#joyeux noël 2005

[moodysullie]

Welcome to Daniel Brühl's Fur Coat Cinematic Universe

#joyeux noël #joyeux noël 2005 #lieutenant horstmayer #eva 2011 #eva movie #alex garel #the alienist #thealienistedit #laszlo kreizler #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #baron zemo #helmut zemo #the king's man #thekingsmanedit #erik jan hanussen #daniel brühl #daniel brühl gif #danielbrühledit #dbrühledit #my gifs #filmedit #filmgifs #tvedit

[lidensword]

Although I really like to think of them as three good friends, I must admit Lt Horstmayer and Lt Audebert have notorious potential as a ship.

#Joyeux Noël 2005 #WWI #Christmas truce #Lieutenant Horstmayer #Lieutenant Audebert #Lieutenant Gordon #Audebert x Horstmayer #...I guess someone had to do this. #meme #Lt. Gordon enjoys being the third wheel. I know he does. #They (including their soldiers) have all my heart :') #my drawings

[norabrice1701]

Consequence

 A Ghost!Horstmayer x Fem!Reader AU

Summary: “Seriously?” You say, sighing in vague annoyance. “A ghost?” You don’t consider yourself to be a superstitious person, and you certainly don’t believe in haunted things lurking around dark corners.

Of course, it doesn’t make sense. Of course, ghosts aren’t real. You just need your overactive imagination to calm down.

But then comes the night that changes everything...

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: Explicit 18+ NSFW smut; explicit language; references to 1918 pandemic and lost love; Horstmayer needs a hug

A/N: Last year, it started with a pirate!Horstmayer fic and now we have ghost!Horstmayer on this Christmas Eve. Curl up somewhere warm with something warm & cozy, and I hope you enjoy! And to those who celebrate the holiday - I wish you all a Happy & Merry Christmas 🎄😊❤️

You inherit the apartment from your Great-Aunt Alphonsine. Heartless as it sounds, you didn't even know that you had a Great-Aunt Alphonsine until the lawyer calls you. 

“The care and maintenance of the apartment is part of your Great-Aunt’s estate. Should you choose to retain the dwelling, you will only be financially responsible for the consumables.” 

“The consumables?” You echo in confusion. “What does that mean? Consumables as in… water and electricity?” 

“No, miss. Consumables as in food, paper products, toiletries, and so forth. Your Great-Aunt’s estate has allocations for utilities, cleaning services, repair services, tax fees, and insurance costs. She was adamant that you shoulder no additional financial burden with the inheritance of her beloved home.” 

On and off over the years, your mother has spoken of the estranged family that lives in France, but surely, this has to be too much. You’d never met Great-Aunt Alphonsine, and doesn’t she have any immediate family of her own? Or is this her way of trying to reunite the family? 

Regardless, you still can’t believe it. Even now as you stand - still dumbfounded by the simple fact that you’re actually here in Paris - staring at the building’s elegant stone and wrought-iron facade, you want to pinch yourself. 

Nearly overnight, you’ve gone from a cramped, nearly-windowless apartment to this sweeping, third-story, top-floor apartment with commanding views of the Luxembourg Gardens. Nearly overnight, you no longer have to choose between paying rent or paying down student loans. Nearly overnight, you find yourself faced with the decision of what to do with such a classy place, but you figure that you should at least see the interior before deciding. 

And the interior doesn’t disappoint. Cozily appointed and elegantly furnished, the whole apartment proves an expert study in Edwardian class and comfort. Each room hosts gleaming wood fireplaces, lush rugs, and plushy armchairs and settees. The living room with a piano in one corner and a simple writing desk tucked in another corner looks like the perfect place to continue work on your novel. The dining room is warm and intimate, and blessedly, the kitchen has been updated with modern appliances. 

The hallway hosts three inviting bedrooms and one sophisticated bathroom. Each progressive room makes you feel sloppy in your jeans and sweater, yet also puts you completely at ease. The old-world charm and elegance of the whole place should probably be intimidating, but there is something undeniably homey and inviting about it.  

You make your decision and settle in right away. The living room becomes your favorite haunt and think-tank, while the master bedroom serves as your private lair. You’ve never known such stylish comfort or pleasant environs. In fact, it’s a marvel that your Great-Aunt has managed to outfit her home in a way that doesn’t feel old and stuffy but still retains the splendor of a bygone age. 

As time passes, you meet the cleaning lady by name of Marie-Rose who tiptoes around on silent footsteps, and the all-around handyman, Georges, who is never without a jovial smile beneath his bushy mustache. 

“This is an easy fix, mademoiselle.” Georges says, extending the ladder legs. “I’m glad that you called.”  

“I appreciate that you came so quickly, but really, there was no rush.” And you mean it. Replacing a burned out lightbulb in the living room chandelier isn’t an urgent matter, but Georges wouldn’t hear of it. 

“Well, Mademoiselle Alphonsine was just the kindest lady, and I wouldn’t want to do her an insult by way of you, now.” 

Your mouth pulls to an awkward, closed-mouth smile. “I wish that I had known her better.” Or at all, really. 

Georges unboxes the new lightbulb, nodding up at you with a reassuring smile. “I’ll have this replaced in no time. Don’t you worry, mademoiselle.” Despite your insistence otherwise, he refuses to call you anything else. “But keep an eye out for that ghost, would you please?” 

He starts to climb the ladder, and you arch a dubious brow. “Seriously?” You say, sighing in vague annoyance. “A ghost?” You don’t consider yourself to be a superstitious person, and you certainly don’t believe in haunted things lurking around dark corners. 

“Oh, you can be sure of it. Mademoiselle Alphonsine had many stories about her resident ghost - even said that she glimpsed him in the foyer mirror once. Eyes like golden chocolate, she said.” 

“Golden chocolate?” You hum skeptically. “And I’m sure that every time this old building creaked, that was the ghost, too?” 

Georges nods as he works. “Mademoiselle Alphonsine swore that he was always here - as a chill when she entered a room, as a phantom whisper against her cheek, as a fallen and broken object.” 

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” You scoff, shaking your head. “I mean, it makes sense why a single, elderly lady living alone would conjure tales about a ghost when things went bump in the night. It’s the most basic trope in all of horror-dom! And once she believed it, I’m sure it just became easier each time something ‘supposedly-mysterious but easily-explainable’ happened for her to just chalk it up to her resident ghost.” 

Georges laughs softly but nothing about it is comforting. “Then, don’t believe in the ghost at your own peril, mademoiselle. But far be it for me to speak ill of the dead - either Mademoiselle Alphonsine or her resident ghost.” 

Of all the ridiculous nonsense. There are no such things as ghosts, regardless of what your Great-Aunt or her handyman think. 

And yet… you can’t fully banish the lingering thought. Especially in the dark hours of night when the city grows still, when the building grows silent, when shadows dance on the walls. You start to notice the ambient creaks and groans of the centuries’ old building. You start to notice the reflections in polished surfaces, unable to stop the creeping moments of suspicion and the urge to do a double-take over your shoulder. 

Eyes like golden chocolate, indeed. 

Of course, it doesn’t make sense. Of course, ghosts aren’t fucking real. You just need your overactive imagination to calm down. 

But then comes the night that changes everything. 

The day has been absolute hell in a handbasket, and you need to lose yourself. So, you do: retiring to your bed with a half-full bottle of wine and your favorite vibrator. It has been a while since your last boyfriend, and you treat yourself far better than he ever did. Still trembling from your first orgasm, you writhe against the bedsheets, slowly teasing towards your second. Your slick, sensitized skin sings as you drive the toy harder, chasing the pleasurable swell inside you. The wood and plaster walls echo with your soft cries and whimpers - and in the moments your eyes wink open, you see yourself in the mirror mounted above the bedroom fireplace. 

The debauched sight that you paint should probably be shameful, but you’re too far gone to care. Your hair fans across the pillowcase, sleep shorts and underwear discarded with your sleep shirt rucked up. With one hand twisting and pinching against your breast, the other works the toy inside you. The desperate heat builds to a crescendo as you drag against your white hot spot of pleasure, tearing a long cry from your lips as you start to boil over. 

Glass cracks and shatters across the room, slicing through your fog of arousal. You scream at the sudden burst of sound, and the toy slips from your grip. Your body fights a new surge of adrenaline-fueled energy as you stare at the fractured mirror over the bedroom fireplace. Cracked lines radiate across the reflective surface originating from a point in the middle. Several glass shards have broken loose, now smashed against the polished wood floor. 

Your heart races as you sit up to get a better look, overcome with the impending rush of your denied orgasm and the fear that bolted down your spine at the sight. Especially as you stare at the distorted reflection in the mirror’s broken remains. It looks… you gulp. Another shiver runs through you as you squint harder in the low light. The shape coalesces into a distinct, shadowed outline of a head and shoulder - and eyes. 

Eyes that glint with golden chocolate. 

You blink, and the image disappears. Or… has it even been there in the first place?

The thought keeps you awake longer than you care to admit. And ever since, you haven't been able to shake the unnerving feeling that you’re being watched. 

Sure, it sounds cliche. Fuck that, it’s definitely cliche. You’re starting to be no better than your Great-Aunt, really: living alone in an old house with an antique mirror that had finally just cracked from age. You don’t need to let the power of suggestion get to you. Of course, there hasn’t been a ghost with golden chocolate eyes watching you in your bedroom. The implications of that are just too fucked up. 

But none of that stops a shiver from crawling down your spine when living room floorboards squeak while you sit unmoving on the couch. It doesn’t stop you from giving the foyer mirror a suspicious side-eye every time you walk past or glimpse shadowy movement on its reflective surface. 

All of it stirs traitorous, lingering questions to life. Has Great-Aunt Alphonsine been right? Does her home indeed have a resident specter of some sort? Could there really be such a thing as ghosts? 

The nagging questions torment you for the better part of two weeks, not helped each night when you crawl into bed and stare at the bare patch of wall above the fireplace where the mirror used to hang. But finally, emboldened by another bottle of wine, you open an incognito browser window and let your search history spiral down a rabbit hole. 

Are ghosts real 

Why do ghosts haunt

Can you banish ghosts

Can you contact ghosts

Madame Lastra incantation 

Dr. Vladimir Zugravs’s Collection of Spells and Other Curios book

The next day finds you at the National Library of France. Of course, the section you seek resides in a quiet, dusty corner of the archives that surely crawls with ghosts of its own. Fluorescent light bulbs buzz overhead as you scan the spine titles and catalog numbers. Eventually, you find Dr. Zugrav’s book and pull it from the shelf as your heart leaps. Thumbing through the pages, you glimpse all sorts of sketches - diagrams of plants, people, symbols - and page after page of obscure, occultist lore. 

When you find the page entitled ‘Madame Lastra’s Incantation for Contact Beyond the Living World’, a forbidden thrill runs through you. Fuck, you can’t believe this actually exists, and worse… would it actually work? 

Back in the warmth of your living room, you pour over the pages with rapt interest. It… honestly, it sounds so easy. Does it really only take sandalwood scented air and a red beeswax barrier coupled with the right words to contact the dead? You read the pages again and again, looking for the obvious catch. If it is supposedly just that simple, then why doesn’t everyone know about this? 

But once you have the sandalwood incense and red beeswax candle, you wait until Saturday night. The fact that it’s Christmas Eve just happens to be a coincidence. You already told your parents that you aren’t able to come home for Christmas, and if you really have the chance to make a new friend, then… well, who wants to be alone on Christmas Eve? 

So, you sit in the foyer and light the incense. As the woodsy smell permeates the air, you light the candle and let it burn for several minutes to form a blood-red puddle of molten wax. With careful movements, you dribble the wax in a line just behind the front door, spanning wall to wall as the book instructured. Admittedly, you do cringe at the sight of the vibrant red wax cooling against the finely polished wood floor - and god, maybe you should go to a therapist after this - but for now, you’re too committed to stop. 

When the line looks thick enough - honestly, the book wasn’t too specific - you set the candle next to the incense and sit cross-legged, staring at the front door and the fresh line of wax. You turn the page and your breathing quickens. Adrenaline surges through you, taking a deep breath to listen to the gentle piano Christmas carols that play in the background as a low fire burns in the living room fireplace accompanied by the soft glow of a table lamp. 

In a clear, purposeful voice - the book is incessant on that part - you recite the words. It sounds even stupider and laughingly implausible as your voice echoes off the woodwork, as if waiting for the punchline of some elaborate joke. But then… the fire flares in the living room from the corner of your eye and a wave of intense heat rolls over you. Lightning strikes outside the windows and roaring thunder threatens to burst your eardrums. Strobing lightning continues to blind you as shapes and shadows melt and shift around you. With wide eyes, you glance around as fear otherwise paralyzes you. 

God, shit, fuck… what have you done? 

Thunder shakes the building incessantly, but your blood freezes as audible, distinct footsteps creak down the hallway. Your heart sticks in your throat as blood pounds in your ears, turning around to see… an unknown man emerge from the shadows. 

His thick chestnut hair and beard hold a neat style as he frowns down at you. He wears dark, high-waisted trousers of an antiquated fashion with a white dress shirt, matching vest, and tie neatly knotted at his throat. Firelight and lightning gleam off a wristwatch set against a thick leather band wrapped around his right wrist. He looks for all the world like he just stepped out of a late Edwarian-era photograph, and a chill runs through you. 

He rests his hands in his trousers’ pockets as he comes to a stop at the living room threshold, his face hard with disapproval. “I understand that modern sensibilities have changed,” he says with crisp, Germanic syllables. “But have you completely dispensed with all sense of general propriety?” 

You stare back at him, agape and lost for words. Too many questions overload your brain as you meet his sharp, golden chocolate eyes. Eyes that are all too familiar from a hazy moment in your bedroom’s shattered mirror. 

He blinks those otherworldly eyes as irritation tightens the corners of his mouth, and he nods vaguely over your shoulder. “Referring, of course, to the mess that you have made on his floor. Terribly inconsiderate of you as a guest, considering how that red dye will no doubt leave a permanent stain.” 

Your eyebrows climb to your hairline. “A guest…? But I live here.” 

He shakes his head in slow reproach. “This is not your home anymore than it is your Great-Aunt’s or mine - we are all houseguests here.” He advances slowly, coming more into the flickering firelight and your pulse quickens as he continues. “But, perhaps you are not as worthy as she was - first, for damaging his floor, and second, in this unwelcome -.” His words stop short as his face pinches in open confusion and disbelief. 

You freeze in equal uncertainty, watching his keen gaze fix on the roaring fire. Lightning still flashes all around - or, perhaps strobe is a more accurate word - especially as you realize that thunder no longer accompanies each bright bolt of light. Without another word, he strides forward with his attention clearly diverted from you. 

With trembling movements, you push to your feet as you continue to stare at him. Just who in the hell is this man? He can’t just come into your house uninvited… or was he invited? You stand just inside the living room, staring at the broad line of his back as he pauses in front of the fireplace. He holds his left hand in front of the flames as if warming chilled skin, but the look of astonishment on his face makes your brow furrow. 

Chilling realization creeps through you as he continues to stare at his hand in a mix of disbelief and reverence. You wet your top lip, exhaling sharply. “You’re Great-Aunt Alphonsine’s resident ghost, aren’t you?” 

“I prefer that you call me Karl Horstmayer.” 

You gasp as realization slams through you, and holy shit… the incantation has worked. The truth before your eyes stuns you as lightning flares at random, disorienting intervals. You blink away from him in your stupor, still trying to process it all, and your mindless gaze sweeps around the room. At least, until you notice that the familiar table lamp has just… disappeared. In fact, the fireplace and lightning are the only light sources around you. 

Your mind reels at the implications, and you turn towards the windows that overlook the gardens across the street. It’s impossible to make out anything of the city beyond - no streetlights, no rustling trees - as if everything outside has been swallowed up by the soundless lightning storm. 

Everything about that thought sends your mind into overdrive as your heart races. “Does…  does that mean that I’m… dead?” 

He shrugs a disinterested shoulder, still studying his hand. “What is dead?” 

“Dead is how y-you’re a ghost.” Your words shake with mounting uncertainty. “And how I’m… I’m - where are we, anyway?” 

“Why do you assume that I have all the answers?” His words cut sharp. “Aren’t you the one with the occultist book?” 

“The book doesn’t say anything about this!” Honestly, if the incantation is going to transport you to some freakish vortex between life and death, the book should at least fucking mention it. 

If your outburst bothers Karl, he gives no visible indication. Instead, he simply lowers his hand back to his side as the corner of his mouth lifts with a sad, fond edge. “All I know is that I have not felt such warmth in well over a century.” 

Despite your unease, your brow knits as you process his words. “No? Not even when… well, assuming that you’ve walked this apartment as you are now,” you gesture at him, suddenly feeling woefully out of your depth. “Does that mean that you don’t feel physical sensation…?” 

“Not as such.” He answers softly. “But the eternal now has no physical concept, so your question is invalid.” 

“That makes no sense.” You shake your head, returning your gaze to him as you wait for him to respond. 

But neither of you speak for several long minutes. Brilliant purple-white light continues to burst out the windows, punctuated only by crackles from the fireplace and the eerie melody of distorted Christmas carols. You strain your ears to listen, just able to recognize ‘Silent Night’ despite how melancholy and dissonant the tune sounds. 

You force a swallow, continuing the conversation in his stead. “I mean - clearly, this is a physical place. I’m standing here, a-and you’re standing there. And there’s a fire, and music… and you called it his place.” You pause, blinking over at him as he stands unmoving, still just staring into the fire. “So, if I’m a guest and you’re a guest… then, whose place is this?” 

Heart-wrenching sadness eats at the lines of his handsome face despite his failing attempts to hold a stoic appearance. It ages him so young - younger than you’d initially estimated due to his deceptive facial hair. What has happened to this young man? By all accounts, he looks healthy - as if he could still be alive today. 

The muscles of his throat work around a hard swallow. “This is the home of the Audebert family. Camille Audebert, in particular.” He pinches his mouth shut as if needing a moment to collect himself. 

Concern stirs in your chest as you wrap your arms around yourself and step into the living room. “And who was... is Camille Audebert?” 

Karl’s eyes swim with firelight and distant memory. “Someone who I met on a Christmas Eve long ago. Someone who… who I had hoped to find again. But someone who died in this house before I could get here.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” You take another careful step forward. “How did he die?” 

“The flu of 1918 swept through Paris, sparing neither the rich or the poor, and he succumbed much like countless other victims.” 

A chill runs down your spine as your heart lodges in your throat. “The flu of 1918… that sounds unreal….” Your voice trails off as the unnerving lightning reflects off your skin and clothes. “Is that also when you… died, too?” 

“No.” He offers a weak shake of his head. “I followed… in 1919, I think it was. You’ll forgive me on the exact year…” 

You ach an incredulous brow, unable to believe it. “And you’ve been here - in this place… this apartment since 1919, give or take.” 

His heavy eyes drop closed as he bows his head solemnly. 

Your tongue runs across your top lip. “Then, why don’t you just leave?”

“That’s not how it works.” His voice chills you to the bone. “Actions on the mortal plane ripple through eternity, and a deal with the devil is just that.” 

“But you’re…,” you start as you struggle to understand. “Surely, you’re not… like a demon or something.”

“No,” he gives a short shake of his head. “But one needn’t be a demon to find themselves in hell.” 

You regard him in a moment of contemplation. Is he really trapped here? What deal has he possibly made? You exhale an uncertain sigh, hesitating until you catch yourself. For fuck’s sake, this man is a ghost – what do you really have to worry about? “So, what -” your words stick in your throat despite yourself. “How long do you have to stay here?” 

He turns an almost pitying, closed-mouth smile towards you. “Time is a mortal construct. It doesn’t exist in the eternal now. As such, I shall simply reside as I am until… until the stars turn cold, I suppose.” 

Your heart goes out to him as your gaze softens. “That sounds incredibly lonely. With no one for company.” 

“Yet, you’ve proven that it’s possible.” His brow furrows as if he just realized something that hasn’t occurred to him before. He turns towards you with his haunting, perceptive gaze. “Tell me, why did you seek this meeting tonight?” 

The intensity of his firelit gaze leaves you fumbling for words. Why exactly have you contacted him? Is it merely to satisfy your own curiosity? Is it just to vindicate your Great-Aunt? 

“And tonight, of all nights,” he continues, not unkindly as he gestures vaguely with his left hand. “I am not unfamiliar with the carols in the air, though again… to hear them so vividly now is….” He trails off with a shake of his head. 

“Vividly?” You arch a dubious brow. “It sounds like they’re playing underwater on an untuned piano.” 

“And yet all I hear is clear, harmonized perfection.” He drops his eyes closed in clear indulgence of a treat that he’s been so long denied. 

A shiver races down your spine at the thought and you can’t help but wonder. Each time that you play music in the house and enjoy tonal melodies, does he hear the sort of tuneless, distorted musical notes that you hear now? Is your presence in whatever this place is somehow letting him experience the world of the living from beyond the grave? The implications of that only make your mind spin and a distant ache blooms in your skull. You take a deep breath, massaging your temples and feeling woefully out of your depth. 

Nothing about this makes any sense – but honestly, what did you expect by using some incantation to contact a dead ghost? And now… just where the fuck do you go from here? How long are you going to stay here? How long does the incantation last? And, really, just what do you have waiting for you back on the other side tonight? 

Your gaze falls to the blazing fire for another long minute. If Karl Horstmayer is indeed dead, then why shouldn’t you just be honest? You nibble your bottom lip before speaking. “I guess it’s just…” you trail off, sighing as anxious butterflies erupt in your stomach. “It’s Christmas Eve, and I just… I didn’t want to be alone.” 

He shifts almost uneasily on his feet. At first glance in the swirls of blinding light, perhaps a blush dances high on his cheeks above his beard, but you can’t tell for sure. It does nothing to detract from his handsomeness, and an appreciative smile edges your face. 

He catches your gaze, his own pensive and analytical as he regards you. “And straddling the veil between worlds is the best way to remedy that?”

Your mouth pinches with irritation. “I… well, yes – I mean, you’ve been watching me and because I… I saw you.” You don’t want to delve into the details since - fuck, this man has seen everything that happened in your bedroom. “I saw your brown eyes - eyes of golden chocolate - just like my Great-Aunt had said.”

His eyes darken with obvious memory as the shared knowledge of the night that your bedroom mirror shattered hangs between you. Heat flares along your skin despite the fire’s warmth, gathering low in your belly under his intense scrutiny. From his words so far, the extent of his physical sensation may still be a mystery, but clearly, he isn’t emotionally unaffected by the events that took place in this house. 

You wet your top lip as your breathing quickens. “You say that the eternal now has no physical concept, yet you were able to break the mirror that night. For that was you… watching me….” 

A startlingly ashamed look crosses his face as he drops your gaze. “As only the dead can. Not one of my finer moments, I regret to say.” 

His dizzying verbal circles make your head spin, but they’re far from off-putting. “But you only feel guilty now that I’ve confronted you about it, right? Never thought you’d get caught, right? And why would you if I’m your first-ever visitor...” And, shit, the implications for the future crash down around you. As long as you stay in this house, he will be here watching you – each time you shower, eat dinner, sleep, pleasure yourself or share your bed with anyone else. Honestly, the thought should probably repulse or terrify you, but there’s something oddly… comforting about it. In the knowledge that you’ll never truly be alone. 

But what about Karl? Is he forever condemned to just watch humanity pass him by from within the confines of this apartment? “So, what does that mean, then?" You ask softly. "‘As only the dead can’…?”

“Precisely that. A spectral existence has no physical concept in the eternal now.” 

“That’s such bullshit.” You shake your head pleadingly, stepping around the couch towards him before you think better of it. “As we’ve both agreed – we’re both standing here. And you’ve felt the fire’s warmth on your skin, heard clear music – so, don’t tell me there isn’t anything physical in this moment.” You reach your hand out to his white shirt sleeve covered arm to prove your point.  

Your fingers connect with the fine fabric and solid forearm beneath, gasping as sapphire sparks burst into view and wink out with wispy trails of smoke. The scent of cedar and citrus fills your nose – and in that moment, you see everything. 

A life shrouded by the shadow of an older brother. A steadfast dedication to military service befitting a dutiful second son. A horrific world war that shatters the globe and leaves permanent scars. A forbidden, blossoming love in a snowy trench on an unexpectedly peaceful night that tragically, abruptly ends in a global pandemic. A destructive desire driving him to reunite with his beloved. 

And in that moment, when his eyes meet yours, his face blanches with the discovery of profound knowledge. As if he, too, sees everything in your life that led you to this moment as you stand with your hand on his arm somewhere between life and death. 

The breath punches from your chest as the images run through your mind and emotions boil within you. Your heart constricts yet threatens to burst, your stomach tightens with anxious knots yet lightens with hopeful anticipation. Your eyes see only him, blind to the rest of the world as you want to cling to him, to lose yourself in him, to have him lose himself inside you. 

Blood pulses through you, pooling low and needy as damp heat soaks your core. All at once, you realize how hard you’re breathing, stunned and reeling. 

You force a swallow as dizziness consumes you. “I don’t… I don’t know what’s happening.” 

He gives a slow, bewildered shake of his head, obviously just as speechless as he gasps for breath alongside you. With your mind awash in a sea of unfamiliar memories and new sensations, your hand trails up his forearm, almost disappointed that more sparks don’t appear. You raise your other hand to his chest, both exhaling long moans when you press your palm flat over the woolen waistcoat. A shower of deep blue sparks rain down around your hand as more of that intoxicating scent suffuses the air. 

You struggle for breath as a fresh wave of heat surges through you, touching the essence of your being. It extends beyond physical or emotional, as if… as if his spirit touches yours, speaking in a language that you don’t understand yet comprehend implicitly. And god, just listen to yourself, but your brain - and body - are truly too far gone to care. His warm, heavy hand falls against the small of your back, and you arch against the touch with a soft cry on your lips. 

Electricity jolts through you, driving you closer in his embrace, overwhelmed at the onslaught of sensation erupting from his touch. Everything about the moment compels you closer to him, each touch igniting more sparks and reaching some deep-rooted part of your soul that belongs only to him. 

Your lips fuse together in an intoxicating haze as that delicious scent wraps around you and sapphire light gleams beyond your closed eyelids. He can’t be close enough to you as tongues tangle and you cling to the solid, sturdy build of shoulders. His broad hands find your hips, pulling you flush against him - body to body, soul to soul. 

He needs to be closer - so much closer - and your hands tear at his tie, his vest, his shirt buttons. The heat of the fire is a distant memory compared to the scorching touch of his skin as your own clothing falls away with wisps of smoke and showers of sapphire starbursts. Everywhere he touches draws you helplessly towards him as he dissolves into you and pulls you down to the plush, thick rug in front of the fire. 

Your legs wrap around his waist with mindless instinct, driven only to connect with him in the most intimate way as your soul demands. Breath leaves you and sanity abandons you as he slides deep into your core, piercing your heart and soul as he buries himself in your heat. His groans drown against your lips as smoke and sparks shroud the frenzied rocking of his hips and he drives himself to fill you completely. 

Unrecognizable cries leave your lips, echoing in the void as you take everything he gives you and surrender yourself completely. The crescendo builds with unstoppable intensity as you claw at his back, tasting the salt on his neck and relishing the burn of his beard on your skin. A moan tears from you as you convulse around him, and a heavy force claws at the very essence of your being, shearing something inside you as euphoric ecstasy pulls you under. 

The deafening roar of his own release mixes with your deafening cry as blood pounds in your ears. Your vision swims in hazy light as your body drifts away from you, and you struggle to breathe under the gnawing sensation. His solid weight against you fades as darkness eats at the corners of your mind, and you feebly cling to him with all that you possess. 

His lips ghost against yours as your hands fall slack and thought abandons you completely. 

You blink awake, foggy headed and bleary eyed. Desperate to ignore the throbbing pain in your skull, you squint against the bright, invasive morning sunlight – Christmas morning sunlight – and don’t know what to think. Especially as you become aware of three things in quick succession.

One – the thick living room rug scratches and itches against your bare skin. A dark blue blanket covers you, surprisingly soft by contrast to the rug but completely unfamiliar to you. You grip it close, aware that it’s the only thing shielding your naked body from the clear windows. 

Two – you feel absolutely drained. As if you haven’t slept or eaten in days, or maybe both. Your minimal movements against the rug are sluggish and uncoordinated as you continue to wake up and come back to yourself. Quite obviously, whatever you experienced last night has taken a heavy toll. 

Three – you aren’t alone. A larger, broader, obviously nude and obviously male body presses against your backside as you lay against the uncomfortable carpet. You scrub a hand over your face, trying to wipe away the cobwebs and not disturb your slumbering bedmate. 

Good god, what had actually happened last night? With fleeting clarity, you remember the lightning-drenched living room, the uncanny golden chocolate eyes, and the scorching pleasure – but now faced with the cold light of dawn, has any of that actually been real? Or did you really just knock back one too many cocktails, pick up a guy, and lose yourself in delusional fantasy?

You groan, stretching against the carpet and catching a glimpse at your smartwatch. Fuck, it’s already so late. With another groan, dreading the inevitable awkwardness of saying goodbye to a one-nightstand that you don’t even clearly remember, you roll over and prepare to face your fate. 

You jump in surprise against the blanket, shocked to see two golden chocolate eyes blinking blearily back at you. Your heart pounds as you stare at Karl’s familiar features and bearded face as he lays beside you with dark swirls of his chest hair just visible above the blanket’s edge. 

You gape, unable to believe it. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

“Here?” He groans, looking back at you in equally growing confusion. “What is… why are you here?”

“Why am I here?” You parrot back, gripping the blanket close, hyper-aware of both your naked bodies beneath the navy fabric. “This is my house, and you’re the dead ghost, and…” Your words trail off as your mouth fails to keep up with your raging thoughts. Does this mean that you have died, too? Are you now condemned to stay in this house with him for eternity? 

A car horn blares outside the window, drawing your startled gaze. How does that make any sense? If you are dead, then why are you able to hear a car plain as day? You force a hard swallow as you try to think through the sluggish fog in your head. Maybe you aren’t dead, after all, but instead, maybe he is… does it make sense for him to be… alive? 

But, seriously… have you somehow fucked him back to life? However crass and ridiculous that sounds. Is that why those strange, sapphire sparks had ignited between you? Has your life force somehow rejuvenated his own...? 

Your head hurts too much for such mind-bending thoughts. Slowly, you turn back to him, catching his gaze as he studies you with equal bewilderment. His mouth pinches to a tight, hesitant line as he obviously considers a thought. 

Tentatively, he reaches a hand forward, brushing the back of his knuckles along your forearm. No blue sparks or blue glow emanate from his gentle caress, but a low, thrumming rhythm grows in your blood. You gasp as the beating pulse aligns with the cadence of your own heartbeat, reverberating in tandem harmony. “Is that…,” you ask in a breathless whisper, “your heartbeat?” 

His own breathing stutters as the contact lingers, and he twists his wrist to wrap his fingers around your forearm. “It’s your heartbeat, it has to be…” he whispers reverentially. “Mine stopped beating so long ago….” 

“Then, why are you here?” Heat sings in your veins as your body recognizes its missing half - the answer to make you whole, body and soul. 

He pulls his hand back, and the cloying sensations instantly dull. You’re still drained beyond comprehension and in serious need of sustenance, but whatever his touch has just ignited begins to fade without the sustained physical contact. 

Just what the fuck have you done? Are you somehow forever bound to him? And him to you? How would you ever know? And is that what you really want? What about the rest of your life? What about the rest of his life? At least, now that he seems to have one again…. 

He shakes his head, sighing heavily. “We may never know the answer. But before we start trying to figure it out,” his face softens as the corner of his mouth lifts. “I guess there’s only one thing to be said.” 

“Oh? And what’s that?” 

He fixes his golden chocolate eyes to yours, and… okay, maybe seeing those eyes every morning wouldn’t be so bad. A smile tugs at your mouth as you stare at him, hearing his accented words wrap around you and echo with the fading thrum of his twin heartbeat. “It’s not my holiday… but Merry Christmas, Liebling.”

#lieutenant horstmayer #karl friedrich horstmayer #daniel brühl x reader #daniel brühl fanfic #daniel brühl x you #daniel brühl #joyeux noël #joyeux noël 2005

[leftenantmackgordon]

Wings Over My Heart

Series Main List

A 1936 Things to Come film AU Gordon x Audebert (x Horstmayer)

Summary: World War rages from 1914 to 1940. The old States of the World-That-Was - Germany, France, United Kingdom - are now just pages of history. In the crumbling remains of societal ruin, a new order takes to the skies to rebuild humanity’s last hope. It’s what brings Mackenzie and Camille together under a banner of newfound peace and freedom. It’s what turns Karl’s life of brigandage and war upside down when Camille arrives without invitation. But at the end of it all, will each man find their way? 

Warnings: Explicit 18+ NSFW smut (including m/m anal sex), non-con sexual threats, non-con touching, explicit language, violence and graphic torture (including descriptions of thumb screws and flogging), dystopian re-imagining of WWI and aftermath, generous re-use of dialogue from the film, no need to have seen the film

Pt. I

Pt. II

Pt. III

Pt. IV

Pt. V

Word Count: 24k+

A/N: This one's been brewing for a while... I blame work. As always, @khorstmayer has been a dear with her kind feedback and beta'ing support on this fic! Again, no need to have seen the film, but if you have seen it, you'll recognize a fair bit here.

Cheers 'till next time, friends! 😊

#joyeux noël 2005 #joyeux noël #lieutenant horstmayer #lieutenant gordon #lieutenant audebert #horstmayer #gordon #audebert #camille rené audebert #mackenzie joseph gordon #karl friedrich horstmayer

[calimera62]

One thing I love in the Joyeux Noël movie is how French soldiers and German soldiers have their own name for the cat and “fight” over which name - between Nestor and Felix - is the cat’s true name and to win the cat’s attention.

Let’s imagine them bickering about the cat when a Scottish soldier interrupts them and says “Actually, the cat is named Charlie [or other popular cat name in Scotland]”

The bicker intensifies. 

#joyeux noël #joyeux noel #joyeux noel 2005

[supercalifragipopculturevomit]

FUCK, MARRY, KILL: Daniel Brühl Cinematic Universe Edition

Just for funsies. Don't have an aneurysm. Leaning towards Zemo, Laszlo, and Böse, in that order, at the moment. At some other point, I might have said Thomas Lang, Niki Lauda, and Erik Jan Hanussen.

Because of the 30-photo limitation, I removed his minor and/or underdeveloped roles and the ones that wouldn't be difficult to "kill". I also didn't include the ones I haven't seen, so you won't see Salvador on this list. p.s. if anyone has a copy/link to that movie with English subs, I'd be forever grateful!

Lukas, The White Sound (2001)

Daniel, No Regrets / Nichts Bereuen (2001)

Alexander Kerner, Good Bye, Lenin! (2003)

Paul Krantz, Love in Thoughts / Was nützt die Liebe in Gedanken (2004)

Jan, The Edukators / Die fetten Jahre sind vorbei (2004)

Andrea Marowski, Ladies in Lavender (2004)

Lieutenant Horstmayer, Merry Christmas / Joyeux Noël (2005)

Tonda, Krabat (2008)

Dr. Georg Rosen, John Rabe (2009)

István Thurzó, The Countess (2009)

Fredrick Zoller, Inglorious Basterds (2009)

David Kern, Lila, Lila (2009)

Hans Krämer, The Coming Days / Die kommenden Tage (2010)

Konrad Koch, Lessons of a Dream / Der ganz große Traum (2011)

Álex Garel, Eva (2011)

Iván Pelayo, Winning Streak / The Pelayos (2012)

Niki Lauda, Rush (2013)

Daniel Domscheit-Berg, The Fifth Estate (2013)

Thomas Lang, The Face of an Angel (2014)

Daniel, Colonia (2015)

Sebastian Zöllner, Me and Kaminski (2015)

Tony Balerdi, Burnt (2015)

Dr. Laszlo Kreizler, The Alienist (2018 - 2020)

Ernst Schmidt, The Cloverfield Paradox (2018)

Wilfried Böse, Entebbe (2018)

Thomas Fischer, My Zoe (2019)

Daniel Weltz, Next Door / Nebenan (2021)

Erik Jan Hanussen, The King's Man (2021)

Baron Helmut Zemo, Captain America: Civil War (2016) / The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (2021)

Matthias Erzberger, All Quiet on the Western Front (2022)

#daniel brühl #helmut zemo #the falcon and the winter soldier #laszlo kreizler #the alienist #fuck marry kill #baron zemo #tfatws #tony balerdi #niki lauda #Andrea Marowski #Sebastian Zöllner #Tonda #colonia #Daniel Wetltz #Thomas Lang #Fredrick Zoller #Konrad Koch #no regrets #alexander kerner #paul krantz #Álex Garel #Hans Krämer #the edukators #Joyeux Noël #Dr. Georg Rosen #István Thurzó #David Kern #The White Sound #Matthias Erzberger

[boardchairman-blog]

**Shots of the Movie**

Joyeux Noël (2005)

Director: Christian Carion Cinematographer: Walther Vanden Ende

#shots of the movie #joyeux noel #joyeux noel 2005 #christian carion #walther vanden ende #diane kruger #daniel brühl #benno furmann #gary lewis #steven robertson #wwi #christmas #christmas movie #xmas #2005 film #2000s cinema #2000s film #german film #cinematography #cinema #2000s #2000s movie #2005 in film #2005 #screencaps #screenshots

[gauloise-sans-filtre]

(It’s anon with movies!) i’m open to different genres except for horror movies and something too tooth-rotting romantic, and probably i’d like something made after 1990+!

Okay then, so I've had to remove a very big chunk out of the many romantic films in France. Below, a small list to see what you think about with no romance (except maybe a little bit for Amelie), as you wish and according to my tastes. You may know some of them, so let me know if you do, and if you liked them? I warn you that I'm not taking into account the controversy surrounding the directors. I'm only interested in the quality of the movies. I hope you'll find what you're looking for in this little panel. Normally, they are all available in english or with english subtitles.

But I have an objection the 90s were a good area for Luc Besson's action movies :

Nikita (La femme Nikita for the english speakers), Director Luc Besson

Léon (For english speakers Leon the professional), Director Luc Besson

Jeanne D'Arc (Joan of Arc for english speakers), Luc Besson

2000 : Harry, un ami qui vous veut du bien, director Dominic Moll

2000 : Le goût des autres (For english speakers Taste of others), director Agnès Jaoui

2001 : Le Fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain (Amelie for english speakers), Director : Jean Pierre Jeunet

2001 : La chambre des officiers, director François Dupeyron

2001, Le Pacte des loups, director Christophe Gans

2002 : L'auberge Espagnole, director : Cédric Klapisch

2002, Le Pianiste, director Roman Polanski

2002, Monsieur Batignole, director Gérard Jugnot

2003, Les Triplettes de Belleville, director Sylvain Chomet

2003, Swimming Pool, director François Ozon

2004 : Les Choristes (For english speakers The Chorus), director Christophe Barratier

2004, 36, Quai des Orfèvres, director Olivier Marchal

2005, Enfermés dehors, director Albert Dupontel

2005, Joyeux Noël, director Christian Carion

2005, De battre mon coeur s'est arrêté, director Jacques Audiar

2006, Ne le dis à personne, director Guillaume Canet

2006, Je vous salue Sarajevo, director Jean Luc Godard

2007, Le Scaphandre et le Papillon, director Julian Schnabel

2008, Mesrine instinct de mort (part 1), director Jean François Richet

2008, Mesrine ennemi public numéro 1, director Jean François Richet

2008 : Le premier jour du reste de ta vie, director Rémi Bezançon

2008 : Deux jours à tuer, Jean Becker

[doitinanotherlanguage]

Langblr Advent Calendar | 16 December 2022 | Joyeux Noël (2005; Merry Christmas), dir. Christian Carion

Country: France, Germany, UK, Belgium, Romania

Language: French, German, English

Genre: Historical Drama

Summary: In December 1914, an unofficial Christmas truce on the Western Front allows soldiers from opposing sides of the First World War to gain insight into each other’s way of life. A fictionalised account of true events that saw numerous sections of the Western Front calling an informal, and unauthorized, truce where the various front-line soldiers of the conflict peacefully met each other in No Man’s Land.

#anyway i remember when i first read about the football games they played and i legit cried #this movie and its basis in real events just underline how goddamn senseless and absurd war is #and the men who cause it and wage it are greedy and cowardly bastards (and i am NOT talking abt the soldiers here) #langblr #langblr advent calendar #french langblr #german langblr #learning french #learning german

[callmeanxietygirl]

#DanielBrühl💗💖Es conocido por películas como Good Bye, Lenin! 2003 , Los edukadores 2004 , Joyeux Noël 2005 , Inglourious Basterds 2009 , EVA 2011 , Rush 2013 , Colonia 2015 , la serie The Alienist 2018 y en el Universo cinematográfico de Marvel como Helmut Zemo en la película Capitán América: Civil War 2016 y en la miniserie The Falcon and The Winter Soldier 2021.Hijo de la profesora Marisa González Domingo y el director de teatro y televisión alemán Hanno Brühl se conocieron en su estancia en España y se mudaron a Alemania , donde tuvieron a su primer hijo. El 16 de junio de 1978 nació Daniel Brühl, en el barrio de Gracia de Barcelona.Aunque nació en Barcelona , tiene también la nacionalidad alemana , ya que su padre es de origen alemán y en su niñez se trasladó a Alemania , donde creció en la ciudad de Colonia , aunque todos los veranos volvieron a España. Muchos de esos veranos Daniel los pasó en Pratdip , en Tarragona. Desde pequeño es hincha del equipo español F. C. Barcelona y también es aficionado del equipo alemán F. C. Colonia.

De mayor , Daniel se enfrentó a su padre al comunicarle que quería ser actor , profesión que compaginaba con la de cantante de la banda Purge. De esta manera a finales de los años noventa participó en diversos títulos que le abrieron paso en el cine alemán.En 2001 inició el rodaje de Nichts bereuen , cuyo director sugirió el nombre de Jessica Schwarz para el principal papel femenino. Daniel se enfadó con la decisión porque la actriz era conocida por haber sido previamente la presentadora de un programa de televisión. Cuando la vio trabajar , se enamoró de ella y se convirtieron en novios. Rompieron su relación en 2010.

En 2002 incrementó su popularidad al protagonizar Vaya con Dios. Al año siguiente esa fama se incrementó al encabezar la plantilla de actores de la película Good Bye, Lenin! (Wolfgang Becker), una comedia en la que un joven (Alex) oculta a su madre recién despertada de un coma que el Muro de Berlín ha caído y con él todas las ideas en las que ella creía.Daniel ganó el premio al mejor actor de la Academia de Cine de Alemania. Meses más tarde cosechó el premio de la Academia de Cine Europeo, así como el galardón del público. Tras la ceremonia declaró su interés por trabajar con Julio Médem y Fernando León de Aranoa. Meses después acudió a la entrega de los Premios Sant Jordi. Por estas razones Daniel pasó a formar parte de la promoción Shooting Star de 2002, cuyo objetivo es promocionar a nuevos actores europeos.

En 2004 Daniel siguió apuntándose a películas de corte social como Los edukadores, en la que dio vida a un joven rebelde, que de forma coordinada junto con un compañero de piso penetraba en las casas de los ricos para desordenar sus valiosas pertenencias, dejándoles una nota con un mensaje social. La película que lo catapultó a la fama mundial fue 'Goodbye Lenin' en 2003, donde cautivó a todo la crítica y a todo el público europeo y mundial y ganó su primer premio, Premio del Cine Europeo. En 2006 participó en su primera película española, encarnando al anarquista Salvador Puig Antich en 'Salvador', papel que le otorgó varios premios y una nominación a 'Mejor Actor' en los Goya. Además, la película fue nominada en el Festival de Cannes a mejor película.

En 2006 tuvo un papel en la película de espías 'El ultimátum de Bourne' y en 2009, protagonizó 'Malditos Bastardos', estrenada en el festival de Cannes y dirigida por Quentin Tarantino , con la que logró numerosas nominaciones a diferentes premios y ganó 6 premios. Además , todo el elenco ganó el Screen Actors Guild Award a 'Mejor actuación'. En 2012 volvió a España para rodar 'Eva', junto a Marta Etura y Alberto Ammann, película en la que volvió a estar nominado a 'Mejor actor' en los Goya. En 2013 se metió en el papel del piloto de Fórmula 1 Niki Lauda en la película 'Rush', que , junto a Chris Hemsworth , consiguió 17 nominaciones a diferentes premios por su excelente interpretación y que ganó 2. En 2015 trabajó en 'La dama de oro' y en 2016 , participó en la película 'Capitán América: Civil War', introduciéndose en el universo de los cómics Marvel.

En 2017 protagonizó 'La casa de la esperanza' . También protagonizó la serie de televisión 'The Alienist'. Además, rodó 2 películas, 'the cloverfield parados' y '7 días en entebbe'.

#daniel brühl

[f1yogurt]

You're My Lifeline - Chapter 2

Minors DNI 18+

Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Lieutenant Gordon is surprised to encounter an imprisoned omega soldier. What will he do when faced with this unexpected discovery?

AO3 Link – YOU’RE MY LIFELINE – Link to my Fic Req Guide

Fandom: Joyeux Noël | Merry Christmas (2005)

Chapter Rating: Mature

Relationships: Karl Horstmayer / Camille Audebert / Mackenzie Gordon (Joyeux Noël)

Chapter Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Whump, WWI, Imprisonment

Chapter Warnings: Minor Injuries, Whump, Cursing

Word Count: 4.1k

Lieutenant Mackenzie Gordon was making his rounds in the trenches. The Lieutenant, known simply as Gordon to many, was a formidable figure among both the French and Scottish allied forces. Mackenzie had been ordered to oversee operations concerning prisoners of war, which naturally gave him an aura of authority. Gordon was a wonderful leader, strong and competent when he needed to be. However, he had a soft side that wasn’t often shown to his comrades.

As Mack made his way through the trenches, he smiled to himself, thinking about his farm back home in Scotland. The sprawling fields and the big, fluffy sheepdog that made the place feel like home… Oh, how he wished to be out of this war so that he could return to his beloved homeland to enjoy the simple pleasures of living again.

Gordon didn’t have much time for reminiscing, however, because he was suddenly broken out of his daydreaming. The sounds of shouting pierced the fog of his thoughts.

“Out of the way, out of the way, idiots! We must get through!” Gordon heard annoyed protests from soldiers down the line of the trench. The voices were speaking in French, and he immediately recognized the shouting men as his appointed POW guards. His suspicions were confirmed as the two guards came into view, their uniforms distinctly French and adorned with the small uniform patch that all alpha officers wore.

“Lieutenant, sir!” the men said in unison, giving a sharp salute to Gordon. Mackenzie nodded in acknowledgement, wondering why they had come all the way out here to fetch him.

“Well, men, how goes it in the Hole?” Gordon asked. The soldiers all called the small POW containment area the Hole for obvious reasons, as it was a dark and forbidding tunnel underground. The two guards glanced briefly at each other in worry before answering.

“It is the boche, sir,” Pierre, the larger guard, said. “He is being combative. Difficult. Not only this, but we… We discovered something else. Something we thought that we should tell you.” Gordon frowned, wondering what could have possibly happened. His guards had never come to him for help with a prisoner before.

“Well, lay it on me then, lads,” he encouraged when the guards didn’t speak. After a moment of trepidation, one of them finally answered.

“What we have in there is no ordinary German Oberleutnant,” Alden, the shorter guard, said. “This one is an omega.” Gordon’s eyes widened in shock. An omega soldier? A German omega soldier? What was he even doing here fighting in the war?

“An omega soldier? Hang on a second, boys,” Gordon said, stepping closer and lowering his voice to a whisper. “Right, an omega is a surprise to be discovered here, but what could possibly require you to come out all this way for my help?”

“He is going into heat,” Pierre said, his voice taking on a lecherous tone. “Soon.” Suddenly, Gordon saw everything clearly. His alpha guards had no doubt put the Oberleutnant through hell as soon as they had discovered his omega identity. Even unconsciously, their alpha instincts would drive them to be more aggressive and combative towards an enemy omega. Christ, Gordon hoped that they hadn’t done anything more than get a little aggressive with the man.

“We would have dealt with this situation accordingly, Lieutenant, although this omega is being particularly difficult. The two of us presumed that you would be able to handle him better than us,” Pierre said, nodding to his alpha comrade in agreement.

“Besides, we know you have a reputation for… getting things done,” he said in a lecherous tone. Of course, Gordon knew that he had a reputation. After all, he was one of the few betas who were officers dealing with POWs. This gave him a unique advantage when interrogating prisoners, because they trusted him more due to his beta nature.

Naturally, all of the alpha soldiers who had never witnessed Gordon’s actual interrogations only thought that Mack was able to get answers from prisoners through sexual coercion. In reality, Gordon was kind and logical, and he always offered some kind of bargain to the soldiers that resulted in a trade of information. Nevertheless, he did nothing to spoil his alleged “reputation,” lest the alpha soldiers start viewing him as weak.

“Yes, well,” Gordon said, nodding to the two men. “Right then, boys. Why don’t you introduce me to this German omega?”

—

Mack followed the guards all the way down to the Hole and squeezed himself through the foreboding tunnel that led to the prison cell. The underground space was an offshoot in the trenches, and candles had been placed sparingly along the tunnel to offer the only source of light.

As they finally approached the cell, Gordon found himself hoping not to be presented with evidence of a very malnourished and mistreated omega. Unfortunately, though, he was proved wrong. To make matters worse, the guards decided to start taunting again.

“Here he is, Lieutenant,” Pierre said, opening the door of the cell and gesturing for Mackenzie to step inside. Gordon wasn’t sure what he had expected, but it definitely had not been this. He had been picturing the German omega to be small and meek looking. However, this man was entirely the opposite.

The omega soldier had been huddled in the corner of the cell, although when the guards had approached, he had struggled to stand up. As the man stood, Gordon realized that there was a hidden strength beneath the layers of the German’s uniform and trench coat. The omega also had the most mesmerizing eyes, a pair of fiery brown orbs that gazed intensely at the guards. Obviously, this was not a man to be trifled with.

Despite all of this, Gordon saw the indicative signs of the omega’s heat. The German was now leaning unsteadily against the wall despite his attempt to project strength. The omega’s skin was covered in a light sheen of sweat, and his cheeks were slightly flushed. He looked almost feverish, and Gordon knew he had to be in pain, if not from the wounds he had sustained then from the desperate ache for an alpha to stave off his heat.

“This is Karl Horstmayer, Lieutenant,” Pierre said, raising his eyebrows suggestively at Gordon. Mackenzie watched as the German, Horstmayer, glared darkly at the guard. The omega positioned himself in a defensive stance as Pierre crowded him against the wall.

“Pretty omega, I brought the renowned Lieutenant with me this time,” Pierre said, stepping towards Karl. “There is no telling what he will do with you now.” Gordon could practically smell the omega’s pheromones running wild with barely-disguised fear, and the two alphas in the room were responding to it. Gordon needed to intervene quickly if he was to prevent a fight.

“Boys, that’s enough!” Mackenzie called, using his most authoritative voice. “Come on, lads. Leave him to me now. Go and resume your duties elsewhere. I have everything under control.” Mackenzie watched carefully as Pierre stepped away from Karl, leaving the German alone.

“As you command, Lieutenant,” the guard said, nodding in deference to Mackenzie. The two guards saluted, then began their march away down the corridor. Gordon turned back to look at the poor German they had left behind.

The omega, Karl, slumped further against the wall in relief after the guards left, although he remained alert and refused to let down his own defenses. He probably assumed that Gordon was an alpha. Mackenzie decided to approach this situation with care.

“Do not come any closer,” Horstmayer growled, his glare focused on Mackenzie as the Scotsman continued walking slowly forward. “If you think you can treat me like some poor helpless omega, then you are wrong.” Gordon slowly raised his hands in a gesture of peace.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, taking one more small step towards Horstmayer. “Trust me, lad, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.” Before Mackenzie could react, the omega had sprung off the wall and wrapped his arm around Gordon’s throat, pinning him in a headlock. Gordon found himself shoved against the wall, and he was surprised at the omega’s display of strength.

“Why should I believe you?” Karl spat, his voice shaking out of fear and anger. “I have no reason to trust you. You are just another one of them, here to hurt me and manipulate me. You…” Karl’s words trailed off as he realized that Mackenzie wasn’t struggling. Gordon waited as the omega was able to inhale his beta pheromones, marking his presence as definitely not an alpha.

Mackenzie felt Karl’s grip slacken in surprise, and he waited patiently (and painfully) as the omega nuzzled his neck to ensure that he wasn’t just imagining the scent. Mackenzie finally was able to breathe again as Karl released him from the headlock, and the Scotsman coughed, gingerly rubbing his sore neck as he recovered.

“Oh, you are a beta,” he heard the German say softly. It was such a simple statement, and yet it held an enormous amount of gravity.

“Yes, thank you very much, my good friend,” Mackenzie said sarcastically through his coughing fit. “Very good of you to tell me what I’ve only been trying to show you this whole time.” On the positive side, the omega’s strength was a reassuring sign that his heat hadn’t begun yet, and Gordon was thankful for small blessings.

“Yes, I am a beta,” the Scotsman said again,” straightening to gaze at Karl again. “I told you that I wasn’t going to hurt you. And what did that earn me? A stranglehold for my good efforts.” Karl scoffed at Gordon’s lighthearted tone, and the German gave Mackenzie a once over, his gaze hard and skeptical.

“Still, why should I trust you?” he asked accusingly. “You may be a beta, but you are still my enemy.” Now, it was Mackenzie’s turn to scoff.

“Well, it doesn’t look like you have many options right now, my German friend,” Gordon said, gesturing to Karl’s general state. The omega was still looking feverish and unwell, despite his attempts to project otherwise. It was obvious that his heat would overtake him soon, and Mackenzie couldn’t imagine how uncomfortable that would be. Not to mention the black eye and multiple other wounds the omega was dealing with.

“I am fine,” Karl protested through clenched teeth, using the sleeve of his trench coat to wipe the accumulating sweat off of his brow. Gordon could see him trembling slightly where he was leaning against the wall, which wasn’t helping his image at all.

“Lad, you’re obviously not alright,” Mackenzie said gently, not wanting to provoke the omega. “It’s as clear as day that you’re in a bit of a predicament. Trust me, I know.” Gordon stepped closer, placing a comforting hand on Karl’s shoulder. The omega stiffened, but he didn’t pull away.

“I am offering my help to you, dear stoic omega Karl Horstmayer,” Gordon said softly. “If you would like my help, then I would be glad to escort you out of this hellhole and to a safe place where someone I know will make your heat infinitely more bearable. However, if you would prefer to remain here and refuse my help, then I will allow my superiors to deal with you in their own way. I am sorry, there are not many options. But I do want to help you.”

It was as if the barriers that Karl had built up were suddenly torn down, and he finally allowed himself to relax against the Scotsman. Gordon felt a pang in his heart at seeing the pitifully exhausted expression on the omega’s face. Clearly, he was ready to get out of here.

“Yes, yes I trust you, beta,” Horstmayer said, his deep chocolate eyes gazing into Gordon’s bright blue ones. The omega hesitantly leaned in and nuzzled Mackenzie’s neck in an affectionate gesture, something that pleasantly surprised Gordon. For the first time, he felt a stirring of attraction towards the German.

“I… my heat will be here soon,” Karl said, his words spoken softly into Mackenzie’s neck. “I have not had one for many years. My suppressants ran out on the front, and, well, now there is no way to stop it.” Gordon hummed in acknowledgement.

“It’s alright, my friend,” Mackenzie soothed, wrapping his arms around the other man in a hugging gesture. Karl eagerly accepted this close contact, and Gordon felt the omega clutch at the fabric of his coat. It was such an intimate position, and Gordon inhaled the omega’s heady pheromones, feeling suddenly very protective over Horstmayer.

He gently pushed Karl back against the wall, forcing the omega to look him in the eye. Karl went willingly, and Gordon saw a flash of desire at the slight display of control. Mackenzie took a deep breath and tried to steel himself, forcing down this newfound attraction to the omega. He was determined to wait until he could ensure that the German was safe and healthy before he tried to figure out what his own feelings were.

“I need you to trust me, alright?” Mack said, quickly thinking about the possibilities of the next course of action. Ah, yes, to the house of the man who could help Karl. Gordon knew Cami would always accept an omega in need, but this… this was something else entirely. Would his alpha even want to converse with an enemy? It was worth the risk.

“Alright, omega, stay close to me, and don’t cause any trouble,” Gordon said, giving Karl a teasing wink. “You’ll be safe soon.” Without thinking, the Scotsman leaned forward and gave a little nip to Karl’s jaw, causing the omega to let out a soft moan. Horstmayer was already keyed up from his heat, and Gordon was hoping to trigger just a little bit more obedience and relaxation before they went into unfamiliar territory. He couldn’t have a jumpy omega attracting attention.

“Beta, I will obey, I promise,” Karl said earnestly, all of the fear gone from his eyes. “Bitte, just take me somewhere safe with you. I will do anything you ask.” Gordon felt himself shiver involuntarily at the submissive words. Oh, Camille was going to love this one.

“Good, omega,” he encouraged, glad that Horstmayer was beginning to open up. “I know a man in the city who is able to help. He is very kind, and you will just have to trust me. I promise, everything will be alright. We will tend to your injuries and get some food into you, but first you must follow me carefully.” Gordon tugged open the cell door once again and gestured for Karl to follow him.

“Come, my friend. I know a place we can go.”

#joyeux noël #joyeux noel #joyeux noel fanfiction #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #daniel bruhl fanfiction #lieutenant horstmayer #lieutenant gordon #lieutenant audebert #karl horstmayer #my fanfic #fanfic

[1917-ao3feed]

It’s Easier Not To Go Back

by Darth_Cannizard

Someone calls out to Schofield and Blake from the small grove they pass on their way towards Ecoust and this changes their fate in a significant manner.

Words: 1266, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: 1917 (Movie 2019), Joyeux Noël | Merry Christmas (2005)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Tom Blake, William Schofield, Lt Audebert (Joyeux Noël), Lt Horstmayer (Joyeux Noël)

Relationships: Tom Blake/William Schofield, Lt Audebert/Lt Horstmayer (Joyeux Noël)

Additional Tags: Crossover, World War I, Horstebert, Supernatural Elements, Fix-It, Tom Blake Lives, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

2024-01-20T23:16:42.000Z2023-12-30T23:12:12.000Z

[lidensword]

Illustrating a part of the script of the movie Joyeux Noël :)

#I just added a French soldier because... well. why not? :) #Joyeux Noël 2005 #Joyeux Noël script #pity they didn't leave it in the movie... :( #soldiers fraternising #Oskar is there!! just saying #they own my heart <3 #Christmas Truce of 1914 #WWI #my drawings

[roman-alfonso-godoy-videla]

Daniel César Martín Brühl González (Barcelona, 16 de junio de 1978),[1] más conocido como Daniel Brühl, es un actor hispanoalemán.[2] Es conocido por películas como Good Bye, Lenin! (2003), Los edukadores (2004), Joyeux Noël (2005), Inglourious Basterds (2009), EVA (2011), Rush (2013), Colonia (2015), la serie The Alienist (2018) y en el Universo cinematográfico de Marvel como Helmut Zemo en la película Capitán América: Civil War (2016) y en la miniserie The Falcon and The Winter Soldier (2021).

[leftenantmackgordon]

Wings Over My Heart - Pt. I

A 1936 Things to Come film AU Gordon x Audebert (x Horstmayer)

Series Main List

Warnings: Explicit 18+ NSFW smut (including m/m anal sex), dystopian re-imagining of WWI and aftermath, no need to have seen film

Word Count: 1.5k

Pt. I -

“Permission to land on Runway 3-2-7. Maintain your present course.” 

Gordon held position, adjusting the stick as he sighted the runway. “Copy, 3-2-7.”

“Welcome back, Major Gordon.” 

Even ten years later, the surreal moments still strike him. How he had found hope just when the world seemed lost. How he’d been pulled from a muddy trench, cleaned up, and trained as an aviator. How a group of men had preserved with a peaceful vision for the future after decades of endless warfare and brutality. 

No one ever imagined that war would rage in the ceaseless destruction of humanity from 1914 to 1940, but here the world is. Gordon knows nothing but a world of constant war, and while he has vague memories of life in the World-That-Was back in his younger years, they pale in comparison to life as he now knows it. 

He angles the nose of his airplane as he makes his final approach and descent for landing. His wheels touch down on the pavement, and the brakes slow his forward momentum. Following the guiding lights, he pilots his craft to the waiting hangar and ground crew. Small fingers of sunlight rise in the eastern sky as he kills the engine and unstraps his harness. Stepping out of his black, streamlined aircraft, he pulls off his helmet. 

“Good morning, major.” The crew chief greets him. “Another good patrol?” 

“Quite encouraging.” Gordon confirms. “Our efforts on the Italian peninsula appear to be taking hold, and if the council agrees with the squadron’s report, then we’re ready to scout the regions northward.” 

“Very encouraging indeed, sir.” The chief nods at Gordon before looking up at the airplane. “Any issues with the machine?”

“None at all. Your men do a fine job.” 

“Well, it’s a fine design.” 

Gordon feels his mouth pull to a small smile. “Everything here is.” He nods in farewell before he turns to fall in line with the rest of his squadron mates. Fatigue tugs at the corners of his mind, but he needs to file his report. Progress of rebuilding the world doesn’t stop in the face of one’s exhaustion, and Gordon knows that while he sleeps, another squadron will take to the skies. 

Camille’s squadron, in fact. 

The thought of his beloved sustains him through the post-scouting-mission debrief. As he finally trudges down the brightly lit corridor towards their shared quarters, he can’t help but wonder if Camille’s squadron will use the intelligence gathered during his patrol to implement next steps. 

With a press of his hand to scan his fingerprints, the door opens and his eyes adjust to the darkened interior. Artificial light may keep the main interior of their complex lit to support the 24/7 efforts of societal restoration, but it’s 0534 in the morning, and Camille still sleeps.  

Gordon sheds his sharp, all-black flight uniform before stepping into the hydrosonic shower. At first, his arrival here had been such a shock. While the rest of the world devolved into violence and barbarism, here was a society with scientific purpose united by a determination to improve man’s fate instead of destroy it. The innovations at the Basra headquarters proved endlessly captivating - from the new fleets of airplanes to non-metallic construction materials to clean energy generation - even stretching so far as to break down previously-conceived cultural norms. It’s what allows him to live freely with Camille at his side for the rest of his days. 

The vibrating water cleans the sweat and petrol fumes from his skin before he reaches for a towel. After stepping into soft shorts and brushing his teeth, he’s careful to turn the light off before opening the door back to the bedroom. Despite the sweltering heat of Basra, the conditioned air keeps their quarters more than comfortable, and he never takes issue when curling up next to Camille. 

The Frenchman’s hair is soft and mussed from sleep as Gordon breathes him in. He presses gentle kisses along Camille’s nape as he drapes an arm around the younger man’s shirtless midsection. 

Camille sighs in drowsy contentment as his fingers interlace with Gordon’s beneath the covers. “Good scouting mission, mon amour?” 

Gordon hums sleepily as he relaxes against the soft mattress. “You should still be asleep, love.” 

Camille chuckles low in his throat. “I never sleep soundly when you’re away.”  

“Good thing my squadron is only on this rotation for another six days.” 

Camille groans in frustration as he rolls in Gordon’s arms, and Gordon lays back against the bed to welcome the taller man nuzzling kisses into his neck. A sleepy smile tugs at Gordon’s mouth. Despite all that they see and do, despite all the talk of forward progress, these quiet moments with Camille are his favorite time of day. Here, they don’t have to be Major Gordon and Commandant Audebert. Here, they’re just Mackenzie and Camille. 

He nuzzles Camille’s brow and basks in the comforting weight of his beloved. “You should sleep, love.” He says softly. “You only have an hour until you need to prepare for your rotation.” 

“I know,” Camille confirms. 

“Do you know where your squadron is headed?” 

“North, last I heard. Continuing to establish contact in regions of former Germany.” 

Gordon hums gently. “Slowly but surely, expanding the New Rule of the Airmen.” 

“And a New Life for Mankind.” Camille finishes the motto, drifting more kisses along the column of Gordon’s neck. “A new life that I found here with you. A new life that we share together.” 

Gordon ducks his head to meet Camille’s kiss. It’s everything he ever wants as they linger in the intimate contact, basking in the reassuring touch of each other’s lips. Gordon lets his jaw relax as Camille leans into the kiss, and their tongues meet. Heat licks down Gordon’s spine as his cock hardens, groaning when Camille’s hand finds him over the fabric of his shorts. 

He rolls his hips to chase Camille’s touch, stirring a delicious moan from the Frechman. Gordon smiles into the kiss as Camille shifts to lay atop him, grinding their burgeoning erections together. The perfect friction shoots sparks through Gordon’s veins as he arches up into the taller man. “God, Cami….” His hand settles to Camille’s hip to hold him so close. 

Camille rocks his hips again with a shuddering exhale against Gordon’s lips. “I know you’re tired, mon amour. But I’ve had more than enough rest.” 

Any other words are downed by the firm intensity of Gordon’s kiss as they lose themselves in rising pleasure. Shifting his weight to brace on a forearm, Camille lifts just enough to slide his shorts down and work at Gordon’s. The bare length of their cocks brush together, and Gordon hisses through his teeth and tightens his grip on Camille’s hip. It’s been too long since they last took a moment for themselves, and he already feels on the edge of combustion, not helped by his exhaustion. 

It certainly doesn’t help when Camille shifts his hips and takes Gordon in hand before surprisingly, easily welcoming him into his body. Gordon's mind spins, dizzy with rushing pleasure when he realizes the loose, slick stretch of Camille’s muscle meant that the younger man had already prepared for this moment. With a pleasured cry, Gordon’s head falls back against the pillow, and he loses himself in the enveloping heat of Camille’s body. 

Camille groans, low and debauched, as he lifts up before sinking back down. “I’ve got you, mon amour. Let go for me.”

Gordon groans as he meets Camille’s thrusts, delighting in his soft gasps. “Fuck, Cami….” 

Camille whimpers, chasing his pleasure as Gordon’s cock fills him over and over. They push and pull at all the skin they can reach as they move together, never wanting to let the other go.  Their burning connection feels like heaven as they crest the peak, Camille’s release splashing hot on Gordon’s belly while his own seed plants deep inside his lover.

Heedless of the mess, Camille slumps forward to meet Gordon in a sated, languid kiss. Neither of them wants to rise, content to stay in this breathless, euphoric moment as they drift on the edge of bliss. Gordon cradles Camille close, brushing kisses along his brow as he sighs with bone-deep satisfaction. “You’re going to be the death of me someday, you know.” He whispers. “Surprising me like that. Bloody hell, Cami.” He pauses to press a lingering kiss. “Just the thought of you in our bed, stretching yourself for me… makes me wish I were ten years younger.”   

Camille chuckles gently. “Neither of us are as young as we used to be. And ten years ago… none of this would have been here, and I wouldn’t have met you.” 

Gordon’s arms tighten around Camille’s back to hold him closer. “I like to think that - somehow, somewhere - we still would have found each other.” 

The younger man smiles against Gordon’s skin as he brushes a lazy kiss. “That is indeed a nice thought. And a perfect way to start the day.” 

“A perfect way to fall asleep, you mean.” Gordon draws him up for a kiss as his eyelids grow heavy. “I look forward to having more time in six days from now.” 

Camille’s eyes sparkle in the low light as his smile grows. “Me too, mon amour.” He lingers in one last gentle, affirming kiss. “Pleasant dreams, and I’ll be here when you wake.” 

#joyeux noël 2005 #joyeux noël #lieutenant horstmayer #lieutenant gordon #lieutenant audebert #horstmayer #gordon #audebert #karl friedrich horstmayer #mackenzie joseph gordon #camille rené audebert

[alexlacquemanne]

Décembre MMXXIII

Films

Chef (2014) de Jon Favreau avec Scarlett Johansson, Jon Favreau, Sofía Vergara, Emjay Anthony, John Leguizamo, Robert Downey Jr. et Dustin Hoffman

Y a-t-il un flic pour sauver Hollywood ? (The Naked gun 33⅓: The Final Insult) (1994) de Peter Segal avec Leslie Nielsen, Priscilla Presley, George Kennedy, Fred Ward, O. J. Simpson, Anna Nicole Smith, Kathleen Freeman, Ellen Greene et Ed Williams

Quai des Orfèvres (1947) de Henri-Georges Clouzot avec Louis Jouvet, Simone Renant, Bernard Blier, Suzy Delair, Pierre Larquey, Claudine Dupuis, Henri Arius, Charles Blavette, René Blancard et Robert Dalban

Maintenant, on l'appelle Plata (…più forte ragazzi!) (1972) de Giuseppe Colizzi avec Terence Hill, Bud Spencer, Cyril Cusack, Reinhard Kolldehoff, Riccardo Pizzuti, Ferdinando Murolo et Marcello Verziera

Moi, Michel G., milliardaire, maître du monde (2011) de Stéphane Kazandjian avec François-Xavier Demaison, Laurent Lafitte, Laurence Arné, Xavier de Guillebon, Guy Bedos, Patrick Bouchitey e Alain Doutey

Noël blanc (White Christmas) (1954) de Michael Curtiz avec Bing Crosby, Danny Kaye, Rosemary Clooney, Vera Ellen, Dean Jagger, Mary Wickes et John Bascia

Rendez-vous avec la mort (Appointment with Death) (1988) de Michael Winner avec Peter Ustinov, Lauren Bacall, Carrie Fisher, John Gielgud, Piper Laurie, Hayley Mills, Jenny Seagrove et David Soul

Bridget Jones : L’Âge de raison (Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason) (2004) de Beeban Kidron avec Renée Zellweger, Colin Firth, Hugh Grant, Gemma Jones, Jim Broadbent, Jacinda Barrett, Shirley Henderson et Sally Phillips

Les Trois Mousquetaires : Milady (2023) de Martin Bourboulon avec François Civil, Vincent Cassel, Romain Duris, Pio Marmaï, Eva Green, Lyna Khoudri et Louis Garrel

Y a-t-il un flic pour sauver le président ? (1991) (The Naked Gun 2½: The Smell of Fear) de David Zucker avec Leslie Nielsen, Priscilla Presley, George Kennedy, O. J. Simpson, Robert Goulet, Richard Griffiths, Anthony James et Jacqueline Brookes

Wallace et Gromit : Le Mystère du lapin-garou (Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit) (2005) de Nick Park et Steve Box avec Jean-Loup Horwitz, Jeanne Savary, Philippe Catoire, Frédérique Cantrel, Patrick Messe et Mireille Delcroix

Rivière sans retour (River of No Return) (1954) de Otto Preminger avec Robert Mitchum, Marilyn Monroe, Rory Calhoun, Tommy Rettig, Murvyn Vye et Douglas Spencer

L'Ange de Noël (Christmas Magic) (2011) de John Bradshaw avec Lindy Booth, Paul McGillion, Derek McGrath, Kiara Glasco, Teresa Pavlinek et Tricia Braun

Joyeux Noël (2005) de Christian Carion avec Benno Fürmann, Guillaume Canet, Diane Kruger, Gary Lewis, Daniel Brühl, Dany Boon, Lucas Belvaux, Bernard Le Coq et Alex Ferns

L'Assassinat du père Noël (1941) de Christian-Jaque avec Harry Baur, Raymond Rouleau, Renée Faure, Marie-Hélène Dasté, Robert Le Vigan, Fernand Ledoux et Jean Brochard

Danse avec les loups (Dances with Wolves) (1990) de et avec Kevin Costner ainsi que Mary McDonnell, Graham Greene, Rodney A. Grant, Floyd Westerman, Jimmy Herman, Nathan Lee, Tantoo Cardinal et Wes Studi

Noël en trois actes (Christmas Encore) (2017) de Bradley Walsh avec Maggie Lawson, Brennan Elliott, Art Hindle, Tracey Hoyt, Mercedes de la Zerda, Mika Amonsen, Sherry Miller, Sabryn Rock, David Tompa et Erin Agostino

La Souffleuse de verre (Die Glasbläserin) (2016) de Christiane Balthasar avec Luise Heyer, Maria Ehrich, Franz Dinda, Dirk Borchardt, Robert Gwisdek, Max Hopp et Ute Willing

Le père Noël est une ordure (1982) de Jean-Marie Poiré avec Anémone, Thierry Lhermitte, Gérard Jugnot, Marie-Anne Chazel, Christian Clavier, Josiane Balasko et Bruno Moynot

Le Lion en hiver (The Lion in Winter) (1968) de Anthony Harvey avec Peter O'Toole, Katharine Hepburn, Anthony Hopkins, John Castle, Nigel Terry, Timothy Dalton, Jane Merrow et Nigel Stock

Les Mystères de Paris (1962) d'André Hunebelle avec Jean Marais, Raymond Pellegrin, Jill Haworth, Dany Robin, Pierre Mondy, Georges Chamarat, Noël Roquevert et Jean Le Poulain

Derrick contre Superman (1992) de Michel Hazanavicius et Dominique Mézerette avec Patrick Burgel et Évelyne Grandjean

La Classe américaine : Le Grand Détournement (1993) de Michel Hazanavicius et Dominique Mézerette avec Christine Delaroche, Evelyne Grandjean, Marc Cassot, Patrick Guillemin, Raymond Loyer, Joël Martineau, Jean-Claude Montalban, Roger Rudel et Gérard Rouzier

La Grande Course autour du monde (The Great Race) (1965) de Blake Edwards avec Tony Curtis, Natalie Wood, Jack Lemmon, Peter Falk, Keenan Wynn, Arthur O'Connell, Vivian Vance et Dorothy Provine

Séries

Life on Mars Saison 1, 2

Bienvenue en 73 - La Loi selon mon boss - Le Pari - Corruption - Rouge un jour, rouge toujours - Compte à rebours - Cas de conscience - Mon père - Meurtrier en puissance - La Chasse aux ripoux - Peur sur la ville - Pièges pour jeunes femmes - Kidnapping - Héroïne - Recherche du coupable - La Promesse

Doctor Who

La Créature Stellaire - Wild Blue Yonder - Aux confins de l'univers - Le Fabricant de Jouets - The Snowmen - A Christmas Carol - The Doctor, the Widow and the Wardrobe - The Return of Doctor Mysterio - The Church on Ruby Road - Eve of the Daleks

Les Enquêtes de Vera Saison 12

À contre-courant - Un homme d'honneur - Au nom de la loi - Une soirée funeste - Marée montante

Coffre à Catch

#144 : La Draft 2009 : Les bonnes affaires du mercato ! - #145 : La ECW débarque à Londres et l'Undertaker à Strasbourg! (avec Carole) - #146 : Christian enfin champion de la ECW ! - #147 : Un coffret à Noël, ça c'est une idée !

Kaamelott Livre III

Le Jour d’Alexandre - La Cassette II - La Ronde II - Mission - La Baliste - La Baraka - La Veillée - Le Tourment III - La Potion de fécondité II - L’Attaque nocturne - La Restriction II - Les Défis de Merlin II - Saponides et Détergents - Le Justicier - La Crypte maléfique - Arthur in Love II - La Grande Bataille - La Fête de l’hiver II - Sous les verrous II - Le Vulgarisateur - Witness - Le Tribut - Le Culte secret - Le Mangonneau - La Chevalerie - Le Mauvais Augure - Raison d’argent II - Les Auditeurs libres - Le Baiser romain - L’Espion - Alone in the Dark - Le Législateur - L’Insomniaque - L’Étudiant - Le Médiateur - Le Trophée - Hollow Man - La Dispute première partie - La Dispute deuxième partie

Affaires sensibles

Gérald Thomassin : l'étrange disparition d'un coupable idéal

Top Gear

Spécial Nativité

La Voie Jackson

Episode 1 - Episode 2 - Episode 3

Meurtres au paradis

L'étrange Noël de Debbie

Spectacles

Le Muguet de Noël (2021) de Sébastien Blanc et Nicolas Poiret avec Lionnel Astier, Frédéric Bouraly, Jean-Luc Porraz et Alexie Ribes

Sinatra (1969) avec Frank Sinatra, Don Costa & son Orchestre

Le Professeur Rollin a encore quelque chose à dire (2003) de François Rollin

Alain Souchon : J'veux du live au Casino de Paris (2002)

La Bonne Planque (1964) de Michel André avec Bourvil, Pierrette Bruno, Robert Rollis, Roland Bailly, Alix Mahieux, Albert Michel et Max Desrau

André Rieu : White Christmas (2023)

Michael Bublé: Home for Christmas (2011) avec Michael Bublé, Gary Barlow, Gino D'Acampo, Dawn French et Kelly Rowland

Michael Buble's Christmas in the City (2021) avec Michael Bublé, Leon Bridges, Camila Cabello, Jimmy Fallon, Kermit the Frog, Hannah Waddingham, Dallas Grant, Jarrett Johnson, Julianna Layne et Loren Smith

Michael Bublé's 3rd Annual Christmas Special (2013) avec Michael Bublé, Mary J. Blige, Mariah Carey, Red Robinson, Jumaane Smith, Patrick Gilmore et Cookie Monster

Un fil à la patte (2005) de Georges Feydeau avec Thierry Beccaro, Marie-Ange Nardi, Valérie Maurice, Églantine Éméyé, Ève Ruggiéri, Tex, David Martin et Patrice Laffont

Vintage Getz (1983) The Stan Getz Quartet live at the Robert Mondavi Winery, Napa Valley, California avec Stan Getz, Victor Lewis, Marc Johnson et Jim McNeely

James Brown : Live at Montreux (1981)

Livres

Le seigneur des anneaux, Tome 3 : Le retour du roi de J.R.R. Tolkien

Détective Conan, Tome 18 de Gôshô Aoyama

Lucky Luke, Tome 27 : L'Alibi de Morris et Claude Guylouïs

Détective Conan, Tome 19 de Gôshô Aoyama

#mediatheque #décembre23