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oh-for-fic-sake · 4 years

Text

Brucie Baby~

You decide to top Bruce.

Masterlist

Warning: Adult situations +18, Smut, Oral, Teasing, Femdom switch, Name calling, Swearing, Anal, Dubcon, Spitting (once)

A/n: okay so... Yeah as you can probably tell by now I am more of a bottom, but I really really wanted to give this a shot not to sure how I feel about it but I do hope that people like it, its really smutty. enjoy xx

Taglist @125bluemachine125

Brucie Baby~

Bruce was down in the Bat cave working on his latest device upon taking Clark's advice he had taken you to the hospital for a heart check up. As it turned out you do have an abnormal heart rate, an arrhythmia tachycardia no murmur or damage yet and not dangerous thank god but you needed to have it monitored. So Bruce was making you a tiny ecg, much like the ones on sports watches but as you had refused to wear one he was making one in the form of a thin flat delicate chain mail looking bracelet with a small platinum plate with Sweets engraved underneath and a small onyx on the top the bracelet was a modern looking piece small and was versatile, it would go with anything and more importantly it would send the data straight to his phone and computer wirelessly, he even set it up to log in the bat computer just to make sure it was never lost. He may or may not have also put a teeny tiny tracker on it to but you wouldn't be privy to either just yet holding his breath as he clipped the last piece in place holding it to the inside of his wrist then outside checking the data on his phone as it lit up recording his pulse, with one last look he was satisfied he pulled it away tucking it into a velvet lined gift box bought specifically for the piece. Standing he stretched looking up at the time six am he would need to be ready to leave at eight. It was your six month anniversary and you were both going to spend the week at his own little slice of paradise, since what was now called 'the incident' things had changed slightly he was a little hesitant when being intimate, not that he didn’t love you or anything like that he would argue that you didn’t just own his heart, you was his heart but he was afraid of hurting you at first it was because of your injuries, then your it was your heart now he was just worried not wanting to accidentally hurt you, not only that but he was stressed, he kept on replaying that night over and over, the way he slammed the breaks but knew he wasn’t going to stop in time, all he could do was watch as you came closer and closer. He was so close to loosing you that he didn’t want to risk any harm whatsoever including in the bed room. Alfred said he was being silly that you wasn’t going anywhere and that as long as you had your safe word you was safe, he didn't even bother to ask where Alfred had learned about that he thought he was better off not knowing. It was also Alfred who had suggested the week away together noting you was both a bit stressed with the incident then the move. So that what was happening a trip to his small private island in the Maldives, Dick was coming to stay and fill in for him on patrol. He snapped the box shut leaving the cave, when he arrived to the bed room he stopped dead seeing you sitting up reading with a travel mug you turned to him smiling.

"Hey baby, how was it tonight?" he shrugged turning closing the door.

"Not much, stopped a kidnapping and an a few assaults small things really"

"Not to the victims they wont be. I heard the boys come up earlier you stayed down there a while." he smiled slipping off his tight tshirt strategically throwing it on the chair covering the small jewelry box as he dropped that as well.

"Yes working on something"You smiled curling your toes into the bed beneath you.

"Oh really a new gadget? Oh oh is it a lazer? Please tell me its a lazer I have always wanted to play with one like the ones in James bond!" He gave you a look

"No its not a lazer and if it was you definitely wouldn't get your hands on it" you pouted but not for long as your favorite part of the day began it was the best bit of living here full time getting your daily dose of Bruce's delicious body without fail, he smirked dropping his bottoms and pants in one swoop as he made his way across the room. You watched him quietly biting your lip as he snuck into the bed slowly crawling up beside you plucking your kindle from your hand snapping it shut dropping it on the side table then slid higher leaning over you taking your mug from you placing it beside the kindle. You sighed at him shivering a little as his cock brushed the top of your thigh wetting the shorts you wore to bed as it twitched to life against you.

"And just what do you think your doing Mr Wayne? you know we have a flight to catch in what two hours?" he hummed tugging on your arms leaning down to your neck whispering into your neck

"It's my Jet it wont leave without me" you sighed pulling his face up abruptly holding him firm before pressing your lips to his, he was a little shocked to say the least but soon gave into you as you plundered his mouth forcefully taking what you wanted from him twisting and toying with his tongue before making him shiver as you ran the tip of your tongue over the roof of his mouth then sucked harshly pulling on his tongue he moaned when you pulled back. Blinking a little confused as to where that aggression had come from but you felt just how much he had liked the change of pace as you gripped his now fully erect cock between your delicate hands tugging once twice and one final third time twisting as the went rubbing over his slit making him bite off a groan arching into your hand with eager hips.Perfect.

"Well I don't think it would be nice to keep the pilot waiting, so I'm off to have a shower and recheck my bag and you should to, I'd say sleep but you don't have time" you said he moaned trying to grab you as you slipped out of the bed licking your lips, oh yes this trip would be incredible. You see you had fully healed from the night you discovered Bruce's secret and had been forced to the hospital about your heart and although it wasn't anything to worry about yet. Bruce had been very delicate with you. Not that you haven't enjoyed the sex but it wasn't the same, so you was stuck not sure what to do,you had already asked him but he insisted you wait a few more weeks to be sure. You wanted to do something get him so riled up that he would forget everything that has happened and ravage you once and for all. You smiled to yourself you had gone to Alfred for suggestions Alfred about what you should do to help. Alfred being the good sport he was smirked telling you to leave it with him already having a plan in mind, the next day a note had been slipped under your morning coffee with a single web address. You laughed giddy when you looked and saw a plethora of adult toys all dedicated to one kink Femdom safe to say most of the money you saved since living at the manor had brought you a whole arsenal of toys that was already at the house waiting as Alfred had arranged for it to be shipped directly there. You stopped just before walking through the door to the bathroom turning back to Bruce as he laid sprawled out on his back hand creeping to his cock that tented the blankets

"Oh and Bruce? leave that alone its mine if you don't you'll be sorry" you smirked at the shocked look on his face having to enter the bathroom quickly before you lost your composure and started laughing at the confused man. He through his head back cock twitching, you were up to something and he didn't know what but what he did know is he couldn't fucking wait. Closing his eyes he willed his raging boner to relax a little but he could still feel the tingles left by your hands. Shit. He heaved a sigh once he heard the shower, quickly getting up and hiding the bracelet in his packed bag stuffing the small box in his side pocket before beginning to get ready, he didn't need sleep yet he could wait until the flight and would probably nap by the sea once at the island. He sighed when racing past you when you stepped out of the shower turning it cold to help settle his problem you smirked nodding at him a little.

Thirty seven hours later you found yourselves stepping off of the plane the first thing you noticed was it was hot....Fucking hot you was happy you only had a thin dress on and the second was the sight that greeted you took your breath away you stood looking at what had to be a photo because this could not be real Bruce came up behind you yawning and stretching as he had just woken up, he looked well rested for the first time in weeks. He walked behind you kissing the back of your neck hugging you close.

"You like it?

""It-Bruce this is incredible I've never seen anything like this not in real life" you was awe struck by the pure white sand and crystal clear water, in front of you was a small thatched building that looked like it was for maintenance, beyond that a lush patch of brightly colored plants you could hear parrots and various other wild life in the trees and peaking thought you could see the beach. A long pier extending out with a large house at the end that you'd seen on the brochures from here you could see the slide that wrapped around it from the roof into the sea. you smiled turning to him excitedly

"Oh my god a slide? does it have one of those nets? you know the one that hangs over the water that you can lay on?" you asked jumping up a little he laughed nodding.

"Yes and the slide was for the boys when they were younger but I'm sure you will make use of it, there is an infinity pool at the back to, Jason got freaked out by the fish when he was little so I had it put in for him." you giggled as you saw someone you didn't recognize pick up your bags piling them into a small jeep Bruce walked you over to it holding you around the waist.

"Jason really? was he frightened of them?"

"No I wouldn't say frightened, he just didn't like the idea of them touching him, he loved watching them hence the pool is glass he would dive holding the top with his goggles and snorkel I was even considering getting some coral around it to encourage more but the more fish would have drawn sharks and I decided against it not with the boys." you snapped your head to him as you sat side by side in the Jeep as it started moving down the dirt road towards the house.

"Sharks? do they come close?" he patted your thigh at the cute expression

"Don't worry most are babies...Tho there was that hammer head that swam straight into the glass pool that one time, and the reef shark of 08 he hung about for a few days swimming below the house I wouldn't let the boys out it was quiet big, turns out they were fucking feeding it! Well Dick was, wanted to tame it and brag to everyone that he had a pet shark." you laughed you could imagine them sneaking out throwing food at the dangerous creature.

"Was that when Jason asked for the pool by any chance?" you said slyly as the jeep rounded the corner pulling out of the trees to the beach parking by the huge pier. You glanced along the beach noticing a large sunken area with a curved stone wall with wooden bench wrapped around it and huge sunken firepit full of smooth glittering stones. You jumped out of the car following Bruce down the the pier both taking your suitcases and rolling them behind you as you walked hand in hand down the long wooden structure hearing the jeep drive off back towards the airfield.

"Never though about it but yes it was it must, have scared him. I only found out they was feeding the damn thing when I caught Dick trying to get in the water with it,the silly little sod was adamant that he had 'tamed the beast' I only just dragged him out of the water in time. I can tell you he didn't try that again after the hiding he got." you chuckled but felt sorry for the boy. You finally arrived at the sleek modern villa upon entering you sighed in relief as the aircon was in full swing cooling the house to a comfortable tempature, it was one story the whole back of the building was huge panes of glass giving an uninterrupted view of the sea beyond it was open planned with the master bedroom on the far left of the house and two rooms for the boys on the far right in the middle was an open plan light and airy kitchen with center island and dining table in front and large living room with sunken u shaped sofa facing a fireplace with tv above, out side you could see the pool and large hammock net beside it to the left was a set of stairs integrated into the side of the house you assumed it was for the slide. It was beautiful he directed you through to the bed room placing your bags down you gasped as the view was stunning you almost felt like you was just skimming the clear water.

"Bruce this is-its beautiful, I've never seen anything like this" he smiled approaching you slowly placing his hands on your shoulders pulling you back against him.

"Good I’m glad you like it, I'm going to have a quick shower and change I will be right back" you nodded turning giving him a deep kiss before letting him go. Once he left through the door you moved fast finding your order that Alfred said was in here and ripping it open finding your toys, you guessed that you had around ten minuets which was enough you raced to the bed with the box quickly unwrapping what you assumed was the comfort hand cuffs, basically normal click hand cuffs with a soft lining they had a quick release to you noted you gave them the once over the chain between them was think so hopefully they would contain him, not wasting time you quickly threaded them threw the bars of the head bored looping it around twice and stuffed it down beside the mattress out of sight then repeated with two separate cuffs on either side of the base board. You quickly made your way back to the box pulling out your other goodies quickly fiddling with them figuring out how each thing worked and moved crawling under the bed finding a plug socket and plugged in the rechargeable wand and plug vibrator you sighed standing back up doing another round of the room checking everything was hidden. Smiling you fist pumped the air and pulled out the final thing you had got the the cherry on the smutty cake as it were. It looked a little tight but you could make do quickly stuffing it back in the box and fished out the rest from your suitcase then kicked it across the room out of the way. You panicked slightly trying to remember everything you had seen in the videos. You had planned this for just over a week using the time he was away at night to watch ridiculous amounts of femdom porn wanting to get this spot on. You knew he would like this just from the way he got turned on when you became as he called it 'Mama bear' you took a deep breath you could do this. You'd pay for it later .but you could do this. You kicked off your shoes and dress lying on the bed in only your panties you had forsaken your bra on the flight you turned facing away from the bathroom door staring out to the sea, it calmed you hearing the waves in the distance and the soft laps of water on the columns holding the house up just below the floor you nearly drifted off to sleep. Suddenly the bathroom door opened and Bruce came waltzing in clad in only a towel."All ready and waiting for me love? I thought we could go relax in the Jacuzzi for a bit but if you insist, after all I do owe you for yesterday" he said quickly throwing the towel away and crawling on the bed you rolled over to meet him half way kissing him lightly at first before moving slowly sitting up deepening the kiss you moaned as he bit your lip sucking it then released opening your mouth you welcomed him letting him explore your mouth slowly before you latched on to his tongue sucking it quickly and biting it lightly rolling over to lounge across him he smirked cupping your ass as you moved straddling him you looked down noticing he was already half hard.smirking you shuffled up sitting on his cock trapping it between your covered pussy and his own abdomen a leaning over kissing him again slowly clasping his hands maneuvering them up past his head. Distracting him by running kisses across his jaw suckling and biting harshly making him moan the he returned the favor sucking a dark mark on your neck. Yes almost there. You guided his hands further across the pillows and grinded on him making sure to keep him occupied then CLICK! he flinched jerking his arms pulling his face away from you. You giggled at the shocked look on his face

"ERR Babe wh-what are you doing there hun?" he asked there was a tremor to his voice. you grinned at him leaning down to him again kissing his chest.

"I want to play Brucie baby~ You see you've been gentle and I just don't know what I have to do to get you to rough me up a bit. First I thought if I was a good girl you'd reward me, fuck me stupid again like you did before. I know you was worried that you'd hurt me again but sometimes a bit of pain is good. Soooo I thought that I'd show you." you winked at him crawling backwards down the length of his body leaving soft kisses. He stared mouth open speechless as you slid off of the bed, you could see it in the way his pupils were blown, eyes clouded with lust he was enjoying himself and the slight bobbing of his semi erect cock was a very good indicator. He shook his head laughing a little and smirked.

"Oh you think you can top me baby girl because you have a set of handcuffs? Fine I will play along give me your best shot"

"Oh baby, you are so going to regret that" you smiled bending down licking your lips as you quickly cuffed each of his ankles spreading him open you tutted and walked across the room to the box pulling out a two little elastic rings towards him,he visibly flinched and gulped a little as you stalked to the bed holding the toys.

"Hey wh-where did you get that? How do you even know what that is? my sweet lovely little girlfreind, you know I love you right babe?" you giggled sitting on the bed as he tested his cuffs trying to shift away from you as you ran the tip of a finger up and down his lower abdomen.

"Of course I know you love me I love you to and I'm pretty sure this is on your list isn't it? the big bad bat of Gotham who is always in control day and night wants to take the back seat once in a while? to be completely at my mercy for once?" he nodded a little swallowing dryly still trying to get his head around the fact that you, tiny innocent y/n had cuffed him to the bed and was stroking his stomach getting him ready for a fucking cock ring. You giggled placing your hand on the crown of his cock rubbing and teasing him with the pads of your fingers making his hiss arching leaning down licking at him then slowly dragged the tips of your nails up and over his whole length until finally he rose fully erect and ready, you made quick work of placing the cock ring over him rolling it down the pulled both balls through it gently moving him through the tight loop letting go he moaned as it started squeezing him tight then you moved quick placing the second one at his base trapping his balls between the two elastics you parted with a kiss and nip to them making him arch off the bed groaning loud panting heavy, he hissed as they constricted his heated flesh keeping him pointing directly up. You then tapped the head lightly sucking on it once then pulled away."Now I will be right back just going to freshen up." you said walking of to the side lifting your new outfit ignoring his protests listening as he tugged at the bonds swearing as he realized he might not be able to break away. He was fucked utterly fucked but oh boy was he going to enjoy it, this was his darkest deepest fantasy that no woman had ever even attempted, in his playboy years he had always been treated like a sugar daddy, they expected him to top each time ,they were desperate just wanting him to dominate them, control them and then fuck them silly. It was a secret desire that he was almost ashamed of, absolutely no one new not even Alfred who knew everything about him. He absolutely loved topping it was his thing but every now and then he wants to be topped, the idea of you using him, controlling him.

"UGH fuuuck" he cried out as the thought made his cock harden bouncing a little as he was held high moaning and twitching as he tried to focus on his breathing instead of the tight delicious throbbing of his cock. Meanwhile you entered the bathroom putting on your new outfit, well you use the term outfit loosely it was one of those cute goth girl type harnesses that looped in v's across your breasts wrapping up around your neck in a choker and matching thong you paired it with Bruce’s favorite stocking and garter set thick band of lace wrapped around your waist attached to matching lace trimmed stockings and killer heels- he liked you in heels- then ruffled your hair applying you expensive red long wear lipstick, this particular one needs a special lipstick remover and had also been a new purchase just for this. You grabbed the last item a fierce looking black riding crop. oh yes this was worth epilating for. You felt so ready for this your insides aching for him if everything went to plan you’d be thoroughly fucked out by the end of the day then took a deep breath pushing aside your own arousal. Not yet today was for Bruce. Hearing the rattle of the cuffs a and a deep frustrated moan. You opened the door strutting to wards the bed watching him whither trying to tug himself free, he hadn't noticed you yet you licked your lips in anticipation. Excellent. you quickly brought the crop down on the v above his angry looking cock making him hiss and stop mouth agape as he saw you.

"Fuck me" he said drinking in your form you smirked sitting on the bed running the tip of the crop up his neck pressing on his jaw to close it humming at him.

"Not yet baby we've only just started, oh honey that looks uncomfortable~" you said tapping his red swollen cock with the crop quickly he grunted, couldn't take his eyes off of you as you got up and walked around the bed sliding beneath it you came back up resting your head on your elbow on the bed level with his face

."I almost feel bad about what I'm going to do you you. But this is a lesson you need isn't it love?" you watched his eyes widen as you lifted your hand holding a Pink wand vibrator. His breath hitched yep he was definitely completely and utterly fucked with capital F. He moaned

"No nono Sweets come on! that's not fair!" You smirked at him as he growled tugging on the cuffs again.

"OH but it is Brucie it is fair, pay back is a bitch and so am I" You picked up the crop striking him across the stomach with it leaving red strips across him then once lightly on the fat head of his cock as you moved taking your place between his spread thighs. Stroking him lightly barely touching him swirling your fingers around him making him swear at your cool hands.

"Today my love you are not Bruce Wayne, you are not the bat or even the boss. No today you are a little subby, little Brucie baby and lastly but definitely not least you are my toy!" You smiled as he grunted loud trying to buck, tho you wasn't sure if it was away or towards your hand.

"Im counting on you using my safe word if things get to much for you ,you remember what it is?" You asked him still stroking him slowly pressing your fingers every so often as you twisted making sure to rub the sensitive underside of his head a little making him hiss and groan

"Brownies" you smiled leaning down ghosting your breath on him. Letting one hand slip to the apex of your own thighs shuddering as you made contact with your engorged clit rubbing lightly coaxing small gasps and moans.

"Good boy, such a good boy" before you licked at his slit he groaned thrusting up trying to penetrate your mouth. You pulled back scraping him with your teeth collecting some precum along the way making a point of sticking out your tongue to him showing him his own seed before swallowing it licking your lips tutting you moved your hand clenching your hand around him reprimanding him.

"OH baby you want my mouth? you'll have to behave then and I might let you have it" he swore when you placed the wand sneakily beneath both rings pressing it tightly against the flesh below his balls flicking it on.

"OH FUUUCK shitshit thats-Ahh!" he grunted torn between trying to press down and pull away as the vibrations traveled from his root to tip making the elastics tremble against one another teasing his trapped cock, you smiled wickedly before flicking it up not one but two levels enjoying the cry that ripped from deep in his chest, it was an unexpected pleasure watching as his whole upper body tensed curling his muscles bulging trying to free himself he panted a few deep breaths then held his breath grunting before panting quickly again whining trying to rut into it. Quickly you pulled it away before he could cum giggling as he through himself back on the bed panting already covered in sweat you didn’t give him long to recover before pressing it hard to the swollen balls peaking taught from between the rings. The reaction was immediate this time his whole body ceasing, locking and trying to squirm away all at once. Slowly you moved it up to his weeping head rolling it around in delicate circles he grunted throwing his head back into the pillows turning his head to his bicep biting down trying to stifle his moans but couldn't hold back for lone as you tortured him with slow deliberate strokes.

"OH FUCK PLEASE! Pleaseplease baby fuck yes I'm so close! NO! NONONO" Just as he started rocking moaning higher and more desperate you pulled away pouting at him you wriggled on your knees rubbing your thighs together watching him fall apart was the most arousing thing you’d ever seen, unable to take it anymore as you soaked your own thighs you spoke.

"You know your right its not fair" you quickly straddled him placing the wand beneath your swollen folds then pressed down rubbing on it. You moaned as Bruce thrashed beneath you trying to touch .So close yet so far. You as you rocked on the toy crying out as the vibrations made your swollen clit ache and swell with need but at the same soothed you as your pussy clenched leaking on the toy panting softly.

"OH! that's it fuck yesyesyes" you leaned forward hands on his chest looking straight in his eyes mouth open as you tensed quivering feeling his muscles tense the wand low enough on his abdomen to tease the muscles of his pelvis tensing forcing his cock to throb and move before he knew what was happening he was arching shouting his pleasure as he came for the first time bucking despite the cock ring still holding him at a full attention. You laughed at him as you carried on thrusting wildly on him leaning down more to kiss at his open mouth. He met you in a ferocious battle of tongues desperate for any contact he could get panting and shivering. You stopped yourself short gasping sliding off of him taking the toy with you. You would wait.

"Oh baby look at all this mess?" You said flicking off the wand you wouldn't need it now. He panted hissing through his teeth as you began to crawl over him sucking him sharply making him yelp out.

"FUUUCK NONONO BABY DONT IT'S TO MUCH-AHH UGH UGH NO PLEEEAASSEE!" You chuckled as he fought desperate to get away and stop you, ignoring him you pushed onto him swallowing him down until, your nose was flush against him moaning loud onto him he cried out higher then you had ever heard him then pulled back slowly bobbing onto him he panted cried and swore as you continued using your lips as you ran along his length popping off of him he went lax but only for a second choosing to torture his sensitive cock with your hand two fingers at first squeezing him keeping your pumping thumb on the vein underneath it he shook, thighs tensing and quivering his upper body tense a flush of deep red almost purple creeping down his body.

"BITCH! OH JESUS!Your a fucking bitch you OOOHHH NOO PLEASE! WAIT! Im gonna fuck-shit FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK! fuck you so hard you'll be bed bound for days!" You laughed

"Im counting on it! Aww baby is it sore? Goood I want it to HUUUURT!" Then fisted him with both hands pumping as fast as you could go your pussy clenched as you drove him beyond pain to the pleasure beyond it he cried throwing his head back cumming a second then third time in what seemed under a minute you stopped then puling away.

"Oh wow that was hot look at all this baby, Is it all for me? So good but whats this my love? Your still hard that must mean you want more musn’t it?" You said scooping up his cum before rubbing it over his torso he groaned pitifully at you shaking his head still trying to catch his breath you crawled up him quickly sliding your thong to the side impaling yourself on him squealing as his hard cock stretched you burning you from the inside out he tensed and shuddered beneath you looking up with tears in his eyes.

"FUUUUUUUUCK no babe I cant! NONONONONOOOO!" You just licked your lips bouncing on him rotating your hips grinding your clit on him then changed direction forcing him to hit that spot making your eyes roll back you placed your hands either side of his head grinding on him panting breathy moans in his ear.

"Fuck are you gonna cum again Brucie? Come on love do it for me" you moaned loud and clenched around him tight making him whimper unable to speak he just nodded

"Good, such a good boy for me now I want you to cum! To fill me like never before you can just imagine it cant you love fucking me full, so I drip with you for days oh YES! FUCK UGH BABY PLEASE AAHHH!" you tucked your head in the crook of his neck rocking desperately against him as the change in angle brushed both your g spot and cervix you moaned tensing closing your eyes as you tummy quivered and you felt the heat move lower finally reaching your pussy you grunted as you came around his cock twitching as your walls fought to milk him he opened his mouth in a silent scream cumming for the forth time jerking into you tight heat as you came undone over him. You panted laying on him catching your breath as you came down from your high, giggling rolling off of him as he chuckled lightly closing his eyes you thought that was enough for today he looked utterly exhausted you lay beside him kissing his heaving chest patting his stomach

"I love you Bruce" he leaned down kissing your head

"I love you to Sweets, can you uncuff me now think we both need to relax in the Jacuzzi with some wine now" you hummed in response moving to the bottom of the bed releasing his legs then using the quick release on the hand cuffs. With precise movements you was maneuvered far to quickly for your liking being thrown over his shoulder he growled ripping off the cock rings hissing.

"Wha? Bruce how are you?" You was interrupted with a harsh spank on your pussy whining you moved your hands trying to cover yourself as you was dumped in the sunken hot tub out on the deck, grabbed again from behind as you surfaced the shaking your hair out blindly grabbing for anything using your confusion he pulled harshly at the thong snapping it clean off throwing it on the deck. He held both arms behind you pressing you to kneel on one of the hot tub seats knees spread and bending you forward slightly having your ass hang just over the bottom of the seat ,gulping as a very pissed of Bruce towered over you from behind gripping your throat restricting your air flow holding you still leaning his chest into you.

"B-Brucie?" He dug his fingers in to your neck before growling into your ear"Shut the fuck up woman! You really thought I'd let you get away with that?" He moved shuffling his still hard cock to your sopping entrance that was still twitching tapping it on your clit, sliding up and down between your lips, your walls spasmed and quivered, he was definitely going to make you pay and you couldn't wait.

"OH GOd! plEASE FUCK MEE! please Bruce I want your cum! PLEASE fill me again I want it!"

"You think your getting this cock Up your greedy cunt after that? Oh baby no, I'm gonna fuck your ass good and proper, your going to feel me for days, your pussy might not be worthy of my cock right now but I can do this" you screeched as he started the jets realizing why he held you here as a powerful jet sent a constant stream of water up to your pussy massaging your poor clit you curled into yourself letting out a long drawn out groan pressing into him he chuckled as you cried out loud, it was incredible and painful all in one as the water massaged your swollen flesh you rocked and withered against it

"OH OH FUCK BRUCE PLEASE PLEASEPLEASE IM SORRY!" He smiled licking at your neck making sure to stand firm holding you still as you moaned and panted before he used on hand to line himself up with your tight pucker his blunt head pressing hard in warning your eyes widened tilting back mouth open in one continuous cry with out wasting time he lurched forward past the tight ring of muscle grunting as the tight ring nearly chocked his cock he rocked slowly feeding you inch after inch.

"Oh baby girl your so tight shit yes fuck! You want to be fucked full? Well baby girl there was no need for all of this You could have asked." You whimpered moaning as he drove in deeper filling you to the hilt you grunted in pain as he pressed his balls to your cheeks, as painful as it was the jets directed to your clit abusing it eased you overall experience you panted gasping and whining as he fucked you harshly not giving much care to you as he pulled and pushed his way up into you, and you love every second of it moaning loud as the water lapped at you you screamed trying to wriggle away from him as your body trembled your walls clenched so tight they almost cramped in on themselves as you was left empty as you came looking up at him tears rolling down your face as he carried on fucking into your sore ass, not letting you escape the jet below you moving down to spit into your open mouth. The filthy gesture made you clench again around nothing in the middle of your orgasm you whined frustrated and over sensitive panting harshly as he pulled out of you tipping you further forward bending you completely over the side you stared into the clear ocean below as he moved forward plowing into your swollen abused pussy

"AH SHIT BRUCE PLEASE I CANT" he growled at you

"You can and you fucking WILL! UGH! SHIT! yesyesyes take it babe ah ah ah!TAKE IT BABE COME ON YOU WANTED THIS NOW YOU'VE GOT IT" you shivered clenching your hands and curling your toes as he battered your cervix pressing down as he went to stroke your sensitive soft spot, still trembling you shouted out as your clit throbbed an your pussy hummed to life as he took you above and beyond anything you’d felt with him before, one hand was gripping your ass as he thrusted forward with no mercy legs shaking as the water jet used to torment you now pulsed over his balls as he pounded into you. You wailed as he moved his hand to your clit pinching and tugging on it forcing you to orgasm again this time his hips stuttered and with one last pound forward he lifted your knees off of the seat completely forcing you to straighten your legs holding his hands on the edge of the deck either side of you holding trapping you pushing stretching your cervix forcing the tip of his cock inside before he came you screeched loud as he did feeling his hot cum spurt into your fluttering womb he held you still as you panted in shock of what just happened still feeling him twitching inside of you.

"Thats it THATS IT!! FUCK FUCK GOOD GIRL! AH AH yesyesyes shit shit! You feel that? UGH! Thats what you get! My.Fat.Cock deep inside of you, marking you as mine! Because that what you are my little slut! Mine to fuck and fill as I see fit, you wanted to be full now you are and if you let so much as one drop escape I will drag you to the bed and start all over again and again until you learn to keep my cum inside of you where it belongs!" He ground himself against your stinging clit laughing as you whined

"Bruuuuce I'm sore" he kissed your back

"Good I wanted it to hurt" he threw your own words back at you nipping your ear load before pulling out you hissed when he twisted to sit in the water with you on his lap cradling you to his chest kissing you.

"I love you babe , that was the best sex we have had in a long time isn't it?" You nodded cupping his jaw kissing it.

"Yeah... sorry if I was to much I kind of got into it... more than I thought I would actually" its true you was surprised at how much it had turned you on to have him to the point of tears. He smiled rubbing your back his other hand moving to change the jets to a low hum massaging your tired muscles.

“Nonsense you were perfect, it was incredible more than i could have ever hoped for, but where did you get the stuff? And where the fuck did you learn about all this femdom stuff?" You blushed twiddling his light dusting of chest hair smileing coyly at him.

"Well Alfred slipped me a note with a web address on it and that was all she wrote." You kissed him as his face dropped

"WHAT? Alfred as in Alfred Alfred? The man who raised me Alfred? Our Alfred?" You giggled nodding he sighed

"Holy shit" you sat up tugging your new harness off wincing as you saw the red marks it left where your large breasts were pressing on it he looked down hissing on your behalf running a finger across it.

"And I watched a shit load of femdom porn when you was out patrolling, I planned this for over a week ... nearly two I just wanted us to go back to the way we used to have sex, wanted to prove to you that I'm fine now, you don't have to worry about hurting me, I promise I will stop you if its too much the only way I could think of was to top you, so you knew what it was like you know?" He nodded as you leaned against him resting your head on his chest.

"I definitely understand, I'm sorry I just got so caught up in wanting to make sure you was completely healed, I was considering asking superman to come and double check that your ribs were fine, that's when Alfred pulled me aside telling me I was being stupid and suggested this trip." You scoffed then froze "Wait he suggested this trip? He told me it was you? And he-THAT LITTLE SHIT! Bruce he has had us both over!" You growled then pouted

"Come again?" You snorted at him

"Not yet love still tender" he bellowed a laugh at that

"Any way what I mean is he suggested the trip gave me the website link and arranged for the stuff to be hear for our arrival.... he set us up, and to be honest I’m greatful but damn your butlers pretty cunning... I suppose its true the butler really did do it." Bruce belly laughed

"Hey I've got something for you" he said before standing taking you with him you giggled as he carried you to the bed room placing you on the bed softly leaving with a kiss kneeling routing around in his case pulling out his gift.

"Here I made this for you, I know I shouldn't worry but I do" you took the box tentatively opening it seeing a beautiful silver chainmail bracelet with small plate and strategically placed onyx. You gasped slowly pulling it out.

"Bruce? What I don’t know what to say its beautiful" he sat beside you placing it on your wrist smiling as it fit perfect, not that he doubted the fit he may have measured your wrist when you was sleeping.

"Its a heart monitor and sends the data to my phone computer and even the bat computer, so I wont worry as much, the hospital said to monitor it but going to the hospital for and ecg every three months wasn't good enough for me so I made this, I want you to wear it as much as possible, its water proof so you can swim and shower with it.Happy six month anniversary" You leant forward kissing him deeply and pulled away admiring your new bracelet.

"Thank you I feel bad I didn't get you anything" he bellowed a laugh

"Babe you gave me the best orgasm of my life and I got to fuck your ass that's plenty trust me, tho if your really that upset I wouldn't say no if you bent over again for me" you squeaked blushing slapping his chest

"Oh? Whats all this then? How can you go from being a hot sexy mistress to a innocent little baby doll in what ten minutes?"you pouted pushing on him whining embarrassed. Then you heard a small beep below the bed you froze. You had forgotten about that. Bruce looked at you curiously then went under the bed sighing as he came up holding the specially designed prostate massager you chuckled nervously as he cock an eyebrow at you.

"Were you gonna try and stick this up my ass?" You shrugged

"Hehe well I err funny thing-sort of? maybe.....The guys on the videos liked it..... So I kind of you know thought I'd try it." You explained rubbing the back of your neck as he just stared.

"Haha no. Absolutly not, you are not sticking anything up my ass babe." He said placeing it beside the bed. You pouted muttering under your breath

"Like you'll have a choice when I do." He snapped his gaze at you.

"What was that? You want it up yours? well why didn't you say babe" your eyes bugged out as he stepped towards you grinning mischievously, you screamed giggling getting off the bed running out into the deck as he chased you diving at you plunging you both into the pool. You giggled as he held you against him in the water holding your ass as you wrapped your legs around him kissing one another.

"I love you so much you know I'd do anything for you right?" he asked staring straight into your eyes you nodded

"I love you to Bruce honestly couldn't imagine ever being with out you,I truly believe your my soulmate" he smiled pressing his forehead to yours closing your eyes you stayed there with him just enjoying being held. Then Bruce had to ruin the sweet moment.

"Soo hammock sex yes or no?" You deadpanned pulling away

"Let me guess its on your list?" He shook his head

"Nope not that list... I have a different list for holidays" you groaned shaking your head at him swimming to the edge on the pool watching the colorful fish swim just beyond the glass.

"Tomorrow? Lets just relax for today" he swam up beside you crossing his arms on the rim of the glass.

"Fine by me" you both stayed there enjoying the peaceful surroundings. You was content thing were definitely back to normal. you snuck another kiss pulling yourself up to the glass beside him as he held you by the waist leaning on him looking at your new bracelet twinkly in the sun.

#bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #batmom imagines #batman x y/n #dc x reader #dc x you #dc x y/n

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is-it-art-tho · 4 years

Link

Summary: Tim Drake gives his all for the city he loves.

“Some great people have worn this uniform. It’s more than a name—it’s a legacy. If you’re going to do this, you’re going to have to work hard,” Bruce said, holding a new Robin uniform in his hands. “I’ll accept your all. Nothing less.”

Young Tim Drake nodded. “Yes, sir.”

The Batplane dipped and swerved towards skyscrapers as Tim, now several years older, fought to keep it above the Gotham skyline. Beside him, Bruce, his cowl torn to shreds, worked to keep the other set of controls in line. A damaged wing on the left side threatened to break free from the rest of the craft. Sparks flew up from the panel as the cockpit filled with smoke. Tim glanced at the countdown on the control panel: 8 minutes.

“What’s this?” Tim asked turning a slender weapon over in his hands.

“I call it a batarang,” Bruce explained. “Give it time. This will become one of your best friends.”

“Tim, bail out!” Bruce yelled over the blare of the alarms going off in the cockpit. “Now!”

Tim leapt from the seat and ran to the back of the plane. “There aren’t any parachutes!” he shouted.

Bruce cursed, made sure the rest of the sky was clear, then hurried back to join him. He instantly found a dark backpack. “There’s one right—”

Tim slammed the button to open the doors and shoved Bruce toward them. Bruce, dangling halfway out of the plane, grabbed Tim’s arm.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

“I don’t understand!” Tim shouted, “Why are you so mad at me? I was just trying to help!”

“You were reckless— you could’ve gotten yourself killed. Never disobey my orders in the field like that again.”

“I thought we were supposed to look out for each other.”

“No, I look out for you. I protect you. Not the other way around. If I ever catch you putting yourself in danger like that for me again, you’re done. Is that clear?”

“…Yes, sir.”

“Tim!” Bruce barked, his voice being dragged away by the wind. “What are you doing?!”

Tim’s hand went to his belt. “I’m sorry,” he said, then whipped out a batarang and stabbed Bruce’s hand, forcing him to release. Tim peered out of the plane and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the parachute open in the distance. A massive clang followed by the screech of metal signaled the loss of the left wing. The plane started to dive.

“Computer!” Tim yelled, leaping back into the pilot’s seat. “Emergency stabilizer! Left side!” A flimsier, secondary wing folded out of the plane, taking the other one’s place. Tim forced the aircraft back into the air.

A few moments later Bruce’s voice crackled over his earpiece, furious. “Tim! Get out of there now! That’s an order!”

“If I leave now it’ll never make it.”

“Tim--”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

Silence. Then, “This wasn’t the plan. It was supposed to be me.”

“I know. But there can always be another Robin. There can never be another Batman.” Tim glanced over his shoulder at the payload of explosives at the back of the plane. The timer on the cockpit was at 3 minutes. He took a steadying breath as he soared over the city, headed towards the bay. “Bruce?” he asked, his voice lighter as he changed the subject suddenly.

“Yes.”

“You remember the first time we went on patrol together? My first night in the uniform.”

No response.

“Bruce?”

“I do.”

Tim laughed half-heartedly. “How many times did you have to show me which side my grapple was on?”

“It was a rough start, but you caught on quickly.”

“I had a good teacher.”

Another pause as the plane rumbled out over the water. “Do you remember what you said to me that night? When we got back?” Met with silence again, Tim continued, “It was almost dawn. I had taken a pretty good shot to the face and you were patching me up. I was upset because I thought it meant I wasn’t good enough. But you said—”

“‘Bleeding isn’t a sign of weakness. It’s a sign of strength. It means you’re willing to take the hit when it counts,’” Bruce finished. “I remember.”

“Yeah.” Tim swallowed hard, his heart pounding. Tears spilled down his cheeks. “I’m trying to be strong now, but I’m getting kind of scared.” His voice cracked, betraying his practiced calm.

“It’s okay to be scared,” Bruce urged. “It’s okay. I’m here. Just breathe.”

Tim nodded, taking a breath. “Yeah. Okay.” One minute. Tears continued to fall as he stared out towards the horizon.

“Focus on my voice,” Bruce continued. “You’re doing great. You’re a hero, Tim.”

The boy laughed wryly. “I don’t feel like one.”

“No one ever does. But it’s true. This city owes you everything.”

Tim didn’t know what to say to that. He pivoted again: “Tell Alfred I said goodbye. And that I’m sorry about the stain on the curtains.”

“I will.”

Thirty seconds. “Dick, too,” he added suddenly. “Tell him I…” Tim’s voice caught. He tried to clear it.

“I will,” Bruce said gently, understanding.

Tim nodded. Fifteen seconds. It was almost time; he felt like he was watching himself from outside of his body. Everything around him had begun to take on a surreal, almost dreamlike quality. Suddenly something occurred to him. He spoke quickly, “This wasn’t your fault, Bruce.”

“What?”

“I chose this, okay? Promise me you won’t blame yourself.”

Back in the city, Bruce was perched on a rooftop, watching the plane through high powered binoculars.

“Promise me!” Tim’s voice was panicked, almost desperate.

Bruce took a trembling breath. “I—” The line went dead as the small plane exploded in a sudden, dazzling display of fire and smoke miles from the harbor. When the black cloud cleared, there was hardly a trace left. Bruce lowered the binoculars slowly and slumped back, numb, his eyes fixed on the water yet seeing nothing. For the first time since he could remember, his mind was entirely blank.

Suddenly, his earpiece crackled back to life. “Bruce? I saw the explosion from here— are you okay? Why isn’t anyone answering?!” It was Dick, frantic with worry.

“I’m here,” Bruce said.

“Oh thank God. Where’s Tim? He isn’t responding. Bruce?” A beat. Then slowly, his voice pitching and cracking awkwardly, “Tell me he didn’t do what I think he did. Tell me I’m wrong, Bruce. Please.”

Bruce couldn't find the words. He let the silence fill in the gaps. Dick cursed violently. "God damn it--!"

“Hello?” the young voice was weak, but clear, cutting Dick's tirade short. Bruce froze. “Are you two talking about me again?”

A broad smile cut across Bruce’s face as a relieved chuckle escaped his lips, turning quickly into a full-throated laugh. Through the earpiece he could hear Tim Drake laughing along with him, the sound mixing with the splash of waves. “Little help out here?” he asked.

"I'm on my way," Bruce said, standing. He fired off his grapple and swung away.

Down below, Gotham trudged on, never once acknowledging the disturbance on the water and completely oblivious to the immense debt they had almost owed to a sixteen year-old boy who had been willing to pay the ultimate price for them -- a city of people who didn’t even know his name.

#tim drake #robin #batman #bruce wayne #tim drake fanfic #tim drake fic #batman fanfiction #batman fic #whump #tim drake whump

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insanityclause · 4 years

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Guillermo Del Toro is no stranger to widespread acclaim, especially from his ride or die legion of fans. Pan’s Labyrinth, the Hellboy duology, the list of genre-bending, timeless masterworks goes on. Coming off his 2 Oscar wins for The Shape of Water in 2018, and moving into finally releasing his animated Pinocchio film from the pits of development hell along with an adaption of Nightmare Alley next year, this couldn’t be a more thriving time for the Mexican auteur. Though amongst all the praise and glory, something has still felt missing these last handful of years. Besides his Oscar-winning film, Del Toro’s works prior to the 2010s are what generally buzz conversations of his genius. Those aforementioned films did, after all, skyrocket his name to fame. His titles from the last decade, however, are just as crucial to the Del Toro canon and emphasize his greater influence as a filmmaker. One, in particular, has seemingly gotten by in its young life at the hands of few. But now that Crimson Peak has officially turned 5, it’s time to turn that few into many.

Del Toro’s trifecta of the 2010s (not counting his work on television) stand out vastly from one another. Pacific Rim, Crimson Peak, and The Shape of Water: all love letters penned from the ‘nichest’ corners of his mind. These 3 arguably boast more diversity in genre than Del Toro’s 5 films of the 2000s (3 comic-book adaptations and 2 Spanish-set fantasies). Not a criticism, as established, those films now flaunt an immovable place within the cultural zeitgeist. Though with a career notoriously marked by a slew of unrealized projects (more on this later), it’s not often recognized how the ideas that did make the cut still lead a crystal clear trajectory in Del Toro’s growth as a storyteller. In the eyes of many, Del Toro pulls ideas out of a hat and gambles on which one actually sees the light of day. Humorous sure, but this is far from the truth.

Each Del Toro project feels like a pivotal step for what would come later, take his work on Trollhunters paving the way for his upcoming first animated feature for instance. Despite this trajectory, Crimson Peak feels criminally unsung 5 years later. Pacific Rim continued its life with a sequel and more planned spin-offs. The Shape of Water literally set a new bar for the Academy. This leaves Crimson Peak feeling like the pushed aside middle child of this trio. This isn’t a call for a sequel, and ‘underrated’ gets tossed around very loosely in modern film discussion. But for cinema as quintessential as Crimson Peak, it just doesn’t feel like it gets enough recognition – especially when the current film industry is seeing less big-budget, R-rated projects heavily steeped in genre.

You can easily trace Crimson Peak‘s short-lived spotlight back to its marketing. The timely October release and scare-heavy trailers sold a classic ‘Haunted House’ horror, when in reality, Del Toro’s film is a Gothic Romance. Set in the early 1900s, an aspiring American writer, Edith Cushing (Mia Wasikowska), is swept away by a promising English baronet, Thomas Sharpe (Tom Hiddleston). They discover true love and marry, leading the young newlywed to her husband’s decaying mansion in the English hills. The age-old manor is slowly, but surely, sinking in red clay – the very source of Sharpe’s wealth. Here Edith is forced to live with her new sister-in-law, Lucille Sharpe (Jessica Chastain), a reserved yet commanding force who works to hide the true nature of the house and its endless secrets. Mystery lingers as untamed lust, envy and greed unfold between the mansion walls, not leaving enough room for the restless red-colored spirits who haunt them. When it snows on this cursed hill, the clay surfaces, making it seem as if the land bleeds. Given more than just red clay rises from beneath, a deeper meaning is given to the place locals call ‘Crimson Peak’.

Just like the clay at the center of its mystery, Crimson Peak is an amalgamation, but of genre. It would be novice to expect anything less from Del Toro. The Gothic elements call back to many classic tales, such as Alfred Hitchcock’s adaption of Rebecca and, of course, Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre. On the horror side, homage is paid to Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining and Jack Clayton’s The Innocents. It’s a devilish blend that only this filmmaker could pull off so beautifully. And oh is Crimson Peak so god damn gorgeous. To contrast common period pieces that go for muted or sepia-toned color palettes, Del Toro turns the saturation on high. The result is an eye-popping picture that heightens the core emotions at play: fear, pain, and more importantly, love. Simply mesmerizing, avid fans will be quick to recognize the same shades of golden yellows, sea greens, and ruby reds found in Del Toro’s other works. It feels right at home in his filmography visually, while packing its own unique punch.

Red, a color mainly associated with passion, here instead intricately represents endless bloodshed. A twist that would suggest Crimson Peak is just as equal a horror film as it is a love story. Regardless of what might have been initially marketed to audiences in 2015, this film is a Gothic Romance from start to finish. Del Toro himself made this distinction clear to the studio from the get-go and repeatedly draws the line whenever given the chance. Yet, much like the rest of his repertoire, Crimson Peak utilizes horror not as a means to an end, but as a means for introspection. Yes, there are classic horror conventions such as jump scares, but it couldn’t be more obvious that Crimson Peak isn’t trying to evoke the same kind of high and dry fear other films heavily rely on. Del Toro is actively trying to get under your skin to achieve a hell of a cathartic viewing experience.

The ghosts of our past and how we let them define us is a core theme in Crimson Peak. The film opens on a flashback in which Edith is visited by the charcoal black ghost of her recently deceased mother. The nature of this visit sets the groundwork for the rest of the narrative. Mother Ghost, dreadful in appearance, doesn’t necessarily come to haunt her child, but to warn her. “Beware of Crimson Peak,” she says. The way Edith takes in this otherworldly occurrence, and those that follow, sets her apart from everyone else in the film. Wherein others flee from or lock away the ghosts of their past, she learns how to wear them on her sleeves – reaching out to the dead multiple times in the story, each attempt more confident than the last. Not too dissimilar from what Del Toro was playing with before, Jaeger pilots confronting past trauma in their quest to defeat Kaiju. At the same time, the transformation that occurs in Crimson Peak when neglected demons consume you from the inside – humans becoming the true monsters of their supernatural tales – would only be amplified in Del Toro’s next film.

Every minute detail coincides with this strategized, therapeutic use of horror. And to the everyday moviegoer trained by common tropes, Crimson Peak is quite deceptive. Just like Mother Ghost at the beginning of the film, the red spirits never manifest with the intent to cause physical harm, but instead to give messages and guide. Red clay seeps down the walls and the mansion ‘breathes’ as the country winds burst in. The house feels alive in the most cinematic sense possible, but the case as to it being ‘horrifying’ is not so black and white. Expertly designed to every inch, there is plenty of beauty to be found in the manor. Much of it has just been corrupted by a debauched affair – keeping this story rooted as a Gothic Romance. Subversion has always been the name of Del Toro’s game, and it’s within Crimson Peak that he uses it to mix genre so well while still staying true to his vision.

Though Crimson Peak saw Del Toro take subversion to a new level, notably with his main character. This film is a key chapter in his overarching legacy; not the first of his works to be lead by a defiant woman, but the first to have the female hero entangled in an unabashed love story. Effortlessly played by the brilliant Mia Wasikowska, the not so damsel in distress at the center of Crimson Peak is one of the most significant characters of Del Toro’s career. In discussing Gothic Romance with The Mary Sue in 2015, Del Toro explains: “This is quintessentially a female genre, that was written with characters that were very complex, very strong. I wanted to make a movie in which to some degree I recuperated and, maybe if possible, enhanced all that.” And enhanced he did for every central male character acts in more distress than Edith ever does, even when she is literally at the edge of death. A more than welcome change of pace that makes for a more resonating film.

Edith’s willingness to tackle the unknown is captivating and her vigor inspiring. But she isn’t absolved of frailty. For someone who comes to terms with facing the dead, her sheer vulnerability to heartbreak and suffering brings great humanity to the role. Hardly recognized, but Edith is one of Del Toro’s most self-reflective protagonists. A marginalized writer, inspired by the great Mary Shelley no less, in the midst of drafting her magnum opus, she immediately faces backlash from her novel’s inclusion of the paranormal. “It’s not [a ghost story]. It’s more a story with a ghost in it. The ghost is just a metaphor… for the past,” she says – giving Crimson Peak a rare Del Toro tongue-in-cheek quality that he utilizes until the credits roll. Meta enough given that the crimson ghosts Edith later encounters are, in fact, echoes of the past, but when looking back on the public’s initial perception of the film, it creates a charming, albeit ironic, wit only found here.

Additionally, when tracing back to Crimson Peak‘s pre-production days, you’ll find something even more profound. Penned by Del Toro and an old collaborator, screenwriter Matthew Robbins; this was the first script completed after the release of Pan’s Labyrinth in 2006. The two first worked together an entire decade earlier on Mimic, which has now gone down as the only film Del Toro has truly lost to studio interference. Del Toro was supposed to direct Crimson Peak in the late 2000s, but along came Hellboy II and his involvement in launching The Hobbit (another R.I.P). Through this hectic time, Del Toro would reunite with Robbins in writing 2010’s Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark, directed by Troy Nixey. However, the two also spent time together writing something else: an adaptation of H.P. Lovecraft’s At the Mountains of Madness.

For those unfamiliar, At the Mountains of Madness is by far one of, if not, the most tragic of this filmmaker’s unrealized projects. After spending years trying to get this dream off the ground, Del Toro had the following to say to Empire in 2010: “It doesn’t look like I can do it. It’s very difficult for the studios to take the step of doing a period-set, R-rated, tentpole movie with a tough ending and no love story.” The payoff of Crimson Peak being a period-set, R-rated, tentpole film only 5 years after that statement couldn’t be sweeter. In the film, Edith is told to insert a love story for the better of her novel. Del Toro is obviously commenting on expectations tied to gender here, but you can’t help but wonder if he’s also referring to one of the biggest thorns in his own writing career – one that also ties back to writing partner Matthew Robbins.

When faced with the question, Del Toro has consistently said that all of his films carry an inherent Mexican touch just from the utter fact that they come from him, and Crimson Peak is no different. Whether if deriving from his personal experiences with tackling genre, both on and off paper, or from actual events tied to his life – Del Toro reimagines two separate ghostly encounters experienced by him and his mother through Edith – this film beams with the very essence of Del Toro’s soul. Perhaps most personified when the marginalized writer gets bloody and fights back with nothing but her pen, a visual that cements this as an important stepping stone in his career. It’s a fascinating through-line, connecting to very different segments of his canon while still defining a clear path. The mending of our wounds and subversion of gender roles is continued from Pacific Rim, while setting a bold new course for delving into unfiltered, mature romance in The Shape of Water.

This is only a fraction of what makes Crimson Peak quintessential Guillermo Del Toro. Gothic Romance has long been part of this auteur’s framework, and you would be remiss not to indulge in all of its glorious melodrama. Even if it isn’t your cup of tea, Del Toro will make it so. Reaching its 5-year anniversary, the film hits stronger than before. The intricate motifs, compelling use of practical effects (complete with the involvement of Del Toro veteran Doug Jones), and cathartic use of horror make for something that has yet to be replicated by a major studio. Its lacking box office performance suggests that maybe the world merely wasn’t ready for this masterwork? But just like its characters, we hold the power to define what comes next. Del Toro himself has previously ranked Crimson Peak as one of the 3 best films he’s ever made, and straight-up called it the most beautiful. Take his word and dive in no strings attached, because who knows when we’ll get another large scale, unapologetic Gothic Romance with this much grandeur.

#Crimson Peak #guillermo del toro #Tom Hiddleston #Mia Wasikowska #Jessica Chastain #Charlie Hunnam #Jim Beaver #Doug Jones

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avengersassemble-fics · 4 years

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You Again

previous part

masterlist

word count 3k

an: lmao LISTEN do i know its been two years since this was updated?? yes BUT ya know the people ask and the people shall receive lol feel free to catch up if ya want. also!! if you're invested in this pls bare with me on the links, my blog was changed in 2019, but I fixed the master list links so use that or search on the blog! be careful.. things aren’t always what they appear ;)

We’ve been together long enough for me to figure it out

The sentence flowed out of her red stained lips easily which threw everyone for a loop, surprised glances were tossed around the group. Barry’s mouth formed an O shape and Diana’s brows raised as she glanced between you and Bruce, whose angry eyes were locked on the smirking Selina Kyle. Bruce’s hand locked onto her arm and started pulling her away, leaving his team behind and Diana cleared her throat.

“Right then, let’s. . Get back.”

Her sympathetic eyes locked onto your face, which had a blank expression and led everyone back to the plane. It was strangely quiet, except for Barry who spoke quickly to Clark about something, “And I told him, all I did was push people over and run away, but he didn’t believe me! So..”

With Alfred’s help the plane almost completely piloted itself, Diana didn’t have to do much for it to return to the safe house. As it neared, she flipped a few switches to conceal the aircraft, and landed the plane just outside the familiar abandoned building. The engines slowed to a hummed noise, and everyone got up from their seats - everyone except for you. Barry passed you first but paused, which made Diana press her elbow into his back to make him move along. Clark stopped beside you, and placed a hand on your shoulder carefully, which caused you to look up from your pensive state, a small hmm leaving your lips.

“You wanna come inside?” He asked. You looked from his stare to your hands, and sighed.

“Don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

Clark smiled sadly at you, “Not too much of a choice.”

You laughed at his honesty. It wasn’t actual laughter, but he recognized the sarcasm laced in it. The half smile, the way you shook your head, and you finally stood. He let you walk off first and into the light drizzle of rain. Each step the pair took further from the ship, the ground beneath it began to descend. You didn’t even need to look behind you, Bruce was ever the brilliant man for that detail too.

Tonight you were learning quite a bit from him. Just like before.

When Clark and you joined the rest of the group, the chatter quieted. Barry was attempting to locate food in the kitchen, and Diana stood straighter from leaning against the wall near it. She smiled sheepishly at you, and Clark left from your side. You looked at the computer in the room, and was the one to ask the dreaded question.

“When is he going to be here?”

Diana glanced at Clark for a moment, who only shrugged his shoulders, “We’re. . . Not sure.”

You nodded, and found yourself drawn to the couch, and planted yourself there on one side. Tonight made everything much more clear for you about the breakup, about those last few months of your relationship with Bruce. It wasn’t the Batman revelation that made the split happen, no it was something much worse. Something that happened just a couple months after that.

Work had gotten busier for you. That wasn’t to say you weren’t successful during your relationship with Bruce, he didn’t play into that. You were successful before you met Bruce, but somehow in those last few weeks things had exploded for your business. You found yourself swamped in work but it was good, it was so good for you and your career. But with it, and with Bruce’s new found vigilantism, you began to see less and less of one another.

He stopped sending flowers, he stopped sending those cute emails like he would at random times in the day, you heard from him less and less. But it wasn’t all his fault, it fell on you as well. Some dinners were cancelled, calls were missed, and texts unsent. It wasn’t on purpose, it just happened. But you didn’t want it to. You never wanted it to.

One night, you remembered the rain and how hard it fell that night, you drove out to see him, in that house by the lake you often wanted to call home. You did, kind of, you stayed there for most nights during the week, but not so much anymore. It was hard to see past the sheet of rain as you pulled into the long waved driveway. But you did it. You parked behind his car and switched the engine off, and squinted into the glass windows. All the lights were on of course, but there was no sign of him.

You had to fling the door open and grab your purse and rush inside. You fumbled with your key and slid it into the lock and let yourself in, but it didn’t matter, you were completely drenched. As you shut the door behind you and wiped some of the water from your face, you heard the tap of feet come down the hallway. But it wasn’t Bruce’s, Alfred came around the corner, and looked shocked to see you.

“Hey Al,” you greeted, and smiled at him.

“I keep telling him to pull the car in if he’s expecting you,” he casually said. You set your purse down and removed your wet jacket, and Alfred was quick to grab it from you.

“Oh he wasn’t expecting me I just thought I’d surprise him,” you said, “is he..?”

“I’m afraid he is,” Alfred replied, already knowing the question. You nodded and started towards the bedroom you shared with Bruce. You didn’t know what you were going to find out that night.

You were pulled from your thoughts when the door opened, everyone looked to it and weren’t surprised to see Bruce enter the room. He looked nervous, everyone could see it, and you just kept your arms rested on your legs, and stared at him.

Bruce let the door close behind him as he took a couple steps into the room. He looked between Clark, Diana, and you. Barry was eating something behind the group in the kitchen, and wasn’t paying too much attention. Clark and Diana stood behind the couch, arms crossed in front of them, but Diana was the first to break the silence.

“Do you care to tell us what’s going on, Bruce?” she asked.

Bruce glanced your way again, but you had averted your gaze to the wall, “I’ve been in contact with Selina about what’s going on, after the Arkham break out,” he stated very carefully.

“Only after?” Clark asked. Bruce narrowed his eyes at him, but you sat there and your stomach turned.

“For this matter, yes,” he said honestly. But Clark knew this wasn’t the answer you had hoped for. He looked at your shoulders tense, as did Bruce. You just continued to rub your hands together.

“Well, what does she know?” Diana pressed.

“The mayor’s office has covered up the fact that all of Arkham’s inmates were broken out,” he said, “not escaped. Someone initiated it. She doesn’t know who this guy is, but he’s planning some kind of siege on the city,” he paused, “he’s only starting with Gotham. Metropolis, Central City, Star City, they’re all going to be targeted.”

Silence filled the room. Diana looked down at her feet and Clark up to the ceiling for a moment. Barry was fully paying attention at this point, and shifted his weight from one leg to another, “Shouldn’t we be getting more guys in on this then? Anyone?”

“I know a lead in Star City,” Bruce said, “but getting him in may be difficult.”

“It’s a start,” Clark said. There was a nodded agreement amongst them, and Diana looked to you once more. She motioned for Clark and Barry to follow her out of the room. Clark followed, pushing Barry along in front of him, who exclaimed his confusion.

That left Bruce and you alone in the open. He had his hands twisted in his jacket pockets and looked at his feet. You finally broke your stare from the wall and looked at him. You both didn’t say anything, and you could feel the sting in your eyes. It was funny, you had told yourself just 6 months ago you wouldn’t cry over Bruce Wayne ever again. Yet here you were.

“What did she mean by it,” you asked in almost a whisper. But he heard you. He just didn’t know how to reply. His silence though bothered you.

“What did she mean by it, Bruce,” you said a little stronger now. That made him finally look up and meet your gaze.

“We’ve been. . . Intimate a few times,” he said, “nothing more than that.”

You nodded, a hurt smirk on your face, “For how long.”

Bruce took a step forward, “(Y/N)-”

“Dont fucking gaslight me,” you said, standing from the couch and pointed at him, “tell me the truth. For how long.”

“Fine! You really wanna know?” He yelled, and put his hands on hips.

“Yes! I want to fucking know!”

“Over a year! There! Are you fucking happy?”

You blinked at him as your jaw dropped a little. Over a year. You broke up only 13 months ago. That could only mean. . . You couldn’t even finish the thought, but his face gave you the answer you never wanted to hear.

“Is that why you pushed me away,” you whispered, “because-”

“Yes,” he breathed, “I. . . Couldn’t bear the thought that I had done it. And I couldn’t admit it to you.”

A single tear fell down your cheek. You shook your head as you focused on a spot on the floor, “Did you. . In the house did you-”

“Yes,” he mumbled, “a couple of times, yes.”

“A couple,” you stopped yourself, “in the bed that. . . that we would-”

“Yes,” he finished for you. Silence fell over you both as you two began to process what he was sharing, every gruesome detail. Tears were on the brim of your eyes, and Bruce looked on sadly. He tried to take a step closer to you, and you moved away to the end of the couch.

“What do you think-”

“I’m sorry,” he pleaded, “I’m so sorry. I loved you, I still love you-”

“No,” you cut him off this time, “you don’t do that to someone you love.”

“Please just let me explain-”

“No,” you cut him off again, and took another step back, “no you don’t get to explain anything to me.”

Bruce stopped in his tracks, and watched you glance over him one time, and then you turned away from him. And in that moment, he felt like he lost you all over again. He watched you walk away, just like he did over a year ago. And it still broke his heart.

You made it to your room and shut the door very softly. You had managed to hold the tears in but couldn’t any longer. They slid down your cheeks and neck and you stared at the bed before you. The thought of last night came into your mind and something in you snapped. You practically tore the clothing off your body and threw it into a corner of the room, it would go forgotten for awhile. You took your time picking out shorts and a basic tee to throw on when you looked over at the bed. Your skin burned just looking at the sheets and covers on it.

Frantically, you tore every piece of bedding off of it and threw it in the same pile as the clothes. Tears clouded your vision as you worked on peeling each dirty memory from the bed, until it was bare. And you were bare. A quiet sob left your body and you covered your mouth with your hand, and eased yourself onto the ground. You pulled your legs to your chest and leaned against the bed. Tears just slid down your cheeks, and you sat there. Alone. Quiet.

There was a soft knock at the door, but you didn’t bother to acknowledge it. However, that didn’t stop the person from pushing your door open. From the corner of your eye, you saw the tall figure, who tried to look for some kind of sign they could come in. The best you could offer was a glance, and your face scrunching up in another cry. A plea.

Clark entered your room and shut the door behind him. He hurried over to you and sat beside you and that’s when you started to cry once more. His right arm wrapped around your shoulder and you leaned into his side. Your body shook from the cries, and he wrapped his left arm around you to soften the gasps. His chin rested above your head as you burrowed yourself more and more into him.

He sat there with you until you started to calm down. Until the gasps stopped, until your sniffles disappeared, and until you released your legs from your grasp. He tilted his head to get a look at you, and all he could see were those (e/c/l) pensive eyes staring at the wall.

“Stay here,” we whispered. You nodded in response and he carefully detached himself from you. As he stood, you watched as he entered your bathroom and entered the closet in there. He was gone for just a few moments before he reappeared with a fresh set of sheets, and new comforter. He didn’t say anything as he worked around you to fit the sheets on, dress the pillows in new covers, and smooth the comforter over the bed. You didn’t make eye contact with him again until he kneeled before you, and rested his arms on his legs.

“Come on,” he whispered, and held a hand out for you. You looked from his face to his hand, and hesitated only for a moment to take it. Clark pulled you up from the floor, and with his strong arms he helped you climb into bed, and under the covers.

He offered a small smile, and you still gripped his hand. He turned as if to leave, but the fact you didn’t let go of his hand pulled his attention back to you.

“Can you stay for a bit longer, Kent?” You whispered it to him, but he heard you.

He would always hear you.

He nodded and crawled over you so he sat beside you. You sat there quietly for a few moments before you spoke again.

“Did you hear?”

You played with the blanket covering you, and Clark sighed, “I did. . . I’m sorry.”

You shrugged, “I know you can’t help it,” you smiled sadly to yourself, “I just,” you laughed a bit, but this time he could hear that hurt, “Bruce he was the first one that I let into my life, after..”

You trailed off, and Clark frowned, but you didn’t look at him. You just kept playing with the fabric of the blanket.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

You glanced over your shoulder a bit, and then focused back on the blanket you played with. You moved a bit, shimmied down the bed and Clark couldn’t help but smile at your movements. You proceeded to lay your head in his lap, and he carefully moved his arm so it rested behind your back. You were positioned so that you stared ahead at the door, and Clark instinctively started to gently run his fingers over your hair.

He remembered vividly the last time he did this with you. Before you went off for college, before he disappeared from your life. He sat in this same position, and you rested your head in his lap and fell asleep. It would be the last time you saw him for years. But not the last time he would see you.

“Clark,” you suddenly called out.

“Yes?” he asked. You twisted a bit so your head laid straight up in his lap and you could meet his gaze.

You bit your lip a bit as you wondered about your question, “After you left. . . Did you ever come back?”

There was something in your still wet eyes, and they looked at him in a way he hadn’t seen himself in years. You were looking for the truth, it was something you needed to know. Clark cleared his throat and shifted a bit back towards the headboard.

“I did,” he admitted, “a couple of times, but. . . You were gone by then. And your mom she wouldn’t-”

“She never told me,” you said quietly.

Clark nodded, “I saw you once,” he paused and you looked at him in shock, “in Metropolis. Sitting outside a restaurant.”

That was enough to get you back sitting up, and facing him completely now, “You saw me?”

He nodded, “You were reading Jane Eyre, your favorite, the same copy your father gave you. You had this blue dress on and I saw you from the other side of the street, couldn’t miss you,” he smiled a bit to himself, and you looked at him with sad eyes, “I was going to go over, but then I saw Bruce join you, and you two kissed and I thought. . . You’d be better off not knowing I was there.”

You smiled sadly at him and then suddenly you had moved to lay down. Clark’s arm wrapped down your back as you cushioned yourself into his side. You didn’t say anything and neither did he. Why you felt the need to hug onto his side was beyond him, but Clark didn’t budge the rest of that night. You needed someone there with you, and if you needed it to be him then he would be there.

----------

this is the old tag list y’all I cannot believe im doing this to you, if you wanna be removed just let me know im cackling im so sorry

@panic-angel3314 @dutifullyfuriousnerd @mrsemmaevanswriting @fourtristattoos @offlikeadirty-shirt@barrel-racing-lover @sexyvixen7 @bless-my-demons @sarcastic-ohohoh @whovianayesha@neohhetric @my-dccomic-dreams @hellomistressj @avengersgirllorianna @spunky-89@dammitkyloben @topthis808 @theboldandthebootyful @andtheytoldustotellyouhello @amandakwoodstock @brooke-supernatural16 @kissingwintergoodbye @missthang2734 @random-fandom-lady @supernaturaldean67 @crimesolversherlock @lunaticgurly @sweetiele-ash

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne fic #clark kent #clark kent x reader #clark kent fic #Bruce Wayne x you #Clark Kent x you #batman x reader #batman fic #superman x reader #superman fic #batman v superman fic #batman #superman

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weaselbeaselpants · 4 years

Text

Hazbin/Helluva are hated for the exact same reason they’re loved:

Before I begin I need to repeat something and that’s that you please, kindly, DO NOT BOTHER ANYONE WORKING ON THE SHOW WITH THIS POST. I don’t care if you’re a fan looking for their opinion or a “critic” looking for their response. THESE PEOPLE ARE WORKING HARD, THIS IS NOT A CALL OUT POST IT’S JUST FAN DRIVEL LEAVE PEOPLE ALONE OKAY?!?!?

okey

Here are the facts of the matter:

Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss are independently produced cartoons made by a bunch of people juuuuust breaking in on the animation market, and/or internet famous artists having fun with the world they’re producing. The creator, like her style or not, is inspired and VERY passionate about what she likes and what she wants. Everyone working on the show is really into it and their work. It’s such a self-made fandom it was technically a fandom first and a product second. Fans feel like they (and technically do) have a say in how the show should be run and what the characters should be.

It is popular enough to attract attention online but not overblown by the mainstream media.

On the positive side all those things mean:

It’s crew is tight-nit and very passionate + stick up for each other and their projects. It’s basically a giant colab. Whether they were preexisting fans/friends of Viv, the people working on it got to work on something they liked and with people they liked.

The animation community is super pumped and excited for them be they fans of the animators or just people who like cartoons and monsters and stuff. They’re positively skeptical and in on the hype cause they want to see more fluid adult animation and more indie projects take off (also 2D)!

It’s fandom LOVES the characters, concept, and story. They are more invested in what the characters could be rather than what they actually are, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing; to love something based on the concepts presented and use it to make AUs, hypotheticals and what not. Cringe all you want at the Onceler fandom (you can) but it is impressive to make all that material from so little!

They’re both edgy and insensitive based on their subject matter alone. And yet, the creators and fans DO intend for the show to be a net-positive: there IS supposed to a be representational aspect to it’s design and it’s audience. Brandon Rogers, the modern John Waters, is a pure shock-humor artist; an example of the sincere but not TOO serious risque nature these shows should have, and BOTH attract a pretty happy and excitable LGBTQ fanbase who hate bigotry.

The creators directly talking with fans means there’s again a sense of togetherness to the whole production. That the creators tell people to ship what they want BUT NOT TO BULLY is really cool + important.

As an aside, they can only say so much and Viv is at this point not 100% of Hazbin or Helluva’s creation. It’s other people speaking for or with it now. Neither pilot is a singular idea and musing of one person anymore, they are stand alone products and they are not immune from critique or favoritism.

Buuuuuuut, there’s a flipside to these things as well:

Beyond NDAs (as an aside, a lot of productions have these I don’t think it’s amoral that Viv had this) the crew is tight. When they hear how a site that they’ve heard through the grabevine hosted the guy who sent Viv rape porn*, even if the critique is from a user who hates that guy, THEY AREN’T GONNA HEAR THEM OUT. And they shouldn’t. They are tired and don’t want to be involved, at best (or want to move on from past drama) and biased towards Viv, at worst. They stick out for each other in the business and also who are you gonna stan if you were in their shoes? A person you don’t know on a forum you’ve seen post creepy shit OR your friend who paid you, promos you, talks to you and you like to work with?

Ask yourself honestly what you would do if someone said:

“hey I’m from [4chan/Kiwi, ED, Tapatalk, Reddit, ect]. I’m sorry for what happened but just so you know-”

I so get the crew just straight up blocking on sight. I don’t CONDONE it, but in a postGamerGate world I understand it.

AND when it comes to accusations made against the VAs, a producer, or one of the artists, and ESPECIALLY the creator - people are gonna just handwave it away convinced, it’s just whining or has alterier motives + again, friends stick together and choose sides...like Brock Baker’s :B

It’s popular so it’s gonna get love and hate. I know critics are not gonna like to hear the later, but it is true. It feels cathartic to dunk on a property when fans are crazy and you feel it’s overrated/bad. People feel good dunking on this mishandled, problematic clusterfugg cause they know not as many people are watching and unironically liking, say, Alfred Alfer ----- (please don’t look that or Emily Youcis up. Here’s the tvtropes page. Do not look beyond this point PLEASE)

Likewise, the clout surrounding the show is biased and detracted form being too mean as well. Everyone can tell there’s a kind of toxic mess under the covers but no one wants to deep dive or prod the details of something people are working on and liking so much, especially not when the loudest detractors are asshats like P.K. Russel.

A lot of merch has been sold and produced WELL BEFORE the rest of the shows or the finalized series/designs have been laid out. If nothing comes of either show it will be bad having all this merch hyping something that doesn’t exist. If it does but is so radically different than the vision in Viv’s and fan’s heads (these are both PILOTS, I’ll remind you) it’s gonna disappoint. I just know it.

People were writing Hazbin fanfics and AUs before the pilot was dropped and have made sequels to both before we have even a clear picture of what the ending is gonna be. People are in love and writing for a franchise they don’t know. They know the idea of it and the version of it in their head, but they don’t really know it.

The fandom can not take criticism. This is bad. Everyone is a critic and inside every critic is a nerdooo ~ ((critics do have fandoms and everyone will like something problematic for reasons)) Fans want to criticize but they’re scared of being ostracized from the fandom and kicked off of forums/servers, which has happened to two underage fans already. **

The fandom feels entitled to their ideas and to the creators’ attention. If it were any other fandom it is sooper cool that creators allow people to ship as they please, but not one that’s currently still in development and whose finalized characters haven’t been figured out. The babies have been sent into the battle field at only a few months old alongside veteran ship/canon/entitled cartoon fandoms like Steven Universe and Rick and Morty. It’s like the scene from mother! where the crowd dismembers and eats the baby.

Viv and has a serious influence on these people so even when her and a bunch of fans/artists are just gabbing about stupid memes on twitter, this invites a slew of onlookers to attack these people***. Despite the influence you can have or say to stop this behavior, it’s waaaay harder to put a stop to it than just saying “hey guys be nice” (Anyone else remember the inner-drama of Brony fandom? Like chuds would even take the word of the AskMolestiaMod to heart when their one goal was to take down the dreaded Essjaydoublewes that threatened their rape jokes).

Fans also have no boundaries. Sea also; Lincar Rox.

Being a netpositive doesn’t mean everything you say or do is devoid of critique. If you make vulgar/shocking adult content it will have fans and it will have detractors regardless of the positive intent. As I’ve said earlier, the problem with Viv’s works isn’t really the content but the context and the presentation. You can say Angel Dust is an inspiring character all you want. To some people that’s absolutely true but that does NOT absolve the fact that the it’s a cis woman writing and glamorizing an abused crossdressing gay man. People are gonna be offended and the creator needs tougher skin about this be it satire, parody, or drama.

*back when they were fixated on Zoophobia, there was a guy on Bad Webcomics Wiki/Tapatalk for the comic who posted art of Viv’s decapitated head getting raped by Angel Dust as a “joke”. Oh! and he also took the complaints the wiki had and made Viv and ED page. The rest of the forum was not happy but yeah that happened. The forum itself is the same as any reddit thread and NOT a hate site, but yeah um Viv has every right to quit after that, sorry.

The evidence is linked here in this google doc, which is why I linked it. (tbh I sympathize with the author but I don’t think it’s their place to say when Viv should have let the world known about the harassment porn )

**the underage fans who were bullied/blocked/demonized by creators are frootrollup1, for doing redesigned fan art, and StarVader from the Tapatalk/BWW forums, who was targeted and blamed by fans for Lincar’s shit. I’m not linking them for fear of their safety.

***The meme and twitter thread that went off the rails is one you’ll have to scroll down a bit through @gamergirluprising‘s post to see.

Okay that’s all.

---

#hazbin hotel #vivziepop discourse #vivziepop critique #vivziepop drama #Helluva Boss #helluva boss critical #hazbin hotel critical #bad webcomics wiki #tapatalk #Lincar Rox #Brock Baker #hazbin critical #critical hazbin hotel

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awhitehead17 · 5 years

Text

30 Days of Domestic Fluff: Day Thirty - I Love You’s

Summary: The first time Tim and Kon both say I love you, the other happens to be unconscious. The second time they say it to one another, they’re surprised to find it’s a mutual feeling

Enjoy! :D

Tim wasn’t breathing. He wasn’t fucking breathing and it felt like Kon couldn’t breathe.

The Titans we’re in the midst of a battle against an extraterrestrial force, they’ve all been at it for a couple hours now but they were slowly gaining the upper hand.

As Kon was fighting off three forces who had teamed up against him, from the corner of his eye he sees a figure take a plunge into the river nearby. The flash of red and the long stick gives Kon enough time to work out it was Tim just before he dives into the water with a large splash.

At first Kon wasn’t concerned, the water would have somewhat softened Tim’s fall and he knew his best friend was a brilliant swimmer, so he wasn’t too worried. His attention goes back to the things he was fighting, he punches one and knocks it to the ground where it doesn’t get back up and kicks the second one away to the other side of the city with his super strength

The concern comes back when he glances at the river and doesn’t find Tim at all. His best friend wasn’t on the water surface swimming back to shore nor was he already at the shore anywhere. Kon’s stomach drops at what that could mean. In record time he knocks the alien in front of him out before rushing over the water and without thinking dives into it.

He finds Tim’s unmoving body slowly sinking downwards and rushes to grab it. Once he’s got his best friend in his arms he kicks up towards the surface and swims them both to shore. He pulls Tim up and checks him over only to find that Tim wasn’t breathing.

For a dreadful moment Kon’s mind shuts down at what this could mean, it couldn’t be happening, there’s no was this was happening, Tim was not dying on him.

While his mind clocked out it seemed like his body was on auto pilot because when his mind clicks back into place he finds himself doing compressions on Tim’s chest and performing CPR. He leans over, tips Tim’s head back and blows into his airway before doing compressions again.

“Come on you son of a bitch, you are not dying on me. I won’t allow it.” He repeats the cycle again. “Come on man, please, I love you stubborn ass human being! You can’t die! Tim please!”

It was in that moment Tim’s body jerks and he’s coughing. Kon immediately rolls him onto his side while Tim empties his body of the water it had consumed. Once Tim was done Kon drags him up into a loose hug and leans against his best friend, enjoying the fact he’s alive.

As he holds his best friend’s shaking form, Kon’s mind goes back to what he had said in his panic and he freezes. He loves Tim. Not in the friendly way either, he loves Tim and he admitted it out loud. He doesn’t know whether he’s pleased or thankful that Tim was unconscious when he slipped up.

A loud explosion to the side gets his attention, right, there’s still a battle going on. For now he’ll push those feelings to the side and deal with them later on. He’ll deal with the fact that he’s in love with his best friend.

----

It’s been over four days since Kon fell into a coma. It’s been three days since Tim last left the room his best friend is situated in.

Tim holds Kon’s limp hand in his own. His best friend was laid up in bed with an oxygen mask over his face and blankets that covered him up to his chest. The mask was there as a precaution, but Kon’s body should be mostly healing itself by now, when they first put him in this room to recover they specifically placed him under the window where the sun would shine through, having that extra light meant that Kon should hopefully recover quicker.

Five days ago the Titans were dealing with a crisis going on in San Fran thanks to the asshole known as Lex Luthor. He had sent an army of robots to attack the city just to the Titan’s attention, or more specifically, Kon’s attention.

While the rest of them had been busy trying to deal with the city Kon had fought against Luthor. It had been a long couple of hours but eventually Kon came and joined them in the fight against the robots and helped them win.

Tim didn’t think anything of it, his best friend seemed alright when he joined them and continued to fight as if he was at 100%. It wasn’t until the end when everything had been solved that Tim realised something was very wrong. Once everything had been dealt with they all grouped together, it was then that Kon keeled over, collapsing on the group unconscious.

As he looks back now Tim couldn’t really remember all the details, everything had blurred into one once he saw Kon go down. All he can recall is lots of yelling, pushing, shoving, panic and distress. The next thing he knows is that two days had gone by and he was now in a room where his best friend was placed when he fell into a coma.

During his time with Luthor, Kon had been stabbed with kryptonite but because of how deep it was in Kon, they had to perform surgery in order to get it all out of him. Tim’s not sure who did the surgery but all he knows is during that time, Kon fell into the coma and no one knows when he’s going to wake up. By now it’s been a few days but there’s still hope yet. It reminds Tim of when his dad fell into that coma and he took up residence with Bruce all those years ago.

Tim strokes his thumb along Kon’s knuckles as he looks at Kon’s still pale face. He wants his best friend back, there’s no way he’s going to be able to go through losing him again. “Kon you better wake up you hear me? You’re strong Kon, please just wake up man.”

His voice disappears in the quietness of the room, evaporating into nothing.

“Once you’re awake I’m going to give you such a beating to your stubborn and stupid ass,” which is true, he’s going to lecture Kon on not telling them he was stabbed as soon as it happened, “Please Kon, I love you and I can’t lose you again.”

As soon as he stops speaking, he freezes, registering the words he just said. He loves Kon. Of course he loves him, Kon’s his best friend but deep down Tim knows his feelings go way beyond friendly. He loves Kon and he just admitted it out loud. He doesn’t know whether to be grateful or disappointed Kon’s unconscious when he said that.

Tim wasn’t religious but in that moment he could kiss God because Kon starts to shift underneath the blanket and lets out a low groan, “What…?”

Tim then knew he was going to be alright.

----

“Man, how do you even put up with these things?” Kon mutters irritably as they sit down on a bench.

Tim chuckles as he watches Kon yank the tie from around his neck off and as he undoes a couple buttons of his shirt, “With a great amount of patience and the knowledge of Alfred helping to cater the food.”

Kon shakes his head, “I don’t know how you do it, these lives that you live. One minute your Tim Drake, next your fearless Red Robin, then you’re Timothy Drake Wayne.”

“I’m just… used to it I guess. I haven’t really known anything else.” Tim comments quietly. It’s true of course, it’s all he’s ever known since his early teen years, and now it’s easy to slip into the mask he needs at that moment. He doesn’t particularly like it but it’s who he is.

They sit on the bench in silence, both of them taking in the warm night and the rare sight of a clear sky, if Tim looks close enough he could see stars sparkling up there.

They’re both at a Wayne Gala charity event. Bruce had told Tim he could have a plus one, so he asked Kon to come along to keep him company. His best friend had only mildly protested at the idea but came nonetheless. They’ve decided to get a breather only two hours into the thing.

“Thanks for coming Kon, I appreciate it.” Tim says glancing at the meta beside him.

Kon looks at him back and waves a hand dismissively, “Ah it’s alright, thanks for asking me.”

“Well it was either you or Bart,” Tim says smirking, “You just happened to be the one I can control easier.”

Kon snorts at that, “Yeah right, like you could control me? Be honest and just tell me that you didn’t want Bart here because you want food left for everyone else.”

“Alright you got me!” Tim laughs putting his hands up in a surrender gesture. “But seriously, thanks I know these aren’t the most exciting.”

They share a smile and fall silent. It was comfortable but Tim couldn’t help but get a sense that there was something else in the air, there was something buzzing between the two of them. Tim could probably guess what it was but didn’t want to admit.

“Hey dude,” Kon starts, he moves so he’s sitting up and facing Tim, “There's something I need to talk to you about.”

Tim feels his heart starting to pound inside of his chest, “Anything. I’m here.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed but something’s been off between the both of us. I can’t say what it is but I need to get something off my chest,” his best friend looks almost pained as he talks and without thinking Tim leans over and grabs his hand, holding it reassuringly. It seems to encourage Kon to go on, “God, I don’t even know how to say this, it could ruin everything and I don’t want it to because you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I don’t know what I would do-”

“I love you.”

“-without you… What?”

Tim blinks at him in horror, he just admitted he loved Kon in front of Kon. “I love you.” He did it again! He gapes hopelessly at Kon, after a moment seeming to find his words that all pour out like word vomit, “I love you Kon and have done for a long time. Only this isn’t like a friendly love anymore, I can’t live without you and when you were in that coma weeks ago I was so petrified but I knew then that I loved you.”

Kon’s blinking at him and Tim wishes he would just say something, anything! When Kon swallows Tim could hear it, he gives the meta’s hand a squeeze before pulling away, however before he could move it Kon’s hand captured his own and laced their fingers together.

“I love you too dude, and have done for a while now as well. As I was saying I don’t know what I would do with you. The other month when you almost drowned I was so scared that I was going to lose you, that’s when I realised it.”

Tim smiles, feeling a massive weight lifted up off of his shoulder as they look at one another. Not a moment later he slides across the bench to capture Kon in a hug. He plants his lips against Kon’s and feels his best friend press back, his lips move against Tim’s and his arms wrap around him.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#timkon #Tim Drake #Kon-El #30 days of domestic fluff #I Love You's #fluff #sappy shit #injuries #coma #getting together #fanfiction #light humour #idiots in love

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alistircrat · 4 years

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Hetalila Fanfiction Recs

Here’s a list of some of my favorite Hetalia fanfictions. Most have pairings, which I’ll specify. I put this up because I know I’m always on the lookout for good fanfiction and I wanted to help out anyone else who’s in the same boat :D Feel free to add onto this or rec me some too ;) Also a good master list of the ones I like LMAO. I’ve noticed I either like tragic, angsty fanfiction or really fluffy ones. A lot are rated M. And a LOT of USUK and Spamano #srynotsry Disclaimer: I did not write any of these; they all belong to their respective authors.

Update: Ive had this sitting in my drafts for like over 4 years and i began it when i was super into hetalia n fanfiction LMAO, what better time to post this when i should be studying lmao its nearly 4 am halp

UsUK

The Secret : Rated T, 32k words, 5 chapters, Drama/Romance, Complete Arthur's sister, engaged to prince Alfred, is killed before she even meets him. Arthur's parents do not want to shame themselves by ending the engagement and force Arthur to dress like his sister and marry Alfred instead. But can this secret be kept? (note: very interesting!! I loved every second of it)

The Courting of Alfred Jones : Rated M, 26k words, 13 chapters, Romance/Hurt/Comfort, Incomplete Alfred Jones is the most popular guy in school and also extremely homophobic. This is why Arthur is his new favourite 'victim', but Arthur has no intentions of grovelling in the dust for him. Punk!ArthurxJock!Alfred (note: Rated M, so there IS some explicit material and I advise viewer discretion. Another highschool AU. Sad that it’s probably not going to finish but it’s worth the read)

When I Only Wanted to Save the World : Rated M, 29k words, 11 chapter, Romance, Complete Alfred is a firefighter in New York City. When he gets badly injured, he takes a trip to London to recover. There he meets a man named Arthur, who ends up helping him recover from wounds he didn't even know he had. (note: warmed my weeb heart)

United Again : Rated T, 31k words, 7 chapters, Humor/Romance, Complete Arthur gets a letter in the mail informing him of his school's ten year reunion.

Unexpected : Rated T, 5.7k words, One-shot, Humor/Drama, Complete World Academy. When Arthur was asked to tutor the star of the American Football team, he expected several things. Sitting in an apartment full of Asian children was not one of them. (cute!)

The Invitational Year : Rated M, 208k words, 41 chapters, Romance/Drama, Complete Alfred is an awkward dork, despite the fact his dad is President. Arthur is a member of British royalty, and he's a perfectionist loner. Both boys are given an invitation to attend the prestigious World Academy and, naturally, they're roomies. (note: A favorite of mine! Quite long but very much worth it. Highschool AU. Can be silly yet dramatic. Anyways, you should read it! Viewer discretion due to sexual themes)

The Sophomore Year : Rated M, 173k words, 34 chapter, Romance/Drama, Complete After meeting at boarding school, Alfred and Arthur became unlikely friends and then lovers. Now, they'll face their sophomore year in America and all the challenges that come with being young, famous, and madly in love. (note: sequal to The Invitational Year)

And All That Jazz : Rated M, 98k words, 22 chapters, Romance, Complete Alfred is approached by the Student Body President, Arthur, for help on his math exam. They hate each other, but maybe opposites can attract with the help of something unexpected. (note: I love this fic. Highschool AU. Also involves music...cuz liek yknow the title)

1912 : Rated T, 52k words, 9 chapters, Romance/Drama, Complete Cynical, overweight and bored in the dull twilight of his empire, Arthur finds distraction in the form of rekindling his relationship with Alfred on board the RMS Titanic during her doomed maiden voyage.

The Arrow was Shot : Rated K+, 5.8k words, One-shot, Romance, Complete In order to win his family's respect, Arthur enters a tournament to win the Princess of America's hand in marriage. At the tournament, he befriends the mysterious Alfred- a fellow competitor who is equally determined to win. As he and Alfred grow closer, he begins to question what is more important to him: his family's respect... or Alfred.

Flirting with Failure : Rated T, 2k words, One-shot, Romance/Humor, Complete Alfred just wanted to get one date with Arthur Kirkland before the semester ended. To do that he had to speak with him. Thus, he was set up for failure.

Hero Frequency : Rated T, 12k words, 3 chapters, Romance/Humor, Incomplete America's got the coolest and most awesome band in school, and he's totally going to win the Battle of the Bands contest. Or at least he might, if he can get England to put aside their past issues long enough to play guitar...

The Gentleman and the Hero : Rated T, 57k words, 21 chapters, Romance, Complete World Academy students have been paired up for an anonymous email exchange program, so they can talk to someone about school and personal problems in private. These are the emails of two students nicknamed 'The Gentleman' and 'The Hero'. (note: I also love this. I find it very cute and also very in character. I want an email buddy lol. Highschool AU)

Breathless : Rated T, 35k words, 4 chapters, Angst/Hurt/Comfort, Complete Arthur Kirkland never thought that golden boy Alfred Jones would ever have a reason to attempt suicide. Then again, how much did he really know about the oh so popular blonde? The rumor mill would surely chew him up and spit him out. (note: p sure this is another favorite of mine. Though angsty, I really enjoyed the development between the two. Highschool AU. Really great read!!)

Static : Rated T, 45k words, 9 chapters, Drama/Romance, Incomplete Sequel to Breathless. Arthur always thought that the incident with Alfred's arms would forever be the biggest hurdle their friendship would face. But as the looks change and the touches linger, it becomes frightfully clear that he was dead wrong about that. (note: continues after Breathless, but not finished ): worth the read anyway)

Ask Me Anything : Rated T, 7k words, One-shot, Romance/Humor, Complete Alfred starts to follow Arthur on tumblr. It's not long until they become friends... and possibly more.

The Cost of Affection : Rated M, 61k words, 32 chapters, Angst/Romance, Incomplete Being a whore is easy: all Arthur has to do is spread his legs and take the money. He doesn't have to face his past; nor does he have to deal with love. And for good reason - because when he does fall head-over-heels for someone, he's forced to realize that his sins go beyond prostitution, and that even as he rediscovers himself, his past is coming back to haunt him after all.

You Can’t Take the Sky Away From Me : Rated T, 113k words, 32 chapters, Adventure/Romance, Incomplete Ace pilot America is on a mission for the World Military when a chance encounter with a group of sky-pirates leads him to team up with their captain, England, against a malevolent group that wants to fill the sky with zeppelins. (note: Steampunk AU. This is a really cool fic!)

We’ll Meet Again : Rated M, 43k words, 13 chapters, Romance/Angst, Complete WW2 AU. London pub owner Arthur Kirkland is driven to distraction by loud, brash American fighter pilot Alfred Jones. Unable to stop it, Arthur finds himself falling for Alfred's charms... just as the pilot is preparing to leave for war. (note: a hetalia fandom clASSIC. MUST READ. unfortunately the OG fics were deleted so someone reposted it, giving credit to the OG author George deValier. this will rip ur heart out n tape it poorly back together)

Franada

La Patisserie de La Rose : Rated M, 35k words, 6 chapters, Romance, Complete Accountant Matthew Williams is used to being unnoticed, ignored, and forgotten. That is until pastry chef Francis Bonnefoy appears like a burst of colour in his dull, grey life.

AmeViet (yes, Vietnam!)

Hard to Get : Rated T, 57k words, 20 chapters, Adventure/Romance, Complete During World War Two, serious, limited Vietnam meets the boisterous America. Amid fighting, friendship, and stress, America tries to get Vietnam to like him, but she won't let that happen. Or will she? (note: One of my all-time favorites, unforgettable. I can never find fics of this pairing, it’s so hard! But this is a really great fic, highly recommend. also after learning more about Vietnam history, i might give this yet ANOTHER re-read with my new perspectives)

Of Broken Promises and the Taste of Freedom : Rated T, 1.4k words, One-shot, Hurt/Comfort/Romance, Complete Vaguely, Vietnam wondered if this was what freedom tasted like. If perhaps, the hot waves that crashed through her body and set her skin on fire was what it was like to know that you are truly free.

GerIta (apologies, I don’t read too much GerIta LOL)

Auf Wiedersehen, Sweetheart : Rated M, 104k words, 18 chapters, Romance/Angst, Complete WW2 AU. Feliciano Vargas is a passionate, if slightly scared, Italian resistance member. Falling in love with a German fighter pilot was the last thing he expected... and it will test his national loyalty, and his heart, to their limits. (note: another VeraVerse, so well written! you will not ragret. also a repost since Og was deleted, all credit to George deValier)

RusAme

Dear Diary : Rated T, 55k words, 17 chapters, Humor/Romance, Complete Alfred F. Jones isn't gay. Just read his diary; you'll see. (note: I absolutely love high school or college AUs, omg. Also this is hilarious. I can really relate to how Alfred's rambling)

PruHun

The Most Awesome Date Plan Ever : Rated T, 7.5k words, 6 chapters, Romance/Humor, Complete It was foolproof. He had worked out every plan, every detail and each possible outcome almost guaranteed him Elizaveta's love. Until it was ruined by Gilbert's two cockblocking best friends. (note: funny and cute)

Táncol? : Rated K+, 24k words, 6 chapters, Humor/Romance, Complete Elizaveta is determined to find out who Gilbert wants to ask out for the school dance. If that means bullying his friends, being hired by Gilbert to slave over a cake, and invading his diaries, so be it. (note: Another favorite! Very cute)

Hello Hurricane : Rated T, 61k words, 18 chapters, Hurt/Comfort/Tragedy, Complete Sequel to "Táncol?" Elizaveta, Ludwig, Francis, and Antonio are forced to watch Gilbert slowly fade away every day. (note: It might seem like I have lots of favorites, cuz I do and this is one of them. Warning, I cried a lot towards the end. Highly recommend)

PruCan

That Song Called Love : Rated T, 62k words, 25 chapters, Romance/Drama, Complete Matthew had always resigned himself to a fate of musical obscurity on a supporting instrument, but after meeting an ex-delinquent named Gilbert, he just might learn to take the lead. (note: contains other minor pairings. Although she doesn’t play a huge role I’m so happy Vietnam is in it Dx)

Operation Not to Hot : Rated T, 10k words, 2 chapters, Romance/Humor, Complete Gilbert Beilschmidt is dorky, nerdy, and has serious confidence issues. He doesn't really care about himself until he sees Matthew Williams, AKA super-hot-hockey-jock. With Matthew's heart in mind, Gilbert undergoes a complete transformation. (note: funny story. Prussia being Prussia)

Overdue : Rated T, 12k words, 8 chapters, Romance/Supernatural, Complete "Well, Gott, Mattie, at least look someone in the eye when you tell them you're a ghost. Make a good impression!" (note: cute lil one-shot series)

I Have all Summer to Fall For You : Rated T, 162k words, 38 chapters, Incomplete At school, Gilbert makes fun of Matthew, and Matthew just wants to be left alone. But then when the hot days of summer roll around, and they have nothing but free time, things happen that NO ONE could have planned for! (note: MY ALL-TIME FAV PRUCAN FiC Ever. Probably will never finish but the length and quality make up for it)

PruAus

Please Don’t Read the Verdict : Rated M, 57k words, 11 chapters, Romance/Crime, Incomplete District Attorney Roderich Edelstein is faced with a gruesome, controversial murder. He has three months to build a case against the accused, but more than his will to prosecute may be destroyed in the process. (note: sadly not done, but highly interesting!)

Lily of the Lamplight : Rated M, 27k words, 4 chapters, Romance/Angst, Incomplete WW2 AU. Austrian musician Roderich and German soldier Gilbert are forced into an army prison unit and a fight for survival on the Russian Front. But in the midst of blood and death and hell on earth, how long can they fight their desire for each other? (note: MY 👏 FAV 👏 VERAVERSE 👏 I loveeee this fic, I’m so SAD it’s nEvEr going to be completed. Savor those 4 chapters. Luckily theyre long *cries* Also love the set of main characters, including Prussia, Austria, Berwald, and Poland. Also listen to the song the title is based off of, i luv it too)

SuFin

Cheers to a New Life : Rated M, 94k words, 47 chapters, Romance/Family, Complete Sweden could only find a job as a Kindergarten teacher and the famous Kirkland's little Peter happens to be enrolled into his class. But it is not Mr. Arthur Kirkland who is picking Peter up, it's this angel with the greatest ass Berwald's ever seen. (note: viewer discretion, mostly on later chapters. also has cute lil Peter/Sealand)

My Heart, In Segments : Rated T, 14k words, 10 chapters, Family/Hurt/Comfort, Complete Berwald is a man left alone, and Peter was a kid left behind. Berwald's not really the perfect dad, Peter's not really innocent anymore, and Tino's not really sure he's ready for something so real. But, maybe... Maybe it's time.

In Want of a Wife : Rated T, 41k words, 18 chapters, Romance/Humor, Incomplete Berwald's life is turned upside down when he is accepted into Hetalia International University, and everything changes for the better when he catches a glimpse of his future wife who lives down the hall. Who cares if Tino doesn't accept it yet? (note: Human AU; Lietpol is a bonus in all this hehe)

Treatment : Rated T, 55k words, 12 chapters, Romance/Humor, Incomplete Tino is a young psychology major, well known for being kind and eager to help others with their issues, but less so for his habit of profiling "patients" on campus. His therapist's eye has fixed on Berwald, but will he be the one who ends up on the couch? (note: Though not fully done, it’s one of my favorite sufin fics. Also hilarious bahah)

Catch Perfect : Rated T, 35k words, 8 chapters, Romance/Friendship, Incomplete When Berwald loses everything he is forced to move into a share house with an insane Dane, a sociopathic Norwegian, an unfathomable Icelander and a perfect Finn who makes it all worth putting up with. (note: can be crazy and random, which is probs why I liked it so much. also by George deValier I believe, reposted onto wattpad after it got deleted)

DenNor

Hummingbird : Rated T, 61k words, 12 chapters, Tragedy/Hurt/Comfort, Complete Lukas' only goal in life was to take care of his younger brother, until he was diagnosed with an irregular heart rhythm. His originally peaceful stay in hospital was interrupted when the loud, cheerful Mathias was moved into the bed beside him and refused to leave him alone; yet as his health began to deteriorate, the Dane decided to fall in love with him. (note: I love this fic so much, it’s also another favorite of mine. Very cute but with lots of angst, ahhh just what I ordered)

Secret Crowds : Rated M, 3.4k words, One-shot, Hurt/Comfort/Romance, Complete An explosion leaves Denmark with a permanent brain injury and Norway struggles to find his role in their relationship as the line between lover and caregiver begins to blur. (sad and touching)

I also read a lot of DenNor so im like ?? where the fics at LOL. but i think i read more DenNor doujinshis, so that’s def something yall should look into

Spamano

A Beautiful Story : Rated T, 16k words, 10 chapters, Tragedy/Romance, Complete Lovino Romano Vargas is a suicidal designer who is unhappy with his fate. One day, he chances to meet Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, who turns his life upside down.

Flashlight : Rated T, 38k words, 11 chapters, Parody/Romance, Complete "If I throw a tomato at you, vampire bastard, will you still sparkle under the sauce?" (note: OKAY SO This is actually a Twilight parody w Romano as Bella and Spain as Edward. I don’t really like Twilight but I really like this version of it lmao. Funny and a good read. Mostly Romano’s POV, cRACK )

New Batteries : Rated T, 41k words, 10 chapters, Humor/Romance, Complete Sequel to Flashlight. "WELL, I NEVER LIKED YOU, EITHER. WHAT NOW, YOU STUPID SPARKLY EXCUSE OF A VAMPIRE?" (note: also a parody, just the sequel to the previous one listed. I understand the Twilight plot through these better than the original)

Kismet : Rated M, 174k words, 52 chapters, Romance/Fantasy, Complete Lovino learns the hard way that things change and that they can change quickly. The necklace fell and now he's in a strange land far from home. Will he ever see his brother again? Will he find his way home? Or will he discover home is where the heart is? Fate is a strange woman and can work in mysterious ways. (note: RATED M, viewer discretion. the author has a list of warnings on the first chapter you can look at so you know what you’re reading. Fantasy AU)

Catch You, Catch Me : Rated M, (basically)37k words, 7 chapters, Drama/Romance, Complete Clumsy, clueless detective Romano is on the trail of the infamous handsome and charming thief El Apasionado Caballero. But there's more to this, what seems like a simple game of cat and mouse, than meets the eye.

The Bet : Rated T, 20k words, 9 chapters, Romance/Humor, Complete When someone kisses you, and then moves away you'd think that would be it. But when Antonio comes back from Spain he wants Lovino to be his again. Except Lovino now hates Antonio...which sucks for Lovino because Antonio isn't going to let go that easily.

Zero Tolerance : Rated M, 55k words, 24 chapters, Romance/Drama, Complete Lovino lives a perfect life. Or atleast thats how he is suppose to appear. Antonio lives a life as a dangerous gangbanger. North Side meets South Side as these two are partnered in their Chemistry class. But there is one chemical reaction these 2 arent prepared for- Love. (highschool AU)

Breathless in the Atmosphere : Rated T, 31k words, 3 chapters, Hurt/Comfort/Romance, Complete Antonio only needed money for marble. He needed to make his art. And a chance encounter on the subway offers him a job as a male escort. It was just for the money. He could stop anytime he wanted to. Really. (note: viewer discretion advised. contains prostitution and suicidal ideation)

Before the Snow Falls : Rated T, 19k words, 2 chapters, Romance/Drama, Complete Lovino, jersey number nine, right winger. He was ready to pass the ball, ready to set up the win, but Antonio, opposite team, center fielder, was ready too. Someone thought, and someone didn't, and they crashed. Hard. A few months later, Lovino's on crutches, Antonio has scholarships, and they have to deal with the aftermath of what happened.

Door to Door : Rated T, 3.5k words, One-shot, Humor/Romance, Complete Do not open the door. It could be a zombie, an unwanted boyfriend of your brother's, or a persistant salesman by the name Antonio Carriedo.

Numbered Lithograph : Rated M, 133k words, 29 chapters, Drama/Romance, Complete When Lovino starts attending art school with his brother he finds his most important lesson doesn't come from his professors, but from a culinary student at a sister school: sometimes the flaws hold the beauty. (note: Probably my favorite spamano fic. Very touching. Has fluff and angst)

Bésame Mucho : Rated M, 48k words, 6 chapter, Angst/Romance, Incomplete WW2 AU. Lovino Vargas only ever wanted something exciting to happen in his boring, everyday Italian village existence. He never expected war, Resistance, love, passion, treason, or a cheerful, confusing, irritatingly attractive Spanish freedom fighter. (note: ANOTHER 👏 ONE 👏OF👏MY👏FAVS👏 BUT SAD BC ITLL NEVER FINISH HDUEOFREGH. Also by George DeValier and reuploaded onto wattpad (originally on ff.net)! I’m in love with the writing. Incomplete but sooo worth the read.)

Bad Touch Trio (may or may not contain pairings/slight pairings)

Oh No, We’re Hot : Rated T, 1.4k words, One-shot, Friendship/Humor, Complete In which, after a summer apart, the Bad Touch Trio realizes that they have become really attractive. Really slight hinted Spamano. (note: I absolutely love the BTT, this is a cute short fic about them)

The Trap : Rated T, 4.7k words, One-shot, Friendship/Humor, Complete The prompt was Prussia and Spain meeting France for the first time, thinking he's a girl, kiddy-courting him, then finding out he's a boy, but still kiddy-courting him. Exactly as wacky as it sounds. (note: another cute story about the BTT and their rad friendship! I need this in my life)

Multiple Pairings

Playing Cupid : Rated T, 24k words, 15 chapters, Romance/Humor, Complete In Everett High School there is a secret club called the yaoi club. It is their job, during Sadies, to set up couples. This year Elizabeta has an ambitious plan. She is going to find a date for the infamous Lovino Vargas. Her choice is Antonio, unfortunately half the girls want to ask him too. Will she and her friends succeed? Spamano, UsUk, Prucan, GerIta, others (note: very cute highschool AU! highly recommend! also contains many of the hetalia girls, which is amazing~)

No Pairings

Bad Pasta : Rated T, 13k words, 6 chapter, Mystery/Tragedy, Complete Kiku and Arthur trade rooms. (note: Author also made a game based on this posted on deviantart: Bad Pasta game. I really liked it, especially since I’m into hetalia fangames and whatnot. warning, contains death of characters)

Fun with Former Vikings : Rated K+, 63k words, 17 chapters, Friendship/Family, Complete Brothers that are too awkward to even stand next to each other, husband and 'wife,' and that one guy that drinks a lot. The Nordics couldn't be any more different. And neither could the situations they get themselves into. (note: I love love love the Nordics. This is also probably one of my all-time favs. I love them as bros Dx)

God Only Threw the Humans out of Paradise : Rated K+, 4.5k words, One-shot, Friendship, Complete 12 years is nothing in the life of a Nation. But to a puppy, it's a lifetime. This is a look at 12 years of England's life through the eyes of man's best friend.

Gutters : Rated M, 98k words, 20 chapters, Adventure/Drama, Complete 'The Calamity' has left the world stripped and dying. Alone in a civilian bunker in Munich, Sealand will be reunited with the last known living member of his surrogate family and together, they will set out across Europe to find those they have lost. (note: It’s an adventure story starring Sealand and Denmark. Can be really intense and eMOTIONAL i cried like a bitch, highly recommend. Probably one of my 👏 favorite👏 fics of all time)

Ditches : Rated M, 2.4k words, 2 chapters, Drama/Family, Incomplete Prequel to Gutters. In the days leading up to The Calamity, the world braces and families struggle not to be torn apart.

Breathe Me : Rated T, 66k words, 21 chapters, Angst/Hurt/Comfort, Complete "God I'm so fat." "No, Alfred. You're not. You're –" "Stop it! I am and you know it! The whole world knows! Just stop okay?" Trigger Warning, Human AU, and F.A.C.E. Family. (note: very important TRIGGER WARNING due to mention of eating disorders, verbal abuse, self-harm, and suicidal thoughts.)

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arcadianambivalence · 4 years

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World on Fire, Episode 4, or How We React to “Normal” in a Crisis

Spring 1940

Months have passed since the last episode, and characters have had time to steady their nerves. Kasia’s previous reservations about killing Germans is largely gone, Lois has decided to have the baby and not involve Harry in her life, Webster and Albert have resolved to stay together, and Nancy has repeatedly tried to sneak her discoveries into her broadcasts (or to smuggle her research out of Germany) despite blackmail.

Other characters have started to lose their determination. Claudia and Uwe’s marriage is falling apart over their differing ideas about how to protect Hilde, Harry is struggling with his responsibilities in combat, and Grzegorz is grappling with his empathy and endurance.

(More under the cut)

The Winter of 1939 – 1940 has ended, and with it, the illusion of peace for Western Europe. Stationed in Belgium, Harry’s group retreats closer and closer to the French border as the German army arrives with far more resources.

Meanwhile, the American hospital in Paris receives wounded soldiers from the front. Refugees fleeing the war need attention too, like a Jewish emigree couple attacked by Anti-Semites, much like Albert was attacked by fascists in the first episode. Henriette, a nurse and Webster’s friend, confides in him that she is Jewish and had hidden that fact when she applied for work at the hospital.

Albert and Webster count their days left together. Webster is happy just to be with him, but Alfred is afraid of being seen. They’ve been together for half a year, and the closest Alfred can get to public displays of affection is a brief kiss after a furtive look around. The reasons for this become all too clear when they return to his apartment to find a swastika on the door and a severed pig’s head on the doorstep.

“I’ll never be safe anywhere in this world,” he tells Webster. “People have got plenty choice of what they might hate me for.”

(I would like to take a moment and appreciate this show for pointing out the fascist movements and rising acts of intolerance all over Europe in the late 1930s and 1940. This is especially visible in the Paris subplot, drawing attention to the wide swath of cultures in the city without entirely romanticizing it as a place of absolute refuge from prejudice. It makes me think the show is laying the foundation for exploring Occupied France and Vichy France next season...)

The German gains in the invasion bring new worry to the Rosslers. “The better the war goes, the worse for Hilde,” Claudia says. Uwe is not happy that Nancy and Claudia continue to meet. Claudia discovers Uwe has registered as a Nazi to cover the family after his conversation with the workers last episode. She is horrified, and the two have a big argument with Nancy uncomfortably caught in the middle. “The Nazis are going to win,” Uwe says. They must appear to be on their side.

Claudia refuses to take the same course of action. She brings Hilde to Nancy to say goodbye, perhaps permanently. Mother and daughter will be staying in a little cabin far away from the city and its watchful denouncers.

Uwe will not be joining them.

Nancy gifts Claudia a bottle of spirits and Hilde American candy, then asks them to listen to her radio show and toast to a better future.

The way Nancy makes sure to place her hand firmly over Claudia’s hurts.

Douglas has concern for his own children’s safety. Tom returns home on leave and confesses that he is thinking about deserting and becoming an official conscientious objector. His father has reservations. Tom could be executed for desertion, and then there are the political ramifications of a pacifist letting his own son into the movement. Hurt and betrayed, Tom leaves home as if he does not plan on returning.

Things fare little better between Douglas and Lois. Although Lois adamantly states that she does not want Harry or his mother involved in her life anymore, Douglas tells Robina that Lois is pregnant in the hopes that Robina’s sense of social (and financial) duty to her grandson will override any qualms about class.

(The cautious back-and-forth between Douglas and Robina is great, as always, and if Harry and Lois don’t get back together, can their parents have something?)

In the middle of these life-changing historical events, characters continue to talk about relationships and their social lives. Lois can’t bring herself to sing one night because she’s heartsick over the realization that her feelings for Harry was a love for a person that never truly existed. Robina and Douglas still have small talk while the latter spoons cubes of sugar into his tea. Stan teases Harry for his two girls back home. Thomasz and Kasia’s interactions are sweet when they get to act like two young adults who aren’t in an occupied country with their lives at risk every minute...then they casually discuss killing a soldier like it’s a fact of life.

Moments like this feel like a kick in the teeth.

On one hand, you could argue that the characters are too blasé about the killings and the risks involved. At one point, Thomasz arrives late to a rendezvous and gives “There was a round-up” as his explanation, almost as if it’s a regular occurrence. On the other hand, wouldn’t it have been? Poland had been occupied for half a year by this point, and maybe Robina was right last episode (to a degree), you do get used to it...or at least, you continue to live alongside it.

All characters undergo a great change in this series, but it’s still startling to see how they react to their circumstances, especially when their reactions are so different from who they were before or how we expected them to be.

Kasia, Harry, and Grzegorz are all placed in perilous situations that ultimately lead to the decision of whether or not to take someone’s life.

Kasia lures an SS officer to a secluded part of town with the expectation that Thomasz will kill him, but when Thomasz has not arrived and the officer starts to go too far, Kasia draws a gun from her purse and kills him. In retaliation for the death of an officer, a new raid is carried out, leading Kasia to come face-to-face with the family of an innocent woman executed for what she did.

The moral quandary in her storyline returns: if killing the enemy results in the death of innocents, do you kill the enemy?

When Harry kills the German sniper, he does it to save his own life, but he also does it to save the lives of the men in his troop. It is one of the few sequences in this show that has the kind of heroics expected of war depictions. But what could in other hands be cathartic violence against non-character antagonists in battle is undercut by Harry’s emotional reaction after the skirmish and the way he freezes at the beginning of the conflict.

He’s not calm-under-fire war hero of fiction, but he’s not exactly a romantic hero, either. Yes, he is the romantic lead of the show, but unlike last episode, he spends his few moments of quiet dealing with his deep-seated familial issues brought out by his powerlessness.

On the run from a death squad, Grzegorz holds a German soldier at gunpoint. The soldier, barely an adult and crying in fear, lowers his jammed weapon. But instead of killing the soldier like Kasia and Harry do, Grzegorz offers his hand. Despite all of the atrocities he has witnessed in the past year: his father’s death, people burned alive in Danzig, narrowly escaping execution, the massacre on the farm, the starvation and sleeping in the woods...and there is still a kind little boy thrown into something much bigger and meaner than he is underneath the exhaustion and self-preservation.

It’s Konrad who kills the soldier, to Grzegorz’s horror.

“I killed one German, just like a German killed your dad.” “Not that German.”

The landscape of the woods around them changes. Snow dusted ground gives way to moss and mud. A spring fog cloaks their journey. And just as the natural landscape subtly changes, so does their luck.

The two stumble across a troop of British soldiers (wait, where are they?) and quickly join the men. Their relief is short-lived, though, and they are soon back in combat. Konrad is shot through the head.

In order to air with a certain rating, World on Fire has to clean up some of the images of violence. You don’t see blood spurt out of people when they’re shot. The scenes of death are not drawn out.

But the image of Konrad, dead before he hits the ground, blood covering face, with a stunned Grzegorz kneeling over him shocked me.

When Grzegorz grieves, the loss of his family comes out, too, for his father Stefan and father figure Konrad.

In Grzegorz’s final scene, he stumbles through a forest, the British soldiers long gone. Spring is here and beautiful, the snow has melted away, the birds are chirping, and green has returned to the Earth. Grzegorz seems unaware of the world around him, only the journey ahead in the middle of anywhere and nowhere.

Spoiler

The next episode’s promo places him on a beach. Is he transported out of Poland by a ship on the Baltic sea? Or are we supposed to believe Grzegorz and Konrad have spent all winter and spring walking through Poland, Denmark, Germany, the Netherlands, Belgium, and finally into France?

Notes

Konrad calls Grzegorz son...

After a disastrous cup of tea with Douglas, Robina makes sure to pay for the both of their orders before leaving

Tom brings the canary home, a visual connector between Jan and his bird in the pilot and Tom now

When Kasia breaks the news to the Polish family of the executed woman, Thomasz notices a German officer kissing a Polish woman next door, which indicates that not all Poles consider Germans the same way they do (and raises the threat of someone recognizing them later)

Robina casually mentions the newly-appointed Churchill to see Douglas’s reaction

#world on fire #world on fire pbs #world on fire bbc #world on fire masterpiece

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myfangirllists · 5 years

Text

Fanfiction List (USUK)

A compilation of my favorite USUK works!

Completed and uncompleted

Dead Ringer by Fire_Bear

Arthur is having lunch with a co-worker when a couple pass by and tell him he looks exactly like the man an entire art exhibition is based on. Dragged to the gallery, he finds not only some amazing art but also someone he has not seen in years...

Type: One shot

Keep Quiet by AkaiShinda (orphan_account)

Starting from a prompt. After being saved by a stranger, Arthur is waken by his savior; a young man with an unusual mission in the evenings and who protects him even from himself in a surprisingly natural, tender way. They don't know each other, but Alfred is determined to help him in recovery. After getting to know him slightly better Arthur is dazed to realize, Alfred's personality is the unification of enigmas and on the other side, pure and clear intentions. He can't help but stick around and carefully mend the pieces together... only to find entirely new purposes to live for.

Type: Multi chapters

Status: Incomplete

The Languages of Love by merakily (fengbi)

Arthur and Alfred first meet as university students in a coffee shop. This is how they came to spend their lives together.

Type: One shot

From Me To You by a_forgotten_note

After going through three several years of schooling, Alfred comes to the startling realization that he had no plans after college. Without much else to go for, he enrolls in the military for four years of initial deployment. But Afghanistan becomes very lonely very quick... In hopes of rekindling an old friendship, Alfred writes to his old college roommate. The only question is: will their letters relieve his homesickness, or will it only become worse?

Type: One shot

A Week in a Hotel by bluekujira

This is a fanfiction I wrote for my friend (zombiepurplefox on tumblr) based off a prompt she sent me!

I apologize for any errors I did go back an edit this but I still might have missed stuff!

Also I changed the prompt slightly. Instead of living together they stay in a hotel together.

The Prompt: 'You live in the apartment above me and your water pipes burst and is flooding into my apartment and you can hear me yelling so you come down to my apartment to see what's going on and witness me standing in my kitchen/bathroom/whatever, holding an umbrella, screaming at the water pouring out of my ceiling and crying because I have no idea what to do and we both just kinda stand there in shock as my stuff gets ruined and you let me crash at your place til my place gets fixed cause you feel bad' (CREDIT TO shittemore on tumblr for this prompt)

Type: Multi chapters

Status: Complete

Forever Mine by anon posted at hetalia_kink

Dating a serial killer!AU. Arthur was attacked by a serial killer on the bus on his way home.

Type: Multi chapters

Status: Completed

Complicated Shadow by Ellarose C

The US government's witness protection program has never had a witness die while under its protection. After innocent civilian Arthur Kirkland witnesses a murder ordered by the Vargas mob, will a hero's protection be enough to keep the record clean?

Type: Multi chapters

Status: Completed

♡ Cuckoo in the Nest by PennyLane

Human AU. Arthur is a famous novelist in hiding from the paparazzi after he is publicly humiliated when he is left standing at the altar. Alfred is the very competent personal assistant hired by Arthur’s agent to keep him hidden and safe while he completes his newest novel, the novel that just might change all their lives. [Previous Spain/England relationship.]

Type: One Shot

American in America by Ferrero13

America, being America, says something he should've known better than to say in his own airport, whereupon he is taken in for questioning and finds it very difficult to explain why this particular nineteen-year-old seems to be as politically active as the President himself.

Type: One Shot

Work Your Magic by PixieDust291

Arthur is a wizard who's being forced into an arranged marriage despite his protests. Though, it seems he is saved by a magical Scottish fold named Iggy. With Iggy as his familiar Arthur finds himself not only falling in love with a human but also surrounded by a sea of lies and deception. When nothing else makes sense, what can one believe to be the truth?

Type: Multi chapters

Status: Completed

Divination's Greatest Flaw by rae1112

Arthur Kirkland, master of Divination, fancied himself a prophetic matchmaker. His best friends would agree...if only he could make a prophetic match for himself.

Pottertalia.

Type: Two Shot

Day One by mandathegreat

“Day One: My name is Arthur Kirkland, and I am currently in Atlanta, Georgia. I am recording myself, and my experiences, because—well, I don’t know. I think it’s the end of the world—“

Arthur and Alfred meet at the end of the world. They are going to have to learn to survive.

USUK Walking Dead AU

Type: One Shot

A Proof of Diplomacy by orphan_account

“If you leave me, I’ll kill you. I could kill you here and now.”

After the war, in his most vulnerable years, Arthur, or Great Britain, is at his most dishonest. He lies to himself more than anyone. Apart from Alfred, the United States, perhaps. He lies when he says that he doesn't believe Alfred's lies and hopes, his beautiful, beautiful lies.

Type: One Shot

Standing In Your Heart by amine

"Arthur had gone from spending the afternoons with his friend to having his magical training increased tenfold. Warlocks would be needed to ensure that Spades maintained the upper hand in the war, and the Kirkland family had a long tradition of powerful magic. Arthur hadn’t complained and had instead thrown himself into his studies so as to be an asset to the new king. His love for the kingdom of his birth demanded it.

More than that, his love for Alfred demanded it."

Type: One Shot

Communication is Key by inkwells_writing

Arthur had good friends he supposed.

But right now, Arthur hated them. They were just trying to be nice, but really. They thought he was single, and that he had been single for a very long time. And yes, he had been single for two years before he started dating Alfred, but he was now in a three month-long relationship. A three-month long happy relationship. A three-month long happy, and sadly, secret relationship.

They just had to go and set him up on a bloody blind date. Arthur just had no idea how he was going to tell his boyfriend.

Type: One Shot

Hospital Flowers by hoshiko2kokoro

A firefighter has done more than just save Arthur's life. He's giving him a whole new perspective on life.

Type: Multi chapters

Status: Completed

Where The Most Beautiful Roses Grow by fakiagirl

Arthur moves into a quiet American suburb with the intention of starting a new, calmer chapter of his life. It doesn't take long for him to meet Alfred, one of his new neighbors. Little does he know that this is a place where romance can bloom.

Type: Multi chapters

Status: Completed

A Distance of 3000 Miles by fakiagirl

5000 kilometers; the distance between their two closest shores. A safe distance, close enough that they can see each other occasionally, but far enough away that neither of them will ever get hurt again. Then, one summer, Alfred visits.

Type: Multi chapters

Status: Completed

♡ Starships by PixieDust291

Blind and held prisoner, Arthur finds himself at the mercy of Alfred, a space pirate with a truly curious crew. Alfred is determined to seduce Arthur, and Arthur fears his resolve won't last. His duty is clear, but so is his desire. As the days tick by Arthur begins to question what loyalty means. He begins to realize that being a prisoner may actually set him free.

Type: Multi chapters

Status: Completed

Look to the Future Now, It's Only Just Begun by Teenage Mouse

Pottertalia. Arthur and Alfred are paired up to read each other's love fortunes in Divination class. Naturally, they're both too obvlious to realise that the signs are pointing to each other.

Type: One Shot

♡ We'll Meet Again by George deValier

WW2 AU. London pub owner Arthur Kirkland is driven to distraction by loud, brash American fighter pilot Alfred Jones. Unable to stop it, Arthur finds himself falling for Alfred's charms... just as the pilot is preparing to leave for war.

Type: Multi chapters

Status: Completed

Keep Smiling Through by George deValier

'We'll Meet Again' mini-sequel. Keep smiling through, just like you always do; 'til the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away! USUK

Type: One Shot

♡ Pointblank by worldaccordingtofangirls

WWII AU: Arthur is a gifted volunteer doctor. Alfred is a bomber pilot. Love strikes us pointblank, right between the eyes, in the most inconvenient of places. The battlefield is no exception.

Type: Multi chapters

Status: Completed

Man's Best Friends by Inkblooded Witch

Monty doesn't consider himself a needy sort of cat. He and his human have an understanding of how things work, and Monty was under the impression that part of this understanding included a 'No Dogs' rule. So he's not best pleased when his human finds a mate that has one of the beasts.

Mostly pet POV, USUK on the side. Experimental slice-of-life style, be nice! :)

Type: One Shot

Smart Pranks by SillyKwado

Alfred and Arthur were famous throughout the school for not getting along. Even though the two history teachers and had to set an example for the students, they still ended up resorting to petty pranks and arguments. For some reason, the two always found something to argue about or a new way to rile the other up. But perhaps there's a deeper meaning to the pranks and insults…

Type: One Shot

#fanfiction recommendation #Fanfic list #usuk #hetalia #yaoi #hetalia: america #hetalia: united kingdom

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hafanforever · 6 years

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Searchers of the Lost Parents

Several months ago, I watched Raiders of the Lost Ark for the very first time, and I really loved it. Since seeing it, I have noticed just how much it inspired moments in The Jungle Movie as well as its prequel episode “The Journal.” Here are all of the scenes I caught from the movie and episode that parallel moments from the first Indiana Jones adventure.

“The Journal”

While in San Lorenzo, Miles and Stella come upon a temple that houses hundreds of big spiders. In the prologue of Raiders of the Lost Ark, which is set in Peru, spiders (specifically, tarantulas) are the first defense Indiana Jones encounters in the Temple of the Chachapoyan Warriors.

Upon seeing the numerous spiders within this temple, Miles freaks and shouts how much he hates spiders. (”I hate spiders! I hate spiders! I HATE SPIDERS!!”) Indiana reacts very similarly when he finds his pilot Jock’s snake in the plane cockpit with him. (”I hate snakes, Jock! I HATE ‘EM!”)

Miles uses a whip several times in the episode, the first time being when he uses it to swing him and Stella over a waterfall. Indiana is also famous for wielding a whip, with one of the first times being when he swings across a chasm in the aforementioned temple.

Miles telling Stella not to look at the almost-unveiled Corazón parallels Indiana telling Marion not to look at the Ark of the Covenant after it is opened by Belloq and the latter’s cohorts.

The Jungle Movie

The film’s main antagonist Lasombra is voiced by Alfred Molina, who made his film debut in Raiders of the Lost Ark as Satipo, one of the guides in the prologue. Both characters are greedy antagonists who seek a fabled treasure, but die after briefly having the treasures in their possessions.

Arnold’s amulet acts as a key to his map by revealing hidden information and directions to the Green-Eyes’ city. The amulet’s function may be a reference to the medallion that acts as the headpiece to the Staff of Ra, which reveals the location of the Well of the Souls (the resting place of the Ark).

Arnold, Helga, and Gerald encounter several booby traps on their trek to find the city, the first one of which involves arrows shooting out a wall when one steps on the wrong tiles. Indiana faces an almost-identical type of booby trap that is used as the final obstacle in getting to the Chachapoyan Fertility Idol.

Gerald sitting on the platform of the Green-Eyes’ shrine and sinking into the well may be a reference to when the shrine’s platform sinks after Indy replaces the idol with the bag of sand.

During the battle in Lasombra’s camp, Eugene, whose body is still inflated due to his pitaya allergy, rolls down a guard and says he's like "the big ball in that movie.” This is, of course, a clear reference to the famous scene of Indy racing from the large, round boulder in the temple.

Lasombra using Arnold as bait in his pursuit of the Corazón may be meant to be like Belloq and the Nazis following Indy in their search for the Ark. In both cases, the villains meet their ends soon after opening (and looking at) the coveted treasures.

#Hey Arnold! analyses #Nickelodeon #Paramount #Hey Arnold!#Indiana Jones #Raiders of the Lost Ark #Hey Arnold!: The Jungle Movie #The Jungle Movie #The Journal #parallels #similarities #my stuff #mine

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the-observant-frisbeetarian · 5 years

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Chapter 14

Auf Wiedersehen, Sweetheart by George deValier

"Feli! Mio Dio, Feli… cosa faccio… non so cosa fare!"

"Schwarz Leader, another one coming down on your tail, six o'clock high, over."

"Listen to me, Lovino. I can't understand you. You have to stop panicking. He is still breathing."

"I'm on it." Ludwig manoeuvred his plane into a hard dive descent, turned abruptly, and fired. The Mustang had no chance. It exploded into a dazzling inferno against the clear blue sky. Ludwig flew over the falling wreckage and went immediately, determinedly, for the next enemy aircraft.

"You have to keep him warm during the drive, and keep this pressure on the wound. Do not stop the pressure, Lovino, understand?"

"Schwarz Leader, you are flying too erratically. I am having trouble keeping on your wing..."

"I am so sorry, sir, I did not realise... i-it was j-just… just a mistake... I swear, sir, if I had known…"

Ludwig practically snarled into his mask. "You will keep up, Schwarz Two. You will do your damn duty and you will push them back!" Another Mustang fell, spiralling towards the ground in trails of flaming smoke. Ludwig felt only the slightest rush of satisfaction before scanning the sky swiftly for his next target.

"I can't... We can't go with them! Ma è una pazzia! What if they..."

"There are too many, Schwarz Leader! Lieutenant, you're flying directly into - Beilschmidt, what the hell are you doing?"

"Lovino, they will take Feliciano to the nearest doctor, then leave immediately. They are just soldiers, not SS. They do not know you are Resistenza."

Ludwig couldn't stop. Enemy planes surrounded him, outnumbered his squad. But he could not stop; he could not make himself stop. This familiar, comforting chaos was the only thing that almost drowned out his memories, almost drowned out his fears. Almost. Ludwig shouted into his mask. "I am the commander of this squad, so you will follow my orders, Schwarz Two. Engage enemy aircraft!"

"They just shot him! How can we trust them? Why should I trust you?"

Turn, fire, dive, climb. Get one down, move on to the next. Keep his squad together. Focus, breathe. "This is Schwarz Leader to Schwarz squadron. We will not pull back from this. Force them into retreat. That is an order."

"Because you have no choice. I would die for him, Lovino, if I could. But this is all I can do. Now go!"

Only when the skies around him were clear did Ludwig finally feel his heart beat in his chest, his lungs fill with air. Only when there were no enemy fighters left to engage did he stop to think. An angry voice crackled through his speakers and drowned out the blood roaring in his ears. "Ground Control to Schwarz Leader. You will bring your squad back to base immediately!"

Once safely landed at the base, Ludwig leapt from his plane, his blood pounding, his head hazy with fury. He threw his headgear angrily to the ground and charged immediately to where his wingman climbed from his own plane. The man's feet had barely hit the ground before Ludwig grabbed him by the collar and slammed the shocked pilot against the side of the machine. "You will never question me in the middle of battle, understand? NEVER!"

The wingman looked like he was about to respond angrily, but Ludwig felt his eyes flare and the man just dropped his gaze and looked away. "Yes, sir."

Ludwig shoved him away forcefully before turning and marching across the airfield, feeling the eyes of his squad on him as he went. He headed directly for the command tent to explain himself yet again.

When Ludwig first arrived back, the military had not asked too many questions. For that, he was grateful. They accepted his made-up story of how he had escaped, sent him on to the next base, and almost before he knew it Ludwig was back to flying, back to doing what he knew best. Back to the same daily schedule, the same day in, day out, the same old black and white. And yet, something was different now. It used to be so easy. When he flew for duty, and his country was all that mattered. When he was a rising young hero of the Luftwaffe who knew nothing of true love or real fear or wide, amber eyes that glittered in early sunshine and afternoon firelight. Now, when Ludwig flew, all he wanted was the fire and the fury of it. The heat and the anger and the blood firing through his veins. Now, all he wanted was to take his mind somewhere else, and he was never quite sure if he wanted to remember or forget.

But now every memory of Feliciano was tainted. Every image of him smiling in the sunlight cut through with the image of him falling and bleeding and turning white. The look of joy and innocence on his face replaced by an expression of wrenching terror and wordless agony. The sound of his clear laughter and singing drowned out by his desperate gasping for breath. This constant turning in Ludwig's mind, this recurring, inescapable replay of events, this endless onslaught of bitter, inescapable memory. The sound of that shot, the twisted look of pain on Feliciano's beautiful face, the way he tried so hard to fight it and keep his eyes open, the way he looked up at Ludwig as though silently begging him for help.

And Ludwig could do nothing. Nothing but cling to Feliciano with desperate hands, order him, plead with him. Nothing as Ludwig's world fell apart before him, as a cold, sick terror unlike anything he had ever known engulfed his mind and body. Nothing as he yelled, confounded, at the German patrol soldiers, as they apologised for their stupid, pointless, world-ending mistake. As Lovino panicked beside him, as Ludwig forced him to take Feliciano and go with the soldiers to a hospital. As Ludwig watched Feliciano go, beyond any fear he had ever imagined, beyond any pain he had thought possible, beyond any hope he dared bring himself to believe.

Every time the circle of memory replayed, Ludwig's mind told him the same thing. No one could survive that. He knew no one could survive that. So why did he refuse to believe it? Maybe because some part of him knew that if he did, he would have nothing left. And he could not live with that. As it was, Ludwig lived for one thing - to know if Feliciano was alive. Yet he had no way to know, and no possible way to find out. And it was killing him. So every day, Ludwig did the only thing he could do. He went up, he did his job, and he tried to remember; tried to forget.

Ludwig walked slowly up the cement road: command buildings and the large, steel hangar on one side, the wide, open airfield on the other. This new base Ludwig had been assigned to was much further north than Feliciano's village, closer to the Austrian border. The Germans had lost too much ground in Italy, lost far too many bases in the northern area. With nowhere left to accommodate them, a small section of the airbase was serving as a temporary base for a small group of SS officers, and even occasionally members of the Gestapo. The very idea of it caused Ludwig's skin to crawl in disgust, uneasy at the proximity of such people. None of the pilots liked the arrangement; but then, as Ludwig was quickly coming to realise, their thoughts had never mattered anyway. Ludwig used to believe they were making a difference. Now he knew that all they were was puppets.

Ludwig pulled on his gloves forcefully, ignoring the occasional glances and whispers he received from other pilots and personnel as he passed. He was used to everyone here staring and speaking about him. He was the brilliant young lieutenant who had not only survived being shot down by the Americans, but had managed to escape them as well. He was the once strict, reliable, straight-laced flight leader who now ordered his squad into dangerous, impossible situations and yet still managed to come out successful. He was feared, respected, misunderstood – and Ludwig could not give a damn for any of it.

Ludwig continued to prepare mentally for the flight ahead, to get himself into the right space, to crave the white noise and red fury of combat. To try not to think, or to think of nothing; still with that photograph in his jacket and that flower in his pocket. He nearly did not notice as he almost walked into a group of pilots standing at an intersection of the road. They all stood silently, watching where a car sat at a short distance, several grey-uniformed SS members milling around it. Ludwig halted immediately. "What's going on here?" he barked at the assembled pilots. "Do you men have nothing better to do than stand around spying on the Secret Police?"

The pilots looked at him guiltily, but one, another lieutenant, spoke up. "They've brought a prisoner in. A pilot."

Ludwig narrowed his eyes. "A pilot? But why…" He trailed off when the door of the car opened and a man in an American air combat uniform was hauled from the back seat. He was barely able to walk, supported under each arm by an SS officer. The front of his jacket was burned black, his hair looked matted with blood. He had no strength to resist the violent grip on his arms. Ludwig remembered the almost courteous way he had been brought into the American base, and nearly choked on a wave of anger and disgust. The lieutenant's voice beside Ludwig broke him from his angry haze.

"That's the Magician they're bringing in." The small group of pilots stared silently in dismay and awed respect. "Looks like he couldn't disappear this time."

The American pilot raised his head slightly and Ludwig bit back a gasp of shock. The man beside him was correct – this was the Magician. The American pilot who had shot Ludwig down, the one who had chatted to him cheerfully; who had treated him with a strange, arrogant sort of civility, who had placed the photograph of Feliciano in Ludwig's pocket. Lieutenant Alfred Jones. He looked almost dead. Ludwig shook his head at the bitter irony, at this horrible twist of fate. "When was he brought down?" asked Ludwig. "Why did we not know about it?"

"Squadron up north apparently, right on the border. SS says he took down seven of them."

Ludwig glanced at the man in stunned disbelief. He couldn't have heard that correctly. It was impossible... "Seven?"

The lieutenant nodded. "That's why we haven't heard about it, I imagine. The SS have been interrogating him. Haven't gotten anywhere. So now the Gestapo are going to have a go."

Ludwig felt sick and confused. "For God's sake why, he is just an American pilot… we shoot them down every day!"

"Didn't you hear? They say he's been collaborating with the Italian resistance." The lieutenant shook his head and spat on the ground. "Who knows how these bastards get their information."

Ludwig felt his blood and muscles freeze in shock. His mind flashed briefly back to those words of Feliciano's… Someone gave me information, but it doesn't matter… In the frantic rush of that late night getaway, in the incredible, breathtaking bliss of just being again with Feliciano, in the panic and terror of those excruciating moments on the road, Ludwig had barely had the time to properly wonder just how Feliciano had managed to find out where he was. But now, Ludwig knew. It was Jones. It had to be him. Ludwig clenched his fists at the sight of the American lieutenant burnt, bleeding and broken. His nails dug into his flesh. "It's not right."

"Not for us to decide, is it?"

The officers dragged Jones off the road and into one of the long, grey buildings which had been designated for SS use. As they passed, Ludwig's gaze met Jones' briefly, but he wondered if those desperate eyes saw anything. This was the man who had told Feliciano where Ludwig was. This man was the reason Ludwig was free and standing here, watching him being dragged to interrogation and torture. Anger and grief and utter hopelessness all fell on Ludwig, pushing him down, turning everything he ever thought he knew of honour and duty and loyalty to ruin.

"Come on," said the Lieutenant beside him, the pilots slowly starting to drift away, their eyes cast downward. "We have a mission briefing."

Ludwig reluctantly walked away.

Another flight, another chance to forget. But there were no enemy aircraft today, and no aerial battle to lose himself in. With no way to release any of his anger and frustration, Ludwig lay staring at the dark ceiling in his tiny room at the base, unable to sleep. There were too many dark emotions thrumming under his skin, too many twisting thoughts racing through his brain. Ludwig never used to think like this, to feel like this. But factions seemed so blurred since he'd met Feliciano, and nothing was the way it was supposed to be anymore. Along with the ever-present thoughts and fears and images of Feliciano, now Ludwig also could not stop thinking of Lieutenant Jones. Of his wide, panicked, unseeing eyes, of his battered body hauled into an interrogation building. Ludwig did not like to think of it, but he knew what happened in that building. He knew the Gestapo did not represent the true soul of his country; he also knew what they did in the name of it. And Alfred Jones was a good man. He did not deserve what was happening to him. Ludwig tossed in his narrow bed, uncomfortable with the thoughts crowding his mind, and tried to tell himself – there were millions of good men who did not deserve what was happening to them every day in this war. That was what war was. Ludwig tried to justify it, but he couldn't. Because this was one situation he could do something about. And if Feliciano could be that brave for him – then Ludwig could do something brave and right as well. All traces of fatigue and sleep fell from him, and Ludwig pushed himself from the bed, awake and thrumming and determined. And he came to a decision.

These buildings were not designed for Gestapo use. There were no impossible collection of locks on the doors, no hidden rooms behind innocent walls. There was simply a long, brightly lit corridor, doors leading to windowed rooms, indifferent staff whose eyes glossed over the tall, large blond in the grey police jacket who marched through the nearly empty hall. Ludwig kept his eyes forward, his shoulders straight. If there was one thing he had learnt from years in the military, it was that if you looked like you belonged somewhere, few people asked questions. His pulse beat steadily, his focus sharp and unwavering. He felt like he did in the middle of a flight – ready, determined, and prepared. Fear did not enter the equation.

Ludwig took a sharp turn into another corridor, and his stomach immediately jumped. The lights ended halfway down the hall, leaving the far end covered in shadow. It was entirely empty, entirely silent. Ludwig took a deep, steadying breath and marched briskly down the hall. His mind could barely acknowledge what he was doing. Pilots were not allowed in this section of the base. He had no idea how he would explain himself if he was caught. He had no idea how to even explain it to himself. Just what was he doing, trying to find this American pilot? Just what did he think he could do in the end? And why did it suddenly matter so damn much?

Ludwig reached the last door on the right, the only one with a folder attached to the front and a small, makeshift lock above the door handle. Ludwig turned and looked again down the hall, his eyes sweeping through every shadow and his ears tuned for the smallest echo. There was nothing. He raised an eyebrow, finding himself strangely put out by his military's lack of security. Yes, it was the early hours of the morning, but it should not be this easy to make his way to an important prisoner's room unimpeded. Ludwig turned back and studied the door closely in the dim light that filtered down the hall. Since these rooms were never designed to be prisons, proper locks had not been fitted. And this bolt on the door looked far too flimsy to be effective. Ludwig simply grasped the handle, pulled to steady it, then slammed his arm down on the lock. It ripped from the door, and Ludwig dropped it disdainfully to the ground before entering the room.

It felt colder in the small, white room. A cold, sterilised smell pervaded the air, mixed with a hint of blood. Only one high window lent a small amount of light to the place, showing it empty but for a table in the centre and an iron bed against the far wall. And there, unnervingly still and white in the moonlight, lay Lieutenant Alfred Jones. Ludwig hurried over to his side with a mixture of relief and horror in his gut. Jones' eyes were closed, his breathing low and shallow. Ludwig could not tell if he was asleep.

"Lieutenant Jones."

Jones did not open his eyes. He answered in a slow, broken monotone. "Name, Alfred Jones. Rank, Lieutenant. Serial number, 501/7." His voice was low and hoarse.

Of course… the only three things required to be said in military law. Ludwig had employed the same tactic when he had been captured. The Americans had tried to get more from him, had kept him awake for hours asking questions. But they had never tried anything like this. "Jones, I need you to tell me something."

Jones' breath came faster and his hands clenched. "Name, Alfred Jones. Rank, Lieutenant. Serial number, 501/7." He obviously thought he was still being interrogated.

"No, listen, I…"

Jones' voice rose louder. "Name, Alfred Jones. Rank…"

"Damn it, listen to me, I am not an interrogator. My name is Lieutenant Beilschmidt." Jones did not answer. "Ludwig," Ludwig explained. "Ludwig Beilschmidt."

Jones' eyes shot open. They were a sickening shade of red and darted frantically before settling on Ludwig's. "Ludwig… the German pilot… Feliciano…"

Ludwig nodded in relief. So it was as he had thought. Jones had spoken with Feliciano. "Yes."

"What are you doing here? You escaped? How?" Jones spoke slowly, his words slurred.

"I was hoping you could tell me. Are you the one who told Feliciano where I was being held? Because if you did, I am here because of you."

Jones made a croaky gasp which might have been a laugh. "I see. Forgive me if I don't celebrate your release." It seemed to be increasingly difficult for Jones to form the words. "My regard for German servicemen has been somewhat damaged lately." He suddenly gasped and clutched at his shoulder, his face twisted in pain. He was in terrible shape, yet as bad as it looked, it seemed the Gestapo had not yet got to him. If they had, he would be far worse than this. Jones' entire manner was slow and groggy. Ludwig had heard of the drugs the SS used to extract confessions from prisoners, and wondered just how much of this conversation Jones would remember.

"I am sorry," said Ludwig softly, honestly. "I just want you to know that… that…"

"Yeah?"

To know what? What could Ludwig do now? At the sight of Alfred Jones lying in drugged agony from the hands of Ludwig's own military, he knew immediately. He could not leave this man here much longer. "I am going to repay the debt I owe you."

Jones glared at him with blood-red eyes. "We'll see… about that." He dissolved into a coughing fit and turned away. Ludwig nodded and walked out the door, passing a lower ranked SS member on his way down the corridor. He snapped at the man loudly.

"The last door on the right. Fix the damn lock."

Once the decision was made, it became surprisingly easy to follow through. For the first time in his life, Ludwig was doing something because he thought it was right, not because it was what he was told. For the first time, he was ignoring his duty, and breaking the rules. Damn the rules. Damn it all. His superiors, his leaders… what did he owe any of them? Which of them had ever done more for him than this unknown American? Ludwig was reminded of the words Feliciano had asked him so simply, so innocently, on that long ago winter afternoon they had walked together to the village market. Is that why you do it? Because it is your duty? When Ludwig had been so sure it was not his place to question his country's reasons; when Feliciano had told him so easily that it was.

Ludwig sat at the outdoor café in the little border village, waiting for the contact he had been assigned. Whether this was to betray his country or redeem himself, he did not know. It had taken him two days and endless broken, suspicious conversations with villagers to track down someone who knew something of the Resistenza, and a further day to convince them to allow Ludwig to meet with one of them. Ludwig was unarmed and dressed in civilian clothes. To the busy throng of Italians who passed by on the sunny street, he could have been anyone. Watching them pass, Ludwig again could not stop the memories of Feliciano flooding his heart and mind. How charmingly innocent he had looked sitting at a street table just like this as an SS execution squad approached the town square; how afraid and horrified he had looked as he realised what was happening. How desperate Ludwig had been to get him away from that, to protect him from having to see something like that. How his lovely face had lit up as Ludwig brought up their language lesson, trying to take his mind off the ugly events that had just occurred. Ludwig put his head in his hands briefly, overcome by this familiar, desperate, unbearable ache for Feliciano. Feliciano, who was too innocent, too pure, too sweet and honest and beautiful for any of this. Feliciano never deserved any of this.

Rubbing his face with his hands, Ludwig looked up to see a broad, dark haired man push through the busy café crowd, his eyes fixed on Ludwig. Ludwig's entire body jolted to a rigid halt. His eyes froze, wide and unblinking; his very lungs seemed to steal the breath from him and turn it cold. He could not remove his hands from his face, could not make himself stand, could do nothing but watch as the man marched through the parting crowd to stand directly over him. The man stared down with hard, dark eyes, with a disapproving, hostile expression. For the first time in weeks, Ludwig felt a flash of fear. He knew immediately who this was. The same hair, the same eyes. A bigger, older, sterner version of Feliciano. This was Feliciano's grandfather. Ludwig finally swallowed heavily and forced himself to his feet, completely numb to the sensation of it. When he eventually managed to speak, he stumbled over the words. "Signor Vargas."

"Lieutenant Beilschmidt."

They just stared at each other, silently, neither making a move to back down or look away. In the heavy silence, Ludwig realised – this man knew who he was. Knew what he was to Feliciano. This man knew everything. Finally Vargas broke the silence, speaking in English. "You are taking a very big risk coming here, German."

"So are you."

Vargas did not respond to that. "I have been informed you have information for..."

"Please," interrupted Ludwig, unable to wait anymore, unable to stand it. This was more than he had dared to hope. This was the chance he had prayed for, begged for. This was finally his opportunity, after weeks of ignorance and hell, to know the only thing he had ever really needed to know. "Feliciano. Please tell me he is alive."

Vargas raised an eyebrow dangerously. "If that is all I am here for, German, if you have lied about having something of vital importance for us only to be able to ask…"

"I have not lied." Ludwig barely noticed or cared that he was interrupting. He had never needed anything in his life like he needed to know, right now, if he had anything left to live for. "I swear, I have your information. I am simply asking to know one small thing in return. I need..." Ludwig broke off shakily and ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm his ragged nerves. "Please, signore, I need to know."

Vargas took a deep breath, pondering the request. "Perhaps we should take a seat to discuss this, Lieutenant."

Ludwig nodded, sitting so fast he nearly knocked the chair over. He gritted his teeth and told himself to get it together. Vargas sat carefully in the seat opposite him, not tearing his eyes from Ludwig's the entire time.

"You have been asking questions in town, Lieutenant. Questions that an officer of the Luftwaffe should not be asking. You are very, very lucky that information of this came to me, and not to others who might be dangerously suspicious of what a German officer is doing asking after the Italian resistance." Vargas sounded like Feliciano, but deeper; his eyes were Feliciano's, but slightly darker. And he knew. He knew if Feliciano was alive. But this was a man of battle, and he was going to make Ludwig fight for the information. Ludwig drew himself up in his chair, squared his shoulders and raised his chin. He would show this Italian how he could fight.

"And you are giving your name, showing your face to a German officer in close contact with the Secret Police. I believe we could both be in a dangerous situation here, signore." Ludwig glared evenly.

Vargas' eyes flashed, but the corner of his mouth actually rose slightly. "Well said, German. Although I doubt very much you went to all this trouble just to put an old man in the hands of the SS."

"Not just any old man. From what I have heard of you, Roma Vargas, you are an enemy to be feared." Ludwig knew immediately this was the right thing to say. Vargas looked quite pleased.

"All right, German. Give me this information of yours, and we will see where we go from there."

Ludwig nodded and leant forward slightly. "There is an American pilot at our base. He is being interrogated."

Vargas furrowed his brows. "Interrogated at an air base?"

"Due to certain circumstances, we are being forced to share our base with those we would prefer to distance ourselves from. When I say I am in close contact with the Secret Police, signore, I mean it quite literally."

Vargas' features twisted in disgust. "I see. So the SS interrogates shot down American pilots now?"

"This one is different. They believe he has information about the Resistenza."

Vargas again looked confused. "How could he possibly..."

Ludwig interrupted quickly. "His name is Lieutenant Alfred Jones."

Vargas broke off and sat back silently. He shifted nervously, rubbing a hand across his chin. He appeared to be thinking, then just shook his head, his expression puzzled. "Lieutenant Jones… yes, I remember. But no, there was nothing we said… no, this is ridiculous, we simply drank with him. What can they possibly think he knows?"

"Is it not enough that he knows where to find your faction of the resistance?"

Ludwig could see Vargas understand. The man almost turned white, but then shook his head again stubbornly. "But our village is no longer occupied by the Germans. There is no way they can reach us there."

"Signore, it is now the primary focus of both the SS and the Gestapo to root out factions of the Resistenza in this country. To think they can not reach you because your village is close to an American base is nothing but willful ignorance."

Vargas ran his hand over his forehead, looked away then down, breathed out heavily. "He is an honourable man. He will not..."

"Talk? Signore, honourable or not, after several days with the Gestapo, he will be screaming every single thing they ask and more. The SS have had him for days now, and I believe he has said nothing. But he is badly injured from the crash. Once the Gestapo get to him…" Ludwig broke off. "I have seen him. It will not be long before he breaks. I know what the Resistenza does. I know you can get allied combatants out of this country. You can get him to London, to a hospital."

Vargas leant back in his chair and gazed across at Ludwig intently. Ludwig started to feel uncomfortable, the silence between them filled with the noisy and oblivious chatter of the crowd around them. "I know you want to know about my grandson, German," said Vargas finally, the words shooting through Ludwig's nerves and veins. "But that's not all this is, is it? After all, you had no way of knowing it would be I who would meet you today. So, tell me. Why are you telling me this? Why are you going to such lengths to try and hand this American over to us?"

Ludwig returned Vargas' intense stare. It was as though the Italian was trying to break Ludwig down with his eyes. It would not work. "I believe in repaying my debts," said Ludwig evenly. "I owe this man."

"What can you possibly owe an American pilot?" As soon as the words left his mouth, Vargas' eyes flashed and his lips twisted. A sudden rush of understanding lit his face. "He is the one who told Feliciano where you were being held." Ludwig just nodded. "Yes. The afternoon he came to the cantina, he spoke to Feliciano… he must have known, somehow…"

"He shot me down," Ludwig explained. There was no point hiding any part of this strange, incredible story now. "Lieutenant Jones shot me down, captured me, and saw a photograph I had of Feliciano. That is how he knew we were…" Ludwig stopped and wondered how to phrase this. "…how he knew Feliciano and I knew each other. And how he knew where I was being held."

"So he is responsible for what happened too." Ludwig could see Vargas growing angry. "So why would I..."

"Signore, you must understand. He knows who you are. He knows your names. You, Lovino. Feliciano." Ludwig shrugged and spread his hands. "He knows where you live. And I do not know what else you spoke of with him, but…"

Vargas closed his eyes, his forehead furrowing painfully. "He can not stay in the hands of the Gestapo."

Ludwig almost sighed in relief. "No."

Vargas opened his eyes and fixed Ludwig with a piercing stare. He spoke simply and steadily. "I detest traitors." Ludwig's stomach churned at the word. If there was one thing he could always rely on, one thing he would live and die for, it was his loyalty to his country. To be considered a traitor was worse than death. And yet –

"I used to see everything in black and white as well." Ludwig felt the smallest smile on his lips, unable to stop it. "Then I met Feliciano."

Vargas placed his hands on the table. The sound of the world outside them faded, the sunny light seemed to darken, and Vargas tilted his head just slightly as those dark eyes so like Feliciano's bore into Ludwig's soul. "You love my grandson, don't you, German."

Ludwig responded with every ounce of certainty in his possession. "Signore. I used to live and breathe for my country. Now, I do it for him."

Vargas stared for a moment more before standing. Ludwig followed, a little surprised at this sudden termination. Vargas reached into his jacket then handed Ludwig an envelope. "We will meet you at these coordinates, tomorrow night, at exactly 0200 hours. Bring this American pilot. And pray he has not been made to talk." Vargas turned to leave. He was leaving; leaving, and Ludwig had not been told; leaving, and Ludwig still did not know…

"Wait, no!" Ludwig cried out before he even thought of saying the words. "Signore, please."

Vargas stopped, his hands clenched, his shoulders rigid. He did not turn. "He is alive." The world turned briefly black as Ludwig's blood rushed through his head. He felt his knees weaken and had to grasp onto the back of a chair to stay standing. "He was unconscious for days. He called your name the entire time. But he is alive, and doing well, and should make a complete recovery."

Ludwig's chest lightened, soared, and he actually laughed briefly, almost unable to bear the exhaling sensation of relief. Feliciano was alive. Life had meaning again; the world had purpose. Now everything would be all right. Ludwig put a hand to his mouth, had to restrain himself from crying out or falling down or breaking into ridiculous hysterics. He just breathed calmly and nodded, his eyes focused firmly on the ground to control the rising tears of release. "Thank you."

"Ludwig." Ludwig blinked in surprise at the use of his name, then looked up to see that Vargas was staring back at him, his expression stern, yet his eyes somehow sad. "Even when this war ends, you do realise. There is no way for you and Feliciano to be together."

Ludwig dropped his hand and clenched his fingers around the envelope, then drew himself to his full height and turned away. He refused to even acknowledge Vargas' words. "Tomorrow night, Signor Vargas."

This time, Ludwig brought two stolen SS jackets with him. He marched again down the central corridor of the SS building, turned into the side hall, and made his way to the same room he had broken into a few nights earlier. He did not stop, did not think. The building was again almost empty in the silence of midnight. When he reached the door, Ludwig slammed the new lock, again breaking it easily, and threw open the door. The smell of blood struck him violently. "Jones." Ludwig rushed over to the bed, and immediately recoiled in sickening dismay.

Jones was not good – not good at all. The pale moonlight through the window illuminated the red stained sheets, Jones' face paper white but for the deep, black bruises beneath his eyes and the drops of blood that beaded his hairline. His bare chest was covered in fresh scars, the skin red and raised and bloody where it had obviously been recently gouged. It barely rose with his shallow, irregular breaths.

"Jones," whispered Ludwig again, softly, trying to keep his voice steady. There was no response. "Lieutenant. Alfred."

"I told you," Jones replied finally, whispering the words under his breath. "I don't… told you… don't know what you want…" Ludwig closed his eyes briefly and sighed. He had not been fast enough. Jones must have finally been interrogated by the Gestapo. The hand that lay on his stomach was missing two fingers and covered in a bloody bandage. Ludwig's stomach churned. He had heard stories that the Gestapo kept fingers as trophies. He had never wanted to believe it. Ludwig reached out and hesitantly touched Jones' shoulder.

"Jones…" He was interrupted as Jones suddenly thrashed and screamed.

"I DON'T KNOW!" Ludwig jolted, then grasped Jones' shoulders to restrain him, but that just brought another scream from Jones' lips. Ludwig immediately snatched his hands back. Of course, where Jones' jacket had been burnt through… he must have been burned in the crash. The skin was completely burnt away, bloody across his shoulder and down across his chest. Ludwig wondered how he had survived so long with such a wound and no proper treatment.

"I am sorry, but please, you must be quiet. You are coming with me."

Jones' eyes were wild and blood red as they darted frantically. He could obviously barely see anything. "Name, Alfred Jones. Rank… I mean… name, Alfred…"

Ludwig looked anxiously towards the door, worried that Jones' harsh shouting would be easily heard down the hall. "No, ssh, Alfred, it's me. Lieutenant Beil - Ludwig. Feliciano's friend. I am getting you out of here."

Jones started to calm, his breath still fast and frenzied. Sweat mixed with the blood in his hair and ran in red rivulets down his pale face. "Ludwig?" He sounded half insensible.

"Yes," said Ludwig. He grasped Jones' arm and pulled him upright on the bed. "Listen. I know you are in pain. But you have to stay quiet. I'm going to put this jacket on you. I am sorry, it is going to hurt." Ludwig threw the SS jacket over Jones' shoulders, and Jones winced and bit back a shaky hiss. Ludwig did not pause, just pulled Jones to his feet and dragged him insistently towards the door. Jones slumped immediately in his arms. "I am sorry," said Ludwig again, forcing Jones to stand. "Once we are out of the base I will carry you. But you must force yourself to walk out of this building." Jones nodded, and Ludwig could see that he was bewildered. But they had no time for explanations, no time to talk through this. They just had to get out. Ludwig knew the SS jackets would probably do nothing if they were seen, and he knew he had no plan for what he was doing. Standing in the door to the corridor, Ludwig took a deep breath and felt himself fall into the determined and accepting headspace he knew so well from hours of aerial combat. "Are you a religious man, Jones?" he asked impulsively.

"Don't know anymore," Jones mumbled in reply. Ludwig nodded.

"Well, I'm going to go ahead and pray for both of us. Keep moving."

Ludwig had no reason to believe they would not be caught. But all he could do was trust to chance, let go of his control, and half carry, half drag Jones out of the SS building. They passed no one on their way through the corridors. Ludwig kicked open the locked back door and dragged Jones insistently from the building, through the dark, silent shadows of the sleeping base, past empty trucks and poorly manned fences. Jones' breathed heavily as he leant against Ludwig, occasionally gasping or hissing in pain. Ludwig tried to hold him as upright as possible. He avoided the main entrance, instead leading Jones to the east side of the base, cutting through another unarmed fence and out onto the wide, country road.

Once outside the base, Ludwig lifted Jones onto his back, taking care to put the pressure on his unburnt side, and set off immediately down the long road. "Good work, Jones," he said breathlessly, wiping the sweat from his brow, feeling his blood thrum vibrantly beneath his skin, shoot tingling down his spine.

"German bases… terrible security… no wonder we're winning the war."

Ludwig could not be sure he had understood that correctly, though he felt massively reassured to hear it. "I could say the same about yours, you know." Ludwig did not bother to marvel at how they had made it out unhindered. Right now, he was at the stage of just taking everything as it came, and there was no need to fear, and no need to worry, because the only thing he could control was how far he could walk with this man on his back. There was perhaps a two hour walk ahead, depending how fast Ludwig could keep his speed up. Jones' head rested on Ludwig's shoulder, his arms clasped in Ludwig's hands. Ludwig took care not to apply too much pressure so close to the open wounds of Jones' mutilated fingers. "Nearly there, Jones. I'm taking you to the Italian resistance. They'll get you out of here. You're going home."

"Home," said Jones quietly. "Arthur…" He sighed softly, sounded like he was drifting. Ludwig knew he had to keep the American awake until he got to proper medical care. If he passed out with those injuries, there was too great a chance he would not wake up again.

"Who is Arthur?"

"Arthur is everything."

Ludwig raised an eyebrow. Well, who'd have thought. He had something in common with this American after all. "Tell me about Arthur."

"He can't play baseball. And he swears too much. And drinks too much. But he's perfect… and he doesn't know it…" Jones again started to drift, his words coming slower and softer.

"And?" Ludwig prompted. "Jones? What does Arthur look like?"

Jones coughed faintly. He was shaking, and his skin was so hot to Ludwig's touch. "His eyes are green. Like… like something green."

"Like fresh grass," Ludwig supplied. "Or wide fields in winter. Or the leaves of an oak tree."

"Or sapphires."

"Sapphires are blue."

"Oh."

"Emeralds are green, though. As green as emeralds."

"Yes," said Jones faintly, his voice fading again. "Emeralds with bloody big eyebrows."

Ludwig shook him slightly. "And what else?"

Jones sighed again. "And I love him."

"So just stay awake, Jones, and soon you will see him." The night was warm around them, the weather quickly warming up to summer. The bright moon overhead shone soft light onto the close trees on either side of the deserted road, and Ludwig felt strangely calm and peaceful walking down this tranquil Italian country road with an enemy on his back.

"Ludwig."

"Yes?"

"You are a good man."

"So are you, Alfred." Silence. "Alfred, stay awake. Tell me…" Ludwig felt at a bit of a loss suddenly. How was one supposed to speak to an American? "Tell me about something you like."

"I like Arthur."

"Yes, I gathered that. Anything else?"

"I like frogs."

Ludwig paused a moment. Of all things… "Frogs. Really?" Jones was probably still half delirious.

"Yes."

"Hmm." Very well, frogs, Ludwig could talk about frogs if he damn well had to. "Do you know that there is a species of frog in Africa that grows to over thirty centimetres long and weighs over four kilograms?"

"How the hell big is that?

Ludwig snorted. Americans and their outdated measuring systems. "Fifteen inches, nine pounds." There was another silence and Ludwig started to worry Jones had lost consciousness. "Alfred?"

"That is one big fucking frog.'

Ludwig almost laughed. "And do you know, there is a small frog, in South America I believe, whose skin is covered in enough poison to kill two thousand people, can you imagine…" Ludwig stopped abruptly. Oh Lord, he was starting to talk like Feliciano.

"Huh. Hey, instead of bombs, we could fill our B-17s with those frogs and drop them over Berlin." Jones let out a small snort. "Shit, sorry."

All right, time to change the subject. What else did Americans speak about… sport, probably. "So, Arthur can not play baseball. Are you a fan of baseball?"

"More sense than cricket. You ever played cricket?"

"No. I always preferred soccer."

"Soccer, huh. Soccer's just baseball without the bat."

This time Ludwig actually did laugh, to his deep surprise. "I don't think so, somehow."

Ludwig continued to try and keep Jones awake. There were short periods of silence, but then Ludwig would fear Jones had fallen asleep and he would again start prodding him with questions. Ludwig had not spoken so much since Feliciano. Jones was obviously in incredible pain, with a high fever, yet Ludwig was impressed at his composure and coherence in such a situation. He found himself wondering vaguely whether or not they might have been friends in other, kinder circumstances. The hours passed peacefully, and just when they were nearing the contact point, Ludwig could not stop himself from asking.

"Jones." Silence. "Alfred."

"Hmm?"

"You spoke with Feliciano."

"Yeah."

The dark sky was bright with a thousand stars, the little country road silent in the still, early hours – just like that last night with Feliciano. But now Ludwig knew Feliciano was alive. Whatever happened to Ludwig himself, he could accept it, because Feliciano was all right. "And… and what did you speak of? With Feliciano?"

Alfred laughed shortly, weakly, just a slight exhalation of breath. "So happy, so friendly. He gave me an apple." Alfred was drifting again, Ludwig could hear it. "Funny boy, really. Only not a boy. He's my age. I was surprised…"

"It seems like that, at first. But he's so much smarter than you think. He is just honest, and simple, which is not the same as stupid. He does not get caught in all these stupid ideas, in the politics of a world where hate controls so many lives..." Ludwig broke off, tried to think of a way to describe Feliciano's beautiful outlook on life. Then he remembered and laughed suddenly, an unstoppable burst of light in the darkness. "Alfred, wouldn't it be wonderful if instead of all this fighting we could just play soccer?"

"Yeah," agreed Alfred weakly. "Or baseball. Just…"

"…Just not cricket," Ludwig finished.

A pool of light appeared in the short distance and Ludwig sped up towards it, sweat falling from his brow, his back and legs starting to feel the effects of carrying a full grown man on his back for hours. The light came from a dark truck, and as Ludwig drew closer he could make out men standing beside it. "We're nearly there, Alfred," he said firmly. "Nearly there."

Lovino shot Ludwig a dark glare as they approached, but then nodded slightly and helped take Alfred from Ludwig's back. He helped the half conscious American into the back of the truck as Signor Vargas stood before Ludwig with an expression both surprised and impressed. "Thank you, Lieutenant. You have done a good thing tonight."

Ludwig nodded, breathless, the entire mad evening finally falling into place around him. He was not quite sure what he had done, or what the consequences would be. But he could only think of one thing to ask. "Feliciano. Tell me, please. How is Feliciano?"

As soon as he said the words, as soon as Vargas opened his mouth to answer, the deep, rumbling roar of a car engine came from the road behind them. Vargas' face turned white in the truck headlights, and sudden, impulsive response shot like a bullet through Ludwig's veins. "Go!" he shouted, backing away as Vargas' eyes shot between him and the distant, approaching headlights. "For God's sake, go!"

Vargas looked at Ludwig for a second more, his eyes narrow, almost appraising him, his chin raised in a strange, approving sort of gesture. But then Lovino's voice shouted from the truck - "Nonno!" - and Vargas was shaken from his split second reverie. He raced for the driver's seat, shouting as he went.

"Feliciano is doing well, German. You'd better survive for him. Or I will kill you."

Ludwig did not have time to ponder the strange words, just watching as the truck took off down the road, as the shiny, black car approached from behind. It screeched to a stop beside him, grey suited officers jumping immediately from the back seat, handcuffs already in hand. And then it hit him – just what he had done. Ludwig had betrayed his country. He felt the world turn slow and cloudy around him, watched the SS officers glide towards him in slow motion, watched his eyelashes move as he blinked. There was no fear, because fear had long ago given way to more painful emotions. There was no anger, because his limited anger had drained away. There was only acceptance, because right now there was nothing he could do, and he had no way to control this. Cold metal encircled his wrists and Ludwig heard his breath flow in his ears, watched his slow eyelashes blink before him. He tilted back his head and gazed at the clear, endless stars in the black sky overhead. He only ever wanted to do his duty. Only wanted to fight for his country. How had it come to this? And how could he not bring himself to regret it?

"Lieutenant Ludwig Beilschmidt. You are under arrest for treason."

Next Chapter

Disclaimer: This story belongs to George deValier. Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya. I own nothing.

#Auf Wiedersehen Sweetheart chapter 14

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bbclesmis · 6 years

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In the Director’s Chair: Tom Shankland on learning from actors & unhealthy obsessions with Roman emperors

The latest director to answer The Drum’s questions in our Director’s Chair series is Tom Shankland, who is represented by Great Guns for branded content. Having worked on TV shows such as Les Misérables and House of Cards, Shankland talks to the Drum about being inspired by actors and why the original Tango ad is still the best ad.

Previously in the series, The Drum has quizzed Matías Moltrasio, Jamie Jay Johnson, Emmanuel Adjei, Henry Busby, Andrew Lang, Camille Marotte, Mea Dols de Jong, Klaus Obermeyer, Eli Roth, Mate Steinforth, Pamela Romanowsky, Traktor and Doug Liman.

Who or what inspired you to be a director? (or who are your creative heroes and why?)

Once upon a time in Italy, my dad took me to an open-air screening of Spartacus. I can still hear the cries of 'Io sono Spartacus!' echoing around the night sky as bats flew across the screen. At the time, I probably had a very unhealthy obsession with very violent Roman emperors, so I'm blaming Stanley Kubrick, Kirk Douglas, Emperor Caligula and my dad for my (healthier?) obsession with the awesome, emotional, inspirational power of cinema.

Outside of work, what are you into?

If I'm not dreaming up shots or cursing budgets, I love being as childish as humanly possible with my kids, leaping around a soft-play area, racing around the kitchen with my one-and-a-half-year-old in the guise of a squeaky anime creature. I like cooking for friends and family, transcendental meditation, pouring over photography books, and anything at all with my girlfriend.

How would you describe your style of commercial/film making? What are you known for?

My directing heroes like Billy Wilder or Howard Hawks seemed to make musicals one month, film noirs the next, and a classic Western just after that. I like to push myself towards genres I haven't tried before. It was great to venture into the Marvel universe for the pilot of The Punisher, come up for air and then dive deep into Victor Hugo's 19th France with Les Misérables and all of the challenges of a classic literary adaptation and period drama.

I love working with actors and have been lucky to work with some of the best – Tom Hardy (WΔZ), Olivia Colman (Les Mis), Robin Wright (House of Cards), Dominic West (Les Mis), David Oyelowo (Les Mis) and many others. As a director, I've learned so much from listening to the actors. A strong vision is essential but without collaboration, it can end up being imposing and dull. I always enjoy trying to squeeze every drop of emotional truth from a moment, however, heightened, bizarre, or seemingly implausible a scene might be.

Much that I love actors, I'm also a massive Alfred Hitchcock fan, who famously quipped that actors are cattle. Hitch was probably just being mischievous but I've always loved his 'Total Cinema'. A good script and good performances alone don’t make filmmaking. I'm always looking for ways to use every element of the medium to max out on tension and create visual metaphors. Whatever I'm doing, I want to keep the audience on the edge of their seats!

I approach commercials in exactly the same way. Of course, short-form is a very different discipline, but the ingredients are the same: framing, sound, performance, design, the rhythm of the storytelling. I find it fascinating because it’s like a beautiful miniature. You have to work so much more forensically but it is still about pictures, people, and story.

Have you got an idea about what sort of projects you’d like to work on or are you quite open-minded about what work comes your way?

I love to have adventures I haven't had before. If I'm reading something new, I like that little feeling of fear and excitement about stepping into a story or setting I haven't explored before. The protagonist or people have to grab me in some way. I don't have to love them, I just have to be fascinated by what makes them tick.

Increasingly, if it is drama, I like scripts that try to talk about the world we live in now. I wish I was drawn to escapist entertainment, but I always gravitate to pieces that feel like they might resonate with the audience's own experiences. The Marvel shows I've done might look like superhero fun on the surface, but Black Lives Matter and the tough times faced by war veterans haunt Luke Cage and The Punisher. I'm not automatically drawn to period pieces but there was so much in Andrew Davies' adaptation of Les Misérables that made me think of our current chaotic political situation and social injustices. I'm not interested in preachy soapbox stuff, but I like it when great entertainment also tries to be smart and thought-provoking.

What's your funniest moment on set?

I love shooting and I generally find that the darker the piece, the more entertaining the atmosphere is on set. I made a film called The Children where little kids turn on their parents in increasingly disturbing ways. I wanted it to be a smart chiller about parental anxieties and how people deal with aggression in their kids. Needless to say, everybody was very concerned about making sure the child actors weren't remotely disturbed by the material, so the crew and I went to great lengths to turn everything into a fun game. One of the children we worked with actually got in touch with me recently and sounded incredibly well-balanced.

The kids loved the experience - the adults were completely freaked out! I can still remember one six-year-old going up to her screen mum at lunchtime, pretending to jab a pen in her eye. Once she had learned that she was going to do this for a scene, she thought it was hilarious. At the end of the shoot, the children wanted to keep their blood-spattered costumes as a souvenir. They were incredibly sad when it all ended. Scary film – a wonderfully fun shoot!

What's your best piece of work?

I'm proud of everything that I've done where I felt the vision was at its purest. This isn't the same as thinking of something as 'my best work'. It’s such a good feeling when the gap between ambition and finished work feels narrow. I sometimes think that if I've shot my tone book, then I've succeeded - this is probably true for The Children, The Missing, and Les Misérables.

There were also episodes of House of Cards that I did where we created a dreamscape that fitted the overall tone of that show and that was very satisfying to pull off. Recently, I made a four-part TV series called The City and The City that involved an incredibly challenging concept: two over-lapping cities in which each population pretends they can't see the other citizens. I was very proud that we dug so deep on a very challenging budget to find the right visual language.

Which ad do you wish you'd made?

There are so many. I should probably nominate most ads by Jonathan Glazer for their beautiful, lyrical, filmic sensibility, but just for fun, I'm going to say the first Tango ad because I know Ben, the actor, who nailed that look! I love Ben's face and I found a little part of him in Les Miserables. 'You've been Hugo'd'!

How well does the information flow between client, agency and production company on a job?

In my experience, the flow of information between agency, producer and client on an ad shoot is very good (maybe too good at times! ). I have learned quite a lot from that process of having to be incredibly precise in PPMs about what the shooting plans are. In a drama, you tend to want to balance being clear with execs about the plan for the shoot, but also allowing space for those beautiful happy accidents. In general, I'm a fan of bringing everyone with you on a shoot rather than keeping them in the dark. Much that I love an auteur, it is a bit of a fantasy that directors achieve their vision entirely by themselves.

What's been the biggest change to the industry during your career?

The film, TV and advertising industries have all changed massively in the last ten years or so. I have to say (but maybe I'm biased) that a lot of the most creative storytelling seems to be happening on TV now. This will all change, but there seems to have been a big re-calibration of budgets and creative freedom across the mediums; in TV, artistic freedom and budgets seem to have gone up and vice versa in the film unless it involves a superhero.

Of course, everybody is watching content differently now. You only have to look at Great Guns’ (the guys that represent me for branded work) work to see how progressive and inventive that medium has become across so many disciplines and genres - from branded short films to documentaries to music videos. I love how these long-form ideas are taking hold in the world of advertising. It is a confusing but potentially creative time as the world adjusts to this big transition.

Have you worked on any client direct commercials (no agency involved)? What's been the difference?

I've never worked on a client direct project so 'no comment'!

https://www.thedrum.com/news/2019/02/11/the-director-s-chair-tom-shankland-learning-actors-unhealthy-obsessions-with-roman

#les mis bbc #bbc les mis #articles #tom shankland #Interviews

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findmyrupertfriend · 6 years

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Strange Angel - “The Sacrificial Dance” (This is a recap/review of the tenth episode of Strange Angel. There are spoilers, so proceed with caution! Catch up on the rest here.)

A film reel starts a countdown with scenes from the previous nine episodes:

#10 - That gorgeous, erotic scene of Jack lighting Ernest’s fire...uh, I mean lighter.

#9 - Jack gets a blow job while Ernest watches and becomes aroused.

#8 - Cassandra is grinding on her throne during Jack and Susan’s first visit to the lodge.

#7 - Alfred heals an initially reluctant Susan.

#6 - Jack learns Marisol is at the book reading to work on Richard’s confidence.

#5 - Susan has a breakthrough on Alfred’s ritual table.

#4 - Richard professes his love to Marisol, while she comes clean about how they met.

#3 - Ernest takes a bite out of Jack. When Jack learns he is part of Ernest’s “workings,” he tells him to “stay the fuck away from me.”

#2 - Jack tries to burn the Thelema Book of Law.

#1 - Jack meets the Great Beast on his burning roof.

The first scene begins with Aleister Crowley shooting up heroin at his desk, surrounded by candles and a burning fire. I guess he’s feeling inspired because he writes a letter to Jack.

Next, Jack quits his job at the Pueblo Powder Company by burning his timecard and tossing it into a trashcan.

And finally, FINALLY...Susan gets some satisfaction! There’s a small glimpse of the silhouette of her breast as she’s on top, riding Jack. Now, don’t get me wrong...it’s not like they were having uninhibited and passionate sex, but it was a definite improvement from their usual fucking.

The next scene gives us ERNEST ON A MOTORCYCLE!!! He’s racing another person across vast concrete underneath a railroad truss bridge. It’s a lovely head-on shot of them both, racing side by side. The other guy gains on Ernest, but Ernest hits it into high gear and leaves him in the dust.

Meanwhile, Jack is back at work in the desert. His face, chest, and arms are full of asphalt burning off of his rocket demonstration, that is aimed straight at him.

Richard and the rest of the team drive up. While everyone else is anxious to see Jack’s latest solution, Richard marches forward and punches Jack hard. Richard is angry that Jack knew about Marisol and didn’t tell him. Well, Richard, Jack did try to tell you, but you didn’t want to listen…and Jack does have a point. Whatever Marisol did - it worked. Richard had impressed the powers that be enough to receive approval and funding for his proposal.

The rest of the team could care less about their argument. They’re too excited about Jack’s idea to use asphalt as fuel. Jack tries to explain how the idea came to him, but he stops short of telling them about the Great Beast. (I have to pause here for a moment to say that Jack’s blue eyes look SO BLUE with asphalt blown all over his face.)

Richard smells a rat. There must be a catch to Jack calling them out there and offering the solution wrapped up in a nice, neat bow. But Jack insists he doesn’t want back on the team...or does he?

Jack meets with Alfred in his office, and it’s clear there was a strategy in place.

Jack: “I felt like a goddamn jackass, giving it away.”

Alred: “Your colleague needs to be convinced he needs you, and the only person he’ll be convinced by is himself.”

Alfred exhorts Jack to stay focused on his intentions, but Jack has doubts about anyone and anything not part of Thelema, such as Richard and the military. Alfred notes that Jack no longer has to include Susan in the list of doubters. Jack tries to glean more insight into Susan’s journey with Thelema, but Alfred maintains strict confidentiality. I dare say Alfred enjoys it, too.

Their exchange is interrupted by a knock on the door. Ernest comes bearing the letter from Aleister Crowley. When he announces it is not for Alfred, but for Jack, he hands it over to Jack almost begrudgingly. Ernest won’t even look at or face Jack. He just stands facing Alfred and to Jack’s left, extends his arm with the letter in his hand and looks away with a scowl. He’s still hurt and stung by Jack’s last words to him.

Susan is back to typing at work as Virgil hovers, dictating biblical verses to condemn those who are in his debt. He points out an error to Susan, who dutifully corrects it.

Virgil: “In Romans 13, verse eight, ‘Owe no man any thing, but to love one another: for he that loves another hath fulfilled the law…”

At this, Susan’s typing slows, and Virgil takes note. Susan requests the last part read back to her. Virgil pulls Susan’s chin around to face him and asks what is wrong with her. It’s a gross and condescending action to take on a grown woman. It’s also pretty intimidating, considering Susan is seated while Virgil looms and towers over her, spouting his religious piety. Susan sees her face as a young girl, with the orange in her mouth. She flees to the bathroom and vomits, but even there she still can not have peace. Virgil knocks on the door while Susan looks in the mirror and sees the vision again. Virgil demands to know what is wrong, but Susan puts him off with a slight smile, saying she feels much better now.

At dinner, Jack informs Susan about Aleister Crowley’s letter inviting him to “ascend to the next degree.” This brings up a discussion of Thelema. Susan hasn’t taken part of “the workings,” just the private purge sessions. Susan questions why it’s important to Jack.

Jack: “I want this to be something we share together, with no more misunderstandings, or secrets between us.”

Richard and his team demonstrate their latest proposal, complete with Jack’s asphalt solution, to a pilot who will man the airplane during the official demonstration. The airplane is outfitted with rocket motors to increase acceleration and decrease the length of runway necessary for takeoff. The pilot presses the team on the viability and potential success of the solution, so they show him.

At first, the test looks successful, until it doesn’t. There’s an explosion, as usual, and one of the rockets breaks off and smashes a hole through the aircraft canopy. The pilot storms off, and he’s no longer willing to take a chance on Richard’s proposal.

Susan pays Alfred a visit and sees Ernest outside mowing the lawn. It seems he’s been living with Alfred after he moved out of the Parsons’ neighborhood. Susan tries to talk to him, but Ernest just ignores her. She finds Alfred sunning shirtless on the porch, a book in one hand, and a beverage in the other.

Alfred: “Care to join me for a tipple?” (glancing at Ernest) “Or perhaps we could have a short stroll.”

Alfred, ever the grand manipulator, notices Susan’s careful approach and Ernest’s watchful eyes. He adjusts his seduction methods quite nicely.

They stroll along, Alfred barefoot with his shirt fully open, and Susan dressed in hat, gloves, dress, and heels. They discuss Jack’s invitation to ascend.

Susan: “Well, Jack isn’t going to accept the invitation. Not unless I…”

Alfred: “Not unless you what?”

Susan: “He wants Thelema to be something we can share fully.”

Alfred: “And what do you want?”

Susan looks at Alfred sharply.

Alfred: “Workings are not to be undertaken lightly or against your will.”

Susan gives a mild eye roll.

Susan: “Workings. Ascension. For people so devoted to uncovering the truth, why not call it by its actual name?”

Alfred: “What words would you prefer I use?” (loudly) “Sodomy? Fornication? Sin?”

The harsh words are framed by a man outside watering his lawn in the background. This does not deter Alfred. He becomes more vehement in his conversation with Susan.

Alfred: “Because these words do not describe what we do. They are words used by those who seek to limit and control. Words…” (pause) “...you have learned to speak in the confessional.”

Susan: (shaking her head) “It’s not the words, it’s the behavior.”

Alfred: “You’re right. It is the act, not the label. It’s a method to know oneself, and by doing so, to know God.”

Susan stops in her tracks.

Susan: “You believe in God?”

Alfred: “Not just God, but the Goddess. Nuit, the great mother, the source of all things. Her power is within you, waiting to be unleashed. You are on the precipice, but until you confront the source of your shame...you will remain a prisoner of it.”

This was actually a very open and free dialogue. You can see Susan’s mind opening further and further. At the very least, she knows Alfred’s last statement is true. She will never be free until she confronts what happened in the orange grove.

Richard goes to the movies and watches dejectedly as a couple near him kisses. However, he is soon engrossed in the movie, as it is about the Royal Air Force bombing raid against the Nazis on the German island of Sylt. Richard’s wheels are turning…

Susan is leaving to attend mass on Easter Sunday, and Jack questions why, since they both practice Thelema now. However, Susan hasn’t quite fully converted..yet. As Susan walks out the door, they meet their new neighbors. Let’s just say they are definitely no Ernest and Maggie! They show Jack and Susan a metal box that Ernest left behind. It’s black with some brown trim. It’s scuffed up and scratched with the Thelema symbol (Star of Babylon) and a 93 on the top of the box. The couple looks more than a little concerned that the Parsons’ know where to find its owner.

Jack takes the box inside and explores the contents: a bottle of straight whiskey, a black and white photo of Aleister Crowley, a flask, and the black and white photo Maggie left behind for Ernest of the two of them in front of an airplane.

The phone rings, and it’s Richard calling to tell Jack what he’s been waiting to hear: he needs Jack’s help. Later, in person, Richard confides to Jack that he was ready to give up, but something spurred him on - the war. He finally realizes the war with Germany is so much more important than the grudge between the two of them. They could do something that actually matters if they work together.

Their newfound truce is quickly put to the test when Jack has a ready solution to the problem Richard and his team experienced during their most recent test. Richard deduces that Jack knew the solution all along but conveniently did not share it. However, now that Jack has shared this critical piece of information, it’s clear he now wants back on the team. Only trouble is - they no longer have a test pilot.

But, of course, Jack knows someone - Ernest! Jack finds Ernest at the lodge. He’s up on a ladder inside the room where the rituals are conducted, repairing the wooden ceiling. Ernest gives Jack a cool reception at first.

Jack: “Hey.”

Ernest turns around quickly to see who called his name.

Jack: “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

Ernest: (returning to his work) “What are you doing here?”

Jack: “I came to give you back this. I know why you left it behind.”

Ernest stops for a moment to look at Jack disinterestedly, but then resumes his work.

Jack: “Look, your declaration, or whatever it was...caught me off guard.”

Ernest stops and turns back to Jack, slightly apologetic.

Ernest: “I was just trying to get a rise out of you.”

Jack: “You were right. You are the only one who’s gotten me closer to what I want.”

Ernest breaks through the ceiling, pulling down rotten wood. A beam of light from outside shines across his eyes as he stares hard at Jack.

Ernest: (brusquely) “That all?”

Ernest climbs down the ladder, looking sweaty and full of broad, broad shoulders. I think the grandpa pants hiked up the way they are accentuate this lovely feature.

Jack: “It’s a lot.”

Ernest: “No. Is that all you came here for?”

Ernest continues working, measuring out a piece of fresh wood to replace the rotted one.

Jack: “Your prophecy came true. I did see the Great Beast, and exactly like you said, he showed me my true path.”

Ernest begins sawing, working those shoulders nicely. His mouth twists during the conversation as if he’s fighting himself to keep his words terse and brief.

Jack: “But I can’t walk it alone. We have a demonstration tomorrow for the military.”

Ernest: “Bully for you.”

Jack: “The thing is, the team can’t do it without me, and I can’t do it without you.”

Ernest continues sawing away, one large hand gripping that fresh piece of wood so firmly...I love how this show is able to use some of Rupert’s natural talents in the story.

Since Ernest still ain’t biting, Jack comes around from behind Ernest to stand in front of him.

Jack: “I don’t know what to label it. Elemental opposite. Friend. Compatriot. All I know is that love is the law, whatever form it takes. And you have to heed it.”

Ernest stops working abruptly and looks up from his saw angrily.

Ernest: “What do you want from me?”

Jack: “If the test is successful, the military is offering us over $100,000 in funding.”

Ernest: (slowly and firmly) “What do you want?”

Jack: “Imagine the possibilities.”

Ernest gives a small exhale. Jack still is not saying what Ernest wants to know: who and what is he to Jack?

Jack: “With that kind of money, everything would change. For me, for you, for the Agape.”

Ernest: (quickly) “Maybe I’m done helping you.”

After saying this, Ernest looks down, shifting his feet. Jack cranks up the charm.

Jack: “That’d be a shame.”

Jack steps closer to Ernest, and you can literally feel Ernest’s pulse quicken. He’s looking at Jack warily because he knows what’s going on. He knows Jack needs him, but how much more does Ernest want to be hurt by Jack?

Jack: (quoting) “The true magick of Horus requires the passionate union of opposites.”

Jack takes Ernest’s left hand in his left hand and places his right hand on Ernest’s upper arm.

Jack and Ernest look into each other’s eyes, and this is where Ernest softens. He gives himself away to Jack, love under will.

Ernest: (quietly) “What do you need me to do?”

Jack just continues gazing at Ernest with those blue, blue eyes. Hell, I might give myself over, too...to the both of them!!

Susan is singing in the choir at mass, but she imagines oranges in everyone’s mouths. That kinda spoils her desire to sing, and she just frowns, blinking, and looking at her family sitting amongst the congregation.

As usual, she is at her family’s home for a meal after mass. However, this time she pauses in her old bedroom to look at herself in a floor mirror. This triggers more memories from the day in the orange orchard.

Virgil: (angrily) “You shall not eat of the fruit!”

Susan: (crying) “Daddy, I wasn’t!”

The flashback shows Virgil’s hand grabbing Susan’s arm, with Susan gripping his arm.

Virgil: “I don’t want to hear your excuses.”

Virgil’s hands tear open a bright-colored orange, while the rest of the scene is displayed in black and white. The juices spill and squirt all over his hands.

Virgil: “You wish to taste it, then fill your damn mouth with it.”

The scene flashes between young Susan and the older Susan, standing in her parent’s home.

Virgil: “See what you’ve become?”

Susan sees her younger self in the mirror. She has an orange shoved into her mouth, and Virgil is behind her, gripping her shoulders roughly.

Virgil: “I’m going to teach you about shame.”

Patty knocks on the door to call Susan down for dinner.

Jack pays his mother a visit, but it’s not what she thinks. Jack explains he and Susan are very happy together, and he has great news about the presentation. He promises his mother an improved position in life, and mommy dearest is full of beaming pride.

Back at the Easter dinner table, Susan looks like she is ready to vomit. Everyone is jovial, including their special guest, the parish priest. During the prayer before the meal, I thought Susan might break down crying. Virgil decides it’s the perfect time, in one fell swoop, to insult Jack and smugly insinuate Susan is pregnant.

First, it’s beyond gross the man would think he knows remotely anything about his stepdaughter’s maternal status, much less has the right to make any such announcement. I wanted to spit nails, and then the mother, ever full of patriarchal bullshit, quips “perhaps it’ll be a boy,” cause we all know girls just ain’t worth a fuck, right?

Susan: (shaking her head) “But I’m not…”

Virgil: (smiling) “You’re not…?”

Susan: “What do you think I am?”

Virgil: (smile still plastered) “What do you mean?”

Susan: “I mean, I’m not expecting.”

Virgil’s smile starts to drain away, but he quickly recovers. He will not be wrong. He cannot be wrong. He stares at Susan briefly, then looks away, clearly dismissing the idea that Susan would have any idea what is going on in her own goddamned body.

Virgil: “Uh, well…’course you are.”

Patty cannot contain herself. She starts giggling, much to Virgil’s anger. His smile stops cold.

Virgil: “Stop it Patty.”

Patty: (laughing) “Oh, the look on your faces.”

Everyone looks very uncomfortable.

Virgil: “I said, stop it.”

But Patty keeps laughing and won’t stop.

Virgil: (getting up) “All right, well, if you can’t behave yourself, then you will just have to spend the rest of the evening up in your room. No, come on.”

Virgil grabs Patty’s arm, just as he grabbed Susan’s a long time ago. He starts to drag her out of the chair, but Susan has had enough. Her face is screwed up tight in pain and anger.

Susan: “Let her go.”

Virgil: (incredulous) “What -- Excuse me?”

Susan: (shaking head) “I can’t...anymore.”

Patty looks at Susan in shock.

Virgil: “What the devil are you talking about?”

Susan: “You know.”

Virgil is losing his shit because he knows he is losing control and his “face” in front of their entire family and priest, no less.

Virgil: (yelling) “I...Have both of you conspired to humiliate me today?”

The priest and Mrs. Bryne look positively mortified.

Susan: (standing up) “Tell them.”

Virgil: “I don’t know what she’s talking about.”

Susan: (loudly) “I’m going to teach you about shame. I’m going to teach you about shame. I’m going to teach you about shame.”

Virgil: “This is my house, and I am not gonna stand here…”

Susan: (to her mother) “Why didn’t you ever say anything?” (pause) “And what about you, Father?”

If Mrs. Byrne and the priest looked mortified before, now they look like they could use the nearest rock to crawl under.

Susan: (angrily) “Did he confess his sins? And did you give him some prayers as penance, as if that could ever wash him clean?!”

The priest looks like he just got slapped in the face, and he did - verbally. Susan shakes her head and looks at Patty, who just turns her head and runs away crying.

Susan: “Patty?”

Everyone looks in shock at Susan’s outburst. I’m sure they are used to the quiet, demur Susan who always does as she is asked. But this is a different Susan now. She strides over to confront Virgil to his face.

Susan: “How could you do that to her? Your own flesh and blood?”

Virgil’s face flashes in anger, and he slaps Susan hard across the face. Susan immediately touches the stinging spot.

Virgil: “Shut your vile mouth!”

Virgil draws himself up indignantly, like only the best child-molesting hypocrites can when faced with their disgusting and evil actions. He must regain his power in this situation.

Virgil: “I will cut you off.” (nodding at Susan) “Do you understand? If you don’t apologize and take back what you said this instant!”

Susan removes her hand from her face and glares at Virgil. She’s done and leaves Virgil to scream after her.

Virgil: “You’ll lose your house! You’ll be put out on the street!”

Susan opens the door and walks outside, the orange orchard spread out in front of her.

At home, she soaks herself in a cold tub of water. Jack comes into the bathroom, concerned, and warms up the tub. Before he can even ask what is wrong, Susan lays it on him.

Susan: (blurting) “I’m ready. Anywhere it’s taking us, it’s better than where I’ve been.”

Jack responds by gently bathing Susan in silence.

In the desert that night, Jack, Richard, and the team are carefully mixing up a new batch of asphalt for the presentation. After working, they all fall asleep, except for Jack. He’s finishing the last one himself. He puts a cigarette in his mouth and reaches for his lighter. He stops, still lost in thought, and walks out of the tent to light it. While Jack looks at the airplane, his father appears, unimpressed.

Marvel: “Don’t let them do that to you, son.”

Jack: “Do what?”

Marvel: “Make you think the same way they do.”

Marvel holds up a red ball and whistles, calling the Great Beast. It barrels through Jack, laying him out flat on the ground. When he wakes up in the morning, still flat on his back, Ernest appears standing above him.

Jack: “You came?”

Ernest: (smiling) “I said I would.”

Ernest leans over to give Jack a hand. The camera angle is interesting here, because it stays above both of them, even as they are standing, before shifting to their faces.

Ernest: “What are you doing out here?”

Jack: “I saw the Great Beast again last night.” (pause) “He’s inside me.”

Ernest: (nodding) “I don’t doubt it.”

Jack is full of a quiet and fierce purpose now, more than he ever was. He wakes up the crew, who are surprised to see Ernest. When Jack explains Ernest’s presence, Ernest puffs his chest out like the proudest and most beautiful peacock you ever saw.

Richard doesn’t like the idea of Ernest flying the plane and speaks to Jack alone, while Jack cleans the asphalt off of him with water.

Richard: “This is taking it too far -- we can’t let him fly that plane.”

Jack: “Ernest is a grown man. Okay? He’s doing this of his own free will.”

Richard: “If today is anything like last time, he could get seriously hurt.”

Jack: “It won’t be. It won’t be.”

Richard: “How do you know?”

Jack: “I just know.”

Richard: “No. You don’t. How far are you willing to go?”

Jack: “Do you want to matter, or don’t you?”

Richard: “Yes, but…”

Jack: “No fuckin’ excuses.” (pause) “You want to know the real reason Marisol would never go for you? Because you don’t have any faith. Not even in yourself.”

Richard doesn’t have a response, because he knows Jack is right. He proceeds to wash off as well. At the same time, Susan is washing herself off in a basin at the lodge. Everyone is preparing for their own ritual.

Susan looks at herself in the mirror and removes her necklace, blouse, and bra. She continues staring at herself in the mirror until hands place a gown over her head and arms.

Joan: “Do you do this of your own true will?”

Susan turns and answers confidently, “I do.”

Joan: “Then let the rituals be performed with beauty and grace.”

Joan ties a knot around Susan’s waist and leads her by the hand.

Back in the desert, multiple cars arrive, greeting a smartly-dressed and clean-looking Jack. By contrast, Richard looks scruffy, which is interesting. Jack, full of confidence, guides everyone to their seats. Marisol arrives in a taxi, and Richard approaches her.

The scene flashes back to Susan, who is on her knees. Alfred stands in front of her, looking down at her as he speaks.

Alfred: “The chosen apostle of infinite space is the Beast and in his woman called the Scarlet Woman is all power given.”

Alfred reaches down and touches Susan’s forehead with his closed hand. She closes her eyes.

Alfred: “They shall bring the chosen into their fold. They shall bring the glory of the heavens into the hearts of men.”

Susan opens her eyes right before Joan covers them with a deep, gold sash, that she ties around her head. Alfred’s face is now inches from Susan’s.

Alfred: (intently) “Look within and open yourself.”

He takes Susan’s hand and leads her to the pussy pedestal, which sits on a round platform covered in red cloth. Okay - that’s the name I’m giving it. It’s a gorgeous bench with a red velvet seat and wooden arms on either side that curve lovingly outward and then down. I should love to have a pussy pedestal. You’ll soon see why!

The scene flashes back to Marisol and Richard. Marisol convinces Richard that it wasn’t all a lie. She found what she wanted in Richard, and she’s no longer apart of the Agape. Awwww…

Jack runs over to Ernest. Ernest stands straight up in the cockpit, looking spectacular in a camel-colored, beaten leather jacket, collar turned up like the cool guy he is. Jack is all business, giving instructions, but Ernest is surveying everything around him and stops Jack for a moment.

Ernest: (looking at Jack) “You taking it all in?” (Jack looks around.) “You’ve spent your whole life wanting this. The moment when your dreams could come true.”

Jack: (looking at Ernest) “It’s all thanks to you.”

Ernest: (shaking head) “I’m just a cog in the Great Work. Like the master says,” (loudly, arms outstretched and head angled up to the sky) “Worship me in blood and fire.”

Ernest: (sitting down in cockpit) “Be sort of fitting, don’t you think? Going down in flames for the sake of my elemental?”

Jack: “Are you just trying to get a rise out of me again?”

Ernest: (closing aircraft canopy partially) “Nope. Meant what I said, Jack.” (briefly pausing to look straight at Jack) “I’d do anything for you.”

(Fucking A -- this man’s ability to convey devotional, sacrificial love bleeds into his acting roles so authentically. Aimee Mullins is one fucking lucky lady.)

Jack: “Well, I’m not asking you to do that.”

Ernest: “Sure, Jack. You know what drew me to the Agape? It was this magical place where people let their guards down, trusted one another. God help us if anyone ever got in, tried to take advantage. Be like a wolf in a hen house.”

Jack: (confused) “I don’t understand what you’re saying. Are you...do you want to fly this plane or not?”

Ernest closes the last window on the aircraft canopy. You can see Jack is squatting on the wing of the airplane, so so close to Ernest’s face, the hole in the canopy allowing them to still hear each other. Richard whistles; it’s time to go.

Ernest: “Do or die time.”

Ernest starts the plane.

Jack: (panicking) “Tell me you’re not gonna do something crazy. Ernest!”

Jack jumps off the wing and leaves Ernest to it.

At the lodge, Susan sits on her pussy pedestal, while Joan chants and sprinkles a white, granular substance around her in a circle.

Alfred steps up on the platform and offers Susan a chalice.

Alfred: ��Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law.”

Susan drinks and swallows.

Alfred: “There is no law beyond do what thou wilt.”

Alfred’s voice plays over Patty walking up to Susan’s house with her suitcase. She finds a key outside and makes herself at home on the bed, bruises showing on her arms.

Joan ties Susan’s wrists to the wooden arms with a dark cloth.

Alfred: “Count down from the number 93. The value ascribed to love and will, the cornerstones of our faith.”

Susan sits up straight and counts down as instructed, as Alfred circles the platform (another lovely camera angle from above).

As Susan continues counting, the scene switches to the priest and Virgil. The priest recites “maleficium haereticum in nobis eradicandum” which google translated to “iii us root out crime.” (Possible meaning: Heresy is evil, but lives in all of us.) I was curious if Virgil was confessing, and the priest was offering some kind of absolution in Latin? Virgil looks like his usual pious, angry self, and the priest promises some kind of “reckoning” for the Agape after closing a letter with a seal. Wonder what the creeps have in mind?

Susan continues her countdown as Jack begins the presentation. At 20, she starts panting. Susan hasn’t quite got the hang of how to grind on the pussy pedestal, but she’s got some jerky rhythm going. At 10, Jack starts his countdown for Ernest to take off. Susan becomes more and more aroused as she gets closer to the number one, finally climaxing and looking up. At that moment, Ernest launches himself into the sky, and Jack looks up, watching Ernest soar higher. There’s a lovely shot of Ernest’s face amongst the clouds.

So far, it’s a success, and everyone cheers, hugging each other. Even Richard is happy! He shares a smile with Jack. Jack looks up and imagines a rocket taking off. Next, he sees Ernest is still in the sky. He hasn’t landed yet. Ernest turns the airplane around and guns the engine, heading straight towards the ground where Jack is standing. Ernest’s eyes look determined and wild, but Jack is standing his ground, a firm look in his eye as the airplane comes closer to him.

And...that’s it. They end it on a cliffhanger.

I don’t think Ernest will crash, because he’d have to kill Jack to do it. And I don’t think he wants to do that. Also, what did Ernest mean right before he took off? He thinks Jack is taking advantage of Thelema, of him, of his feelings for Jack? Does Ernest think Jack is somewhat of a poser, that his faith is not real or strong enough? I have questions, goddamn it! Season 2 better hurry the fuck up!

And Susan, oh Susan! I feel for her. What a terrible trauma to endure. No wonder she feels broken. I don’t think Patty moving in unannounced bodes well for anyone, but I hope Susan continues on a path of healing and truth - wherever it might lead.

#strange angel #the sacrificial dance #season 1 #strange angel recap review #by: laura #damn i need a pussy pedestal #ernest can not and will not die #why does rupert always have to show such undying loyal and affection for people who do not fucking deserve it #he does it really well though

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