#coming out of the coffin

[eggcatsreads]

𝕮𝖔𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝕺𝖚𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕮𝖔𝖋𝖋𝖎𝖓 and its sequel by D.A. Holmes are fun, campy horror novels that expertly weave the real struggles many of us face within the community, along with the more specific ones faced by our vampiric main character - Vlad Radu.

Faced with the decision to come out - both to his parents and the world at large - while he tries living a "normal" human life with a minimum wage job (and a massive crush on your neighbor) is no easy task. This is made even harder as he keeps getting caught in more and more dangerous (and sometimes ridiculous) situations. Together with his coworker and best friend Alison Grady, they have to learn how to survive Vlad’s new life as a vampire living with humans.

I really recommend these novels if you were looking for a bit of fresh air in the vampire genre with a lot of moments of hilarity - as well as a good dash of danger (and a little romance) thrown in. Both of these books were super fun reads, and I finished them both in like a 2 day span that helped me start to break my most recent reading slump.

(Also, I love the cover art for these books 😍).

[the-stars-sigh-when-i-get-high]

If the wiki’s are right…Sookie Stackhouse is 25 at the beginning of the show, born in 1979, 2 years after Vampires came out of the coffin.

1979+25=2004-2=2002

Vampires Came Out of The Coffin in 2002✨

There are some places that have her birth as 1983 which would put The Great Revelation in the year 2006 🤷

[egophiliac]

still ruminating over Lost In the Book With Spooky Skeletons Part 1, so here's a selection of some of my favorite little bits! (...some more loosely paraphrased than others) (I just feel like Idia has no room to criticize in general, okay)

anyway, I'm sure we're just going to have a fun time celebrating Halloween and nothing bad is going to happen whatsoever! :)

[vamprisms]

writers that try to make monsters like vampires an allegory for like... systematically oppressed people but they still like rip people's throats out and the oppressors have a real reason to fear and try to subjugate them and call them fake slurs like fangers or whatever. like.... what are you talking about you're scaring me.

[factual-fantasy]

Just a heads up to new artists who might not know this: tracing people's artwork and posting it as your own is not okay. With or without credit, its stolen if you don't have permission.

This is why I continue to stay out of the Octonauts fandom and now probably will not return. Even months after leaving the fandom I'm still getting new art tracers and thieves.

If you absolutely have to trace and post it, just ask the artist first. If they say no then don't trace their artwork.

[s0fter-sin]

“simon riley’s dead,” ghost chokes out; bitter resentment coating his tongue. “i’m just wearin’ ‘is corpse.”

mactavish doesn’t shy from his venom; sees through his hiss and doesn’t fear his rotten-fanged bite. he reaches out, pressing the flat of his hand to his breast and ghost damns himself for the way his breath catches; for the way his shoulders curl in around it in a silent plea for it to stay.

“that’s no drum in your chest,” he whispers defiantly.

his hand slowly drags over his chest, coming to rest over his sternum and he feels its possession like a brand against his skin.

“it ain’t bellows inflating your lungs,” he dares and he involuntarily inhales; his body longing to rise to his challenge.

mactavish pushes and he rocks back on his heels just to sway in closer; just to beg for the pressure to chase the phantom weight of six feet of dirt from his bones.

“you’re far from rigor mortis, riley,” he promises and there’s air at ghost’s back instead of decaying wood and infested flesh. “i won’t let the earth take you from me yet.”

[bishy437]

congratulations to moshang for being the most popular pairing of my mxtx charms! 💙 🧡

And congratulations to Coffin!Hualian for being the overall most popular item LOL ❤️🤍

[radiance1]

Jack got into an accident that booted him out from his own universe, leaving him stranded in an entirely different universe. Danny came along with him, but is pretty much weakened by whatever situation they were in before where he wanted to keep his dad alive.

Jack searched around for what he had on him, a few ecto-batteries, a Fenton thermos and his jumpsuit.

Luckily around him laid the very destroyed yet salvageable parts of a machine that was brought along when this happened. So he took it apart and decided to make something outta it.

Danny meanwhile is not doing that hot, so he took to sleeping his fatigue away, he doesn't know how long it'll take but eh. So when his father built a coffin he very happily climbed in and started napping away.

Which, it wasn't supposed to be a coffin nor for him to sleep in, but Jack just went what the hell and decided to modify his original plan. Installing the ecto-batteries he tinkered them to draw in the ambient ectoplasm from their surroundings (which is far less than Amity Park but eh) and release it into the coffin to act as some kind of recharge station for his kidd-o. At least he hopes, then added some straps so he could put it and voila.

There strapped to his back was the Fenton-coffin, bound to (hopefully) recharge your ghost kid from either sickness, loss of power or both! Call now and you can get on for-

Now with Danny safely secured to his back and in a safe (enough) environment. Jack went on to (hopefully) find something to get them back home.

It is weird seeing superheroes that aren't ghosts though.

[greenieflor]

Corroded coffin releases a new album with a ballad called "princess". A bunch of fans use this song as "proof" that eddie is straight until an interviewer asks him about it point blank. He smiles and tells them that it's about gay sex with his husband and the entire fanbase goes wild

[dailyloopdeloop]

DAY 71: shy

[theokusgallery]

Calling The Distortion "Michael" in the same way people give names to their appliances. Michael The Distortion = Basil The Microwave. That's not really its name and if you call it that it doesn't really fit

[theblobmaster]

i read this fic the other day that gave me an interesting idea for a jaydick fic. i have never written them i probably won't ever write this idea. it'd have to be a long fic for it to be satisfying

but the premise is just: what if dick was visiting jason's grave the day superboy prime decided to punch reality and therefore bringing back jason? and in this version superboy prime's punch reverts jason back to how he was before the joker got to him, none of his physical injuries present. the psychological damage is still there. i think i remember that his brain damage came from being hit by a truck as soon as he got out of his grave

but just dick visiting jason's grave, sitting down and talking to his gravestone when there's a sudden shift in the air lasting barely a second and then he can hear muffled cries from underneath him.

dick unsure how to react for a moment but the muffled cries continue and then he's running to borrow a spade from the groundskeeper. maybe they're there and try to stop him, maybe they're not and dick is alone in the graveyard except for the cries coming from jason's grave.

just dick being there to meet jason halfway as he tries to breakout of his coffin and crushing him to his chest because somehow jason is alive and they can figure out how and why later.

and maybe jason is confused because him and dick weren't close before he died and he's still disoriented from waking up in a coffin and why is dick crying and clutching him. but he lets himself be held because the last thing he remembers is being alone and knowing he's going to die and now he's not alone.

it'd be so interesting to explore how much that would change his dynamic with the family as a whole. wish i had the writing chops to flesh this more out.

[heycallmeplease]

I love you, so much and so truly darling, I love looking at you, I love whispering all my secrets to you, I love kissing you good night, I love letting you know how much I do, I do, I do, baby I love you, can't you see ?

@skyrigel

[sourscratched]

some old old fang gang sketches

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

Calvin Rose finds a catatonic teenager roaming the streets and… well, the poor kid looks dead on his feet, and it’s raining cats and dogs, he can’t just leave him there.

And, it’s fine. He’s just passing through (can’t risk more with the Court still at large) and will be back on the road come morning. And he’ll sleep easier knowing he kept the kid from certain death.

So, really, how the hell did he end up with the very same kid riding shotgun and nagging him to turn up the radio to Phoebe Bridgers?

[s0fter-sin]

ghost stares at the ceiling, chest heaving in a harsh pant; sweat ice on his clammy flesh and soaked into the sheet he restlessly kicks away.

ears still ringing, his fingertips blindly drift down to trail along his vivisection scar. he half-expects blood to smear in their wake. his own line of solomon, who ordered him split in twain; half of him given to a grieving mother and half left with the grieving to be.

just for both his broken halves to be rejected.

what did it make him that his mother grieved him more than she loved him? that she begged to be relieved of him more adamantly than she begged to receive him? why did his worth spill out with his drawn blood? why was his pain lesser than hers?

his hand flexes, digging into the raised scar like it’ll part beneath his fingertips to plunge into his mangled insides. no one knows the cruelty of reforming the halved; his name, his being, not nearly as important as his body when he was stripped from himself. no one knows the pain of healing and understanding losing pieces of yourself means losing your value along with them.

how many more pieces did he have to lose before he was halved once more? before his very presence incurred grief so strong it was better to be rid of him than cradle his bloodied remains?

did the infant fight himself? did he age always at odds with himself; his halves never truly whole? he hopes he wasn’t, that he was spared the loss of self; the fear that one may be welcomed over the other.

who will he lose when the inevitable comes? when he’s ripped apart again? simon? or ghost? is it better to be cursed with choice just like his mother or live with an aftermath chosen for him? does it matter if in the end, he convinces himself there was nothing of him left to lose?

his head lolls to the side and the wild buck of his chest slows. he watches johnny beside him, his face lax with the rare peace of sleep; his cheek squished against the pillow, his lips pursed as long breaths escape him.

johnny. soap. never torn asunder but two all the same.

he carefully reaches out and ghosts his fingers along the jagged scar on his chin. even in sleep, he presses into his bloodied touch. he’s never fled his half-flesh, never shies away from his gore as it spills unbidden from his cleaved torso. he holds on where his mother let him go; cups his stomach to hold his insides in place and never minds the blood that drips through his fingers.

simon will never let him become his own solomon and cannibalise himself. he will never let him question which half of him has more value; which pieces he can afford to lose before he’s cast aside.

ghost’s soap. simon’s johnny. his.

whole, in any incarnation.