#fucking cockroach man

[incorrectvladimirtodquotes]

Recovery

Vlad: *see's D'Ablo* Vlad: How- why are you here... I thought you died! D'Ablo: ... D'Ablo: I got better

[fyllophobia]

[the-alpha-doodle-dome]

Anotha one, anotha one, anotha one-

[katkalis-the-horror-fanartist]

Djmm protecting a severely injured viewer/anon from a murderous moon

[bear-boi-5]

MAN FUCK COCKROACHES

I HATE COCKROACHES. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. LEAVE ME ALONNEEEE I DON'T WANT TO KILL YOUR ASS AT 12AM WHEN IM TRYING TO PUT STUFF AWAY TO GO TO BEDDDDD

[semantic-vegas]

me (a person with one shit parent) who knows a decent number of people (with at least one shit parent) and has read/heard about the real life experiences of other people (regarding the large number of shit parents existing throughout history and also still today): w h y are all the parents in these shows the worst??

[cirrus-grey]

Hey you know how I made a post a bit ago comparing Bartimaeus and Nathaniel, John and Arthur, and Venom and Eddie?

John and Arthur, you better fucking not.

[wraithsoutlaws]

🍓 Dragula

🍓 Dagger

🍓 Cockroach

🍓: Dragula has vampyre fang implants that are loaded up with a paralytic poison that he can engage with a button behind the furthest molar in his mouth. It doesn't kill, but it works quickly and incapacitates for a couple hours.

🍓: Dagger's first kiss happened when he was 9 years old, totally innocent little peck of a thing with a boy from a neighboring farm. They snuck off to an empty barn to blow off their chores. Dagger didn't really understand his feelings as a crush, but they were, and he knew it was not allowed (insulated, small traditionalist community). The other boy ended up telling his parents and Dagger got punished in kind. He had also stolen a pack of his father's cigarettes that day so it was the first time he tried smoking, and got similarly reprimanded for that too.

🍓: Cockroach fully understands human speech (in several languages in fact), though he obviously can't speak it himself. He's quite the intellect. He also reads!

[bunnybonesstudio]

Johnny Lawrence would survive Squid Games no I will not accept criticism or counter arguments

[maxwell-grant]

Was kinda interesting watching Aquaman 2 do that thing Hollywood movies do where a villain barks orders in an non-English language to signal to the American audience that they're foreign and scary, except this time the actress doing it was speaking portuguese so I actually understood everything she was saying and it was just weird and abrupt. I guess they just told her to translate and say the lines in her own language but didn't direct her how to adapt the dialogue accordingly, so she ends up just telling the henchmen to pick up a guy in a very stilted formal factual manner while everything's exploding around them, that was kinda funny.

[demon-of-the-ancient-world]

The Inner Eye Excerpt #4 (5? idk)

While a lot of this fic follows the 2nd book roughly or is total invention, some of it is straight up missing scene fic and this is one of those. Irulan goes to see Paul after the stone burner ~incident~ .

Tw for descriptions of burns/ facial injuries

Eventually, they let her in.

At the door a sudden heaviness stops her, making her stagger. She’s weary, right then and there, sick to death of all of it. If only he’d died. If only she’d been in his place and died there instead. She’s finished with it all, weary to the blood and bones.

He’s visible from where she stands, lit by the globe by his bed. Audible, too; his breath a wheeze that sounds poisonous.

His head turns, very slightly, in shadow. They said he was conscious, but how could they tell, if it’s as they say?

Don’t fear him now, she thinks as her hands grow clammy. Get a hold of yourself. You’ve seen worse.

It’s not a litany against anything, just plain force.

The rattle of his breath increases as she gets closer, until she comes into the light and can see the whole of what the explosion did to him. Bile rises in her throat unexpectedly and she bites her tongue. I am not easily shocked, she tells herself, and looks full at his face.

The eyes are gone, as she was told, the delicate skin around them melted. It’s the only word she can use to describe the collapsed flesh, blistered and cracking in folds over empty sockets. The worst of the burns extend beyond that, creeping to his forehead on the left side where one eyebrow and part of his hair is singed away. His cheek too is burned, though not as badly. There must be more under the thin sheet; his chest appears to be bare. And what internal damage might be at work even now to cause the horrible sound of his breath, she can’t begin to imagine.

He looks like something sunken in and trampled, left to dry out and die. Abandoned.

She cannot believe what the servant told her. But it is strange, how the eyeless holes in his face seem to look.

She has to clear her throat before speaking. “They told me you were alive.”

“I’m sure you...rejoiced at the news.”

It’s his voice that does, forcibly, shock her. She is used to cold, to uncaring. Even when he’s been at his worst – for her benefit – he has always upheld some measure of dignity. Of resentment. She is not used to a thin whistle that sounds like that of a man three times his age. She is not used to him sounding exhausted by a few words.

It frightens her, and she doesn’t know why.

She ignores his feeble sarcasm. “Are you in pain?”

He frowns – maybe, it’s hard to tell. “I was. I’m not now. I think...I think I will be again.”

This takes him far too long to say, with many stuttered breaths in between.

“My lungs are scarred,” he continues, matter of fact, still slow. “There are...drugs to ease the tissue, that they want to give me.”

“Take them, then.”

“You’d allow that?”

A chill creeps up the back of her neck. She’d forgotten once again that he knows. “Whatever will work, husband.”

He looks – no, she has to stop using that word – turns away from her, out. A reddened, shiny-palmed hand gropes at the counter by his bed. “The mask,” he says. “There...should be a mask – “

There is one, hung from a thin tube that connects to a cylinder on the floor. She hands it to him and he presses it to his face, takes a few breaths, removes it. His hand shakes. “Oxygen,” he explains, “I’ll need it. On and off.”

His voice is no less ragged, but perhaps a hint of strength has crept back into it. Stupidly, out of habit, she wonders if he’ll still be able to use the Voice after this.

“Aren’t you going to ask me if I did it?”

The words have left her mouth before she can think. Stupid. Stupid thing to say.

Something that’s almost an ironic smile crawls across his face. “I know you didn’t. Your methods are... more subtle.”

At least she’s in no danger of being accused of a murder attempt. Again.

“Your eyes,” she says. She’ll either get to the bottom of the rumours or he’ll refuse to tell her anything. Whichever, she’ll take it. “Is there anything to be done about them?”

He’s silent. His hand still shakes. He must not think she notices, but she does.

If he won’t talk, she will have to probe. “I heard a rumour. Though it might just be one of the many things people say about you.”

He turns back to her, and she stiffens. One thing they never taught her was how hard it is to read a face without eyes.

Don’t break the silence, she tells herself. Hold it. He will speak first.

After a minute, he does.

“It’s a strange thing,” he says, voice almost disappearing into the rasp. “To see...seconds before an event. To...to know an action...before a response is necessary.”

She swallows, throat suddenly very dry. “That would be strange. For someone with that ability.”

“You’re wearing blue.”

Something cold drips down her back, vertebrae by vertebrae. “I often wear blue.”

The red, burnt out holes in his face stare blankly at her, his mouth moving with automated sureness. “You’re moving your hand – there – “ she’d raised it, without thinking. “You’re still here. I thought you would leave by now. And still. You’re sitting here. Still there.”

Fuck. Any plan she had, any thought of how to scrape together what remained of her torn up plots snaps out of existence. She can’t say just how this changes things, but it does. It does.

She can’t think. He’s looking at her again, really looking – she hates it, she hates all of it, she wants to crawl out of her skin to stop those raw sockets being able to see what she’s doing and what she will do – what she’s thinking, for all she knows.

“I did not know your abilities had grown so precise,” she says, fighting away the tremor in her voice.

“Neither did I.”

He raises the mask again, takes a muffled, ragged breath. She can’t look at him. He sickens her – has always sickened her. And even now, when he should have been dead, surviving yet again a thing that would kill most...

He should be dead. It’s as if he’s under a curse, doomed to shrink and diminish until he’s a crumbling thing that should be dead a hundred times over, that somehow retains a beating heart. Why won’t he just die, why won’t he just die...

“It isn’t always right,” he says. “Sometimes there are slight differences – vision to reality. It’s...a struggle.”

There are gaps in the armour then, little ways through. But for what end? For what purpose? Everything she’s tried thus far has fallen to pieces – after twelve fucking years is trying even worth it anymore?

“Alia,” he says, sounding confused.

“Do you – do you want me to have her summoned?”

“No...she’s beside you. Not yet.”

It’s just then that she hears running footsteps behind the door, a young girl’s agitated voice.

Paul is looking at her again – he’s looking at her. Smug. Exhausted. Can one be both? “Have I shocked you again, Irulan?”

@fuckyeahisawthat please tell me if you'd like me to stop tagging you in dune stuff be honest bc if not i'm gonna be Annoying about it

[beanghostprincess]

Who the fuck cares about his ability I want him viscerally

[yansurnummu]

also in our recent duoing vet dlc dungeons shenanigans, I think the most fun we've had is in red petal bastion, even tho it took us 30 min to get past the first boss

[ferdieinceladoncity]

war of the coprophages/syzgy (fucking hell, two episode names I can't spell without looking them up) are truly like sooo insane to me. They're both a lot of fun and y'know what, I kind of love the extreme bitchiness of mulder and scully. Yeah, look, I'm well aware it's kind of a misogynistic trope to have the female character suddenly get all possessive when the male character goes after another girl and Scully immediately hates her to death. However. Well. It's juicy. Scully girl you have GOT to stand up for yourself but the fact that you sleep with your phone on your pillow waiting for a call from Mulder intrigues me.

[sunlightfeeling]

I woke up a half-hour ago and started hearing what sounded like a dog toy rattling….its 1:30 in the morning for perspective

and i put off going to the noise because im a scaredy baby and thought it was gonna be like a mutant roach or something

i finally went over to it because it wouldn’t stop and was so loud

guess what it was?

…

okay actually at first i thought it was a piece of plastic hitting my instant pot and i was gonna laugh because i was being soooo absurd

but…no I WAS ACTUALLY RIGHT….the noise kept going after i fixed them and went back to bed 😭

do you want to see the beastie…? he trapped himself in a cup like a dumbass which is why this rattling kept going on

don’t look if phobic to roaches and the like