it never ends

The Pinch of the Game, Part 1: Water; Rated T; Steve, Tony, Pre-slash.

phraxus — Sat, 21 Jul 2012 17:50:40 GMT

Title: The Pinch of the Game, Part 1: Water
Author: phraxus
Summary: A series of moments that change Tony's life.
Pairings/Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers. Pre-slash.
Rating: T.
Word Count: 1126.
A/N: Movie-verse. This is the result of my self-assigned one-thousand-word challenge; I write around a thousand words per prompt for one hundred prompts with the goal of tying them together.

PART 2: WATER

So, when he woke up this morning with drool running down his chin and a serious case of flat-faced from laying on the table in the lab all night, Tony was not expecting to end up the way he is right now. Honestly, it would have been a scene out of his wildest fantasies except that his body temperature was rapidly dropping and he couldn’t keep the water from entering the cracks in the suit. A fight with Magneto left him and Steve trapped under a building with a busted water pipe slowly flooding the basement room they couldn’t escape. They had a few feet left of air, and the Captain America suit had been ripped by Sabertooth clear down the middle so it was hanging, shredded, by his shoulders. Tony had looked his fill for the first hour, imagining what Steve would be capable of with all that strength hiding in those perfectly sculpted muscles, but they are nearing hour four and Tony is shivering. Even Steve looks a little blue in the lips.

“Anytime, guys,” Tony growls out over the communications line, and he hears Hawkeye’s huffed laugh of amusement, but nothing else. Not even Natasha telling Tony to shut up. What the fuck was going on up there?

“Shut up, Iron Man,” Steve grits out from the other side of the basement, filling in Black Widow’s role for the moment while the rest of the Avengers are busy doing fuck-all to help their teammates who could very well die of hypothermia. He and Steve have been keeping a pretty good distance from each other throughout this endeavor, and honestly, Tony knows it is for the best. At least now he isn’t tempted to reach out and touch anything that is definitely not his to be touched. Captain America is property of the United States Government. Right. Though, when Tony thinks about it, Steve is kind of the product of Stark Industries technology. …Did that mean Steve belongs to Tony? Is Steve Tony’s property?

Well that’s a completely new branch of fantasies he’ll have to deal with. You know, if they get out of this alive.

“No, seriously, Cap, Magneto’s been gone for at least a half hour and we’ve been down here for fucking ever,” Tony snarks back, his patience pretty much at the breaking point. Steve is just too distracting right now, what with the eyes and the body and his face and hair and just his everything, and Tony’s been so good since he realized that his childhood crush on Captain America was making a very untimely reappearance. “Get the Hulk and just have him smash his way through, for fuck’s sake-”

“There’s been an explosion on the other side of the city, Iron Man,” Widow says in her deadliest tone. Tony shuts up immediately, considers apologizing like he never does, just because of that tone. Widow could make him do almost anything talking like that. “Securing the building and the pedestrians around it is our prerogative right now.”

“Well thanks a bunch for letting me die of hypothermia in a fucking basement that smells like cat piss!” Tony shouts back and then starts considering cutting the communications lines but then his suit decides it for him because the water short-circuits something and his suit dies. “Fucking- fuck.”

“What’s wrong?” Steve asks, and Tony can’t even flail his arms in frustration because the suit is really fucking heavy and he can’t move without exerting a lot of energy. He’s been spending most of that energy trying to keep himself warm.

“Suit died,” Tony says, trying not to fume. It’s hard, seriously hard, not to be pissed because he’s going to die in a basement with Captain America over there ripped and wet and straight out of one of Tony’s dreams. He groans instead and lets himself relax, resolved with his imminent death. “I guess there are worse ways to die.”

Steve laughs from his side of the basement and Tony feels a sharp spike of annoyance. Of course golden boy is amused; he doesn’t have to deal with things like risking hypothermia, or like, fucking death, considering he’d been frozen inside a block of ice for, oh, seventy years. Tony, on the other hand, is actually human and is affected by shit like this.

“Like what?” Steve asks, smiling with all that distracting boyish charm that made Tony’s insides melt. He has to backtrack in their conversation to remember what they’re talking about, and Tony grins despite himself.

“Well there was this one time in Reno…”

It takes the Avengers another half hour to get them, but by that time Tony’s anger and impatience has diffused because Steve distracted him by trading stories about near-death situations. Steve knows about the time with the chick in Reno who almost suffocated him after sex by falling asleep with her sizeable breasts on his face, and Tony knows about the time in France with the Red Skulls and the wine barrels that nearly crushed Steve when they fell, and Steve found out about the time where Tony almost drowned in wine, and Tony knows about the time when Steve and Bucky ditched base one night and got kidnapped by some Nazi hot-shots who caught a lucky break.

Hulk smashes a brilliant hole of sunlight through the roof of the ceiling, and it’s only then that Tony starts to catalogue the things he notices all of a sudden. He realizes that he and Steve have been sharing body heat, even through the suit, and that they’ve gotten a lot closer during their little chat, and that there’s probably a foot and a half between the ceiling and the water, and really, he thought he was better at noticing things.

At least his distraction meant less bitching for the rest of the team to deal with. Especially Steve. Tony’s just glad Steve didn’t tell him to shut up when he brought up Reno, just blushed bright red when Tony started talking the nitty-gritty details.

They get pulled out by Thor’s (mighty and powerful) arm and out of the basement, Tony can finally get the suit off with the help of the others who press buttons and the pieces fall away to leave Tony in a pair of soaked boxers. Hulk-themed, actually, which Hulk seems to like a lot if his gorilla-like ground-pounding is any indication. He’s almost embarrassed but he’s Tony fucking Stark, so he just send Steve this little wink before they’re back off to SHIELD for paperwork.

Just another Wednesday.

The Pinch of the Game, Part 1: Lightning; Rated T; Steve, Tony, Pre-slash.

phraxus — Wed, 11 Jul 2012 04:13:49 GMT

Title: The Pinch of the Game, Part 1: Lightning
Author: phraxus
Summary: A series of moments that change Tony's life.
Pairings/Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers. Pre-slash.
Rating: T.
Word Count: 1084.
A/N: Movie-verse. This is the result of my self-assigned one-thousand-word challenge; I write around a thousand words per prompt for one hundred prompts with the goal of tying them together.

PART 1: LIGHTNING

Tony comes up from the lab with a data pad in his hands, tapping away as he checks his email for the hundredth time in the last half hour. There are a hundred new emails every time, and Tony doesn't even check them before deleting the ones he deems unimportant. He's wandering through the living room, half-awake and craving a hot cup of coffee, when a flash of light brightens up the living room. Tony startles, fumbling with the data pad, and almost has a heart attack (or, at least, it *felt* like a fucking heart attack, like the shrapnel inched a little closer to killing him) when he notices Steve's silhouette dark against the rain-splattered window. Finally hearing the thunder rumbling above and the sound of the rain pattering against the glass, Tony feels his heart rate slow down until he can announce his presence which seemed to have gone unnoticed thus far.

"O Captain my Captain," Tony teases, data pad shut off and hanging under his arm. He leaned his hip against the door frame of the room and narrowed his eyes in mock suspicion. "What's got you up at Tony Stark hours? You know you should be in bed dreaming of red, white, and blue."

Steve turns and the lightning flashes behind him, throwing him into stark contrast between the darkness of the room and the bright flash of light behind him. He looks almost ethereal and not a little gorgeous, and-

And Tony cuts those thoughts off because this is Captain fucking America, and he is not fifteen years old anymore.

Steve sighs and shrugs a shoulder, obviously trying to pass it off as nothing. It's not nothing, Tony knows. Steve usually sleeps through the night, especially after a big fight. They fought that fleet of Doombots today, right? Tony gets distracted by the data streams and working on code too much to be able to keep track of the hours he spends in the lab, so it's not like he actually knows when it all happened. Not exactly. It happened on a Tuesday, he thinks…

"Nothing," Steve says, and it jolts Tony out of his distracting mental ramblings. What's even more curious is the way Steve says it, like he wants to drop the subject and not talk about it. So, Tony does what Tony does best.

He talks enough for the both of them.

"Well, Cap, I don’t see what’s so wrong with talking to me, " he says, launching into a full-on rant complete with hand gestures as Tony steps farther into the room and carelessly tosses the data pad onto the couch. He can make another one, all the data was saved to the mainframe, so it isn’t like safety is an issue with that particular piece of technology. "I mean, I’m totally in your corner. One hundred percent! Okay, okay, maybe more like eighty-nine percent because like, ten percent of that is me being in my own corner and then there’s that one percent I like to save for rainy days when Fury’s actually not up my ass about missions and propriety. Seriously, Cap, there’s only so many times I can stand his bitching about getting drunk, you know, before I start wanting to set the repulsors on him. So, you know, I’m the most viable option for you to, like, get anything of your chest. " Manly chest. Manly, chiseled chest. Tony had seen that chest, divested of any t-shirts and with the shiny sheen of sweat all over. He bites the inside of his cheek before continuing. At least Steve’s got a smile on his face now, and it might be his "God Tony’s a mouthy annoying fuck" but it could be his “Tony’s right” smile. Only more rambling would tell. "And even if you don’t have anything to talk about, I’m like, right here to keep you company. Wanna watch a movie? "

And just like that, Tony throws the switch and flips the conversation because as much as he wants to know what’s going on inside Captain America’s mind, as much as he’s dying to find out what’s keeping the Cap up at odd hours, he’s not a complete dumb ass and he can tell when Steve needs to talk about something else. The blonde superhero seems to falter, actually considering the option, and Tony grins. That got him, didn’t it?

"Star Wars? I’ll even put on A New Hope, " Tony reasons, cocking his head to the side to study Steve. How did his father even make something so perfect…? He blinked rapidly and cleared the thought from his head because, just, no. He answers his own question with a well thought "It’s Howard Stark” and that ends his mental worship of Steve Rogers, Captain America. “C’mon, Steve. Otherwise you’ll just stay up moping or whatever as you stare soulfully out the window of my penthouse apartment. Seriously, where do you pull the maudlin from? I guess there’s enough space in your biceps for storage…"

Steve’s laugh rings bright and just loud enough to make Tony smile too, not loud enough to wake up the others sleeping down the hall. Tony's smile turns languid and he shuffles over to Steve, touching the blonde’s arm softly. "Go make us some tea and I'll get it all set up."

Those all-American baby blues glance down to Tony's (completely innocent) hand on his arm before the slowly raise back to Tony's face. The expression on Steve's is unreadable, and Tony frowns as he tries to discern the emotions hidden in the color of Steve's eyes, in the furrow of his brow, but Steve’s smiling and the expression melts away before he can put a name to anything he sees there. "Yeah," Steve nods, clapping a friendly hand on Tony's shoulder. "Alright. But *don't* fast-forward through the beginning this time. I actually like to read the opening."

Tony lets out a long-suffering sigh and rolls his eyes like he's being put-upon by such a simple task. Only Steve would want to read that long list of text, but then again, Tony's had years to acclimate to the movie, to its cultural significance, and years to memorize the words.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Cap."

MASTERPOST: The Pinch of the Game; Steve/Tony; Rated M.

phraxus — Wed, 11 Jul 2012 03:54:31 GMT

Title: The Pinch of the Game
Author: phraxus
Summary: The pinch of the game: the determining moment, the crucial point. It's a series of moments that changes Tony's life.
Pairings/Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers. Eventual Steve/Tony.
Rating: Overall, M - parts range from T to XM and are marked as such.
Word Count: ???
A/N: Movie-verse. This is the result of my self-assigned one-thousand-word challenge; I write around a thousand words per prompt for one hundred prompts with the goal of tying them together.

:: PART 1 :: PART 2 :: PART 3 :: PART 4 ::

Eleven Moments in Time

phraxus — Sun, 08 Jul 2012 06:14:05 GMT

Title: Eleven Moments in Time
Fandom: The Lost Boys
Prompts: 010, 011, 013, 023, 032, 033, 037, 038, 042, 062, 075.

You say I take and don’t give. I’ve given you everything I got. So don’t tell me that lie.
Prompt: 075, Shattered.
Words: 100.
Rating: T. Warning for homophobia.

Marko trembled from the intensity of his emotions, fingers digging into the slightly rough flesh of his palms. How could he say that? How could he-

Like Marko wasn't *trying* to change, like Marko *wanted* to be this way. Fuck no. He didn't want to be attracted to men, and it wasn’t anything that was done to him when he was young, so how could his father even think-

Marko ignored his father's disgusted look, the disappointment in his voice as he shouted at Marko. Get out. Get out! No son of mine!

He didn’t want to get stuck here anyway.

The report of my death was an exaggeration.
Prompt: 010, Years.
Words: 230.
Rating: M.

The reports in the papers mourned his loss. It was a small town anyway, a little piece of shit on the coast of Washington. Marko "Mickey" Lincoln had been a hot shot back in the 1930’s up there, but that hadn't mattered. He was a charming kid with the prospect to be something big because everyone knew him and he helped everyone. His body was never found, presumed to have been swept out at sea once they found his boat wrecked a few miles down with only his blood on the deck.

The truth, however, proved to be much different. More exhilarating, less tragic. David, lovely David, had made Marko fall in love with him. And Marko followed dutifully when they traveled south to David's home in Santa Carla, staging Marko's death and keeping a low profile in the cave for a few years after turning Marko with his Sire’s blood.

They only ventured out to visit Max, to strengthen themselves and get supplies and stay up to date on culture, or at night to play under the boardwalk and eat unsuspecting lovers. Hopped up on the lust in their blood, the endorphins and hormones of those hapless youth, David and Marko would kiss through the blood, getting off on the taste on their mingling tongues and the press of each other's thighs against their groins.

Prompt: 032, Sunset.
Sequel to Prompt 091 (Birthday).
Words: 94.
Rating: E+.

The first sunset he saw on the very coast of Santa Carla, his feet digging pleasantly into the sand, had been proceeded by Marko spending the night under the boardwalk and shivering slightly at the chill from the water that rolled off the ocean waves. He curled up under his blankets – he’d packed for this, had done this so many times that he knew how to run away professionally. But after being unable to find work anywhere, Marko was forced to eat the last of the food he’d stowed in his pack.

Prompt: 037, Sound.
Words: 192
Rating: XM. Hair-kink.

David thrust faster, petting his hands over Marko’s smooth, toned chest and stomach, fingers running down Marko’s strong thighs that were hooked around his waist. His hips snapped forward as he committed the sounds of their sex to memory. Marko’s little high-pitched whimpers, the sound of his balls slapping Marko’s ass every time his cock pounded into the lithe body beneath his, the keening as Marko came with his back arching up off the mattress. The panting as David fucked him through it, the sound of his cock as he slipped out of Marko’s ass and shuffled up to stroke his cock as he straddled Marko’s chest. Marko growled, eyes flashing gold in sudden arousal, and he opened his mouth even as his fangs lengthened. David groaned, fingers slipping over the head of his cock once, twice, and he came in thick ribbons over Marko’s chest, his neck, his face – it even got into Marko’s beautiful curly hair. David couldn’t help but grab Marko’s hair and tug him by his jaw forward so he could rub his cock against the silky tresses.

042: Triangle
Words: 157.
Rating: T.

David was in love with Marko far before Star came around to divert his attention. And she was merely a bandage on a fatal wound – far too little too late. Marko only had eyes for Paul, unfortunately, and barely let them trail away from the half-vampire who had yet to kill his first victim. And Paul? Paul was in love with Star. It was a triangle – a pentagon? – because Star was in love with David, and no one was okay.

Dwayne… Dwayne was the one who made them all better. Dwayne with his unreadable countenance and dark looks, Marko fell for Dwayne and David was strangely okay with that. Dwayne kept his arm around Marko, and as soon as Paul made his first kill he stopped having a “thing” for Star. And David? David learned to love what he had even if curly blondes with too-big eyes would haunt his dreams for the rest of his unlife.

033: Too Much
Words: 105.
Rating: XM.

Panting as he Dwayne slid into him alongside David, Marko growled and felt his fangs lengthening in his mouth, cutting at his lips. His head arched backward only to be dragged back down as David licked the blood from his mouth and then cut it open even more. “How’s it feel?” David said in his low gruff voice, the words accompanied by a brush of breath against his ear that had Marko shivering.

“It’s- it’s too much,” Marko panted, shaking his head and moaning softly. He couldn’t take this, he couldn’t- “So big, I’m gonna- I’m so full.”

011: Red
Words: 194.
Rating: M.

The bright smear of red over Michael’s lips after he brought the bottle away had Marko narrowing his eyes in interest. Attraction to other men wasn’t new to Marko, especially not after meeting the other boys that made up David’s ragtag little family, but he’d felt nothing for Michael except amusement at the human’s innocent and ignorance to their true nature. Now, with the blood sending them all into a high, Marko licked his lips as his eyes flashed gold. The urge to claim Michael was immediate and overwhelming, and later, when everyone had gone to bed and Michael was still reeling from the high of Sire’s blood, Marko had pinned him to a wall in one of the tunneled hallways of the old hotel. His fingers dipped under Michael’s shirt, tongue laving a spot on the now-half-vampire’s throat before his fangs sunk in. Michael keened softly, his own fingers scrabbling at Marko’s arms in an attempt to find purchase in the closest thing possible. Withdrawing his fangs, Marko grinned roughly, red now on his mouth, and pressed their lips together in a harsh kiss.

038: Touch. Sequel to Prompt 032 (Sunset). Part 3 in the Streetrat Universe.
Words: 114.
Rating: M. Warning for child abuse.

Marko’s fond memories of his mother were few and far between… he remembered her smell, a soft vanilla mixed with mildewed laundry; he remembered the sound of her voice, a strong and boastful tone; he even remembered the color of her eyes, the very same eyes that he himself had.

The truth was that Marko’s less fond memories of his mother circled all around her touch: hard grips to his tiny arms, fingernails piercing his skin, the shake of his body as she seethed in anger. He remembered the slaps across his face and the kicks to his ribs.

But those memories didn’t last long after Marko moved to Santa Carla.

062. Spring. Sequel to Prompt 038 (Touch). Part 4 in the Streetrat Universe.
Words: 180.
Rating: E+.

By Spring, Marko was living out of trashcans and shivering under a bundle of blankets he’d stolen from a hotel when they weren’t paying attention. Bathing in the ocean was his last resort at the end of the day, mostly because it was fucking cold, but Marko could sometimes steal into empty hotel rooms or break into empty houses for a quick rinse. Even more often came the sinks in the bathroom, liquid soap as his shampoo, or a hose on the side of a house. The winter wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but now Marko had a little rat’s nest of blankets and bags and newspaper under the boardwalk where no one could see him.

He’d finally commandeered a set of clean clothes and started traipsing around the boardwalk, mostly absentmindedly. The night was warm, and he smiled at the people passing by him with smiles on their own faces. He couldn’t fault them for their joy; he would be feeling just as happy if he were in their place.

Four Scenes

phraxus — Sun, 08 Jul 2012 01:36:41 GMT

Title: Four Scenes
Fandom: The Lost Boys.
Characters: Marko, David, Paul, Dwayne, Max. A dragon.
Prompt: 005, 016, 017, 029.
Word Count: Between 100 and 130 words.
Rating: Varied, T.
Author's Notes: Reposted from my old journal, iheartchuu.

005 - Last. 130 words.
Marko remembers the last time he and David kissed. It’s sharp in his mind, still, and it’s sharp in his chest as well. He remembers the way David’s pale skin shone in the moonlight as they stood at the mouth of the cave at night. He remembers the pale light glinting off David’s light blonde hair. He remembers the taste of blood on David’s soft, cool lips. He remembers thinking he would never be as happy as he was in that moment. He remembers the way his arms curled around David’s shoulders, the way David’s hands went to his own hips. It’s an old memory, one before Dwayne and Paul, one before Star and Laddie, one long before Michael. And no matter how hard he tries, he can’t forget it.

016 - Purple. 100 words.*
His eyes took in the brightly-lit main path of the boardwalk but caught on a swath of fabric dyed bright purple. It was just a little section of purple showing, bordered on either side by dark supple leather. Marko’s blue eyes flickered up to the face of the human wearing this dark purple shirt, the leather jacket – and their eyes met. Marko felt something rushing through his stomach, shivers of a sort from the way those eyes studied Marko in return. Marko smirked a little, not ashamed at being caught staring. He never backed down from a good challenge.

017 - Brown. 127 words.
The chocolate slid past David’s lips and Marko licked his own as his blue eyes were completely entranced by the sight. Valentine’s Day. Even knowing that David wasn’t *human*, that he was a vampire, Marko couldn’t change his own humanity.

He’d brought a chocolate heart when David invited him over, realizing quickly that David didn’t remember what the day was. And even if that had hurt a little, Marko tried not to care. David was a vampire; how was he expected to keep track of every single day that he was alive?

A small smile slid over David’s face and one echoed on Marko’s. “It’s good,” David told him, reaching over to touch Marko’s cheek. Marko’s smile turned shyer and he leaned his face into the touch.

029 - Birth. 100 words.*
Marko doesn’t remember much about being turned except the pain of his aching hunger and the overwhelming ecstasy he felt upon drinking blood the first time. He didn’t know what he was getting himself into, didn’t understand it fully until after his first kill. There was no birth in the sense that most things are birthed or rebirthed. There was nothing marking his fantastic transformation except for that pain, that elation, the sense of comfort and belonging he got when he looked to his brothers with new gold eyes and saw their love and acceptance shining right back at him.

Special

phraxus — Sun, 08 Jul 2012 00:40:51 GMT

Title: Special
Fandom: The Lost Boys.
Characters: Marko, David, Paul, Dwayne, Max. A dragon.
Prompt: 081, 015, 079, 076, 030.
Word Count: Between 147 and 363 words.
Rating: They vary, but none go over hard R.
Author's Notes: Reposted from my old journal, iheartchuu.

1. 081: Blind.
210 words.

Marko was a good boy. He never fought against his parents, he never got bad grades, he never got into fights, he never questioned god. Marko was baptized, had communion. He was a good Catholic boy, through and through.

As he grew older, Marko never fought against his parents, he never got bad grades, he never got into fights, he never questioned god. He was a good, Catholic boy going to a good, Catholic school. Good through and through.

He most certainly never touched his roommate, Dwayne, late at night when lights were out and everyone else was sleeping. Marko was a good Catholic boy, and would never crawl into bed with another boy unless it was necessary.

He would never run a hand over Dwayne's stomach, underneath his shirt, and down to hook into Dwayne's pants. He would never nudge Dwayne's pajama pants down, along with his boxers, all the while under the covers. He would never brush his fingers over Dwayne's cock, or curl his hand around the base, or start stroking the already hard member until Dwayne was panting in his ear and arching up into his hand.

Marko would never do that, because we was a good, Catholic boy through and through.

2. 015: Blue.
147 words.

Soaring through the sky, Marko looked down off the dragon's back with a critical eye. The villagers were all inside; good. He signalled to the other dragon rider on patrol with him, Paul, to head down to the valley. That's where the real damage was happening to the villagers.

Lephicho landed, hovering for a moment before dropping to the earth. Marko patted the neck of his peaceful blue dragon, the large lizard's eyes closing in pleasure from the touch. They both trodded along, Paul a good furlong away with his own eyes peeled for any impending trouble.

Something had been destroying crops, the ones that fed the town and kept it healthy. Max, the steward of the town, had taken it upon himself to send out the dragonriders to find out what, exactly, the trouble was.

Marko was ready to take on the challenge.

3. 079: Agony.
363 words.

He sat at his desk, looking like he was doing something productive on the computer when, in reality, Marko was just building a tower of paper clips, post-it notes, and binder clamps. Marko was rather impressed with himself if he was completely honest.

No one really ever came to check up on him, and he was given the most menial of tasks (data entry; what an exciting career for him), so usually Marko finished up early and fooled around until it was time to clock out. He would clock out early, but the hours were required to get his full paycheck. Marko learned that lesson the hard way.

Max stopped by on his way to his own office, something with an actual window and four walls that meant something instead of the shitty cubicle Marko got stuck in. He was holding a cup of coffee. "How are you coming along there, Marko?" he asked in his 'I'm About to Drop a Bomb on You But I'll Act Like a Nice Guy Until I Do' voice.

His body was turned towards his computer, so it was easy to pretend that he'd actually been doing work, and the little tower was out of view from Max. "I'm coming along fine, sir," Marko replied easily, giving him a forced smile. Fucking work on Saturday; he knew it.

David stopped by ten minutes after Max swung by to lay the news on Marko (not only Saturday, but SUNDAY too, for fuck's sake). "You're working this weekend, huh?" he asked Marko in a sympathetic voice, mouth quirked downward in genuine concern, or something of that sort. Marko just nodded. David leaned against one wall of the cubicle, silent for a moment.

"Come on," he said, standing back upright. "Let's go get lunch. Paul and Dwayne are waiting at Hopper's already."

Marko stood up and sighed, his tower collapsing into a heap of office supplies.

"Thursdays suck," David proclaimed with a shrug as they walked outside, their sides close enough to bump comfortably against one another, their hands brushing lightly as they swung by their sides.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Marko sighed in reply.

4. 076: Rebirth
259 words.

Skin crawling over his bones, shifting, his muscles aching and his joints pounding with pain. It was pain everywhere, and somewhere he heard a groan. It could have been him, it could have been anyone. His skin was cold, but growing warmer each moment as every hair on his body grew thicker, longer, creating a thick coat of fur. He fell forward onto his hands... his fingers adorned with sharp claws at the ends now. His body was morphing, hands growing into paws, joints and bones and muscles shifting into place, growing or shrinking. It was pure agony, really, and he could barely stand it the first time it happened, or the next. Each time it seemed worse.

The pain radiated for a full minute, like a fire burning high and fast, but it was over, and he could barely remember feeling something so good; each time after shifting into his wolf form, Marko felt more at home, more in tune with nature and his body, safer, faster, stronger, sleeker. Everything was heightened, everything was nearly perfect. He howled at the moon loudly, his hair standing on end in excitement as he did, almost like a bird fluffing up its feathers.

He heard an answering call from his brothers; Paul, Dwayne, David. They formed a square of howling, larger-than-normal wolves. David came up to him, nuzzling at his neck, and Marko bared it with trust, respect, and utter love. This was the way among them: the stray pack of lonely werewolves, boys merely lost in the world.

5. 030: Death.
201 words.

Marko was dying. The virus was spreading from his lungs to his stomach, and he couldn't keep anything down. He was on a liquid diet now, nutrients through a fucking IV. The latest strain from the GY-Virus was insane to handle, at best. Marko didn't know *how* exactly he'd lived this long, but the doctors were doing their best to convince everyone involved that they could save him. He was on experimental treatment: a fucking lab rat, now.

But Marko wouldn't keep them from doing whatever they wanted to him. They could pump him full of lead, literally or figuratively, and it wouldn't make a difference.

Marko was dying. He knew it. He could feel the virus eating away at every bit of energy he had, devouring his cells until they were pretty much unusable. With all the technology in the world, how far down the line they'd gotten, maybe it wasn't such a surprise that this stumped medical officials more than AIDS and HIV had way back when, or even cancer. The GY-Virus was all three combined; a lethal triad of an attack.

Marko was dying, but he wasn't alone.

Disconnected, Connect

phraxus — Sun, 08 Jul 2012 00:39:31 GMT

Title: Disconnected, Connect
Fandom: The Lost Boys
Characters: Marko, David, Dwayne, and Paul. Star and Laddie mentioned.
Prompt: 019, 051, 002, and 059.
Word Count: Between 94 and 499 words.
Rating: T, I'm sure. Warnings for language - the f-bomb more than once, gasp!
Author's Notes: Reposted from my old journal, iheartchuu.

Kites
499 words.
019: Pink.

The wind came out full force at night in Santa Carla, on some nights at least. The windy coast of California was the best place to fly kites... during the day.

Marko saw the remains of a kite-flying day once when they'd rode out just after sunset. He'd seen the way they'd soared through the sky, and he'd swallowed as he stared at their graceful movements through the air, riding the wind like Marko rode his bike. And when one got away, Marko stared after it longingly. Sometimes he wished he could be like those kites, or like a balloon let go. He wondered where he'd end up if that was the case.

Tonight David and Star needed "alone time" in the cave. Marko had coughed a little to hide his smirk and snort of laughter. Dwayne and Paul hadn't fared any better, but poor Laddie didn't know what was going on at all. All for the better. Dwayne had taken off with Laddie to a more southern part of the beach, knowing that the little half-vampire would want to see the rides, maybe go on some. Dwayne was above that, of course, but he took to Laddie pretty well and the kid could - figuratively speaking - get away with murder. Marko and Paul headed out to Hudson's Bluff, Paul carrying some sort of bag with him. Marko asked what it was, but Paul refused to tell.

They got there with plenty of time to spare; all they needed was to be back at the cave before sunrise, or stop in at Max's house if absolutely necessary.

Everyone avoided necessity.

They parked their bikes a good ways from the edge of the bluff, and sat down in the sand leisurely. Marko even hummed a little to himself, wishing a little that he'd brought the boombox with him. Oh well, he thought, toeing the sand with his boot. There was always tomorrow night.

The moon was out, full and heavy and oh-so-white, and Marko looked up at it almost curiously as the sand moved around from the wind. He heard rustling behind him, and turned to look, finding Paul taking something heavy out of the bag, some weird kind of pink fabric. With a tail. And a string.

A pink kite.

They locked eyes, and Marko blinked first. Paul smiled.

"I've seen the way you look at them," he confessed with a tiny sigh. "I thought you might like to be a kid for a little while."

Marko didn't say anything for a long moment, and Paul's smile dimmed in the silence. "Sorry, yeah, it was a dumb idea, I don't know what I was thi-"

Marko cut him off with a finger to Paul's lips, his movements almost too quick for Paul to pick up on, but Paul was older even if Marko was faster. "No. It's... it's fucking perfect."

The kite sailed through the sky, and Marko flew higher and farther than he ever had before.

Mermaids
290 words.
051: Water.

Looking out over the water as he stood on the beach, Marko smirked a little, kicking off his boots and shucking his patch-ridden jacket before rolling up the cuffs of his blue jeans. He was left in a white cut-off t-shirt and his jeans.

Underwear was a big no-no to him.

He feet wiggled happily in the sand, and Marko licked his lips, getting a trace of blood he'd missed at the corner of his mouth. Marko stepped forward, the surf bubbling up over his toes. It felt cool on his feet; Marko had warmed up from the poor victim from earlier.

There was a splash from somewhere out in the ocean and Marko looked up curiously. He remembered the stories his mother would tell him when he was young, about mermaids that granted wishes, or had wishes granted, or mermaids who walked on land. They were a bunch of stupid stories, and he knew that now. Vampires were much more real, and his mother had never told him about that.

Still, he couldn't take his eyes off of the rolling waves. He traced one fang with his tongue, realizing that he was waiting to see a head pop out of the water, or see a tail splashing amongst the waves. Marko scoffed at himself, his wide eyed moving to look at his pale feet illuminated only by the moon.

Mermaids weren't real. But then again, vampires weren't supposed to be either. An internal war waged within Marko, imagination and longing fighting knowledge and reason.

He wasn't sure what to think, and he turned away from the ocean, making up his mind. Marko had done away with stupid things once he'd been turned. There was no reason to lapse now.

Small
191 words.
002: Middles.

When Marko got drunk off of blood, or alcohol, or high from a hippie, or just plain weed, he liked to think about the world. He could wax philosophic for hours to Paul or Dwayne or David. Usually one of them shut him up with their own mouths, and Marko was thoroughly distracted.

Even though he could be shut up, and only then would he spew out his thoughts as they came to him, as they jumped into his mind, Marko was always thinking. It might not have seemed like it, but Marko was smarter than he seemed. It was one of the reasons David chose him to be the first addition to their little family.

But when he really thought about it, when Marko got really down to thinking about his place in the entire world, in the universe, Marko realized how tiny his role was. How small Santa Carla was in the scheme of the world.

Another warm body to help him forget, blood rushing to his head from his mouth from someone's neck, another one of his brothers in bed, and Marko's thoughts were stopped. For the moment.

Tomatoes
94 words.
059: Food.

Marko hated tomatoes.

HATED them. They were squishy, and wet, and tasted pretty fuicking nasty. They were disgusting, and the texture was all weird in his mouth. Marko hated them even more since his mother had grown them in the backyard during the War. Since everyone was on rations, tomatoes were a new staple in his diet.

He hated them.

Now, hitchhiking across the lovely US of A, Marko stood outside a picketted-off garden. There were ripe tomatoes staring at him tauntingly. His eye twitched.

His hate could be delayed for a few minutes.

The Myriad of Ficlets

phraxus — Sun, 08 Jul 2012 00:36:26 GMT

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.

Five Marko Drabbles

phraxus — Sun, 08 Jul 2012 00:24:28 GMT

Title: Five More Drabbles
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.
Characters: Marko, David, Dwayne, and Paul; Star and Laddie; Michael, Max, and Lucy mentioned; The Frogg Brothers and Sam indirectly mentioned.
Prompt: 003, 041, 048, 065, 067.
Author's Notes: Reposted from my old journal, iheartchuu.

065. Passing
Rating: T.
Words: ~135.
Marko likes people watching; he's always done it, really, and he can't help the habit. He doesn't want to change, anyway. He likes people, and he likes seeing people. It's strange to describe. Marko will sit on the boardwalk and watch people clapping and dancing along with whatever band is playing, or he'll sit on the sand and watch couples giggling as they disappear into the darkness of the beach to make-out or have sex or whatever; he'll walk with the crowds, he'll flirt with cute girls and flirt with cute boys, he'll make small-talk with tourists out at night, and he'll do all of this without thinking of eating them in the end. Maybe it helps Marko feel a little more human at night, knowing that the world isn't just passing him by.

067. Snow
Rating: M.
Words: ~285.
Marko's never seen snow - he's lived in southern California for his entire life, and snow there happens every blue moon. When he told David, David's eyes had bulged out of their sockets. "What?" David asked, and Marko shrugged in embarrassment, hoping that David would forget about it.

Well, David had let it pass without hassling Marko, only some weird looks on his face for the next few days.

December rolls around and David tells Marko that he has a surprise. Marko, understandably, is skeptical of what the surprise is; this is David who, when courting Marko, had turned his Chinese into different bugs and Marko had gone running out of the hotel as fast as possible to throw up outside. His human constitution had sucked, but eating worms or maggots? Yeah, that was pretty fucked up.

What really happens is David flies Marko up north to Washington for the weekend. They stay in a hotel room, sleeping on the bed and not hanging from a ceiling for once, and come out at night. It doesn't snow that Friday, or that Saturday, and Marko's not sure why they flew up here and why David even spent any money on this at all, and David's feeling frustrated because it's not fucking snowing, but Sunday night the little flakes start to fall and layer the ground with a fine dust. Later, while Marko is giving David the most enthusiastic blowjob to date, the flakes start coming down even heavier. Marko wipes the back of his mouth while David recovers from the mind-blowing orgasm, looks out the window, and smiles this angelic smile, and David knows then that the hassle of setting everything up was worth it.

041. Shapes
Rating: E.
Words: ~150.
When Marko was little, he'd look up at the sky wherever he was, and if it was a nice day with spaces in the clouds, he'd try to pick out animals or sailboats or trains or hearts, any sort of object that the cloud could look like. It became a game with him as he'd been passed between homes like some sort of communal punching bag, moving from state to state - sometimes he'd run away and he'd spend days on nothing but dreams and hope. Rainy skies were his least favorite, probably right next to no clouds at all - he couldn't decide anymore.

It'd been years since he'd last seen clouds, but Marko still tries to pick out shapes and faces in clouds of smoke, or in the patterns on the walls of the cave, or in the sand or in whatever is around him. Old habits die hard.

003. Ends
Rating: T.
Words: ~230.
Marko thought that when he'd been turned by David, it would last that way forever. Well, change comes no matter what - and he learned that the hard way. Change when David wanted it to be more than just him and Marko, when he'd seen Paul sleeping under the boardwalk. Change when Paul fell hard for Dwayne, who'd been selling drugs to keep his shitty apartment. Change when they found the little kid, Laddie, bleeding by the ocean. Change when David met Star, and things really went to shit for Marko then. Star... Star didn't want to be a vampire, but she'd thought that maybe she did. Marko hated that, but kept his mouth shut. She was their demise in the end - attracting Michael, and Max's insistence on having Lucy for their "mother" really helped out at that.

Still, when Marko thought about death (really thought about it, not laughing it off because he didn't think it could happen to him) he never expected to be killed in his sleep in the middle of the day by three adolescent boys that didn't know what they were doing. But he hardly expected David to go after them the way he did, hissing and growling, because he'd been the first one to feel the break between them all. It was glorious to see him that way, and even through the agony, Marko died happy.

048. Diamond
Rating: E+.
Words: ~240.
Marko looks up at the sky at night to watch the stars, curled in his jean jacket covered in patches and buttons and chains and whatever else he can get his hands on. The stars sparkle like diamonds in the sky, and Marko wants to be like them. He knows that, theoretically, they're light years away and they could be dead by now but the light is still making its way to earth. They could be dead, but they've been giving off light for years longer than Marko can even comprehend. They're more eternal than diamonds, they're more eternal than vampires, they're more eternal than eternity. Until they eventually die.

Marko curls in on himself then, when he thinks about stars dying, losing their light. Sometimes they can go out with a huge bang, sometimes they just fail. The failing part is what Marko is afraid of. He hears someone dropping down next to him and knows immediately that it's one of his brothers; no one else could have been that quiet, quiet enough for him not to notice until the last moment. A quick glance tells him that it's Paul, and Marko leans his head on Paul's shoulder. Paul understands, sort of, or - well, at least, he knows that sometimes Marko gets into these moods and can't exactly snap out of it all the time. An arm curls around Marko's shoulders, tugs him closer, and Marko relaxes a little.

Ten Stories About Marko

phraxus — Sun, 08 Jul 2012 00:20:21 GMT

Fandom: The Lost Boys
Characters: Marko, David, Dwayne. Also Paul and Star; Laddie is mentioned once.
Prompt: 001, 021, 023, 027, 028, 071, 084, 087, 088, and 096; but not in that order.
Word Count: between 82 and 190 words per story; it varies.
Rating: T or less.
Author's Notes: Ten stories based off a prompt I picked up from renne after reading her stories for fanfic100 for Gerard/Frank. For my claim of Marko for drabbles100. Reposted from my old journal, iheartchuu.

01. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.
02. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle.
03. Write a ficlet related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the ficlet; you start when the song starts, and stop when it's over. No lingering afterwards!
04. Do ten of these, then post them.

1. Hometown // Bowling for Soup
82 words.
[028: Children.]

Marko never really ever had a "hometown". He was in twelve different homes since he was nine and his parents had died.

He never had a normal childhood, and his adolescent years were filled with rebellion and getting beaten down again and again. Sometimes Marko wished that he could have to deal with the bitchy girls in high school, or have a girlfriend, or have an older brother to beat kids up for him.

No, Marko's only "hometown" was Santa Carla, California.

2. 11:11 CST // The All-American Rejects
127 words.
[096: Writer's Choice.]

He closed his eyes, shutting out the view of the moon over the waves rolling in onto the beach of Santa Carla. He could hear the waves crashing, could smell the salty scent in the air, could feel the wind at his back.

Marko shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and made his wish. It might have been a little childish, but it was a tradition his mother had instilled in him since he was little and stayed up late with his parents. Hearing the little alarm go off on his new digital watch, Marko shut his eyes a little tighter and made his wish.

David.

And he appeared in all his bleach-blonde glory, right up against Marko's back, the scent of leather filling Marko's senses.

3. Because // Across the Universe Cast
82 words.
[001: Beginnings.]

In the early stages of their relationship, Marko was wooed.

David was sweet, was caring, was affectionate, held him at night until he fell asleep. David was perfect, was new. He blew Marko's mind.

Their love was... it seemed like maybe, just maybe, they were always supposed to be together.

But good things were never meant to last, and soon enough Marko was pushed aside in favor of Star, the new love of David's life.

Sometimes Marko cried himself to sleep. Sometimes.

4. Stiff Kittens // Blaqk Audio
130 words.
[084: Found.]

Marko never wanted to die. He never wanted to grow old. He never wanted to grow UP.

The Lost Boys was Peter Pan incarnate. His favorite movie.

The cave, the hotel, it was perfect to Marko. He was enraptured the first time David and Paul led him in, showed him around. His wide eyes peered around in wonder at the sanctuary that David and Paul had claimed for themselves, out from beneath the curtain of curly golden hair he had atop his head.

Maybe at one time Marko thought about getting a real job, thought about getting married and having kids running around. He doesn't remember exactly, not now, but everyone was supposed to think about that, right?

Maybe Marko was different. Maybe that's why David and Paul chose him.

5. Photograph // Nickelback
171 words.
[027: Parents.]

Licking his lips, Marko pulled out the little book he kept hidden on a tiny ledge in the cave. David didn't know about the book. Paul didn't know about the book. Dwayne, however, did. Dwayne was Marko's only ally in keeping a little bit of his humanity.

David was out, courting Star the way he'd courted Marko once.

Shaking away those thoughts, Marko hesitantly pulled out a stack of photographs from the hollow space in the book. There he was, in black and white, grainy quality, standing with his hand in his mother's. The next was him sitting on his father's lap, smiling a wide-eyed, tiny-toothed smile. His father was decked out in his navy garb. World War II.

Marko remembered how he wanted to grow up and be in the navy, wanted to be just like his father. He wanted to make his father proud.

The next, and final photo, was taken on his nineteenth birthday. He smiled fondly, looking into his own eyes filled with life. That was then.

6. A Piano String Es Dur // X Japan
87 words.
[087: Life.]

If his life was a movie, it might have been a tragedy. Marko wouldn't know; he was a movie-buff. He'd seen movies in the theaters, sure. Everyone had, but to say what kind of movie his life would take? He didn't know.

The background music would be, maybe, piano and violin, something simple but beautiful, and start out a little somber, but would swell into something even more beautiful, more hopeful, but still a little tainted: his meeting David. And when he turned, something broken, fragmented, sharp.

7. Ju Te Veux // Malice Mizer
190 words.
[088: He.]

Marko didn't know how to react when he first met David. David was something else. An enigma, really. Something new and foreign to everything Marko knew about life.

David had a gleam in his eye, something a little off, and maybe a little dangerous, and definitely cold. He was like the moon, and only came out at night. Marko knew; he lived under the boardwalk, taking refuge in the cold, wet sand at night until David found him.

David was an enigma, but his eyes burned Marko in the best way possible. Marko felt warm in a way he never had before, and when David pushed him down onto the bed at the cave for the first time, Marko swallowed thickly and just reached up to trace David's lips with his fingers, hand trembling a little.

David was powerful, was cold and alluring. Marko was always drawn to him, even when he was pushed away for another. Star.

Marko, sitting in one of the chairs in the lobby of the cave (as it were), swallowed thickly, and reached up with a trembling hand once again to trace his own lips.

8. Colorblind // Say Anything
142 words.
[021: Friends.]

Eye twitching, Marko kicked at a shell in the sand with his heavy boot, hands stuffed into his pockets. Dwayne was nearby, watching him but not saying a thing. Sniffling softly, Marko wiped at his face with his sleeve, glaring angrily out at the sea as if it was the sea's fault for his state of anger.

No, it was David. Again.

"I just... I move too slow, and I think too fast," Marko muttered, knowing Dwayne could hear him even if it wasn't loud. Dwayne's hearing was almost as good as Marko's; he'd been turned not long after Marko had.

He turned his head, looking over his shoulder at his friend, tears brimmed on his eyelashes, and Dwayne nodded knowingly, giving Marko a tiny smile and extending a hand. Marko looked for a long while, just staring, but approached soon after.

9. If Looks Could Kill // A Day to Remember
94 words.
[071: Broken.]

Marko looked at David blankly, his cheek stinging from the force of David's palm. Dwayne stood behind him, a silent pillar of strength and support for Marko, and Marko could see Star's shocked face over David's shoulder. Paul stood to the side, blinking owlishly.

Growling a little, David turned his back on Marko to deal with Star instead, calming the girl down. Marko blinked at David's back, something twisting his stomach into a knot. He turned as well, making his way out of the cave to sit down and stare out from the cliffs.

10. In This Diary // The Ataris
136 words.
[023: Lovers.]

Looking back on what had happened between David and himself, Marko could only smirk a little. They were fine now, of course. Star was between them still, but Star was nice to him. She wasn't a bitch, which made hating her hard.

But Dwayne... Dwayne was better for him anyway. He and Dwayne stayed out later than David and Paul and Star and Laddie, poking fun at people walking on the boardwalk. They would vandalize stores that kicked them out for no reason. They would play music on the loudest setting they could under the boardwalk. They'd drink cherry cokes on the beach, watching the waves rolling in.

And maybe they would kiss while the fireworks they'd set off in parking lots blew up in the sky, illuminating their faces in a mockery of the sun.</lj>

Master Table

phraxus — Sun, 08 Jul 2012 00:17:15 GMT

Fics for the drabbles100, my claim being Marko of the Lost Boys (movie).

001.	Beginnings	002.	Middles	003.	Ends	004.	First	005.	Last
006.	Hours	007.	Days	008.	Weeks	009.	Months	010.	Years
011.	Red	012.	Grey	013.	White	014.	Black	015.	Blue
016.	Purple	017.	Brown	018.	Green	019.	Pink	020.	Colourless
021.	Friends	022.	Enemies	023.	Lovers	024.	Family	025.	Strangers
026.	Teammates	027.	Parents	028.	Children	029.	Birth	030.	Death
031.	Sunrise	032.	Sunset	033.	Too Much	034.	Not Enough	035.	Sixth Sense
036.	Smell	037.	Sound	038.	Touch	039.	Taste	040.	Sight
041.	Shapes	042.	Triangle	043.	Square	044.	Circle	045.	Moon
046.	King	047.	Heart	048.	Diamond	049.	Queen	050.	Joker
051.	Water	052.	Fire	053.	Earth	054.	Air	055.	Spirit
056.	Breakfast	057.	Lunch	058.	Dinner	059.	Food	060.	Drink
061.	Winter	062.	Spring	063.	Summer	064.	Fall	065.	Passing
066.	Rain	067.	Snow	068.	Lightning	069.	Thunder	070.	Storm
071.	Broken	072.	Fixed	073.	Light	074.	Dark	075.	Shattered
076.	Rebirth	077.	Paralysis	078.	Disease	079.	Agony	080.	Healing
081.	Blind	082.	Deaf	083.	Lost	084.	Found	085.	Missing
086.	Choices	087.	Life	088.	He	089.	She	090.	It
091.	Birthday	092.	Christmas	093.	Thanksgiving	094.	Solstice	095.	New Year
096.	Writer‘s Choice	097.	Writer‘s Choice	098.	Writer's Choice	099.	Writer's Choice	100.	Writer's Choice

47/100 :: updated july 8, 2012.

public fiction.

phraxus — Fri, 05 Aug 2011 07:46:05 GMT

Ratings:

E - Everyone
T - Teens
M - 17+
XM - Explicit material.

Fiction:

Drabbles Challenge DRABBLES100 TABLE || The Lost Boys (Movie) - Marko.

Under 500 words or around 100 words for one hundred prompts.
The Pinch of the Game MASTERPOST || The Avengers (Movie) - Steve/Tony.

A series of moments that change Tony's life. (This is the result of my self-assigned one-thousand-word challenge; I write around a thousand words per prompt for one hundred prompts with the goal of tying them together.)