The Myriad of Ficlets
Title: The Myriad of Ficlets
Fandom: The Lost Boys.
Characters: Marko, David, Paul, Dwayne, and three made-ups for comedic effect.
Prompt: 039, 052, 072, 090, 054, 045, 008, 091, 040, and 097.
Word Count: Between 177 and 250 words.
Author's Notes: Reposted from my old journal,
iheartchuu.
Lemon
224 words.
Rating: T
039: Taste.
The Merry-Go-Round was always a fun place to harass people. David would step up to a girl, unmindful of any boyfriend sitting next to them, and turn on him charm full blast. He could be a total gentleman, but in a bad way, or a total bastard. The boyfriend was always angry, no matter how David was treating her. The fun of backing David up when he did this never failed to amuse Marko.
Tonight was no different; there was David, whispering into the girl's ear as the boyfriend glared daggers. If looks could kill, David would be... well, he was already, technically, dead. But the girl just blushed and giggled, looking at David demurely. Yeah, thought Marko, she's a total tiger in the sack.
He'd had enough girls of his own to know the tigers from the lambs from the boards. Marko liked pretty things, so his nights used to be filled with chasing skirts and feeling up girls under the boardwalk before sucking them dry.
That was before Paul came into the picture. Whenever Marko thought about going back to his old ways of chasing every pretty girl, it left a sour taste in his mouth, like he'd eaten a lemon. No, Paul was different, even for a boardwalk rat, and prettier than any girl could hope to be. Marko knew it.
Smoke
228 words.
Rating: M
052: Fire.
The bonfire roared on the beach, the hippies dancing spastically around it in their weird flowy way. Way farther down the beach, another fire was going, with more people. Punks. David cocked an eye at it, but passed it off. Their blood was pumped with adrenaline; they needed some victims that would fight a little. Marko bit his lower lip in anticipation, eyes gleaming as he looked on the scene.
David stepped forward first, as always, and Dwayne was right behind him, Marko taking the next step, and Paul the last. The hippies took no notice to the silent predators stalking them, the prey. This was always the best part: the surprise.
David attacked first, taking on the heaviest and most challenging of the hippies. The others stopped a little, yelling a little until Dwayne grabbed one and chomped down on his neck. Marko grew hard; the smoke from the fire burned at his eyes, but the sight of his brothers feeding never failed to excite him.
He clicked his teeth together, knowing that Paul was hungry and couldn't feed until Marko had. Reaching out with one hand, Marko pulled one of the girls trying to escape into his arms, her back pressed up against his front. She whimpered in fear, and Marko grinned, his face a distorted demon's face, before he slid his fangs into her neck roughly. Bliss flowed into his mouth, and he knew that Paul had already chosen his own victim.
Later, Marko would be thrown to the floor by Dwayne, be fucked by David, and he'd almost-choke Paul with his own cock, if Paul had a gag-reflex. It would be rough and hard and bloody and painful and full of so much pleasure.
Lay
178 words.
Rating: M
072: Fixed.
Marko gasped, his hand moving down to curl in Dwayne's hair, tugging lightly at it as Dwayne's tongue traced the head of his cock. It was a bit of a surprise, really, to be taken back to this marvelous little gem amoung the cliffs by Dwayne and David, and for this to happen after... It blew Marko's mind just a little.
He'd had sex before, sure. With men, even. As a runaway, as an orphan, he'd maybe had to for money before. Marko wasn't proud of it, but Dwayne's mouth drew his thoughts away from those memories to think about tonight, about how Dwayne had lain him down on the bed softly, took his time worshiping Marko's body as each inch of skin was revealed.
And now, Dwayne's mouth a haven of suction and wetness and heat, of Dwayne's tongue and even the pain from his teeth, was pure heaven. Moaning softly, Marko's hips arched up just a touch, but Dwayne only swallowed more into his mouth.
Vampire Squid
202 words.
Rating: T
090: It.
Maybe Marko was a little high, okay? But what if he, like, turned other things than people? Like a... like a fucking dog or something? How would that work out?
Marko let out a puff of smoke, seeming so slow as it was expelled from his mouth. He swallowed a little, blinking his eyes. Maybe it was just him, but was the room moving a little? Maybe not. Probably not. It'd be harsher if it was an earthquake.
But like, what if he turned a dog? That would be fucking funny. He giggled to himself, passing the joint to Paul to his right. Or like, something really outlandish. A fucking dolphin or a squid or a whale or some shit like that. A vampire whale. He giggled again, and David, to his left, thumped his leg, giving Marko a stern glare. Apparently smoke-time was serious time.
Marko just gave him a flirtatious grin and crawled into his lap, curling his arms around David's neck and pressing his nose into David's throat, nipping at David's adam's apple. Feeling David's arms wrap back around him, press them closer together, Marko knew he'd done the right thing.
Leap
193 words.
Rating: E+
054: Air.
When Marko and David first came up with the train-tracks idea, they had found Paul. It was Paul's initiation. When they first came up with it, David was, as always, much more confident in most ways than Marko was. He let go, and just dropped into the fog below. Marko was more hesitant, holding on as the tracks rattled, before he too let go. His hands hurt from the force of the rattling, but it felt so good to let go, to free fall, especially since he couldn't fall to the ground, couldn't hit, unless he didn't stop himself.
But taking that leap, it was always a rush. They did it every time a train went by; they did it with Paul, and then Dwayne, and then Michael. Michael was the last and final time, but Marko didn't know that at the time. All he knew was the air rushing up around him, through his long blonde curls and past his ears, the rushing sound almost like the sound of the sea crashing loudly against the shore of a violent storm.
Marko learned to love letting go.
Squishy
218 words.
Rating: T
045: Moon
He held out the cone for Marko to take, but Marko just blinked a few times, almost curiously. "Um, what?" Marko said, rather eloquently.
David rolled his eyes and nodded his head to the cone. "I got that for you. I figured we could have a little fun and eat ice cream on the boardwalk or under it or on the beach or whatever the hell you want to do," he said, giving Marko a little grin. "So take it."
Gum squished under someone's shoe, making a weird noise, and Marko looked down at the feet of person standing behind him, his eyebrows raised as the person grimaced at the gum. He looked back up at David, who stood there, still holding the ice cream cones. He took the cone from David gingerly, his stomach grumbling softly just at the sight of it.
Marko blushed softly at the noises his stomach made, but David merely smiled at him and slung an arm around Marko's shoulders, walking them down the boardwalk, slurping at the ice cream. He leaned in close to Marko, whispering into his ear. "Come on. I want to see you bathed in moonlight. You'll look like a fucking angel, Marko, I swear."
Marko ducked his head. How could anyone protest something like that?
House
242 words.
Rating: E+
008: Weeks.
The first time he was in the hotel lobby, the one collapsed into the cave, their home, Marko was entranced. He still finds little alcoves to traipse off to for alone time (and not even that kind), hallways and abandoned rooms, new things to preoccupy himself with.
Marko was a curious person, and a curious vampire.
After five years of living in the cave, Marko found somewhere to make his own. It was a large room down a few hallways; confusing unless one knew how to get there and which room to look for. Marko did, after exploring. He'd gotten lost quite a few times because the hotel coupled with the size of the actual cliffs only made it harder to find his way around.
The room, however, was hardly touched. The bed was still made, fresh but for the coat of dust on everything. A good sprucing up, straightening the things that *had* fallen, would transform the old looking room into a sanctuary for Marko. He set to work cleaning and polishing. As a vampire, Marko had a good deal of time on his hands.
A week or two later, posters lined the walls, the bed was unmade and looked slept-in, he had clothes hanging in the closet, a stereo on the desk, even a journal in the locked drawer. Marko kept the key with him at all times.
This was his real home, this tiny room nowhere special.
Running
251 words.
Rating: T. Warning for possible triggers for vague mentions of child abuse, sexual and physical.
091: Birthday.
As a preteen, Marko learned just how to escape foster homes, how to outrun police, how to cross states, how to get free rides and even free meals. By the time he was a teen, Marko was completely schooled in the way of a runaway. He was a professional runaway, practically. He'd only been caught, what, four times since he was twelve? And we was seventeen now. Seventeen, ready to turn eighteen any month now. He'd tell whoever asked, if he would ever keep track of the days. No, Marko didn't have that luxury anymore. Not since his parents died.
Marko ran and ran, away from abusive fathers, away from drug-addicted mothers, away from parents who wanted to touch him, away from parents who wanted to sell him. One would think after so many shitty homes, they'd learn how to keep kids out of those homes, but that would imply that the government actually cared about stray kids.
He took one look at Santa Carla, and his ideas were confirmed. The government kept themselves ignorant. It was all for the better anyway. Marko didn't want the shitty government all up in his business, down his throat looking for his secrets. No sir, that was about the opposite of what he wanted.
Marko settled nicely in Santa Carla, and could finally stop his running. Stop his hiding. Stop trying to blend in with the crowd.
His birthday was coming up soon. He couldn't wait.
Pretty
221 words.
Rating: T. Language.
040: Sight.
Marko stared at the guy in the crowd, his eyes narrowed in on the guy. David and Dwayne stood nearby, eating popcorn and throwing it at random people that passed. Marko's attention was on the golden-haired kid flowing upstream from the rest of the crowd. His lips quirked into a smile.
"He's pretty," Dwayne whispered into Marko's ear, leaning forward once he saw what, or who, exactly Marko was looking at. Marko just nodded his agreement, resting his chin on his knuckles, his elbows on the ledge of the boardwalk.
David came up to his other side, watching the kid as well, and popped a piece of popcorn into his mouth, letting out a great, suffering sigh. "Go talk to him, you dumbshit," David said, raising an eyebrow and giving Marko a look. Marko raised an eyebrow right back at him, but didn't say anything.
Turning back to watch the guy again, Marko came face to face with him. He blinked his large eyes before a wide smile broke onto his face. Charming was always the best default to have. "Hey, man," he greeted, holding his hand out for the handshake everyone knew. The blonde did, and smiled a little as well. Marko nearly creamed himself at that smile.
It was gonna be a long night.
Sensual
228 words.
Rating: T
097: Writer's Choice. [Movement]
Dancing is what always interested him. The way the body flowed, the way muscles moved under the skin, the way the skin moved. How an action reflected the person dancing. Everything about dancing was pretty fucking symbolic, in Marko's mind.
He'd come to Santa Carla as part of a wandering gypsy clique. They'd increased in number once the sixties and seventies were in their prime, and Marko stumbled into the little beach town in the middle of the sweep. He wasn't a very outstanding person himself; plain curly blonde hair, oddly large but sunken eyes, tan skin. He wore long, loose clothes just like the rest of the people he traveled with, and even if they believed in a weird version of life, nature, and god, Marko didn't care. He was there for the dancing.
He'd dance and dance away to Piper playing on the little flute, and Moonstar on the drums, and even Greta on the guitar. Marko's body moved in ways that the people who watched envied. It was so... intimate, the way he moved. So personal, and sensual, and just plain sexy.
David saw it. Paul saw it. It wasn't long before Marko the Star Dancer of a traveling group of performing stoners became the third member of the Lost Boys, the third member of a family.
Fandom: The Lost Boys.
Characters: Marko, David, Paul, Dwayne, and three made-ups for comedic effect.
Prompt: 039, 052, 072, 090, 054, 045, 008, 091, 040, and 097.
Word Count: Between 177 and 250 words.
Author's Notes: Reposted from my old journal,
iheartchuu.Lemon
224 words.
Rating: T
039: Taste.
The Merry-Go-Round was always a fun place to harass people. David would step up to a girl, unmindful of any boyfriend sitting next to them, and turn on him charm full blast. He could be a total gentleman, but in a bad way, or a total bastard. The boyfriend was always angry, no matter how David was treating her. The fun of backing David up when he did this never failed to amuse Marko.
Tonight was no different; there was David, whispering into the girl's ear as the boyfriend glared daggers. If looks could kill, David would be... well, he was already, technically, dead. But the girl just blushed and giggled, looking at David demurely. Yeah, thought Marko, she's a total tiger in the sack.
He'd had enough girls of his own to know the tigers from the lambs from the boards. Marko liked pretty things, so his nights used to be filled with chasing skirts and feeling up girls under the boardwalk before sucking them dry.
That was before Paul came into the picture. Whenever Marko thought about going back to his old ways of chasing every pretty girl, it left a sour taste in his mouth, like he'd eaten a lemon. No, Paul was different, even for a boardwalk rat, and prettier than any girl could hope to be. Marko knew it.
Smoke
228 words.
Rating: M
052: Fire.
The bonfire roared on the beach, the hippies dancing spastically around it in their weird flowy way. Way farther down the beach, another fire was going, with more people. Punks. David cocked an eye at it, but passed it off. Their blood was pumped with adrenaline; they needed some victims that would fight a little. Marko bit his lower lip in anticipation, eyes gleaming as he looked on the scene.
David stepped forward first, as always, and Dwayne was right behind him, Marko taking the next step, and Paul the last. The hippies took no notice to the silent predators stalking them, the prey. This was always the best part: the surprise.
David attacked first, taking on the heaviest and most challenging of the hippies. The others stopped a little, yelling a little until Dwayne grabbed one and chomped down on his neck. Marko grew hard; the smoke from the fire burned at his eyes, but the sight of his brothers feeding never failed to excite him.
He clicked his teeth together, knowing that Paul was hungry and couldn't feed until Marko had. Reaching out with one hand, Marko pulled one of the girls trying to escape into his arms, her back pressed up against his front. She whimpered in fear, and Marko grinned, his face a distorted demon's face, before he slid his fangs into her neck roughly. Bliss flowed into his mouth, and he knew that Paul had already chosen his own victim.
Later, Marko would be thrown to the floor by Dwayne, be fucked by David, and he'd almost-choke Paul with his own cock, if Paul had a gag-reflex. It would be rough and hard and bloody and painful and full of so much pleasure.
Lay
178 words.
Rating: M
072: Fixed.
Marko gasped, his hand moving down to curl in Dwayne's hair, tugging lightly at it as Dwayne's tongue traced the head of his cock. It was a bit of a surprise, really, to be taken back to this marvelous little gem amoung the cliffs by Dwayne and David, and for this to happen after... It blew Marko's mind just a little.
He'd had sex before, sure. With men, even. As a runaway, as an orphan, he'd maybe had to for money before. Marko wasn't proud of it, but Dwayne's mouth drew his thoughts away from those memories to think about tonight, about how Dwayne had lain him down on the bed softly, took his time worshiping Marko's body as each inch of skin was revealed.
And now, Dwayne's mouth a haven of suction and wetness and heat, of Dwayne's tongue and even the pain from his teeth, was pure heaven. Moaning softly, Marko's hips arched up just a touch, but Dwayne only swallowed more into his mouth.
Vampire Squid
202 words.
Rating: T
090: It.
Maybe Marko was a little high, okay? But what if he, like, turned other things than people? Like a... like a fucking dog or something? How would that work out?
Marko let out a puff of smoke, seeming so slow as it was expelled from his mouth. He swallowed a little, blinking his eyes. Maybe it was just him, but was the room moving a little? Maybe not. Probably not. It'd be harsher if it was an earthquake.
But like, what if he turned a dog? That would be fucking funny. He giggled to himself, passing the joint to Paul to his right. Or like, something really outlandish. A fucking dolphin or a squid or a whale or some shit like that. A vampire whale. He giggled again, and David, to his left, thumped his leg, giving Marko a stern glare. Apparently smoke-time was serious time.
Marko just gave him a flirtatious grin and crawled into his lap, curling his arms around David's neck and pressing his nose into David's throat, nipping at David's adam's apple. Feeling David's arms wrap back around him, press them closer together, Marko knew he'd done the right thing.
Leap
193 words.
Rating: E+
054: Air.
When Marko and David first came up with the train-tracks idea, they had found Paul. It was Paul's initiation. When they first came up with it, David was, as always, much more confident in most ways than Marko was. He let go, and just dropped into the fog below. Marko was more hesitant, holding on as the tracks rattled, before he too let go. His hands hurt from the force of the rattling, but it felt so good to let go, to free fall, especially since he couldn't fall to the ground, couldn't hit, unless he didn't stop himself.
But taking that leap, it was always a rush. They did it every time a train went by; they did it with Paul, and then Dwayne, and then Michael. Michael was the last and final time, but Marko didn't know that at the time. All he knew was the air rushing up around him, through his long blonde curls and past his ears, the rushing sound almost like the sound of the sea crashing loudly against the shore of a violent storm.
Marko learned to love letting go.
Squishy
218 words.
Rating: T
045: Moon
He held out the cone for Marko to take, but Marko just blinked a few times, almost curiously. "Um, what?" Marko said, rather eloquently.
David rolled his eyes and nodded his head to the cone. "I got that for you. I figured we could have a little fun and eat ice cream on the boardwalk or under it or on the beach or whatever the hell you want to do," he said, giving Marko a little grin. "So take it."
Gum squished under someone's shoe, making a weird noise, and Marko looked down at the feet of person standing behind him, his eyebrows raised as the person grimaced at the gum. He looked back up at David, who stood there, still holding the ice cream cones. He took the cone from David gingerly, his stomach grumbling softly just at the sight of it.
Marko blushed softly at the noises his stomach made, but David merely smiled at him and slung an arm around Marko's shoulders, walking them down the boardwalk, slurping at the ice cream. He leaned in close to Marko, whispering into his ear. "Come on. I want to see you bathed in moonlight. You'll look like a fucking angel, Marko, I swear."
Marko ducked his head. How could anyone protest something like that?
House
242 words.
Rating: E+
008: Weeks.
The first time he was in the hotel lobby, the one collapsed into the cave, their home, Marko was entranced. He still finds little alcoves to traipse off to for alone time (and not even that kind), hallways and abandoned rooms, new things to preoccupy himself with.
Marko was a curious person, and a curious vampire.
After five years of living in the cave, Marko found somewhere to make his own. It was a large room down a few hallways; confusing unless one knew how to get there and which room to look for. Marko did, after exploring. He'd gotten lost quite a few times because the hotel coupled with the size of the actual cliffs only made it harder to find his way around.
The room, however, was hardly touched. The bed was still made, fresh but for the coat of dust on everything. A good sprucing up, straightening the things that *had* fallen, would transform the old looking room into a sanctuary for Marko. He set to work cleaning and polishing. As a vampire, Marko had a good deal of time on his hands.
A week or two later, posters lined the walls, the bed was unmade and looked slept-in, he had clothes hanging in the closet, a stereo on the desk, even a journal in the locked drawer. Marko kept the key with him at all times.
This was his real home, this tiny room nowhere special.
Running
251 words.
Rating: T. Warning for possible triggers for vague mentions of child abuse, sexual and physical.
091: Birthday.
As a preteen, Marko learned just how to escape foster homes, how to outrun police, how to cross states, how to get free rides and even free meals. By the time he was a teen, Marko was completely schooled in the way of a runaway. He was a professional runaway, practically. He'd only been caught, what, four times since he was twelve? And we was seventeen now. Seventeen, ready to turn eighteen any month now. He'd tell whoever asked, if he would ever keep track of the days. No, Marko didn't have that luxury anymore. Not since his parents died.
Marko ran and ran, away from abusive fathers, away from drug-addicted mothers, away from parents who wanted to touch him, away from parents who wanted to sell him. One would think after so many shitty homes, they'd learn how to keep kids out of those homes, but that would imply that the government actually cared about stray kids.
He took one look at Santa Carla, and his ideas were confirmed. The government kept themselves ignorant. It was all for the better anyway. Marko didn't want the shitty government all up in his business, down his throat looking for his secrets. No sir, that was about the opposite of what he wanted.
Marko settled nicely in Santa Carla, and could finally stop his running. Stop his hiding. Stop trying to blend in with the crowd.
His birthday was coming up soon. He couldn't wait.
Pretty
221 words.
Rating: T. Language.
040: Sight.
Marko stared at the guy in the crowd, his eyes narrowed in on the guy. David and Dwayne stood nearby, eating popcorn and throwing it at random people that passed. Marko's attention was on the golden-haired kid flowing upstream from the rest of the crowd. His lips quirked into a smile.
"He's pretty," Dwayne whispered into Marko's ear, leaning forward once he saw what, or who, exactly Marko was looking at. Marko just nodded his agreement, resting his chin on his knuckles, his elbows on the ledge of the boardwalk.
David came up to his other side, watching the kid as well, and popped a piece of popcorn into his mouth, letting out a great, suffering sigh. "Go talk to him, you dumbshit," David said, raising an eyebrow and giving Marko a look. Marko raised an eyebrow right back at him, but didn't say anything.
Turning back to watch the guy again, Marko came face to face with him. He blinked his large eyes before a wide smile broke onto his face. Charming was always the best default to have. "Hey, man," he greeted, holding his hand out for the handshake everyone knew. The blonde did, and smiled a little as well. Marko nearly creamed himself at that smile.
It was gonna be a long night.
Sensual
228 words.
Rating: T
097: Writer's Choice. [Movement]
Dancing is what always interested him. The way the body flowed, the way muscles moved under the skin, the way the skin moved. How an action reflected the person dancing. Everything about dancing was pretty fucking symbolic, in Marko's mind.
He'd come to Santa Carla as part of a wandering gypsy clique. They'd increased in number once the sixties and seventies were in their prime, and Marko stumbled into the little beach town in the middle of the sweep. He wasn't a very outstanding person himself; plain curly blonde hair, oddly large but sunken eyes, tan skin. He wore long, loose clothes just like the rest of the people he traveled with, and even if they believed in a weird version of life, nature, and god, Marko didn't care. He was there for the dancing.
He'd dance and dance away to Piper playing on the little flute, and Moonstar on the drums, and even Greta on the guitar. Marko's body moved in ways that the people who watched envied. It was so... intimate, the way he moved. So personal, and sensual, and just plain sexy.
David saw it. Paul saw it. It wasn't long before Marko the Star Dancer of a traveling group of performing stoners became the third member of the Lost Boys, the third member of a family.