#berd words

Okay so. @thinkblotted stole mine because we share everything, even headcanons lmao, but worry not! I have multiples. My craziest/most unfounded opinion is actually that The Frog Brothers are functionally orphans and that they live alone and mostly unattended.

CW: Use of the slur Queer in a positive/joking context

David is sulking. 

It’s not hard for Dwayne to tell, seeing as they’ve been together for well over a decade at this point. It’s subtle, but it’s there. The set to his jaw, the restless taptaptap of his foot against the wood floor. He’s annoyed at something and taking it personally.

Dwayne slides into the seat next to him, gently tapping him in the bond. David’s head snaps up, eyes locking with his.

“Hey,” Dwayne says softly. “Something’s eating you. Tell me?”

“It’s stupid.” David grumbles.

“Try me.”

Hiii! Sorry this took so long, Life caught me and shoved me in a locker. Hope you enjoy this!

CW: discussions of body horror and David being generally uncanny.

Michael's always known there was something wrong with him. He's been wrong since the day he was born, stuck in a body that didn't fit, and desperate to find something he couldn't put a name to. Other people realized too. He never had friends. Everyone kept their distance from him, even his Mom and brother seemed unnerved when he was nearby. That's why it's so easy to spot the person staring at him.

The Santa Carla night is frigid cold, even in the dead of summer when the sun is valiantly trying to bake the earth dry. But Michael grew up in the desert, He knows the temperamental nature of the winds. It's almost a relief, actually, as he sits on the edge of the pier, his sneakers dangling over the black water. This far out, he can almost see the stars. And feel the eyes on his back. They followed him out here.

"Nice night for a walk," He calls. The presence behind him freezes, caught out.

"You heard me." The voice is difficult to place, impossible to tell if it's male or female. It almost... shimmers, in the air. Michael can feel the way his mind has to strain to hold it all. He shrugs.

"Felt you. I have a knack for noticing people who stare."

He glances over his shoulder, seeing the person for the first time.

It looks, he thinks, like a man. Slim and strong featured. Greek, maybe. But he can already see the seams of the disguise. How they hold themself a little too carefully.

"You're not human."

The things expression doesn't change, but their presence shifts. Surprised.

"You can tell?"

Michael shrugs. It's easy to spot, if you know how to look. The being shifts again, remembering to move their face this time. They smile, too wide, eyes too bright and open.

"What's your name?"

"I dunno," Michael smiles back. "Will I keep my soul if I tell you?"

"That's up to you."

A moment passes between them. Michael keeps watching them. It's like watching a puppet, moving outside its own power. He wonders what the puppeteer looks like.

"Michael."

The thing shivers. Pleased and sated.

"Michael," it says his name like a song. a breath, a sigh, a croon of delight. It makes his bones shiver and his hair stand on end. The thing that looks like a boy reaches out it's hand.

(not a request, but I've been sitting on this for a bit and decided to finish it up. So, enjoy some David/Paul)

Smoke scrapes Paul's throat as he finishes his third cigarette of the hour, leaned up against the hood of the beat up family car. It's his car, he should just call it that, but every time he tries he hears the words his father had all but spit at him when he'd been handed the keys.

“Listen to me, son. This is a responsibility, I expect you to use it to help this family, not waste time with frivolous nonsense like I know you want to.”

He laughs to himself, though it's a sound that carries no humor. Trust the old man to suck any ounce of joy he could out of freedom. Not that it really was freedom. He couldn't leave. Not with Mom in the state she was, with Mellie and the twins still too young to be left alone. 

His eyes land on the church across the street, its lights spilling out golden on the wet grass. They were taking their sweet time tonight, some big fundraising thing that he hadn't bothered to pay attention to. He wasn't allowed to help, so what was the point? Besides, it was women's group. He was supposed to be doing something more serious than bake sales and bazaars. 

“Like seminary, yeah, right.” He mutters to himself. A bad habit, but one his Father has yet to beat out of him. He fishes in his pocket for another cigarette. Smoking always made him feel better, kept the shit in his brain under quarantine so it wouldn't bubble up and stain anyone else. Make anyone else a target. He could be the black sheep, gladly, so sue him if it came with craving a vice. 

He pats his pockets again, only to come up empty. Fuck.

“Fuck! I'm sure I had-”

“Lookin’ for these?”

Paul nearly jumps out of his skin, wheeling around to see who said that.

A boy is leaning on the side of the car, Paul's pack of cigarettes dangling from his black gloved fingers. He's small, shorter than Paul by a handful of inches. His eyes glint in the streetlight, ice blue and amused.

“How'd you-”

The boy smiles, offering the packet back.

“You should pay more attention, I was standing behind you for a minute before I picked ‘em out of your pocket.”

Paul lets out a disbelieving huff and snatches the cigarettes out of his hand, pulling one out.

“You didn't take my lighter while you were at it, did you?”

The boy smirks, producing Paul's silver Zippo with his other hand. Paul leans over and allows him to bring the flame to the tip of his cigarette, before scooping the lighter back into his pocket. 

“So, what's the eldest Harris doing out here, so late?”

Paul sucks a deep breath, holding the smoke in his lungs. 

“Who's askin’?”

The boy's smile is as dangerous as a wolf. 

“I'm David.”

What the hell. He's got the night. 

“I’m Paul. I’d like to get to know you better.”

Thank you as always, and please take care ♥️

Hey! Thanks so much, and obviously. I love our boys :>

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Paul brought a boy.

It's the first thought that crosses David's mind, when he sees the tall blond boy clamber off the Greyhound with a backpack and a guitar slung across his back. The little shape clinging to his side shines, a new childer, fresh off his first kill and alight to the power in his blood. David can feel the fluttery nervousness in him through Paul. They're not connected. Not yet.

David doesn't intend to let that linger. Not with Max's commandments still writ into his soul.

No childer but your own, David. No blood but mine through you.

Dwayne leans against him, raising an arm so Paul can see them.

"He has a fledge." he murmurs. David shakes his head.

"Not a fledge. That's a full turn. Must've been in a hurry."

Paul finally notices them and waves, a bright, swinging arc of his arms.

"Hey!" he calls, a laugh on his tongue. His little shadow pulls in tighter as they reach the spot David and Dwayne were waiting at. Almost immediately, Dwayne pulls Paul into a tight hug.

"No more running off, yeah?"

"Sure, yeah. Not gonna happen." Paul is grinning, a shine of intoxication in his eyes. David wonders if he's high. He liked to indulge before, but-

The thought is swept away. Paul pulls on the little shapes arm, and it materializes into a boy. He's round faced, with eyes that flash bottle green under golden curls. Paul smiles.

"David, Dwayne, This is Marko. Marko, this is my pack. Yours too, now."

Marko cocks his head, appraising. Then,

"There a reason you dress like a reject from The Magnificent Seven?"

David barks out a laugh, surprised.

"And here I was thinking you were gonna be shy."

Marko's face splits into a devilish little grin. "If you thought that then you must not know Paul very well."

David offers his hand. Marko takes it.

I adore seeing anyone's takes on the David/Marko dynamic, they're just so intriguing to me! There's the personality difference and then also the whole power difference to consider. Recently, I've also been thinking about the fact that in Ali's lore, musical Marko was the second to be turned after David. There's so much to unpack!

So my prompt to you: 👁, and a scene showing how the David/Marko dynamic works in this au!

Thanks for your contributions to this fandom! ❤

OH BOY! I'M KISSING THE BRICK WITH THIS ONE. SORRY!!!

(a note, Tindalos!David interchangeably uses it/they pronouns, but humans generally refer to them as a "he" because of its body)

That being said, here we go :>