#bern replies

[randomnameless]

I think anon was referring to that one user with the orange hair pfp, who complained that people were gaslighting them on how Supreme Leader lets Bernie die in Gronder field.

Oh?

I haven't followed this trainwreck, but I remember an earlier one where people really argued that it was a "bug" and Supreme Leader would never set the pyre on flames to bern Burnie.

I mean, sure, Burnie isn't on flames like Siggy and Flora because her tile isn't berning, so technically she's not part of the Fire Gang with Siggy's friends and Flora - but fire jokes are fire jokes and while FE16 is a 78% finished product, Bernie has enough lines referencing burning to make this scenario - Supreme Leader setting the hill on fire - plausible, and not a bug.

[fayesdiary]

congrats on finishing all the routes (and hats off, as someone who played them all back-to-back from the prologue for every run, I know how exhausting that can be)--what were your favorite songs if you had any? (I know God Shattering Star is a fan-favorite and I do love it a lot, but honestly I love Funeral of Flowers the best despite SS being very eh for me). And who ended up being some of your strongest units (any run)?

Definitely most of the timeskip music. Barring God-Shattering Star, Chasing Daybreak, The Long Road and Indomitable Will are peak. Funeral of Flowers is great too! and pretty much the only saving grace of the SS ending

As for strongest units, well... I turned my Bernadetta in the BE routes into a complete monster, a Falcon Knight with a Vengeance + Vantage & Wrath, making her a nigh-unstoppable murder machine that I used to violently assassinate people and end maps super fast. Pretty much her only weaknesses were crit-immune enemies and attacks out of her range (that you could always patch up with Retribution so). By far my strongest unit in CF and still helped quite a bit the times she got pulled out of retirement in SS. I affectionately dubbed her the Bern Reaper. Even gave her the Crescent Sickles too, so😂

Seteth filled a similar niche of "Not just kill but murder the boss so I don't have to play the map" in Part 2 of Silver Snow, since I mainly used the Church stuff for that one. Plus Dorothea as a Dancer and the Bern Reaper for additional carnage.

[annebrontesrequiem]

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[brummiereader]

Binding Love (Part Six/ Dark!Tommy)

Summary: Your new life, far away from the soot and fog, from your husband's raging paranoia and murders committed in the name of love, has feelings of guilt surface as your daughter continues to demand the whereabouts of her father. But even the false hope of a bright future faces jeopardy when you run into a familiar face in your small hamlet as Tommy spirals into madness back home in Birmingham.

Warnings: Dark!Tommy, language, violence, psychological mind games, controlling behaviour, toxic relationship, manipulative behaviour, psychological abuse, mutual pining, angst, murder, suicidal thoughts, use of one racial slur.

Word Count: 3K

[Masterlist] [Previous Part] [Trailer]

"Back again so soon" the raven-haired woman with a stack of jangling gold bangles and bulky stoned rings adorning her skin squinted with a smirk as she looked up through the midday sun to your husband hovering over the fire she had lit, its ashes swirling into the chilly winter skies.

" 10 shillings. One reading" Tommy blew a cloud of smoke down to her rising feet. The length of her dress trailed in mud from her hardened life on the road her free spirit called to, flowing behind her as she walked to her wagon.

" 20" she replied, knobbly fingers curling around the framed door to her home with an ushering nod of her head for your husband to follow her into the rickety wooden trailer, to the smell of sandalwood and frankincense burning as she placed the small gas lantern clutched in her hand onto its stand.

"15. And this time, you'll tell me where she is" Tommy's eyes darkened, grabbing her chin between his fingers as she hissed into her cushioned seat to the small table clothed in red and the stack of cards sat in the center.

Three times in one week Tommy had made the journey to the old woman's lonely wagon atop of the rocky field in the green pastures of the Black Country by horseback. Each time seeking answers to the burning question of your whereabouts that had sent him into a spiraling madness in the short time he had spent imprisoned. A time short lived thanks to his trusted friend Johnny Dogs knack and acquired skill at the removal and disposal of dead bodies.

But in the time that was spent pacing back and forth in his iron-clad cell, Tommy had entered a state of mind far darker than he'd entered with. With only whispered gossip leading to empty ends, your husband had resorted to the only thing his maddening mind sought. Other worldly guidance. His last and only chance to find you and his daughter.

"The child's toy" the wild haired woman's hand snapped out, crimson talons grabbing Elsie's cherished pony from your husband's fingers as her piercing eyes roamed over the shuffled cards, head gesturing with a snap for Tommy to pick the response he yearned to dull the torture he felt inside.

" Speak, old woman" Tommy demanded her toying response from her as he forced the card in her hand over onto the table.

" Thrashing waves, she stands on the cliff's edge. Your bern in her arms" her giggling voice watched the widening stare of your husband with satisfaction, his jaw clenching at the same card that had been dealt over and over again to his waiting eyes as she pushed it across the table with a cackle. "The Fool"

" LIAR!" Tommy's voice roared, toppling the array of cards onto the carpeted wagon as he lunged forward, straining hands grasping the throat of the woman whose many predictions had seeped into his unstable mind.

" New beginnings, freedom!" she gasped through your husband's tightening fingers as he cocked his head to her changing words.

" Go on" his brow raised as her life balanced precariously on the edge of Tommy's crazed moral compass and the response from her he would deem satisfactory or not.

" A new journey awaits her. But! But...one step off the cliff's edge, and she'll fall into danger. She needs your guidance to...to keep her safe" the jolting words had his fingers releasing from around her neck as she clawed at her drying throat.

Tossing but a single shilling at her feet, Tommy placed a fresh cigarette between his lips, fingers striking the aspen match against its box as he walked out of her disheveled home.

"But a fool you are, Thomas Shelby. And too late" she quietly seethed with a menacing giggle, throwing the measly bronze coin from her as your husband snapped back at her vapid words and manic laugh with fury, flicking the lit match into the pile of tarot cards with a heavy slam to the door that saw the precariously seated gaslight fall to the carpeted floors.

Locked within the flames, screams of pain, of death rolled over the fields of England as Tommy drew his gun from his holster, pushing the metal barrel to his temple.

" I'm coming, darling" he closed his eyes with a whisper at the image of you and Elsie flickering behind his lids, yearning to be reunited with you in the watery death he believed you had succumbed to.

With the click of the trigger, Tommy fell to the ground, only for his eyes to snap open to the earthy bed of grass surrounding him and a pair of laced boots approaching him through his fluttering lashes.

" Heaven doesn't want you, Tom. And hell's too afraid you'll take over" Arthur's voice and reaching arm pulled him up from the ground, hand full of unspent bullets clutched within the calloused pads of his fingers.

" 'ere" he pulled a silver flask of whiskey from within his tailored waistcoat, eyes turning from the blackening wagon as his stomach churned in disgust at the smell of burning flesh.

" You're right, brother" Tommy swigged back the sharp notes of spice and oak, believing the other worldly forces he had sought had intervened and not that of his brothers' hindsight to remove the beckoning call of death Tommy had answered to.

Unable to stand the gruesome trail of dead bodies that had accompanied Tommy to the four corners of England in search of you, Arthur waited by the car as your husband watched the collapsing walls of the old woman's wagon fall apart into charred blackness.

Rising from the muddied ground, your husband squinted through the fumes until he reached the remains of the dead woman and your daughter's pony still intact in her hands. A distorted sign of proof to your husband, that you were both still alive.

" Fuck sake" Tommy's brows knitted together as the disintegrating mane of Elsie's horse disappeared between his fingers, the small toy holding more importance than the body at his feet he stepped over without an ounce of remorse as he walked down the grassy hill to the waving hand of Johnny Dogs stood with Arthur by his car.

" Tom...Tom, she's been spotted" Johnny's arm looped around Tommy's back with a nodding grin, patting the slouching chest of your husband with a small picturesque postcard of a seaside town in his hand as your husband hunched over with welling eyes of relief darting to the greying skies.

"Seems heavens still on my side, eh boys?"

"Elsie shut the door" you pulled your chin from the palm of your hand as you sat against the bay window watching your daughter, muddy boots and unkempt hair traipsing through the kitchen.

"Elsie!" your patience snapped as she continued to ignore you, kicking her shoes off before running out of sight upstairs with a string of demands to see her father following her stomping feet before the slam of her bedroom door closed shut.

"Fuck..." you pinched the thumping headache between your brows as you stood up, swinging the creaking door shut as your eyes darted down to the lock.

Did you want him to get out and find you? Haul you back to Arrow House? Was that what you wanted now? you thought to yourself as the tips of your fingers brushed over the brassy handle.

Anything would be better than this, you snatched your hand away as your welling eyes and slow steps plodded you back to your spot by the window you had set up camp for the past week.

Your new home. Your new life. A small bricked cottage by the white cliffs of Dover, a large garden for Elsie to play in, a crackling fire for you and your daughter to curl up to on long winter nights. Far from Birmingham, far from the fog and soot, far from your husband and his raging paranoia. It was everything you had hoped it would be. And yet, you still longed for him. Still dreamed of him. Was he dreaming of you?

"I'm sorry" you clutched your wedding band looped through the chain around your neck. The binding gold ring you had once expelled to the small dish on your vanity, now permanently settled against your heart as you spent your days dwelling in regret.

For guilt had become your closest companion in the past weeks, a companion that would join you in the evenings when your daughter lay sound in her bed, and you knocked back the rapidly dwindling bottle of whiskey stuffed behind the frilly pillow on the bay window as you gazed out at the waves, mind drifting to Tommy.

Was it the empty void of Tommy's paranoia no longer filling your days that had you regretting your choice? Or was it Elsie's constant questions about the whereabouts of her father that had you wishing you could turn back the clocks of time, to forgive and forget? your mind plagued you as the sacrifices you were willing to make as a mother if it meant making your daughter happy seeped into your thoughts. After all, he was only trying to keep you safe, wasn't he?

"Y/N?" a voice and the creak of your front door opening drifted to you as the detective that had arranged your witness protection strode through.

"You should be keeping this shut" he shoved his raised gun back into its holster with a disappointed huff, thumbling with the rickety lock as your frowning face approached him.

Why did he have his gun raised? Tommy was in jail. You was safe, wasn't you? you stepped forward with a head full of concerning questions when Elsie came running down the stairs.

" Daddy!" your six-year-old screeched, mistaking the gravelly voice for her fathers as she came to a stumbling stop at the bottom of the stairs.

" Hello Elsie, look what I found for you" he bent down to her small frame, handing her a newly purchased pony, locks wrapped in a red ribbon.

" Elsie" you nodded to her with a stern face to thank the gentlemen as her sulking lips and swaying legs quietly accepted the horse.

" Thank you" she sniffed, turning the poor replacement for the one Tommy had first brought her in her hand as her pleading eyes looked up at you to let her leave.

" Go on" you let her go, hands threading through the ends of her locks as she hurried back upstairs with another slam to her door.

" She'll adjust" the officer guided you to the kitchen clearing his throat, deciding not to put another dousing of stress into your already difficult day with the news of Tommy's release.

" Tea?" he asked, watching you fall into your spot by the window with a passing nod of your head.

With a fresh brew of Earl Grey cupped within your palms, you scooted your feet back as the detective settled himself opposite you on the wooden bench.

" How are you?" his questions tore your from the bottom of the garden and the swinging gate, toing and froing.

Tommy, your heart jumped with muddled emotions of both fear and relief that he'd found you as a gust of wind battered against the window, and you slouched back into your seat with disappointment.

" Fine" you absently responded, gaze drifting over the unkempt grass outside, looping your necklace tightly around your finger as the muffling chatter from the officer continued.

You could be as cold as him, as callous as him, you tried to convince yourself that you possessed the same darkness as your husband, that you could ignore his misgivings if it meant hushing the sounds of codependency you still shared with him.

" So, how about it?" the detective's voice drifted back into your preoccupied thoughts as his heavy hand cupped your knee.

" Sorry?" you scrambled to understand what you had missed as you pulled your cardigan around your body, shielding yourself from his roaming eyes your absent mind had let go unnoticed.

" Take you out, so you can let your hair down?" he sent you a playful smile, lips curled around the warm mug of tea as your scrunching brow and his misplaced affections had you rising to your feet with a fumbling cascade of apologies.

" I'm sorry, I'm just...I don't think, I don't think I'll be in the mood" you politely refused his offer, suddenly feeling vulnerable, suddenly desperate for your husband's overbearing protectiveness as the officer stalked towards you.

" Maybe when I pop by next time then?" he smiled, brushing a lock of hair from your flinching face as you stepped back, feeling like you had given the wrong impression after the countless times you had welcomed him into your new home, the countless times he had made the long journey from the midlands to check on your safety you accepted feeling indebted to him.

" M-hm" you wordlessly replied as you slipped behind the kitchen table to the front door, hoping he'd get the hint and follow you out.

" Take care Y/N, and lock that door" he squeezed your arm with a wink, fingers waving to Elsie stood at the top of the stairs with her father's infamous Shelby scowl staring him down.

Pulling his coat around him from the icy winds, he came to a stop along the cobbled path, mumbling his appetite for you as he turned to see you stood by your open door, only your cardi shielding you from the bitter cold and the thin nightie underneath.

" Pretty little thing, ain't you just" he turned back to his car with a pleased smile as his partner raced towards him.

" Boss! Boss, there's a road block that's causing chaos down by the turning" he breathlessly informed the seasoned officer as he clutched onto the wooden fencing.

"I've had a Shepard ranting and raving for me to do something for the past thirty minutes, Sir " the young officer looked up at the creasing brow of his superior, watching him walk to his waiting car with a shake of his head. "Sir?"

" Not our district, son" he slipped into his car turning the ignition, tires rolling past your coastal cottage to the bend in the path and said road block with a disgruntled huff at the sight in front of him.

" Fucking gypsies" his fingers tightened around the wheel, eyes honing in on the empty wagon abandoned in the middle of the road and the Shepard's failing attempts to keep control of his herd as his dogs snapping jaw barked at the wooden block in the road, when a tap to his window and a grinning stout man with thumbs hooked under the suspenders of his trousers appeared outside of his car.

" Top of the morning to you, officer"

"The fresh air will do you good. Do us both good" your attempts to convince your child quickly fell short as you marched along the frosty ground in the freezing temperatures that came with living by the sea.

" Can we go home now?" she looked up at you with wind-nipped cheeks and a reddened nose as you battled with the bagful of shopping between your numbing fingers.

" I just need to pop into the corner shop..." you were cut off by your daughter coming to a scowling stop and a stomp of her foot as she pulled her mittened hand from yours.

" Back to Daddy, back to Birmingham Mummy!" she shuffled her feet against the icy cement, doe eyes pulling at the withering strings of your heart as she looked up at you.

" Elsie..." you sighed, crouching down to her as you adjusted your poor attempt at a knitted wooly hat over her ears, clueless on what to say, knowing she was too young to understand the complexities of her parents' relationship, and the gruesome things her father had done in the name of love. " Darling, I..."

" Mrs Shelby, I thought it was you. Didn't I tell you Mildred, I wasn't seeing things" the nattering of an elderly lady accompanied by her friend walking arm in arm shuffled towards you along the slippery ground as you bolted up with widening eyes, head snapping over your shoulder to see the last person you wished to see approaching you.

"Just last week, I was certain I saw you down by the bakery" she came to a stop in front of you, gleaming eyes patiently waiting for your response.

" Mrs Cross" you pulled your daughter into your body as the woman who was known as Small Heath's biggest gossiper, just so happened to be in the same hamlet in the same godforsaken freezing ends of England at the same time as you smiled to you and your daughter.

" What are...are you here on holiday?" you swallowed back your mounting panic, desperately trying to shroud your nerves with a pleasant smile of surprise.

" Goodness no, not in this weather" her brow furrowed at the pointy icicles hanging over head as she adjusted her fur coat around her frail body.

"A bereavement in the family" she clarified when questions about your unexpected appearance in Dover spilled from her inquisitive mind.

" And you?" her glistening eyes peaked with curiosity, eager for a new topic of conversation for her and her friend to natter over during their afternoon tea.

" Just a small getaway" you lied, keeping things brief as you clutched the bag of potatoes and parsnips for the soup you envisioned warming your shivering bones in your hand, knowing too well how quickly anything that sounded untoward would travel back to Birmingham at the speed of light if you let your tongue slip.

" Some much needed family time together, hm?" her observing eyes scanned behind you, expecting to see your husband accompanying you on said getaway.

" Yes, just the three of us" you lied for a second time through eager smiles at the blissful image of a happy family spending time in a quaint cottage by the coast you hoped the nosey resident of your hometown envisioned as your daughter's head darted up at you with a frown of confusion.

" How lovely" her attentions drifted to your daughter's eyes cast down in a sorrowful gaze at the slippery pavement and the lone strand of graze stuck beneath the sheath of ice that covered it. " Is that not so, Miss Elsie?"

" I want to go home" your daughter sniffled her response, while your fingers squeezed tightly around the corded bag in your hand as your heart began to rapidly thud against your chest at the gossiping woman's questions that could worm out the real reason why you was currently in the small deserted village if the unfiltered honesty of your child elaborated.

" Oh sweet child, you've not missed out on anything, my dear. Just last week I sent a postcard back with news from my end. And my neighbour Ethel diligently informed me that our little town is the same as it has always been" she informed your child with a gentle pinch on her plump cheek as her words hurtled a thousand worries to you.

Did she tell her gossiping conspirator that she had seen you? Had news gotten back to Tommy about your whereabouts? you began to panic as a ball of unease settled in your stomach, when your taunting mind reminded you of your sentiments that morning with one last question. But isn't that what you wanted, him to come find you?

"It was lovely seeing you Mrs Cross, but we must be off. Goodbye" you sharply turned on your heel, leaving your muddled emotions with the elderly duo curiously watching you scurry away with your child's dragging feet behind you.

" Strange Mildred" the old lady's eyes narrowed in on you slipping behind the cobbled wall of the corner shop before turning back to her friend with a knitted brow.

" What is, dear?" her shivering companion queried as she watched her baring along the slippery ground.

" Where is, Mr Shelby?"

With your daughter tucked safely asleep in her bed, you wrapped the ties of your dressing gown around your body, padding to your bedroom window and the flickering candle sat on top of the windowsill as you waited for the reassuring presence of the cop car that would roll past your home every night.

" Slowly" your husband commanded the detective as he sat behind the driver's seat of the unmarked car with the barrel of his gun pointed to the side of the officer's head.

"We wouldn't want to give her a fright, now would we?" Tommy's smile contorted into a malicious smirk as they slowly approached your house, the frightening scene shielded by the dark confides of the car and cloudy night skies.

" Well would you look at that. There she is. My wife" Tommy's eyes darted to you stood at the window as a sigh of relief left his throat upon seeing you after weeks of waiting. Heart momentarily overcome with satisfaction, with love, before his anger for your daring actions shrouded the moment.

" Go on, flash the lights. You're scaring her" Tommy demanded, scooting forward in the leather-padded seat upon seeing your head dart up and down the lonesome road in a panic as his gun burrowed into the quivering man's skull.

With the blinking confirmation of the headlights reassuring you of your safety, you sent a short wave of gratitude as your nightie fell open, revealing your thin slip underneath that had the detective snap his head away, nervously clearing his throat.

" You enjoy watching my wife, you fucking perv, eh?" Tommy's anger snapped in the mumbling man's ear as the officer scooted in his seat away from the exposed sight of you.

" Just doing as I'm told" he nervously darted his shifted gaze to the rear-view mirror and the darkened reflection of Tommy sat behind him, eyes shadowed by his peaked cap and the lies his searing stare were reading through. Lies that only confirmed his need to protect you, to keep you safe.

" Go" Tommy ordered him with a nod of his head to the road ahead of them as you blew out the burning candle before returning to the warmth of your lonely bed. Oblivious of who was behind the wheel of your nightly patrol and the man accompanying him.

"Please" the officer pleaded for his life to the sound of the rumbling wheels coming to a steady stop along the gritted path as Tommy's reaching hand pulled the key from the ignition.

" Sorry officer, threes a crowd" he swiftly pulled his cap from his head, slicing the shining blade across the man's throat. Inflicting a bloody gurgling death on the detective until he succumbed to the liters of blood pooling in his lap and lifelessly fell forward onto the wheel.

Crimson stained gloves pinched around the cigarette in his hand, Tommy's long coated frame stood in front of the rear headlights of the abandoned car as a cloud of smoke parted in front of his eyes to the emerging sight of the picturesque cottage you and your daughter slept peacefully inside of.

" Sweet dreams, my darlings"

Next Part

Tag list: @peakyswritings @justrainandcoffee @garrison-girl-08 @meadows5 @lavender-haze-01

@strangeobsessed @ttae-yong @lemonwithstupidity @lindsay00000 @mischievouslittlecreature

@jbrownta @lau219 @whereismymindnow @honeymoon8 @bruhidkjustwannaread

@strrvnge @paintedinpinks @edgyficuselastica @strangeions @youngbananamilkshake

[pedriache]

what if… saka fic where the reader/oc is scared he’s fallen out of love w her and he reassures her 😓😓

Wait till you get home — Bukayo Saka.

Pairing: Bukayo Saka x Fem!Reader

Summary: Bukayo had been distant, leading you to believe he wasn’t as in love with you—if even, anymore. That was not the case and Bukayo’s actual reasoning for it, was not what you expected.

Word count: 745+

Disclaimer/s: Angst to fluff !

A/N: Hi Nilah bae I hope you like ^_^ i lowk gave up

The house had a cold atmosphere around it. You’d stress cleaned the entire house and more. You were doing everything to keep your mind from running to the places you’d been avoiding all week.

And that was, your boyfriend. Out of seemingly nowhere two weeks ago, he started to grow distant. He took you out less, kissed you less.. he just wasn’t acting normal.

At first, you pushed it aside. He was under a lot of stress, maybe that was why. Then, when it didn’t go away, your thoughts darkened. A small part of you even thinking that maybe, just maybe, he was falling out of love.

The sound of the front door clicking open had you freezing mid vacuuming. Your eyes snap up, landing on your boyfriend. He was sweaty, meaning he hadn’t showered before leaving.

You had waited for him to come home all day to talk, but seeing him now? You couldn’t get yourself to.

“Hey.” Bukayo greets, kicking off his shoes and setting his bag on the ground. Before you had a chance to reply, Bukayo’s eyes sweep around the house, his eyebrows knitting together. “How long have you bern cleaning?”

Your tongue pokes at your cheek, “all day.” You mumble.

“All day?” He repeats your words, taking slow steps in your direction. “Why?”

Shifting on your feet, you turn to unplug the vacuum. “Do I need a reason to clean?” Your words come out harsher than you meant to, taking Bukayo by surprise.

“You don’t deep clean unless you’re extra stressed.” He’s by your side, hand wrapping around your bicep, “what’s going on?”

Your body tenses at his touch. Eyes flickering down to his hand, you frown. That’s the longest he’d even bothered touching you in weeks. A bitter taste forms in your mouth. “Nothing. Do you want dinner?”

Dropping his hand, Bukayo sighs. “I can make it, what do you want?”

Wrapping the chord around its hook, you set the vacuum aside. “I already ate, so, I don’t want anything. Plus, you need to shower. I’ll made you something.”

Your cold, snappy words had Bukayo stopping in his tracks. “Okay, what’s wrong?” He turns to face you, tilting his head to the side and giving you a warning look. “And don’t lie this time. Please?”

Gaze drifting to the floor, you shuffle uncomfortably. “Fine. You. You’re what’s wrong.” You spare him a small glance, eyes filled with concern.

Bukayo’s expression flattens, “what?”

“Don’t play stupid! You’ve been so distant for the last few weeks! Are you like—I don’t know, are you not in love with me anymore? Am I making your life difficult or—“ You clamp your mouth shut, stopping the rambling.

When you look up, your boyfriend stared at you with his mouth agape, words failing him. He collects himself, “That is the furthest thing from the truth. Where is that even coming from? Of course I love you!” His hands fly up in defense, “Baby, I—“ His mouth purses, motioning with his hands for you to come to him.

Refusing, you shake your head. “No, no. I just want answers! Why are you being weird and distant!”

Bukayo taps his foot against the wooden floor. “I was planning a surprise party for you. Your birthday is coming up and I didn’t want to spoil it. You know I can’t keep secrets! I didn’t think I was being that distant.” His confession leaves you, well—stunned.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You laugh, “I literally—you had me so worried! Oh my..” You stop talking, planting your hands on your hips. “That’s a sweet gesture, but seriously, you could have gone about it so much differently.”

Bukayo takes a few steps till he reaches you, “I apologize profusely.” He takes your face in his hands, his words ringing sincere.

Leaning into his touch you let out a long sigh. “Okay, okay. I believe you.”

“And, I love you, obviously.” He continues, “always.”

Chuckling, you nod your head. “I love you, too. Always.” When Bukayo leans in for a kiss, you dodge his face. “Shower first! Please. You stink.”

Bukayo rolls his eyes, “it’s not that bad.”

“Well..” You shrug, “shower first. I’ll make you dinner, then you can come back to me for that kiss, okay?”

Reluctantly nodding, Bukayo lets go of your face and makes his way toward the bathroom. “I’ll be quick!” He announces over his shoulder.

“Counting on it!” You laugh, opening the fridges door.

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future posts.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @sakashq @hrts4havertz @spidybaby @joaoflms !

[landerspaul]

Hey! Do you have some favourite pictures of Paul? Especially from the stadium tour maybe? Would love to see your pics ☺️

Hi Anon! 💚\(≧ᴗ≦*)

Thank you for this ask! Sorry it has taken me a while to reply, but there are so many photos I love of Paul that I was actually struggling to pick just a few and not post all the ones I have on my phone and computer. 🙃

I'll start with three* some of my favorites. (´▽｀)

As for the photos of the tour, since I have endless ones that I love, I have decided to show you my favorite ones that I have taken on 18.06.2023 in Bern, the first time I saw Rammstein in front row, which was a dream come true. I apologize in advance for the potato 🥔 quality.

Bonus: Screenshots of a video I made of Paul observing a flamethrower that malfunctioned. You can see the gifset here. 🔥👀

*I tried to pick only three but failed. (◔ ω ◔)

[peppermintmagicianlynn]

TimBer Week 2024: Bernard's Birthday

TimBer Week 2024 Day #6: Bernard's Birthday

This one is set in an AU where the Grieves Trio made it to senior year. Oh, also Darla has magic. Because.

--

“Happy birthday, you filthy animal!”

Bernard had two seconds to turn around and brace himself before Darla came flying into his arms. He managed to catch and spin for two rotations before he started to wobble. Luckily, Tim was there to support both of their weight. Other students sent them dirty looks for blocking the school hallway, but the trio paid them no mind. They were always like this.

“Thanks Dal, but I feel that in light of my new age, you should add Mister or Sir in there.”

She gave him a remarkably unimpressed look, considering she was clinging to him like a koala. “Or I could turn you into a frog and you can just be a filthy animal.” She raised two fingers, letting them spark with red magic as a threat.

Bernard, who never backed down from anything, replied. “As long as Tim will kiss me back to a prince, go for it. That’s the best Birthday gift I could want.”

Tim let them both fall into a giggling heap on the floor.

—

“But what do you actually want for your birthday, Bern?” Tim kept his tone casual, hoping to offset how badly he want to hold hos boyfriend’s hand as they walked the halls to lunch. They did that now and then, but Tim didn’t feel like glaring at all the shit-talkers who had a problem with their PDA. He wanted all of his attention ready for what Bernard would say next.

“You know I don’t,” the blond replied, bumping their shoulders together. “My parents max out my gift limit every time a sale comes out. I guess they think if they preemptively get me stuff, I won’t ask for anything else during the holidays. I don’t know if I’m more annoyed that that plan always works or that they know me enough to get things I actually kind of like. I hope to God they aren’t secretly mind-readers.”

“Nah, you’re just easy to read. If the Dowds were mind-readers, they would know about our plan to get you into culinary school and skip out on that biomed college you got a scholarship for. Just 7 more months before I can get the trust fund Mom left me.”

“If you’re not going to let me fight crime with you, you don’t get to pay my way through life. That was the deal, remember?”

“Hey,” Darla clapped her hands to cut off their bickering, “less sugar-baby debates and more discussions about birthday fun. This a big year, guys; we have to do something for it!”

“We’re not going to Trampoline Planet again, are we?”

“I think we’re banned from there, babe.”

“Yeah, but Aquista money gets us into a lot of places we’ve been banned from.”

Darla ignored them both, using her phone to quickly google some ideas for how to celebrate a friend’s birthday. She saw a promising idea though it would be very hard to pull off on such short notice. Maybe if she asked her mother… Darla glanced behind her, where Bern and Tim were shoving each other and giggling like saps. As long as they were distracted, Darla might manage to send some texts out and get this done.

Bernard would love it.

--

“Thank you everyone for joining today’s French Cuisine class!” Despite her heavy French accent, the instructor was bright and peppy as she grinned out over the class. “We arranged for this lesson on very short notice, I know, but I am glad to see so many of you are here. Our dish for today: a simple and elegant chocolate soufflé!”

Bernard squealed in delight.

As soon as school had let out, Darla threw them into her limo and had her drivers take them to the local community center. There was a cooking class that had spontaneously decided to host a lesson this afternoon and there were exactly three open spots available, which was just so perfect as their Bernard-Birthday activity! She’d pointedly ignored Tim’s suspicious glare while taking in Bernard’s sun-bright grin. The only thing he loved more than conspiracy theories (but less than trolling his friends) was learning new dishes.

Tim, however, had some reservations. The instructor had provided neatly drawn diagrams on the whiteboard to help if they got lost, but the detective could only stare at them like he was in desperate need of a codebreaker. He might excel in chemistry, but the baking arts still eluded him at times. Bernard offered him an empathetic pat on the back, taking a moment to admire his cute boyfriend in his sleek black apron they’d all been given, but really couldn’t contain his excitement for this class. Chocolate soufflés were one of Bernard’s favorite desserts and he was stoked to learn how to make them himself.

While the instructor went on with her explanation of the ingredients, Bernard gave her his full attention. Tim leaned into Darla's side to hiss, “We could have just cone to a restaurant, you know.”

“He loves interactive junk like this. Plus, we have a professional here so you can’t burn the place down.”

“I’m not taking that from the witch-wannabe who blew up a microwave. You’re lucky Raven owed me a favor, or else you’d have Shadowpact on your ass.”

“I couldn’t figure out how to change the temperature settings! Besides, you did worse. Dana still doesn’t know about the ‘additions’ you made to her food processor, does she?!”

Bernard placed a hand on either of their dark-haired heads and turned them gently to look towards the front of the room instead of shooting glares at one another. The rest of the class had already started following instructions, but the teacher was sending the three of them dirty looks for slacking off. You could tell she wasn’t fond of having rambunctious teenagers in her oh-so-elegant French cuisine class. The trio arranged themselves to the ‘innocent angels’ formation and this seemed to convince her they were not going to be any more trouble. Naïve.

Despite Tim's worries, they worked well together even in the kitchen. Tim chopped the chocolate, Darla measured the ingredients, and Bernard cracked the eggs and stirred the pot while they poured everything in as needed. Bernard laughed at the faces they made when he started zesting the orange peel into the chocolate. "I promise you, if you avoid the white parts, this does help make it delicious."

Darla opened her mouth to make a joke, but Tim pinched her before she could get the first syllable out, turning her word into a shriek. This got them yet another aggravated glare from the teacher, and Bernard quickly put the zester out of reach before it could become a weapon.

When it was time to whip the eggwhites, Bernard left it to Tim. He made a hesitant face when Bernard handed over the whisk, but Darla was making faces behind Bernard’s back so he had to take up the task. Bernard watched him struggle to move the whisk fast enough while controlling the bowl but after he nearly flipped the entire thing, it seemed like he’d need to rescue him.

Bernard stepped behind Tim, wrapping his arms around the raven-haired boy to help steady both his boyfriend and the bowl. He gently guided Tim's hands to hold the whisk at the right angle, showing him how to make smooth, controlled movements.

"Like this," Bernard murmured near Tim's ear, helping him create a rhythmic motion. "You want to incorporate air into the whites, but not too violently." Their hands moved in sync, watching as the egg whites slowly began to transform from liquid to soft peaks.

Tim leaned back slightly against Bernard's chest, focusing on matching the steady pace Bernard had set. After a few minutes, the egg whites began forming stiff, glossy peaks that held their shape.

"Perfect," Bernard said softly, giving Tim's hands a gentle squeeze. "See? You're a natural. Darla, would you add a pinch of salt?"

"Sure. I guess I have to serve some purpose around here."

Tim's back muscles tensed, signaling he was about to make a snarky comment. Bernard gently tapped his forehead against the back of his boyfriend's head—a warning not to pick a fight that put their creation at risk. Tim settled for flipping Darla off instead, keeping his words to himself.

Folding the whipped cream and chocolate together was Darla’s job. Mainly because Bernard didn’t want to let Tim go, so she would have to carry them now. “You got this, I believe in you.” This was muttered into Tim’s fluffy hair as they rocked back and forth together, but Bernard trusted her to know who that message was for.

Speaking of messages, there was a beep coming from Tim’s short collar that meant one of the Bats needed attention. They’d all had to remove their watches (and the bat-tech Tim had implanted in them) but he’d kept the mini receiver just in case. Bernard released his boyfriend to run out into the hall for a “personal call” while Bernard continued to not help Darla.

“You think it’s Robin on the other side? I think Tim mentioned Oracle is ‘down for maintenance’ so he had to be the call center.” Though Tim had moved on to a new name and mostly patrolled their neighborhood, he and the Bats still helped each other out. Bernard had even seen the Girl Wonder swinging through the streets when that gang war had popped off last year. She’d helped Batman save Gotham, though it was Batgirl and Nightwing who’d helped Tim save their school from those gunmen.

“Don't worry about that, Bear,” Darla said, using her magic to pull him into her side. It was as much of a comforting hug as she could offer while scooping chocolate-cream mix into the rest of the whipped cream. “Robin is way too good for Tim Drake.”

“Then what does that make me?”

“His perfect match.”

“Damn right.”

Bernard ladled the souffle mix into their cups, Darla cleaned up the edges, and Tim took over to the kitchen ovens where they would bake with the rest of the class. This left them 15 minutes to clean up their station and NOT look like total delinquents.

Which of course was when it all went wrong and this time, Bernard was at fault.

Bernard had been tasked with wiping down their station while Tim and Darla handled the dishes. Everything was going smoothly until Bernard had noticed a particularly stuck-on glob of chocolate. He poured on the elbow grease and took a step to the side, right where Darla had accidentally spilled dish soap. With a shriek, Bernard slipped backwards and crashed into the dish rack. Tim was fast enough to catch the dishes before they smashed on the floor, but Darla was knocked into the leftover flour and egg containers. Bernard made a desperate grab for the eggs but only succeeded in batting the basket sideways—launching them into another group’s perfectly clean cooking area. The flour went right into the sink where they’d left the water running.

It was like a nuke had gone off, a cloud of wet flour exploded out to coat all three teens and most of the surrounding area in a sticky paste. The instructor's shriek could probably be heard from the parking lot. "Mon Dieu! What have you done to my kitchen?!"

Bernard turned to his flour-covered friends with an apologetic grin. "Um... oops?"

Tim set aside the dishes in his hands, the only thing left unscathed, trying and failing to look stern. "This is why we can't have nice things."

"At least it wasn't me this time," Darla said cheerfully, looking like a ghost with her flour-whitened hair and stretched out on the floor where she’d landed.

Bernard wasn’t that surprised that their day trip ended with being kicked out of the lessons, only enough time to return their aprons, and left to sit on the front steps of the community center until Darla’s limo came to pick them up. “Well, that could have gone better.”

"Sorry," Tim and Darla said at the same time. They were self-aware enough to take credit for helping push the instructor to their breaking point.

"Nah, it's okay. The chaos is what I like most about spending time with you two." He leaned over to kiss Darla on the cheek. "Thanks for setting this all up, Dall."

"Hey," Tim grumbled, pulling on his sleeve.

Bernard laughed, turning to face his boyfriend. "And thank you too, boy wonder. I wouldn't have had such a great year without you in my life." The kiss he gave to Tim was on the lips, naturally.

"You're welcome, Bear." Tim smiled, with a touch of mischief. "Though, we aren't done yet."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet of white candles. "I snatched this from the pantry on the way out. Darla?"

She grinned, eyes glowing as she waved one hand over her outstretched palm. Red smoke circled until a familiar white dish appeared from thin air.

"You stole one of our dishes?" Bernard grinned. It sure did pay to be best friends with a witch in training, even if her magic was a little bit evil.

"Make a wish!" Darla demanded, setting the soufflé into Bernard's hands while Tim put in a candle. Darla snapped her fingers to light the wick.

Bernard looked between his best friends in the world and really couldn't think of anything else he would want.

So he blew out the candle and made a simple wish: to be with them again like this, next year.

[apocryphics]

INTERVIEWER

Clearly there's a deep connection between your understanding of the Holocaust and your theory of interpretation. Could you talk a bit about that?

STEINER

The key issue here is the sense of what cannot be analyzed or explained. A major act of interpretation gets nearer and nearer to the heart of the work, and it never comes too near. The exciting distance of a great interpretation is the failure, the distance, where it is helpless. But its helplessness is dynamic, is itself suggestive, eloquent and articulate. The best acts of reading are acts of incompletion, acts of fragmentary insight, of that which refuses paraphrase, metaphrase; which finally say, “The most interesting in all this I haven't been able to touch on.” But which makes that inability not a humiliating defeat or a piece of mysticism but a kind of joyous invitation to reread.

Now, I'm still staying in the aesthetic, but I'll come on to your question about the connection with the Holocaust, and I hope it will be clearer then. There was once a little boy, Paul Klee, and he used to be marched out of Bern, where he was brought up, on school picnics, the most boring of possible Swiss occasions. One day his class was brought in front of a Roman aqueduct, and the teacher was explaining how much water it carried, how it was built. Klee was eleven years old, and he always had his sketch pad with him. He sketched the aqueduct and put shoes on the pillars. All aqueducts have walked since that day; you can't see an aqueduct that isn't walking. Picasso is going down a street. He sees a child's tricycle. A billion people have seen children's tricycles on the streets. Picasso flips it with his hand, making the saddle the face of the bull and the handlebars the two horns. No one else had ever done that, and since then all tricycles charge at you with their horns. No one has ever explained this, nor has anyone explained what Lévi-Strauss calls the supreme mystery of all human knowledge: “the invention of melody.” This is one of the sentences most important to me. I delight in the sense of the inadequacy of one's passionate attempts to get nearer. This is the wonder of it. Mountaineers tell you of the postcoital sadness when they're at the top of a previously unclimbed peak, but we never get to the top of the ontology of the aesthetic or the question of the meaning of meaning or the question of the origin of language.

Ours is one of the blackest centuries in terms of death, in terms of torture, massacre. I read with genuine respect the economists who tell us that communism or fascism can be analyzed by a good theory of economics or industrialism; or the sociologists who speak of class conflicts, the sociological structure of the city at that time, and so on. The historians all have ideas too. Like all of us I try to keep up with the people who say, “I can explain it to you.” It doesn't work for me. There may be exciting partial insights, for example, in the notion that there are in the death camps aspects of a factory. Fine, that's a brilliant insight. I want to think about it. Maybe it's very illuminating. Or when I'm told that Nazism as distinct from Stalinism is based on lower-middle-class instabilities and resentments, I'm very interested. But these explanations, important as they may be, do not help me grapple with the facts.

The facts are that when Hitler's high command said to him, “Führer, we desperately need the trains for fuel, for armaments; just give us four weeks of not shipping people to the death camps,” he replied that far more important than winning the war was the destruction of all Jews. The notion that he is mad doesn't work for me at all. He was very unmad. Nor does it help me when I know that Stalin destroys a large part of his educated population systematically while planning the greatness of the Soviet Union.

So I work with explanations of a completely different kind. In the Enlightenment, in the early 1760s, Voltaire, after defending a number of people successfully, issues the statement, “One thing is certain: there will not be the use of torture again in civilized Europe.” A few years later, Thomas Jefferson, one of the shrewdest, toughest minds ever, says that he can promise — he actually uses the word promise — that there will never be any return to the burning of books. I have an anthology of statements like that. Not by naive fools, but by some of the toughest, most ironic minds. There is a Catholic proto-fascist thinker called de Maistre, who sits at the edge laughing his head off and writes a sheer masterpiece called The Evenings of St. Petersburg. He says that as it happens, the twentieth century will be drowned in blood in Europe; that there will be camps for the systematic slaughter of human beings. He works with a quite different theory, that of original sin.

de Maistre says, in effect, “Please explain to me the nature of history.” If we are rational Homo sapiens on the road upward, what are we doing to each other? Why are our wars getting more murderous? Why are famines getting bigger? If, on the other hand, there were some mode of an original dis-grace — very powerful word when you put in the hyphen; disgrace has become such a small word: dis-grace, fall from grace, interruption of some kind of relationship to God — then history is a punishment, and we have stumbled into history essentially to suffer and we will continue so till the end, until we either massacre ourselves with a thermonuclear bomb, or our cities implode, as they now may, or there is famine, or finally there is an AIDS which cannot be checked. The whole doctrine of original sin. How do you operate with such a doctrine? I don't know. I call it a working metaphor.

[stn-tmblr]

Listen. I agree democracy is fair and blah blah blah but I HAVE BERN APART OF THE DEMONIC SCHOLAR SOCIETY FOR THE LAST 424 YEARS. WHY DO I NEED TO WRITE A THIRTY-PAGE PAPER AND GET FOUR TEACHERS TO VET MY GRADES EVERY YEAR. I AM A LORD OF HELL. DIAVOLO YOU'RE KIDDING ME.

but anyway that's why I've been slow to reply. Applications are due soon so after I turn those in I'll be more active.

[voidcenturyseashanties]

@lovehungered asked: ❛ you look good like this. ❜ ⇶ Ace && Sanji (modern verse)

As much as he detested ( or claimed to ) the sweater pulled over his head, Ace was grateful that the incessant chattering of his teeth stopped. To contain violent shivers, he was practically vibrating while he stood before the blonde. Even his words seemed to waver as he did his best not to succumb to the shakes. Clearly, he did not dress nor pack appropriately for their holiday. That must have been why people gave him such strange looks at Bern airport. Evidently, Ace realized the second he stepped out of the terminal that he had grossly overestimated his tolerance for the cold. After settling in their chalet, the sweater was a welcomed surprise . . . even if he ( often ) voiced his displeasure with it. "I look ridiculous," he replied flatly, "but thanks for this. How did you know to bring a sweater for me?" At the very least, this knitted eyesore was in a flattering color. Alright, alright . . . maybe it was not so bad. "Now can we PLEASE make some hot cocoa with some of that famous Swiss chocolate?"

[randomnameless]

It's funny in hindsight to realise Cat was completely overlooked because she BaD bcs she lufs the Evil Lizard Lady and berns a city when ordered too bcs she religious extremist or whatnot -

When you look at her supports in Houses she's a complex character who, when faced between two difficult choices, picked one and wants to make sure it was the right choice so she follows the evil lizard lady to the depths of Tru Piss and brings more of this so beloved "realism" to the table - which leads the token dumb idiot obsessed with "justice" to think about what and who he is using his fists for* (something he ignores on in Nopes and Tru Piss) - despite her presentation of being, well, a token brash idiot too.

But comes Nopes, and while the game leans even more on the "brash idiot" angle, we get this :

When I was a kid, I never imagined I'd be wielding some holy relic as a Knight of Seiros. I thought my destiny was to follow in my father's footsteps and become the next Count Charon.

Faerghus is very sexist and the land of toxic masculinity, Cat expected to become the next Count Charon, aka, the leader of one of the Kingdom's most important Houses.

Meanwhile, the very same game tells us that the Southern Church Rebellion started because a Lady Varley wanted to become Minister rather than a potted plant for her crestless husband. Huh.

*Funny how the entire schtick "but X kills children!" is adressed in the Capsar/Catherine support - and it all comes down to circumstances, Cat praises Caspar for having ideals, but when it comes to a situation where Caspar will have to chose between a life or a death ? Caspar's reply is to basically continue fighting for what he thinks is "just" or what feels "right" to him -

And given how you can unlock this support in SS (where both units are here by default!) this support gets a conclusion when we have to fight crazed!Rhea : both Cat and Caspar feel like dirt, and yet pull through, Cat even rationalising this crap battle as "ending Rhea's suffering".

[godlizzza]

I was torn between Coffinshipping and Danbert but I'm gonna choose Danbert because it convenient for you "Imagine Me & You" fic~

Can i request a possessive fic of Danbert? And Herbert is the one who being possessive here.

Thank you so much and plz write whenever you can or have time, I am super appreciated! 🥰

Herbert was gone all of two minutes.

He left Dan with their bags while he went inside in search of someone who could tell them what to do now that their bus had been delayed. His German was rusty but he had a hell of a lot easier time than Dan loudly repeating himself in English, using more rudimentary words with every attempt to get the non-English speaking Swiss workers to understand him. Their travels through Bern were proving to be more working and less holiday.

Herbert paced back to the terminal, their new itinerary scribbled down in his notebook. He glanced up from the page and nearly got run over by a family trailing bulbous suitcases. He barely noticed; he was too busy seething at the sight of a woman chatting animatedly with Dan, smiling up at him and touching his arm. Long blonde hair spilled out from beneath her pageboy hat, which she kept twirling around her finger as she laughed at whatever Dan was saying.

Dan looked slightly bewildered, no doubt having trouble following her broken English. As Herbert stomped closer, he could make out the tail end of her sentence.

"-so cool. I love America." She accentuated love with a squeeze to Dan's bicep, and Herbert nearly chewed right through his tongue.

"Oh, yeah, it's great," Dan replied, scratching at the back of his neck but still keeping his smile in place. "This is my first time outside of America."

Gretel or Heidi or whatever the fuck her name was, grinned at Dan. "You come with me? I can show der Schweiz you-"

"Why are you bothering him?" Herbert barked at her in German, finally slipping up to Dan's side and into her field of vision. "Go find some other tourist to proposition."

She blinked in surprise at his sudden appearance, then frowned as she swept her gaze over him. Doubtless, she was trying to piece his non-European appearance with his crisp German.

"And who are you?" she asked rudely, quirking an eyebrow at him.

Herbert bared his teeth in a feral grin and hugged Dan's arm, tugging him close to his side. "I'm his client. He's a hooker I'm paying to fuck and follow me around. So, unless you've got a few spare thousand Euros, I'd back off."

All the haughty snark instantly vanished from her face, leaving behind only mortification. She slowly backed away, eyes darting between the two of them, before she murmured an apology, turned tail and ran, quickly disappearing into the crowd. Herbert smiled after her, keeping his grip on Dan's arm, satisfaction filling him like a glass of warm milk.

"What just happened?" Dan asked, head whipping back and forth between Herbert and the shadow of the girl. He narrowed his eyes down at Herbert. "What did you say to her? She was just being friendly."

"I didn't say anything," Herbert replied sweetly, nuzzling his cheek into Dan's shoulder. "I just told her we were very busy."

Dan sighed and rubbed at his eyes. "I hate not being able to understand everything. You could be saying anything. Telling people I'm a drug dealer or something."

"I would never do something like that," Herbert said solemnly before releasing Dan's arm and squatting down to grab his suitcase. He started off in the direction of their terminal and nodded for Dan to follow. "Now, come on. We've got a bus to catch."

"As soon as we get to the apartment, I'm taking a nap," Dan groaned as he paced after Herbert, his roller suitcase sliding along the linoleum floor.

[tracih87]

My Rammstein Encounter (in Bern)

After a long travel to Bern (travelling from the Highlands of Scotland is never easy) I arrived at my hotel entrance feeling extremely hot from the weather but feeling really excited about the Rammstein concert the next day, my husband asked me as we entered, “did you see the young boys standing outside the hotel?” my reply was “what young boys?” in my haste to check in and get rid of our luggage I didn’t notice them, so he went on to tell me there was two young boys waiting outside clutching onto Rammstein records, perhaps the band is staying here! I thought to myself, surely not?!

After checking in and doing all the boring unpacking we decided to head over to the stadium, I’m the kind of person who likes to know where the feuerzone line is and know the route back to the hotel when its dark. Once outside, we spoke to the two young boys and they told us the band were indeed staying in the hotel! I couldn’t believe what I was hearing and seeing the young boys clutching their records with Pauls autograph did make my heart swell, it was a cute sight, they were so happy!

After doing the long walk to the stadium and being really brave and taking the tram back it was time to chill out, get some dinner then sleep ready for the concert!

We left really early in the morning and got our place in the feuerzone line at roughly 8am, there was already nearly 50 people there, the wait was long but, my god it was worth it! 4pm came we scanned our tickets and ran for the rail which we got at Richards side of the stage! It was so hot all day and it felt even hotter once inside the stadium, it took a couple of hours before the staff realised that we would need water but since it had not been pre planned they could only provide small amounts but it goes without saying that show was absolutely amazing and any tiredness/dehydration completely melted away when the music started! I could not even try and begin to explain what I felt during the show but I am quite sure it’s the same as any other Rammstein fan!

We got the tram back to the hotel from the stadium, we couldn’t enter the hotel straight away as Paul and Schneider were getting out of their car and going in, they went straight into a doorway, I am quite sure it was the staff lift which is not for guest use, after a short wait outside we got into the foyer and went straight to the bar to quench a crazy thirst! Sitting comfortably and rehydrating ourselves, we seen Anar Reiband (Tills manager) coming out of one of the lifts then we seen Jens Koch and some other crew retiring for the evening. Suddenly in came Flake with a security guard, I couldn’t believe my eyes! I got off my chair and went over to them both, I was greeted by two smiles, my heart was hammering in my chest, I could not believe I was standing in front of Flake I politely asked if we could have a photo, I looked from Flake to the security guard, Flake said “yes but please no internet”, I promised both Flake and the guard that I would not post it on the internet, the photo was taken and Flake looked lovely and smiley in it! I then proceeded to tell him how amazing I thought he was etc etc!! I kept my promise and did not post it on the internet, it was then time for bed as we had night two in feuerzone! Safe to say I went to bed grinning, I just met Flake and had an amazing time in feuerzone!

Next morning, we decided to take it a little bit more slowly, I have a dodgy heart and blood clotting issues so made sense to take it easy and not go for the rail again. We walked in for breakfast and sat at a table, across from us was Paul and Oliver with two ladies (unsure who they were) then another larger table with crew. There was something very surreal having breakfast with Paul and Oliver on the table close by which is really silly as they are human have to eat too! So I composed myself and set about having my breakfast and chatting to my husband about the show last night and what time we should go to tonight’s show. During breakfast, Flake also came in for his, he sat at the larger table with crew and I noticed Paul had gone over to sit there too (I did notice how at ease Paul is, he is like a social butterfly going round chatting and laughing with everyone, including the hotel staff 😊), we finished our breakfast and left the breakfast room, after sorting out some things in the room, I headed down to go outside for smoke (or vape my case!) I got outside to see Paul and Jens standing straight in front of me, just like with Flake my heart started hammering in my chest, I took a big deep breath and took two steps forward… “Paul” I managed to stammer out, he looks at me and smiles and I manage to ask him for a photo, he grins and says “of course” before I can say anything back to Paul, he asks, “where are you from?” I replied “Scotland” I also joked about my funny accent and Paul replied “oooohh I love your accent” and laughed, by this pointed I am shaking so badly but grinning like the cat who got the cream!! I had my phone in my hand and I’m not sure if Jens could see me shaking but he took my phone off me to take the photo, so not only did I get to meet Paul, Jen Koch took the photo!! My brain has gone to mush, there is so much I would of liked to say to Paul but I only managed to thank him so much before it was time for him to go into his car, I also spoke to Jens for a small while but I won’t go into detail about that as it was more a personal conversation about shyness, he is a very sweet man! Jens left, I walked a few steps away leaning on a wall trying to process what just happened, my husband came out the door and could see my beaming face, I had tears in my eyes, I was just so overwhelmed with happiness! (nothing was said about posting the photos on the internet but I decided not to post the photo online, even though the cat was out of the bag so speak and word had gotten out where the guys were staying, it just didn’t feel right to do so).

Back inside the hotel, still grinning, myself and my husband ordered some Coco-cola (full sugar which is unheard for me but hell I needed the sugar!) After a while we thought we better head to the stadium, he had forgotten his sunglasses so left to go to the room, I sat there for a few moments reliving my moment with Paul and Jens when Oliver appeared, he had come from the lift behind me, I stood up and said “Hello Oliver”, he looked at me and I proceeded to ramble to him how amazing he is (oops, trust me to ramble) then asked if it was okay to take a photo, he nodded yes and we took our photo, I thanked him for his time, a small nod again and he walked out the reception/bar area door! Sitting back down my inner fan girl was screaming and doing cartwheels! Never in a million years did I think I would meet a member of my beloved Rammstein and now I had met 3 of them!

My husband arrived back and after composing myself once again we decided to head to the stadium for our second night in the feuerzone! Again it was another spectacular night, it was slightly different to the first night as some of the fans around us started to argue and fall out but I was quick to zone them out and absorb myself into the show! Then back to the hotel bar for our usual refreshments before bed, we seen Flake and Anar in the bar area, then Jens arrived which I gave a small wave to him, he smiled back which was nice 😊

Next morning, we headed for breakfast in the hotel, we had the whole day in Bern to ourselves to thought it was best to fuel up ready to explore our beautiful surroundings! We walk in and see Oliver sat at a table with the same two ladies as before and the table next to them had crew and the nice Rammstein security guard that we quite often seen during our time in the hotel, there was also other Rammstein fans having their breakfast, this time it didn’t seem so surreal and we set about selecting our breakfast items. Jens came in and ate during our time and while he was leaving I looked up and our eyes locked, we both smiled and said “good morning” to each other, my husband laughed at me playfully as the huge grin was back on my face! We got up to settle our breakfast tab, as my husband was doing so, I turned round to look out the window when I seen Flake, Paul AND Schneider sitting at the window table, Schneider looked over at me and smiled, it was such a warm smile that reached his eyes and of course I grinned back and gave a small wave, Paul was sitting across from Schneider so had his back turned to me but he turned around and also smiled, by this point our breakfast tab was sorted and I skipped out the breakfast room!

A small time later, I was downstairs waiting for my husband returning from our room so we could start our exploring, Schneider and came into the bar area/reception shortly followed by Flake, I thought to myself, this is once in a lifetime opportunity so I approached him again heart hammering in my chest, he smiled so warmly as I asked for a photo to which he replied “yes of course, Flake come over for photo” Flake laughed and told Schneider he had a photo with me but he still came over and gave a beautiful smile along with Schneider. So the selfie with Schneider and Flake was taken, I felt elated and so overcome with more happiness, Schneider carried on smiling as I once again rambled how much I loved him and thought he was so amazing! Then he left with Flake into the lift. By this point it obvious the guys were leaving so we decided to hang around and watch them leave, Paul, Oliver, Flake, Schneider left, I seen Richard leave also but he wasn’t stopping for autographs or photos, we decided to go outside for a smoke as there were other fans outside too, Joe Letz was heading out the door at the same time, my husband was in front of him and I was right behind him, I felt so small compared to him, he is a very tall man!

Once outside there was about 15 Rammstein fans waiting along with a few police officers plus a couple of security guards. The fans were all clutching records and pens waiting for Till, so I thought I would join them in the hopes maybe I could get Tills autograph, we waiting for 10 or so minutes and we seen Anar coming out and going into the waiting car, then perhaps another 5 or so minutes Till came out but he didn’t stop for any autographs, he kept his head down and walked to the car but all the fans were super respectful and kept their distance, no rushing towards him just a few calling his name.

After that we enjoyed the rest of our time in Bern, I posted my photos online but I did keep one back special just for me, of course with social media you have to take the good and bad comments but I shall focus on the good comments and not let the bad drag me down.

I can honestly say it was a trip of a lifetime and I have been gifted memoires that will last me a lifetime

Thank you to my wonderful husband

Thank you Rammstein

Thank you universe

[naturallyteal]

A dream fanfic by NaturallyTeal ~ 17th Day

Summary: The Secret Dream Diary of a Good Omens fan (anonymous, he) who contracted a severe case of the fandom-typical brain rot from watching S1 & S2 too often, reading too much fanfic on AO3, and spending altogether too much time engaging on tumblr, digesting gifs, fanart and meta.

He dreams about Good Omens every night.

Short dreams, daily.

~~~

17th Day: Devine Ecstasy

I dreamed I was in Rome, 1652. I was very tired from all the sightseeing. It was a hot and thirsty day. Gian Lorenzo from Bern approached me, and said in Italian, which I miraculously understood and spoke, that he had a room for me in his ostello, where I could rest. I followed him. He called me Teresa, and I was too tired to correct him. I fell asleep and dreamt. In the dream in the dream, Aziraphale drilled through me with his flaming sword.

He grinned infernally, meanwhile.

[previous day] [next day]

I’m planning to post one _short_ dream daily, for 20 days. If you like, subscribe on AO3!

There’s also a “mailing list” (tagging in the replies) here on tumblr, let me know if you want on it! 😇😎

Credit:

I mixed two sculptures: The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa and Laocoon

Also, a shout out to 3D websites I used: Aziraphale’s flaming sword and Laocoon

Bonus question: did you see Laocoon in Good Omens? Where, which scene(s)❓😇

[beardedmrbean]

She shared this news with the media in Bern. There had been rumours about her resignation for some time.

The 62-year-old Centre Party politician from canton Valais has been part of the Swiss government since 2019, taking over from Doris Leuthard.

The announcement overshadowed the main topic of the press conference: the reorganisation of compulsory service in the army and civil protection.

‘The time has come to say goodbye’

In recent months, there had been repeated speculation in the media and political circles that Amherd might step down after her year as Swiss President. Amherd justified her decision by saying that after many years in politics and the executive, “it’s time to step back”.

She thanked her ministry, the entire Federal Council, Switzerland’s executive body, and the parliament. “I don’t claim that everything has gone perfectly,” she said. However, “significant milestones have been achieved”.

Concerning ‘growing polarisation’ in Switzerland

She also stated that she views the “growing polarisation and the increased enforcement of particular interests with concern,” and explained that deciding the timing of the resignation is the only decision that a member of the Federal Council can make on their own.

Regarding criticism of army procurement projects, which have led to additional costs and delays, Amherd said, “I have always demanded a transparent and honest approach: if there are problems, they should be reported.”

When asked about the proposal to upgrade the army by 2030 instead of 2035 she replied that “it was an important proposal to increase the finances for the army. That was not a given, but it happened. Whether it goes faster or slower is always a matter of assessment. I have always openly and honestly represented the decisions of the Federal Council.”

Who will be the next defence minister in Switzerland?

According to Amherd, her successor should be decided during the spring session. “Whether it’s a week or ten, it doesn’t change much,” said the minister about the short timeframe. “And I am a person who decides quickly and then implements it.”

In Swiss politics, new appointments to the Federal Council are a well-practised routine. Those interested in succeeding her now have enough time to position themselves. The spring session of the Federal Council begins on March 3.

Swiss political parties react to Amherd’s resignation

Centre Party: Amherd’s party has expressed regret over her decision to resign, thanking her for her tireless efforts and strong commitment to shaping policy. They highlighted her approachable manner and openness. “As defence minister, Amherd was quick to recognise the need to modernise and upgrade the army to address Europe’s changing security needs and strengthen Switzerland’s defence capabilities,” the party said.

Radical-Liberal Party: The Radical-Liberals call for a clear plan from Amherd’s successor to lead the defence ministry. In light of the current geopolitical situation, the party emphasised that rearming the Swiss Army is the top priority. The party’s president Thierry Burkart thanked Amherd for her service to Switzerland. “The Centre Party’s seat in the Federal Council will not be contested.”

Swiss People’s Party: Thomas Aeschi from Swiss People’s Party says there’s a need for action in national defence following Amherd’s resignation. He stated that her successor must revitalise the army. “Switzerland must return to its perpetual armed and comprehensive neutrality,” Aeschi told the Keystone-SDA news agency.

Liberal Green Party: The Liberal Greens praised Amherd following her resignation announcement. “She has achieved a lot,” the party wrote on Wednesday on X. They highlighted the procurement of the F-35 fighter jets and the strengthening of cybersecurity as key accomplishments. “The Liberal Green Party wishes her all the best for the future,” they added.

Green Party: The Greens are surprised by Viola Amherd’s resignation, just three days after sharp criticism from the Swiss People’s Party. “The party regrets her resignation, even though they do not share her views on security policy. The People’s Party must now follow through on their statements and take responsibility for the defence ministry,” they added.

Translated from German by DeepL/sp

[ramblingsofthegoldenwitch]

Answers to ask I received in the past (part 2)

As promised I'll try to answer to the ask I received in the past. This is the second group of Ask at which I replied. Please don't send new asks. I won't reply to them.

By the way, these are all Anon asks.

What is the connection between Featherine and Eua?

also

As Featherine under name Eua, which have a form that similiar to Auau aka Hanyuu. Isn't make sense that Featherine is Hanyuu? What do you think?

Sorry, I placed your asks together because they're similar.

You both are talking about the Featherine from “Higurashi Gou” and “Higurashi Sotsu”? Honestly even though I saw the two anime I didn’t look if those Higurashi are ‘official’ as in Ryukishi07 recognized them as part of their canon and I’ve no interest in speculating about it. She might as well be an alternate version of Featherine or Featherine herself when she was younger or whatever you can theorize about. If there was an official answer I didn’t see it.

In “Higurashi Sotsu” Featherine acknowledge Hanyuu as a part of herself. If this is meant to be true in Umineko too or not is something I don't know and that honestly I'm not invested in discovering. Sorry about it.

Why did Ange Ushiromiya Laughed maniacally after learning the thrush about her Aunt?

Laughing is a coping mechanism and when you're overwhelmed or feeling anxiety about something, laughing helps you shed some of that stress and anxiety even if it’s inappropriate. It’s not voluntary, it’s similar to why some people cry when they’re overwhelmingly happy.

It doesn’t mean Ange is evil, just that she’s desperate and on the border of snapping. The manga depicts her as also crying and implies she tosses herself off the building in desperation.

Also tales like inappropriate reactions like this one for the sake of the drama so you might find various tales who use inappropriate laughter as a character response to bad news.

Hey, what is your least favorite character in umineko, mine is kinzo

They’re all well written to me, but I guess you mean which character I think is worse morally and I wouldn’t have him get close to me in real life?

There’s so many to choose since Umineko has plenty of what we could call unrepentant criminals. I probably would feel much safer if none of the adults in Umineko were to get in my own city. They’re all horrible. Traumatized but horrible.

Do you think that Ikuko Hachijo developed romantic feelings for Tohya Hachijo (Battler) throughout spending her time with him?

I would say yes, if it wasn’t for the fact that I’m a strong Battler/Sayo shipper and so I prefer to think they just like each other as friends. Likely though the idea is that they love each other, if they do in a platonic way or if they merely didn’t marry because Touya has no real identity to speak of is up to speculation.

This may be an odd question, but it's there any panels in the Umineko manga of Ange showing the buttons on the shirt she wears under her jacket?

I have no idea but you can find the manga on manga scanlation sites and check it yourself if you’re really that curious. The manga is good and worth reading so I recommend giving it a look.

Is Bernkastel an actual complex character? Or just a one dimensional monster? Also would you call her edgy?/Is Bern an actual complex character? Or is she just a sadistic heartless monster created by Rika's pain? I was hoping she could have been like a grey character, rather than pitch black, but i guess i had wrong assumptions on her

I put those two asks together because they seem the same. Bernkastel likes to play the part of one dimensional monster but she’s a complex character and I’ve plenty of post discussing her if you’re interested. Also consider that the meta world has different ethic values compared to the real world so things are a lot more complex than what they look like on the surface.

Is there ever a reason given in the series for why Yasu was raised female even though they were AMAB? It's not like the older servants just guessed their gender, they all knew Kinzo had a secret son. I know they lowered Yasu's age to hide their identity but I don't know why changing their gender would help, especially since it's such a huge problem for them later

No, there’s not a reason given in the series. I’ve been told though that in Japan this was a thing that was done in the past to kids with ruined genitalia. Take it with a grain of salt though as I don’t really know exactly how this worked.

Hey, I just saw your post about other selfs in Umineko and I gotta say, it has helped me a lot lol, im not the same person who asked you, hell i dont even know english that well but as someone who has gone through many identity crisis due to my gender and other stuff and the only way to cope is creating this self on the internet to feel accepted is, yeah i can see i was just like Sayo and I was just running from reality, hell ive been running ever since my best friend left me, so, yeah thanks (?

I’m really happy if my post was of some help! Thank you for letting me know!

Has anyone asked about Kinzo’s test in episode 4? We know Maria solved it somehow, but then what is the solution? What could she have said to earn such favor?

We know the solution Kinzo chose when he met Beatrice was to kill everyone else to obtain his own life and the one of Beatrice (his loved one). We can see it implied in Episode 4 Volume 4 Chapter 16 of the manga and we see it being shown in Episode 7. Maria likely chose the same, to kill everyone else to save the person she loved. If said person was Rosa or Sakutarou (in episode 4 Maria had a bad break up with Rosa) that’s up to speculation.

Can you recommend more visual novels like Umineko?

Sorry, I’ve only read Umineko and Rose Guns Days so I’m not the right person to ask about this but people say Higurashi is good too.