too close to the Ocean's waves gave you the directions you needed.

 “That is enough, young man” you said, calling your son closer to you. 

 “Yes, mister,” Edwina agreed upon seeing the deed. “That isn’t proper behaviour.”

 He laughs and doesn't shake at your objection, but runs to you and shows the shell holding out his tiny hands.

“M’Sorry” he murmurs “I wanted you to see this. It’s a present, you see?”

You take the shell and thanks for the gift, another addition to your collection.

“Ma’am, how are you feeling?” 

You face Edwina, still much aware of the strangers, and force a smile.

“I’m much better. Thank you.”

“You looked so sick just now,” she says.

“No need to worry about it, Edwina.” You look at the couple from the corner of your eye, noticing that they have their arms lined.

She hums and Danny rounds circles around you.

“Oh, what a delightful surprise” Professor Stratton greets you.

 You turn around abruptly.

 In your terror, you did not recognize the figure beside Doctor Laszlo Kreizler, but now you could tell who it was. Miss Stratton was correct, what a surprise! — you just couldn’t agree with the delightfulness. Miss Stratton was to arrive the very first thing tomorrow morning, but you guessed the ship did not care for men's assumptions.

 “Karen” you smile, “you arrived early!”

  Her smile was just as bright and contagious as you remember it, and she looked very satisfied. Karen took your hands between hers gently, squeezing it, and, when Daniel very carefully not to be heard whispered a question to Edwina, she gasped.

 “Oh, that can’t be!” she turned to him, then asked. “Is this the tiny baby I held in my arms not five years ago? Is this Danny?”

 Despite being very excited and anxious about the arrival of his half-sister and not being able to stop talking about her to anyone listening in the previous weeks, Daniel fell silent with her attention. Suddenly very shy.

 “Go ahead, Danny” you encouraged him, stretching out your hand so he could hold it and come closer. “Say hello to Karen, she was very excited to see you again.”

 “Were you?” he asked, timid.

 Dr Keizler stood in silence, flabbergasted, watching the scene before him evolve. Both because nobody introduced or talked to him and he simply could not believe his eyes.

 He looked at you and the boy with gushing curiosity, a feeling he couldn't quite describe, but relish. Yearn. He wished you would look him in the eyes, but you were focused on the chatting.

 Professor Stratton chatted to the kid she called Danny for a good pair of minutes before turning back to him. 

 “How can I be so rude?” She faced Laszlo. “Mrs. Stratton,  Mrs. Smith, Danny, this is the friend I talked about. Dr Laszlo Kreizler.”

 “It is a pleasure, sir,” said Edwina.

 Danny promptly, and exaggeratedly, bowed in greeting. Giggling like only a kid could.

 You weren’t sure what to do. You already knew Dr Kreizler so the introduction wasn’t necessary, but you also did not know if you wanted everybody to be aware of it.

 Before you could do or say anything about it, Karen recalled:

 “She originally is from New York, Laszlo. Perhaps you've even seen each other around the city.”

 “Indeed. We already met” Laszlo answered, without taking his eyes off of you. 

.

So, this is it. The first chapter of the fic I talked about months ago. I haven't finished it as I hoped I'd by now, but I really wanted to post this. The Daniel Brühl's fandom is so quiet lately, I miss the old days.

Oh, yes, I did name the kid Daniel!!!! couldn't help it.

I hope you liked it!!

xoxo

#Lazlo Kreizler #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler x you #laszlo kreizler fanfiction #the alienist fanfiction #fanfiction

[r-redex]

Fic List

Hello! I figured I’d finally make a pinned post, mostly for my own sanity. I may edit it to add my tumblr writing as well, but for now here is a complete list of my fics on AO3!

A Way Out

Multi-chapter In Our Bedroom After the War [Complete] Rating: General/Teen Chapters: 7 A light plot, heavy fluff fic following Leo and Vincent a few years post-game as they take a trip to visit their families and attend Carol’s wedding.

Educated Guesses [Discontinued] Rating: General/Teen Chapters: 4 An AU where Vincent is Alex’s teacher and Leo is in an open marriage with Linda, and they are both very stupid.

Night Watch [Complete] Rating: Explicit Chapters: 2 A Vincent/Leo smut fic set during the events of the game, told from both Vincent and Leo’s perspectives.

One Shots Fictober 2020  A series of my oneshots from the collaborative A Way Out Fictober 2020 event! To check out the whole collection - a total of 20 works from an assortment of A Way Out fic writers and some fanart as well! - click here!

I’ll Be Home For Christmas  Rating: General Words: 3k  Set a while after the events of In Our Bedroom After the War, almost 4k words of complete fluff following both Leo and Vincent’s POVs as they visit family for Christmas.

Expectations  Rating: Explicit Words: 7k It’s Just Smut.™ Following Leo’s thoughts about his relationship with Vincent post-game, and the things he doesn’t know about him (but wishes he did.)

How Wonderful Life Is (While You’re In The World)  Rating: General Words: 3k  Based on a req/prompt I got on tumblr and ended up liking enough to post. A fluffy and lightly angsty childhood friends AU where Vincent grows into his friendship with Leo, as well as himself.

Pulse  Rating: Teen Words: 1k A fluff/hurt-comfort work about Leo learning about and learning to deal with Vincent’s nightmares post-game.

It Takes Two To Thaw  Rating: Explicit Words: 4k Literally the most popular work on my page, somehow ^^’ Basically PWP, following a night on the run post-game. Subject to a very unfortunate naming coincidence - it was supposed to be a play on the phrase ‘it takes two to tango,’ and I was happy with it until a certain game got announced and I realized what I’d done,,

The Alienist 

Multi-chapter Allegro [Complete] Rating: Mature Chapters: 3 The first in the Piano Concerto No. 20 series. Following John’s POV as he realizes the nuances of his friendship with Laszlo.

Romanze [Complete] Rating: Explicit Chapters: 3 The second in the Piano Concerto No. 20 series. Following John’s POV as he and Laszlo navigate emotions, change, and personal issues.

One Shots Snowflakes on Street Lamps Rating: Explicit Words: 4k Smut with feelings and light plot. John and Laszlo’s relationship has been strained for unknown reasons, and when he gets snowed in at Laszlo’s house, they’re forced to confront it.

Lavender Rating: Explicit Words: 2k PWP; A soft afternoon between John and Laszlo.

A Firelit Respite Rating: General Words: 1k Post Season 1, Cyrus realizes the toll the investigation and subsequent events took on Laszlo, and discovers how he’s coping. Pretty much just fluff.

Aftermath Rating: General Words: 1k Angst and hurt/comfort. Cyrus and Stevie pay respects to a loved one. (Probably my personal favourite tbh)

Too Much Rating: General Words: 1k A fluffy piece wherein Laszlo overworks himself and refuses to admit it, and how he’s forced to accept that he’s just a human and sometimes needs to be taken care of, too.

#fanfiction #pinned #fic list #the alienist fanfiction #a way out fanfiction

[jomarch-wannabe]

Daydreaming

Laszlo Kreizler x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut 🔞 (fingering, multiple orgasms, p in v sex, him speaking absolute filth in German, basically the inner workings of my sex deprived mind)

Warm amber light filled the cabin of the train as you and Laszlo journeyed home. A novel sat in your lap, capturing your attention for most of the ride. After a little while though, boredom got the better of you, and you flicked your eyes up to Laszlo sitting across from you. He was lost in thought, watching the passing scenery out the window. A rhythmic thumping commenced in your chest as you watched him, mesmerized by the habitual stroking of his fingers tugging at his dense facial hair.

The book on your lap shuffled slightly as your thighs shifted together. You swallowed, trying to peel your gaze from him, but they were stuck. Glued to him by a thick, sticky, invisible substance: lust.

Heat rushed to your face as your mind unwillingly became flooded with obscene thoughts. You bit your lip subconsciously as you imagined his large fingers pushing into your mouth. Spreading over your tongue and sucking on them, as you looked up into his commanding dark eyes. Coaxing deep groans from him, as he would become aroused, growing hard from the slippery suctioning of your mouth, imagining how they would feel sucking on his cock.

God you wanted that too. The heavy weight of his cock in your mouth, stealing your breath as you pulled deep groans from his chest, praising you in his German tongue. To be his good little schatz.

You'd free his fingers with a pop and he'd eagerly lift up your skirt, pulling you onto his lap with ease as he held open your legs with one hand, taking the fingers you just lubricated with your saliva and pushing them inside of you.

Curling and thrusting over and over again, hitting your sensitive spot, each time sending jolts of pleasure down your legs, until it's too much, and your head is spinning and you're holding onto his wrist, beads of sweat rolling down your flushed face.

"Laszlo.. Laszlo.." a choked whimper would come out in prayer like muttering, thanking him. Leaving red nail marks on the tops of his hands as you clawed at his shifting knuckles, reaching your climax.

"Be a good girl for me liebling. Come for me, go on schatz, come for me." He would mutter against your ear, making you shiver with his coarse facial hair.

His deep baritone would be your undoing, making you convulse suddenly in ecstasy, hips rutting against his hand as your eyes fall closed. The firm tip of his nose brushing against your neck, ticking your skin as he muttered breathless praises.

The weight of his large hands would come suddenly over your waist, manhandling you so you were facing him. It would be his turn. You'd hold onto the fur lapels of his coat, panting as you're just coming down from your high.

You'd be given barely any time to protest before he'd force you onto his thick cock, pinning your arms behind your back with his strong masculine grip. A helpless choked whimper would flee your throat at the feeling. Squirming uselessly as he fucks you hard and fast, smacking his thighs against yours, over and over and over, hitting that spot so deep. God it would feel so good, so full, so stretched out.

A unison panting would saturate the air as your bodies collide, chasing your highs. In exhaustion your head would dip forward, resting lazily against his forehead as your body was helplessly used.

"You feel so fucking good schatz. So fucking tight. Mein Gott." His Adam's Apple would bob with his moans, uttering German praises.

"F-fuck." a pathetic whimper would flee your trembling lips, numb with pleasure as his cock pounds ruthlessly in and out of you.

"Are you close schatz?" His voice would vibrate against your skin as he speaks against your chest, peppering sloppy kisses along your collarbones.

"Y-yes, Laszlo please." You'd squeak, groaning slightly from the burning ache in your arms pulled behind you.

The desperation in your squirming would only serve to spur him on. In a deep, frantic pace he would command you once more, "Come for me schatz, come on my cock. Let go, that's it, come on my cock."

His words would be your undoing. With a high pitched moan you would shake violently against him, rutting your hips as your second orgasm hit you, even more intense than the last. He would follow you, groaning loudly as his grip tightened, leaving red marks on your wrists as he injected you with his warm release.

You’d pull away slightly in overstimulation, making a mess on top of his thighs. He would release your arms, capturing your face with his hands and pulling you into a hungry, open mouthed kiss. A primal growl would flee his lips, satisfied at his claiming of you.

A string of saliva would connect your lips as he would pull back, "So fucking perfect, my little Engel." His lips would brush against yours, making you shudder with his intense brown eyed gaze.

"Y/n?" The deep sound of Laszlo’s voice abruptly awoke you from your sensual daydream. “What's the matter darling?" He asked curiously, eyeing you with his deep-set observant eyes. “You look to be in some sort of trance.”

"N-nothing.” A violent blush rose to your cheeks as you looked down at your lap. The pages of your book were crinkled from your grasp. You gasped softly, moving it aside to find a dark spot marking the red velvet cushion between your thighs.

A heavy inhale filled your chest as you looked up, surprised to see Laszlo smirking with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“Is there something I can help you with schatz?”

#daniel brühl #laszlo kreizler #the alienist #laszlo kreizler smut #laszlo kreizler fanfiction #laszlo kriezler x reader #Daniel brühl smut

[noforkingclue]

No Questions Asked (Laszlo Kreizler x reader) Chapter 20

Chapter warnings: mentions of character death

No Questions Asked tag list: @fandom-lover-4, @ajeff855, @booksarekindaneat, @greeneyedblondie44

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @byebyebreezywrites, @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian, @simonsbluee

You didn’t know how long it had been since you had seen Laszlo, John or Sara but you didn’t particularly care. If they managed before you then they could manage without you. You had patients to deal with. There was still underlying tensions but people were desperate. Some even gave you cash so you knew that Alice had been spreading the message.

Still, it was a night like this that reminded you of the first night you met Laszlo and John. You sat, staring at your bed taking a swig from a bottle of whiskey. You grimaced at the rough taste and put the bottle to the side. You slowly staggered to your feet and muttered,

“Going to need more than new sheets this time.”

*

It was raining by the time you got the Laszlo’s. You were surprised that he opened the door and he took one looked at your slumped figure as he ushered you in. You practically collapsed onto the sofa and put your head in your hands.

“What happened?” Laszlo asked eventually

“Why do you care?”

“You disappeared for weeks and then you turn up on my doorstep. In the middle of the night while it’s raining,” you could practically hear the faint smile in his voice, “I am curious.”

“I killed a man.”

A thick silence fell between you. You peaked at Laszlo through your fingers. His back was turned to you but you could see him tense.

“What do you mean?” he asked

“I let a man die.”

“You let him die or you killed him?”

“It adds up to the same thing.”

A glass of whiskey was handed to you and you shook your head. You already had too much to drink tonight. Laszlo sat down in a chair opposite you and said,

“So what happened?”

“Why do you care?”

You looked up at him and froze at the look he was giving you. You felt yourself getting hot and you don’t think it was just from the fire.

“One of my friends died.” You muttered

“Oh.”

“It was my fault. If I hadn’t been so focused on this then I would’ve been able to save her.”

“Do you know that?”

“I could’ve helped!”

You stood up so quickly and leant over Laszlo. You slammed your hands against the arms of the chair.

“Instead I wasted my time with this and let her brute of a pimp beat her to death.”

You staggered back and fell back against the sofa.

“So you blame yourself for your friend’s death?”

“Yes but-“

“Yes?”

“But this isn’t the one I’m talking about?”

“Oh.”

“That bastard turned up on my doorstep. He’d been stabbed. He was begging me for help. Begging and pleading as though he had never done anything wrong in his life.”

“What did you do?”

“Well I brought him in. It isn’t good to have someone bleeding on my doorstep. Makes people think I’m uncaring.”

“And after?”

“Well he dragged himself onto my bed,” you sneered, “fucking bastard. He was bleeding out and I could’ve saved him or at least try to.”

“Well?”

“I didn’t. I let him bleed out.”

“Right.”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“What do you want me to say? Isn’t this what you did to Barker? Did this just bring it to reality?”

“I’ve seen people die,” you said, “you expect to see people die in my line of work. But I’ve never let someone deliberately die before.”

“Besides from Barker.”

“Besides from him.”

“But the question is,” Laszlo leant back in his chair and steepled his fingers, “do you regret it?”

“No. He caused the death of someone I cared about. Much like with Barker, more people will be safe now that he’s dead.”

“So if you don’t regret it why are you here?”

You bit your lip and stood up. You paced about as you tried to find the right words.

“Were you expecting me to tell you that what you did was right? To try and clear your conscience.”

“I…”

You trailed off and shook your head.

“This was a mistake.”

You started to walk towards the door but in a flash Laszlo was on his feet. He gripped your arm tightly and you looked down at his grip. You raised your eyebrows but Laszlo didn’t let go. Instead he tightened it and pulled you towards him. The crackling fire was the only sound in the room. Laszlo’s gaze burned into yours and you found yourself unable to look away.

“You came here,” Laszlo said quietly, “you must want something.”

Once again, you cursed your chosen disguise. It was needed but you wished it wasn’t. You swallowed thickly and resisted the urge to lean into him. Instead you pulled your arm free. You took a few more steps towards the door and said,

“Before she died Polly left me a note. Think you might find it useful.”

You pulled it out and tossed it on the sofa. You pulled your coat around yourself tightly and said,

“Good bye.”

Just before you left you heard Laszlo call,

“Thank you. I’m sure we will be seeing each other again very soon.”

#fanfiction #the alienist #reader insert #laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler x reader

[f1yogurt]

Smut Prompts for the Danny Bunch!

27 for Laszlo <3

thank you for this!! here's a short drabble for Laszlo x gn!Reader [AO3 link]

smut prompts - 27. “I’m too busy.” “I’ll be quick, I promise.”

minors DNI 18+

You were in a playful mood tonight, and as you walked into Doctor Kreizler’s spacious study, you grinned when you saw him seated behind his huge wooden desk. There were papers strewn about on its surface, and Laszlo looked like he was focused, reading something intently with his glasses on. Oh, you’d have to do something about that.

“Hello, darling,” you greeted, walking up to his desk. Laszlo glanced up briefly in acknowledgement, but then he immediately went back to reading. Hm. You walked around to where he was seated, and you pressed a kiss to his cheek, your fingers dancing along the collar of his shirt. Laszlo inhaled sharply at your touch, although he didn’t pull away.

“I’m too busy,” he protested, although a slight blush had risen to his cheeks. You grinned, knowing exactly how to fix this.

“I’ll be quick, I promise.” Before he could protest, you dropped to your knees and slid slightly underneath the desk, positioning yourself between his legs. You chuckled when you heard him gasp again.

“Shh, darling,” you shushed, unzipping the fly of his nice trousers. “I’ll take care of you. Meanwhile, you can continue to work…if you’re so busy.” Laszlo looked down at you then, and you just grinned up at him mischievously. The man was still holding a paper in his left hand, and his glasses were perched on his nose, as if he truly intended to continue working through this.

Without further adieu, you tugged down his briefs and gently grasped his arousal in your warm hand, causing Laszlo to let out a muffled moan. It pleased you that he would finally have a reaction to this, and you wanted to earn more of those strangled sounds of pleasure from him.

“Schatz, I, I need to keep working–” Laszlo cut himself off with another groan as you began stroking him. Oh, how wrong he was to refuse the two of you a nice, long, pleasant evening together.

“Hush, I promised I would be quick,” you said, intending to make good on your words. “And I never back out on a promise.” Doing your best to maintain eye contact, you took him in your mouth, not allowing him time to tell you differently. You bobbed your head, using your hands and tongue and everything you knew that would drive him wild, to the brink the quickest. Laszlo was making the most beautiful noises, whimpering and gasping. A gorgeous flush had risen to his cheeks and had climbed its way to the tips of his ears.

You hummed around him, enjoying the feeling of Laszlo shuddering beneath you. Somehow, he still was holding onto that oh so important paper of his. His glasses had slipped down the bridge of his nose, and a lock of hair now fell over his forehead. So much for working.

Before he knew what had hit him, and before he could warn you, Laszlo was coming. Stars flashed behind his eyelids as he rode out the waves of ecstacy, and you hummed your approval. When Laszlo finally recovered, he opened his eyes to find you buttoning up his trousers, almost as if nothing had happened.

“See? Quick,” you said, winking as you stood up. “Come see me when you finish your work, Doctor Kreizler. Maybe we can work out a longer session. If it fits into your busy schedule, of course.” You turned and walked away, up to your bedroom, leaving Laszlo to gaze longingly after you. With that promise, it looked like he didn’t have that much work to do after all.

#my fanfic #laszlo kreizler #the alienist #daniel brühl #daniel bruehl #daniel bruhl #daniel bruhl fanfiction #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler x you #laszlo kreizler x gn!reader #laszlo kreizler fanfiction

[italianraviolos]

¡HELP!

Hi Daniel brühl fandom, especially those who are simping for Laszlo Kreizler.

Ages ago, I read a ff about Laszlo falling in love with one of is patients.

I remember the plot, it was the story of a women who's Sara's friend and she suggests her to go to Laszlo due to her problems.

She suffers from panic and anxiety attacks and Laszlo tries to cure her, and one night tries to cure her in a different way (coff* smut *coff) and after that he invites her to the opera but a few misunderstandings happen about a letter (I don't remember what happens) and so she goes but Sara gives her a knife as a defence.

They come back at Laszlo's house after the opera and she feels threatened during a particular situation of sexual tension, so she takes out the knife and then ✨smut✨ again.

IF ANYONE KNOWS WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT PLEASE TELL MEEEEE

Thank you✨

#daniel brühl smut #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl x reader #daniel brühl x reader #daniel bruhl #zemo x reader #laszlo kreizler #daniel bruhl icons #baron zemo #helmut zemo #lazslo kreizler #laslzo kreizler fanfiction #laszlo kreizler angst #laszlo kriezler x reader #laszlo kreizler smut #laszlo kreizler x reader #the alienist #john moore

[fairyysoup]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖

ADHAKFHSKFJFL thank you so much bb i love doing these 💕

All of my works are 18+ MDNI. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

Ouroboros - Eddie Munson (Stranger Things) x fem!reader

Smut. Fluff. Idiots in love. You're in denial about your crush on Eddie until he has to go on the run and crash at your place. Horny antics ensue.

Ceremony and Devotion - Khonshu & Moon Boys (Moon Knight) x fem!reader

Smut. Human/Deity relations. Khonshu fucks, send tweet.

Hotel Room Service - Adrian Chase (Peacemaker) x afab!reader

Smut. Fluff. Drunk Sex. Sharing a hotel room with Adrian just got a little bit complicated.

The Somnambulist - dark!Laszlo Kreizler (The Alienist) x fem!reader

Darkfic. Smut. Noncon. Horror Elements. What if Dr. Kreizler was actually a terrible human being and also committed grievous malpractice with a patient?

A Dangerous Line - Eros/Starfox (Marvel's Eternals) x fem!reader

Smut. Human/Deity relations (ish). Surprise! The myth of Eros and Psyche is mostly true, and you're about to find out just how much.

#asks #fanfic #fanfiction #adrian chase #peacemaker #adrian chase x reader #khonshu #moon knight #khonshu x reader #moon knight x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler x reader #the alienist #starfox #starfox x reader #harry styles x reader #eternals

[fdrsamericanflagduckfloaty]

this is only going public because my sanity is at 2% but i am so god damn close to publishing that fucking Theodore Roosevelt smut oneshot and it's making me die on the inside considering it's likely to reach 20k words even though that shit is big enough to be 4 chapters 5k words each

if I can't figure out how to publish anon--cause fuck that im not letting my non-president-fic-readers find a TR smut when searching for NATM fic--I'm going to jump off a cliff star position like Taylor Swift but anyways updates to the Jedtavius fic coming soon💅

#theodore roosevelt #teddy roosevelt #WHY DOES HE HAVE TWO TAGS #the fandom is #the alienist #so i should probably clarify i dont mean historical #...except i sorta do #i hate my life #IT'S SO BAD #ao3 #fanfiction #im the only one writing this pairing btw #it doesnt even have a tag #one of the people in the pairing doesnt even have a tag #their kids dont have tags #do you understand #going mental

[lupines-slash-recs]

Rec: Fruitful Partnerships by Starlinghue

Title: Fruitful Partnerships Author: Starlinghue Canon: The Alienist Pairing: Laszlo Kreizler/John Moore Rating: Mature [R] Word Count: 9,376 Summary: One night at the Opera, during those long, anxious months following the investigation, Laszlo turned discreetly in his

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#author: starlinghue #fanfic rec #Fanfiction Recommendation #gay fanfic #gay fanfiction #john moore #john moore/laszlo kreizler #john schuyler moore #john/laszlo #kreizloore #laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler/john moore #laszlo/john #mlm #queer fanfic #queer fanfiction #rating: mature #slash fanfic #slash fanfiction #the alienist #word count: 5k - 10k

[superanpaman]

Ao3 community is kinda sad

I was thinking about this and I'm going to vent here, I find the ao3 community to be very uninteractive and also a little disheartening. For example, often very well written and good fanfics do not receive any comments or interaction from the reader in the work, and as a person who writes fanfic I think that this is a little discouraging when it comes to finishing a work or publishing another, because it makes you think that nobody liked or that your writing was bad. Even if we don't earn anything writing it, it's really nice when someone comments on something, says they liked it, it can even be a happy emoji, that already makes my day, because I know that someone liked it and I gain more confidence to do more work. Now, from my own experience, I see that the ao3 community tends to comment only on fanfics by specific authors and leave new authors aside, and I see that this discourages those who are starting. Another thing is also that in many fanfics I see that the only comments are about negative things and are hardly constructive criticism, they are just pointing out bad things in the story without saying anything good, and that, instead of helping, discourages the author and often makes giving up fanfic and not wanting to write more works. As an author, I know how readers' interactions are very motivating when it comes to writing more chapters or adding more work. So I always try to comment something, even if it's something simple, but to encourage the person to keep writing and always improving. My opinion, you are not obliged to agree with it.

#Fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #the sandman #lokius #sherlockbbc #the alienist #sambucky #wattpad #stranger things #steddie #hob x dream #dreamling #good omemes

[lorna-d-m]

Chapter Six: Communication

Pairing: Laszlo Kreizler x fem!OC (Alice Greene)

Summary: Professor Laszlo Kreizler is a workaholic. Between teaching university courses, running the Kreizler Institute, and minding Stevie -his ward-, he does not have time for relationships. That is until he meets Ms. Greene, Stevie's English teacher, at open house. Can he open his heart to the possibility of love?

Word Count: 4,060

W: mentions of bullying/hazing, sexually suggestive content

A/N: I have been enduring unending struggle after struggle this semester, so I'm sorry this took a while.

previous chapter

Golden light filtered through Laszlo’s office window. One of Rachmaninov’s symphonies played softly over his computer speaker, and he graded student essays with a fine-tipped red pen. A soft knock on the door broke him from his focus which he did not mind given the poor quality of the writing. Alice stood in the doorway, two coffees in hand, and a smile a mile wide. 

“What a surprise.” He pushed the stack of papers away and leaned back in his chair. 

She shut the heavy door. Her hips shimmied in a way Laszlo knew was meant to entice him. It worked. “I thought you could use a little afternoon pick-me-up.” 

“From you? Always.”

Alice handed Laszlo his coffee, no cream or sugar, and sat on his desk. She crossed her legs, her skirt riding up her thighs, and took a sip from her drink. Laszlo looked up at her, admiring everything he saw, and set his coffee to the side. He didn’t need it when he had her. 

His hand ran along her calf prompting her to re-cross her legs. Laszlo’s eyes flicked back and forth, torn between the mischievous glint in her eye and her plush thighs. Alice leaned down, her chest eye level with him, and cupped one of his cheeks with her hand. Her fingers played with his beard, and he nuzzled into her touch. He took a deep breath smelling her floral perfume, his forgotten coffee, and the old books in his office. Divine.  

She kissed his forehead, and then she leaned back on the old oak desk. Entranced, Laszlo stood. He was a sunflower yearning for the sun. She spread her legs, and he stood between her thighs clasping her waist. Standing, he was a touch taller than her, changing the angle between them. He kissed her, tasting the cinnamon sweetness on her tongue, and searching for more. 

“Oh, Laszlo,” she pulled away from his kiss, but her hand laid on his chest over his heart. “Are you sure? Anyone could come into your office, and I would hate for us to be interrupted.” Alice played coy, but Laszlo knew better. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

“Darling, you’ll be the only one coming in my office today. I promise.”

Laszlo pushed down the turtleneck of her sweater and kissed her neck. Impulsively, he wanted to leave a mark she would need to hide with another sweater. He cupped her breast, feeling the faint outline of lace under the knit, and he tugged on her sweater. It came loose from being tucked into her skirt, and he moved his hand under it. His thumb grazed the delicate lace, and he let out an appreciative chuckle.

“Please, Laszlo” she whispered in his ear, “more.”  

He clicked his tongue. “Greedy girl, aren’t you? Patience, and I will give you more.” Laszlo sank to his knees, and he guided her glorious thighs over his shoulders. He tugged at her lace underwear, and he wondered if it matched her bra. Alice giggled above him and wove her fingers into his hair, pulling him ever closer, not that he needed any encouragement. He lazily kissed each of her thighs, intent on leaving marks there too—

Laszlo woke with a start. Sweat clung to his flushed skin and shirt despite the late fall chill in his room. He was sticky with precome and tangled in the sheets. Laszlo groaned and ran a hand through his bedraggled hair. He didn’t need a doctorate in psychology to know the meaning of a sex dream. 

A cool breeze blew the long linen curtains, and a pale morning light filled the room. Glancing at his alarm clock, because he preferred the old-fashioned alarm clock to his phone, he knew he had a few minutes. For a moment, he thought about finishing the fantasy. Laszlo could easily imagine the ending, lapping at her until his beard was soaked with her, but he hesitated. 

With a groan that Stevie would certainly tease and call “an old man’s groan”, Laszlo left his comfortable bed. He rummaged through his bedside drawer for the pack of cigarettes he unsuccessfully hid from himself and shrugged on his warm robe. Laszlo didn’t have sex, but he still craved a cigarette. Only one, he promised himself, then he would shower and dress for the day. 

“Cheers!” Bitsy and Alice clinked their glasses together. Adorable, tiny rubber ducks floated in their mimosas, and despite the restaurant’s warning about a dollar charge for taking the ducklings, both women fully intended to slip them into their purses before leaving. 

“It feels like forever since I saw you! How was your trip?” Alice set her phone to the side and clasped her hands in front of her. A few weeks back during one of their planning periods, Bitsy booked the excursion. Alice joked she was planning, just not lessons or teaching. Over the three-day fall break, Bitsy and Lucius went upstate to a bed and breakfast, with the best reviews and amenities. 

“Amazing,” she sighed dramatically. “I’m so glad we did it. You know how everyone talks about going somewhere to see the leaves change colors and go apple picking?”

Alice grinned, imagining the leisurely autumnal weekend. “Yes, of course.”

Bitsy spilled all the details while they waited for their food. They took a gorgeous vintage-styled train upstate much to Lucius’s delight. She showed pictures and videos of the views and laughed recounting their apple-picking and cider-making misadventures. Apparently, both were more difficult than they seemed. Their bed and breakfast was a quaint cottage with a main hall for meals, and a precious elderly couple hosting. She raved about the cider donuts Linda made and passed the recipe along to Alice. 

“And you? How are things with the doctor? Or does he prefer the professor?”

“Please, you know I call him Laszlo.”

“Uh-huh, I just like to tease you, and by default him. So, how are things with you and Laszlo?” The waitress brought over their food, so Alice waited until they were settled to answer. 

“Well, without getting my hopes up,” Bitsy rolled her eyes, “it’s wonderful.” Alice blushed and not because of the mimosa. 

On their first date, he picked her up from her apartment with a bouquet of camellias. As soon as she commented they were cat-safe flowers, meaning she could place them on the coffee table without worrying about Georgie eating them, Laszlo produced a bag of cat treats from his coat pocket. He didn’t want Georgie to feel left out, he explained. Alice noted his thoughtfulness and attention to detail. 

Laszlo took her to dinner, as he promised at the conference, at Delmonico’s. Alice had never been, but Laszlo assured her it was his favorite restaurant. She could tell when the owner and the waitstaff greeted him by name, asking if he wanted his usual table, and bringing a complimentary bottle of wine. Alice was prepared to pay for her meal, but Laszlo insisted saying he should since he invited her.

Alice gently moved her drink from side to side to see the rubber duck move. “It feels silly to say, but I think we’re courting rather than dating.” 

“I guess that’s what happens when you date an older man,” Bitsy giggled, taking another sip of her drink.

“Shut up,” Alice couldn’t hold back a laugh either, “you know I have a type, but I’m serious. He’s been such a gentleman. Like he always brings me flowers or chocolates or coffee or something. And he brings something for Georgie too, I swear he has more toys and treats than I’ve ever bought him.”

“So how has he topped your first date?”

 Alice responded when she finished chewing her latest bite. Her sandwich was almost too good to put down, but she wanted to answer. “We’ve done a few more dinners, some after an event or some just because that’s what we could schedule. You know that cute little art museum a few blocks from here? We did that and had lunch last weekend, and he wants to go to the history museum soon too.”

“Wow, the history museum. Sexy.”

“You’re laughing, but it’s so sexy when he reads the little placards and stands there analyzing it, rubbing his beard in thought. Then he asks me what I think and we talk about it before moving on. And, Bits, museums mean he always dresses nice, too, like suits or sweaters.”

“Listen babe, I tease you, but you seem genuinely so happy. Better than I’ve seen you in months, easily. It sounds like he treats you well, and he should continue to do so if he knows what’s good for him.”

“He does, he really does. Did I tell you what happened when we left the art museum?”

“No, what?”

“Well, I stupidly didn’t check the weather that morning when I got ready, but obviously he did because he brought this giant umbrella. Laszlo left it in the lobby while we walked around, and of course when we went to leave it was an absolute downpour. The restaurant we wanted to try was only two blocks away, so we planned to walk.”

“Of course,” Bitsy commented between bites.

“So he gets out his umbrella, and it’s big enough for the both of us. Laszlo held it, and we walked arm in arm down the street in the rain. I felt like I was in an old Hollywood movie and we should start singing in the rain.”

“Adorable, and you should have.”

“Well,” Alice demurred, “we were so close together, arm in arm so you know we were kinda pressed against each other. I could smell his cologne, and Bits, I swear to God it felt like pheremones to me. We made out under that umbrella until the rain stopped.”

Laszlo knew he sounded like a technology-hating curmudgeon, but he preferred calling to texting. Of course, with their busy and ever-changing schedules, texting was far more convenient. However, Laszlo savored anytime Alice called him and he could hear her voice.

Typically, they talked after he ate dinner with Stevie and while she cooked her meal. Laszlo chided her for eating so late, but the timing was convenient. He could slip into his room or his office when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket without arousing undue suspicion. 

“What are you cooking tonight?” Laszlo heard the steady hum of a stovetop ventilation fan and a beeping timer. 

That was another advantage of the phone, or even better, FaceTime. There was so much more ambiance when he could hear or see. Sometimes he could spot Georgie or hear him meowing in the background. Laszlo felt he was there, despite the distance, and he could get a glimpse of her evening. It was almost domestic. 

“Pasta, hence the fan, and some chicken in the oven. I think it’s almost done, but I want to give it a few more minutes to be sure.”  

“Be careful,” he cautioned, “I know you’re worried about undercooking it, but you don’t want dry chicken either.”

“Yes chef,” she teased. “What about you? When are you going to cook for me instead of giving me advice?”

Laszlo leaned against the balcony railing and hummed in thought. He wondered that himself, but he didn’t have an easy answer. “I’m not sure, with Stevie, I-”

“-It’s okay. I would love to have you cook for me sometime, but I know with Stevie it’s more complicated. We can take our time.” 

“I appreciate it. Maybe I could cook for you in your apartment? We could have a nice night in.”

“I’d like that.” 

By now they had a routine. Laszlo would tell her about his day while she ate, and once she finished she would tell him about hers. They laughed at the similarities between her high school freshman and his college freshman. 

“Do you know what I heard today?” His students always assumed he couldn’t hear them, a fallacy of their youth. 

He could hear her setting her dishes in the sink. “What?”

“One of them said I must have ‘gotten laid recently because there wasn’t as much of a stick up my ass’.” Alice snorted, trying not to laugh. “It’s okay; it’s funny. You can laugh.”

“Mine told me something similar, but not like that. They said I must be in ‘looooove’ because I’m smiling more.” 

Laszlo rocked on his heels. “What do you think?”

“I-” she hesitated, and Laszlo instantly regretted his question. He was known for prying and pushing, and he feared it was too soon. 

“-You don’t have to answer that. I shouldn’t have asked-” Laszlo pinched the bridge of his nose and scrunched his eyebrows. 

“It’s okay, Laszlo. You didn’t push me too much.” He breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “I wouldn’t say I’m in love, yet, but I know I’m happier. What about you?”

“I feel the same.” Laszlo was glad she couldn’t see his cheesy smile.

November was chilly, even with a proper jacket. Stevie shivered and waited outside by the car line for Laszlo. Being late was unusual, so after fifteen minutes Stevie texted him. No response. At half an hour, Stevie called him.

On the last ring before going to voicemail, Laszlo picked up the phone. He immediately apologized, saying he didn’t realize what time it was and he was in the middle of an important meeting. 

“Will you be here soon?” Stevie glanced at the already fading sunlight and emptying parking lot. Laszlo paused, and from that alone Stevie knew the truth. “If you can’t, can you send Mr. Moore or Ms. Howard?”

“I need to get back to my meeting. Try Moore first, and again, I’m sorry.” Laszlo hung up quickly, barely giving Stevie time to think. He huffed a sigh and pulled up Moore’s contact information. Stevie decided to text him first: Doc’s in a meeting. Can you pick me up?

As Stevie waited for a response, he rubbed up and down his arm to warm up. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he eagerly checked. I can, but it could be half an hour to forty-five minutes. Is that okay?

Stevie thought it was better than nothing. He texted back that it was alright, and he thanked him. Since there were still cars in the parking lot, Stevie bet there were still teachers or other staff inside the warm building. He wandered down the main hallway, wondering if he should sit right there, in the library, or find an empty classroom. As he debated this, someone called out his name. His head flicked up, trying to find them. 

Ms. Greene stood at the door of the teacher work room with a stack of papers in hand. Stevie relaxed, knowing she wouldn’t get onto him about loitering around the school like some of his other teachers would. 

“What are you still doing here?” She gestured to him with her pack of copy paper. 

“Waiting to be picked up. Doc’s in a meeting so…” Stevie trailed off, not wanting to admit he had been forgotten.

She nodded once, understanding what he said between the lines. “Why don’t you hang out in my room?”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to keep you if you were about to head out or anything.”

“Please,” she scoffed, “there’s always something I can be working on. Don’t worry about it.”

Ms. Greene set her stack of papers on her desk and sat at her desk. Stevie slung his backpack off and put it by his desk. He looked around thinking how rarely he saw the room empty. It was normally packed with people, every desk was taken, and Ms. Greene would have to dodge backpacks and lunchboxes to walk around the room. By the end of the day, the desks were crooked and out of place, so Stevie started straightening them up.

“When you finish, do you want to clean them?” Stevie froze, not realizing she was paying attention to him. “There’s Clorox wipes in that cabinet.” 

“Sure, yeah.” Stevie was used to tidying up at the Institue when he was bored or restless, so he continued in her classroom. They talked while he worked making the time pass quicker. She asked about school and what other assignments he was working on in the week. He had a history paper coming up, and they were supposed to do another lab soon in biology. Stevie wasn’t worried about the paper, Laszlo taught him how to write an essay over the summer, but he was nervous about the lab. Biology wasn’t his strongest subject, but he liked Ms. Sussman’s class. 

Stevie crouched to pick up an errant highlighter, and when he heard Coach Connor’s voice cut the momentary silence he stayed where he was. In the corner, behind a group of desks, he wasn’t immediately spotted. He moved so he could see between a crack in the desks and watched.

Ms. Green recoiled, almost retreating into her desk corner. Stevie recognized her discomfort as she crossed her arms and furrowed her brow. Her eyes flicked to where he hid and back to Coach Connor. “What are you doing here?” she questioned.

“I saw your car was still in the parking lot.” What is he stalking her? She stayed quiet prompting him to keep speaking. “I wanted to see if you’d changed your mind since the conferences.”

She sighed, clearly at her wit’s end with him, “Patrick, I said no, and I meant it.”

“Are you sure-”

“-I’m sure. I have a boyfriend now, and I don’t appreciate your insistence. It is not professional or appropriate, especially while at the school.” 

Boyfriend? Stevie wondered if it was Doc. They certainly seemed to hit it off at the open house, and it would explain his weird behavior and change in mood. He would keep observing.

Coach Connor’s face flushed red, he grumbled an apology under his breath, and he turned on his heels. Once assured he was gone, Stevie sheepishly stood up from behind the desks. 

Ms. Greene’s face was in her hands. “I am so sorry about that. I don’t even know what to say…” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Stevie shrugged. “Clearly, you didn’t want him here either.

“I noticed you stayed hidden there. Has he been bothering you, too?”

Stevie sat on the desk, fiddling with the highlighter in his hand. “Yeah, kind of. He’s harder on me in P.E., that kind of thing.” He was quick to reassure her. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Are you sure? He shouldn’t be treating you like that, and I know you don’t want to be a snitch or anything, but it’s important to speak up.”

Stevie knew he should, but he didn’t want to create any problems. Doc was happier, possibly because of Ms. Greene, but this afternoon was a reminder of how much he juggled. Stevie would feel guilty adding anything else. 

In the meantime, he could deal with Coach Connor yelling at him or making him run more laps. He could stomach the football players' stupid jokes and isolation, done on Coach Connor’s orders, no doubt. 

“I’m sure,” he answered.

While Alice tweaked her slides for the week, Stevie worked on his homework. He sat at his desk for class which she chuckled at. A classroom of empty desks and students will naturally pick their own desks. Alice enjoyed having Stevie there and providing a safe space for him to wait for his ride, but she also wanted to go home. She was tired and slightly cold, and she wanted to change into a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt. 

“Hello hello.” Alice looked up from her laptop. A tall, well-dressed man with dark hair paused in the doorway. “John Schuyler Moore, and you must be Ms. Greene if the sign outside your door is correct.” He extended his hand for her to shake, and she took it. 

“Yes, I am. You must be here for Stevie.”

“I am, and hopefully he hasn’t given you too much trouble,” John winked. 

“No, he’s been wonderful-”

“-Oh, you thought I meant Stevie, no, no, I meant Laszlo.” He laughed, and she bit her tongue to keep from doing the same. “You’re the one who has to deal with him as a concerned parent.”

Alice smiled. “He’s been wonderful, too. Very communicative.” 

Stevie packed up his bag slowly, keeping an eye and an ear on their conversation. Alice was conscientious that everything she said was being analyzed. 

“It was so polite of you to let him sit in your classroom. You could’ve gone home an hour ago, enjoyed your evening, and yet here you are.”

Alice didn’t miss the way he said enjoy your evening. It was a clear innuendo that she glossed over. “It was no trouble at all. Stevie’s a good kid, and you’re a good friend to come pick Stevie up.”

“I would do anything for a friend like Laszlo. I’ve known him for almost twenty years, and I know he would do anything for me in return. He’s like that, you know,” John shrugged, “he seems tough, but he would give someone the shirt off his back if they needed it.”

“I’m sure he would.” Heat rushed to her cheeks, briefly imagining Laszlo without a shirt and the dark chest hair she would find there, and she cleared her throat. “Stevie, please, don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything. And Mr. Moore, have a good afternoon.”

***

At around nine, Alice got a text from Laszlo. She had just laid down in bed, ready to get warm and comfy for the evening, with a book and a mug of tea. She set her book aside on her nightstand and checked her phone. 

Darling, I am sorry for being so inattentive today, and I want to thank you for letting Stevie stay in your room. I appreciate it. 

Alice’s thumb hesitated over the Facetime button. She hoped Laszlo would pick up and that he didn’t text her and immediately set his phone aside. She didn’t look her best, her hair was pulled back in a messy bun and her face was still red from washing it, but she wanted to see him. 

“Hey Laz,” she smiled at him, but she was concerned. He sat at his desk, dark circles under his eyes, and creases deep in his forehead. She could see a stack of papers spread out in front of him, and he held a fountain pen in his hand. 

Laszlo smiled back at her, and it made her heart skip a beat. “I missed you today,” he drawled. “An emergency case came up, and they needed me at the courthouse and at the juvenile facility, and I have to read all this paperwork for tomorrow morning… But I needed to hear your voice and see your face.”

“Aww,” she blushed, but she knew her face was already red and he probably couldn’t tell. “Thank you, baby. It’s okay to be busy and do what you need to do.” He took a sip of what she assumed was coffee. “I just appreciate a heads up or something if you’re going to be unavailable. I could even plan to keep Stevie for a while or something if you let me know.” 

“That’s very generous of you.”

“But I must say, it was nice to finally meet one of your friends.” Laszlo groaned in embarrassment, and Alice giggled. “He was very complimentary of you.”

Laszlo set down his pen and ran his fingers through his hair. It was nice to see him relax and not think about work for a moment. “What did he say? You know he’s never going to tell me.”

Alice mocked offense. “What makes you think I’m going to tell you either?” He huffed a sigh and chuckled. “It’s admirable, really, the way he spoke about you. He would make a good wingman if you weren’t already taken.”

“John means well, obviously, he just doesn’t know everything yet.” Yet. She wondered when she would meet his friends officially, and he would meet hers. They were still in the beginning of their relationship, but she assumed since she told Bitsy, Laszlo must have told his friends something. Soon, she thought, but hopefully not too soon. Alice liked existing in their secret little bubble.

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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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#personal blog #futurama #anime #stranger things #short stories #fanfiction #marvel #the alienist

[noforkingclue]

No Questions Asked (Laszlo Kreizler x reader) Chapter 15

No Questions Asked tag list: @fandom-lover-4, @ajeff855, @booksarekindaneat, @greeneyedblondie44

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @byebyebreezywrites, @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian, @simonsbluee

“I have,” you said as you entered Sara’s agency, “a name.”

If there had been more people in it would’ve been an effective and dramatic entrance. However, only Sara was in and she looked over her shoulder when you spoke. She frowned and said,

“A name?”

“Of a possible suspect.”

This caught Sara’s attention. She put down the chalk she was using as you marched towards her.

“Who?” she asked

“A man called John Smith.”

“John Smith,” Sara raised her eyebrows in disbelief, “You think a man named John Smith killed those girls?”

“Look, I know,” you hopped onto your usual position on the table, “it’s the fakest name for someone to use as well as lots of people actually genuinely being called it.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met a John Smith.”

“Oh I’ve met plenty,” you said, “but then again they probably fall into the first category of using a fake name.”

“Is this going anywhere?”

“It’s a lead!” you said excitedly, “It’s something for us to go on!”

“Do you have a description?”

“Tall, dark haired, handsome.”

“That really narrows it down.”

“Popular with the girls.”

“The girls?”

“Yep,” you kicked your legs out, “the girls.”

“And by that you mean…”

“The prostitutes,” you said slowly, raising your eyebrows at her, “The girls. You’d be surprised what people tell them.”

“And you trust them?”

“’course! Why wouldn’t I? You think that they’re untrustworthy?”

“You pay them?”

“If they find anything useful.”

“So it didn’t cross your mind that they might give you a false lead for a quick payday?”

Sara shook her head and turned her back to you. You got off the table and walked slowly towards her.

“Oh and because people don’t give information freely it’s a reason to distrust it? Or is it where it came from?”

“I prefer to look at multiple avenues rather than just focus on one.”

“Which is what you have on this board.”

“Correct.”

“What have you found out?”

“They knew each other.”

“Huh?”

“The families,” Sara looked at you and smirked, “They each knew each other.”

“Well then,” you said, “they did keep that quiet. How do you know that they know each other?”

“John told me.”

“And John found out…”

“He’s a reporter,” Sara said bitterly, “wouldn’t tell me his source.”

“Bet he used the same as me.”

Sara glared at you but you just raised an eyebrow at her as you walked over to the board. You picked up the chalk and slowly wrote the name ‘John Smith’ on the board.

“You’d be surprised what people say in the presence of those they deem lesser,” you said with a sarcastic smile, “or how much people talk in their sleep.”

“Is that what you do? Blackmail?”

“An ugly word but yes,” you said, “How do you think I’ve survived for so long? People’s good nature?”

You underlined John Smith several times and after a moment’s pause you putting quotation marks around it. You tossed the chalk in the air before looking at Sara out of the corner of your eye and grinning.

“Multiple avenues,” you said, “Now, why don’t we show Moore and Kreizler that we’re just as competent as they are?”

For a moment you had thought you lost her. Then you saw the corner of Sara’s lip twitch and you realised that it was the exact opposite. Maybe you really had underestimated Sara.

#fanfiction #the alienist #reader insert #laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler x reader