Latest Posts by chemococktailonthehouse - Page 7

I like not having fandom sideblogs. read my posts boy

heya

Heyaaaaa

They’re both silly guys with so much flair!

alastor is very megamind coded in a way i can’t explain

Y’all the new episodes go CRAZY!! I’m gonna have so much shit to say tomorrow y’all don’t even know 😤

I just want everyone to know that even though the strike ends tomorrow, and I will go back to my normal type of content, I will never stop supporting Gaza and Palestine as a whole. I will keep reblogging important posts about Palestine. I will continue to boycott the companies. I will return to my normal life, but those in Gaza cannot, and I will never forget that.

Free Palestine!

He is so teenage girl coded! Literally giggling and kicking his feet!

I am frothing at the mouth to see the rest of this scene! It is so so fun to get to see Alastor and Charlie have what feels like their first real conversation. Also Alastor sort of letting his guard down? Just that moment of “you don’t know what I’m thinking or how I feel because I keep my guard up” was so so fun to see. Also he’s soooo about to tell her about Carmilla which I think is so interesting. Cause like, sure, it could just be to spice things up and see what Charlie does with this information. But it could also be because he wants to help her. Like a lot of what he says to her feels like his form of a peptalk, even if he is being an ass about it. I’ll be really curious to see how it all plays out when the episode drops.

language is really telling. palestinians die vaguely, but israeli’s are specifically killed. palestinian little girls are called young women, but israeli little girls get to be called the children that they are. pay attention to the words being used. you might not even notice it’s propaganda you’re reading.

palestine masterpost-masterpost

i've been trying my best to collect a bunch of links to other, more structured resources about the genocide in gaza, and what you, reading this, can do about it, that i'm going to compile here.

DON'T SCROLL PAST. LOOK THROUGH THE LINKS. REBLOG.

less and less people are talking about gaza every day, but it is still a very real crisis.

education, donations, speaking out, global links (masterpost)

links to contextual articles

for americans - state/congressional contacts

how you can help palestine - donations, petitions, campaigns, upcoming protests (masterpost)

non-politically motivated charity links

canary mission

petitions and congressional contact (masterpost)

education, current news, taking action, direct action and donations, current protests (masterpost)

small monetary actions

2700 ebooks on israel and palestine, available for free

thorough article by storiesfromgaza, dated 10/30/23

targeted boycott + bds

how to find state/congressional contacts, bds, email template, donation links

sudan and congo

egypt, us/uk/canada/europe congressional contacts

direct links to help palestine

educate yourself (twitter links)

translating gaza (instagram link)

bds/targeted boycott information

compilation of palestine info and how to support it (masterpost), dated 10/28/23

latest info as of 11/3/23 and large amounts of immediate action to take (masterpost)

history of palestine and israel - articles, books, films, social media (masterpost)

socials to follow

journalists in north gaza

btselem

Alone - Renfield

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.