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thegothicviking · 3 years ago

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Forgot I wrote this!!!

(found it on my facebook of all things!)

I picture the Rammstein reality show (think Big Brother style) to go down something like this:

We all know that Bitchard (sorry...Richard) would be kept the longest or actually win the whole thing because he would be the most overly dramatic diva in the house/ at the show (and thus also the most entertaining). Richard would mostly be seen by the camera installed in the garden/outside area by the outdoor table, as he would be smoking alot. (Whenever not smoking) Richard would annoy the heck out of the other members because he would paint his finger nails, anywhere else BUT in the bathroom, causing a chemical stench to spread in the entire house. He would also take long showers and take over the hot tub and not share it with the others. Richard would complain about everything. Nothing will be good enough and during tasks and competitions he would always be too tired or "too injured" to really participate. Richard would constantly say that he will leave "becauz thiz iz so dumb!?" but he never actually does. And in the "confession box" he would admit that “ Like....!!! The others don’t really get him?? Ya know!?!?” The viewers would keep him in for a long time because they love the drama he brings to the house!

Till & Flake (together): would probably be kept for a while as well because they would have this disfunctional on-and-off "relationship" and would fight and then make up again all the time and people love to see that shit too.

Schneider: would sometimes play his trumpet to try and stop Richard from nagging and complaining (this of course causing Richard to bitch and complain even more but Schneider doesn’t give a fuck and thinks this is funny! Especially waking up Richard with the trumpet, when Reesh is having a bad hangover!) When NOT playing the trumpet, Schneider would hit the gym-room or eat all the food in the house (even the chicken...even though he always claims to the "confession box" that" he iz a vEgaTaTiRian..Vegetatitatirian!") . Schneider would be sleeping alot and always be late for competitions or tasks, claiming to not know what all the drama and what all the competition is about or what is going on. He would openly admit this is in the “confession box” that he; “daowesn’t knaow whayt awll dis shaow iz awll abeout aor haow yo win diz? haha”

Paul: would be the overly annoying happy/cheery person in the house. Sometimes he would sleep for long and sometimes he will not sleep at all. But itæs when they are allowed to drink ALCOHOL that the REAL Paul gets out to play. When drunk he will make out will all the others (even Flake) and basically irritating the shit out of Richard, because Paul will also while being drunk confess that he “laowes” (loves) Reesh and asking him “tu marrY HiM and maove tuh Mascaow with hIm if Dey win zeh monay haha” but then 5 minutes later he would make out with any other band member and leave Richard behind. This will obviously make Richard feel confused and “So facking HURT...ya know!?” and Richard would want to talk about this while crying in the "confession box". Paul would also be irritating the camera crew (and not always when he is drunk!) and the shows producers; by damaging and or/ eating off the walls and ceiling in the house and/or keep knocking camera stands or microphone stands over, “juzt faor fuN haha lulz!”. Sometimes while drunk he would also pee in the corners of the kitchen or in the pot plants because “whaY naWt? Plantz neEid watah! Awnd Marray HawliGaYS HawliDayZ Yeawh!”.

Ollie: would mostly sit in his room,either playing accoustic guitar, reading books about Hawaii or surfing and sometimes he would masturbate. I think he would be voted off the show first as he doesn’t seem to be doing that much. Except maybe steal some of Richard’s hoodies, causing Richard to bitch around even more. Oh and sometimes the other band members would wake up and realize that the entire furniture has switched places and the entire house seems clean again....for some reason?? Richard confesses in the *confession box* that "This has obviously happened becauz aof Ghoztz ya know?". In reality; it is Ollie doing some early re-decorations out of boredom (while the others are still asleep).

Till (when not arguing with Flake) : would try and sit or stand wherever the cameras would be out of reach because he doesn’t want people to actually SEE him. Ocasionally he would masturbate under the covers. When he CAN be seen by the cameras he would either be cleaning, cooking (and doing all the dishes) being in the gym-room to run and lift weights or sit in the bedroom room and eat gummy bears while sobbing; because Richards bitchyness/ constant drama-fighting and Pauls shenaningans would make him nervous and he just “wantz everybady to be happi!:(”! He would probably be the one hiding away the booze from Paul to make him stop eating/ruining the house and to keep him safe from alcohol poisioning. Till would also try to stop Scheinder from eating all the food (because just like Schneider, Till is also obviously a big boi and needs the food for himself).

Flake (when not being on-and-off fighting with Till and Richard) : would be cleaning up all the mess but leaving the dishes behind because doing the dishes is too boring. (BUT Flake would ONLY be cleaning when Till would be in his room having a nervous break down or in the gym pumping steel and running miles). Flake would never clean the house unless if anyone else is NOT cleaning. Flake would also sometimes run on the threadmill or walk a bunch of rounds in the "garden-area" outside. Making Paul mad and leave his view. When Flake finally DO get drunk he would team up with Paul and dance on the tables or bust out his well known stage moves, all around the house, and smashing pots and furnitures like an absolute madman. Rip off his shirt and run around looking for a fight. Sometimes drunk Flake wants to try and fight Richard just because he thinks Richard is a bitch and Paul is too dumb to pick up a fight, while Till is too nervous and Ollie is scary. Despite sometimes having fun while dancing and running on the threadmill; Flake would often openly admit to the “confession box” that he wants to LEAVE (or be voted off the show) because “awl deh rizt (rest) dey behaiw liek dawmb cheldrin (children)" and besides he miss riding and taking care of his horse and veteran cars back home. All of this will be subtitled with english subs underneath as Flake's english can be hard for some viewers to understand. Despite his desperate plea for being voted off or to be able to leave; the audience will keep him around as they connect and can relate to Flake's moodyness, passive agressiveness and overall depressive/negative attitude that he brings to the house. That's why Flake would most likely be in the grand final with Richard. Taking the 2nd place.

#rammstein in big brother #rammstein reality shows #the viking wrote a thing #I added a little and edited a bit but its mostly unedited #the viking writes #rammstein #rammstein AU #till lindemann #richard kruspe #flake lorenz #christoph schneider #schneider #oliver riedel #paul landers

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beloveddarknes · 5 years ago

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Definition of “Richard the Diva?” 🧐😀

i’ll never be over richard zk being a lana del rey stan really i will never be over it

#richard kruspe #rzk #richard z kruspe #reesh u diva #diva rzk #rammstein #emigrate #richard the diva

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theelliottsmiths · 5 years ago

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There was a picture when he sold his BMW (presumably before one of his transatlantic moves), and in the boot, the floor(? feels like a weird word) liner literally had a giant picture of his face on it. I wish I could find the picture for you. I couldn’t stop laughing for days, and I’m someone who generally gets pissed about people calling him a diva. Reesh, honey, you’re not doing your reputation any favors. -😇

I am losing my mind over this it is 7am this is too much for 7am me to handle.

Woven into the upholstery

I can't. I refuse to accept it. I feel now I think about it like I saw pictures around the time I washed up on these shores but I cannot accept that.

His face

Woven into the upholstery

Richard I love you but what the fuck. Come on now, seriously, why.

#me rambling #rammstein #Richard zk

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hanhan156 · 5 years ago

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A new fic to my Stadium Tour series

Tumblr has been a pain in the ass for me recently. First, my sideblog’s posts’ tags are not shown in the feed and secondly, my last fic’s link disappeared suddenly from the tag feed. I have no clue why - maybe the god’s of Tumblr didn’t like when Paul was laughing at Reesh’s goofy outfit.

Anyways, I keep my fingers crossed and post this fic straight here. Enjoy. ~

ps. Once again, it's just my headcanons, no means to offend anybody. I'm just playing around the characters. This time, there's a bit of angst, but in the end I promise, it's gonna be fine.

Tales from the Stadium Tour pt. 2: Night terrors

Only two months to the start of their biggest tour ever, and everyone is understandably being exhausted as hell. Nobody hasn't said or done anything to it before their lead guitarist cracks and threatens to quit the whole band.

Luckily, Paul is there for him.

Being a world-famous band, some days tended to be the best ever, while some were being the absolute worst. Today, evidently, the latter - at least for their lead guitarist.

“So ein Misthaufen!!! Fuck this lousy band and fuck this even lousier tour!!!” Richard yelled, after another string from his guitar broke in the middle of the song. He usually treated his precious instrument like a woman he adored, but at this stage of upset, he almost threw it to the brick wall. “I said in the first place that this stadium tour was the dumbest idea we’ve ever had. It’s gonna be just a fucking farce the whole thing, I tell you!”

The guitarist rushed demonstratively towards the door turning to his fellow band members the last time before exiting the room. “I’m gonna leave this whole Scheisse, so have a nice tour without me!!!”

Schneider, confused and annoyed from the strange situation, stood up behind his drum kit. He had to interrupt this somehow. “C’mon Reesh, we’ve had way worse moments before. What the hell are you talking about quitting now? Should we cancel all the sold-out stadium shows then, huh? Don’t be ridiculous. It’s been just a bad day, it’s unnecessary to act like that!” He didn’t think they really had played so poorly – hell’s, back in the days, they’d even performed to full festival audiences, completely wasted, and with all of their instruments being out of tune.

“Hire a fucking substitute, it’s your problem now. I don’t care anymore! So verpiss dich!!” Richard snorted and showed the rudest hand sign known in the western culture to his band members before slamming the door and disappearing from their practice.

Stiff atmosphere landed the room. The question marks inside the other band members’ heads were almost visible. What on earth was that? Flake stared at his keyboard without saying anything. He really hated drama and usually when that occurred, he wanted to discuss and settle things with diplomacy rather than with yelling and swearing. He had to admit that he was sometimes a bit frightened about the melodramatic attitude their lead guitarist had. Flake knew that Richard was emotionally unstable - mostly, because of his neglecting family and other difficulties he had encountered through his life, so it was definitely understandable - but still, he was never prepared for the drama. He would have wanted to help the poor man, but didn’t really know, how.

In the other corner, Ollie was playing some random bass riff without an amplifier. He tried to keep himself busy and hide his disorientation as well. Schneider was bit in a shock and was handling it with never-ending gabbing.

“What the fuck was that, why he had to be so mean? He should definitely learn some manners, he can’t say things like that or show us the middle finger, like he would be the boss. We are all adults, for god’s sake…” He inhaled and continued, a notable concern in his voice: “Where did that thing about quitting come from? Right now, just two months before Gelsenkirchen? I don’t understand, why is he being such an asshole…”

“That’s enough,” Till interrupted their drummer’s rambling and cleared his throat, continuing: “Yes, he was being an ass towards us, but we shouldn’t judge him still. As you said Schneider, we are all adults, so let’s act like ones, even though Reesh didn’t. We all have our bad moments, and bad days, but we’ll still stick together, right?”

Paul was sitting legs crossed in the middle of the stage, listening to the discussion - or it seemed more like an argument now. To be honest, he wouldn’t have wanted to participate anyhow to this, but he didn’t want anyone to be upset though. Richard had once said that their band’s relationship was like a marriage, so despite all the uncomfortable things happening, he still felt responsible of their band members - especially Richard, who he cared deeply.

“I agree with you that he’s been like a bear shot in the ass lately, but still, we shouldn’t hate him. There must be an explanation to all of this,” Paul said and turned towards their singer, desperation in his voice: “Till, what should we do now?”

The singer just shrugged his shoulders.

Schneider, still annoyed, carried on his ranting: “So what could help then, huh? Should we let the diva continue being an ass towards us? What if he was serious about quitting, what are we gonna do then? Cancel all the shows, get real jobs? Guys, I’m definitely not accepting this. Not at all. We shouldn’t always go his way.”

There was a brief silence in the tight atmosphere before Till gestured Paul outside the rehearsal room. “Can I have a word with you, privately?”

The puzzled guitarist nodded and followed.

“Have you noticed anything…unusual in Reesh’s behavior recently?” Till asked when they were just the two of them.

Paul was thinking for a while what to answer. “Yes. When I think about it, he’s been even more annoying than usually,” he tried to ease the tight atmosphere, but Till still looked dead serious, so he clarified, “or I mean that he really gets annoyed even about the smallest things nowadays. Sometimes, I don’t dare to say anything to him because everything seems to upset him more. He also looks exhausted and doesn’t have the energy he usually has. He seems like…he’s not being himself anymore.”

“Exactly,” Till answered. He was happy to hear that Paul had noticed the same things as him.

“Do you have any idea, what might it be? You’ve known each other quite a long time so has he been like that before?”

“Couple of times, yes. You know that he’s being sometimes unnecessarily dramatic, but I think this time, he has a reason.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you have to admit that we - especially I - sounded like a vulture’s diarrhea ass today. You know how perfectionist Reesh is, so it made him even more distressed, and now he must think that our band is a total bullshit in general.”

“I agree that we weren’t at our best, but of course we’ve had bad days before and always managed still. I just don’t understand what made him to crack like that now.”

Till stared at the wall, avoiding Paul’s eyes, when he said: “I think he is mostly annoyed to himself rather than to us. He is clearly in a huge stress about this tour, about the news songs, about every single damn detail you can imagine. I can see that he’s not being his lively self, as you mentioned before. He tries to control everything too much and now, just two months before the tour should start, he has realized that it’s impossible to handle everything with a way he’d want to.”

Paul didn’t know what to think. In his opinion the stadium tour had been a good idea, something new and exciting for them. They’d had so much fun while creating their crazy-ass performance and the good old creative vibes had been around them. It felt amazing to play together once again, and like a cherry on top, it had lit that inner fire Paul had missed for a long time. He was also thrilled to perform the new songs - despite they didn’t have any clue yet, would the audience even like them, he was happy to play something new beside the old classics to which he was a bit fed up with. To be honest, he was even relieved that they had deleted Feuer Frei from their set list - even though it was a popular song, musically Paul thought it was one of their worst.

But, of course, when speaking of this kind of massive tour, everything doesn’t always go as expected. Paul didn’t mind it so much and he liked the idea that there was always room for some improvisation and surprises. The most important thing was that they and their audience enjoyed themselves. Besides, you’d always learn from failures and you could laugh at them later. He didn’t really understand, why Richard had to be so concerned about everything.

One thing his fellow guitarist had said before worried him the most. “Do you think he was serious with this ‘I quit’ bullshit?”

Till looked uneasy as well. “I don’t know. He is pretty unpredictable to be honest.”

“Then, what should we do? You know him the best, so should you go to talk to him?”

“Not me.”

“Why?”

“Because he doesn’t listen to me. It might make him to feel even worse. If he sees me, he probably just wants to smack me in the face.”

“So, what’s the solution then? Should we just let him be?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea. It’s not once or twice he has ended up doing something stupid in bad mood.”

After a brief silent moment, Till looked Paul, almost like a begging dog. “Can you go to talk to him? I think you are the only chance we have now.”

The guitarist gave a laugh. “Me? What the hell, I’m not a professional psychologist. Besides, you know him way better than me.”

“It doesn’t matter, who knows him the best. Have you happened to notice the way he looks at you, listens to everything you say? He clearly adores you, so I think you should do it. If it doesn’t work, then we’ll figure out something else.”

Oh mein Gott. “But what am I supposed to say? I…I’m not good at this kind of stuff. What if I make him to feel even worse?”

“Just improvise,” Till said, and patted Paul’s shoulder, trying to make him to relax. Instead, the other man gulped notable loud. A huge pile of responsibility was on his shoulders now.

What the hell did I just promise.

Finding their angsty little teenager ended up to be pretty easy; Paul just had to follow the thick fog hovering in the corridor. Seriously, he should cut down that smoking.

In no time, Richard was hearing a knock on his door. Verdammt.

“For fuck’s sake, lass mich Ruh!”

“Sorry to interrupt, but can I come in?”

Hearing Paul’s voice cooled Richard down a tiny bit. At first, he’d been completely sure that it was Till who came to interrupt his own peace. Now he was so surprised that he couldn’t even reply anything to the other guitarist’s question. The other part of him wanted to welcome him in, hug him as tight as he could and weep all of his sorrows to the other man, while the other part just wanted to pout alone and act like nothing was wrong.

When Paul didn’t hear anything, he decided to take a risk and come in even without a permission. At least, there wasn’t that childish swearing anymore.

“You know very well that we all agreed earlier that we are not smoking inside,” he said, trying not to sound too judgemental. He knew that Richard was an eternal rebel, but still, he should at least try to obey the rules they had set together.

Even though Paul didn’t mean it, Richard took the other man’s comment as an insult. “Oh, I didn’t know that my stepfather has taken a form of Paul suddenly.” Even a thought of that horrible family member made Richard to shiver a bit.

Paul sighed. “You know very well that I didn’t mean to sound like him, just that some of the tour staff told us that they might get a terrible headache from cigarette smoke. We don’t want anyone to get sick at this point. You are not a teenager anymore, so you should start to respect others’ opinions as well.”

Just to annoy Paul more, his fellow band member lighted up another cigarette even though the first one wasn’t finished yet. Richard didn’t even bother to give a glance to the other man, like he would have been just thin air to him.

“Hallooo Mister, I’m talking to you now!” Paul shouted, waving his hands at the same time in front of the cocky man.

But still, Richard just continued smoking, without saying anything.

Paul tried to think what to do. Sensible talking clearly didn’t work now so he had to make up another kind of tactic.

Okay, you asked for this, you damn teenage diva.

Without any prior warning, Paul sat on Richard’s lap, dumped the precious cigarette to one of the many beer cans on the floor, and turned the other man’s head, forcing him to look straight into his eyes.

“Do I finally have your attention, Herr Kruspe?” Paul asked, in a provoked tone. If this wouldn’t work, he would suggest to the guys that maybe they should hire a new lead guitarist after all.

But, to Paul’s surprise, despite his earlier arrogant acting, Richard’s face didn’t look as aggressive as he had sounded. Instead, his eyes were actually glossy. The sight sent a wave of empathy inside Paul and now he was really concerned instead being annoyed. Okay, this must be something serious now.

“Reesh, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” Richard answered, turning his eyes from the other man’s inquisitive, yet sympathetic, gaze. I am not a fucking baby, so don’t you dare to pity me like that.

But resiliently, Paul continued: “It’s clearly ‘nothing’ when you are almost crying.”

Richard didn’t like it when Paul had to see him in this weak state. “You shouldn’t have come here. I bet that Till sent you.”

“It doesn’t matter who send me and why. I am seriously worried about you. In fact, we all are.”

Richard didn’t say anything, he just stared at the table in front of them even though it was difficult when the other man was sitting on his lap, being so freaking close to him. But to be honest, in any other situation, the other man’s proximity would have actually felt really pleasant. Right now though, he was so distressed that it was difficult to concentrate on anything.

“Reesh, honestly, we all are under a huge stress because of the upcoming concerts and stuff, but how you are acting and threatening to leave us, are far from normal. Please, tell me, what is concerning you,” Paul begged.

There was once again a silent moment. For a while Paul thought that this was a lost case - maybe Richard didn’t want to tell him anything and would rather to stay alone. This was probably a stupid idea in the end. Damn you Till and your “just improvise”.

But, just before Paul thought about leaving from the other man’s lap, Richard broke the eerie silence with a huge sigh. “Y-you are correct, I am actually in a huge stress.”

Now Paul’s attention arose again. Maybe this isn’t a lost case after all. “Do you want to clarify what do you mean with ‘a huge stress’? You know very well that I’m not a telepath, so I can’t enter your thoughts if you are not telling me, what’s going on.”

“I’m just so fucking scared of…all of this,” the other man managed to say, with a trembling voice. He desperately tried to fight back tears - it was too embarrassing to cry when somebody was witnessing. Richard was so used to keep his tough mask and now when it was falling off, he felt suddenly so helpless.

“Scared of what exactly?”

“Of everything…about this new tour and…stuff.”

Without getting a very clarifying answer, Paul tried to keep on asking. “We all can see that you are not being yourself. Can I ask you, have you even slept or eaten properly? Cigarettes and coffee are not considered as food.”

There was no point to lie or hide anymore, so whatever Paul was asking, Richard had to answer. Shit. “Well, a couple of hours now and then.”

“How much did you sleep last night for example?”

“Well, actually I…umm…didn’t sleep. And when I think about it, maybe I didn’t eat anything either. I really cannot remember…My head is being a bit fuzzy because there’s so much going on.”

“Holy hell, did you know that at our age we should care about our health even more! That’s not gonna end up really well, if you continue that kind of lifestyle. We are not young anymore, our motor doesn’t run with only drugs and alcohol!”

“Seriously, why do you have to sound like some fucking nurse now.” Of course, Richard knew very well that what he was doing wasn’t really healthy, but he couldn’t help it.

“It doesn’t matter how I sound, the most important thing is you now. But could you tell me, why haven’t you slept? Is there something bothering you?”

Richard nodded and shivered a bit. Fuck it, maybe I just have to tell him. “I can’t sleep because…because…I’ve had so horrible nightmares lately that I’m actually…afraid of falling asleep…it’s easier to stay up as long as I can.”

“Do you want to tell me what kind of nightmares?” Paul knew that he really started to sound like a psychologist, but he was so concerned, that he didn’t care about it right now.

They’d been sitting on the couch for a while and Richard had been trying to avoid Paul’s physical and mental proximity as best as he could. But, as he started to open up, he had a sudden urge to seek for attention from his friend. To Paul’s complete - yet, pleasant - surprise, without a warning, Richard grabbed him tightly and started to pour out, sobbing desperately at the same time: “I’ve…had of course nightmares before, but…not as vivid as these…i…it’s so fucking disturbing…”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of now, I’m with you,” Paul tried to calm his friend down, stroking his hair gently. “What is happening in your nightmares?”

Richard cleared his throat and started to mumble to Paul’s shoulder: “It begins…pretty normally. We are having a gig, everything goes well, and we are having fun, even though…I’m a bit dizzy when I see the huge audience. Seriously, it seems like there are millions of people there. Just staring at us. And I feel a nasty twitch in my stomach when I think about how they are…judging us, especially me.”

“You know that in our concerts, most of the people are probably so wasted that they don’t even remember anything. They don’t care how you sound or look, they are just having a party of their lives,” Paul said, trying to ease the other man’s horror.

But Richard didn’t hear what Paul was saying, he just kept continuing: “Then, we are doing the boat thing…I always thought it was a bad idea. You know what happened to Flake earlier.”

“And you know that Till has said you thousand times that you don’t have to do it, if you are afraid.”

“But…I don’t want to be…a coward.”

“You’re definitely far from being a coward.”

I wish I would believe that also. Richard gulped and continued to describe his terrible dream: “Everything is pretty ok and I see you are doing fine while you are boating through the audience - in fact, you seem to enjoy yourselves with Schneider, shaking hands with the people and stuff…I’m jealous to you when you manage to remain so calm.

When it’s finally my turn to step in, I feel like I have to throw up. When I look at all the people, they resemble an enormous pack of greedy wolves, ready to tear me alive. It’s fucking terrifying...

Then, I manage to go with the boat for a while, and when I’m finally convinced that it’s gonna be alright, suddenly something happens…I fall down and hit my head. I nearly pass out, and try to shout for help, but…nobody’s listening. Instead, the audience - looking like fucking werewolves with their huge red eyes - is tearing me apart, kicking and hitting me in the face so hard it’s impossible to breathe. I’m coughing blood and spitting out pieces of my teeth. At the same time, those animals are shouting…pretty nasty stuff to me.”

Paul noticed that as the story carried on, his breathing was getting shallow and his hands, still caressing his friend’s hair, were shaking. Yet, he tried to remain as calm as possible because he wanted Richard to tell him all, despite how horrible it would be. “What kind of…insults?”

“They are calling me…” In this part, it was difficult for Paul to get what Richard was saying, because his voice was trembling so much. Still, he tried his best to listen. “…a numb, a complete failure and that I have just failed through my life. That all I have achieved so far is a fucking farce… that nobody cares about me and…I would be better off dead. Some of those freaking werewolves even have the judging voice of my stepfather. He always thought that I’m nothing, I’m just a total loser. After all of these years his words…still haunt me.”

“Reesh, that’s so horrible…I’m so sorry to hear.” Paul wasn’t sure, what kind of words were the most suitable in this kind of situation. For Richard though, he wasn’t hoping to hear the right words, he was just so relieved that somebody was listening to him - and he was even more relieved when the person listening to him was Paul.

Richard parted from their embrace, now looking straight into the other man’s eyes. His grey eyes were filled with pure horror and self judgement. “But the worst part is just coming up.”

“Do you…do you want to tell it to me?”

Richard squeezed his friend’s shoulders so tight it hurt, but it didn’t matter.

“Reesh, please tell me. Everything is ok now, I’m here for you…”

So, the horrifying story continued. “In the end, the audience disappears and I’m relieved when I see all of you approaching me. I raise my hands, begging for your help, but you… just continue doing the same terrible things as the audience…Till points and laughs at me…that laugh is still echoing in my head…Rest of you behind him start to mock me. I also hear somebody of you saying that thank god you are finally getting rid of me, because you all hate me so much.

And in the end, the rest of the guys, expect for you, leave the scene. You stare at me, looking so curious - like a scientist glaring at his guinea pig - and so unusually…cold. I’m drained and exhausted, still hoping that at least you would help me. But, in the end…you come close to me and whisper to my ear…” Richard’s voice suddenly broke and he couldn’t breathe properly anymore.

Paul’s whole body was on goosebumps, but still, he wanted Richard to continue: “What…is it I whisper to you?”

The other man answered with his eyes closed: “You whisper to me that…’you fucking piece of shit…du bist ein Scheitern’…”

“…A failure? Why would I ever call you that? That’s… so fucking horrible…I’m so sorry…I would never call you with that horrendous word…”

“And you keep repeating it over and over until I’m begging you to stop, but you just continue…”

“Holy motherfucking hell, you should know that I would never, ever say anything like that to you…”

“And in the end, you spit on me and disappear, laughing with a voice so cruel that it…still hurts me to even think about it…I’d want to cry, but I can’t. I just lay on the dirty ground, alone, torn in the pieces mentally and physically.”

Paul was completely shocked, squeezing the other man tightly. “Holy shit…why am I acting like that in your dreams… I certainly hope that you are not really thinking that I would ever do something like that to you. Not in this lifetime. Not me, Till, Flake, Ollie or Schneider. We all love and support you and we’ll stick together, whatever happens. The audience can be shit sometimes, but we’ll always be there for you. For each other.”

Richard was crying to Paul’s shoulder, this time without even bothering to hide his awful feelings. Even though it was horrible to say out loud all these things which had bothered him for so long, it felt like a catharsis to finally speak about those horrors.

Richard parted from Paul’s embrace to blow his nose. “Es tut mir wirklich leid…how embarrassing, an adult man weeping like this.”

“Hey, there’s definitely no need to apologize.”

“Yes, there is. I was an ass towards all of you today. I really don’t know why I said all those cruel things…I’m just somehow so shocked and horrified about everything…”

“Well, all the guys were quite confused about the scene you created, but they will definitely understand and accept your apology. These are hard times for all of us, you are not alone.”

Richard wasn’t really convinced, so he continued: “Why am I so weak, why do I have to show my emotions like this…you all seem to be so happy about this new tour so why am I acting like this…”

“We all are afraid, of course. I’m as well and sometimes, it’s difficult for me to sleep, even though you know pretty well how good I’m at napping.”

Richard gave a dry laugh through his tears. “Yes, I definitely remember that lousy night after a gig in Mexico City, in that even lousier motel bunk we had to share. You were snoring so loud, and it was so freaking hot next to you, that I couldn’t sleep a second.”

Paul grinned. It was a good sign that Richard was joking, so he could be distracted from all the terrible things they had just discussed about. “To be honest, I don’t even remember anything from that night.” They both made a sound so weird that it was difficult to tell whether they were laughing or crying. It warmed up Paul’s heart to see his friend smiling, at least a tiny bit.

“But yeah, coming back to our Stadium Tour, it’s gonna be a huge thing for us. A challenge and an enormous step forward. I’m excited and yes, so afraid at the same time, but also, I am willing to just jump into the crazy rollercoaster - to see where it will lead us. And I’m completely sure that in the end, we will succeed and be even a bigger band we already are.”

“But how are you able to manage with all the fears and concerns? You seem so calm while I feel like I’m breaking into pieces even though the tour hasn’t even started yet.”

“I think the biggest reason I manage is that I know that I’m not alone. Whatever happens, we’ll stick together. We can, and we actually are bound, to ask for help - you should remember that as well. We don’t have to act like we are stronger than we are - we are, in the end, just a bunch of normal guys. Not some superheroes.”

Richard sighed. “I wish I could be like that as well. This freaking perfectionism is killing me.”

Paul understood what Richard meant. His friend was definitely that kind of a person, who’d be concerned if 1 person out of 100 didn’t like him, and he’d remember that single negative feedback for the rest of his life, even though there were actually 99 people worshipping him.

“Reesh, let me tell you something.”

There was a puzzled gaze in the other man’s eyes when Paul turned him to look at him again. “I just want you to know that you are an amazing person and a talented musician. Honestly, you are fucking amazing at anything you do. And if there happens to be someone who doesn’t like you, it’s his problem.”

Richard was blinking his eyes, confused from all of this. Still, after all these years, he wasn’t used to compliments. It felt a bit similar when passionate fans came to him, praising him from head to toe. “Now you must be just flattering me.”

Paul looked at him with a serious gaze. “Everything I said before is true, it’s not just some lame flattering. You deserve so much more positive things. I said it because I lo…” He cleared his throat and continued, feeling a rush of warmth on his cheeks at the same time: “I…umm, adore you very much.”

“Thank…you.” Richard was completely dumbfounded by the sweet words.

The two men were still embracing each other. Richard felt like his legs were getting a bit numb from Paul’s weight, but it didn’t matter. His whole body had calmed down, and he actually felt like he could finally fall asleep now, being safe with his friend.

His dreamy state was interrupted though when the other man asked: “Just one last thing. Were you serious with this ‘I quit’ stuff?”

Richard smiled. “Maybe I admit that I overreacted a bit. Of course, I’m not quitting, because I don’t want to get rid of any of you. Especially from you, Paul. I enjoy irritating you way too much.”

Hearing that felt like a heavy load finally dropped from Paul’s shoulders. “That’s wonderful to hear.” Then he came closer and whispered to Richard’s ear: “And you are definitely not getting rid of me, never in this lifetime.”

They both chuckled and Richard went back to his sweet, dreamy state. His eyelids weighed like led and slowly, he was dragged into the miraculous world of his unconscious mind.

Suddenly, Paul said, like from the distance, even though he was still close: “We all should relax.”

“…but I thought we have a tight schedule,” the other, drowsy man, mumbled.

“Yes, but it doesn’t help if we forcefully continue, exhausted and drained. We’d be too tired when the actual tour starts. We should take a tiny break.”

There was complete silence and Paul could only hear Richard’s calm, rhythmic breathing. “Are you sleeping under me?” he asked, pressing a couple of light kisses on the other man’s forehead.

“…maybe…does it matter?”

Paul gave a laugh. “Not at all, just that it might be a bit uncomfortable position.” He finally stood up and immediately, Richard positioned himself to the sofa more comfortable so he could take a nap. Paul handed him a blanket and sat next to him, caressing him still.

“I actually got an idea what we could do.”

“…huh?” was all that Richard was able to answer from the edge of consciousness.

“I’ll tell you later. Now, just get some sleep, mein Liebling.”

“Wonderful to hear that he’s now resting,” Till said while they were walking towards the little kebab kiosk nearby the rehearsal place. Even though Till tried to maintain a healthy lifestyle, Paul’s idea of getting some junk food and watching a crappy movie from Ollie’s endless B film -collection, was a very good one indeed. It was no use to do anything meaningful anymore today and they all really needed something else to think about than the tour. It had been a long time since they did something else together than music related stuff.

There was still one question bothering the singer. “But I’m curious, how did you manage to calm him down when he was so upset earlier?”

“Well, I had my own ways,” Paul said, grinning himself.

“You two clearly have something special going on.”

With a dreamy look in his eyes, them fixed to the red sky, Paul whispered so quietly that Till could barely hear it: “…vielleicht…”

#rammstein #rammsteinfandom #richard kruspe #paul landers #till lindemann #flake lorenz #christoph schneider #oliver riedel #paulchard #my fics

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flakelli · 5 years ago

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heres a ramm ask: tell me 3 traits you love about each of the boys!

Omg this question is everything.

1. Flake Lorenz <3.

The way he is the sarcastic king in the band but then can be Friends with the adorable-shy tedy bear that is Till.

The fact that whatever he puts on (out of satge) make him look as a model from the next season (I have many proofs and 0 doubts).

His height, which is just 2cm smolest tan Ollie´s

2. Oliver Riedel :)))

He doesn´t age at all???? In which bood does he get a bath???

His big love for seas and waves, his photos doing surf got me sighing <3

The fact that he actually has hair but decides to save it for some reason, he is autentic in his own style hell yes!

3. Paul mr.sunshine Landers

I swear that if i saw another picture of Paul with a beanie my hearth will be melting off.

I really like that in every fanfiction i read whit him it he is always a cute potatoe, that´s the proof that none of us can see him in a diferent way and i find it kinda hilarious.

HIS SMILE????????

4. Christoph -not like a banana- Schneider.

I follow him in the social media and i saw the realationship he has with his wife, giiirrrrl those are GOALS.

The fact that, despite he looks as a serious guy he is actually pretty funny in the interviews and making offs but also pretty awkward whith fans.

MHB make up????!!!! Hottest goth guy i´ve ever seen, wish i could hire him for some…. lessons ;)

5. Till tedy bear Lindemann ^^.

His big smooth body???? I just want a big hug from him :(

I like the fact that he has anxiety but at the same time feel confident to change his hair and pircings with regularity, i admire that so much.

The protective personality he has with the people he love, this man love with all his hearth and would withut doubt die for those close to him.

6. Richard aka the sassy diva Kruspe.

His aesthetic on stage (Rammstein and Emigrate) got me sobbing, i don´t understand how this man dress better on stage tan out stage.

The fact that he has become the perfect prototipe of goth dad that we all wish to have.

I´m really proud of him to ask for help when he needed it and for the good relationshp he has with his both daughters. Well done Reesh!!!

Thank you so much for the ask!!! :)

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brikruspestarkey · 5 years ago

Photo

les presento la revista de la diva suprema 💅🏻💅🏻💅🏻 Encuentrenla en el lugar mas cercano 😂😂❤️❤️ #RichardZvenKruspe #RichardKruspe #RichardZK #RichardZKruspe #RZK #Reesh #TillLindemann #Lindemann #PaulHeikoLanders #PaulLanders #Paulchard #ChristophDoomSchneider #ChristophSchneider #ChristianLorenz #FlakeLorenz #OllieRiedel #OliverRiedel #RammsteinEdit #Rammstein https://www.instagram.com/p/B8ahowxnc8E/?igshid=1da4erq16xzwi

#richardzvenkruspe #richardkruspe #richardzk #richardzkruspe #rzk #reesh #tilllindemann #lindemann #paulheikolanders #paullanders #paulchard #christophdoomschneider #christophschneider #christianlorenz #flakelorenz #ollieriedel #oliverriedel #rammsteinedit #rammstein

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rammwrites · 7 years ago

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Use your imagination and put together a compilation of things only dive Reesh would say.

Ooooooh this’ll be fun! (I’m assuming you meant “diva Reesh”)

- “It’s not gay, it’s called fashion!”

- “What do you mean my shirt looks like a house plant?”

- “Oh, it’s okay, I’m famous. I can smoke wherever I want.”

- *waitress asks him to pay* “Honey, haven’t you heard? Stars never pay.” *walks out of diner*

- “You can’t tell me what to do, this is my world, I’ve already established that in a song of mine. Start paying attention, would you?” *tosses Emigrate CD to person*

- “I look so great, I would fuck myself right now if I could.”

- “Not anyone can play guitar in Rammstein. It takes someone with a specific set of skills like myself.”

- “I mean, Rammstein wouldn’t even be Rammstein without me, and we all know that.”

- “Well, I think we should go with my idea because my ideas are always the best.”

- “Out of my way, my initials are cooler than yours.”

- “Do you see this nice ass? I worked hard for it. Don’t disrespect me like that ever again.”

Okay so I know he’d probably never say any of these but I mean come on, we all know he’s thinking all of these!

#rammstein #rammstein imagines #richard kruspe #rzk #anon #diva

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retro-leigh · 7 years ago

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What are three things that you love about each member?

Great question, nonnie!

Till:

• His voice. Oooooh my lord. Singing, or just talking, his voice never fails to draw me to him.

• His outlook on life. I love reading the song lyrics, and listening to him during interviews because I just love his outlook on life. Remember his fucking speech on love in the ‘Rammstein: Who Are They?’ Interview? Fucking i c o n i c.

• How humble he is. I don’t think he’s ever really credit himself only in anything. It’s always about everyone involved, and I really love and respect that.

Paul:

Oh no here we go.

• His smile. Ugh. UGH. U G H. I looooooove his smile. And not just his smile, but like his whole face. It’s the crow’s feet and the way he squints his eyes a little and and the smile itself is all big and happy and ajdhksnskadjskiabwosjakOkHfJkJjahKABJSKjabahakKk

• His sense of humor. I love how he can make like anything funny. He’s usually the one that makes me laugh during interviews, making of’s, etc.

• The fucking evolution of his hair oh my god. We’ve seen mullets, ponytails, sloppy buns, bowl cuts, shaggy hair, nice combed over hair, a red doughnut *shutters*, brown, blond, red, silver, black, we’ve seen it all. I don’t think I’d ever be able to pull off that many haircuts and styles. Mad props to him for that.

Schneider:

• HIS EYESSSSS OH MY GOD HIS EYES. I can’t with his eyes they’re too much I tell you. TOO MUCH.

• His voice. Y A L L. The first time I heard his voice and how deep it was, I was like W H A T?! It’s muuuuch deeper than I expected and I absolutely love it.

• How friendly and happy he can be. I love watching interviews and making ofs because he’s always just so smily. Mein Land making of? Fucking love it.

Flake:

Oh sheeeiiiit mah boi Flakeee

• His ability to be awkward, but also give no fucks. Like he can make ANY situation awkward, but at the same time he like doesn’t give two shits and I’m like ??? I aspire to be you ???

• His smile yaaaall, I love Flake’s smile too. It’s kinda like a rare gem. You don’t always get a genuine one, but when you do, you’re gonna fucking treasure it!

• H I S A W K W A R D D A N C E M O V E S! I love any clip of them I can get my hands on. Some of y’all may have noticed that I Tag a lot of Flake things with, “you go flake.” Yeah, you can thank his sweet as moves for that.

Ollie:

• His facial haiiiiiiir. In my opinion, he’s pulled off every styled. I’m just like y e s p l s.

• His fashion sense. Y’all. He’s 47 and dresses like he’s fucking 20 and I love it. He dresses cooler than anyone I know and I’m like TEACH ME YOUR WAYS.

• He never says any dumb shit. That’s one of the good things about him not being as talkative. He’s the only member who doesn’t say anything fucking stupid or cringey and I’m just like THANK YOU.

Richard:

Oh god. It is time. Time for our boy Reesh.

• His voice. I’m not a huge Emigrate fan, but I can definitely appreciate it because I really don’t mind the way he sings. I also love the way he just talks. His voice is kinda weird and annoying when he speaks English in my opinion (understandable) but when he talking in German, wOWZA.

• His Hand motions. If you turned off the lights while he talks and shine a flashlight on his hands, it would display a puppet show and he wouldn’t even know it.

• The diva Reesh moments. Yes, I said it. Though sometimes it’s annoying as all hell, sometimes I’m like YOU GO BITCH FUCKING TELL THEM

Thank you for asking, nonnie!

#ask #answered #anonymous #anon #rammstein

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nichtaufgewacht · 8 years ago

Text

Irgendwer mich liebt, Chapter 9.

Richard looked at the crowded streets in front of them. All while Francesca looked out of her window, humming to the song on the radio. Then, from time to time, she looked at Richard. She studied his features, almost as if she wanted to make sure that it was really him. Maybe he looked skinnier. Or maybe it was just her impression. She hadn't seen him for quite a while, and she had to admit to herself that she had, in fact, missed having him around. This time she was in 'his territory'. And it was actually exciting for her to see all these new streets, these new buildings and people. All while being around him.

"Can I..can I ask you something?" Richard interrupted her thoughts, and she looked at him.

"Of course."

"We were thinking of having dinner at a...nice, laid back place." He started, biting on his lower lip. "With some guys from the band, Till and Paul. Do you...you want to come?" Francesca smiled at him, and nodded. She couldn't lie to herself and admit she did not want to spend the evening with him. Alone. But yet, it would have been a nice dive into his world.

"Whatever you want." she replied. Richard sighed, relieved. His hands kept on tapping on the wheel. He was actually trying to distract himself. If she could only get inside his head, and see the chaos mixed to happiness that went around his thoughts. Every glance he had of her made his heart flutter.

"So...what are your plans? What about tomorrow?" Richard asked, as he kept on driving and he turned into a pretty busy street.

"Realize that I actually am in Berlin." Francesca joked, playing with a tuft of her pixie. "I will also try to find a job."

"Remember that you can stay at my place." Richard said, almost immediately. "You're my guest, and I want you to stay as much as you want." He repeated that to himself, almost as if he wanted to convince himself of that. Slowly but surely, he was realizing that she was there. In flesh and bones.

"Thanks, Richard." She said, placing a hand on his thigh as he drove. She could swear he had felt him tremble for a second. "I don't want to be a bother though. I will find my own place, as soon as I can." Richard smiled at her, nervously. He desperately tried not to show her that he was very nervous. He wanted to keep calm and collected, to make her see that he was a man, and not a boy that was afraid of things getting too real. He bit on his lower lip, and turned the volume of the radio up a bit.

"Ooh, I love this song." Richard commented, as Alles so einfach by The Ärzte played. "Wenn das mal alles so einfach wär..." he sang along, his clear and musical voice coming out. Francesca laughed, and took another long look at him. She was asking herself a lot of questions, for example how his friends would have reacted when meeting her. She also asked herself if it had been really worth it, to leave her job in Italy out of the blue and come to Berlin. Maybe, Richard was right? Maybe, he really was her chance to go on and make a living for herself in a foreign country? Maybe, she was just disillusional, maybe she shouldn't have fallen for a pair of magnetic blue eyes and a smile that could make love itself fall for him. Maybe she shouldn't have thought about the dimples near to his mouth that appeared every time he laughed. Maybe she shouldn't have fallen for how mature he was, for how he had shown that he didn't want to play with her, for his foreign accent, for his...everything. There were a lot of 'maybes' in her brain, and by the time she had went over all of them Richard was parking his SUV.

They were in Prenzlauer Berg, a lively neighbourhood in the heart of the German capital city. Murals, a lot of tourists and youngsters going out and about, crowding the sidewalks. Richard really felt like he didn't want to be bothered by anyone, and had put the hood of his jacket on. He walked next to Francesca, his hand timid as he placed it in the middle of her back.

"You're such a diva." Francesca confessed to him. "I love it." she whispered to his ear, as she slid her arm around his waist and left a kiss on his cheek. Richard felt his face burning, and kept on walking until the entrance of the place they had chosen for dinner.

It was a very laid back Biergarten, with long wooden tables like the ones you could find at food festivals. There were benches around them, and beautiful trees that were scattered here and there. Francesca loved the lights that were hanging from the trees, all over the place and over their heads, and let herself be amazed at the warm lights and at the lovely atmosphere created by the people chatting. They walked amomg the tables, until Richard saw a small guy waving at him at the end of the garden, near the small cabin that sold food and beer. With every step, Francesca felt like smiling like an idiot.

"What's up with the hood?" the small guy asked as Richard sat down and Francesca sat next to her. Richard pulled the hood down, revealing his head with a snort.

"Privacy." Richard looked at Francesca, and winked at her. "Paul, das ist-"

"Francesca." Paul said, holding out his hand to shake Francesca's. He widened a huge and warm smile at her, to which Francesca replied, with a little surprise on her face. "It's nice to meet you in person, after hearing all about you."

"Really?" the girl asked Richard. "I never imagined that someone could talk about me." Richard smiled, slightly embarrassed. If there was someone that knew all about her was Paul. And he really knew everything about her. In the mean time, carrying two beers with each hand, Till Lindemann had approached the table. Without even letting them down, he leant down to leave a gentle kiss on the top of Francesca's head. The girl was happy to see him again. He was a familiar face after all.

"First, a kiss." Till said, putting the tall glasses of golden beer on the table. After he had done that, he embraced Francesca with his long arms, making her seem even smaller than he was. "Then, a hug. Welcome, tiny girl. How are you?" Richard, somehow, hated how natural Till had acted towards Francesca. He couldn't have done it, and he had yet to explain to himself why.

"Good, big man." Francesca replied, as Paul chuckled. "It's good to see you, you haven't aged a single day." Till tipped an invisible hat on his head, and smiled.

"Flatterer." Till replied, offering her a glass. "How about you, princess of darkness?" Till then said to Richard, his eyebrows flicking up, as he slid his long fingers around the beer and brought it to his lips. Francesca smiled, in such a tender way that Richard couldn't help but not feel thankful for Till's stupid comment. Paul watched, definitely amused.

"Ignore him." Richard commented, leaning closer to the girl. "He'll stop, eventually." Till winked at Richard, who rolled his eyes.

"Hope you like Lager." Paul said to Francesca. "You got to go easy on beer at first, in Berlin." The girl took a sip, and put her thumb up to signal that she loved it. Paul smiled back at her, as she clinged her glass with his.

"I'm more of a beer girl, than of a wine or cocktail type." Francesca admitted. "Guess I'm a German at heart." Richard chuckled at that sentence, as the alcoholic drink started to make him feel a tad bit less nervous. He loved how she tried to go past her shy temperance, just to be with his friends. She was being adorable, and kind, and funny. And he was feeling all fuzzy inside once again.

"Have you visited Richard's place yet?" Paul asked. The girl shook her head.

"Not yet." Richard answered for her, as he took out the pack of cigarettes. He hadn't had a single one since collecting Francesca, and he was feeling a horrible withdrawal.

"Don't be scared at the...how do we call it? Single-ness of it." Paul continued, with a soft smile. Francesca with a grin on her lips, observed as Richard took out the cigarette and brought it to his lips. She had missed seeing that gesture of his. Till had his head on his hand, his elbow resting on the table. His big green eyes went from Richard to Francesca, studying them. The mechanical poetry of lovers, that was how he called it. And man, were these two really infatuated with each other. Yet, he could see how Richard wasn't being entirely himself.

"Once again, not everything these guys say is true." Richard replied, puffing out a cloud of smoke from his lips.

"I'll find out for myself, thank you, Reesh." Francesca brought the pint of beer to her mouth, letting a big gulp down. It seemed like Richard was trying to defend himself, building a wall, while the guys were literally willing to make her become more acquainted with his - and their, - world.

"The others say that they're sorry for tonight, but you'll meet them very soon." Till said, after he had spent a few minutes in silence. "Maybe I'll set something up at my house in the country."

"You have a house in the country?" Francesca asked, interested. "Wow. Don't you prefer the big metropolis?" Till shook his head, so did Paul. Almost at the same time, they pointed both at Richard.

"He's the city type." Till replied. "I like to be away from it all, when I can." Francesca nodded in agreement. It was the first time for her in such a huge city as well. She looked at Richard, hoping that he would be a sort of guide to her in that crazy, fast environment. Richard nodded slowly, in agreement. The city was his kingdom.

"I'm getting something to eat." Francesca proposed, standing up from the bench. "Do you guys want something? Richard?" Richard thought about it for a second, and then finished what was left of his beer in a gulp.

"Something else to drink." He replied, to which Francesca smiled, almost resignated.

"I'll get something for me and Till, too. Come, I'll help you." Paul stood up, making Francesca feel very grateful for that initiative. Till looked at Richard for a very long minute. He was hating his behaviour at the moment.

Francesca and Paul took the few steps towards the wooden cabin that sold food and beverages. She looked at the menu, and opted for an oven baked potato. Paul made the order for both of them, and insisted on paying. After almost ending up in a fight with him, she decided to give in to his chivalry. There was a moment of silence in which Francesca just enjoyed the sight of the cooks inside the cabin preparing their meal. The noise of the sausages on the grill and their smell made her forget about everything else for a few seconds, until Paul started talking again, almost abruptly.

"Forgive me for saying this, I shouldn't be nosing in your business." He apologised. "But if you bear with me one second I'll make this evening less unpleasant to you." The girl furrowed her brows, and crossed her arms.

"Alright."

"You see, he's not entirely himself at the moment." He hinted at Richard with his head, their table far enough so that him and Till couldn't hear what he was saying.

"I noticed that." Francesca sighed.

"He's just...afraid." Paul continued, his finger playing with his earring. "You broke into his life, and he didn't expect that. And I'm not saying that in a negative way." The girl listened, carefully.

"I just hoped he would welcome me...in a warmer way. Do you know what I mean?" She replied, as Paul smiled at her. He was a reassuring presence, and despite not knowing him he had already proven to be a nice guy to have around.

"As I told you, he's afraid. And nervous."

"What do you suggest?" Francesca replied, as she glanced at Richard. He was lighting up another cigarette, and in that moment he looked particularly adorable as Till had made a joke, and the two men had started laughing. There they were again: butterflies.

"Give him time." Paul said. "He cares about you, more than he's showing at the moment. I'm sure he'll reward you with his best self in some time." She heard his words, and realized that maybe he was right. She had to ease into Richard's life slowly, giving him time to adjust himself to the situation. "And by the way, he's...fallen head over heels for you. I really hope you know that. He doesn't want to blow this up, that's why he might seem an asshole tonight." He added, making all of Francesca's tension disappear in a moment. In love. Richard could be, or so it seemed, in love with her. She didn't expect that, she actually didn't know what to say or think, even. She took the plate the cook was lending her, and looked at Paul with a stupid, happy expression on her round face.

"And I...I hope you're right." She answered to him. "Otherwise, I'd have wasted money, time and...most of all, feelings." Paul chuckled, and as he took his order he gently rubbed a hand on her upper back.

"He's a tough one to be around. But...when he gives, he gives his whole being." Paul said, as they started walking back towards the table. "Have faith for me. Will you?"

"I will." She said. Paul winked at her, and she felt incredibly thankful for the chat she had just had with him. As they sat back down on the benches, Richard had a puzzled, curious look on his tired face.

"What's up?" He asked her. She adjusted the bangs of hair on her blonde head, and shook her head.

"Niente." She said. "Guten Appetit, I guess?" She nervously added, shrugging her shoulders and passing him the other beer he had ordered.

Richard opened the door to his apartment, and entered first. He had drunk at least three beers, and despite being used to drinking he couldn’t help but feel a bit tipsy. Francesca got inside, dragging her carry on suitcase. She looked around, following Richard.

It was a beautiful, scandinavian style loft. Her boots walked on a wooden floor, and what caught her sight the most were the huge windows that faced the balcony. There was a modern steel kitchen on the left side of the room, with an island and a couple of designer stools in front of it. There was a long raw wood table in the center of the space, on which books and vinyls rested. She noticed the enormous amplifier that rested against the wall made of visible walls, and a guitar rack that comprehended guitars of all shapes and sizes. Not far from the window were two armchairs, and a long sofa made of grey fabric, in front of a high-tech fireplace. On the wall above it, was a flat tv-screen.The light that Richard had flicked on was warm, and it gave the place a homely feeling.

She watched as he took off his coat, and left it on a chair. He opened his arms, almost as if he wanted to show the place off.

“I guess this is it. Mi casa es tu casa.” He said, visibly trying not to look too drunk. “Come, I’ll show you to your room.” Francesca got annoyed by that word. ‘Your room’. But then again, maybe it was the right thing. It was not like she had moved to Berlin to start living together with him. She followed it as they turned around the kitchen and went through a corridor. He turned the lights on in a room in which there was a large double bed, in that same minimalist style of the rest of the house. The wall behind the bed was dark grey, and on it rested a few photographs in large frames. There was a big square window and under it was a chest of drawers. It wasn’t bad, and it was almost as big as the entire living room of her house in Florence.

“Thanks for having me.” Francesca said, getting her suitcase in the room, and looking around. “I owe you.” Richard shook his head, nervous.

“Don’t even say that.” He replied, with a smile. “Let me give you some towels. I bet you’d like a shower.”

“I’ll just go to bed, actually.” Francesca said, taking off her leather jacket.

“Ugh. Yeah, of course. But, maybe you want to take a shower tomorrow morning.” He said, as he opened the wardrobe in the room and took out a few towels. He tried to place them orderly on the bed, and almost tripped as he did that. Francesca fought to keep a laugh in.

“Thank you, again.” she replied. Richard nodded at her and then, before walking out of the door, he stopped.

“Gute Nacht.” he timidly left a kiss on her cheek, shyly looked down at his feet and left her alone. Francesca stood there for a good minute, pondering. She sat down on the bed, and brought her carry on closer to her feet. She reflected upon her decisions, about the weird day and the weird feelings she was having in that moment. Anger, dismay, fear. She almost felt her eyes watering. Yet, she brought herself back to reality and decided to lay down and get some rest.

A pressing headache woke Richard up from his slumber. With some difficulties he managed to sit on the edge of his bed, and stood up. His bare feet on the wooden floor as in between the pain in his head he grabbed a sweatshirt and got out of his room. His stomach was a little twisted, and he wanted to get some air. He looked at the time on his smartphone, and hissed at it. It was about four in the morning.

Wearing nothing but his boxers and a plain black shirt over which he had the sweatshirt, he walked back to the kitchen. It took him a while to notice that Francesca was sitting on an armchair, facing the glass wall that opened to the balcony. Her legs were crossed, a cigarette resting between her fingers, and she had slightly opened the window. There wasn’t any breeze coming in, but there sure was some fresh air getting inside the loft. She seemed to be focused on the skyline of Berlin over which the apartment looked from the balcony. And she didn’t hear Richard approaching her. Or did she?

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, his eyes still almost completely squeezed because of how tired he was. Francesca let out a puff of smoke, and shook her head. “Me neither.” He went to grab a chair from near the table, and brought it next to her. He had to admit to himself that he was astonished at the sight of the city he loved so dearly at that time of the night. He had lived it, but he had to give in to his peaceful ambience. Francesca lent him the cigarette, which Richard gladly took. He brought his thumb and his index to his mouth, and inhaled. His eyes inspected her figure. Her legs were fleshy, soft and inviting. Her entire figure gave him a sense of peace. She was wearing a tank top with the Motörhead logo on it, and the tattoo she had from just above her chest was showing. It was a spiral wave of water, that arrived right on her shoulder. It was made in relaxing shades of blue, and it felt very realistic. He passed the cigarette back to her, and adjusted himself on the chair.

“Aren’t you cold? If I’m correct you’re quite sensitive to it.” Richard spoke hopeful, trying to initiate the conversation. Francesca shrugged her shoulders.

“No.” she said. Just that glacial monosyllable. Richard sighed, and stood up; he walked up to the sofa, grabbing the wool blanket that was resting on its edge. He went back to her, and placed it on Francesca’s shoulders. She didn’t expect it, and flinched a little as she had felt the warm fabric on her body. It was a good sensation, that was sure. Richard sat down again, crossing his arms and looking out. It was still dark, with tiny dots of light scattered on the panorama of the city. The girl inhaled one last time from the cigarette, before turning it off in an ashtray that she had found on the coffee table in front of the sofa. Throwing the blanket around her body, she stood up from the armchair. Richard watched her moves, in silence. He held it in, until she finally decided to open her mouth to speak.

“Good night again.”

“No, that’s not a good night.” Richard replied. He stood up, and looked directly into her eyes. His headache was driving him crazy. “Listen, I know. I know…I know I’ve been an idiot the whole time.” Richard spoke, not being able to hold his thoughts inside anymore. “I’m hurt, my brain is exploding, and I still feel sick because of all the beer I drank in the hope of making things easier, but…yeah.” He said again, as Francesca had stopped on the way to her room, listening. “What I’m trying to say is that if you want to give me a taste of my own medicine, I cannot blame you.”

He got closer to her, just a few steps separating them. As they were both barefoot, he was about ten centimeters taller than she was. Francesca looked up at him, keeping the blanket tight to her shoulders.

“It’s…it’s just that you’re here. You’re…really here, for God’s sake.” Richard felt a spontaneous smile climb onto his lips as he spoke and said those words. He gesticulated so much, he ended up nervously fiddling with the hair on the back of his head. “You took your chance, you…came here. And there’s a part of me that is insanely happy at the thought that you might have decided to come here because of me.”

He explained, Francesca breathing very calmly as she lent her ears to him.

“The other part though, is insanely scared that you might have come here because of me.” Richard was feeling very nervous, like a school kid reciting his love confession to his first crush. “I need you to…to have a little bit of patience with me. I will realize it, I will accept and love the fact that maybe you came here because of me. I’m an old, bitter, delusional man that is too afraid to act like a real man and give you what you deserve.” Francesca could feel all of his words get straight to her tired heart. She was trying to keep herself together, without bursting into tears. It was very difficult to be a grown up woman, and not a protagonist of a corny love story. “So I’m sorry, again and again. I truly hope you will…give me another chance to prove I’m not the asshole a lot of people think I am.” He let his arms down, finally, and felt it very relieving. He had said it all, everything he held inside. “I’m…I’m going to bed. If you want to, you can…you can join me there. If not, good night anyways.”

Richard took a shy step towards her, and leant in to leave a long, long wanted kiss on her cheek. With a defeated expression, he went to his room without looking back. He got back into bed, turning on one side. He sighed, and finally closed his eyes in the darkness. He felt drained, actually. Drained of all the emotions and the forces he had. It didn’t take long before he heard muffled and insecure steps on the wooden floor. He felt the covers behind him moving, and smiled to himself as he felt Francesca’s arm slide on him, to rest on his stomach.

“Take all the time you need.” she said. Her voice soft to his ear. He placed a hand on hers, and interlaced his fingers with hers.

“Thank you. I hope I won’t disappoint you.”

“Shh. I’ve missed you, you chatty old man.”

#irgendwer mich liebt #mareavera #story #fanfic #fanfiction #richard kruspe #richard kruspe x oc #paul landers #till lindemann #rammstein #ramms+ein #r+

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theelliottsmiths · 5 years ago

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Within the band do you think Reesh and Till are most likely to start arguments or more likely to try and keep the peace?

With others or each other?

Till hates conflict. Like, really hates it. Avoids at all costs, which is one reason why people sometimes get concerned about him when he's alone (for example, Paul was unhappy Till was alone for the Mutter video because he does whatever he's told even if it's unsafe or otherwise not good).

Richard himself had said he never really argues with Till.

With the rest of the band Richard seems to start a fair amount of arguments, though they aren't as bad as the whole Mutter fiasco. Paul is just as bad though, if not worse. He isn't the absolute Diva people boil him down to. They apparently argued much less the making of the last album because he brought someone in to mediate and they started actually listening to each other for a change.

Schneider claims to be a kind of mediator who can unite the two sides of the band once arguments start, whereas Till seems more like he tries to placate everyone or leave them to it while he eats gummy bears on the couch and tells them they're freaking him out (this is reportedly a real thing that happened).

#me rambling

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hanhan156 · 5 years ago

Text

Hanhan’s October writing challenge: Rammstein Halloween pt #8

I have no idea how I ended up making up a story about Richard and Paul being Sherlock and John from this prompt, but here we go!

I think the October challenge is going to be for me October-November challenge while - believe it or not - I happen to have another life besides writing as well and some days, I just don't have the energy to come up with any new stories. For me, it's most important to publish stuff I actually like even though it might take some more time than expected.

But yeah, enough rambling and let's go to the story. ^^ Enjoy!

The prompt: After hearing about an abandoned house in the neighborhood that was supposedly the scene of a gruesome crime years earlier, the character and a friend or two decide to explore the property.

#8: The best detectives of Berlin

“A 55-year-old woman has just been found dead from an abandoned house in the outskirts of Berlin. Police are investigating, but no signs of crime have been found yet…”

“Just some old hag who had forgotten to take her medicine. I’m bored already.”

Paul sighed and put the newspaper away. “Just to remind you that the ‘old hag’ is almost the same age as us.”

“Whatever.” Richard didn’t want to admit to himself that he was middle-aged already. In his mind, he wanted to stay in his twenties forever. He absolutely loved how much it annoyed his partner when he acted like a teenage diva on purpose - like now when he kept doing his favorite activities: throwing daggers at a portrait of Till Lindemann, the chief police officer he loved to hate, and smoking home-grown tobacco. Paul was constantly worried that the bitter smell would never vanish from their apartment.

Occasionally, the dagger hit the wall instead of the picture. “For heaven’s sake, Reesh! You know very well what Frau Schneider has said about ruining her apartment. What if we are kicked out?”

But Richard didn’t listen to his partner - as always, he kept doing what he wanted.

Luckily, Paul knew his cocky partner already so well that he had learned how to have his attention. Even though there was a slight risk to be stabbed by a dagger, he insolently sat on Richard’s lap and dumped his cigarette. “So, do you want to talk to me now?” he said and cupped his lover’s cheeks.

Richard hated how Paul always managed to dominate him. “What is it now, Paulchen?” he asked and tried his best to sound innocent.

“I think we should take a look in that house and figure out what has actually happened. I have a feeling that there is something fishy in this case.”

Richard raised an eyebrow. “To go to that ancient shack to prove that the old lady just went crazy and died of a drug overdose? No thanks.”

“Reesh, you are visibly bored to death. This is your chance to shine again. Admit that you love the attention.”

“I’m not bored! Couldn’t you see how busy I was before you interrupted me?”

Paul sighed. “I mean that you need a case to solve. Your brain is rotting here while you spend the whole day in your bathrobe, doing bizarre experiments in your microwave and throwing daggers at Lindemann’s face.” He took his partner’s hand in his own. “You’re like an animal in a cage. Please, let’s go together to investigate this, for the old times’ sake.”

Scheisse, now I know what this all is about… “That freaking Lindemann has asked for your help and you didn’t tell me anything.” He turned his head and mumbled: “His team is full of idiots, so no wonder they can never solve anything without me.”

“You should be flattered that they are at least still asking for your help even though you treat them like an ass!”

Richard looked at his partner’s begging eyes - he knew he had lost this battle already. Verdammt. “Okay, let’s fucking do it then, but I’m not doing it for the police, I’m doing it just for you.”

“Wunderbar!” Paul exclaimed and leaned forward to meet his partner’s lips.

The sweet kissing moment ended too soon when their landlady, Frau Schneider, broke in the flat. She always came without prior warning - in her opinion, it was her right to come and go as she wanted in her own house, even though there were tenants living there nowadays.

“Boys, come downstairs to have bratwurst and beer!” she shouted from the door and then, her gaze moved to the ruined wall. “Gott im Himmel, what have you done to my apartment again?”

“It was Richard,” Paul answered and got a piercing look from his partner.

The floor creaked ominously when Paul was running to keep up the pace of his partner who was visibly having the time of his life while investigating the eerie, wrecked house.

“So, have you found any clues yet?”

“What do you think? Of course, I have.”

Paul stopped at his place. “Would you mind to tell me about them, so I could know what is going on here.”

“Just look around you, they are obvious. Even a kid could see them.”

“Es tut mir leid, but just to remind you that not everybody has the superbrain of yours, so could you kindly explain to me.”

“I’ll tell you later, let’s keep investigating. The game is on.”

They made their way upstairs and Paul tried his best not to step on the shattered glass scattered everywhere. What in bloody hell has happened here? Poor lady…

In the living room, Richard rushed immediately next to a dark spot on the floor and pointed at it. “The corpse was lying here.” He crouched and put his nose in the spot.

“Seriously, do you really have to smell everything? There has been a dead person just a couple of days ago! Have some manners…”

“Of course you have to use all the senses you have!” Even though how much I love you, I just don’t get how simple-minded you really are sometimes…

And even worse was coming when Richard wiped the bloodstains of the spot with his bare hands and licked his fingers.

“Reesh, that’s enough! Have you ever happened to hear about blood-borne diseases like hepatitis, HIV…”

The detective turned to his partner and said with an impassive voice: “I know very well you are a doctor but that doesn’t make you any smarter, mein Liebling.”

“You dumbass, of course, I didn’t try to sound smart! I just don’t want you to get a fatal disease, for heaven’s sake.”

“Enough of this nonsense, let’s continue. We have a job to do.”

They stepped into the bathroom. Richard investigated the toilet seat, wiping something gross from it when his partner didn’t see.

“Reesh, you should take a look at this…” Paul said when he saw what was written - apparently, with somebody’s blood - inside the shower cubicle.

MEIN HERREN, EVEN THOUGH HOW CLEVER YOU THINK YOU ARE, I’M AFRAID YOU HAVE BEEN WRONG THIS WHOLE TIME. TAKE A SECOND LOOK AND YOU WILL BE GRANTED WITH SURPRISES…

-FOREVER YOURS, CFL-

“W-what on earth is that? And who the hell is CFL?” Does he have a secret, murderous lover somewhere who wants to avenge?

“I have no idea, but it’s fascinating indeed,” the detective managed to say before they both startled to death when they heard a loud rattle behind them. Paul took his pistol from the holster.

In no time, they saw what had made the noise: it had been a tall, slender man in a tuxedo, now blocking the bathroom door. “Ah, Guten Abend, Herren Kruspe und Landers!” The man with messy black hair had a gun in his hand and something - which looked like hand grenades - on his belt. “My warmest welcomes!” He stepped closer and took Richard’s hand, looking at him straight in the eyes. “I am a huge fan of your work Herr Kruspe and I’m glad to see you are back!”

Paul stuttered: “W-who are you and w-what d-do you want from us?” The pistol was trembling in his hand but he did his best to protect his partner. “Reesh, why is he acting like you two know each other?”

“Brilliant, just brilliant,” Richard said unexpectedly to the intruder and they grinned at each other like partners in crime.

“W-what the hell? This g-guy with a gun and grenades just broke in and you think it’s…brilliant?!”

Richard turned to his lover. “Yes! Finally some challenges. I can’t wait to hear what he wants from us.”

This is really just a game for him? “You can’t be fucking serious…”

The intruder got impatient and raised his gun, pointing at them both now. “Enough bullshit, let’s go back to business, shall we?” The grin on his face didn’t fade and Paul was sure he must be a lunatic. “We are playing with my rules now, so in case you want to stay alive, you must listen carefully and obey.”

#rammstein #31horrificdays #richard kruspe #paul landers #till lindemann #frau schneider #sherlock au #detective au #halloween fic #october challenge #my fics

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