Could You Maybe Reblog This Post If You Think Respecting Trans Peoples' Names And Identities Is A Basic

The Tale of a bisque-fired Vampire

My biggest regret in life was not finishing my transition. Which wasn’t my fault, but my chance was cut short. That alone is enough to make a guy vengeful, but do you know what actually reanimated me?

My family took the time and paid the money to separate out my hand bones and skull, had them cleaned and articulated. They actually cremated me, as asked, and portioned out my ashes to be used in both a pound of clay and to make two memorial diamonds. They followed my will to the letter, and I know that they read it all the way through. I know because of the one thing that they didn’t do.

As I watched my service from beyond, tears began to well up in my nonexistent eyes. My parents did not once acknowledge me as their son. My sister never once referred to me as her brother. And not a single one of my friends whom I was out to, nor my partner, were invited to the ceremony.

I had to sit there alone, and take it, even from beyond the grave… The exact same misgendering which had crushed me in life had managed to affect me here too. And that was too much for me.

I really wanted to believe It could’ve been a mistake. I had to believe that they just couldn’t find the right opportunity during the whole thing… but then they only confirmed it by finishing the aforementioned disposal of my old body.

There was a clause in my will, which would have saved them all that time and money, if they had just acknowledged me. But they chose to jump through all those other hoops instead. In picking the equivalent of “draw 25 cards”, they had inadvertently stacked the deck quite nicely for my return.

When they finally left my remains alone in one place I went to work. I tried out my hands first. Moving the bones was like slipping back on a worn out pair of work gloves. Thankfully they were just as articulate as I had specified in my will. With these disembodied hand, I set the respective memorial diamonds in the eye sockets of my skull. It was dazzling to finally see the world without the need for glasses.

Overjoyed that things were going to plan, I set my newly reanimated skull on a high out of the way shelf. From this vantage point I could survey the next step in my plan without worrying about clouding my new eyes. On the table where they stored my remains, I started to pull out and knead the porcelain ash-clay. I took my pound of once-flesh and miraculously stretched it back out into a proper body. One sculpted, not in the image of who I’d once been, but as I had always wished to become. It pained me to have to slice into the beautiful creation in order to embed my cleaver bones in the right places. I just had to remind myself that it would be worth it.

Next, I needed to let my new form dry out a bit before I could finally install myself inside. Thankfully nobody bothered to visit my old art studio once in that span of time. And It took over a week to dry out completely. During that time I couldn’t help but wonder why no one ever came to do anything with my remains…?

Eventually, as the moisture left my new form, I ceased to care about it. Instead I began to focus on a budding new sensation: I felt a sense of self return to me. One that had been absent in life. It was a wonderful experience, but it came packaged with another. As I reveled in the discovery of this feeling, I also felt the fury animating me grow stronger.

It was a necessary fire that began to stoke within my spirit, one that spread to my, as of yet, unfinished vessel. An otherworldly amount of outrage bisque fired me from the inside out as I realized I could’ve had this feeling in life too if mine hadn’t been cut short!

If I had inhabited a traditional corpse, this would have been the point at which I’d have dug myself out of my grave and made plans to pay my family a nightly visit…

Instead, I jerked into a sitting position on the craft table. Not stiffly, like someone else’s Frankenstein monster, but rather in smooth and fluid motion as my own person. Yes, finally as my own person…

It was a novel feeling, and for a moment I contemplated forgiveness. The thought was only a momentary flash against the dark, overwhelming, need to carry out my own personal vengeance.

They didn’t have to provide me with the means to do this… and yet they did it anyway out of stubbornness! Well, two can play at that game… but I don’t think I shall stoop to that level.

With a quirk of my new ceramic lips, I flashed the world with a sharp porcelain smile as a better idea came to mind. In time, I figure, they will come to regret their choices all on their own. Meanwhile, however, I will do the most vengeful thing I can do with this inadvertent gift they’ve handed me. I will go out into the world and live on without them, this time as my truest self.

And if they don’t like it… well, I could still use a glaze firing, and a fresh brilliant red coat of glaze would absolutely complete my new look.

Lately, Data had been on something of a ‘weird history’ kick. During his last shift, someone had mentioned, off hand as a ‘Fun Fact’, that Vulcans were not “technically” the first race to contact humanity. This was news to Data. He found it fascinating that no one ever spoke about this phenomenon. He spent the whole night wondered what actual merit there was to the subject while he rested. In the morning he decided to hunker down in his room with Spot and do some further research.

That morning became noon, and from noon it became evening. Spot mewed to be fed or petted, but unfortunately Data could not hear her from the bottom of his digital rabbit hole. There was too much to learn. The ship’s archives had articles on easily a thousand named species, supposedly sighted in just the mid twentieth century alone!He, of course, found that most ended up to be hoaxes as he read further into them, but a few were truly genuine.

A favorite example example of his were the Arcturians of Arcturus Four. They were quite advanced, supposedly being capable long distance space travel since some 10,500 years ago. Most of them didn’t look all that much different from standard modern humans. Give or take a post war mutant. As species they specialized in genetic engineering and production of exceptionally lifelike androids.

They had sent a ship to earth near the dawn of humanity, but other than that they weren’t really well documented by the federation until sometime within the past hundred years.

Data wanted to spent all of tomorrow and then some on the topic of Arcturians, but he quickly ran out reading material. As they were currently, the ship’s records of them had very large and crucial gaps in them. He tried to look for any other sources on subject outside of the archive, but came up empty. Well except for one result from the crew roster: supposedly there was an Arcturian who worked the night shift in the sickbay… which gave Data an idea.

“You know, Spot, I would really like to meet this ‘Dr. Morbius’.” Data absentmindedly admitted to his cat. “Mrrr-urp?” Replied Spot, perking up from her nap. “You’re correct, sick-bay is not far from here, but he might be busy…” Data reminded her. “Meow” Spot countered, walking over to sit by one of Data’s clocks. “Hmm, well, it is late. Maybe he wouldn’t be very busy after all… plus he might enjoy some company.” Data decided, getting up from his chair.

“Mew?” Asked Spot, as she determinedly trotted after Data. He paused at the door, “Oh! I almost forgot. Let me get you dinner before I go”. Spot let out a warm purr at the notion.

/|\^;;’/|\ .:@:. /|\^;;’/|\ .:@:. /|\^;;’/|\

You are at the point in the night where you are both starving and feeling nauseated at the same time. If you can wait five more minutes, for probably absolutely nothing to happen, then you can get your nightly “drink”… and leave.

Four minutes can not elapse quickly enough for you; you have keep yourself from gnawing on the inside of your cheek out of impatience. The ship’s blasted lighting isn’t Helping Either!

The only reliably dark room on this entire floor is your cabin, and only because you have control of the lighting inside of it. Everywhere else makes you want to claw your own eyes out around this time of night.

But it will be ok. Relief is only three minutes away now. Yes, sweet, salty, red relief…

You know you can’t keep doing this. You can not continue to do this every night. Eventually, someone will notice the pattern. Eventually, you will slip up… and they will catch you.

But your shift is over in two minutes, now. And you don’t give a damn at this point. You already started packing up four minutes ago… the rest of this, just starring down the clock, has been to punish yourself.

It’s time to go.

You tuck your chair in and pocket your data pad like none of that just ran through your head.

You stop at the medical replicator on the way out. You dare not use voice commands for this, instead typing out your dirty order on the ‘archaic’ psychical screen. It takes a second, and then you have your prize.

If only it had been this easy back in your day…

Your spirits are lifted quite a great deal as you walk out the door. Not even the dreadful hallway lighting can bring you down now!

A quick walk home is all that stands between you and liquid bliss…

The monotonous hallway is easily tuned out with the lovely swish of your nondescript thermos’s contents. It, sadly, doesn’t have the same effect on the nearby sound of footsteps approaching from behind.

“Hello? Oh, excuse me, but did you just come from Sick-bay? I’m looking for Dr.Morbius, do you know if he’s left yet?” Asks the cause of you disturbance.

You cringe inwardly: you were asked for by name… what could they possibly want with you right now?

You turn to face the interloper, and with your best bedside manner, reply “Yes, but I’m afraid that I am just now leaving. Did you need medical attention?” Through all but gritted teeth.

“No, I do not require medical attention currently, but do require your assistance with something else!” Enquires the sallow skinned man, expression and voice locked at neutral.

You try not to make a face, “Is that so?”. You sigh. “what exactly do you need from me at this time of night?” You ask with some trepidation.

“I would like learn more about your Home-world, Arcturus Four, what can you tell me about it?” He asks with lukewarm smile, inflection just barely reaching out of monotony and into excitement.

“Hmmm, plenty?… but I do not, exactly, have the time to-night. Maybe could this be a rain check?” You ask, in a manner you hope is casual, begging him to take a hint. “Oh, are you sure you do not have a minute?” He asks, continuing to beg the question while you start to disengage.

“I am positive, and it is nearly morning, Mr. …?” “Data” “right, καλησπέρα, Mr. Data! And Goodbye.” You tell him forcefully as you power walk away, hoping that he doesn’t pursue the matter.

“Oh… ok, sleep well doctor…” you hear as a muffled response from far behind you. You are happy to finally put some distance between yourself and him, but it rankles you that that will not fix the rapidly changing temperature of your prized treat.

“So help me, god, if there are clots in this!” You mutter to yourself as you finally approach you cabin door . Sigh, so much for your morning.

/|\^;;’/|\ .:@:. /|\^;;’/|\ .:@:. /|\^;;’/|\

Later that morning, in Ten Forward, Data saw Geordi at breakfast and decided to tell him about his conversation last night. “Hey Data, how are you this morning?” Geordi asked as the android sat down across from him. “I am fine, how are you today, Geordi?” Data replies, internally pleased with his delivery. He had been practicing!

“Doing good, doing good… but you know, I don’t think I saw you at all yesterday? Was everything alright?” Geordi asked, concern evident in the line of his mouth and the set of his brow. Data frowned, “I did not mean to alarm anyone, I merely got sidetracked with some research based on that ‘Fun Fact’ O’Brian shared with us the other day.”.

“Oh, that one, huh?” Geordi asked with a puzzled expression, and he paused a second in thought. “Well, did you find anything interesting?” He eventually asked politely.

Data thought we would never ask; delighted, he began telling Geordi about all of his findings, in Alphabetical order!

Geordi nodded along politely as he ate his breakfast, but he noticed when Data started losing steam around the ‘Ar’s. He even had a peculiar expression as he told him about ‘Arcturians’.

“Did you know we have one on broad?” He asked he friend, oddly solemn about it. “Hmm, I don’t think I did.” Geordi replied, “But why do you say it like that? Did something happen?” He added.

Data paused, trying to figure out the best place to start. “I met him last night, he works the night shift in the Sick-bay near my quarters. I went there to ask him some questions I had gleaned from gaps in my research on his people. I do not think he felt like answering questions, he asked for a ‘rain check’.” .

Data looked thoughtful, “In that context, a ‘rain check’ does not necessarily mean actually rescheduling, does it?” He asked Geordi.

Geordi looked at his friend with pity, he was impressed that he picked up on that. “No Data, it doesn’t. I’m sorry he was like that, maybe he was just busy?” Geordi offered, trying to console his friend.

“I am not sure. He was walking with urgency, but in the opposite direction of the Sick-bay.” Data replied. “He said he was on his way home, but it felt suspicious. He seemed to be hiding something while we talked…” the android said with some confusion.

“Huh, well that does seem strange…” Geordi agreed, “Do you think we should investigate it?” Data postulates with surprising firmness.

Geordi is not sure how to break it to him that that’s probably not a good idea…

“I don’t know about that, Data” he says, choosing his words carefully, “that’s not really my department. Also, whatever Dr. Morbius is doing, it’s probably none of our business”.

Data ponders his response.

“ I see, Geordi… but what if it becomes the captain’s business?” Data wonders. That isn’t what Geordi meant, that’s not what Data should take away from this…

“I mean… maybe? But do you have, any, proof?” Geordi asks, hoping to deescalate the android’s train of thought. That was the wrong question.

“You are absolutely correct, Geordi! I need proof, first.” Data declared dramatically, and he knew exactly where he was going to find it…

.:@ /|\^;;’ End Chapter 1 of 4 ‘;;^/|\ @:.

Morbius: The Living Vampire (1992) #8

Head canons for Multimedia-Morbs

TAS: is the only: Romanian, one with both parents, one not sick, and one without a doctorate. He does impress everyone with his palm suckers (it’s more scientific curiosity than anything). Also surprises the rest by being friendly with blade and black cat. Is the closest to being an actual hero.

Ultimate: was probably raised by his father, it would explain a lot; his ethics, posh English accent, penchant for being backstabbing etc… he would be secretly jealous of the others for having love interests and/or dead bestfriends (he didn’t have a Nikos or Martine). Could be considered the token evil teammate, but he’s only ever been as successful long term as dr.doofensmirtz, so… practically harmless? he Is definitely the worst at teamwork, or even partnership. Gets made fun of for his life draining ability.

616: all the comics have happened to him, so he is tired and just wants to settle down with the lizard as a lab partner. Still has every version of his costume though, even the 90s one (is surprised to see that TAS and Movie’s costumes reference it). His power set and personality slightly change depending on which costume he wears. Probably ties with Midnight Son for knowing the most other superheroes. Is aware that he should probably be in his 80s or 90s if it weren’t for comic book time dilation.

Blood ties: never progressed past the stories in vampire tales, so is very confused when 616 Michael references things after them. He is very happy to know that he’ll eventually reunite with martine; no one tells him about the 90s out of kindness. His suit is navy and red where 616’s is black and red. He considers 616 to be his future, but really they’re more like divergent timelines.

Midnight Son: uses the literal deck of cards from the game to do his moves (he doesn’t think anything of it cause that’s just ‘how it works’), the others make fun of him for it. Probably has more costumes than 616 does, but they don’t really do anything (except for the yellow midnight Sun one having magical properties). He ties with Movie for being the handsomest (he wins prettiest vampire, movie wins prettiest human). Also, confuses the heck out of 616 whenever he talks about who is and isn’t on the midnight Sun’s roster (midnight suns the game and midnight sons the comics are very different). Is probably the best at teamwork.

Movie: is confused why everyone has Nikos as a childhood friend while he had Milo (isn’t sure which is better; dead best friend or evil best friend…?). Is slightly smug about being able to do the face thing. Baffles everyone by not knowing who Spider-man is but still knowing about Venom. Has a meta awareness of how poorly he stacks up to the rest of them; most of the others are impressed by his power set.

‘Say something’ by James

ATTENTION

If you see this you are OBLIGATED to reblog w/ the song currently stuck in your head :)

The question isn’t “will they kill him?”, it’s actually “will it stick?”. And if it doesn’t, how the fudge are they going to bring him back from that? Can he still be called “the living vampire”? Will they take his one claim to fame?

got this from twitter. if they kill off morbius im going with him.

Ok, so I don’t know if it’s common knowledge, but morbius’s first costume is the insulation layer of his electro therapy suit, right? It’s medical grade, he wasn’t planning on using it for anything else, just for this treatment…

Ok, knowing this, where did his little wingies/capelet come from then?

Like how were they a part of the original design of this article of clothing? Were they an original part the suit?

Because they aren’t a result of damage; they were there from the very beginning and aren’t shown to be ragged for a very long. And despite how often they used to disappear, they aren’t explicitly organic wings either; in shots from behind, the wingies are the same main color as his body suit and they’re only seen when he has this style of costume too. But there’s not really space for them inside the white outer layer either; cause they’re directly in the armpit and the white layer, while a little baggy, is still pretty form fitting. And they aren’t really a cape yet either, they’re just under the arm membranes; (the cape interpretation comes later).

Like, I get why they’re there in a meta sense: bat wings cause vampire, breaks up the overall black/navy bodysuit, harkens back to spidey’s original underarm web-wingies, and visually explains how he flies/glides(?).

But just what are they in universe?

*doom music starts to play* I actually kindof like scheduling these kinds of appointments now...

but seriously Fellas, don't forget to schedule a pap smear every couple of years just in case. If you still have a cervix you can still get cervical cancer. ilu

this has been a psa

Before January 2025:

If you are a USAmerican in a relationship that might be affected by legislation that dissolves same-sex marriages, who may no longer be recognized as next-of-kin, especially if you have children, get your rights in writing!

Your marriage certificate may not be enough to prove you have rights to make medical decisions for non-biological children or for a same-sex spouse or partner.

Go to a lawyer, get it spelled out as clearly as possible that you have a voice in emergency medical and legal situations.