#daniel bruhl characters

[roleplaycharacter1shots]

mangia bene, ridi spesso, ama molto

Warning(s): Fluff, mild language

Word Count: 2110

Character(s): Aston Bradley, Collette Kingsbury (not my OC; playby Alisha Wainwright)

Summary: Aston takes Collette out for a date at the end of a long work week.

Title Italian for “eat well, laugh often, love much.”

A belated birthday present for my beta reader and friend, Jas. Using Prompt #823 (Whatever would happen next, this was the moment they wanted to remember.) Permission to reblog, @creativepromptfills.

---

When the clock struck four, Aston was more than happy to set his quill aside. He had not been able to complete all of his work for the day, but he had finished enough. The amount of paperwork the Bradley Company required of him was neverending, something that had taken Aston quite a while to come to terms with. He had to end his day at some point, or else he would never leave his desk. It was quite easy for him to lose track of time, resulting in Aston working well into the night more often than not.

Luckily, today, he had other plans to pull him away. Of course, anything that involved his gorgeous girlfriend made Aston more than willing to leave his desk on time. And that was exactly what he had to look forward to this evening. Collette had come into London and arrived at Bradley Hall the night before, and Aston was eager to spend time with her. While she was not the owner of an art company, Aston believed that she was just as busy as he was and very much deserved some time off. The art world never stopped, especially for those involved in its preservation and curation. They both definitely needed a breather, separating themselves from their work and taking time to enjoy one another. Aston practically flew out of his office and up the main staircase, quickly heading to his room to prepare for the evening.

After changing his shirt to one that was a bit more casual, he began his search for Collette to see if she was also ready. At first, he was unsure as to where she could be. He ended up having to ask his butler, Mr. Cadbury, if he had seen his girlfriend recently. To Aston’s amusement, he was redirected to the library. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling as he carefully entered the large room and immediately found Collette. She was snuggled down in one of the armchairs, surrounded by small stacks of the books she had pulled from the shelves. It was quite clear that she had settled herself in for a few hours.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Aston said softly when he approached. His grin grew as Collette looked up at him. Her face practically glowed as she provided him with her own smile. “You look like you’re having a lovely time, darling, but I’m afraid it is time for me -” He placed a hand on the back of her chair before bending down to kiss her. “- to take you away.”

“Aw, already?” Collette pouted, but her quick giggle afterward indicated that she was teasing. She closed the book she had been reading before setting it aside. However, she did not make a move to get out of the chair just yet. “Sweet Circe, and I was just getting so comfortable…” Collette groaned playfully. She laid limply back in her seat, watching with a small smirk as Aston moved to stand before her.

He extended his hands to assist her upright, bringing her into his arms with a gentle tug. “I’m afraid so,” Aston replied, feigning his own sadness before releasing a chuckle. “As much as I would love to stay here -” He pressed his lips to each of her cheeks in turn. “- and kiss every inch of you -” Aston kissed her forehead before meeting her mouth with his. His next words came out as a purr against her skin. “- but unfortunately -” Aston let out a gentle sigh as he moved back to gaze into Collette’s eyes. “- we do have reservations.”

Aston was not one to typically demonstrate such displays of affection, but in the privacy of his home with no wandering eyes, he wanted to do nothing more than shower his girlfriend with his adoration. He couldn’t help but chuckle a little as she looked back at him with a slightly glazed-over expression as a result. His own manner shifted into something similar as he watched Collette softly bite her lower lip. Aston’s grip tightened on her arm, unable to stop himself from kissing her again. Whatever would happen next, this was the moment he wanted to remember.

“Reservations?” Collette asked once they had parted at last. Her eyes sparkled, and it was a sight that made her boyfriend’s heart feel full. “Where?”

It took Aston another heartbeat, but he was able to reorient himself to the reason he had come to collect Collette to begin with. “You shall see shortly,” he answered with a knowing smile. He began to walk backward toward the door, guiding her into following him. “Venga, darling. Come. Let us go.” And Aston led Collette off into the London night, hand in hand.

Along the way to their destination, the pair talked about how each of their work weeks had gone. Aston was fascinated by how Collette described her museum’s newest arrival, a Schamberg piece. Being a Europe-based dealer, he did not have nearly as much firsthand experience with North American works as she did. He thoroughly adored listening to his girlfriend tell him of the intricacies of the Schamberg art, seeing it all through her eyes. Aston could listen to her talk for hours about her passion, especially with her American accent coating every syllable.

The couple rounded one more corner before Aston slowed his pace. “We’re here,” he said. He gestured with his free hand towards the small shop to their left. In delicate print on the glass front was the name of their destination: For Goodness Cakes. Aston moved forward to hold the door open for Collette, allowing the sweet and yeasty scents from within to wash over her. “After you.”

“Aston,” Collette breathed as she stepped inside the bakery. “Sweet Circe, it smells amazing in here.” Her boyfriend chuckled as he followed, watching her take it all in. For a moment or two, she was captivated by the vast displays of sponge cake tiers, tarts, and Yorkshire pudding. However, it didn’t take Collette very long to notice how they were the only patrons in the shop. “Aston,” she said after a small pause. As she turned to face him again, Collette saw that he was standing before a table intricately set for two by the window. “Oh, Aston…”

“I booked the place for the evening,” he replied.

“Aston…” She was lost for words. “I…”

Aston moved to join Collette, reaching to take both of her hands in his. “Just the two of us surrounded by and provided some of the most decadent pastries London has to offer.” He couldn’t help but smile at her speechless excitement.

“I can’t believe you did this for me,” Collette finally replied. She laughed before leaning upward to kiss him.

“Only the best for you, darling.” Aston gave her fingers a gentle squeeze, guiding her to her seat before sitting opposite. He released Collette’s hands to pour them each a glass of wine. “Salute,” Aston said as their glasses clinked together. “Shall we enjoy some treats?”

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” she replied with a grin.

The next half hour consisted of a beautiful assortment of Chelsea buns, flaky pasties, and puddings. Collette often remarked how they were all too pretty to eat, but the pair of them had no problem enjoying themselves once they took a bite. Once again, Aston was enthralled by conversation, listening as his girlfriend discussed how she had a bakery back in America that she loved to frequent. He could easily imagine the cupcakes in the glass cases, the decadent chocolate cakes on their porcelain stands, and the larger-than-life macadamia nut cookies carefully wrapped in plastic. If the scents of the present weren’t so prominent, Aston knew that he would be able to smell them as well.

Eventually, the plates before them consisted of nothing but crumbs. The setting sun shone through the window, framing Collette’s form in the soft light. Aston smiled to himself at the sight, for a moment lost for words. He then reached across the table to intertwine their fingers together. Collette paused her nibbling on the last piece of millionaire shortbread, blushing slightly under her boyfriend’s gaze. He took another moment to finish off his wine before speaking. “Thank you for spending this time with me,” Aston said as he set his glass aside. “I wouldn’t have had tonight be any other way.”

“Aston,” Collette scolded gently, her eyes twinkling again. “You don’t need to thank me. I should be thanking you, for goodness sake! This has been lovely.”

“You are very welcome, darling.” Aston brought her knuckles to his lips. “Now -” Taking the hand he was holding, he got to his feet. “It’s time for a nice stroll by the river to help settle our stomachs.” Once Collette was at his side once more, Aston poured the remainder of the wine bottle into each of their glasses. He handed his girlfriend hers before taking up his. “To our glorious and talented bakers!” Aston called as he raised his beverage to toast their hosts. “Everything was wonderful, thank you for having us!”

His girlfriend delightfully echoed his praise. “Truly, the best desserts I’ve tasted in a while. Thank you!” Collette then chose to lead the way, heading back out to the pavement. “And you -” Releasing Aston’s hand, Colette grasped the front of his shirt instead so that he was inches from her face. At first, a flicker of fear crossed Aston’s features, but the smile that he was met with made it melt away instantly. “You need to stop spoiling me so much,” she said. “But I do appreciate it. This was very nice, thank you.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, darling,” Aston replied softly. He inclined his head so that his lips met her knuckles. “Venga.” He gently pried her hand free to grasp it once more. “Come. Before we head back home, we need to watch the sunset.” The pair began to move again down the street, heading for a location with a view overlooking the river. They arrived just in time, the sky tinging dark but still overwhelmed with purple and pink, orange and yellow, red and navy.

Collette eased herself comfortably into Aston’s side, finishing off the last sip of wine. He tilted his head over and down to press the side of it against Collette’s, his empty hand snaking around her waist. The connection brought her to turn to him, that smile that made Aston’s knees weak on her face. He fully embraced the deep kiss that Collette gave him next, just barely managing to keep from dropping his glass. Aston closed his eyes, inhaling her presence and scent. He could feel his girlfriend’s fingers tightening on his shirt, her chest lifting slightly as she did the same with him. Collette’s touch was intoxicating, forcing him to see her and her alone. Aston could hold her in his arms for a lifetime, and it still would not be enough.

“I love you.”

The statement fell from Aston’s mouth before he could even really think about it. It had somehow traveled from the crevices of his brain and the depths of his heart before escaping in a hush over his tongue. It also took Collette a moment to realize what he had said because… it was the first time she had heard it from Aston. While her cheeks were already flushed from their closeness, they somehow managed to flare redder as she paused their passion.

When it clicked for her boyfriend seconds after, his features blanched instead. “I…” Aston’s mouth was dry. He was still unable to look away from his girlfriend, but his heart was pounding in a much more frantic way. Shit, he swore in his head. Shit, shit. It may be just three little words, but when used together, they made by far one of the most impactful phrases. And he had just blurted it out without any preamble like it hadn’t meant anything at all -

“Ti amo.”

Aston blinked. “What?” he asked, despite how he understood what Collette had just said. 

She gave a small shrug, chuckling a little. “Ti amo,” she repeated.

He was taken aback, but his adoration for the young woman gazing at him came rushing back in. For a heartbeat, Aston had doubted his own feelings, wondering if he had jumped the gun in expressing them. But Collette had just as easily returned the favor and more. Watching the way she shyly giggled at the grin slowly growing on his face made him realize that he had done exactly the right thing. “Ti amo,” he replied before kissing Collette Kingsbury, the love of his life.

[weclassybouquetfun]

In 2021 the limited series on the career of designer Halston (Roy Halston Frowick, portrayed by Ewan McGregor) waltzed down Netflix's catwalk. Now we have at least three series chronicling the lives and careers of designers.

Currently on Disney+ in Europe is the exquisite CRISTÓBAL BALENCIAGA centering on, guess who? Spanish designer Cristobal Balenciaga, starring Alberto San Juan (Reyes De La Noche) as Balenciaga.

It's an interesting story about this enigmatic fashion genius that shows his steadfastness in his devotion to fashion to the sacrifice, some may say, of ethics due to the fact that while other fashion houses were shut down during Germany's occupation of some parts of France, he readily made clothes for the significant others of German soldiers.

The series also shines a light on Balenciaga's relationship with his creative partner and love-of-his-life Wladzio d'Attainville (played by Thomas Coumans).

Among the designers who appear or are name-checked in CRISTÓBAL BALENCIAGA is Christian Dior and Coco Chanel. These two fashion legends will appear in AppleTV+'s upcoming mini-series THE NEW LOOK with Ben Mendelsohn as Dior and Juliette Binoche as Coco Chanel and takes place during Germany's occupation of France.

THE NEW LOOK will feature covers of classics by Florence + and The Machine, Lana del Rey, The 1975, Perfume Genius and more.

Sometimes this year (at least I hope this year) will be KAISER KARL (apparently the title may be changed) starring Daniel Brühl as Kunty Karl Lagerfeld

centering on him as a 38-year old trying to break into the Parisian world of high fashion where he finds himself in competition with he finds himself in competition with French fashion giants like Yves Saint Laurent.

The only Yves Saint Laurent depiction worth a damn. RIP beautiful Gaspard Ulliel 

What is fashion if there's no one to wear it? For example, the high society ladies that will be depicted in the upcoming installment of FX's FEUD: CAPOTE VS. THE SWANS.

Hopefully this series will do justice to the mythos behind writer Truman Capote's nuclear fall out with the so-called Swans - a moniker Capote gave the socialites whose company he kept and whose secrets he didn't.

Playing Capote is Tom Hollander

Naomi Watts as Babe Paley, wife of CBS founder William S. Paley (which the annual PaleyFest is named after), Diane Lane as Slim Keith, ex-wife of famed director Howard Hawks, producer Leland Hayward amongst others; Calista Flockhart as Lee Radziwill, sister of Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, Demi Moore Ann Woodward who got her place in society by being the wife of a banking heir,

Demi, that looks like a flamingo, not a swan.

Chloe Sevigny as Andy Warhol and Salvador Dali muse C.Z. Guest, Molly Ringwald as JoAnne Carson, ex-wife of late-night talk show host Johnny Carson and the only Swan who remained friends with Capote after his ouster from their social circle.

TBT Elle magazine getting animated with fashion.

Goofy as Kunty Karl Lagerfeld.

[rachreads]

i’ve thought long and hard about this one.

[jewel-pixelheart]

Marvel OCs Links :

Here you will find all my Marvel related OCs and Arts :

OCs

Karina Nagy - Ref Sheet (OC)

Karina & Zemo - Short Comic

You know I can read minds ? (Karina x Zemo)

Guess Who ? (Karina x Zemo)

Do you think mom will like it ? (Pietro & Zemo)

MCU OC - What if...

Fan Arts

Baron Zemo Fanart

[manicpixiedreamsaren]

meehhhhh daniel bruhl as niki lauda was hot blah blah

NIKI LAUDA AS NIKI LAUDA WAS HOT

he meowmeowed so hard

[pickledpascal]

writing fics i was supposed to have finished last year....

[lavieaquatique]

i like my men like i like daniel’s characters: unhinged, sometimes emo, sometimes bald but always drama queens

[f1yogurt]

Niki Lauda (either real or movie version or both! Dealer’s choice) and Laszlo Kreizler

Niki - movie version

looks: somewhat attractive | eh | not really my type | pretty | handsome | beautiful | stud | gorgeous | SWEET LORD MERCY

can you relate to this character on a personal level?: no | not really | somewhat | yes | they are me

would you date/be friends with this character in real life if they were real?: total bros | friends | best friends | date | become their steady boyfriend/ girlfriend | neither | i don’t kno (I legit can't choose)

Laszlo

looks: somewhat attractive | eh | not really my type | pretty | handsome | beautiful | stud | gorgeous | SWEET LORD MERCY

can you relate to this character on a personal level?: no | not really | somewhat | yes | they are me

would you date/be friends with this character in real life if they were real?: total bros | friends | best friends | date | become their steady boyfriend/ girlfriend | neither | i don’t kno

character ask game!!

[birdstooth]

Top 5 Halloween costumes for Nat, go

[blackleatherjacketz]

Point of No Return

Baron Helmut Zemo x Original Female Character

Summary: While preparing for a mission where she has to seduce their target, Zemo convinces her to show him how she plans on doing it.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only!, Explicit Smut, Daniel Bruhl’s Magnetic Essence, Dubious Consent, Manipulation, Sugar Daddy Undertones, Soft Dom Zemo, Roleplay, Oral Sex (Male and Female Receiving), Vaginal Sex, Lingerie, Dresses, Tuxedos, Kissing, Face Holding, Teasing, Hair Pulling, Zemo’s Hands, Eye Contact, Classical Music References, Zemo Possibly Catching Feelings

Word Count: 3.7K

Tags: Thank you to @bullet-prooflove for helping me concoct this universe! @letsby @imadeadpoett @mrsmaxwelllord @genevievedarcygranger​

Read more MARVEL stories!

“How does it fit?” He doesn’t bother to look at her as she walks into his room wearing the gown he had made especially for her, one he was certain would fit every curve and angle of her body. He takes care to glance over just as she looks away, pretending not to notice how the vibrant color of the cloth complements the olive tones in her skin, accented only by the raven locks that cascade down her shoulders.

“Well enough, I guess.” She lifts her arms up, defeated by the fact that her chromosomes drew her the short straw in the group tonight.

She had dressed up a handful of times before; weddings, parties and funerals all placing her in dresses of varying lengths throughout her lifetime, but none of them were quite like this. None of them had clung so tightly to her skin, restricted her movement or made her feel so incredibly vulnerable that she questioned her ability to carry out her skill set in the presence of her colleagues… and him.

The baron looks up at her as she slowly turns around in front of him, noticing that the zipper on the back of her dress is still only halfway up. “You’re not zipped all the way.”

“What?” She turns to each side to get a better view of the back of her dress, bending her arms backward in a failed attempt to get a grip on the elusive zipper, splaying her fingers out across the fabric.

“Here,” he presses his lips together and walks toward her, motioning for her to turn around, “Allow me.”

She walks over to the full sized mirror to get a better look at herself, making an effort to grab hold of her dress as if to show him that she can do it herself. She’ll be damned if she actually needs a man to help her to get into this thing, even if he is the one who paid for it. And the flat they’re currently staying in. And their mode of transportation. And all their meals. And everything else.

Damnit.

She huffs before letting go of the silky cloth, reluctantly letting him take his place behind her. Although she had thought about it a few times before, she had never let the baron get this close to her, heeding her partners’ warnings of his hidden agendas and dual nature. Even with the heels she has on he still towers over her, the top of her head barely meeting his eyeline as they both look straight forward into the mirror. It’s almost as if they’re posing for a formal portrait, a snapshot of this moment in time portraying them as an opulent couple who had been together for years, his hand finding a sudden familiarity on her lower back.

“It suits you,” he whispers into her ear, tracing his way down her shoulder blade with his opposite hand.

“Does it?” She keeps her eyes on their reflection in the mirror, hoping that her makeup is heavy enough to hide the flushing of her cheeks as his fingers send a shiver down her spine. She’s supposed to be getting into character, one who is single and ready to mingle with their target long enough for Sam and Bucky to get the information they need; not one who can’t get over the intoxicating scent of her benefactor’s cologne.

“You don’t think so?” He takes his time feathering his fingertips over her silken strap as it curves its way into the unfastened bodice. He follows it down the inner arch of her back, noticing the absence of black lace or any other delicate fabric underneath. “You’re not wearing the lingerie I set out for you.”

“It was too bulky, didn’t look right.” She pauses as he excites the skin on her lower back, sparking a hint of heat into her core. “It’s just been a while since I’ve worn a dress, is all,” she starts to explain herself, feeling his breath warm against her hairline as his lips brush the shell of her ear.

Good God, why does he have to be so fucking handsome?

“You should wear them more often.” He reaches the tiny metal zipper at the base of her spine and slowly pulls it upward before laying it down flush against the material of her bodice. “You’re a vision in red, but every piece of your costume serves a purpose, tells a part of the story.” He takes a breath, pausing before continuing on, “You’re going to have to do more than just look the part tonight.”

“I know that,” she says, more to herself than to him as she watches his hand smooth its way over her hip in the mirror. She holds her breath as he guides it up her belly, inhaling as it curves over her breast and touches the bare skin on her chest.

“Do you?” He reaches her chin with the pads of his fingers, turning her face away from the mirror. “You’re going to have to distract him.” He tilts her chin up so that she has no other choice but to look into the dark caramel of his eyes. “You’re going to have to seduce him.”

“I can do that.” Her sentence wavers as it leaves her lips, a pathetic whisper of a promise as he drags his fingers off of her face.

“Can you?” He lets go of her completely, taking a step back before turning on his heel. “Sam seems to have a lot of confidence in your abilities, but I have my doubts.”

“Really?” She watches him walk away from her, his musk still lingering on her skin as he casually makes his way over to the vanity. “Is that why you can’t stop touching me?” She does her best to sound level headed as she challenges him, her body already yearning for his touch. “Your doubts?”

“My attraction to you isn’t in question here.” He states the obvious so matter-of-factly that it takes her by surprise, keeping any rebuttal she may have prepared still in her throat. “Your ability to stand out from the dozens of other European socialites is. And we want him… need him to do more than just touch you.”

“I can’t apologize enough for being an American,” she puts her hands on her hips, still flustered by his flippancy, “But I can do a British accent if you want.”

“No.” He puts a hand up to stop her before letting it fall to his side. “I want you to be as believable as possible.”

“Okay, then I just won’t talk as much.” She takes a deep breath. “That usually works on men of any social class, they all love the sound of their own voice.”

“Is that so?” He scoffs, leaning his back against the vanity. “If you’re so confident in your skills, then why don’t you show me what you plan on doing.”

Her heart nearly stops as it’s beating, its last contraction a loud and heavy thump in her chest as she swallows the lump in her throat. If he wanted her so badly, then why didn’t he just keep touching her? Why didn’t he take the chance to kiss her when his lips were so close to her mouth only moments ago? Why pull away at all? Maybe he is just as manipulative as Sam had warned her about.

“Excuse me?” She checks, her eyebrows nearly disappearing into her hairline as his lips curl into a smirk.

He can’t be serious, can he?

He merely nods with a sound confidence that only the baron of Sokovia could have. “I’d like to see how you’re going to keep his attention. The lives of dozens of people depend on it.”

“Well,” she starts, eager to play his game. They have a few hours to kill before the party starts, and she can’t think of any better way to fill each passing minute than to get his hands back on her body. “I’ll walk by him and… I’ll give him the look.” She’s never really had to think through what she’s done in the past to get a man’s attention. It always just seemed to happen to her without her really trying.

“The look?” He stands up straight, tilting his head to get a better grasp of the idea.

“You know…” she turns to the side and glances at him, lashes batting with feigned desire. “The look.”

“And?”

“And?” She laughs, exacerbated. “And I’ll look away then wait for him to approach me.” She looks up to see an unamused look on his face, his brow furrowed in concentration. “I’ll laugh at his jokes, touch his arm, touch my neck, things like that.”

“And if he doesn’t have any jokes for you to laugh at? What then?” He raises his eyebrows scoldingly, his tone dripping with acid. “Julian isn’t nearly as kind or as generous as I am, and it’s imperative that you distract him tonight. We can’t count solely on the luck you’ve had with men in the past.”

“What makes you think I’ve had any luck in the past?” She decides to commit to the bit wholeheartedly now, wondering what it will take to bring that sensual side of the baron back out to play. She steps toward him in her heels, careful not to make too much noise in them as she corners him against the dresser.

“Women like you usually haven’t had to seduce anyone before.” He inhales as she gets closer, pressing his back against the vanity as the different colored liquids sway to and fro inside their delicate glass bottles.

“Women like me?” She smiles and touches the hem of his waistcoat, a timeless piece he undoubtedly kept in storage from a lifetime ago. “What do you know about women like me?” She slides her fingers up his chest, following the design of his tuxedo to the fastened collar of his dress shirt.

“I know enough.” His words barely blow a few stray strands of hair away from her face, their tone shaking just a little at the end.

“Really?” She stands up even higher on her tiptoes, the bottom of her heels leaving the ground as she smoothes her hand beneath his tuxedo jacket. “You seem so confident in your skills.” She uses his own line against him, whispering her taunt against his ear as she slides her hand up the base of his neck. “But your years behind bars would prove that you’re a little out of practice.” She smiles against his skin as his palms warm her waist.

“One would venture to say that it’s as easy as pedaling a bicycle.” His fingers find the zipper they spent so much time and effort pulling up just moments before, holding it delicately between his thumb and forefinger. “A muscle memory, if you will.” He tugs it slowly down her backside, loosening her bodice along with the straps around her shoulders.

“Well, I’ve always heard that practice makes perfect.” She presses her fingers into his hairline, forcing him to look down at her as she brings her other hand up to mirror its movements. She can smell his cologne even deeper at this proximity, his raging pulse enriching the notes of cedar wood and patchouli into her nostrils as she massages his scalp. It’s different than anything else she’s ever smelled before, a perfect signature scent for a man unlike anyone else she’s ever met before.

She continues to card her fingers through his hair as she gazes upon him, the chestnut hues in his irises making way for expanding pupils as they dart nervously over her features. She can feel his chest as it rises against hers, expanding with each prolonged inhalation as his heart beats wildly inside. He must be just as rapt as she is with the scent he dabbed onto her wrists earlier, a rich floral perfume with a hint of orange that is ‘fit for a queen’, if she remembers his words correctly. She presses her thumbs into his temples before sliding them down his cheeks to hold his face merely millimeters away from her own.

“Don’t you want to be perfect?” She parts her lips and feathers them over his, teasing the idea of a kiss that’s only just out of reach.

“More than anything.” He nods as he takes her in, his body giving him away as his nose gently nudges into hers. He opens his mouth and kisses her, tasting the savory combination of her lips and tongue as he slides his hands up the muscles of her exposed back. He pulls her in close, finally exhaling into her as he lets his guard down for the very first time in over a decade. He wants to relish every inch of her, to memorize how she feels as she trembles against him, but he must stay on track.

“Remove my jacket,” he tells her, smoothing his palms across her neck and shoulders before letting his arms fall to his side.

She nods and presses her hands over his chest, sliding her fingers beneath the thick black fabric of his coat. She takes her time sliding it off of his arms, carefully folding it in half before draping it over the back of the chair next to the bed.

“Now my tie.” His words are cold against the warmth of her cheek as she unfastens his off-white bow tie. “You’re doing well, darling, but I’m going to need you to look up at me with those eyes while you undress me.” He lifts her chin with a curled finger beneath it, holding himself back from tugging on her bottom lip with his thumb. “Let him know how badly you want it.” He tries to circle back to his original plan by taking his own needs and desires out of the situation, but it’s obvious that he’s already dipped his toe into the shoreline of the point of no return.

“Okay.” She finishes pulling his tie out of his collar, the fancy bow now reduced to a single flat piece of cloth as she makes quick work of unbuttoning his vest and shirt between intentional stolen glances.

With his clothes off he’s absolutely beautiful, his broad chest and trim figure nothing how she imagined it would be, but somehow that much more alluring to her. Dark hair scatters its way across his chest, mixing in with a constellation of moles down his belly and into his pants that seem to be growing tighter in between his thighs, proving the effectiveness of her skills.

“Now get out of that dress and onto the bed.” His order ties a knot into her stomach, the authoritative tone of his voice pulling on her muscles as his callous words do more for her libido than she cares to admit. She should probably unpack the origin of that gut reaction when she gets a chance, but there’s a time and place for all of that.

She turns around and unzips the rest of her gown, casually sliding it off her shoulders with ease as she steps out of her heels. She takes a moment to look back at him with her practiced stare, catching him with a hungry look in his eye as she follows his instructions. She only smirks before looking away again, stepping out of the gown and over to the king sized bed in her bare feet. She hears him undress his bottom half on his own, the sound of him undoing his belt buckle and pants zipper echoing loudly in this tiny little bedroom as she climbs up onto the freshly made bed.

She takes her time turning over onto her back, spreading her legs in full display as he finally approaches her, now just as naked as she is. All of the sudden he isn’t this manipulative mastermind who lied, cheated and killed his way to revenge. He isn’t an escaped felon, a criminal or an enemy of the state. He isn’t even a baron, her benefactor, or the one hope to get the information she needs for this mission.

He’s just a man.

She sits up and reaches out to him, wrapping her fingers around his wrist before bringing his hand to her breast. She waits for him to squeeze it before looking up at him just like he’s told her to, letting her eyes fill up with desire as he grows right in front of her face. “Still doubting my skills, Baron?” She chides, opening her mouth to lick his tip.

“No.” He takes a deep breath as she tastes him, slowly taking more of him into her mouth as her perfect lips wrap around his cock. “Not at all.” He runs his other hand through her hair, tucking it behind her ear as she opens the back of her throat to take him in completely. He lets his eyelids fall down as her lips reach his pelvis, tugging on her hair so that her tongue encases his shaft as she sucks her way back up. He guides her back down again, repeating the motion over and over as he nearly gets lost in how good her mouth feels as it glides over his throbbing member. He can’t get over how the warmth of her lips and the sensation of her tongue are far superior than that of his hand slick with spit in the cool recesses of his prison cell.

He also can’t get over the fact that he’s actually here, a conditionally free man who gets to enjoy a woman so utterly gorgeous as she does nearly anything that he asks…. a real, tangible woman. She looks so beautiful like this, eyes wide as she nearly chokes on his girth, saliva dripping down the corners of her mouth. He could finish like this in a matter of minutes if he wanted to, his hand in her hair as she swallows his release; leaving Sam and James none the wiser to their current activities, but he wants something more. He wants to know what she feels like from the inside, how the warmth of her cunt compares to the warmth of her mouth as her features contort with the pleasure he’s so ready to give her.

He pulls her off of him and loosens his grip on her hair, smoothing it out as he memorizes every curve of her face before leaning down to kiss her. He can feel himself walking straight into the depth of his desires, subconsciously crossing that line between motivation and need, between restraint and reckless abandon. At this point he doesn’t care what they’re supposed to be doing or how he’s supposed to be acting, all he can bring himself to care about is how he can taste himself on her lips as he presses his knees into the mattress.

He pushes her onto her back and climbs on top of her, kissing his way up her legs before tasting the moisture between her thighs, savoring the delicacy of her tangy flavor with muffled moans. He feels her fingers weave their way into his hair as she writhes beneath him, groaning as he laps her up until those groans increase in pitch, climbing up the octave scale one note at a time. It’s as if she’s singing her very own aria, telling the story of her pleasure to the centuries-old walls as he greedily dines on her flesh.

He grabs onto her wrists as the twitching of her hips becomes more sporadic, holding them down at her sides as that inner music moves its way through her. It steals her breath, turning that consistent vibrato in her lungs to a stifled staccato as her flavor grows sweeter beneath his tongue. It’s the most divine thing he’s ever heard in his life, each note sticking out in his memory forever as he kisses his way up her pelvis and chest, trying his best not to suck a few bruises into the delicate skin of her neck.

He releases his grip on her wrists, lifting her thighs around his waist as she nods for him to continue, pushing that staccato deep inside of her. He watches her mouth fall open as he stretches her out, leaning down to kiss her lips as he takes his turn adding his own groans to their proper duet. He takes advantage of the freedom of these walls, moaning into her as she envelops him with her velvety warmth, bringing him even closer to the brink.

He grabs onto her jaw as he rocks into her, gradually picking up the pace as their hearts provide the drum beat to their chaotic song of groans and grunts. He can’t help but bury his face in her shoulder to soften his fervor, tasting the salt of her skin as she reaches another octave while he pushes inside at a brand new angle.

“You feel so good,” she barely whispers, crossing her legs behind his back to keep him there. “Oh my God, Zemo!” She wraps her arms around his back in a similar fashion, pulling him in even closer as their steady collection of notes build upon each other, one right after the other with each rhythmic thrust of his hips until they both reach the height of their crescendo.

He cries out against her shoulder as the pleasure washes over him, releasing his bliss inside her walls in irregular spurts as he merges his body with hers, both of them vibrating in rhythm together. He kisses his way up her neck and jawline, still holding her face in his hand as he kisses her lips and cheeks. He pulls back, opening his mouth as if to say something mean or witty, to reinstate the power dynamics of their relationship, but the ecstasy wreaking havoc on his nervous system won’t let that happen. Instead he only kisses her again, soft and gentle as he rests his forehead against hers while he allows himself to forget everything that’s happened except for this very moment. He allows himself another scene of romance after their passionate duet, knowing full well that it can only last as long as it takes for the curtain to fall and the next act to begin.

[supercalifragipopculturevomit]

Omg so I just discovered your blog and I’m actually SCREAMINGGGGG an entire blog dedicated to Daniel Bruhl??? 😩🤩🤩 I feel like he’s so uoderappreiacted for his acting skills and his appearance tbh he’s soo handsome. Do you write fics for any of his characters?

Isn't he just?? I turn to Tumblr precisely for this reason: nobody in my actual life understands how ridiculously talented and beautiful he is and it's driving me mad.

I mean, Jesus Christ, look at him...

I don't write fics but I entertain myself sometimes by imagining movies I'd love to see him in. In one, he's cast in a psychological sci-fi slow-burn thriller with Elisabeth Moss. In another, he's in a decades-spanning love story with Carey Mulligan. They should be together but it never happens... it's bittersweet but cathartic. A slick spy film set in World War II with Rebecca Ferguson would be amazing. I can also picture him in a dark satirical comedy directed by Bong Joon-ho where he plays a small but crazy (scene-stealing) character.

[elysefz]

HSHQTASK059: FAREWELL !

when did you join ? what made you join ? what do you remember from the plotlines that were current at the time ? where were you in life when you joined and where are you now ?

i was in college! april 2018. but i was looking for something new to join. i liked the political aspect of the rp, it was still a pairs rp with the alliance system that seemed fun. i was in the middle of my political science major so i liked the idea of using what i was learning. also the main was very pretty. a lot of it was new to me, that's when we were all using icons and i didn't know what the heck small text was.

which characters have you written over the years ?

oh no, let's see: elyse, aslan, michael, daisuke, roxanna, stella, rebeka (i think was her name??) (stella part 1 kinda), ester (remember the pons?), domas (daisuke part 1 lbr), there was a daniel bruhl fc early on rip to him, ming fa (jianguo part 1), jianguo (my sweet boy, i did you dirty), queen of nambia i don't remember your name but you were fun, duchess of brittany i think?

what is your favourite plotline that you've been part of ?

andorra! also layslan my beloved.

what about other people's plotlines ?

the russian plots were always super sexy and the zulus were so good. also england. just all of it.

who is your favourite character from the ones you've played ? why ? what made you love them ? what made them so fun to write ?

elyse, my little nightmare. she grew up with me it feels like. i was studying nationalism and populism in my undergrad degree and i wanted to play with those styles of politics. she's so screwed up but i love her. her insecurity and the way that makes her clings to her choices, even when they are clearly bad. i think we all do that sometimes, we fear something and the create the situation that we fear. honorable mention to my baby michael and my favorite villain domas/daisuke who would just plan fun.

if you could relive a plotline, which would it be ?

i wish i could live in farnauld forever. novel version when?

is there a plotline that you'd edit now if you could ?

probably my early ones, like early prussia. i learned so much in this half decade about writing, storytelling, and working in a group. i am entirely grateful to all of you for teaching me with kindness and love.

what's a plotline you wish you would have been able to finish before closing or just write more of ?

i'm not going to lie, i've had kalyse on my mind recently. but we had a whole thing with michael planned out and northern ireland which would have been fun. and we had some stuff planned for daisuke too that would have been interesting. also, if we had done it, you would have screamed at the mexico/cuba plot

what is your favourite ooc memory ?

all of them but hshqmas is always a delight. also all the april fools admin announcements which got me every year and now this *weeps*

where can others find you if they want to get in touch ?

i'm on discord as ladyjane and my rph is @abbydoesrph. maybe i'll up a 1x1 someday. idk hmu.

what else would you like to say ?

i'm not going to say everything i want to say because i'm in my feelings. i feel like i grew up in hshq; as a person and as a writer. i've joined and left a lot of groups in this time but i always come back here. come home. i want to say thank you. and thank you for your patience and communication and still loving me when i know i screwed up. i can only hope i've left you with as many good feelings as you all have left me with. and thank you in particular to the admins for your care, attention, and dedication to the group. honestly, you're outstanding. i wish i had bosses who would asked for and provided feedback as well you three. all of my love, and i mean all of it, to hshq. xoxo.

[rachreads]

daniel bruhl characters as dril tweets

made by my friend and shamelessly stolen by me (with permission)

[jewel-pixelheart]

The Alienist OC

Laszlo have been obsessed with Délina since the first time he saw her on stage. But he never been courageous enough to approach her.

Months before the investigation on the murder of Santorelli, Dr. Kreizler found the occasion to talk to Miss Auclair for the first time. Since then, their started to see each over regularly.

This investigation permitted to Laszlo to be more open and confident towards his friends and partners. Now sure of his true feelings, Laszlo will ask his long time crush and friend Délina Auclair in marriage.

Around 9 months later, Délina will give birth to their first child, a little girl name Madelaine.

Délina belong to me

Do not copy, retrace or use my art without my consent !

[nev3rfound]

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

[pickledpascal]

im collecting actors on my masterlist like the infinity stones