✋😔
hazbin hotel IS about hell and lucifer IS a prominent character on it but he is NOT the one that lurks in the shadows waiting to strike deals and tempt the characters into darkness. that's just some guy from louisiana who is also there.
Need to start watching this (along with so so many other shows)
Sam & Bucky (Part 63)
It’s like they made a movie just for me specifically
I watched The Fall Guy yesterday
— this movie is on the same tier as The Mummy for me now and The Mummy is one of my favorite movies (i still think the mummy might be better though)
— Ryan Gosling plays the PERFECT sap in love. Ryan Gosling sitting in his car crying his eyes out while listening to Taylor Swift nearly had ME in tears of laughter
— i normally despise “self-aware” jabs from movies that know they’re movies but somehow this one got under my defenses and I loved it?????
— I haven’t seen a series of stunts this insane since the Bourne Identity and this movie might have eclipsed it. It’s a movie about a stunt man so the movie is about STUNTS. They could have wrapped it up at any point and I would have been satisfied but they kept upping the ante FOR NO REASON EXCEPT TO DELIGHT ME PERSONALLY and the fights were so well choreographed and edited i never was like “huh?”
— the dog lives and is never harmed even once
— good believable villain
— DID I MENTION THE STUNTS GO SO HARD IT’S INSANE
— is it momoa or mamoa?
— “Do the aliens believe in, ah, private conversations?” “No.”
— Right as I was thinking “for a movie that makes such amazing use of it’s action star cast, it’s disappointing that Emily Blunt isn’t….”
you done gasted every flabber that i had
This is a fic I wrote back during my college’s production of Kate Hamill’s Dracula: A Feminist Revenge Fantasy(which you should totally go read btw). Anyway, this fic stars everyone’s favorite Renfield in a religious-esk fervor.
WC: 957
TW: SH, imprisonment, drugged, mental asylum, Renfield is in poor mental health(which is to be expected), no beta we die like men
Enjoy!
Reinfield stared hard at the writings on the wall. She picked at the skin on her leg, absentmindedly taking the fresh scab from under her nails and rolling it between her teeth. Why hadn’t her Father come? Maybe the lines weren’t straight enough? Pulling the blanket from her bed, she scrubbed the chalk from the walls and started again.
Our Father
Who art in Earth
Of Earth
And by Earth
Hallowed be thy -
Capitalize the T. A swipe of the blanket and she started again.
Our Father
And again.
Who art in Earth
And again.
Hallowed be Thy na-
The chalk snapped. She slowly ran her finger through the powder and rubbed it between her fingers. She swiped it across the wall:
-me.
With new vigor she began again, rubbing the chalk against the wall until the pads of her fingers were raw. She scratched at her leg again and was met with something sticky. The beginnings of a fresh scab. Dark, barely coagulated blood clumped around the site.
Of course! Daddy deserves better! Better than chalk!!
She clawed at the site and began marking that cursed plea. He’ll see. He’ll come. He HAS to come! First she traced over the chalk, the blood drying quickly. The prayer spread across the wall until the blood vessels constricted and the bleeding slowed to a trickle. She whined and rocked on her heels, rolling her tongue between her teeth. The taste of metal made her pause and she spit on the ground, a small red hue highlighting her saliva. She licked her teeth again, feeling the fresh wound in her mouth.
Suddenly, with great conviction, she bit into the flesh of her forearm. She hissed, and pushed on until that bitter, metallic tang pooled between her lips and ran down her chin. It dripped, dripped, dripped onto the ground before with a big sweep she smeared a giant O across the floor. She scrambled across the floor as she went. Bloody footprints began to stain her new-found writing ground. Shaking with adrenaline and excitement she panted that cursed prayer under her breath.
Certainly he will come! He’ll see I AM his most beloved child! He will bring me home! Take me from here!
She moaned and giggled and mewled as she stroked crimson streaks across her chamber. Sticky hands ran through tangled hair; over her eyes and across her cheeks and down her arms until she appeared covered in afterbirth. I am reborn. Freshly made new in His image. She kissed the ground and moved with religious fervor, shaking and dancing as the blood dried and flaked and cracked against her skin. Her muscles grew weak and tired and empty as she curled up in the corner, her head rested against the word Father written on the wall.
Certainly he will come. Make me new. Take me home.
….
“Renfield.”
She moaned and pressed herself farther up against the wall, “leave me for my Father.”
“Renfield.” There was a hand against her cheek, wiping just beneath her eye. She swatted the hand away and peered up at her harasser, “I said leave me for —.”
Her voice caught, “Father?”
“I’m here, Renfield.”
“Father!” She moved to leap toward him and he caught her shoulders, “Easy, easy, I’ve got you.” Gently he lifted her up and held her to his chest.
“I knew you’d come! They said I was foolish and naive but I knew you would come for me!”
“Shhhhhh,” he set her gently down on the bed. He took each wrist in hand and laid them down at her sides, “you must rest now.”
“But Father-“
“Shhhhhh. You need to lie still , Renfield.”
“Please don’t leave me here! Please Father!” A deep weight settled over her, tugging at her eyes and sitting on her chest, “please.”
“I’m sorry, Renfield.”
“But-“
“Sleep.”
…
The first thing Renfield became aware of was a thick wad of cloth in her mouth. She tongued it for a moment or two before reaching up to pull the damned thing from her mouth. The moment she lifted her arm it was pulled back toward the bed with a clang. She tried again.
No. No no no no no.
She writhed against the restraints and clawed and the bed and kicked and pulled and thrashed and shook and screamed and screamed and screamed. Not that anyone heard her. The cloth muffled her wails before they even had time to escape.
I’ve failed. I’ve failed. I’ve failed and now he’s never coming.
Renfield thrashed back and forth, shaking the bet with her fit before it finally fell on its side. She hung from the restraints, her head resting on the ground. The floor and walls, now clean and purified, stunk with disinfectant. They destroyed it. A tear, then two, rolled off the side of her face and dripped to the floor.
A door opened from somewhere behind her. “Oh, Renfield. I’m here,” Seward appeared from around the end of the bed. “Miller, help me lift her. We’ve got you, Renfield.”
They hoisted the bed back upright, taking Renfield along with it. Seward reached up and wiped the side of her face. He turned, nodded at Miller, and she scurried off.
Wait.
“You have to rest, Renfield, or you’ll reopen the wound,” he grabbed the blanket from the ground and laid it back over her.
No.
Miller returned, that venomous vial in hand. Renfield’s eyes darted from Seward to Miller to the vial and back. Seward took it from her and steadied Renfield’s arm, “easy, easy, I’ve got you.”
No no no no no. He was never here.
A quick pinch, a burn, and that weight began to descend again.
He’s forgotten me.
“I’m sorry, Renfield”
I. Am. Alone.
Oh what am I doing? Oh, you know, just creating an extensive document compiling information for a cosplay I probably won’t (and definitely don’t have the skills to) make
I think if I see AI added into one more search program I might explode
girls r like "but he's my comfort character" and then it's literally the most emotionally traumatized man you have ever seen ever
Got some fics rattling around in the ol’ noggin. May write about it. AO3 is @cozy_josieJosie | 23 | She/TheyPlease ask me questions(or just tell me your favorite color) :)
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