#rusty lake fanfic

[the-great-anteater]

Started a tarot-inspired series of arts for my Rusty Lake Roots fanfic

[lonely--shine]

Rose's Roots

[Yesterday I replayed Rusty Lake: Roots and I needed to get this out of my system. Wordcount: 972. Read on AO3]

My name is Rose Vanderboom.

Albert Vanderboom is my dad and only parent. My cousin, Leonard, lives with us. He was gone for 4 years to fight in war, but has now come back.

Leo's much older than me, but since his parents died when he was my age, my dad raised him, and this is his home too.

Leonard doesn't like my dad. I think he might be scared of him. I'm not sure why; dad might be strange, but he has never harmed me.

Years pass. I am 12 now, and one day, when we're alone, I ask Leo why is he afraid of dad. He looks me in the eye and says: "I still have nightmares about the day my parents died. And your father appears in them."

"That can't be," I say. "He wouldn't. He’s my dad."

Leonard looks away and says nothing, and I do the same.

I know my dad. He has his masks and his dark magic, but he's raised me and I too talk to the dead. He loves me, and I love him back.

...But Leonard's fear isn't feigned.

Years pass. I am 15 now. Dad's away, Leo too. I'm alone in the yard when a paperplane comes out of the well. Scribbled lines in shaky, childish handwriting ask for water, and food, and a stick.

I take a bucket and use it to, one by one, lower water, food, and a stick to the bottom of the well.

When I pull up the bucket one last time, the man at the bottom sending me messages from the bottom comes with it.

He's old, like Leo. Maybe older. Much older than me. He's frail and skinny and he can barely stand with the help of the stick when I help him on the ground.

On his other hand, he holds a ripped teddy bear in a grip so tight like I haven't used on a plushie since I was a little girl. He's crying. I help him.

The man's name is Frank. He doesn't talk much. His voice is hoarse. He doesn't seem well.

Frank's much older than me, but he doesn't know how to do a lot of things. Dad taught me how to fend for myself. I care for Frank.

Frank never lets go of his ripped teddy bear. It's difficult —I don't want to wake him— but when he's asleep, I take it and sew it back together. When he wakes and sees it, he cries and hugs it tight. He thanks me, tells me he has nothing for me.

I didn't do it to get something back, but I need to know. "Tell me what happened to you."

I try to imagine how it would've been to live twice my life in a well and I can't. 33 years Frank spent in the well at the yard and I didn't know. And it's dad who kept him prisoner. It's dad who killed Leo's parents.

My dad loves me, and I love him back. He raised me. He threw Frank down a well. He taught me magic. He killed Leo's parents. He taught me how to fend for myself. He kept Frank on the well for over three decades. I love him. I owe him. I can't support his actions anymore.

Years pass. I am 17 now. In the past two years, Frank has improved a lot. He is healthier now, and can walk without his stick. I've been helping him with his reading and writing. I've been teaching him how to cook, and sew, and do other chores. He's been teaching me about the stars, and I like that.

Leo has been helping Frank too. They get along. They both hate and are afraid of my dad.

He is my dad... But they are right.

When Frank and my dad meet, I know they want to murder the other. I know I can't keep the peace anymore.

When Frank kills my dad, I am conflicted. He was my dad. But this way he can't harm anybody ever again.

And I still have a family. Leonard and Frank are my family.

Years pass. I am 24 now. Leo has left for a walk, it's me and Frank alone in the house. It's a lovely day. We play music on the gramophone. He asks me for a dance, and I say yes.

And we dance, and we talk, and it feels nice.

"I am old," he tells me at one point.

He spent 33 years in a well, that's more time than I have been alive. I spent 24 years in the outer world, that's more time than he has ever spent outside that well.

"You're old by age," I say. "I'm old by experience."

I rest my head on Frank's shoulder as we dance, and he hugs me. I close my eyes, and everything's right.

Years pass. I am 26 now, and I'm not sure I want to do this anymore, but I feel the presence around us and I know I have to. The time for rebirth has come.

I told Leo and Frank about the sacrifices. We have the timepieces, we have the body parts. Isn't that enough? Haven't we earned rest?

Time passes. I'm not sure how much. I stand in the lake, with a baby in my arms and Leo and Frank standing at each of my sides.

I close my eyes when the roots wrap around us. I dare to hope for a future in which we're together.

The rebirth worked. And we're all together.

Frank holds me by the waist, Leo peeks at the baby from over my shoulder.

"Does she have a name?" he asks.

"Laura," I say after a second. "And she's our daughter now."

Maybe this time, our family can heal.

[callmegaith]

"What if you became God?"

Fanfic:

[matchesarelit]

Oh no I'm at work

Hope I don't maladaptive daydream

Oooohhh nooo it's happening

[confuse-the-masses]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Rusty Lake | Cube Escape (Video Games) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Characters: James Vanderboom, Mary Vanderboom, Aldous Vanderboom | Mr. Crow, Samuel Vanderboom, Emma Vanderboom, Albert Vanderboom, Rose Vanderboom, William Vanderboom, Leonard Vanderboom, Frank Vanderboom Additional Tags: Novelization, Canon Universe, Suicide, Murder, Surreal, Horror, War, Trauma, boy aren't these fun tags Summary:

Spring 1860. James Vanderboom arrived at Rusty Lake. His uncle had just passed away under mysterious circumstances. James was his uncle’s only heir. He had no idea of the events that would unfold and change his life.

This is an unofficial novelization of Rusty Lake: Roots. It is my attempt to find a balance between RL's surreal setting and a more cohesive story.

[fluffy-little-demon]

ayo (if you feel like it) write a fanfic about your fav slasher's reaction to y/n stealing their shit like a lil goblin rat; could be a shirt, a jacket, a fav dessert, their hat etc, etc lol

I am so sorry this took so long 😭 I hope this is ok and you like it 💕

I did Rusty Nail, Bo Sinclair and Michael Myers (I had peepaw in my head but I guess you could read this for any version)

Rusty and Bo call the reader baby Bo also calls the reader a little minx

Rusty Nail

Gif by @tinalbion

Rusty had put his jacket on the couch momentarily while he went to fetch his phone from upstairs. He came back down and went to grab his jacket only to find it had gone. Rusty chuckled to himself as he walked towards the kitchen where you were making a cup of tea.

"Baby could I have my jacket back please I gotta go."

"But I'm freezing and this is really warm plus it smells like you."

"I could just stay here but then we wouldn't have anything to eat"

"Can't I just come with you. Pleasee?" Giving your best puppy dog eyes.

Rusty rolls his eyes pretending to be annoyed "well come on then, hurry up and put some shoes on."

You quickly but carefully poured your tea into a travel mug to drink on the drink into town. Putting your shoes on while Rusty went upstairs to get another jacket.

Bo Sinclair

Bo had come back home from working in the gas station to have some lunch. He was in the middle of making a sandwich when he felt arms wrap around his waist from behind.

"Hey baby" he says as he turns around in your grasp to kiss your forehead. "You had any food yet?"

"No, I was planning on taking some and Jonesy to that lake in the forest."

"M'kay, just be careful"

"I will" you place a quick kiss on his lips before making your own sandwich. You also pick up a packet of crisps and a can of pop.

"I'mma get back to work, ya gonna be ok?"

"I'll be fine honey" giving him a sweet kiss before taking his hat off his head and it on yours.

"Oi ya little minx, that's mah hat"

"I gotta go byeee" you wave as you walk out the door.

Michael Myers

Michael was looking around for the new hoodie you brought him last week. He had checked the bedroom, the entire wardrobe and the drawers had been emptied, their contents lying all over the floor. He had checked the washing basket. Picked it up and emptied it on the bathroom floor. His hoodie wasn't there either. Michael walked into the living room to ask if you knew where it was, only to find you curled up on the couch wearing the exact hoodie he was trying to find. Michael let out a sharp of air out of his nose before deciding to lie down on the couch and pull you on top of him.

Tags: @sketchy-rosewitch @rottent33th @phantomcat394 @lanamiller comment or send an ask to be added or removed from the list.

[gh0st1nth3wa11s]

hi... Wakers I have a fanfic for you.. chapter one..

'Divers Love.'

okay it's a normalcy AU and is Alan/Alice. they deserve happiness and a break from the hellish(/pos) cannon of the game.

~`☆`~

Alice turned on the car, pulling it off the boat carefully as she playfully honked at Alan. Alan scoffed and rolled his eyes, soon getting in the car. "You ready for relaxation?" His wife asked. Alan cracked a smile, closing his eyes as he rested his head against the window. "Yeah, yeah, Alice." Alice couldn't help but grin bigger, tapping her hand against the steering wheel. She pulled in front of the towns diner. "We need to stop here, get the key from.." Alice leaned forward, looking at the notebook that had their days planned. "A Mr. Carl Stucky, he should be waiting for one of us.." Alice's eyes looked up at Alan, smiling more as her husband groaned, rolling his eyes at her. "I will go fill up the car, and come get you in about.. What? Ten, fifteen minutes?" She asked him, putting the car into park. "Sure." Alan murmured, soon getting out of the car. He was nervous to separate from her. "Oh, and Alan?" His turned back around, leaning down into the car window. "Hm?" "Thank you for coming here with me." He chuckled, smiling as he shook his head. "I love you too, I promise to behave." Alice nodded, gently laughing to herself as she pulled away.

Alan exhaled, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he walked into the diner. He looked around, jumping slightly as he met his carboard self, right in the doorway. He had forgotten about small towns. He had been in New York for years now. It wasn't a little town where everyone knew each other. He had been scared out of his thoughts as the woman behind the counter spoke to him. He glanced at her name tag. Rose. Her name was Rose. "Welcome to the Oh Deer Diner!" Alan cringed internally. She projected her voice so much that it seemed louder than it was. but he knew it was just his exhaustion. Alan spoke quickly, "Hey, I was wondering if you could help me, I'm looking for --" Alan blinked as he had gotten cut off. "Mr. Wake? Alan Wake!! I am your biggest fan - I know how people say that a lot, but I really am -" As Rose spoke, he took a step back, glancing at his carboard cut out. "That's.. great to hear that.."

His voice trailed off. "Rose!" She said happily. "Rose, I'm looking for Mr. Stucky, Carl Stucky." Rose nodded, setting her hand on the counter as the other grabbed a dirty coffee mug from in front of her. "Carl? of course. He must have whent to the rest room, he'll be out in a moment." She smiled warmly at him. Alan moved around, letting his hand run across barstools. Her and Alan talked briefly, She was talking how she had all his books, where she got the cardboard cut out, even to a conversation about coffee with the towns police officers, Rusty. He turned, letting his eyes close as he heard Rose ask if his wife was with him, and that she could show him around town. God he hated that comment. "So much for a quiet vacation.." He mumbled to himself. He spoke louder. "Thanks Rose, we'll be sure to keep that in mind." He said kindly, He swiftly moved toward the back of the diner, turning on that damned music box as he was asked, by the two - seemly old cooks of the town. He made his way into the dark hallway, being weary of where he stepped. He knocked on the bathroom door, "Stucky? Mr. Stucky?" before he soon turned, to get met with a woman in funeral wear. "Jesus-" He muttered. "Carl couldn't make it unfortunately, he fell ill." The old woman held her hand out, the key hung off of it. "But I have the key, and the instructions to get to the lake." Alan nodded carefully and snatched the key from her hand. "Okay.." He muttered. "I wish you a good stay in my cabin. I will visit you later on to check how you are doing." Alan nodded. "And to meet your wife." His eyes turned to a harsh glare as he looked at the woman. He soon fixed his face, it was rude to glare. "I insist." The old woman continued.

Alan looked at her in slight bewilderment. "Thanks.." He moved away quickly, gripping the key in his hand. His eyes darted behind him as the other woman began to talk about darkness and how it wasn't safe. He shrugged it off, keeping himself moving. Eager to get back to Alice. He waved half hazardly to Rose as a goodbye and shoved open the diner door, exhaling as he saw their car in front of it again. He got in the car, taking a big breath. "Mission accomplished, The key-" He held it up in his hand, "And the directions." He grinned just slightly as he saw Alice's face light up. "My hero, I got more batteries and flashlights. just in case." She took the keys from Alan and set them on the clipboard that was on the dash still. Her hand returned to Alan's after she put the car in gear.

They began to drive, his thumb tracing over Alice's ring and down her ring finger as he began to spoke. "That diner was a real nut house.." Alice laughed, "Can you believe this place? this would make a great setting for a book-" Alice's face dropped slightly as she realized the words that had just slipped from her mouth. She didn't even truly, actively try to say that. She glanced at Alan, an apology in her eyes, then back to the road. "Were supposed to be on vacation, Alice." He said with slight bitterness, letting his tone soften before he spoke again. "I'll figure it out when we get back home. Okay?" Alice nodded, and Alan looked back to the road. "Okay, we can talk about this way later." Alice said, reassurance in her voice, one that made Alan feel comfortable enough even with the idea of talking about his writing right now. He hadn't written a coherent sentence since his last book , Two. Years. Ago. It made his head hurt to even think about that fact. Alan let his eyes close, to clear his mind. This was a vacation, time to relax, to let go and be a husband again, a good one at that. He missed Alice, he missed sleeping with her at night. He knew she had gotten used to a cold bed, he hated he was doing this to her. He had taken note of this in his mind. Spend more time with Alice, My light. Everytime that he had thought to get away from the damned typewriter, the darkness of what could happen if he stopped writing entirely re-engulfed his mind, scratching out his wife entirely.

Alan's eyes jerked open as Alice stopped suddenly. She had always been a little rough on the break but he had gotten used to it. She put the car into park and grabbed the clipboard and notebook off the dash, inspecting it and the key. "Bird leg cabin..?" She asked, glancing at Alan. "That was the key I was given.."

Alice laughed, stress eminent in her voice. "By who?" Alan rested his head back against the window, the lingering warmth from the heaters of the car kept him just cozy enough. "Some old woman in-.. like a 70s mourning gown, veil and all." Alice pulled the key from ignition and looked at Alan, her back against the door. "A 70s funeral gown? and you tell me now? Here, get out of the car, we'll explore and then head back into town. This isn't our cabin." Alice opened the door and got out of the car. Alan groaned, opening his eyes and got out of the car with her. Alice damn near ran across the bridge.

Alan scuffled after her, getting a tighter grip around his wife's camera lanyard. He stopped short as he caught up to Alice, heels dug into the soft dirt. He looped the camera around her neck, guiding it to rest against her chest. "Do you really wanna break into this place Alice?" He asked, his hand finding hers once more. Alan looked around, seeing a murder of crows lingered around the island. The house didn't seem up to times, the smell of wet wood filled his nose, this cabin gave him the creeps, he-

Alan was yanked out of his thoughts as Alice pulled him up the steps. "Cmon, just a moment.. Its not breaking in! We were given a key. Do you wanna stay by the door? to make sure nothing closes us in?" She laughed, letting his hand go. Alan rolled his eyes playfully, scoffing as he followed nonetheless. He watched Alice dissappear into the house, and smiled slightly as she fumbled with the key. He remembered how much of an explorer she was, how hands on she was a person. She was never to scared of the law, or the things inside abandoned places. She loved them, saw the beauty in the dilapidation. He stood by the door and held it open wide, watching his wife rummage around the cabin. "Bird leg cabin.." He said.

Alice perked up as he spoke, glancing into a book case. "Yeah, our cabins name is the 'Divers Love' not.. bird leg.." She tilted her head, seeing a couple of books, a writer she had never recognized before. She carefully snagged one from the shoebox, looking at the book in her hand. She set it back down, back with the rest of the books and stacked them neatly inside. Alice left the box and soon moved over to the counter, rubbing her hand against it. "I wonder if they even use this cabin.. its dusty."

Alan moved more inward, keeping an eye on Alice. He nearly yelped as Alice tossed a thermos at him. He caught it half hazardly, looking at it. "Alice!-" He said playfully, laughing softly as he turned it over. "Let's go soon, this place is freaking me out a bit. All the crows, and the... just. this place is weird." Alice nodded, grabbing the few scraps of garbage that was around before grabbing that shoebox. "Babe-" Alan whined as she moved past him. Alice turned around. "I'll return them once we go to leave and return the key to Stucky." Alan nodded, moving away from the door. His head snapped back to it as it slammed behind him. Alice locked the door again, slipping the key into her pocket and moved quickly off the island. Alan hurried after her, assuming she also felt the wisps of uneasiness that reached out of that cabin.

They gotten back into the car, Alice driving again. Alan looked around, ignoring the neck pain and how his back just generally ached. They had been in the car for so so. long. He was eager for a warm bed, a kiss from his wife, maybe a beer if she was okay with it. "Alice..?" He asked gently, looking at her as she hummed in response. "I wanted to- fuck.." Alan took a deep breath. "I wanted to say I'm sorry for all... of my nightly behaviors, when I'm not stuck in that damned office.." Alice grinned slightly, but Alan made no comment- he knew she had absorbed what he had said. "How much did I drink before we left..? Did you drink with me or.." Alice clicked her tongue. "Yes I did, way too much, we killed a twenty-four pack.. within like... oh.. shit, like, 4 hours maybe." Alice gripped the steering wheel as she looked back on the memory, he knew she didn't like her choices. "Sorry baby, I shouldn't have been enabling you." Alan nodded wordlessly, he knew why she did it. Got drunk with him to fall asleep in his arms again, to have his breathing sync with hers. He knew it was a last ditch effort to try and help rekindle their relationship a little more, to bring the rings that adorned their hands close again. He hated that she felt that she needed to be fucked up with him to feel connected with him. He knew Alice wasn't the best at these things, she was emotionally heavy, not taught to truly regulate herself either. He looked over, scanning Alice as a cigarette pack was made known in the pocket of her skinny jeans. Alice used to smoke.. badly, it would help regulate her. Soon Alan picked up on it too, then they both agreed to cut it down to a minimum. She must have been stressed, smoking them when Alan was asleep, he wondered how many packs she had whent through on the way up. Alice must have read his mind, she pulled the cigarette pack from her pocket and set it in the cubby in front of the shifter. Soon Alan's lighter made its way with it. "Oh so my lighter..?" He teased gently, looking over at her lovingly. "Yes.. M' Sorry, I couldn't find mine and it was a last minute idea.." She spoke gently, hunching her shoulders up, bracing herself for some snappy remark. Alan frowned. "Hey no, it's okay babe.. I didn't mean it in a bad way, I was just playin' around.." He said carefully, a hand finding her thigh as he rubbed it gently an attempt to calm her. "Maybe once we get back to our cabin we can get into pajamas and have a nice sleepy day... smoke a blunt, drink some wine... something gentle." Alice looked at her husband with damn near bewilderment. And Alan smiled at her before picking his voice up. "Alice-" Alice snapped her head up and swerved back into her lane properly, having just passed the yellow line. "Good god.." She breathed. "Where did you find pot..? But yes.. that sounds nice.. you deserve rest." Alan chuckled warmly, eyes blinking with tiredness as the exhaustion seeped into his bones. God he missed his wife so much. "I have my ways... and maybe after we get the key we head back to the store and then find our cabin..? You deserve rest too Alice..." He said, always hating how Alice put him first. that the things they did were for him, not for them, together.

Alice nodded, soon parking in front of the diner again. "Okay. I'm gonna get the right key, return this one, and then we can finally fucking unload our car." She clapped her hands together and grinned at Alan. He smiled back weakly, watching her get out of the car and into the diner. God he was exhausted, tiredness pulled at his eyes an everlasting nagging to let himself drown in the darkness that cradled itself at the back of his skull. His eyes cracked open as the drivers door opened again and Alice plopped herself into the seat. "So.. they said.. there is no cabin in the lake. It whent down in the 70s.." Alice looked over at Alan with mischief in her eyes. Alan scoffed playfully and looked away. "Well glad that's not us." He held his hand out for Alice to take, smiling bigger as her had found its place in his.

After a while, they were on the road again, Alan had ran into the store, grabbed beef jerky, a pack of beer, a bottle of Alice's favorite wine — surprised that they had it, so. He had to get it. A small bouquet of flowers, condoms. For some fucking reason. Alan cussed himself internally as soon as they got scanned, what was he going to need those for? Not like he planned on doing anything, and was fine with doing nothing - His thoughts were that if by some damned miracle that he and Alice were to do anything those would ease her mind a bit. Considering it had been.. almost a year. Since anything, any sort of romance, that thought hurt his soul.

Alan looked around again as they pulled into what seemed like the most scenic cabin in the woods ever. He looked around, marveling around at the trees, and how pretty the cabin looked. It was on the opposite side of Cauldron Lake. God, the cabin was beautiful. A bit older, rustic on the outside, but he knew the inside was more modern. He looked at Alice, grinning at her with full fangs - he was excited to be here, with her. He got out of the car, moving over to Alice's side, and scooped her off her feet, causing her to yelp and soon laugh as her husband held her close to his chest. He grinned more, cheeks starting to hurt as she unlocked the door to their cabin for the next month, a long. nice vacation that the both of them deserved, needed.

[hawkinshighdropout]

Skyway Avenue.

Part Two To This Original Story!

Pairing: Eddie Munson x (female) Reader

Summary: Eddie has totally fallen for the new metalhead in school and is taking every opportunity to hangout with you and get to know you. He takes you on a guided tour of Hawkins to show you around your new home. Pure fluff ensues.

Warnings: No warnings, this is purely fluff/pure content. Unless you count a couple of curse words as needing a warning? Idk, I haven’t written fanfics in like 8 years so I’m a little rusty…

Note/Request: Requested by anonymous. “Fairies wear boots part 2 💳💳”

Word Count: 4.4k

Send me prompts to write about!

You jump a little in response to the bell ringing out across the school, signalling the end of the day had come around, scooping up all of your school supplies and stuffing them back into your purple backpack, heading to your locker to dump everything that you didn’t need for the evening. Once you only had the bear minimum left in your bag, you slam the locker shut and turn on your heels, letting out a soft squeak in surprise at the metal head in front of you.

“Jesus chRIST, hi.” You giggle, catching your breath as you can feel yourself going red in the face in embarrassment for the commotion you just made.

“Hi, you.” Eddie smiles, wasting no time in taking you under his metaphorical wing and leading you out towards his van that lay abandoned in the school parking lot.

“Where are we headed first?” You ask, excitement clear in your voice as you climbed into the passenger seat, Eddie revved up the engine before you both slipped into the designated seatbelts.

“I was thinking I’d do a little driven guided tour of some of the more out of the way places, and then we could get out and walk to Skull Rock? It’s in the middle of the woods so you can’t really drive out there, how’s that?” he questioned, putting the van into reverse, and backing out of the spot.

“Sounds great!” You cheer, watching as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed to downtown Hawkins, his first choice? The Hideout.

It was a pleasant ride, the sound of Eddie’s favourite mixtape playing through his van’s speakers, it was all over far sooner than you had expected. The engine cuts off and Eddie grins across at you for what felt like the hundredth time today, gesturing to a small and somewhat dingy bar. “The Hideout” you read the slightly rusted sign that hung overhead, the building was currently closed due to business hours not commencing until after dark, you notice a pure and excited look on his face.

“Okay, so this is where my band play every week… Corroded Coffin? We’re awesome, I’ll definitely make you a tape of our songs so you can sing along when you come and see us next week. I play guitar, you’re gonna love us!”

“That’s very presumptuous of you.” You laugh to yourself, rolling your eyes even if your expression showed that you were just messing about. You were intrigued about his music, and you definitely weren’t against coming and seeing him play.

You two sit and chat for a little longer about how long The Hideout had been there, and how it was apparently the perfect place for outcasts to get together and feel wanted and like they belonged. You made a mental note to keep this place on your list of safe spaces whilst Eddie rocked the engine back up, you blink and he’s speeding out of the parking lot and heading to the next stop on the tour. His unsteady driving was something you’d have to get used to.

He drove you both next towards Lovers Lake, a place you recall the kids giving you a warning about as it had quite the reputation thanks to its name. Eddie took you around a lap of the place in the van before he parked up at the entrance and gave you a chance to take it all in, hands up in defence as he let out a loud laugh, cheeks pink as he looks at you.

“I swear to god, I didn’t bring you here to make out! I just wanted to give you a tour of all the best places, and this is totally a great spot to just park up, light up and watch the sunset. It gets real quiet here at night and its bliss…” Eddie sighed in content, you slap his arm playfully with your hand before offering a childish pout.

“Wow, so I’m not good enough for you to wanna make out with, hm?” you tease, he immediately starts to stumble over his words as he scrambled to defend himself.

“No—I mean, you are? You are! I just—I didn’t want you to think I just bring any pretty girl here and try and hook up with them?! I—” you cut him off with a loud snort of laughter.

“I was fucking with you, Munson! But thanks for the ego boost.” You grin, patting his thigh whilst he drops his head into his hands and lets out a sigh of what you registered to be relief.

“I hate you.” He snorts, taking a deep breath before squeezing the wheel in both hands, “let’s get outta here, I’ll take you somewhere with far less expectations.”

Once more the engine roars to life, it was endearing the way he would become so flustered and awkward whenever you teased him. A smile on your face as he turned up the music as if to drown out his thoughts, looking out the window to take in the sights and get a lay of the land whilst he moved in the direction of the woods that backed onto Hawkins High. You were unsure on why he didn’t start here first as it was the closest to school, but he explained that he needed to wait for everyone to have gotten back home so you didn’t bump into anyone in the woods right after school.

Pulling up on the mud path, he shuts off the engine and unbuckles his belt, you follow suit and free yourself from the safety of the restraint. Climbing out of his car and slamming the door behind yourself whilst Eddie takes his time wandering to your side of the car, locking the vehicle, and stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets. Using his head to nod in the direction of the trail whilst you walk side by side, his voice hushed as you disappear into the woods together.

The small trail gradually ends, and Eddie takes a more… scenic route. You follow close behind as he seems to know where he was going, eventually coming to a small clearing that only had a small and abandoned picnic table in the centre of it.

“Welcome to my lair.” He laughed, slumping down onto one side of the table whilst you glance around, a little more cautious than he was, sinking into the opposite side as you place your palms against the tabletop.

“You usually hangout by yourself in the middle of bumfuck nowhere?” you laugh, sound amplified in a wave of echoes from the forest replicating your sound, making another mental note to keep the noise down so it wasn’t projected like that again.

“To be honest… This is where I come to do my deals.” He admits, fumbling with his rings and avoiding your eyes, afraid you were going to judge him and leave.

“Deals?” you ask, you thought you understood what he meant, but you wanted him to be clearer, so you weren’t making assumptions about his statement.

“Yeah, uh… I sell weed out here, y’know? Helps my uncle pay bills..” he shrugs.

“Oh, okay. I can see why you’d pick such a remote location then.” You offer him a smile, reassuring him in one gaze that you weren’t here to judge him, not one bit.

His visibly relaxes once he realises you weren’t disgusted by his side hustle, he folds his arms across his chest with a shy smile before clearing his throat, “Do you smoke, per chance?”

You shake your head side to side, Eddie just nods once in response.

“That’s alright, gotta keep your pretty lungs squeaky clean.” He offers a smile, “Do you mind if I have a cigarette? I can totally hold out until later if you’re disgusted by that.”

“No, no, go ahead!” you reassure him, he takes a second to check that you meant your words before fishing his cigarettes out of his jacket and lighter, lighting up one of the sticks before taking a long drag and exhaling away from you. Not wanting to cover you in the smell, especially as you had been so accommodating to him already.

“So… How’re you finding Hawkins so far?” he questions, mid drag of his cigarette.

“I like it… Well, yeah. I think I like it? It’s a way different vibe than back home, and the people seem to be nice enough, apart from the jocks, they can stick their egos up their asses. Everyone else is nice, at least to my face.” You smile, it was your turn to fumble with your fingers now.

“Oh? That’s great to hear. Made any friends?” his voice genuine, hopeful.

“Not exactly? I mean, Dustin is great, but we don’t cross paths much as he’s in the younger classes, Steve and Nancy are really sweet, kinda feel like a third wheel around them, though. You’ve been great to me so far, so thank you for that.” You ramble on.

“Not a problem, Doll. Happy to guide such a pretty face around town,” he starts, stubbing out the end of the cigarette and setting his hand upon the back of your palm comfortingly, “You can always sit with us at lunch, table’s always open for you.”

You nod, smiling gratefully in his direction.

“20 Questions?” he announces out of nowhere, causing you to laugh.

“Sure, go ahead…” you relax into the table, awaiting the grilling that was on the horizon.

“Metallica or Black Sabbath?” starting simple, his brow cocking at you in interest.

“Metallica, always. Next.” A smug grin on your lips. This would be easy.

“Drummers or guitarists?” he probes, attention hung on every word you said.

“Hm…” you took a second to think “Drummers have better rhythm, but guitarists are better with their hands, so..” you laugh, clearly kidding, “I think guitarists.”

“Yes!” Eddie claps his hands once in celebration with a cheer, “Favourite colour?”

“Deep purple, mhm. I used to have my whole room pastel purple when I was a kid, now it’s all just a slightly moodier purple, suits me far better.” You smile at the memory of your childhood bedroom, finding it easy to open up to the older student.

“Horror movie or comedy?” arms folding across his chest again as he speaks.

“Horror, no doubt.” you state proudly, “next?”

“Breakfast or dinner?”

“Breakfast for dinner, duh.” You snort a laugh, an amused smile on his face.

“Spicy or sweet food?” tilting his head to the side in question.

“Sweet. I have such a sweet tooth, ugh.” You sigh in content.

“Best ice cream flavour?”

“Mint chocolate chip!” you squeal in delight, your delight soon replaced with a sad pout as Eddie scrunched up his face and looked appalled at your choice.

“You’re disgusting, just when I started to like you, dammit!” he joked, rolling his eyes before racking his brain for another thing to ask you, “cats or dogs? I swear to god if you say ca—”

“CATS!” you interrupt, causing him to groan and hide his face in his hands, eventually peeking through his hands to show that he was pretending to judge you.

“Strike two, Y/L/N.” he warns, “Beach or woods?”

“Woods, beach is too mainstream” you giggle, Eddie soon slumps back against the table and seems to have a bright grin on his lips.

“And you’re back in the game! Okay, uh… Drown or burn alive?”

You wince at the thought of having to suffer with either of those options, both making your palms sweat a little as you hoped you’d never have to encounter either, “I’d rather burn alive.. I’d risk becoming Eddie Kruger than drown, fuck that.” You pout at even the thought.

“Is that your biggest fear?” he questions, you shake your head, “then what is?”

“I’m terrified of heights, anything where I’m out of control and in the hands of nature. I don’t wanna take flights or get in the ocean or climb high, I’d very much like to stay on the ground where it’s safe.” You tense up a little at the thought of having to be in those situations, Eddie notices your demeanour changes and he plucks out another question to change the subject and get you to relax.

“Sports or video games?” he asks, squeezing your wrist to comfort you.

“Video Games, definitely” you answer quickly.

“Dad bods or gym rats?”

“I don’t have a preference, I fall for people with personality and kind hearts” you blush.

“Booooo, boring!” Eddie snorts, causing you to smack his forearm gently, “I’m just fucking with you, Jesus! Okay, tattoos or piercings?”

“Tattoos, they’re way more impressive to me” you smile, seeing the way Eddie sits up a little in his seat, clearly approving of your answer, the older boy covered in tattoos that you had yet to actually see.

“Correct,” he teases, “Got a celebrity crush?”

“Johnny Depp! He’s… God, he’s pretty.” You sigh in a dreamy tone, “Tommy Lee too, I know he’s an absolute asshole and I do not support anything he does, but my GOD is he fine..”

Eddie laughed, a smug grin on his lips as clearly you had a type, he approved.

“Got a useless talent?” raising a brow, sitting back as you nod.

“I can always land on the number I wanted when rolling dice. Every single time, I can’t remember the last time I got it wro—” you start, Eddie shouts in delight.

“Wait, seriously?! Prove it!” he demands, tugging his lucky D20 from his pocket and placing it on the table in front of you, looking like an excited child waiting for a magician to do a trick at a birthday party.

“Okay, what number do we want?” you ask, swiping up the dice.

“Uhhhh, 13! Unlucky 13!” he grins, beady eyes staring at the dice in your palm.

“Alright…” you start, closing your eyes and bringing your fist up to your face, taking a deep breath in silence before shaking your hand a few times, allowing the dice to fall freely onto the table. It came to a slow rolling stop before Eddie hopped up to look at it, you sat in your place and waited proudly.

“It’s… a 13, what the fuck?!” he squeals, picking up the D20 in pure disbelief and shaking his head, handing the item to you before demanding you did it again, not wanting it to be a fluke, “Do it again, go for an 8 this time!” he demands.

You roll, it’s an 8.

“17!”

You roll, it’s a 17.

“3! 12! 19!”

You roll, 3. You roll, 12. You roll, 19.

Eddie is losing his mind, hands in his hair as he had stood up and began pacing back and forth in disbelief, going off on a whole tangent about how ‘crazy impressive’ this was, declaring that you needed to be at every DND event as their ‘good luck charm.’ It took him a good while to compose himself, sitting opposite you once again. Pocketing the dice in his jacket, he then shakes his head in disbelief.

“Holy god damn shit, that was insane…. Fuck, okay! Nothing can top that, okay. Do you have a favourite Star Wars character?” he prods, practically heart eyes at you.

“Leia. She’s a princess and a badass, I love her.” You smile proudly.

He couldn’t argue with that, it was a solid choice with solid reasoning.

“Pet peeves?”

“Plot holes, people who are late and probably… maybe people who talk through movies?” you shrug, not sure about which one of those listed bothered you the most in honesty.

“Final question—” he starts before you interrupt.

“You’re a question short, Munson. You said 20, this would be 19.”

He smirks in your direction, shrugging his shoulders before mumbling “close enough, hush,” which made you laugh to yourself, “Halloween or Christmas?”

“For me? Halloween. I love the decorations and dressing up in costumes and getting free candy, but for my family? Christmas. I love getting to gift people things that make them smile, I love the ruse of Santa and the lead up to the big day,” you smile.

“S-Santa’s not real…” Eddie gasps, grabbing at his chest and falling back off of the chair as if you had just crushed his world, he rolled around on the floor for a second before jumping to his feet, both of you in a fit of giggles, “and on that heart-breaking note, we should get going before it gets dark.”

You stand, taking his hand that is offered in your direction, dusting off your skirt before you start the slow decent back towards his van, the pair of you talking excitedly about things such as Lord of the Rings and Star Wars. Only pausing to thank him as he opened the door for you, climbing in and buckling up once more, Eddie then hops in his side and prepares to take you on the next step of the tour, glancing up at the sky as it was quickly getting darker, then glancing across at you.

“We’re gonna have to take a rain check on the Skull Rock thing, it’s getting dark, and I don’t want to be the reason you slip and break your ankle in the middle of the muddy woods, hope that’s alright with you?” you nod, so he continues, “so either I can take you back to your place if you’re done with my ass, or we can head back to my place and hangout until you’re ready to go home?”

“Your place?” you smile hopefully, looking up at him with soft eyes.

“You got it, sweetheart.” Eddie smiles simply, kicking into gear and speeding his way back to his trailer, tapping his hands on the steering wheel in time with whatever played on the speaker, gravel crunching under his tires when he pulled up to his place.

“Home Sweet Home,” Eddie sighs, shutting off the van and clambering out, scurrying to your side to let you out of the passenger side, slamming the door shut behind your both and strolling up to his front door. Jangling the keys as he unlocks the door, gesturing for you to enter as he stumbles inside after you, the door smacking closed behind you. “Stay here for a sec, will ya?”

You nod, watching as he tumbled through the trailer into one of the back rooms, playing with your fingers nervously as you hear banging and crashing from the far end of the house, half tempted to check out the noise, but you didn’t want to intrude. He came out a little while later, plates and cups stacked high in one hand and a trash bag in the other, stacking the things into the sink to deal with later before he took the trash out, washing his hands before beaming brightly at you.

“Sorry—I’m not used to having guests as pretty as you, so I hadn’t cleaned up before, hopefully it’s to your standard now, love.” He laughed, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly before gesturing for you to wander down the hall to where he had emerged from.

You walk ahead of him, stepping into the bedroom with a soft smile on your face, doing a slow 360 turn to take in the room, noticing the posters of bands you loved, cassette tapes stacked high of the music you both enjoyed, bedroom still a little messy but you couldn’t blame him, nor would you judge him. Ashtray full of stumped out cigarettes and blunts, besides that was the small box of condoms that he kept, causing you to giggle. His eyes following your line of sight before his cheeks went red, Eddie snatching up the box and stuffing them into this bedside table with an embarrassed groan.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, a magazine catching your attention as it was half peaking out from under a shirt that he left on the bed, tugging the corner of it out from its hiding spot, eyes wide as you take in the cover. Heavy Metal? You noticed the half-naked cartoon on the front, looking up at Eddie with an amused little snort, to which Eddie snatched it out of your hands as he only became more flustered, stuffing it into the drawer alongside the condoms.

“Don’t mention it,” he grumbled, sitting beside you. You actioned to zipping your lips shut and throwing away the key, not wanting to make him uncomfortable in his own home, he visibly relaxes when he realises you are dropping the subject.

He slumps back until his back is flushed with the mattress, laying sideways across the bed whilst you turn to face him. Kicking off your shoes so you can bring your feet up onto the bed, crossing your legs with your hands poking his chest fondly.

“Mind if I light up?” Eddie asks, he had gone all day without smoking anything so he would be lying if he said he wasn’t craving it, you shake your head and give him the green light to do as he pleased.

He reached behind him without looking, clearly a routine for him, grabbing his rolled blunt and lighter. Eddie brings the blunt to his lips, lighting the end before taking a long drag with a groan of content, tilting his head away from you to make sure that he wouldn’t exhale in your face. You sat comfortably in silence for a while, watching Eddie become more pliant and relaxed as you just enjoyed watching him in his natural habitat. It’s not long before he is stubbing the end of the blunt out, and you reach over to his hand, admiring the rings whilst your thumbs ghost over the metallic details with a fond smile.

“So… What now?” you ask softly.

“Hm?” he looked blissed out, shrugging. He didn’t have a plan right now, just content with being here in the peace and quiet with his new friend. Taking your hand, bringing it to his face so he can press a couple of kisses to your knuckles. “Well, what did you wanna do?”

Your turn to shrug, not having thought that far ahead in all honesty. “Tell me about yourself?” you offer, having spent most of the day talking about yourself, you wanted to know more about the sweetheart in front of you.

“Okay, I can do that…” he starts, recalling a vague outline of his childhood, avoiding going into any detail that wasn’t necessary as you could tell that was a touchy subject for him to get into. He then went into detail about his interests and his passions, his little group of friends that he had collected along the way, how he was really hoping to graduate this year as it was his last chance to do that. His plans for his life after graduation, to go on tour with his band or if everything else failed he would want to become a music teacher or host some kind of club like Hellfire outside of school to ‘make sure nerds never lose themselves in the mundane and forced conformity’ as he put it.

His head found its way into your lap, and your fingers found a home in his curls, twirling them around your fingertips whilst he opened up to you and answered every and any question you could possibly throw his way. You’re not sure how it happened, but somehow the hours had slipped right past you, glancing at the watch on your wrist out of pure interest whilst a yawn escaped your lips, Eddie was in a half-asleep state in your lap.

“Holy shit, it’s past midnight!” you squeak in response.

Its not like you had a curfew or anything, your parents trusted you and knew that you would soon call if you needed any help, but the fact you had been hanging out with his sleepy puppy-like human for a solid eight hours had surprised you.

“Shit, really? Let me take you home—” Eddie was suddenly very awake now, stumbling up to tug on his shoes and jacket that he had previously discarded.

The pair of you tug your shoes back on before he’s swiping his keys from the kitchen counter, rushing you out of his trailer and locking the door behind you both. You’re quiet whilst clambering up into the van, trying to be polite so the neighbourhood wasn’t disrupted so late at night. That was soon a wasted effort when the van started up, gravel crunching once again as Eddie backed out of the driveway, heading in the direction of the address you had mumbled to him. The music far quieter this time as you drove, you were looking out the window at whatever the dull streetlights would illuminate, and Eddie would focus on driving, a yawn slipping out of his mouth often.

Eventually pulling up into your driveway, parking his van behind your mother’s car whilst you reached into the back to grab your backpack, grabbing out your keys and turning to flash Eddie a nervous smile.

“Thank you so much for today… It was really nice.” You admit, to which he shoots you a sleepy smile, leaning across the gear stick to peck your cheek fondly.

“Not a problem, doll. I had a blast.” He confesses, the both of you smiling like goofballs.

“I—I’ll see you at school tomorrow?” you offer.

“I’ll pick you up on the way if you want? I don’t mind” Eddie shrugs.

“Really?” brows furrowing as if you didn’t believe he would go out of his way to drive in the opposite direction just to come and take you to school so you could avoid the early morning bus route.

“Totally, babe. See you at 8?” he smiles, you nod. Pressing another soft kiss against your cheek before he pulls back and lets you climb out. Watching you like a hawk as you head the couple of steps towards your front door, you turn to face him once the door was open.

He offers you a friendly wave and a flirty wink, you reciprocate the wave as your face heats up from his actions, cheeks hurting from how hard you’re smiling. Reluctantly closing the door behind yourself and heading into the house, Eddie pulling out of your driveway with the most smitten smile imaginable. Shaking his head from side to side in disbelief as he makes his way back home, sighing happily at the thought of seeing you again tomorrow morning.

“I’m so fucked..” he chuckled, heart pounding out of his chest.

He was crushing on you, hard, there was no denying it.

[phr3nopatik]

Sorry for not being too active around here, anxiety is kicking my ass. But in the meantime I wrote a jackalope fanfic in case anyone is interested in reading it 👀

[lunarsands]

ALSMP Fanfic: Mirror Tenfold, Beyond the Wall - Ch 1

Characters: Scott Major, MythicalSausage, Shubble, PearlescentMoon; featuring the return of vampire!Scott but in an alternate way, and actual!angel!Sausage but cursed; with special guests Sparrow and Rusty the Copper Golem

Tags: Canon divergent, AU, crossover between two Afterlife universes with New Life SMP thrown in for good measure

WARNINGS: Blood, Violence, Injury, consensual blood drinking, PTSD, mentions of death

Summary: The Mysterious Force that keeps picking people up and depositing them into alternate universes comes for Myth and Smajor this time, and plunks them down near a new set of counterparts -- well, new to Smajor. Myth has met this other version of himself once before, in a place called Sanctuary. At least now there's someone with ten times the number of powers to keep Smajor in check, right?

The vampire returns but he’s not going to want a taste of this type of angel blood.

Follows after the events of Thou, O Kings, Fair Be You All - Part Eight of the Soul Liminality Series | Part Four of The Reality Entanglement Series

(Also available on Ao3!)

[A/N: Hello, I’m back! Sorry for the delay in posting anything, I had a rough patch of writer’s block for a couple of months. I’m going to keep chipping away at it! Have yet another Soul Liminality sequel/crossover in the meantime.

How It Started: wrote a dark one shot for the fun of it. How It's Going: well, you'll see at the end of this fic…

The joy of the creative process is never knowing when an idea will perpetuate itself beyond where you thought it was going to end.]

---

Chapter One

Smajor rolled the broken clock across the floor of his new cell, then scratched at his cheek with the frayed cuff of his dingy white shirt. Myth had yet to offer a new one after slicing through the back of it, and there were probably some new rips in it as well as in his baggy black pants from landing on the rough surface of a meteorite some weeks ago. At least the brown leather shoes were holding up. Small comfort, though. There was a pervasive chill in the air from being so far underground surrounded by stone, but he didn’t bother to complain. He doubted Myth would do anything about it.

The cursed angel didn’t seem bothered by the condition of his own clothes – the sleeveless black surcoat with gray trim that he had been wearing since his previous life as a blazeborn, with short black straps down the front and a generous number of tears and holes scattered around from when Smajor had attacked back. The top two straps were torn in half from an attempt aimed at his heart. Likewise, his worn black trousers were shredded to just above the knee. His tall black leather boots had fared the best, with all of the buckled straps along the side still intact.

He had also kept the orange flame-shaped buckle, maybe figuring it worked as a symbolic stand-in for holy fire – or rather, the fires of hell.

When the clock fell over Smajor retrieved it then returned to his spot on the floor and rolled it again, this time using just enough force so that it might bump the door and roll back toward him, but not so much to make a lot of noise. Myth seemed particularly prickly today and Smajor had decided to not annoy him too much because he knew what the cursed angel was like in that mood.

But he was also so bored.

When the clock began to wobble on its way back for the umpteenth time then fell over, Smajor sighed and gave up on it. He stood and went to pick up that morning’s bucket of fresh water. He glanced toward the small window in the door, then lifted it and dumped it over his head. He hadn’t checked the temperature first so it caused an involuntary gasp. “Oh, that’s cold! Where did you get this from? Did we run out of lava or something?”

After the destruction outside their last place of residence, Myth had relocated to a less sculk-infested cavern that still had a convenient lake and lavafall nearby for him to build another obsidian cell. Smajor had, shockingly, stayed true to his word and sat quietly while Myth worked to set everything up again. At the time, Smajor had shrugged in apparent resignation, admitting that he knew full well Myth would only hunt him down again if he escaped, and – again – that he preferred to not die any more times.

Myth had graciously given the clock back to him before locking him up again, then took up his somber station at the table lit only by a soul lantern plus the eerie glow of his inverted halo. And then the dull monotony returned. Away from the sculk, Myth’s own infection had cleared up; he still had some angelic healing, it seemed.

“I got it from the far side of the lake. I felt like taking a long walk,” Myth replied. “Enjoy being soaking wet for hours, by the way.”

“Oh, so you’re getting bored, too, huh?”

“Nope. Just felt like a long walk.”

“Come on, be honest with me – you’re tired of being cooped up down here! You’ve got wings, don’t you want to get out and fly sometimes?”

“No. I’m not some bird needing to follow migratory paths.”

“But you did stick yourself in a cage with me.”

“I’m protecting the world from both of us. Just because you have no powers doesn’t mean you won’t go on a murder spree the first chance you get. And it’s not safe to be around me, either.”

“Wow, you won’t give either of us a new chance, will you?”

“Why should I? What use does the world have for me besides this? I’m already condemned, so I might as well keep you with me.”

“Well, you’re the one who assigned yourself as my warden. You could try tossing me into that portal again, then you could be free.”

“Do you want to be wandering an endless limbo maze forever?”

“Is that any different from being here forever? At least there were interesting things to look at in there. I wish I had appreciated them more. But I was also completely out of my mind at the time. Oh, and I didn’t know then that I might end up spending the rest of my immortal life entombed alive at the bottom of the world.”

“I could put you at the bottom of the Nether for a while, where there’s no water.”

“But there are sounds of life! It’s too quiet here! Aside from the random creepy cave noises. I think there was more light in that limbo dimension, too.”

“Hm. How about if you stop making noise now?”

“Oh, sorry for disturbing your intention to brood in darkness for eternity.” Smajor rolled his eyes. He scrunched up the bottom of his shirt to wring some of the water out of it. The puddle he had caused earlier was draining off through a narrow, hidden gap somewhere in the floor. He had yet to figure out how Myth had engineered the cell. Obsidian wasn’t exactly the most malleable substance. The most he could figure out was that the ichor dripping off his wings had a selective acid-like quality at times.

Smajor had no idea how that worked. There must be more to being a cursed angel than Myth was willing to utilize.

As he straightened the front of his shirt and began to reach to pull at the back of it to wring out that side, he noticed his hands seemed to have a shimmer to them. Had there been something in that water? Maybe residual glow squid ink? The shimmer then grew brighter. He grinned. “Hey, Myth— you know how there’s that glowing light whenever someone gets sent to another world?”

Myth grunted in annoyance, indicating he wasn’t interested in the conversation.

“Yeah, so, looks like it’s my turn for a family reunion with some other versions of me.” Smajor continued to grin as he walked to the door, intending to leer out at the cursed angel once he got there and then he would wave goodbye.

To his disappointment, Myth was now also limned in a brightening light. Smajor cursed.

Myth gave a long sigh and kept a grip on the hilt of his sword, although he left it sheathed as he locked eyed with Smajor. “I don’t care where this stupid magical force sends us – I’m keeping you in my sight, so don’t even think—”

His words faded into the air as they were whisked away. He only hoped it didn’t drop them into the world of the shining seraph and the version of Smajor who could call down whole meteors.

~*~

Myth squinted up through the tree leaves at the pale blue sky from where he lay on the ground, the daylight hurting his eyes. It had been much the same when he had last found himself teleported somewhere against his will, and it had been one of the reasons he hadn’t told his group of counterparts for why he had been late to the fight against the Tyrant King – or, Sausage Supreme, or one particular part of Sausage Supreme’s soul. He was still unclear on what in the world that had all been about, but he also didn’t entirely care.

He needed to find out where he was this time, and more importantly, where Smajor was. The peaceful breeze causing the leaves above to sway seemed to be tempting him to let his guard down. He refused. He fought his way into a sitting position, a few blades of grass sticking to his feathers as he pulled his wings along.

There were oak and birch trees all around. Just some random forest, in the middle of nowhere?

The bad news was he didn’t see or hear Smajor anywhere nearby. Myth surmised, however, that if his nemesis had been in the same place and woke up first, there would be no doubt he would have been trying to strangle the cursed angel while the advantage lasted.

After getting to his feet, Myth took a few staggering steps, putting a hand to his head. It might have been his imagination, but his wings felt heavier. He knew his body couldn’t possibly be that atrophied. It might be something about this world…

Or maybe it was just a side effect of the teleport. Either way, he grumbled to himself and adjusted how his wings were folded then headed off through the trees while keeping an eye out for any signs of Smajor.

He became wary when he started seeing soul lanterns hanging from the trees. The shape of a building came into view. As he got closer, he picked out some of the details of the roof, although nothing about it was familiar to him. He had just caught a glimpse of tinted glass when he thought he saw something move in the shadows to his right. He whipped around, hand reflexively closing on the hilt of his sword.

“Oh, hey, Sausage!” the shadows called in a cheerful tone. “I almost didn’t recognize you! Is this a new look to try to win Scott over? I never took you for the goth type, but those boots are pretty cool! Nice work on the scar makeup, too. Makes you look like you’ve been fighting some tough monsters!”

Myth turned around with a scowl and a frustrated expression. Great, just what he needed – to be mistaken for this world’s version of him. “Show yourself. I have a few things to explain to you.”

The voice now sounded confused. “Can’t you see me? I thought you could sense anything with your gravity-sonar.”

Myth debated whether he should make an assumption based on that comment alone. He unfolded his wings and stretched them out. “Do I really look like a gravital to you?”

“Whoa,” came the astonished response. “I thought that was a cape! You got your wings back! How? A-And why so many? And…what’s wrong with them? They’re, like, dripping—”

Myth cut the voice off by snapping his middle wings in a single flap, sending droplets of ichor splattering against the tree trunks – and onto a humanoid shape within one tree’s shadow. “There you are!” He lashed out with an empty hand to try to grab them so he could drag them out into the open.

However, his hand passed right through them as their portion of the shadow turned into swirling smoke. The smoke reformed into a vaguely more solid figure who was about twenty centimeters shorter than him. “Hey! That’s rude! Don’t tell me you’re actually fully back on Scott’s side! We agreed he was going too far with the evil plans! Sausage!”

“I’m not who you think I am!” Myth yelled back. “I only look like him! Angels don’t just get their wings back if someone cuts them off! I had to die several dozen times and just happened to revive as another type of angel to get these!!”

A sharp gasp came from the shadowy person, then they finally moved out into the light. As they did so, a pair of pale-yellow eyes became visible, along with long, grayish-brown hair and a rather unassuming outfit of a short-sleeved shirt under stonewash overalls. “Th-Those scars are real, too, then? Who are you? Why do you look so much like Sausage? And… are you on Scott’s side?” they added cautiously.

“Not on my life,” Myth growled. Then, seeing the alarmed response, he asked in a less angry tone, “I’ll try to explain, but first, who are you?”

“I’m just your friendly neighborhood shadowcrawler, Shubble!”

Myth searched his memory but quickly gave up with a sigh. “I might have known someone by that name. It’s… been a long time since I saw anyone in my world. I come from a place that didn’t have a happy ending, and I’ve been busy keeping two monsters from destroying it even more.”

“Ohh… …Wait. You’re from where, exactly?”

Myth sighed again. “Do you have any concepts of parallel universes here?”

“Do you mean like the Nether, or the shadow dimension?”

“No, I mean like an entire duplicate of everything, but with either very small or very big differences.” He flicked his top pair of wings to emphasize his point. “I was once known as Mythical Sausage, but now I just go by Myth. Because the Scott of my world wasn’t just evil with a possible hidden good side, he went full-on obsessive murderer. And I was his target. And in my world, you just keep reviving after death with new powers. Up to a point. And now he’s loose in this world. And since he wasn’t near me when I woke up here, that means he might be somewhere else. Which means the Sausage you know is in a great deal of danger.”

Shubble seemed to get an amused look on her face. “Well, I don’t know about him being in danger, he’s pretty strong. Okay, let me ask – if you’re a… six-winged angel, what is your Scott?”

“He has no powers anymore, but that doesn’t mean anyone should underestimate him. Also, a tip – he goes by Smajor, so if for some reason you run into two Scotts that look the same, use that to call him out.”

“Why ‘Smajor’?”

“Because, to put it politely, he’s a major pain in the neck.”

“Oh, ours is like that, too! Vampires, am I right?”

“Great,” Myth grumbled. “Vampire again. Didn’t need a round two of that.” Yet then he smirked and chuckled slowly. “I bet cursed angel blood won’t taste very good. Maybe it would even make him choke.”

“Cursed angel?” Shubble asked curiously.

“Why else do you think I look like this?” Myth spread his arms – and his lower pair of wings – to indicate his whole appearance.

“Well, I don’t know – angels can dress in goth style if they want, right? But, um, say – can I help you find new clothes that aren’t, like, shredded and falling apart? You might need some better cover and even some armor while you’re wandering around.”

Myth threw an irritated glare at her. “Do you really think I have time to worry about that with Smajor out there possibly hurting someone right now?”

“Sorry. It was just a thought. But we should go see Sausage – uh, my Sausage? – because he might be able to help! He keeps an eye on a lot of things around the place, so he might have seen your Scott – uh, Smajor. And then I guess figure out how you got here, and how to send you home. There’s still a second monster you have to get back to watching out for, right? What’s that one like?”

Myth didn’t answer. He waited to see if she might figure it out.

Shubble only tilted her head, momentarily looking like a dog or even a cat observing something from a different angle of perception. After a few seconds she said, “Something too scary to mention, huh? I’ll stop asking. Let’s go! I think I know the best place to find him at this time of day. And we’ll keep an eye out for this Smajor of yours on the way. At least Scott will be holed up somewhere avoiding the sun. I honestly don’t care much for the sun, either, but I’ve learned to live with it.”

It was at this point that Myth probably should have clued into something, himself, but any memory of meeting a shadowcrawler in the past was far too distant – and if Smajor had happened to become one during the long test of the limits of revival magic, he didn’t have the opportunity to learn their weaknesses.

.

After a few minutes they came to a well-worn path through the trees. As they walked along, Myth was sorely tempted to offer to fly them to wherever Shubble was leading, particularly when they passed by two people that were playfully chasing each other and appeared to be animal hybrids – one a wolf, the other a fox. They both stopped and stared, but Myth kept his head high and continued forward like he had every right to be there. He had a sneer at the ready in case they mistook him for this world’s Mythical Sausage, too. Fortunately, it seemed like they had been intimidated into keeping any such thought to themselves.

However, Shubble came to a halt. “Hey, I have to do something real quick. You can just keep going straight on this path, and I’ll catch up! I can move faster through the shadows, so don’t worry if you get really far ahead!”

The color disappeared from her features as her form darkened to blend with the shadow of the nearest tree. Myth tried to keep eyes on the slight distortion she created, yet then she disappeared completely. He returned to walking but remained alert in case this turned into some kind of trap.

Then, from behind him he heard a wolf howl, followed by a second howl and then the yip of a fox – although none of them sounded alarmed. Instead, it gave off the sense of some type of conversation.

He supposed they might be gossiping about the grim angel they had just witnessed. Far be it for him to care. Although, for half a second it struck him as odd that he hadn’t heard Shubble’s voice – but then he realized her business could have been unrelated. So, he continued onward until a mountaintop village came into view over the trees ahead of him. He narrowed his eyes. Then resentment twisted his lips. That wasn’t a village.

That was Heaven’s Reach.

There were many more buildings – all sparkling, pristine in appearance – than he had managed to build back in his home, but he recognized the meager few that matched locations with his. He moved off the path into a spot with fewer trees and spread his wings. He could obviously guess where Shubble meant they would find her Sausage. Maybe he could do some reconnaissance first and get the drop on his counterpart before he could use any gravital tricks on him.

However, as he was taking a few test flaps of his middle wings to see if the heavy feeling was still there, Shubble phased upward from the ground right in front of him. “I wouldn’t recommend that. He’s got a few measures in place against hostile flyers. Besides vampires, there are a couple of troublesome dragons around. They think they can ransack any place they want to try to get gold.”

“So, not only would I get mistaken for a creature of the night, I might be mistaken for a whole dragon?”

“Hey, you never know! Besides, it’s better that you stick with me so I can explain things.”

���Does that rule out carrying you up with me?”

“Uhm…” Shubble leaned to look around him at his wings. “No offense, but I don’t want to get any more of that stuff on me.”

“Oh, none taken at all,” Myth proclaimed sarcastically. “Let me go wash it off – oh, wait, I can’t. They’re permanently like that and I had no say in it.” He folded them down onto his shoulders, returning them to the cloak-like appearance

“Sorry” Shubble said in an awkward tone. “Let’s, uh, just keep going on the road. Ummm, can I ask what happened, though? I didn’t know angels came in, uh, that condition. Are you some kind of hybrid angel?”

“Nope, I happen to be a specific type.”

“Oh, so, doesn’t that mean you’re special?”

“No. I’m what other angels aspire not to be.”

“You know what, I’ll just ask Sausage later. He knows a lot of things that he doesn’t talk about much, either.”

“You’re really nosy.”

“Well, you know what they say about cats and curiosity!”

“What… does that have to do with anything?”

“I’m curious! Because I’m like a cat!” Shubble grinned as if the answer was obvious.

Myth stared at her, then grumbled, “I’m missing something here, but I don’t care enough to ask.”

He did, however, feel a stab of reluctance as they climbed the stairs cut into the cliffside. He quickly shut away the emotions tied to his memory of his old home, including how he himself had destroyed the church during his maddened-wither hunt for Smajor.

Shubble continued to lead the way, heading for a tower with a large sign reading ‘Hero’ down the side. Myth rolled his eyes. When she pushed the door open, he stopped and regarded the door frame with more than a little distrust. “I’ll wait out here. Not enough room for my wings.” He lifted his middle pair and fluffed up the feathers to demonstrate. In reality, he was preparing to take flight if necessary – hostile flyer defenses or not.

Shubble shrugged and stepped inside. “Hey, Sausage, there you are! Take a break from studying maps, will ya? I met someone who needs our help finding a bad guy. He’s right outside!” Her tone seemed overly cheerful. Myth took a few steps back and braced himself to hear a copy of his own voice…if not less gruff.

“Okay, you’re right. I should take a break. I’m just still trying to find the best place for that… trap…” The voice of the gravital version of Sausage trailed off as he followed Shubble outside and his gaze landed on Myth.

Shubble ran over to stand beside the cursed angel. “Hey, so, you never told me you had a dark and brooding twin brother!”

“Y-Yeah, I don’t!” A clicking sound came from Sausage’s exosuit as he switched polarity modes. “Shub, get away from him, NOW!”

“What? B-But he only looks scary,” she protested. “Give him a chance to explain—”

“Shub, move. I know who he is.”

Myth gritted his teeth and let his lip curl upward. Was this the version he had met in the limbo dimension, from before he had become a seraph? Where was his Scott, then?

Wait, no, Shubble had said Scott was a vampire. That other Scott had been a merling at the time. Then who was—

Myth was in the process of blinking from realization when suddenly Sausage was up close with an extraordinary grip of one hand on the cursed angel’s throat, a blast of gravi carrying them both away from Shubble until Myth was shoved up against one of the wooden pillars of the church. A storm cloud rapidly formed overhead, discharging a lightning bolt into the ground at Myth’s feet a moment later.

Myth let his wings droop and raised empty hands with fingers spread to show his sword was out of reach. “Ah. It’s you. Okay, well, here’s me surrendering because I can’t compete with you and your collection of ten powers.”

“What are you doing here?!” the superhero demanded. “How did you get here?! That trans-dimensional summoner version said he wouldn’t ‘bother’ you again! I should hope he didn’t change his mind to start disrupting other people’s universes!”

“It wasn’t him. It felt different. And I didn’t ask to be here! Just like I didn’t ask to be dragged into that fight at Sanctuary!”

“Which one?!” Sausage retorted. “Against that villain version, or that other angel?!”

Myth narrowed his eyes then lowered his voice almost to a growl. “My quarrel is with him alone. As long as you don’t start spewing garbage about saving my soul, we can either work together or go our separate ways, because I don’t have time to debate good and evil. I wasn’t the only one brought here from my world. I need to—” He then swore. “Or I have to assume he was also dropped here, and not some other universe.”

Myth swore again more quietly. Shubble came over and put a hand on Sausage’s elbow as if she might try to pull his arm away. “Sausage, please calm down. He said he was protecting his world from two monsters, and one of them is loose here!”

Casting a defeated glance at the ground, Myth corrected her sullenly, “Might be here. I guess I can’t guarantee he ended up in the same world as me. But I can at least try to look and then figure out… something.” His expression became pensive, then he raised his eyes to them. “Do you happen to know the location of an Ancient City in the Deep Dark?”

Sausage gave him a puzzled look, but Shubble piped up, “Yeah, I’ve seen one while traveling through the ground!”

“Good,” Myth murmured, “Then I have a backup plan.”

“Whatcha gonna find down there that could help?” Shubble asked. “There’s nothing but Wardens down there! And maybe some sculkborn.”

“Listen to me when I advise you to not go anywhere near the portal, ever,” Myth replied. He shifted his gaze to Sausage. “So, hero, I know what your powers are all about. Anything I should know about your Scott? Mine doesn’t have any powers, but don’t count him out. He can be tricky and violent given the slightest chance. He has been acting peaceful lately – aside from mouthing off – but he is not to be trusted.”

“I think I’ll keep that information to myself for now, thank you.”

“Fine. And how about letting me go, gravital with the strength of a giant who can zap me with lightning in a split second anyway?”

Sausage hesitated. Shubble patted his arm. “My instincts say we can trust him. Come on, let him go. You know I’m not a pushover, either!”

The superhero loosened his fingers, then sighed and stepped back. He then gently scolded her, “You’re supposed to stick to the night watch.”

“He was wandering around near my house! And I thought he was you! Was I supposed to ignore him?”

“No, but you could have gotten hurt. It’s not as safe for you during the day.”

Shubble gave a teasing grin. “You’re worrying too much again~”

Myth eyed the cloud that lingered overhead then crossed his arms. “Please don’t tell me you two…”

“She’s my sidekick!” Sausage blurted out. “Uh, teammate.” He looked chagrined.

Shubble, meanwhile, laughed. “That’s a big leap of logic there, Myth. We’re just teammates against the forces of evil! He’s not my type, anyway.”

Sausage spluttered for a second, then coughed. "Moving on from that topic, we should start looking for your… monster?”

“My version of Scott. I guess I didn’t make that clear,” Myth disparaged. “I think you got distracted not wanting me to know all the powers yours has.”

“Well, he’s been running around as a vampire for months and not even using any of his other powers, so it doesn’t really matter,” Sausage said in a stilted tone. “We don’t have to worry about him as much during the day, so if we locate yours before nightfall, we won’t even have to worry about him getting involved. If you want to come inside the hero headquarters and look at the maps, we can make a search plan. You and I can fly, Shubble can look while phasing through the ground.” He put a hand to his chin in thought. “Maybe we can enlist some allies along the way.”

He turned and walked back toward the white tower. Shubble smiled ruefully. “He’s gone into strategy mode. He gets like that all the time now. Kinda been a thing since our Scott went evil.”

“Well,” Myth said with an acerbic tone, “At least he seems interested in catching him instead of just killing him.” He folded his wings in tightly to fit through the doorway.

Shubble stared after him. A mix of sympathy and concern began to well up inside her.

~*~

Smajor moved quickly but quietly through the dark oak forest, shivering from the cold of his still-wet clothes combined with the constant darkness created by the dense canopy. He hoped he could find some type of shelter before a skeletal archer or zombie spotted him. There was plenty of shade to protect them from the sun, after all.

Being without powers was bad enough, but not having a chance to get armor or weapons made his freedom feel a little bittersweet.

He had felt relieved when he woke up and hadn’t seen Myth anywhere nearby. There was no doubt in his mind that the cursed angel would slay him again to keep him down and out until he had a way to cage him. This was not their world – something about the air felt off, and it wasn’t because he had become accustomed to living at bedrock level.

Maybe the shade was even a blessing so his eyes could adjust. He had to admit, the fresh air really was wonderful. He was almost tempted to stop and lay on the grass for a while. With all the trees Myth wouldn’t be able to spot him from the air, anyway…

Those thoughts were shoved from his mind as he heard someone moving behind him. Not a rattle of bones, or zombie groan, but some presence was there—

Not Myth. Myth would have already rushed him, or said something, even if the dense trees hindered his wings.

Smajor saw a brief flutter at the edge of his vision.

Whoever it happened to be was also too small to be Myth.

Then he heard his own voice from somewhere behind him say, “Ah, what’s this? I smell a poor, lost little human. I could go for a snack right about now…”

Smajor froze; a conniving smirk then spread across his face. He braced himself and didn’t even flinch when clawed fingers grabbed onto his arms, then one of the hands grasped the top of his head to tilt it and expose his neck. He waited until he felt a breath against his skin to speak, putting on an exaggerated frightened tone. “Oh, no! Not a big, scary vampire sucking my blood! Whatever will I do??”

“What in the Nether—?” came the response. The fingers gripping his hair let go, then moved back to his arm to spin him around.

Smajor smirked back at the red-eyed, white-haired and dapperly-dressed version of himself. “Hello, other me. Looks like I was right about a family reunion.”

“Is this some kind of joke? What are you – a shapeshifter? Why that form? Cyan hair? And what did you do, fall in a river?” The vampire version of Scott then narrowed his eyes as he demanded with accusation, “How did you even know I was here?!”

“I didn’t. You see, I’m a bit lost. I’m from a different universe.” Smajor held out his hands to mime some motions as he went on to explain, “I was picked up from my home and transported here. I don’t know where ‘here’ is, but I figured I might run into a different version of myself. Not the first time it’s happened. The other one I met was a fish, and then later he showed up as a sparkly dandy who could call down meteors.”

For half a second Scott looked startled at the mention of fish, then dug his fingers into Smajor’s arms again. “What are you, then? You smell human.”

Smajor shrugged despite the sharp fingernails poking through the fabric of his shirt. “It turns out that in my world after a certain number of deaths the magic that bestows powers stops working. Now I’m just a boring old immortal. But you—” He smiled greedily. “—You’re only one death in, from the looks of you. Savor it while you can – over a hundred gets tedious after a while.”

Scott released him to look him over; hearing that he possibly had no abilities made the vampire assume he could overpower him in an instant if he made any suspicious moves. “Well, you’re wrong about one thing. I haven’t died yet.”

“You’re a vampire,” Smajor said flatly. “That kind of automatically makes you dead – undead, as it were.” He kept his stance casual but an idea had taken over most of his mind and he was itching to pitch it to his double.

“…I can hear your heartbeat speeding up. Are you afraid of something?”

“The person who caused me to die so many times is probably here, too. I won’t lie, he makes me nervous – even if I’m already depowered, he keeps proving he won’t hesitate to kill me again. The rules of your world might work differently, so this time I might die permanently if he catches me.”

“This is getting elaborate if you turn out to be a shapeshifter. Who might this killer of yours be, and what does he look like?”

Smajor gave a cold smile. “I call him Myth. He’s currently an angel again. Have you ever seen a seraph before? Ridiculous number of wings and grossly overpowered – although, he doesn’t seem to have access to holy fire anymore, and his wings are covered in weird goop. He’s very grouchy-looking. I doubt you’ll miss him. He might even mistake you for me, so be careful.��

Scott’s expression became troubled and he turned away for a second to contemplate this development.

Smajor watched him carefully. “You might know a version of him named Sausage.”

When the vampire’s face changed to be startled by the revelation, Smajor lunged and grabbed him, then leaned in close to breathe on Scott’s neck and hiss into his ear, “But maybe you can help me get powers again. You wanted a snack? Help yourself – but make sure you turn me before you’re through.”

Scott seemed almost too calm as he shifted his head enough to get Smajor within his line of sight. Smajor abruptly felt his body lock up and his eyes had to refocus as he found himself getting tunnel vision. Scott easily removed the overzealous human’s hands from his arms then stepped away. “I’ll consider it,” he answered, sounding unimpressed. “I’m not just an average vampire, so I don’t know what the full effect might be. I’ve never turned anyone before.”

Smajor tried to twitch his fingers but no part of his body would respond. “What – What did you do to me?? Th-This isn’t how my powers worked when I was a vampire!”

“You’ve underestimated the type of world you ended up in. I have more than just the powers of a vampire.” Scott walked around him and trailed his fingertips across Smajor’s throat. “So, you might be getting in over your head if I try to turn you. There’s no guarantee you’ll get only vampire abilities. Are you sure you want to risk it?”

Smajor followed his double with his eyes – getting a very close view of his fangs due to the tunnel effect – until he had passed behind him. “Yes,” he insisted, nearly snarling. “I’d do anything to have powers again. I can’t stand Myth lording it over me that he won simply because my list ran out.”

“We’ll make an experiment out of it,” Scott said, smiling as he walked back into view. “But not here. We’ll make our way under the cover of the shadows to my home, and that way if anything goes horribly wrong, I’ll do you the honor of burying you where your grave can serve as a warning to others if they get too close to my lands.”

The effect on his vision disappeared; Smajor cautiously took one step forward just to make sure his body could also still move. With a smug smirk, he replied, “Lead the way.”

[ Chapter Two ]

[straightupgeek]

Fanfic: Dream Girl

One-Shot

By: straight_up_geek_

A/n- This is my headcanon about what prompted Heather to read Gwen's diary out loud in "Not Quite Famous."

*~*~*~*~*

Heather's entire body ached from yesterday's dodgeball tournament, and her head still pounded from the "awake-a-thon." She was relieved they had two days off so she could finally catch up on some well-needed beauty rest.

During dinner, Lindsay sat next to her and tried to follow her around afterward. Heather wasn't having it. She only needed that dumb blonde for challenges, after all. At least Beth was more tolerable. But not by much.

Now, Heather was in desperate need of a long, hot shower. It was only the beginning of the second week at camp, and she had already had enough of the rusty bathroom floors and stained walls. And that wasn't even the worst part—nothing but a thin curtain separated her and whoever happened to be standing in the bathroom right next to the shower at the time. If only she had her phone to contact her parents and tell them to rescue her from this hellhole.

As Heather passed the 'Killer Bass's' cabin on her way to the communal restrooms, she heard a faint melody coming from the dock. She furrowed her eyebrows and tiptoed towards the music.

There, she spotted Trent strumming on his guitar next to the moonlit lake. Heather absentmindedly smiled. If any guy had caught her eye on the island, it was him.

Heather thought Trent was cute from day one. Maybe it was his dark hair and green eyes that captured her attention—or his smooth voice. Something about him hit a soft spot deep inside of her. Trent made her want to be noticed by a guy. And no, not in the same way Duncan "noticed" her the second she arrived at Camp Wawanakwa. Heather was used to that behavior from the boys at her high school. Their infatuation with her made it too easy to use them for homework or lunch money.

Heather had all the confidence in the world. She was the most popular girl at school. She could walk up to Trent, compliment him a few times, and they'd be dating by tomorrow. She was Heather Wilson. She could get any guy she wanted. Tonight, she wanted the cute and mysterious guitar boy.

"Hey," Heather said as she walked up behind him.

Trent jumped, his playing coming to an abrupt stop. "Oh god, you scared me," he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Sorry," she cringed, sitting next to him. "I just heard you playing, and I thought you sounded really good."

"Really?" He carefully sat his guitar to the side.

"Duh," Heather laughed. She slipped off her flip-flops and swung her feet over the lake water. "I doubt anyone else here can play guitar like that."

A smile formed on Trent's face. "Thanks. I've never really played in front of anyone but my family, so I'm glad you liked it," he chuckled.

"What song was that? You one you were just playing."

"Well," Trent laughed bashfully, "it's an original. I'm planning on playing it once I muster up enough courage."

Heather puckered her lips in thought. If she could gain Trent's trust, she could have a reliable alliance and get the guy. "Want a second opinion before you show everyone else?" She twirled her hair.

"Oh, uh, I'm not sure if you'll like it. I haven't finished it yet."

"Hey, a good song is a good song," said Heather. "And I think you have the perfect amount of talent to pull anything off."

Trent took a deep breath. "Alright, I'll play it. But don't say I didn't want you." He picked up his guitar.

"I won't even need to," Heather giggled.

Trent laughed, his cheeks turning red as he started playing:

"They say that we've only got summer,

And I say that's really a bummer.

But we'll swim in the sun and have lots of fun..."

"...Yeah, that's all I got," Trent cringed. "I was just messing around with some chords and lyrics."

Heather blinked, surprised by the song's content. If anything, she thought his music would be about how badly he wanted to go home. That's what she would've written about, anyway. "Wow, that was really good. It sounds like you have someone special in mind."

Trent covered his burning face. "Crap, is it that obvious?"

"Kinda," Heather teased, flicking a lone pebble into the water. "Who's the lucky girl?"

"Well—argh, I'm not too comfortable telling anyone right now."

Heather felt her heart pound like a drum in her chest. "Is she at this camp?"

"Yeah," Trent admitted, scratching his neck. "That's the only clue you get, though," he smiled coyly.

Heather was an expert at reading body language—or at least she was pretty sure she was. And Trent's body language right now told her that he was sitting right next to his crush and felt too nervous to confess. "Well, I'm sure that girl feels the same way about you. If she doesn't, she must be crazy."

"I don't know." He looked up at the stars. "I'm just afraid I'll do something to screw it up, and I'll totally turn her off."

"Wanna hear my opinion?" She asked, crossing her legs.

"—Maybe?" Trent flinched.

"Don't worry, it's a compliment," Heather laughed as she gazed at him. She studied his facial features up close. He had a smooth, defined jawline, and the dimples on his cheeks looked like moon craters. "I think the guitar is a turn-on. Any guy with a talent like that would never get rejected."

"You think I should go for it?"

"It would be stupid not to."

"Ok," Trent nodded. "Oh man, I'm really gonna do this, huh? All I have to do now is finish the song. Thanks for all the compliments, Heather," he gently touched her shoulder. "You made me feel so much better about this."

Shivers danced up Heather's spine at the touch of his hand. She wished he would just admit that he liked her right now. "Of course. It was no problem," she replied. "I guarantee it'll go well."

"I hope you're right," he swallowed nervously. "I think she might actually be my dream girl. I've never met anyone like her."

Biting her lip, Heather scooted a little closer to him. "Wow, it must feel like a movie to meet her in the most non-romantic place ever."

"Oh yeah," Trent laughed. "It's so bizarre. It's like I've been waiting for her all my life." He smacked his hand on his forehead. "Why am I telling you this? I'm sure you don't wanna hear it."

"No, it's fine. I do," said Heather. This must've been his way of subtly telling her.

"Yeah?" He grinned sheepishly. "It's a little embarrassing, but it's nice to have someone here to talk to about this. I don't trust most of the guys to keep quiet about this. Especially Owen. I love the dude, but man, he can be a loudmouth sometimes."

Heather fought hard not to roll her eyes to the back of her head at the mention of the big guy. Owen was one of the biggest banes of her existence on the island, but she knew she wouldn't have any luck trying to vote him off. He was already ridiculously popular. "I agree with you," she told him. "None of those losers knows how to keep their mouths shut."

Trent gave her an awkward, crooked smile. "I wouldn't call them losers, but I get what you mean. I can't have any alone time during the day with them around."

"Oh? Was I bothering you, then?" Heather feigned guilt, slightly moving away.

"No!" Trent blurted, frantically shaking his head. "You weren't bothering me at all! It's just the guys. I'm happy you showed interest in my music. Don't worry about it."

Heather smiled as her plan to evoke sympathy worked. "Ok. Thanks. But I totally get why you need alone time. The people here are just—getting on my last nerve. Except you." She made her way back next to him, inching even closer this time.

"Well, ha, that's a relief," he said, flustered.

Heather knew she had to make the first move. Maybe he hasn't had his first kiss yet. Luckily, she had plenty of experience. Slowly leaning in, she placed her hand on top of his. Trent followed her lead, almost in a trance.

Heather shut her eyes and connected their lips. She felt Trent thread his fingers through her long hair and pressed herself further onto him. His other hand rested on her waist as they continued kissing, forgetting the world around them.

Trent suddenly pulled away after a moment or two. Heather blinked, knocked out of her daze. He ashamedly turned away from her and grabbed the neck of his guitar. "Um," he cleared his throat, "I better get back to the cabin. It's getting late."

"—Ok," Heather nodded, a frown forming on her face. Trent gave her a curt smile before speed-walking back to the boy's side of the Screaming Gopher's cabin.

Heather didn't know how to react. No guy had ever run off like that after he kissed her. She touched her lips. Did her breath smell bad? Was he just nervous? She figured it was the latter.

After a few more minutes of listening to the frogs and crickets, Heather showered and got ready for bed. The sucky thing was she couldn't sleep. She was thankful their kiss wasn't on live tv with the rest of the show. She couldn't imagine how embarrassing that would be. Everyone at school would make fun of her for the next two years until they graduated.

But Trent's reaction didn't mean that he didn't like her, right? It had to be nerves. He obviously wanted her. Why else would he play her that romantic song? Who else could be pretty enough to be his dream girl?

*~*~*~*~*

The following day, Heather sat down next to Lindsay and Beth with a tray of what Chef Hatchet called "pancakes." Grimacing, she poked and prodded at her food.

"What do you think tomorrow's challenge is gonna be?" Beth asked with her mouth full.

"Oooh, I think it should be a makeup contest!" Lindsay squealed.

"That would be so cool!"

As usual, Heather wasn't paying any attention to their chattering. She did, however, have her eye on Trent, who was carrying his plate to the seat at the other end of the table.

Heather held her breath, hoping he'd notice her and ask her to talk somewhere in private after breakfast. Then he would confess, and they'd start an unstoppable couples' alliance. Heather also thought having a boyfriend would gain the audience's attention and favor. And if she and Trent didn't work out, she could always start relying on Lindsay and Beth again.

Trent didn't even look at Heather. Instead, he sat next to Gwen and offered her a muffin. "Look what I got you," he playfully told her.

Gwen's cheeks flushed pink. "Thanks, Trent. But I thought this would be a one-time thing. Can't you get in trouble for that?"

"I have no idea, but I don't care. It's worth it for you," he smiled dreamily at her.

"Well, thanks again." Gwen took the muffin, her eyes locked on his.

Heather watched their interaction and knew. She knew she wasn't the dream girl he spoke of last night. She knew he ran off after kissing her because he regretted it. She knew the guy she liked didn't like her back.

"Heather?" Lindsay's voice took her out of her thoughts. "Do you think sparkly lipgloss or bumble gum pink lipstick goes better with my skin tone? Beth told me her opinion, but she thinks I should get another."

Outraged and embarrassed, Heather shot daggers at the girls next to her. "Do you two ever shut up?!"

Lindsay and Beth cowered, and everyone else in the cafeteria stared at Heather, startled. Heather saw the concern painted on Trent's face, so she faked a laugh. "Sorry, I'm just SO tired today. I should get some more sleep before tomorrow's challenge!"

The campers awkwardly went back to their conversations. Heather sighed in relief. That was a close one. Trent almost hated her. She wondered why she cared so much about his opinion of her when he clearly liked the weird goth girl.

"Heather, do you need Lindsay's special spa treatment?" Beth gently asked.

"No," she scoffed. "I'm not hungry. I'm going back to the cabin."

"Alright," Beth gave her an overly broad, submissive grin.

Heather stormed out of the cafeteria. She slammed the cabin door, climbed up her bunk, and angrily screamed into her pillow. Uncontrollable tears streamed down her face.

It wasn't fair. Was Gwen just better than her? Heather couldn't understand why Gwen was an outcast but could easily make friends and attract boys. Heather remembered being completely friendless from age eleven to fourteen, back when she was the outcast. Why did Gwen get to be herself and have friends when she had to change so much just to fit in?

Eventually, Heather stopped crying. The girls would be back from breakfast any minute, and she needed to wash her face—STAT! The last thing Heather wanted was for them to see her at her weakest point. That wasn't good for winning reality shows or making people like you.

While Heather splashed cold water onto her face, she devised a plan. They'd be live tomorrow, and whatever challenge Chris made them do, she'd figure out how to ensure that Gwen felt embarrassed. And maybe, just maybe, she could get Trent to like her.

[the-great-anteater]

Have you noticed Leonard's birdhouse was there only a short amount of time?

I feel like keeping pigeons was his hobby before he joined the army, basically one of the few good things he had in that house after his parents got murdered. And when he came back, it was gone.

Can you imagine him, first days at home after the injury, still unable to go outside and most definitely on crutches. He has gone through a lot in 4 years of war. And at Rusty Lake everything is... the same? Like yeah, Rose has grown up, etc, but Albert still looks down at him.

And he just stands in the living room, smokes a cigarette and looks at the window.

– How many times I told you not to smoke inside? - says Albert harshly, not even looking at him.

Leonard doesn't react. He drags on a cigarette heavily, and then asks

– Where are my pigeons, uncle?

– Huh?

– Before I left, I asked you and Rose to take care of them. Now I can't even see a birdhouse. Where are they?

For the first time ever he sees Albert confused. Maybe sorry even - but Leonard knows his uncle enough not to believe that.

– Sorry, - unexpectedly says Albert, - I'm not good with birds - not the living ones for sure. They flew away, like, in a year you left. And the birdhouse was useless, so I disassembled it.

– Why?

– Why wouldn't I? Why would I need a useless thing in my yard?

Albert shrugs and just walks away, leaving him in burdensome silence.

At that moment Leonard realised he was never wanted back alive.

[free-for-all-fics]

Obscure Characters List - Male Edition

Obscure Characters I love for some reason. (By obscure I mean characters that have little to no fanfic written about them. Not necessarily characters nobody’s ever heard of.) Don’t ask me to explain why.

A

Abraham Alastor/Anthony Clarke (Dark Pictures Little Hope)

Adam (Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter)

Adam (Hallmark Frankenstein 2004)

Al Capone (Night at the Museum)

Alan McMichael (Crimson Peak)

Alec Fell (Nancy Drew, The Silent Spy)

AM (I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream)

Amphibian Man/The Asset (Shape of Water)

Anthony Walsh (Blood Fest)

Anton Herzen (Professor Layton and the Diabolical Box)

Ardeth Bay (Mummy series)

Armand (Queen of the Damned 2002)

Armando Salazar (Pirates of the Caribbean 5)

B

Barnaby (Sabrina Down Under)

Baron Humbert von Gikkingen (The Cat Returns)

Baron Meinster (Brides of Dracula)

Beast/Hank McCoy (X-Men, Kelsey Grammer version)

Beast/Prince (Beauty and the Beast 2014)

Ben Willis (I Know What You Did Last Summer)

Bernard the elf (Santa Clause series)

Black Phillip (The VVitch)

Blade (Puppetmaster series)

Bughuul (Sinister 1 and 2)

C

Caliban/John Clare (Penny Dreadful)

Captain Frederick Wentworth (Persuasion)

Captain James Hook (Peter Pan 2003)

Cedric Brown (Nanny McPhee)

Christian Thompson (Devil Wears Prada)

Colonel William Tavington (The Patriot)

Cornelis Sandvoort (Tulip Fever)

Crown Prince Ryand'r/Darkfire (DC comics/Teen Titans)

D

Daniel Le Domas (Ready Or Not)

Death (Final Destination series)

Dimitri Allen (Professor Layton and the Unwound Future)

Dimitri Denatos (Mom’s Got a Date With a Vampire)

Dustfinger (Inkheart)

Dr. Alexander Sweet/Dracula (Penny Dreadful)

Dr. Gregory Butler (Happy Death Day 1 & 2)

Dr. Manhattan (Watchmen)

Driller Killer (Slumber Party Massacre 2)

E

Edward Gracey (Haunted Mansion 2003) 

Edward Mordrake (Urban Legend/American Horror Story Asylum)

Edward/Eddie “Tex” Sawyer (Texas Chainsaw Massacre 3)

Elemer of the Briar (Elden Ring)

Erik Carriere (Phantom of the Opera 1990)

Ethan (Pilgrim 2019)

F

Father Gascoigne (Bloodborne)

Faustus Blackwood (Chilling Adventures of Sabrina)

Fegan Floop (Spy Kids trilogy)

Fox Mask/Tom (You’re next)

G

George Knightley (Emma)

Ghost/Mitch (Haunt 2019)

Godskin Apostle (Elden Ring)

Godwyn the Golden (Elden Ring)

Gold Watchers (Dark Deception)

Greg (Bodies, Bodies, Bodies)

Grim Matchstick (Cuphead)

Gurranq Beast Clergyman (Elden Ring)

H

Henry Jekyll/Edward Hyde (Broadway, Rob Evan version)

Henry Sturges (Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter)

Hugh Crain (Haunting of Hill House, the book and 1963 film. Not the Flanagan show or 1999 movie remake)

Hugo Butterly (Nancy Drew, Danger by Design)

I

Ingemar (Midsommar)

J

Jack Ferriman (Ghost Ship)

Jack Worthing/Uncle Jack (We Happy Few)

Jafar (Once Upon a Time, not the Wonderland spin-off)

Jan Valek (John Carpenter’s Vampires)

Jefferson "Seaplane" McDonough/Alex (Jumanji 2 and 3)

Jervis Tetch/Mad Hatter (Arkhamverse! Video Games)

Jester (Puppetmaster series)

John (He’s Out There)

Joseph “Joey” Mallone (Blackwell series)

Juan (The Forever Purge)

Juno Hoslow, Knight of Blood (Elden Ring)

K

Kalabar (Halloweentown)

Kenneth Haight (Elden Ring)

Killer Moth/Drury Walker (Teen Titans)

King Paimon (Hereditary)

L

Lamb Mask/Craig (You’re next)

Lamplighter (The Boys)

Launder Man (Crypt TV)

Lawrence “Larry” Gordon (Saw series)

Loki (Apsulov: End of Gods)

Lucifer (Devil’s Carnival 1 & 2)

M

Magic Mirror (Snow White 1937/Shrek)

Man in the Mask (The Strangers)

Manon (The Craft)

Man-Thing (Marvel’s Werewolf By Night)

Marco Polo/Merman (Crypt TV)

Marcus Corvinus (Underworld series)

Markus Boehm (Nancy Drew, the Captive Curse)

Mephistopheles (Faust’s Albtraum)

Micolash, Host of the Nightmare (Bloodborne)

Miquella (Elden Ring)

Mirror Man (Snow White and the Huntsman)

Mr. Crow/Aldous Vanderboom (Rusty Lake series)

Mr. Le Bail (Ready Or Not)

Mr. Slausen (Tourist Trap)

N

Nigel Billingsley (Jumanji 2 and 3)

Night’s Cavalry (Elden Ring)

Nothing (The Night House)

P

Pazuzu (The Exorcist)

Pierre Despereaux (Psych)

Prince Anton Voytek (Vampire 1974)

Prince Escalus (Romeo and Juliet, no particular adaptation)

Prince Quartus (Stardust)

Prince Septimus (Stardust)

Professor Petrie/Phantom of the Opera (Phantom of the Opera 1962)

Peter Quint (Turn of the Screw, the book and maybe some other adaptations. Not the Bly Manor Flanagan show.)

R

Reese Kelly (Scarlet Hollow)

Rene Belloq (Indiana Jones, Raiders of the Lost Ark)

Roland Voight (Hellraiser 2022)

Ronin (Star Trek)

Rorschach (Watchmen)

Rupert Giles (Buffy the Vampire Slayer)

Rusty Nail (Joyride trilogy)

S

Salem Saberhagen (Sabrina the Teenage Witch)

Sam Wayne (Scarlet Hollow)

Silver Surfer/Norrin Radd (Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer)

Simon Jarrett (SOMA)

Sir Lancelot (Night at the Museum 3)

Sportacus (LazyTown)

Starscourge Radahn (Elden Ring)

STEM (Upgrade)

Sutter Cane (In the Mouth of Madness)

T

Thantos DuBaer (Twitches 1 and 2)

The Auditor (Hellraiser: Judgment)

The Babadook (The Babadook)

The Black Knight Ghost (Scooby Doo 2 Monsters Unleashed)

The Curator (Dark Pictures Anthology)

The Designer (Devil’s Carnival 2)

The Djinn/Nathaniel Demerest/Professor Joel Barash/Steven Verdel (Wishmaster series)

The Faun (Pan’s Labyrinth)

The Fox (The Little Prince 1974)

The Jester (The Jester, A Short Horror Film series)

The Kinderfänger (Crypt TV)

The Knight/Tarhos Kovács (Dead by Daylight)

The Look-See (Crypt TV)

The Man (Carnival of Souls)

The Merman (Cabin In The Woods)

The Metal Killer (Stage Fright 2014)

The Mirror (Oculus)

The Narrator (Stanley Parable)

The Other (Hellfest)

The Phantom (Phantom Manor)

The Projectionist (Pearl)

The T-1000/Cop (Terminator 2, Terminator Genisys)

The Tall Man/The Entity (It Follows)

The Thing (The Thing 1982)

The Torn Prince/Royce Clayton (Thirteen Ghosts remake)

The Torso/James “Jimmy” Gambino (Thirteen Ghosts remake)

Thomas Alexander “Alex” Upton (TAU)

Tiger Mask/Dave (You’re Next)

Tommy Ross (Carrie, 1976)

V

Valak (The Conjuring)

Valdack and his real world counterpart (Black Mirror)

Van Pelt (Jumanji 2)

Venable (Wrong Turn 2021)

Viktor (Underworld series)

Viktor Frankenstein/Dr. Whale (Once Upon a Time)

Vladislaus Dracula (Van Helsing 2004)

W

Wade Thornton (Nancy Drew, Ghost of Thornton Hall)

Wesley Wyndam-Pryce (Buffy the Vampire Slayer)

Westley/Dread Pirate Roberts (The Princess Bride)

Wildwind/Dark Skull, Stormy Weathers, and Lightning Strikes (Scooby Doo and the Legend of the Vampire)

“William”/The Headless Figure (Crypt TV)

William "Billy" Butcherson (Hocus Pocus 1 and 2)

X

Xenan the Centaur (Xena Warrior Princess)

[strangestcase]

im writing rusty lake fanfic hehehe

[seagullcharmer]

fanfic end of the year ask game. 3. 14. 25.

3. favorite line / scene you wrote this year

this one's just a silly snippet from a linkverse chatfic i'm theoretically writing but:

forest gremlin (not starlight): hello everyone. does anyone have tips for getting younger siblings to stop climbing you like a tree? #1 big brother: lol nope! you just gotta deal with it wild child: i’ve literally never had that problem. i am too short 😔😔😔 wild child: wish i did tho. i love kids 🥰 herding GOATs: bribe them with something else  herding GOATs: or make an escape and climb a bigger tree where they can’t follow you forest gremlin (not starlight): thank you firefly for being the only helpful link in this chat <3 herding GOATs: 👌 forest gremlin (not starlight): nvm forgot that we’re all forest children here. these kids have been climbing trees longer than i’ve been alive sleepyhead: lmao throw ‘em like a remlit

in contrast, this exchange:

Zanza turned his head, hair obscuring his face. “Does it matter? I have long been forgotten. I have committed unforgivable acts. Even you were going to betray me, were you not, my child?” Alvis shifted. “I could never disobey an order, sir.”

14. a fic you didn't expect to write

i haven't written much this year, but i guess i didn't expect to update her becoming?? also wrote a little bit for rusty lake roots, which was a surprise

25. a fic you read this year you would recommend everyone read

the artificial aegis project forever and ever!!!! but i will also always shamelessly plug soup and to be a sword . and since i'm currently rereading it, also my favourite botw/aoc fic honey nut. i think i've already read it twice this year.

[nightmareofthelake]

Hello!

My name is Rain but I also go by Lake sometimes. I identify as non-binary and I'm fine with every pronoun!

I used to be a creepypasta kid and was obsessed with horror to an unhealthy amount. Today I still enjoy horror but tend to stay away from too much gore and concentrate more on paranormal/creature horror.

My favorite color is green, I really like jellyfish and I'm lactose intolarant.

I like collecting stuff (jewelry, dolls, DVDs, CDs,...)

Asks are always welcome!

My fandoms:

The Magnus Archives/The Magnus Protocol

Watcher Entertainment (Mostly Ghost Files and Puppet History)

Monster High

Rusty Lake

Masterlists

[FanFics]