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#hans landa imagines
unculturedswine-101 · 2 years
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Hans Landa fic rec Masterlist
Hey guys! I hope you are all doing well, sorry I’ve been inactive life has been so busy! Anyways linked below are my favourite Hans Landa fics (all are smut hehe). Please give them (and the writers) lots of love!
Writers from tumblr: @headoverhiddles @wingsy-keeper-of-songs
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https://headoverhiddles.tumblr.com/post/175296308943/verf%C3%BChrung-hans-landa-x-reader-smut
https://headoverhiddles.tumblr.com/post/180536307223/geheimnisse-hans-landa-x-reader-smut
https://headoverhiddles.tumblr.com/post/184253007799/meister-hans-landa-x-reader-smut
https://wingsy-keeper-of-songs.tumblr.com/post/171882546983/katzchen
https://archiveofourown.org/works/22798186/chapters/54482155
https://archiveofourown.org/works/22798186/chapters/76507031#workskin
https://archiveofourown.org/works/24481867
https://archiveofourown.org/works/23284915/chapters/55764865
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opinion on putting hans in a jar and shaking it around like a snowglobe
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one-boring-person · 2 years
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Hello, I hope you are having a great day :)
I saw that you're requests are open again so I'm sliding in to ask if you would write a scene about Hans Landa getting railed doggy style by an m!reader
Btw love your writing :3
Thank you so much! I hope you like this!😊💛
Crude Words.
Colonel Hans Landa (Inglourious Basterds) x m!reader
Warnings: NSFW, smut, dirty talk, swearing
Masterlist
Like my work? Buy me a coffee!😊
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Admittedly, I could've picked a better place for this. 
I can feel bruises already beginning to form on my knees, and the mewling colonel beneath me must be feeling the ache in his own legs now, but I can't find it in me to care, having pushed the man onto the floor some time ago now, off of the sofa that's placed beside us. He had complained, but a sharp slap to his ass has silenced that. 
I look over Hans as he sighs and arches his back, trying to grind back against me. Moments before, I had him pressed down onto the floor with my body flat against his, my still clothed crotch grinding hard against his bare ass, dragging sharp gasps of pleasure from him as his weeping cock rubbed against the cushion propped under his crotch. Landa's head is still twisted to the side, ready to receive the kisses and bites I laid on his neck, his lips parted from the pleasure, panting loudly with each mark I sucked onto his shoulder. In my grip, his hands clenched into fists, his ass lifting to arch into me. The man begged for me to do more, so here I obliged. 
Now, he writhes beneath me, pushing his ass back against my crotch, trying to get me to move. It sends lust straight through me to see such a self-important man looking so utterly pathetic. 
I smooth my hand over his ass, gripping it tightly to hear a moan of need from him. 
"Please, please just do something…fuck, I need it…" Hans whimpers, doubling his efforts.
"Such crude words from someone so eloquent." I mock him, running my finger between his cheeks, pressing against his tight hole, " What do you need, Colonel? Tell me clearly."
It sends a thrill through me, being so impertinent to a superior officer, knowing full well he could easily have me severely punished for speaking out of my place but won't. He seems to enjoy the thought, too - beneath him, his cock twitches, leaking onto the floor.
"I need your cock…" The colonel replies, apparently forgetting completely that he's the proud type.
"Is that right?" I tease him, spitting on his asshole, maneuvering the liquid round with my finger. He mewls in need, pushing against my hand.
"Yesss, please I need your cock inside me…" Hans moans out, clenching his fist in front of him where his arm is spread to keep him upright.
"You'll have to wait a minute or so for me to prepare you, Colonel. Wouldn't want to go in raw, now, would I?" I mock him once more, ramming my finger into his ass.
Immediately, he groans and clenches around the digit, sighs and pants of pleasure escaping him as I start to thrust my hand. I quickly add another finger to the mix, becoming inpatient as the man begins to get more and more desperate. My cock twitches in my briefs, eager to be pushed into the hot ass clenched around my fingers. After a minute or so, I oblige the ache in my groin.
Removing my hand, I say nothing to Hans as I pull my slacks and underwear down, spitting on my hand to lubricate my length before moving it to his tight hole. 
"Don't be too loud now, Colonel." I taunt before shoving my cock into him.
The response from both of us is instant. 
Our combined moans echo loudly around the room, my head falling back as I feel Hans' heat enveloping my cock, sucking me further into his body, squeezing me in all the right ways. I have to take a moment to adjust myself so I don't cum immediately, gripping the colonel's hips tightly as he pants beneath me. 
After a moment, I pull out, waiting for the needy whine before I ram myself straight back into him, setting a brutal pace. My lust is hot in my veins, every wild instinct taking over as I pound into the heavenly beat surrounding my cock, animalistic grunts escaping me with each thrust. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, almost loud enough to drown out Hans' cries of pure ecstasy. His back is arched, hands scrabbling at the floor, incoherent pleas and praises falling from his gaping lips, sweat beading all over his flawless skin.
I move one hand to his shoulder, using it for the extra leverage, thrusting harder into his quivering hole. Small bruises are already forming where my fingers were before, the promise of leaving more on his skin sending me into overdrive. My hips slam against the colonel's ass, the force beginning to push him down onto the floor properly. Every stroke of my cock inside him seems to be hitting his prostate, sharp cries mixing with his deeper moans of pleasure, spurring me on as I feel my climax starting to build. 
"Fuck…I need to cum…please, you feel so good…" Hans moans underneath me, trying and failing to push his hips back against mine.
"Yeah? You need to cum? Going to clench around my hard cock in your tight ass and shoot all over the floor without me even touching your pathetic little prick?" I snarl down at him, breathless myself as I drive into his ass. In all fairness, the thought has me threatening to spill.
"Yes! Please, please let me cum! Please!" His begging sends a jagged pulse of lust through me and I feel my cock twitch.
"Fuck, do it. Cum on my cock, you worthless whore." I don't realise what I've said until Hans has let out a frankly pornographic moan and cum all over the floor below him, his ass turning into a vice around me, encouraging me to spill inside him.
With a loud groan, I wrap my arms around his waist and finish deep inside him, shooting hot ropes of cum into the velvety hold of his ass. My head falls to Hans' back, my teeth finding the damp skin to keep myself quiet as I pull the man's ass tightly back against me, grunting at the feeling of his hole clenching and squeezing. The feeling of intense pleasure washes over me, leaving my mind blissfully blank.
"I'd rather not spend all day on the floor, Hauptsturmführer." Hans' voice brings me back to the present, the commanding, all-knowing tone back in his voice. 
It grounds me back in reality, my face going red as I realise that I still have my cock in his ass. 
"Sorry, Colonel." I apologise quickly, sitting back upright and slowly pulling myself out of him, trying to ignore my brief flush of desire as I see the cum dripping from his gaping hole. 
Standing, I pull my trousers back up, tucking myself away as I watch Hans climb to his feet, lazily pulling on his own uniform again, not looking at me. As he pieces himself together again, he finally turns around, a pleasant smile on his face.
"Thank you, Hauptsturmführer. Your service has been exemplary." He reaches out and pats my shoulder patronisingly, "You are dismissed." 
Nodding stiffly, I swallow and leave, fighting back the disappointment welling up inside me. 
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ptok · 8 months
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Hans Landa Cafeteria Dream part 2
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(before reading this, please read Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/ptok/726747001890488320/hans-landa-cafeteria-dream-part-1)
Then the spectator did not see but knew that Hans returned to the cafeteria and was maybe somewhere at the back of the building, in some corridor. The camera (or whatever it was) showed that there was another woman in the cafeteria room on the first floor. In comparison with the ‘waiting and wandering’ woman, this one was dark-haired, slimmer, and rather taller; she also had some vibe of the ‘emo’ style (she was an ideal personification of the popular ‘Wojak meme’ character).
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She was sitting at the table which was close to the fictionally removed wall, and the opposite chair has not been taken yet. Closer to the bar, the waiter was calmly standing and cleaning some plates. I supposed right away that the emo woman was also waiting for Hans, and I thought he had a date also with her, as the song might have suggested, but after a while I realized there is no evidence that she is also his date. All these thoughts of mine were connected with the fact that I started to sympathize with the blond-haired ‘impatient’ woman because, even if the ‘emo’ one has not been the date, the emo woman apparently had a fixed appointment with Hans, while the blond-haired woman in A-type skirt had not, despite her wishes.
Then, although as a spectator I only had a glimpse of Hans coming into the first-floor part of the cafeteria, I knew that the meeting between him and the emo woman has begun. Then the camera presented that the blond-haired woman was nervously, but still gently knocking on the cafeteria’s transparent (now real) door on the ground floor. No one was listening to her. All persons – the waiter, Hans Landa, and the emo woman – were on the first floor, in the cafeteria room. Then I realized what was the goal of the woman: she loved Hans but at the same time, for the sake of her dignity, she could not dare to present herself as so desperate by going straightforwardly to the first floor and making her appearance known to Hans during his other meeting (or even during his solitary cup of coffee or milk 🥛). ‘That might destroy everything!’ – I caught her thought. I saw that on the ground floor, just before the cafeteria’s entrance, the woman put her shoes off and ran into the building’s interior, then went up the carpeted stairs barefoot (yes, my mind made a strange reference to the shoe scene with Bridget). Then I slipped again into the movie universe. I was in the first floor’s corridor which was not visible from the front perspective. I saw the blond-haired woman reclining under the door to the cafeteria room, knocking gently at the lower part of the door, very close to the floor. Then my mind was like giving thumbs up to this woman: she was very clever, she managed to give some mysterious hint of her appearance by thought-provoking ghost-like knocking, while putting her elegant shoes off, and therefore lack of the heels’ sound, combined with the sneaking way of moving, did not allow Hans and others to think that there is someone behind the door, and that this is a woman on her heels, and that this is, finally, that specific woman. But I also started to fear whether she would manage to creep out from the first floor on time, before someone intrigued opens the door. Then the waiter, or even Hans himself, would see her in this non-elegant position, and the emo woman would for sure ridicule her. Another fear of mine was whether the shoes would still be waiting for her the way she left it before cafeteria’s entry. But I did not make to know answers to these questions as this thread of my dream has ended.
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the-acid-pear · 2 years
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Tarantino only has two movies about the story of segregated groups because i only have one dad and one uncle to hear them quote the villains of said movies textually as if anything they say was to be taken as truth
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stevebuscemi · 2 years
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imagine all the characters in the tarantinoverse battling it out i just know dr. king schultz would wreck hans landa’s shit up
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cozywriting · 2 years
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Hugo Stiglitz Imagines
Pairing: Hugo Stiglitz x reader
Warnings: Graphic death mention, blood cw
Requested by: Anonymous
Imagine if Hugo survived the fatality of Operation Kino. There was just one more Nazi left on his list and the Basterds’ happily obliged.
The sound of crunching leaves caused you, Aldo and Utivich to turn heads.
“Well, Goddamn’,” called out Aldo as he drank in the sight of a brooding, blood-stained Hugo Stiglitz.
“Hugo,” you whispered, shocked with relief that he was alive.
You rushed past the remaining Basterds over to him. Hugo allowed you to cup his face. It was covered in dirt, sweat and dark red droplets. Your finger grazed his cheek and he brought his hand against your own.
Hugo gazed achingly into your eyes. He felt the racing beat of his heart and rested his forehead against yours. He was unbelievably grateful that you were still in one piece.
Aldo and Utivich watched the couple silently. Hugo leaned away from you and caught the attention of the two soldiers.
“Where is he?” said Hugo gruffly.
Aldo and Utivich did not have to exchange looks to know exactly who Stiglitz was referring to.
“Sorry you missed ‘em. I reckon he’s on his sweet way to the Land o’ Free any minute now,” Aldo confirmed. “That is of course, if you have anything to do about it.”
“I mean, we did give him a nice parting gift to bring home to America,” Utivich replied.
“Got’a scalp outta that little driver of his, too,” Aldo added. “I’d say that’s a win.”
“Not yet. That Nazi’s mine,” Hugo gritted through his teeth.
Standing so closely, you felt the warmth of his body temperature rise. His eyes narrowed as he was staring at Aldo. Your hand pushed the other side of his face towards yours so he was looking at you again.
“You’re not thinking of— ” you started before Hugo cut you off.
“He can’t keep getting away with it,” He said, his voice firm and unwavering.
“Hugo, it’s dangerous. You just got back…”
His hand pulled your wrist away from his face.
“I have to be the one to kill him,” he said.
You matched his gaze and knew in your heart that this was the ultimate truth. Though, it had been the grief of thought— Hugo laying dead in the tavern, that was too unbearable for you to let him go so soon.
You thought of Hans Landa and his orchestrated deal to live an entire new life, his get out of jail free card, so to speak. The revelation sickened you.
“And you will,” Hugo heard you say confidently. His head turned to its side and he smiled at your words.
—— —— ——
Hugo sat on a stone ledge, sharpening his blade. You walked over and took a seat next to him, watching the way he maneuvered the blade’s edge back and forth. It was a comfort to know he’d let you sit so close, sometimes just to watch him. The two of you shared the silence, basking in one another’s company.
The repeated scraping of the blade came to a halt. Hugo tucked it away into its protective sleeve. Aldo passed by the two.
“Ready?” Aldo asked him. Hugo nodded at the southern man, his eyes following him.
“Hey,” Hugo’s quiet voice spoke out. You turned to him and felt his fingers entwine with yours. You looked over and saw a warm glow in his brown eyes. “Try not to miss me too much,” he whispered with a grin.
Hugo gently brushed his lips over your hand and you smiled. The soldier got up from the stone ledge and followed Aldo into the vehicle. His newly sharpened blade packed into his pocket.
“He’ll be okay,” you heard Utivich’s voice.
You smiled sadly, as the car drove off. “Yeah,” you agreed. “And that fucker doesn’t stand a chance against Hugo.”
Utivich laughed. “He’ll be scared shitless.”
—— —— ——
Aldo’s boots squeaked as he stepped out through the hospital’s bleak hallway. A German soldier guarding a door spotted him.
“Hey! You’re not supposed to—” His words were interrupted by the deep slit of his throat. A river of blood leaked out from the wound. The uniformed German collapsed and Hugo stepped over him, making sure to leave a dusted boot-print.
They reached the wooden door and the two men exchanged glances.
“Bingo,” Aldo said, nodding his head to the now lone door.
Quietly, Hugo turned the knob. There he was. The despicable Jew Hunter. Fast asleep, nestled on his cot. He had layers of bandages wrapped over his head.
Hugo’s eyes roamed back onto Aldo, and he smirked. “I’m a big fan of your work.”
Aldo shut the door behind them.
Hugo hovered over Hans’ sleeping body, lightly slapping his facial cheeks. Hans stirred awake, eyes widened in horror at Hugo’s menacing smile.
“Ah, Lan-da,” Hugo acknowledged in a tune.
Hans audibly gulped in fear. His big eyes flickered away from Hugo. “Aldo…” He warned. “Our deal!”
“Yeah, ‘bout that,” Aldo replied, stepping forward. “You remember what I said about gettin’ chewed out? Well, here it is.” He shrugged his shoulders.
“Auf wiedersehen,” Hugo said as he flashed a smile at the former SS officer. Quickly, he tugged at a pillow, covering the Austrian’s fearful face. Hugo, unsheathing his knife, forcibly stabbed through the cushion. Again and again and again.
Stab.
Stab.
Stab.
Underneath Hugo, Hans’ body reacted in a frenzy. His legs squirmed in a fit of struggle, his hands both gripped the sides of his bed.
The former officer’s grip loosened, eventually falling at its side. Hugo removed the pillow and admired his masterpiece. He crawled off of the body and pushed it to the floor with a thud.
Hans’ limp figure lied on the hospital floor. His sandy hair was tousled and stained with mists of dark red. Fresh blood was gashed across his face, dripping down his neck. With one last look, Hugo spit on the dead Colonel.
Aldo kneeled down and pulled out his knife. He began to scalp the last, most infamous Nazi on their list. With Hans’ scalp in his hands, he looked over to his fellow soldier.
“Nice work, Stiglitz. Let’s get’cha home.”
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Crossover n°65: Hans Landa (Inglourious Basterds) & Travis Leich (Hunters)
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Imagine those two N*zi psychopaths having a meeting in a federal prison.
Hans Landa: Listen there, boy: you need to get out of here before the Latinos skin you alive, and I need someone to look after those “Hunters” and the remaining members of Lieutenant Raine’s commando. Will you be able to do that for me?
Travis Leich: Y...Yes. I will, Standartenführer. You won’t get disappointed!
Hans Landa: Wünderbar. Then, I shall see you on Saturday for your liberation. Get some rest until then, we have a lot of things to do.
N.B: I NEVER AGREE WITH NAZI PROPAGANDA OR IDEOLOGY!
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fredrickzoller · 1 year
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I’m really excited about your new fics about them🔥especially a break up one bc I just can’t imagine Dieter trying to break things up, he may act tough around Hans when doors is closed but I feel like he would be still feared to lose his career(at best) and Hans is probably petty enough to give Dieter a death threats and threatening him in overall:)
Oh, there's definitely a lot of fear influencing his actions/decisions but he'll never acknowledge it because fear is unacceptable both as an officer and as a man. Even in "I picture my own grave" he very much consistently frames it as "concern" when thinking about his own fate and that of him and Landa.
But Dieter's wanting to end things with Hans (which is just his knee-jerk reaction when he's pissed about everything lol) stems from the idea too, that it would give him control, which he has absolutely NONE of, no matter how much he tries to convince himself otherwise. And like, something about him wanting to break up is supposed to be proof that he's "overcome" his tendencies... which Hans is like 🙄🥱.... he knows the truth lol.
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a-god-in-ruins-rises · 8 months
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palm tree, papyrus, camellia?
this one got a little long, sorry.
palm tree ⇢ do you have a fictional villain you shouldn’t like but love regardless?
lmao oh yeah. i've always been prone to sympathizing with villains. and i'm gonna use the term villain here pretty loosely as just a "bad guy" (or someone who is portrayed as such), regardless of whether they're the protagonist or antagonist or a side character.
but a few "villains" i love: vader/palpatine/dooku/thrawn, light yagami (or L to a slightly lesser extent), azula (and zuko before his turn), kuvira, lelouch, itachi uchiha, silco, gendo ikari, griffith, walter white, littlefinger, dany, general hummel, general shepherd, captain ahab, dutch (he was a good man! a man with a plan! manipulated by a rat.), hans landa, judge holden, ozymandias, homelander (what can i say? he's literally me. thank you patriots!), satan, etc.
papyrus ⇢ if you put your ‘on repeat’ playlist on shuffle, what’s the first song that comes up? what do you like about it / associate it with?
lmao "endzeit" by heaven shall burn. it's not hard to tell what i like about it. first, it's high energy and aggressive. but the lyrics are what really get me. i used to listen to this song back in my "anarchist" days in high school, back when i had dreams of violent revolution and martyrdom. ah, youth! but the energy and the lyrics still resonate with me today. it gets me hyped whenever i listen to it. man, i haven't listened to this in a minute. brings me back. memories of listening to it in the locker room before football practice or walking home from school under the orange glow of the autumn sun. it reminds me of all those other anarchist and punk kids i used to hang out with. i can't believe that was over a decade ago.
camellia ⇢ what were you like when you were younger? do you think you’ve changed a lot?
i mentioned a bit about my siblings in another ask last night and how different i am from them. that should give you an idea. i was basically the opposite of them in almost every way. as a kid i was "the quiet one" or "the strange one." was always a running joke in my family that i was adopted or that i was secretly an alien or something. i was content being alone, i read a lot of books, i loved animals and catching bugs, i looked at things through my microscope and the stars through my telescope. my brother had posters of models and celebrities and dirt bikes. i had the declaration of independence and old glory hanging on my wall, and posters of dinosaurs and spartans and romans.
my brother had shelves full of trophies he got from playing a variety of sports. my shelves were full of books or random trinkets or oddities i've collected and displayed or science experiments or terrariums/jars of different insects and animals. my brother had a lot of friends and he was always going to parties. i had no friends except imaginary ones. i often attribute my very active, vibrant imagination to the fact that i spent so much of my childhood playing "pretend" all by myself. i was a very curious child. always a curious child, exploring and going on lonely adventures and doing experiments and reading books.
do i think i've changed a lot? not that much. i've gotten bigger and stronger. i used to be a small, scrawny little thing. i've also become a lot more confident/aggressive. as a child i was shy and timid. but for the most part i think i'm very similar. i'm look at my computer desk and my bookshelf and it looks much like my room looked as a child. i still have many of the same passions/interests, just deeper and more expanded. i'm still the strange one.
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stupidfuckingwindow · 22 days
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I want an entire series about Landa on Nantucket Island getting tomatoes thrown at his house and being banned from Fast Food places when in search of work.
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one-boring-person · 2 months
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Hey love your writing can you please do more Christoph waltz stories maybe Hans landa and oc something fluffy and or smutty, I think there should me more imagines about him 🥰 xx
I'm very sorry, but I don't write for Christoph Waltz anymore 😓 if at some point in the future I decide to do more, I'll be glad to write something like this!
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imaginesbymk · 3 years
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NON REQUESTED
“WAIT—” your mouth was opened a bit to let out a word, but you held yourself back, watching the Colonel wash down a glass of milk, without his knowledge that the milk was most likely two weeks old. Possibly more.
Hans stared at you, looking through you with the glass still brought up to his lips.
What could be your potential reaction? Do the right thing and tell the Colonel he just drank a glass of expired milk, laugh at the fact that he did such and not tell him what was so funny, initiating a death wish, or stare back in a long wave of uncomfortable silence?
“Is something wrong?” he asks, setting the now empty glass down on the table.
Too late. You didn’t choose any of the options. You just smiled politely and shook your head. “No. Not at all. Disregard, Colonel.”
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ptok · 8 months
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Hans Landa Cafeteria Dream part 1
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During an early afternoon nap today (26th August 2023) I had a detailed dream based on ‘Inglorious Basterds’, the dream whose description can nearly be considered a fan fiction. In my dream I discovered some YouTube film with deleted scenes from Tarantino’s movie. Of course, as someone who admires Hans Landa, I used the visual search tool and stopped the play/pause button just at the scene where I have noticed his presence. In the scene, there was a bright, sunny sky and the line of low beige buildings in the old-town style, but this landscape did not resemble a big city such as Paris but some smaller town in France, and I even knew it in my dream that this is outside Paris. The camera focused on the cafeteria building which has ground floor and first floor only (in the British sense).
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The front walls of the building were removed and thus it resembled a dollhouse for children. The town, and the cafeteria itself, seemed to be very calm despite the war, thus the walls’ removal was made not because of war damages but because of making it accessible to the movie spectator. I saw Hans Landa on the first (and therefore the top) floor of the cafeteria. On the ground floor, before the fake entrance, there was a woman who wanted so badly to enter the cafeteria and meet Hans. The woman was wearing A-type skirt and was blond-haired, but, contrary to Shosanna and Bridget, two main female characters in the movie, her haircut was quite short, so-called bob, therefore I can say this was simply my haircut in the present, and the A-type skirt I like to wear was not very popular in the 1940s. However, in the dream I did not identify the woman with myself. (Of course the woman had not only a skirt but also a white blouse and a navy blue jacket 😄).
Then I found out that I will not understand anything from this scene if I do not watch the previous one. So I rewinded the video to watch it. In this previous scene, a battlefield was presented from the perspective of a soldier of the Allies (the anti-German side). He was also a character from the original Tarantino’s film but I don’t remember who exactly he was, let’s assume this was Aldo Raine because he was the main Allies’ character in the film. The battlefield scene was made in some kind of grotesque, music video style. Aldo Raine was presenting himself in the trench which was digged at the rear of the big field, in some scarce shrubbery, and the lieutenant was almost rapping some introduction of himself – something like ‘Here I am and I do the shooting work’, and presenting his gun. Then two cabaret girls loomed up from behind him, from the depth of the trench, and sang some chorus: ‘Yes, yes, we like to be in battle trench’. Singing, both girls brought up their almost-naked legs in the revia style – the girl on the left brought up her right leg, and the girl on the right brought up her left leg, to constitute the symmetry. I became somehow upset by this ‘funny’ attitude to war and wanted to do something to change it. Then I realized that I joined the world of the movie. I was no longer a YouTube spectator but the person on the battlefield, I felt I was even wearing a military jacket, and, digging lightly in the trench, seeing and touching the grains of soil left over after building it, I was seeking to show to myself – and to Aldo Raine – which position is the best to shoot the Nazi enemy but at the same time not to be shot.
Then the scene changed itself to the Hans-Landa-in-the-bright-small-town one. I was again just watching the film. The aforementioned blond-haired woman was impatiently standing before cafeteria, sometimes marching nervously to the one or another end of the old nice buildings’ line. When in all her wandering she once disappeared from the spectator’s view, then Hans just left the cafeteria building and appeared before it (of course in his uniform). A close-up was made at his face and then he started to behave like in a musical: all in larks (this is a Polish expression symbolizing big happiness and light-heartedness at the same time), he started to sing: ‘I’m about to have a woman! I’m about to have them all!’. Then the close-up ended and the camera showed him walking away from the cafeteria. He approached the next building on the right (from the spectator’s perspective). Then he repeated his singing lines in a very weird position: he stood closely under the blank (real) wall of the building; his arms crossed to ‘hug’ the beige wall but in fact hugging no one but himself; his forehead leaned against the wall as if he was dancing with a beloved woman.
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In the dream I was thinking this is a funny representation of his approaching satisfaction and of the stereotypical inexhaustible sexual appetite of a male character, but now, when I am writing this, I think it is so embarrassing, depressing, and ironic to sing ‘I’m about to have a woman! I’m about to have them all!’ that way, having the face withdrawn from others and from the sun, hugging no one but a wall (yes, exactly like the way I imagine sometimes I’m hugging and calming down Hans while it’s only my arms crossed against the quilt). In fact, his strange behaviour signalized the solitude; that he had no one to hug. Anyway, by the lines of Hans’ song I knew that the composition of the battlefield scene and the cafeteria scene has the objective to show that the element of courtship and sexuality is present also during the war, no matter if you’re in the battlefield or in the occupied town.
The dream isn't ended yet - please read Part 2!
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A Thing Going On (Lt. Aldo Raine - Inglourious Basterds)
Requested by: @what-the--curtains
Summary: While waiting for Bridget von Hammersmark, the Basterds decide to play cards to pass the time.
Prompt: 34 - Can you two please get a room? & 35 - I have a name and it's not sweetheart.
Author's Note: This is something you haven't seen on my blog before. It's my first Inglourious Basterds imagine so if there are any fans, hope you enjoy!
Taglist: @alienoresimagines @radiantcade @meteora-fc @kyra3155 @real-fans @not-john-watsons-blog @im-in-love-with-queen
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Y/N was laying on the only bed in the room playing with a knife, completely absorbed in her own thoughts. There was a big mission in front of them, the biggest one of them all, and she didn't have a good feeling about it. 
The knife blade glittered in the dim light of the lamp. Y/N put it down nonchalantly and slowly closed her eyes. She knew she needed to calm herself down. This was her job, a very important mission needed to be done, and there was no place for her feelings. She'd learnt to put them aside when required. 
Her gaze drifted off to their leader. Aldo was looking out of the window, his ocean eyes cold, empty but somehow sparkling as well. He was eager to jump right into that mission, get it done and end this whole goddamn war. 
"Let's play! I bet 5 bucks." Donny broke the silence while throwing a pack of cards on the dusty table.
"Alright, let's fucking do it!" Aldo surprised everyone by actually agreeing to gamble a bit. Utivich with Wicki just chuckled but sat down behind the table.
"C'mon! Let's have some fun, sweetheart." Aldo winked at Y/N, throwing some money in the middle of the table and gesturing for her to come and sit down with them.
"I have a name and it's not fucking sweetheart." she frowned at the nickname but joined the Basterds in their game anyway.
"Ready to lose, Lieutenant?" Y/N changed her attitude suddenly and grinned at Aldo.
"As long as I lose to ya, it ain't a problem for me."
"Glad to hear that, Lieutenant, 'cause I'm gonna win everything you have and then some more."
"I like that idea, Y/L/N." Aldo laughed while blowing out a cigarette smoke.
"Goddamn it, can you to get a freakin' room?" Donny frowned shuffling his cards, "we aren't interested in... whatever the hell you guys have going on."
Y/N chuckled and placed 10 bucks on the table, "Don't play such a lady, Donnowitz and give out the cards. What is between me and Mr Raine here is none of your business."
Donny stopped in the middle of preparing the game.
Hugo stopped polishing his knife.
Archie stopped walking back and forth.
And Aldo's heart stopped for a moment.
"What," Donny started, "you actually have something going on?"
And that was the moment Y/N realised she messed up. Nothing happened between them and that was exactly the problem - she gave herself away.
"E-hm," Y/N stuttered not being able to look anybody in the eye, especially Aldo. "Just give me a minute. Start without me. The winner can keep the 10 bucks."
•••
The night was cold but clear and starry. Something Y/N loved watching back in America in Smoky Mountains where nothing was bothering her. A single tear rolled down her cheek but she didn't do anything about it.
Y/N missed home more than anything. She wished to be back, see her family and friends again. She'd been away for 2 years now, on the other side of the world in the middle of the biggest conflict the world has ever been in.
"I miss it too, ya know. The States, Smoky Mountains, everything." Y/N heard Aldo's voice behind her. She turned around and her Y/E/C eyes met his ocean ones.
"How do you know I was thinking abou it?" she almost whispered.
"Well, darlin'," Aldo smiled pulling her closer to him, "we got a thing goin' on, right?" 
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Text
Blood Stained Name (AldoxFem!Reader)
Requested by @svonschroeder​
@owba-chan​ @inglourious-imagines​ @war-obsessed​ @tealaquinn​ @struggling-bee​ @frozenhuntress67​
Let me know if you wanna be added to the basterds or OUATIH taglist :)
You were, what some may call, a legend during the war. And like many other legends, you served as a warning to the cruel, and an idol to the just.  And, like any other legend, you were hunted. In fact, there was quite a large bounty placed on your head, complimentary of the nazi party.
Dead or alive. The only problem was...your name was unknown. Your age was unknown. Your nationality was unknown. Any general description of you was flawed, full of anomalies thanks to  fearful stutters and shudders. You made it known that you were helping resistances and rebellions throughout Europe. With that many allies, and so few clues, you were even harder to track down. The truth was, it was hard to hunt a hunter...because in spite of all you'd done for others, every rescue, every code, every message... your real gift was hunting. Nazi hunting, to be precise. So, with nothing better to go on than "nazi-hunter," you were dubbed 'Orion,' and filed as an enemy of the state. The Orion Initiative started in 1941: An extensive mission and intensive investigation aimed at tracking you down, led by your polar opposite, the Jew Hunter: Hans Landa. Rumors of the nazi hunting started just months after the nazi party took over... An official (though top secret) report was started in 1940, when the hunt was clearly more than just a rumor. An official investigation was launched in 1941. By late 1942, a group of nazi hunters was identified, and originally considered a set of 'copy cats.' The theory was struck down...and the group became known as the ‘basterds.' It was now 1944... The Orion mystery remained unsolved, making it the longest investigation Landa had ever been on. It was a record... Something he was not proud of. He had to solve it.... The only problem was he'd never seen such a clean trail...such meticulous murder... Nearly a perfect crime, every time. Just enough evidence left behind to drive him insane, and just less than enough to piece anything together. It was done on purpose. It was a mockery, and he knew it.
What he didn't know was your name... In fact, nearly no one knew it. The French Resistance knew you as Anaïs Bellamy, a saving grace. To the Soviets, Tatiana Zima. To the Belgian Resistance, you were Cassandra Willems. But that was as many names as Landa could collect (through the most heinous means). Neither of them were legitimate, and all of them led to dead ends. You were a myth with a thousand names. Faceless, but full of lore. Each resistance that knew you, knew you as a hero. Nothing more, nothing less. Each nazi that knew you, never saw anything again. To the allies, you were an asset. To the nazis, you were a faceless, nameless menace. To Hans Landa, you were an abomination, and an embarassment. He would uncover your name and face,  and close that case and file, if it was the last thing he did.
He swore that he'd find you. You were just like him at the end of the day. You used the same strategies, same intimidation, you played the same game... Of course, you knew that. And it drove you crazy. Because you wanted to be nothing like him... Nothing like your father. Unaware of your million names, you were simply Y/n to him. His daughter.  To you, he was simply a nazi. Dead to you, the moment he first put on his SS uniform... But he didn't know that. He was too busy with work, and you didn't quite mind your game of cat and mouse. You liked driving him crazy without him even knowing. As he worked overtime trying to find a single connection, you smirked, as he rattled on and on about names and clues. He’d never been so frantic over any case before... Every once in a while, you’d throw him a bone. A useless, broken bone, at that. A puzzle piece to a puzzle without a picture.  Still, he’d smile at you, the only thing in the world he had, and sighed, “Danke, Y/n...” Y/N.  Very few people knew that to be your name. And one yank hillbilly by the name of Lieutenant Aldo Raine knew it.... 
By accident, of course. He never quite had the pleasure of making your acquaintance, but he did know enough of your friends in the resistance, and as a basterd, he was privy to some information most people weren't. It was rare, but he somehow connected the dots. He saw one of your identifications. One of the many.... He may have been a bootlegging redneck from the humble Maynardville Tennessee, but he was no idiot. And he practically had a photographic memory.
There were faces he never forgot. And yours, on those fake French papers, was one of them. Your name stuck with him... Your name....the thing you hated most about yourself.  "You're so much like him!" "Same eyes!" "Same brains, too!" You forced a smile through it all. You couldn't take much more of this. You were trapped in a crowded lobby, in a cinema, surrounded by your enemy. Your name... This was the exact reason very few of your allies knew your real name. They equated you to your father. They were suspicious of you, a possible double crosser... It took so much to convince people of your true colors. But...you couldn't blame them. You still carried all the blame of your father's sins. You didn't think twice. You just fought. And you fought the urge to cry and scream, and burn the place down in that moment. Landa was a blood stained name, and there was nothing you could do about it... You sighed, as your father interceded, accepted compliments on your behalf...and proceeded to encourage you to mingle. "I want grandchildren some day." It took every ounce of you to brace yourself, and remind yourself that there was already a plan for the night. You forced a smile as you lost yourself in the crowd, away from him, and leaned over the railing of the second floor, watching the final night of your life come and go, there at the Nations Pride premier. ******** The war went on, and the basterds built up a way into Emmanuelle Mimeau's cinema: Operation Kino. Along the way, Bridget revealed she had eyes on the sinde of the regime....and the theater. She showed the basterds the picture of her spy.  A 'darling little thing,' as she held up a newspaper clipping. A daughter of a renowned nazi officer. A face Aldo recognized.... but no... It couldn’t be... He’d believe it when he saw it. And there you were, in the lobby with the rest of the nazis, for the premier of Nation's Pride. Aldo spotted you from across the room as he walked in with Bridget, Omar, and Donny. He was caught off guard, seeing a legend like you in person was almost like seeing a ghost story come to life. He whispered with astonishment, "Y/N Landa." You had spotted them from a mile away, on the second floor, as you leaned over the rails. You smiled, having learned to read lips long ago,  as you looked Aldo in the eye. You knew time was running out. You knew Operation Kino in and out. It was a sign of the times...so you may as well have fun with what you had left of it. You winked at Aldo, and blew him a kiss. He was flustered for a split second. 
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Donny snickered, Omar smirked, and Bridget looked away, blushing as she giggled. Only moments before the boys could make their way to you for last minute updates, they ran into a little problem. Your father. ....Still, Aldo smiled and nodded snarkily as he made conversation in an embarassingly tragic excuse for Italian. Aldo couldn't believe it.... Hans Landa had no idea who his own daughter was. **********1943*********** "Monsieur Raine, you've just missed her!" The Basterds' contact in the French Resistance, Etienne, chuckled. "Who?" He smiled, "Your counterpart. Orion." Donny raised his eyebrow, "You said 'her'?" Etienne nodded, "Her." He held out a copy of your resistance identification. Aldo held the paper, and looked up, "Orion's a woman?" He narrowed his eyes as he looked at the fake name: Anaïs Bellamy. Hirschberg leaned over his shoulder, inspecting the documents... a bit disappointed, having hoped that Orion was an American. Etienne rolled his eyes, "German. Y/n Landa. One of the best we got." Another resistance fighter smiled as he cleaned nazi blood off his guns, "Good kid. Good aim. Fast runner." ---Meanwhile--- "Verdammt. Verdaaaamnt. Verdamnt." You muttered under your breath, as you climbed through your bedroom window, threw off your bloody, war-torn clothes, and threw on something presentable. You quickly glanced into your mirror. You popped your thumb in your mouth, and then wiped away some blood from your cheekbone. Your hair was a mess, and you looked tired. Perfect. You practically flew down the stairs, and rushed down the halls. You had a job to do in Paris. You couldn’t exactly waste time conversing with that fiend that dared call himself a father.
But you were stopped by an old familiar voice. "Another bad night, liebling?" You sighed, and shuffled toward the doorway in the dining room. "Ja..." Your father sighed as he put down his newspaper, and looked at you, as he smoked his pipe. He shook his head, and went on about being worried, and telling you for the millionth time that you should see a doctor. "No, but I-" "Your grades are slipping! Don't think I haven't noticed." He grumbled a little.
"I'm still graduating next semester." "You're still seeing a doctor." "But-" "Tomorrow morning." "But." He raised his voice, "Case closed." That was it... 
Once Hans Landa said 'case closed,' he meant it. ************************ The night went on, as expected... Mostly.
As he interrogated Aldo and Smitty, he expected he had it all figured out. "What shall the history books read?" Aldo raised his eyebrow, "Yeah? An' what about Y/n? Ain’t that kid still in the theater? Be a shame. Ain’t that right, Utivich?" Utivich smirked a little, “Yes, sir.” Landa stopped smirking... His face grew spiteful, his eyes narrowed with the intent to kill, "Tell me how you know my daughter's name or I swear I'll send word to the theater, I'll have the rest of your men shot, and-"
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"Relax Landa. I know all my associate's names." Landa shook  his head, "Associates?" He smiled, thinking he had it figured out again, "She was infiltrating your basterds, and didn't tell me!" He grinned, "I tell you, that girl is just like me. That's it, isn't it?" Aldo smirked this time, and shook his head once, "Nope." Landa's face fell. If looks could kill... "So you either make that there deal, or not. Y/n is my man on the inside. And ain't no way you takin em boys out without settin' em bombs off." Landa left the desk, and immediately sent orders out for you to be found, and escorted directly to him. Then he took the deal with the general.  He would deal with you later. He couldn't tell if what Aldo said was true, but he desparately hoped it wasn't... and even more so, he wanted you out of that cinema. As Smitty and Aldo were escorted onto the truck to be taken behind allied lines, a nazi ran up to Landa with some news. You were not found... He was silent for a moment, and looked down as he nodded slowly, bracing himself for the possibility that you never would be found. Perhaps, you'd gone out for some air. Maube you'd gone home, and finally got some sleep. Or you went out looking for your dear old dad... Maybe....maybe you'd met someone worth loving there, a high ranking officer. (You had...but Aldo wasn't exactly the man Landa had in mind for you.) "Sir." Hans snapped out of it, and nodded as he made his way to his seat. Everything went well...too welll... The next thing he knew, Aldo had carved a swastika onto his face, and as he screamed in agony, Landa saw a nazi truck pulling up.  A hijacked one. One with three familiar faces. Two basterds, and a hunter.
Landa was a smart man, but, his hope and sentimenatality won out for once. He believed for a few moments you were there to save him, that you'd apprehended Donny and Omar, and you'd given him a fighting chance. You were just like him, after all, all the people said so. Maybe you'd be a double crosser, and help him. But you didn't. As blood from Aldo's mark dripped into Landa's eyes, he looked up at you, betrayed for a moment. Then....it all came together. He pursed his lips, as he pieced every single bit of evidence together.  You knew things there was no way for you to know. You had been right under his nose all along. It had been the perfect place to hide.... He gave one psychotic smile, as he watched you raise your pistol, and aim it at him. "I knew you'd outsmart me some day." You heard Aldo step up from behind you, "Y/n...he's still your father. We can take care of this." Landa, at the moment, was truly intrigued at what would happen next. But you didn't put your gun down. You shook your head, not even looking at Aldo. In fact, you looked at your ‘father’ the whole time.  You muttered, "I don't have a father." He seemed betrayed again, for an instant, but then again, you were just like him. A double crosser with a mission. He nodded. He smiled as he nodded.
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He accepted it... You were just like him, after all... And he finally had an answer to the Orion Initiative. It would remain unofficial, and lost... But the case was finally closed. To him, at least. The Orion Initiative had an answer. It had been right under his nose, all along. He really was impressed, and psychotic as it was...he was proud of you. But the feeling was not mutual. You knew even after all that, he wasn't sorry. And the guilt of the nazis had done would forever weigh on you...So one less nazi in the world, one last hunt was all you could ask for. The war was over, but at that moment, there were things you and every other resitance, soldier, and victim would never forget. This was it... He smiled, and shrugged, "Case closed, Orion." You pulled the trigger. At that moment, there were thousands filing into streets, drinking, celebrating, dancing in the streets.... But when the confetti was swept up, and the soldiers went home, and the toppled regimes’ dust settled...everyone would have somewhere to go.
The gunsmoke cleared, and you took a breath, for the first time in a long time. You lowered your shoulders, and unclenched your jaw... For the first time in a long time, you could rest... But you had no place to call home. No one to call your own, in spite of the thousands that knew you, your face, and your story, few knew your name... Even fewer knew you. But you felt a hand on your shoulder, and a soft voice with a strange accent. "Y/n..." And you turned to see a warm smile, and kinder eyes: Lieutenant Aldo Raine... But he'd tell you you could call him Aldo, later that day.  And your world turned upside down. "Well...” He put his hands at his hips and sighed as he smiled at you, “You ain't part of the deal, Orion, and I sure as hell am gon' get chewed out for this...but I think we'll find somethin' for ya." You smiled genuinely for the first time in a long time... That was the first, honest thing you'd heard in longer than you could remember... He took your hand, as you walked with the basterds to the west, to the general, and to freedom. As you smiled at Aldo, and he smiled at you, you knew you were going somewhere safe, somewhere far. Perhaps on a mountain, somewhere in the middle of Tennessee. It wouldn't be like the mountains in Austria that you knew, but, a kinder place, one far from war, and farther from your memories of it. There in Aldo's eyes, you found something new as the sun began to rise in the horizon. A beginning... A place to call your own, a name without a blood stain.
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