#dark lord saltine

[chikkou]

sometimes i think about the lesbian i went to a history class with in my junior year of college...

she had thick rimmed glasses and a low ponytail. she was quick and witty, so much smarter than me, and i admired her. she would come to my job (the campus subway) and call me the "golden girl" - i always thought of HER as the golden girl because she was so intelligent, so well-spoken, and i genuinely looked up to her. she was smart as a whip, but every time we had the same conclusion in class, she always deferred to me - let me have the spotlight. i assumed this was pity for a younger student. i realize now that "golden girl" was a pet name.

she gave me, and only me, free jello shots that she made for parties, because she trusted me. no matter how many i asked for, she gave them. at most i paid $5 for 30+ jello shots. and i am literally just realizing as im writing this that she wanted me as bad as i wanted her and i was too shy to understand what was happening.

[the-moon-in-the-gutter]

Thinking about some of the ghouls having altars in their rooms. The spaces treated with care and reverence, an extension of their worship and their piety. All objects are placed on their altars with purpose and intent, a gift to their Dark Lord.

However, some ghouls have a tendency to forget that it's not just another table in their room. Dewdrop being the most common to place things on his altar by mistake, before realizing. There's a vase of now dried roses that Aether had brought him, accidentally becoming an offering to Lord Lucifer. The ghoul was commonly only scatter-brained when in a rush.

One afternoon Dewdrop had brought a cup of tea he had made with him, intending to place it on his dresser before rushing back to the kitchen to gather a few other things. Aether had been laid in his bed, stricken with a second migraine in a two week span. When Dew returned to his room, a collection of pain medication, saltine crackers, and a specialty tea was placed on the bedside table. It was in that moment when he went for a sip of his tea that he had realized where he placed his mug, grumbling curses under his breath as to not disturb his mate that was laying with his eyes covered in a cold rag.

After that day, his mug became a permanent fixture of his altar. When rising from his bed to go make a cup of tea to accompany his reading, he will pause by his altar. "I'm about to make some tea, you want some too?" Dewdrop asks casually, as if speaking to a friend. The ghoul stood, waiting for a glimmer of confirmation in his mind before gathering the mug to bring an offering back. All before being scolded by Aether for his intense casual demeanor with Lord Lucifer, "You cannot speak to Lord Lucifer like he's a pal, what in the hell is wrong with you?"

Dewdrop would just shrug, his mind on portioning tea into diffusers before turning to his mate. "What's the worst that can happen? I go to Hell, again?" he would ask incredulously, knowing there was a point to be made on both sides.

[biowaredisasterbisexual]

WIP Wednesday Saturday

I was kindly tagged by @galluslonging and then promptly began a life of living off of saltines, sprite, and gatorade. So this is, uh, very delayed.

I won’t tag anyone directly, because I have no idea who has been tagged already, BUT IF YOU WANT IN, GO FOR IT! And tag me so I can come read it.

Double Trouble: one bit from the Modern AU (tm), another from the Jealous Neve Prompt. Both not really edited, and neither beta’d.

Apparently her morning wake-up call was being provided by none other than Templar Rana Savas.

Neve sighed and unlocked the door.

“Templar Rana,” she greeted, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Neve, I know you went to the fundraising gala,” Rana said.

Neve smirked. Just a little. She saw Rana’s lips tighten in slight annoyance and savored the moment; the other woman could consider it payback for waking her up.

How had Rook managed to slip out without doing so? That would be a question for later, assuming she saw him again.

“A contact knew a guy offering them on discount,” Neve said, shrugging.

“And?”

“And I’m curious where you got my address, Rana. I don’t remember giving it to you.” Neve crossed her arms over her chest, and leaned against her doorframe. She wouldn’t be inviting Rana inside.

The Templar rolled her eyes. “It’s right next to your office, Neve. That’s not even a hunch, it’s just common sense.”

The soft squeak of old brakes interrupted them, and Neve looked past Rana’s shoulder to see Rook’s old truck parking in her driveway.

Rana blinked. “He looks familiar.”

“He’s the maintenance guy. You saw him the day before yesterday,” Neve explained. He had clearly gone home — or to some third location, she supposed — as gone were the military pants and dark colors, and instead he wore old, paint-spattered jeans, a t-shirt, and the red hoodie from when they’d met.

He also was carrying a couple of bags that looked like they were from a bakery and some coffee cups. Neve raised an eyebrow at him curiously as he climbed up the stairs to her porch.

For his part, Rook was glancing between her and Rana, by all appearances idly curious. “Hey Neve, and uh, Templar….?”

“Rana Savas,” Neve answered.

“Got it. Nice to meet you Templar Rana Savas. I’m Rook,” he gave Rana what Neve assumed was supposed to be a winning smile.

And, to be fair, it was charming one.

“Rook,” Rana repeated. “The maintenance worker from the other day?”

“Got it in one! I owed Neve a favor, and since I was in the neighborhood,” he held out one of the cups of coffee — Antivan cold brew, splash of sweet cream was written on the side — and the brown paper bag.

Neve couldn’t help her fond exasperation at the gesture; with everything going on he’d taken the time to get her coffee and a pastry?

Rana was looking between the two of them with confusion.

“What favor?” She asked.

“Oh, I got into a fight with a raccoon the other day — long story — while I was working in Dock Town,” Rook said easily. His eyes glinted with humor and his smile held a hint of mischief.

“Neve was nice enough to let me wash out my clothes before I took the streetcar home. And she gave me a cup of coffee too! Which is why I bought some for her today.” He shook his head sadly. “No one should boil coffee unless they’re desperate.”

Even Rana couldn’t quite maintain her usual seriousness at that, and she snorted while Neve narrowed her eyes on him.

“I don’t remember you complaining at the time,” she pointed out.

“Of course not. I was raised with manners.” Rook winked and Neve rolled her eyes.

——————————

“Trouble, I’ve seen you trip on air,” she teased, and he shrugged.

“Could be considered a talent,” he offered in his defense. He sipped his rum, and Neve watched as his tongue swiped across his lower lip.

She wasn’t, she realized glancing up, the only one doing so.

“Oh, I think you’re very talented,” the lord said, giving Rook a coquettish smile. “I’m Cade. Mind if I join you?”

Cade gestured towards a chair, directly across the table from them, that had been left empty by someone going to the bar with whatever money Rook hadn’t managed to take yet.

“Sure.” Rook smiled at him amiably before turning to face Neve again. “Have you tried this rum? Isabela recommended it; it’s good!”

“Not yet. Why, are you offering?” She asked.

He nodded rapidly and then froze in place and blinked. “Whoa. Too fast. But yeah, of course.”

He held his glass out to Neve, who accepted it and took a sip. It had depth, dark with a strong molasses flavor and an edge of salt, and went down far too easily. She smirked as Rook bit his lower lip when she swallowed.

“It’s good,” she said, handing it back and noting the light flush to his face and slightly unfocused eyes. “But be careful, Trouble. I’m not sleeping on the beach to keep you company if you can’t walk.

He smirked. “Sure.” Smug bastard knew her threat had no teeth.

Neve hated how attractive it was that he knew it.

“You wouldn’t have to sleep on the beach, you could always stay with me,” Cade offered, eyes on Rook.

Rook chuckled. “I appreciate it, but Neve’s probably right. She usually is.”

Always so trusting, following her lead when she asserted it typically without question. It warmed her from the inside even more effectively than the alcohol.

“Well, if you change your mind.” Cade smiled and stretched out, hand nearly touching Rook’s free one. Neve arched an eyebrow as she sipped her wine. He was bold, she supposed she’d give Cade that.

She didn’t know that she’d have any other compliments to give him, though, if he kept looking at Rook that way.

[lillyhasaspoon]

♥ June 15- Westminster Abbey & Parliament; The King’s Birthday!

Happy Birthday King Charles III! 🎉 What a more perfect way to celebrate than visiting the famous Westminster Abbey and Parliament.

After a quick breakfast, we made our way to Westminster for a walking tour of the area. We walked our way through the Westminster Abbey High School. I was surprised to see students in uniforms on a Saturday, especially when the area was so busy with tourists. Our tour guide was an older gentlemen and he led us through the school and past brick homes until we stood in front of Westminster Abbey, the church of the royals.

We actually walked in on a wedding, funny enough. The place was teeming with tourists but there was a giant family celebrating a wedding, which I learned are most likely MP’s or lords (or their family.) Thought that was so neat.The entire area surrounding the church, aside from the bits under construction, was made up of these beautifully designed “neo-gothic” buildings with statues and flags everywhere. The inside was even more breathtaking. The area was full of memorial sites lined with dark velvets and gold, and lit by the various stained glass windows. I was enamored by those stained glass windows, the intricacy of their designs genuinely mind-blowing. It was a church, a gravesite, and a memoriam in one.

After exploring the church, we had lunch. The little group I was with ate at a cafe that serves panini’s and soups, it was delicious.

Then was Parliament. One thing I enjoy about the architecture of the area was the storytelling of the statues littered around. There is a lot of attention to detail put into their poses, where they are, and even who they face. For example the statue of Charles I (who was the first and only monarch to be executed. Or beheaded, rather.) faced by Oliver Cromwell, who was heavily against him and ultimately killed him. The two enemies were forced to face each other for eternity, Cromwell posed with a sword and a bible, and Charles as nothing but a head.

Inside parliament we were given audio guides to carry with us as we explored the lobby area, House of Commons, and the House of Lords. In the lobby area, there was this incredible mosaic that expanded from roses and golden patterns to figures like Saint George. That tour was self-guided, but the audio commentary painted a wonderful story of the history of Parliament and its use.

After parliament, my little “Nerds and Dorks gone pro” group went and explored the surrounding area. We went to St. James Park, enjoying the garden and chatting with the local wildlife (squirrels and swans). We stopped at a local cafe and shared a lemon raspberry cake and a salmon sandwich among us all before heading back to the hotel.

The rest of the day went: Hotel, lay on bed, hear about our comrades ailments and aid to them (feeling sick so we were sent on a saltines and ginger-ale retrieval mission), and then dinner in the hotel cafe with N.A.D.G.P (coffee and pizza. Yup.).

All and all, a super productive and educational day!

@danielcronrath @grcetylr @ivory000 @livingingloworld @comafloods

[mywifiismanhattansvu]

Episode 4 - Hysteria

Another really really strong episode I remember.

“Quit what, the soccer team?”

“No, School.”

Kathleen after that statement about her pregnant friend:

Vice detective who hates women: check!

More leering at cold corpses

WHAT’s NHI

No Humans Involved

They treat non-SVU detective cops like invalids or someone possessing the Dark Triad and no in between

“Aren’t you guys late for a sensitivity training class”

Hell yeah ladies rock climbing scene

The notification scene

No victim blaming ever ever ever but Tracy had on an insane outfit. Like a GTA 3 skin. Like had to have been purchased from a sex shop

Stabler def shouldn’t have mentioned it then idk idk

Him and Olivia just not doing anything after the slap…yeah same

Olivia shocked that a sex worker could do “charity” work like they aren’t some of the most charitable people you’ll find 🙄

ALL I KNOW IS I’D NEVER LET MY DAUGHTERS GO OUT DRESSED LIKE THAT

Munch: Ah but I digress, back to the dead whore

Maybe Deangelo was actually right and everybody needs sensitivity training

“HEY I respect hookers—“

B plot Stabler now has to explain to Kathleen how babies are made (and she KEEPS running away)

The body in the apartment was gnarly

The He/She turf war

😬😬😬

Munch flashlight demonstration is so good, the police issue glove residue should’ve set off more alarms

ANOTHER LENNIE sighting to investigate Detective NHI

Awww them talking about beating alcoholism

Ridley, the super helpful guy from the diner??? No wayyyyyy

Oh. His mom tricked johns…….

SALTINES IN FRONT OF THE DOOR

So they allowed this guy with obvious trauma and serious issues to become and remain a cop? Even after assaulting working girls and his own wife like Jesus lord

The sports sex analogies

Kathleen: WHATEVER

LMFAO AT HER GAGGING HIM BY TELLING HIM SHE’s A VIRGIN

Stabler so tenderly waking up Olivia

This motherfucker was killing hookers and stringing them up like paper dolls for like 30 years??????????

Lmfao at him making jokes like sir u are getting life

Ugh…when he describes them. Jail isn’t enough

Ahhh I thought I conflated this with another episode but after all of this the actual case they’re investigating was NOT him

The poor, poor parents.

So poor Dennis didn’t get the jungle fever he was hoping for

Not he’s wearing the shoes he killed her in!! Also like…damn bro there wasn’t a better way to make her leave you alone than suffocating and beating her like a serial prostitute killer????

They manage to accomplish a lot of story in just one episode with Ridley and Tracy’s actual case. One of my favorites. Truly shocked me the first time I saw it

4.8/5

[inkveined]

immortally wounded ➳ — (h.g. & a.b.)

PAIRING: haurchefant greystone x gender neutral!wol (ft. aymeric de borel x gender neutral!wol)

GENRE(S): angst, hurt no comfort, drabble

WORD COUNT: 1.0k

CONTENT WARNINGS: heavensward spoilers, major character death, implied suicide

A/N: ...so the vault huh

ao3 mirror

You should’ve died.

With your fists trembling at your sides, you throw your head back, baring your throat to the heavens. The ache in your beating heart does not hold a candle to the ache left behind by the anguished wail that claws its way out of your chest.

It should’ve been you.

The heavens make no indication of hearing you.

If only…

A half sob follows, then–

Anger.

It settles deep, a blooming that reaches the apex of your next sorrowful cry to the skies of Coerthas above. You vaguely wonder if he can hear you from Halone’s halls.

To have your other half torn asunder so suddenly leaves you broken, a lance having pierced you straight through your heart much like his shield.

If only you weren’t in the way.

Saltine tears drop from your glassy eyes into the snow below, his gravestone and shield doing little to comfort you. Resting your forehead against the cold surface of the slab of stone, you can feel your soul yearn for what you’ve lost. From what Aymeric had taken from you.

The anger seethes, burns, forming an unyielding grasp around your quivering frame. It was Aymeric that had indirectly orchestrated the downfall of your beloved, it was Aymeric that tore, tore, tore away at what you thought was the inseparable tie that had bound you once to your beloved.

The bastard laid in bed with you that evening. His apologetic kisses left nothing but disdain in their wake. But you couldn’t deny what Count Fortemps had seen in the young commander. An uncanny resemblance to your dear Haurchefant.

You wonder what cruel trick of fate this was.

Looking past the dark curls and striking dual blue hues, you saw what you had once fallen in love with. And that was precisely what kept you tethered to the sheets, fists twisted in them as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear with remorse in deep blues that reminded you all too much of him. You moan and keen, but naught was for the man above you, this he knew.

But that didn’t stop him from loving you.

And love you he did— he was every bit the picturesque lover, attentive, kind, endearing with a heart of blinding gold. Haurchefant was no different. You figure if you closed your eyes, you could fool yourself into loving a man that you had once came home to.

You knew this would hurt him, but that pain would be nothing compared to the one you felt when a hand you had traced the palm lines of and tenderly squeezed many times before grew cold and lifeless in your own.

—

The sun sets in Ishgard again, and with it, your eyes did for one last time.

It was Aymeric that had found you.

Your hair sprawled on the ground reminded him so much of that of an angel’s halo. Your peaceful countenance was no longer streaked with the tears Aymeric had time and time brushed away with the touch of a sinner seeking repentance.

For the second time that waning moon, he felt despair and ice filled his veins. His mouth parted to call your name, to shout, to do anything other than gawk and tremble like the fingers that cradled your face.

The Lord Commander was not often rendered speechless and shocked to the core. Your name eventually emerges as a questioning whisper from the churning depths of his stupor, and the color drains from his complexion.

No.

This couldn’t be…

But there you were. Silent, motionless. Unresponsive to his screams and shaking.

He checks for any hopeful sign of a pulse before burying his face into the crook of your neck, sobs wracking his body as incessant apologies interspersed with hiccups and tremors tumble out of his lips while his worst fears are confirmed.

Why?

The inquiry directed towards Hydaelyn echoes within his mind but there is no one to respond. His gloved fists crumple into your clothing.

Whywhywhy?

It wasn’t supposed to be this way…

Aymeric couldn’t fathom it, wrap his clever head around it. It’d be a lifetime before he’d glean an answer, he reckons.

He stands, holding your fragile, limp body bridal-style, his expression a tumultuous display of emotion.

A familiar, blonde-haired figure awaits him at the foot of the Pillars, the descent feeling like an eternity without you. When Lucia catches sight of your cold body nestled within warm arms, she stands with eyes wide and mouth agape, realization dawning on her sharp features.

Aymeric’s armored footfalls come to a standstill at the bottom step. He raises his gaze to meet his subordinate’s.

“The Warrior of Light is dead.”

–

There was a unanimous agreement that you should be buried next to your true lover you had loved in your waking moments. Both of you overlooked Coerthas as Aymeric kneels, eyes shut. A fresh bouquet of you and Haurchefant’s favorite flora lies betwixt your tombstones.

There was no well in all of Eorzea that would hold all the grief and guilt the knight harbored for both a fallen comrade and the light of his life.

But alas, he couldn’t very well give into his heartsickness when the Dragonsong War remained at large and Nidhogg’s vengeance and thirst for Ishgardian blood still posed a threat. It was a Temple Knight’s duty to soldier on and carry out the will of the dearly departed that had died for the cause that had once united them.

These wounds of his would never truly heal in full, immortally afflicted as he was, but it is with honor that he continues the fight in both of your names. Aymeric just wished Eorzea’s two brightest lights weren’t snuffed out so soon and that the dolor doesn’t succeed in pulling him under.

“Come, Lucia,” Aymeric calls out. She nods in response, waiting for the commander to lead the way before trailing after him. The trek back was one of silence, rumination, and regret.

Ishgard felt darker and colder in the Warrior of Light and the Silver Fuller’s absence, he thinks to himself.

[chikkou]

bro they fucking took out a tumblr ICON a few days ago. @tsunamiwavesurfing was the auteur who gave us “you hasslehoff, you wavewatching” and “i got that good… that good for nothing,” amongst other legendary posts, and they done deactivated him!! i legit have no idea what they nabbed him for bc the dude never posted anything other than like, art and text posts… but this is a real loss 😭

[chikkou]

i just finished disco elysium last night and u bitches lied to me. those old men did NOT fuck. waste of 30 hours 🙄🙄🙄🙄

[chikkou]

yall i watched the severance finale with my friend the other day and while we largely enjoyed it, we were really thrown by a few parts, specifically the weirdly forced comedy routine between mr. milchick and the animatronic (which was obviously drummond behind a mic) followed by the elaborate dance sequence

we talked about it again the next day and in the course of the conversation i jokingly referred to the performance as a cakewalk but like. after thinking about it a bit. i realized that it actually WAS a cakewalk.

for those who may not know, a cakewalk was historically an exaggerated performance carried out by the enslaved for the entertainment of their masters - there was a comedic element, generally involving the slaves mocking themselves via "silly" depictions of racial stereotypes (though they often silently rebelled by mocking their masters instead), but they also featured song-and-dance performances as well. the term comes from the prize for the best performance, which was generally a sweet treat of some sort (i.e. "cake")

as i rewatched and saw milchick, clearly unhappy but trying to power through it anyway, i really reflected on this concept. he was supposed to make fun of himself. he was supposed to make himself smaller, to know his place. for kier. and he refused to cave. he still did his dance, unhappy and unfeeling, but he refused to make himself any smaller. that really grabbed me.

i was a little disappointed that the subject of lumon's racism didnt come to a head for him as much as i expected it to in the season finale, but its clear he is waking up to the companys malice, and isnt going to be the smiling sycophant anymore.

[chikkou]

im late to the game on severance but im just thinking about the dance sequence in episode 7 (GAGGED me btw) and like. i love how mr. milchick circles them all like a vulture. i have no idea what happens after that point (just about to start ep 8) but it really is a reminder that he is a predator and the employees are his prey

[chikkou]

rewatching death note and i forgot how much i hate ohba’s writing. naomi misora deserved better

[chikkou]

venture brothers is such a great show bc its one of the very few shows where u think “wow [character] is so self-serving and hostile… it must be bc of [reason]” but then u tell urself that thats too generous and the writers were probably just lazy

and then it turns out u were completely right and it just took the writers an additional decade to confirm that ur interpretation was intentional and deliberate LMAO

[chikkou]

bro dating apps are insane i been talking to this one person for all of 1 hour and i know that they recently broke up with their partner of 10 years and are trying to Fuck The Pain Away - Peaches rather than dealing with it LOL

[chikkou]

desperately sad that E3 is dead forever. there was never a better opportunity to mock corporations for their transparent attempts at being Hip and With It

[chikkou]

i went to the pool today with my baby sister (shes 8 and loves me to death) and there was this group of people already there. i have found the people here to be sort of weird to my family unless we make a big show of exhibiting politeness, presumably due to the way we look (a black mom, 2 dark-skinned asian kids, and my baby sister and i who are hard to place). so i try to steer clear and stand between them and my sister.

my sister told me i should get goggles from the lifeguard so i could see underwater with her. i told her i was ok and i didnt need them. one of the girls in the group, who had been looking at us a lot (for what i assumed was the usual reason), swam over and offered her goggles to me, with zero prompting. i tried to politely decline but she insisted until i caved and took them. and i just thought this was such a sweet little moment, one of the only times ive felt genuinely welcomed since we moved here. it was a small thing, but just a reminder that there is good out there - altruistic, wholly selfless good. and thats really all it is

[chikkou]

im rewatching 30 rock and i just got to the episode where they start parodying mitt romney's moron running mate on the show, which humanizes him and makes him more appealing to voters... this was in reference to the 2012 election and its so crazy how just 4 years later, that exact tactic would be used to get donald trump elected. pure insanity