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theyre-maggots-michael · 6 months ago

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random lost boys headcanons that i constantly think about!!

pairing(s): none!

warning(s): mentions of weed, religion, paul being a dirty little shit when it comes down to magazines

(here’s some random headcanons no one asked for but i literally think about these all the time and can’t get them out of my head. and yes, i know some bands and music artists mentioned in this were in their prime after the lost boys was set. but fuck it there’s no need to put dates on things when it’s all just for the sake of fictional writing. ALSO BONUS POINTS TO ANYONE WHO GETS THE OG BRANDON ROGERS REFERENCE IN THIS)

gifs not mine!! (if you know the original owner please tag them!!)

DAVID

• This man smokes like ten packs of cigarettes per day.

Think of a mukbang video but instead it’s just David smoking a shit ton of cigarettes packs.

Max has came to the conclusion that if David were not a vampire, he would in fact be a cancer patient.

• Him bullying someone is just his poor attempts at flirting.

• Makes multiple attempts at destroying Christmas decorations in every store he goes to during winter. When an employee looks in his direction upon hearing the crashing sound of tree baubles, he stares at them with that icy glare, looking personally offended that the employee is giving him the “Did you just do that..” look.

He’s a dumb shit that couldn’t care less what anyone else sees him doing. The employee could literally catch him smacking a glittery bauble off their mini Christmas tree with the back of his hand and he’ll glance over at them, blinking repeatedly.

“It was an accident.”

He’ll even turn to his mind control, allowing the employee to believe it was either Paul or Marko. It usually ends up being Marko, and he’s standing there biting the cuff of his jacket whilst getting the shittiest lecture from the store manager. Turns out poor Marko actually loves the place’s Christmas decorations.. despite being a bloodsucker that should resent anything to do with Christ. He just likes sparkly things.. ☹️

• David is so blunt to anyone who calls him self centred. He ain’t phased in the slightest bit by it. Marko’s said it on multiple occasions after an argument broke out between them all in the cave, and everyone was throwing digs. But the boys know David’s the most brutally honest being they’ve ever encountered.

“Who else am I supposed to be centred on?”

• He’s always dreamed of owning a black cat named Salem, but he knows the cat either won’t take to him being a vampire or the boys might accidentally forget it’s around and do something stupid.

(He really just wants one to sit on his lap whilst he’s in his wheelchair acting like Don fucking Corleone)

• Went through an identity crisis and forced himself to try and look like Billy Idol for a week. (That week turned into years)

• Dwayne’s still trying to convince him that bleaching his hair was a bad decision after a clump of it FELL OUT.

• If there’s ever a child crying on the boardwalk, David’s usually the reason they’re crying.

PAUL

• Is always the “C’mon everybody!!” person at the function. Yet when he runs off excitedly, no one follows.

• Never knows what to do in a chaotic situation because he’s that used to BEING the chaos.

• Cannot sit still for shit. He has to be fiddling with something or bouncing around the place like the madman he is.

• Paul’s a ride or die Mötley Crüe fan. He’s even lured some chicks on the boardwalk by playing Mötley on his boombox for them, feeding afterwards of course. (He’s the sneakiest little shit you’ll ever meet)

If he ever met a girl whom he fell for and eventually turned, his ideal date idea would be going on his motorcycle in the moonlit night and blasting “Kickstart My Heart” with his new partner riding along with him. He’s dreamt of it for years.

(Marko’s bound to third wheel though duh)

• He’s also got a thing for Alice In Chains, and he’s spent many drunk nights screaming the lyrics to “Bleed The Freak” outside the cave whilst meanwhile inside the boys sit in silence and are forced to listen to him.

• Paul barely sees girls with lip piercings but when he does holy fuck.

Just any kind of person who can pull off facial piercings is magical to him. Whether it be a few or a lot, he’s mesmerised by whatever kind of metal is in your face.

• Says “Pspsps..” to every kitty he sees on the boardwalk then screams the biggest “FUCK YOU!” if he witnesses the cat either pad over to someone else or look at him and run away.

• He’s always got a fucking rootbeer in his hand when he’s in the cave with the boys. Aside from blood, him and Marko live off of rootbeer. Ice. Cold. Rootbeer.

• Cherry Pie by Warrant is this man’s national anthem.

• Continuously has to find new weed dealers because if he has a bad argument with one of the boys, they’ll purposely hunt down his current dealer and drain every drop of blood from their body. This causes Paul to go apeshit because when he’s not out looking for prey or pissing people off on the boardwalk, you can bet his ass is in the cave stoned.

• On the topic of his severe weed habit, he’s not much of an edibles guy. He’d rather be sat on his ass smoking the fattest joint of his immortal existence and enjoying every minute of it. He’s occasionally gotten edibles for Marko, but Marko and gummies do not mix after the Frog Brothers started creeping around again.

• Has the biggest Playboy magazine stash that he hides underneath a pile of old denim and leather jackets in the cave. No one apart from Marko knows about them. Plus they’ve always been for.. special.. occasions..

Marko can’t help himself though and starts singing “In The Heat Of The Night” by Sandra when anyone innocently mentions magazines around Paul. This causes Paul to send his boot into Marko’s stomach whenever the boys are all assing around on the bridge, and he’s the first to fall.

“….. I’m telling David about your WET DREAMSSSSS.” Marko usually screams before disappearing into the fog below.

• Him and Marko don’t celebrate holidays unless it’s Halloween or Easter. They don’t give a fuck about the religious part when it comes down to Easter though. And if they wanted to, they couldn’t. They’re just there for the chocolate. They miss the taste of it. Paul will literally start fighting children during an Easter egg hunt on the boardwalk so he can get more for himself and Laddie.

(God help the children who push Laddie out of the way)

MARKO

• Goes into Claire’s Accessories and proceeds to tell the child who’s about to get their ears pierced how bad it should hurt.

(Also steals drip for himself because hello yes he does indeed fw a Sanrio earring set)

• He’s always the one who’ll make the most guttural moaning sounds if you’re on the phone to someone.

• Him and Paul are always found in the naughty section of Max’s video store.

• Whenever a fight breaks out on the boardwalk (that isn’t started by David or Paul for once) he doesn’t know what the fuck to do so he just starts screaming.

• Whenever one of the boys is hurt or sick (yes vampires get sick), Marko’s always the one who tends to them. He’s a massive over-thinker. David came down with something one time, and it was bad. Real bad. It was extremely rare, but it hit David like a freight train. Marko thought he walked in and found him in a state where he’d never wake up, so Max and the boys were left to deal with him bawling for the rest of the evening. Even David was confused when he awoke from his slumber.

• He has a bat plushie named Boris that Paul stole for him years ago. He gets caught chewing on the wings a lot but all in all he loves his Boris.

• Paul once traveled to LA and took him to one of those haunted house events for Halloween. They got kicked out and almost left their motorcycles because Marko starting punching multiple actors. It ended up in this big ass arguement because Paul swore for a moment he saw a glimpse of Marko’s fangs in the light and his eyes momentarily changed.

• The pigeons that flap around in the cave are like his pets. He’s down for just chilling with them and petting them if they let him.

Marko lowkey loves animals.

• He likes embracing his golden, curly locks. Aside from his fashion sense, he thinks his curls are really what gives him his image. He isn’t vain, but he does truly adore his little curls.

• Marko has such a soft spot for trad goths and their way of dressing. Whenever he sees one on the boardwalk, (which he hopes he will), he’s always fascinated by whatever outfit they have on. If they walk past him and the boys, he offers a shy smile. He wishes he could go start a conversation with them, but he thinks it’d be pretty dumb considering what his.. needs are. He doesn’t wanna kill people he thinks are cool.

DWAYNE

• Has the og resting bitch face.

• He wishes he could just stay silent and wonders why it’s not enough to just show up somewhere and have giant eyes.

• Dwayne used to get so many random people come up to him on the boardwalk and tell him how good he’d suit a black or brown eyeliner.

Since that day Dwayne has never forgotten those people and he always wears eyeliner inside and outside the cave.

• Major black coffee addict despite not even needing it.

• Whenever the likes of Paul and Marko actually try to engage in activities whilst on the boardwalk, some female will waltz up to Dwayne. Their approach and characteristics through their energy will allow him to of course decide what his next move is, but if it’s some yappy person who clearly has a horrible energy, Dwayne can be just as blunt as David is.

“How can I get to know you?”

…

“I don’t want to be known.”

And then he’ll walk away.

• This man is dedicated to leopard print. DEDICATED. In his mind him and the boys are living in some lavish mansion in 70s LA with leopard print plush sofas, leopard print pillows, leopard print bed sheets, literally everything leopard print.

If he had free rein to design the places he wanted to, he’d be ecstatic. (Literally all he wants is to turn Max’s house into a leopard print and cherry red museum.)

• When Dwayne actually smiles around people, it’s the sort of smile that can heal a thousand wounds. Like him coming out of his shell is the sweetest thing to witness.

• If the boys are off irritating the fuck out of people on the boardwalk instead of trying to find a good feed, Dwayne will occasionally sneak away and visit any sort of music store he can find. He could sit and yap to the people in there for days, and that’s really where he feels the most comfy around strangers. He loves talking to others about bands and artists like Judas Priest, Type O Negative, Rob Zombie, Pantera, Sisters of Mercy, Monster Magnet and Rammstein.

• The film The Crow ended up having a really special place in Dwayne’s heart. He loves playing little bits and pieces on his guitar for Laddie from Graeme Revell’s music from the soundtrack.

HII! if you have any lost boys requests send them in!! as you can tell, i really enjoy writing for all of them!! (i’ll write for honestly any lost boys character atp) <33

#oooo these are really good!

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theyre-maggots-michael · 1 year ago

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Dear Fellow Traveler

There are other vampires in the world, and the world itself is a big, big place. David takes a little trip.

Sooo......this is an odd one. Basically so far outside of Lost Boys canon it almost isn't anymore, but it's also a small look into some vampire worldbuilding Berd and I have done. David knows people outside of his pack, and they know him. (They certainly know Max, and that's not a good thing.)

Anyway, here you go. Enjoy?

It's not hard to find what you're looking for if you know what to look for.

David meanders down the streets of a late-night San Jose. The place hadn't changed too much since his last visit, a couple years ago. Marko and Paul hadn't been wrong - it was a city of many people, from all over. Most of California seemed like that.

San Jose was not Santa Carla, however. Few places were, David would give it that. Further inland, the air didn't hold salt and brine anymore, wasn't thick with humidity that gripped the scent of whatever organic life passed through it.

The blood here was of a different kind. Smeared on concrete thick with grit and dust. In the ash of smoke from things rolled into cigarettes that even Paul likely hadn't had the time to try all of.

David follows it. It makes no attempts to hide itself.

Humans couldn't smell it, after all.

It takes him past downtown - predictably. Hunting grounds for those with the charm, the grace to stalk the nightclub and bar, and for those without, plenty of pickings in the back alleys and unfortunates sleeping on park benches and bus routes. But one never mixed supper with sleep, and David veered off that path, following the one laid out. He glances up, to the side of a bricked up building. There were less businesses here, tucked away in second-story lofts and between condemned flats. He finds what he expects to see:

A tag, small enough to not draw the eye, in faded brown, sealed below disguising black paint. A calaveras, its grinning teeth showing points at the canines, and the moon in pretty, decorated swirls at its bone forehead.

He'd been following the trail for the last hour. The blood was getting fresher.

The streets are darker out here. Less cars, and those that do pass him are beaters at best. Spaces between buildings are trash heaps, massive junk piles. Sometimes, he thinks he sees something darting out of view when he looks up to the glassless windows of a building. Senses a shift in the air as he passes along a certain way, avoiding the scattered streetlights.

Finally, he comes to a stop.

A warehouse, utterly dilapidated, stretching along before a huge chunk of abandoned manufacturing factory property. Surrounded on all sides by the rusting, decaying waste of metal, the exoskeleton of a once-great beast twisted and scattered to and fro. The back end of it even caving in - but.

If one looked, one could see details in the dark. If one could see in the dark.

Certain places in the roof, patched over with welded bits of sheet metal. Open spaces in the sides, to same. Holes stoppered up. David himself stood before a door to an entryway that used to lead to offices inside, or at least a coatroom of sorts - but the door wasn't just barred with lock and key, no. The hinges had been welded shut to match the patched holes in the roof. To the side, little windows, and behind them nothing but a wall of cinderblocks. One couldn't force their way inside if they tried.

Etched into the glass of one of those windows, another little sugar skull design. Sharp teeth. Moon at its forehead.

"It hasn't been that long, Williams. Can't have forgotten where the front door is."

David smiles, and it's sharp.

"No, it hasn't, and no, I haven't. I was just waiting for a proper welcome, is all."

David doesn't know their real name.

Vampires who headed clan hubs rarely needed them, or kept them for long after they took the position.

The vampire who greeted him outside was shorter than David, thinner shoulders, smaller over all, but their face hard set. Copper skin warm even in the darkness, their crow black hair cut short up the back, held in a wolftail with a leather cord.

The leather wasn't animal.

Their clothing was a little more familiar style - not quite the wild fancies of the Boardwalks and the coast with its warm winds and wiles, but something that seemed to fade into the mechanical park above them. Faded denim jacket, bleached into curling, skeletal markings. Lines of fine beadwork amid the torn jeans and hole-riddled long sleeve shirt. Thick boots that had seen more wear and repairs than any sane person would think to use to keep them in working order.

Some of that leather wasn't animal either.

They had brought David down in a new way. A way David, in truth, didn't know. He'd been correct in saying that he'd known the literal doors to the building weren't the way inside, but apparently the real entrance had moved since last he'd come to San Jose. Just before the entrance to the warehouse wasteland, there was a small, unassuming grate laid into the foundations of what would have been a runnoff channel. It came out with only a small application of superhuman strength, and the pair had slipped down - guests first.

The crawl space of a concrete pipe had turned into a constructed tunnel, leading to a basement room where they came up through the floor. Into the clan grounds proper.

David had asked about that, as they climbed the stairs up to the main level, the floor of the half-collapsed warehouse - an aesthetic choice, or a necessity?

"Just young idiots, making noise," the Clan Vamp said.

"Bad enough to warrant a doorman?" David had asked with a raised eyebrow.

The Clan Vamp's smile is thin. "Enough to know you were here when you crossed city limits.

Well, shit.

"This place really has gone to the dogs," David tuts.

"Was it ever anywhere else?"

They exchange smiles - with teeth. Not full teeth, for David's words were not said with malice, and the reply not given in offense. But a flash of fangs to let the other know a boundary had been met. Eye to eye.

They finish climbing the steps from the basement level, and step out into the clan grounds.

In the center of the huge, open space, three fires in low bins flickered. Enough to cast long, dark shadows on the tall walls stretching high above. All around, curtains hung from rafters, some still in their original place, and others torn down and twisted about to form more private quarters. Strings of fairy lights wound through it all, here and there, in mismatched areas of pillows and mattresses, true nests. Further back, in the darker corners, hung bodies, close together or further apart. Those who preferred to roost rather than sleep flat.

Around the fires, similarly were a few groups of couches and chairs and lounges, scattered messes of more places to lay and sit.

And people were sitting. Voices filtered through the air now, shifting like the firelight. Low tones, among groups of twos and threes, occasionally someone taking off to roost in the rafters, or return to the privacy of a nest. Snatches of music came and went, as someone somewhere in the mess tuned a radio.

David takes it all in.

"Is the party over?" He asks the Clan Vamp, nodding at the...somewhat quiet night. He remembers what it was like the last time he came.

They glance at him, a long look full of many emotions, before walking forward, David in tow.

"Sure. Since el caballo de caza decided to come around."

David braces himself.

"How many lost?" He asks quietly.

The Clan Vamp didn't answer right away. They come to a couch, low slung in the age of its use, and they sit themselves down, sinking into a corner of it with familiar ease. They gesture for David to take the opposite end, and he does. Above their heads, in the rafters, the radio is finally tuned, and something slow, melodic and heavy in the bass guitar plays.

The firelight dances across the Clan Vamp's features as they reach into their pockets, pulling out a paper carton. They take two hand-rolled cigarettes, and light one in the flame of the bin fire. They use that to light the other. They hand one to David, who takes it, and draws.

It's not fully tobacco, and David recognizes the taste of familiar drugs, and something unique he's not likely to find anywhere else.

It's a few long minutes of silence, between them. Enjoying the smoke, the amiable air.

Finally, with a flick of a finger to rid the tip of the fag of ash where it puddles on the concrete floor, the Clan Vamp speaks.

"Three packs gone, all come here from Reno. One because they both wanted the same hunting ground, wouldn't listen to negotiation. Other two because the fighting drew line of fire from Hunters."

Loud, young idiots indeed.

The Clan Vamp's unoccupied fingers drum a steady beat on their own thigh. They lick their teeth.

"Lost a childe."

David blinks.

He looks to them. Their dark eyes weren't on him, or the rest of the clan grounds. Rather, they'd focused on the fire, almost transfixed. Their mind elsewhere. Distant.

"Shit," he says flatly.

"No one you knew," they say with a shrug.

David takes another draw of smoke, holding it, letting it curl through him. Watching his own long exhale billow upwards into the dark ceiling. A pair of bodies flitted through the space, unnaturally fast, unnaturally quiet. The pair of vampires above giggling to themselves as they moved about. David's eyes came back down.

As if the knowing mattered.

David thinks about Paul, staying back with Marko, despite the two of them knowing he was going tonight. Wanting to come. Knowing they couldn't.

He thinks about them being here, if...something happened.

"You gonna stay long?" They ask him at length.

David's mouth twists into a grimace he can't quite pass off as a smile.

"Daddy would get worried," he answers.

The Clan Vamp barks a laugh, low and humorless. "Damn. Thought you might'a come out here to tell me some good news, Williams."

"Nope," David drawls, popping the 'p'. "Same as it always was. He's opened a fucking business."

"No kidding."

"Mm. Actual, legitimate thing. Videos and TVs and all that junk. Makes a killing, apparently."

Another laugh between them, only a little bit lighter.

"How long you think he's got?" The Clan Vamp asks, sucking down the last of their cigarette.