Some David headcanons because he's the Lost Boy we all think about routinely:
He wears his gloves as a way to muffle his sense of touch and keep himself in check. He never shows how overwhelmed he can feel, part of this is because of the gloves.
He let's Marko fix his coat. David has had that thing forever and does not want to get rid of it, the inside is a rainbow of thread colors. Eventually it'll need professional restoration, but not now.
The boys don't need to eat human food, they just like to, and oddly David enjoys it the most. The boys aren't quite sure what his favorite is, they've slowly been guessing over the years and still haven't figured it out.
He and Dwayne are the oldest, of course, though David wouldn't tell any of them how long he was alone. He and Max were at odds for a long time because David didn't ask to be this, it was Max's weeping heart for a dying boy.
Out of the four, David's the most silently affectionate, and that's primarily with Dwayne. Dwayne understands David, and has been getting him to open up to Paul and Marko to close the gap between them. This has lead to David admitting odd things he can remember, even if he's teased for it.
In his past life, David was actually the youngest. He lost his entire family in one night, and damn near died tracking down the one who did it. This is what lead to Max feeding David his blood. David is fiercely protective of the boys now, he still hasn't told them why.
David is haunted by his failures and has frequent nightmares. He's got those sunken eyes for a reason.
He absolutely would never admit he enjoys being held after nightmares or during languishing, but it doesn't matter who's arms encircle him he will lean into them in silence. He has been sandwiched between the other 3 before while sleeping thanks to Marko starting it. It's the best he's slept in a century.
Dwayne headcanons because he's our mysterious creature that often gets forgotten about:
As quiet as he is, it's due to internal turmoil. He seems calm and collected, and in some cases he is, but usually it's his way of covering up the fact he's somewhat inept at interacting with others.
He actually very much enjoys rock music, he was sired before the genre came about, but he genuinely loves a dirty rhythm.
He walks about shirtless because it's both frustrating to feel the seams and it's one less item of clothing to bother washing.
Dwayne would be the first to fistfight his way into a shower when invited into a home. Much like Max stated in the movie, when a vampire is invited in a lot of protection methods become ineffective, Dwayne would bathe as soon as possible. Fuck he misses a good hot shower.
He takes good care of his hair, even outside of Marko's help. He can't stand the feeling of greasy hair, likely washes it out in a water basin with soap frequently.
He's the best smelling of all four boys, primarily he enjoys smelling of roses but also would go for cucumber or more woody scents. Again, likely uses a wash basin or old tub for a good scrub.
Dwayne rather enjoys listening to the radio, though doesn't often get time to do so as the cave has fantastic acoustics and the others don't always feel like having it on.
He has permanent tinnitus from an accident while human. While vampirism can keep them from gaining new wounds, it doesn't fix all the old ones, as a result Dwayne's hearing isn't perfect which is why he's always standing so close to the people he's talking to.
He has a rich, booming laugh that few get to hear but the smile that accompanies said laughter is brighter than the moon.
While Marko can wind down, Dwayne is often at baseline, when he can internally calm himself he can become wonderfully still for long periods.
He's often used as the communal pillow if the boys sleep on the ground, he's also a bit warmer than the others, not as warm as a human, but still.
While the others may purr, Dwayne rumbles, when finding good warmth the rumbling starts right up.
and here are the sleep deprived memories and notes that I wrote yesterday at the hostel:
Spoilers under the cut!
More Emerson's backstory: Emerson Dad was an abusive piece of crap
At the start, security guard's wife is looking for him, this will be important later
Sadly Grandpa is dead and cremated, there are jokes about it
No Nanook, but expected since the show has a bunch of explosions
A LOT of movie references, I don't remember them all
Deer bust reference, sadly they don't use it (yeah I got salty about that)
How old is Michael supposed to be? Sam is 14, Michael reads fresh out of school to me, Star feels like around the same age, and the boys (vampirism aside) feel around 18/22 in the musical specifically
OILED UP SAXOPHONE GUY APPEARANCE!!!!
Sam ogling the oiled sax player, we appreciate a queer awakening
Michael's angst outbursts compared to their dad's behavior (the scene where Sam says "sometimes you sound like him" gutted me). Being referred to "man of the house" from Max gave me the yucks, that's a barely an adult excuse me
Star is WAY MORE present and has more agency than the movie, I enjoyed her storyline. I really felt she appreciated what David and the boys offered her, but that's definitely not her world (her words)
Lucy is SO ADORABLE omg hi Mom!!!! I loved how she is really struggling but still trying her best to get her family in better footing and adjust to her kids changes
BISEXUAL LIGHTNING DURING I HAVE TO HAVE YOU!!!!
When the vampire band appears for the first time I swear I floated in my seat a little, so good
Also, pretty cool how they used the lights to show how both Star and David have interest on Michael during the song
I would join that cult (VAMPIRE ROCKSTARS??? Hell yeah)
Idk about some of the vampires personalities. I know we are working with crumbs from the movie, and my brain has some "fixed" headcanons, so I will leave that alone for now
THEY DID THE MOTORBIKE SCENE, and it was cheesy but SUPER COOL as well
Honestly I never saw anything like that stage, the way it changes and moves it's like a puzzle coming tougher and apart all at the same time, super fucking cool
The vampires feel definitely like predators sometimes, the way Star gets fixed on Michael sometimes is legit super scary
OMG Star pierced Michael's ear but had to run because of bloodlust - AND THEN DAVID GIVES MICHAEL AN EARRING "just so the hole doesn't closes up" uh-uh I know what you are David
Max is straight up robotic and inorganic, definitely feels like a centuries old vampire who is mimicking modern human behavior
His behavior criticizing Lucy's kids YUCK YUCK YUCK
He was really trying to infiltrate in that family, putting a good guy face and making Lucy feel slightly uncomfortable being by herself so that she would start to lean more and more on him (boss to husband pipeline)
Yeah Max, you're criticizing Lucy but you are a shit father
THE FROGS OH MY GOD (I felt motherly immediately upon their presence)
Alan transmasc rep
"The Frog Brothers?" "DID I STUTTER?" - Edgar, the biggest Alan supporter ever
Sam grossed out by Lucy's date/tour/walk and still helping her pick out shoes BABY
STOP dissing Marko's supposedly bad guitar player
SPEAKING OF GUITAR PLAYING, when David (probably) uses mind games to influence Mikey to play an acoustic guitar UGH GAY
I am still trying to figure out who Dwayne and Marko are, I felt like their personalities and looks weren't as iconic and distinguishable. I wish they kept more clear elements from each lost boy so it would be easier to differentiate between them from far away
Paul my beloved, forever my beloved my cutie pie my honeydew
The scene where Star and Michael stargaze and sing, you can notice the spotlights pointing to them look like a star, like they themselves shine through the night
Also, in the dark parts of the background there are some spotlights that look like stars, tiny detail that really got me
THEY FLY IT IS NOT A DRILL THE VAMPIRES FLY AND IT IS SUPER COOL
Also, David and the guys can stop time (excuse me, who in the production crew watched interview with the vampire?)
The Vampires Everywhere song was just too funny
Sam's superhero song was..... meeeeeh skip (no offense intended)
The poster promised me cowboy hat. Where. Is. The. Hat.
Again, the I missed the "one of us" chant during Michael's blood drinking
BUT we got creepy choir so I will forgive. They all look extremely predatory during that, you can cut the tension with a knife
Star craves the possibility of normalcy from Michael. She feels a sense of obligation to keep up with the vampires, but at the same time wants something else so bad. You can really see how she mourns when Michael goes into the cave beside her warnings
Michael craves the wilderness and rebellion from David. A lot of pent up anger and resentment make him crave the self destruction brought by the vampires
They killed Markooooo, they decimated my guy (hell yeah Edgar)
WHEN ITS SUNRISE AND THEY ONLY TURN THE LIGHTS ON THE TOP SHOWING THEY ARE UNDERGROUND so cool
The effects for each vampire's death is literally so cool and realistic, I love theater magic
Sam "Pansy with a crossbow" Emerson
DEATH BY STEREO (cue explosions)
No antler head in the final fight BUT
STAR AND MICHAEL END DAVID TOGETHER (good job team - and then they were boyfriendless)
Max shows up his true colors, forces Lucy to join him and SHE ENDS HIM
HELL YEAH LUCY END HIM (with a family wooden cross, grandpa helping to save the day through objects on set)
All is well all is good it ends all is cute
BUT Security guy's wife finds the underground factory and drinks the bloody wine BOOM END
Honestly, it was great, 8/10. Some stumbles on characterization but that might be me being hard headed. The set was amazing, effects were delightful to see and felt super organic. I snoozed a bit through some of Lucy's and Sam's songs (another me problem, probably). Overall super cool and definitely worth watching, would go again if I have the time and money to spare
Merch was pricey but if you order a drink you get a super cool cup for like ten bucks!
And it sucks because if I was terrified of having my work scraped and stolen by other humans, now I have to worry about it being scraped and stolen to feed AI.
I feel two feelings right now:
- making and posting my art out there is worthless and I don't want my content being possibly used to feed AI.
- making and posting my art out there is worth it because it's a form os resisting against AI.
I am walking a fine line holding a balancing stick holding the two sides.
Anyway, how to protect my art if I choose to publish it?
A/N: late night writing took over me. Who cares if this is good? You know what this is? Self indulgent! I love pie, I love Dean, I want to make him pie and make him happy. Gender neutral, only one suggestive comment, non proofread. Probably out of character, last time I watched supernatural was in....... I don't know, leviathan season.
You owned a local family bakery attached to a commercial center, being neighbors with the gas station and the little musty "Sleepn'go!" hotel, you had a constant stream of (mostly) good customers. Regulars were a rarity in the "middle of nowhere" Kansas, but you enjoyed it anyway.
Especially when your favorite customer stopped by. A sight for sore eyes, he was. Broad, stylish and with that wicked smile that he always threw around with a flirty joke or two. It's been a few months that he and his brother started to hang around more often, sometimes with a stern faced man or a chaotic redhead. You appreciated them deeply, it was good to see some new faces around the area. Young, handsome and seemingly interested faces.
Dean, was his name. He slipped his name and number on a napkin for you when you met, but when you called, the number was from someone from California. You assumed he didn't really want to give his number, otherwise he would've given you his actual real number. You brushed it off. It was mean, but he was a regular now, and as none of you made effort to remedy the situation, you decided to swallow your embarrassment and let it go.
Especially because apparently now he and his family were living nearby. And he bought a pie a week whenever he wasn't traveling for work. Good loyal customer.
You set a batch of apple pies in your industrial oven, getting ready for the thanksgiving frenzy. Even here, thanksgiving managed to become crazy with orders. Hearing the front door ring, you moved to the bar to greet the customers.
Dean waited leaning against the bar, inspecting the fall specials. He always ordered the same: a black coffee with two espresso shots and a piece of pie. And for his brother, usually a to-go matcha latte with oat milk.
He was chatting up with Sally, your barista, when he landed his eyes on you. God, you must be a disaster, because he gave you a weird look, wide eyes up and down and up again. Then quipped:
"Mornin' sunshine, miss me?"
"You disappeared for almost a month! Was almost putting your name on the lost and kidnapped!" You breathed out and dusted your hands on your floured apron "came in for your morning special?"
He moved to sit in the bar stool closer to you. Sally rolled her eyes and placed his drink in front of him, then gave you a look. Ever since the phone number incident, she took a dislike to him, BUT, along with Dean sometimes Charlie appeared, so... you know.
"I trust your judgment today" he took a sip of the coffee "also want to order ahead for next week"
"Ooooh! Spending thanksgiving home? Have family coming?" You took out your notepad and twirled a pen, clicking it open.
"My first time being the dinner's host, gotta impress them all" Dean muttered and eyed your hands playing with the pen, you noticed a kinda glazed look on his eyes, although it was as fleeting as the wind "I have around 15 people coming over, so I need dessert to cover for that and!" He leaned in "to keep me happy in the next days or so, if you close shop for the holiday"
You chuckled "I won't close shop for the holiday. You can come get it in person if you'd like" GOD that sounded weird "I think three pies would be enough to cover, what flavors would you like?"
He couldn't hide the smirk forming on the sides of his stupid face, and he would quip something back about definitely coming around on thanksgiving day, but he also could see your nervousness about it "I trust your instincts. Whatever you make, I know it will be good"
Thankful for being spared from your shame, you wrote his order, glueing it to the order board. Then, cut a piece of Seasonal Special and handed it to him.
"I have to go back to the kitchen, there's a hundred and twenty three pies waiting to be baked. You can stop by to pick up your order next week monday, okay?" You put the notepad and pen back inside the apron and started to move back to the swing doors "see you soon! Don't disappear!"
He muttered something, but his mouth was kinda full of pie, so you didn't understand.
By his side, Sally, your barista, rolled her eyes for the twentieth time that morning. Dean brushed it off as "angsty teenager" behavior and enjoyed his pie baked by his favorite baker.
A/N: non sexual, reader is described as "nanny" yet no other gendered descriptors mentioned. Brahms being nice. Didn't proofread. Use of "-" because I like the dash. Fuck AI.
The nanny's dry cough could be heard through the walls, as they held on the handkerchief like her life depended on it, they were delirious, walking the manor as a ghostly shadow much like himself did sometimes.
They were sick, he was sure of it. Brahms heard of consumption tales from his mother, he remembered the symptoms, and one of them was a delirious fever, coughing and her sickly pale complexion, the same symptoms that took away his grandma decades ago.
His caretaker wore their day clothes and tried hard to follow the routine, only to pass out from exhaustion in the living room couch. The book they held lost on the ground, it's fancy cover facing the ceiling, and the doll laying comfortable in their lap, as if they both were taking a nap.
Brahms didn't know what he should do. It has been a long time since he got sick, and his parents never were much caring in the rare moments it happened. Ironically, usually his nannies did the job of coddling and nursing him to full health again. When he watched the nanny the whole evening, waiting for them to wake up and do something themselves.
But as the clock hit five and nothing happened, he realized he needed to do something.
Brahms faced his options:
Call a doctor? No, that would draw too much attention and could get him discovered. Besides, he didn't know many good doctors to call.
Call the delivery boy? He could call a doctor, but that probably required removing the nanny from the Heelshire's estate and as much as he wanted the nanny alive, Brahms didn't have the courage to be alone. What if they never returned?
Trying to take care of them? It could work, or he could be so bad at it that he might end up killing them accidentally and end up all alone once and for all.
He was smart enough to not let the nanny die. So he opened the painting frame door to the living room and with much reluctance, he walked to the couch to make a closer assessment. His hands trembled as he touched the nanny's forehead and felt a mild fever taking place, their forehead covered in sweating and - thank god - breathing normally.
He admired their sleeping form for a quick minute that felt like hours, and took the doll from their grasp, putting it sitting politely in the armchair, book now in hand, candid porcelain stare. He fussed and thought about what to do. Recycling old memories from his brief normal childhood, three words came to his mind: food, rest, bath.
Not being used to taking care of living - much less sick - creatures was hitting hard on him. The break in the routine made him slightly irritated and as he rushed to the kitchen and put some frozen chicken broth in the microwave, he thought to himself how the hell the nanny got sick. There's nobody here to get sickness from, and they follow his family cookbook recipes so he knows the food is good quality. It's true that it's getting colder each week as winter approaches, and nobody is allowed to use the fireplaces, so the house is quite cold, and he saw the nanny walking around in the garden wearing only light clothes out of laziness to put on something warmer.
Dumb Nanny. He would be such a brat once they felt better, just to piss them off. It was too much work, and he is a whiny bitch.
The Nanny could take a bath later. He decided as he pulled them up. His caretaker mumbling bullshit in their semi-sleep as they ascended to their bedroom. Brahms never cursed someone so much in his entire life.
{The Nanny's point of view}
You were being taken upstairs. Your mind was all messed up, groggy and with the worst headache you had in your life. Looking at your helping hand, you couldn't identify your saviour, this person didn't smell like Malcolm, because Malcolm wears that woody cologne and this person smelled different.
Like the same citric fabric softener available in the manor, dust and slight body odor that you could describe as musky. It was rather comforting to feel it around you as this person hauled you upstairs while your legs buckled under your feet. You opened your eyes and whined as you two went up another row of stairs.
You turned to face him and didn't know if you were feverish enough to be seeing weird things or there was an actual guy wearing Brahms face as a mask.
There was no time to think too much as he politely kicked your bedroom door open and plopped you on your bed, threw a comforter atop of you and rummaged through your clothes, only for you to blink and there was nothing in the room except for a box of pills labeled "tylenol: pain and fever" and a cup of water. Which you drank purposefully, rolling to the other side and falling asleep again. Not realizing the burning stare from the semi open door.
A/N: gender neutral, reader is an Hermes devotee, set whenever. Fuck, I never finished this series, I miss Chance P, why did you have to go so soon? Anyway... I wanted to write something very fleshed out and actually planned but fuck me, I don't have the energy for that. Nothing too sexual, but suggestive. I love Caitlin Doughty. Not proofread, mentions of death, decay and very slight gore.
You moved to Greendale to establish your family business: a complete funeral home with a death positive approach towards mourning and death care.
Why Greendale? Your patron deity Hermes guided you there. That was the place you were supposed to be, as his devotee, your job was to guide lost and afraid souls to their journeys to their respective underworlds.
You had strong ties to the psychopomps, the little creatures who followed those brave enough to astral project. Four cardinals would always accompany you wherever you went, physically or astrally.
That's how you met Ambrose.
He was tasked to snoop into your business per Aunt Zelda's request and the birds warned you about the "handsome intruder" in your morgue.
She was suspicious of you after the whole Pagan mess from the past year, and wanted to make sure you were not a risk to her coven.
You laughed it off when the birds kept pestering him and told him that he could come in person, that you didn't bite. With a swish of your hand, he was back to his body, safe and sound.
Gods he was whipped. He promised himself that he wouldn't fall in love so soon after Prudence left him, that he was enjoying being single, but by the Dark Mother you were a CATCH.
He appeared in your office's door the next day, a dried flowers bouquet and a basket of muffins made for you, and you ushered him inside.
You were like soft moon glow on a bright night, he loved everything about you almost immediately. You invited him for a meeting with your colleagues under other death related deities, and your shared work in bringing a lighter feeling around death rituals.
He was fascinated while walking your facility, seeing the different approach you took in your work, and impulsively insisted on working in a partnership with you.
When shit started to hit the fan with the cosmic horrors, he would find himself closer and closer to your house and office, telling you all about the chaos bubbling just everywhere.
You two shared your first kiss after a long night fighting off the darkness, when you got home with him, both tired and exhausted. You joined in the efforts of his coven, and defeated the first cosmic horror.
You pushed the door open to your shop, the little bell ringing as you and Ambrose stepped inside, the fire rushing to life with a flick of his wand. He moved like he belonged there, plopping down the couch and groaning, wiping his face with both hands. You turned the water kettle on and sat next to him, enjoying the warmth of the flickering orange flames and the woodsy sandalwood smell emanating from him.
"Lord Hermes please bless me, so that if anyone died, they may be found tomorrow past noon" you muttered and the birds fluttered around your head "I know I know, it's a joke, don't come at me"
They seamed please and flied to their little resting spot, the two cardinal couples snuggling into the two nests. Ambrose turned his beautiful face to you and his stare didn't burn, but was just as warm as the fire.
"Everybody else gets to rest, but we may wake up tomorrow and clean up the deceased" he sighed "should I head home?"
Turning your face to him, you stared into his eyes. His eyes were so pretty, it was unfair for him to have such soft and lovely features. You let them wander, to his nose bridge, cheeks, and his mouth. He licked his lips.
"Stay" it was almost a whisper "Please" was all you could muster before wetting your lips yourself. He searched your eyes for permission and when he found your welcoming gaze, Ambrose pulled you to him, kissing you earnestly as you pulled on his leather jacket. Groaning as he brought you to straddle his thighs.
He smelled like sandalwood, books, leather and that sweet smell of embalming fluids cherry that always clung to your nose. Maybe it was a part of him as much as it was a part of you, per your duties as death's henchmen.
Foreheads connected, you two breathed in each other's bodies, basking into your souls as you two shared another kiss, less hurried, more sentimental.
"I need you" he muttered between pecks on your face "Needed you since the day we met and you were hands deep into Mr. Wallace"
A breathy chuckle left your mouth "when you saw me, I poked his spleen wrong and blood splattered in my goggles, Gods it was so gross!" you hid your face in his neck and smelled deep "I longed for someone like for so long... and now that I have you..."
Ambrose brought your face back to look at him "and now that you have me...?"
You had a loopy smile, and were feeling the exhaustion really settle in, pains everywhere, eyes drooping from sleep deprivation "I want you, but right now I really want to sleep"
He chuckled, hugged you tightly and muttered a teleportation spell, and in a blink you two were in your bedroom upstairs. You sat on the edge of your bed as he pulled your shoes and left beside his, along with your jackets. Ambrose removed any jewelry he could find and was removable, and laid beside you.
Tomorrow was another day, with another day, another chaotic mess to solve. But for now, you could be tangled up and listening to his soft snores as you fell asleep.
Idk who needs to hear this but bisexuality includes trans people. Not "it can" include trans people or it "sometimes" includes trans people. It does. It always has. Any bisexual who says there's doesn't is just a transphobe and doesn't fucking represent what we're about.
