Special
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.
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.