#resident lover cinder

[cycian]

Early Lives Eternal updates, with RL's Dev's OCs memes as The Cult™️ makes their grand entrance in this chapter.

Beelzebub is somehow more merciful than Miranda.

The Pookie keeping the circus in check

Finch lives for the drama and is just kinda here for a good time.

MJ has their priorities in check.

[rizariart]

Posting this WAY after I’ve finished it cause uh…I got distracted by Pokémon Shield and my partner spoiling me with ULTRAKILL and Cult of the Lamb + All DLC

(I also got distracted by Elden Ring lol)

Anyway uh, @resident-lover here’s Cinder. Idk who I’m doing next, so that’s going to be a surprise. The glowing eyes might stay across all pieces at this point…

I couldn’t decide on the lighting so this piece has 2 variants lol

[h-doodles]

truly not sorry but once again thinking abt miranda/mc/mia in RL. i need them SO bad. like, 2 of the most morally unsound persons (Mia & Miranda) + their little meow meow. Knowing both are so possessive and destructive (TO OTHERS) when they love and instead of running, fully embracing the chaos of it. Loving them despite their delusions of grandeur, the crimes, the secrets, and the deaths (+ undeaths) caused (or ordered!) by their hands. Acknowledging this is fucked up but you can't help it. Lovingly bitching abt their fights but fully done and gone to do anything else but to soothe and continue loving them, because after all those years of waiting and doing and redoing everything to be perfect was worth it for this.

also did i mention being their little meow meow. sorry Miranda, MC was the original gremlin in the relationship and Mia being the fucked up feral racoon she is now is not solely by her doing, MC was and IS the enabler in both relationships that it bled over sm and OUGHJJJJJHHHHhhhh im being so emo abt three (3) women being utter menaces frfr

[isas-bathbombs]

bela fans are resting so well tonight

[shortstrawberry]

Live reactions after reading the lore doc:

[team-avia]

Hi, so I was wondering, is Feather the MC's name pre reincarnation or is that another nickname like little crow? I have so many questions lol but I'll stick to one.

It's a nickname like little crow.

Arla

[h-doodles]

listen. if your boss is so mean to everyone else and you havent quit and people see you are able to withstand their temper AND be softer (or atleast be able to snark back at her) then sorry but you will def be assigned fubu's on main

EVERYONE THINKS MIRANDA AND MC ARE HAVING AN AFFAIR SOEHFIVISKWJRJCJXJSJEBXJSJEBBD

[zeleneagle]

Resident lover meme compilation pt3

(feat. Cinder)

Featuring a little edit of Cinder as a bonus

[porcelainseashore]

Into the Ether (8)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Vampire! Toreador! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader

Summary: At the all-night events cafe you run, you’ve become acquainted with an elusive patron, Leon, though you can never remember the last moments of your interactions together. After a harrowing encounter, a love-hate relationship develops between the two of you as you grapple with your newfound status in a world of darkness and investigate the reasons behind the untimely attacks.

Content & Warnings: 18+ Resident Evil x Vampire: The Masquerade crossover, horror, mystery, romance, slow burn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, eventual smut, swearing, smoking, alcohol, drug references, non consensual blood drinking, blood bond, vampire turning, violence, injury, mild gore, torture, religious themes, minor character death, RE ensemble, VtM concepts.

Author's Note: Implied torture and mild gore ahead.

Taglist: @admirxation @angelstargel @miss-oranje-disco-dancer ❤️‍🔥

AO3 Link

Chapter 8: The Chantry

He should’ve known you would be sharp enough to pick up on his remark about the suitor back at the cafe. Damn him and his big mouth. Well, you would’ve gotten wind of it somehow anyway, especially since Wesker had put you on this case with him too.

You waited patiently for his answer, as you saw a range of emotions sweep across Leon’s face. Unlike his compatriot, Luis, he was not a great talker. You’d experienced that first hand when he tried to reveal his nature to you.

“I don’t know who he is exactly, but most likely a higher-ranking Anarch,” he divulged, eyeing you intently to gauge your reaction. “The guy wanted to use you as a way to bring the East Side under their domain.”

A bunch of mixed feelings churned within you as you lamented the fact that just when you were beginning to reach an understanding with the man, fate decided to throw another roadblock in your path. “So, you Embraced me first to prevent that,” you deduced, the hurt in your voice evident as you made the following observation, “Was I just some political tool to you?”

“No, angel—” he caught himself as he accidentally let slip his term of affection for you. “You have never been, and will never be, a tool to me.”

Reaching over, he laid his hand protectively atop yours, tracing delicate patterns across its back. To his surprise, you didn’t berate him for using that pet name, nor did you shy away from his touch. Perhaps you had given in, your fire extinguished to smoky cinders.

“You know I feel a great deal for you… and regardless of what you may think, I’ve always wanted you to have a say in your Embrace,” he reiterated undeniably.

You bit your lip, still doubtful of his words. “What would you have done if I had said no?”

There was a thoughtful pause before he replied, “Probably be devastated, but I could never force you. Not like that.”

With a bitter laugh, he commented further, “I might’ve killed that son of a bitch before he got to you though.”

All at once, you were reminded of the side that made him inhuman, talking about murder as if it were a normal part of his daily routine. It irked you, but it also comforted you that he would do anything to keep you safe.

“And risk Final Death?” you asked, wondering if he was joking, or if he really would break the last of the Traditions for you. Unless the Prince had issued a Blood Hunt on a specific individual or group of Kindred, he would be forbidden to destroy another of his kind.

“Would’ve been worth it,” he quipped under his breath, his searing gaze unabashedly roaming across your body, following every contour of your silhouette as he admired what was before him. 

You wore things differently from his sire, which was all he had ever known. When he reminisced about Ada, bold, bright reds, like a fountain of blood, flooded his mind. Blood which he drank from every Sunday, worshiping martyrs and sacrifices, up until the point he had strayed. Blood which gave him a taste of life and death, anger and passion, lust and love. Blood from a broken hymen on bleached white sheets, like the innocence he’d lost when he stepped into the underworld. Blood drained from a pig to drench him in when he was hazed, the resulting humiliation he had felt after and his reddened cheeks, just like the shame that carved out a hole within him when Ada left. His throat tightened, just like the way her clothes hugged her body like a boa constrictor.

And then there was you, in emerald greens, deep burgundies and swatches of black — duller, yet no less luminescent beneath the surface. Something he had to work for, digging to unearth the gem of humanity he had squandered away over restless nights and bouts of insomnia. Your flowy dress robes and kaftans transported him to gap year adventures under the starry skies in Morocco, sand filling your shoes, and the scorching heat on the desert breeze. He had never been, never left the city since he was turned. But he loved to imagine a future where he could travel there with you. Dancing with wild abandon, in dark kohl eyeliner and that carefree smile. God, that smile… and your fire. You could captivate him for days. He never thought he could feel so intensely for another person again, but he was wrong — and he was glad to be.

From your end, you regarded him with reservation. The love he declared for you bordered on instinctual passion and obsession, and you couldn’t decide if you found it flattering or problematic. As a Toreador by blood, would you end up like him? It was still early days, yet he treated you as if he had been pining after you for a century. You wondered if this was just a temporary, fleeting thing and he would eventually tire of you in time to come.

Almost as though he could read your mind, he broke away, avoiding eye contact with you as he apologized, “Sorry, I, uh, didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Adjusting his collar awkwardly, he cleared his throat, coming back to his senses as he uttered, “We should, um, discuss about the Tremere.”

You nodded in agreement, dabbing your palms against your forehead and cheeks, letting the coolness seep into your warm, flustered skin. “So, I’m guessing you found something?”

“Not quite,” he sighed, gently rubbing the temples at the sides of his head.

Pushing himself up off the couch, he went over to his desk, grabbed a bunch of papers, and handed them over to you. Thumbing through the sheets, you briefly scanned its contents, realizing it was a shift schedule of all the Umbrella scientists based in NEST, as well as a couple of reports, though signed under a different name from the person you were meant to get in contact with.

Ms. Rebecca Chambers. The up-and-coming Tremere prodigy who had recently returned from a stint at the Hartford Chantry, renowned for their work on mind and memory alterations. Like the rest of the clans, the Tremere were a secretive sort, and even more so. They guarded their research and activities closely within their base of operations, known as chantries. Leon had mentioned to you about their adeptness in matters of the blood or ‘Blood Sorcery’ as it was named. They had once been a group of mages who discovered immortality through undeath, though they had wrangled their power at the expense of other Kindred. No wonder Jill had called them ‘ursupers’. You didn’t like the sound of their schemes and ploys either.

“Rebecca’s not in any of the schedules, and there’s no trace of her anywhere, even though she works directly under Wesker,” he put forth. “She’s not even credited in the projects she’s meant to be researching on.”

“It’s all signed off by this guy: Glenn… Arias?” you took a shot at pronouncing his name while flicking through the pages.

“Yeah, that’s her Regent,” he pointed out. “And a jealous one at that.”

“What do you mean?” You stopped rummaging, peering at Leon with a quizzical look.

“Well, word has it that he intends to hold onto his position for as long as he’s unliving. Meaning, capable apprentices are considered a threat to be dealt with,” he expunged.

“But he can’t just make someone relatively high-profile like Rebecca disappear,” you stated, pinching your chin in a thinker’s pose. All this sleuthing reminded you of those classic black-and-white noir films from the 1940s. Pity you were missing the whiskey and cigars.

“Yes, he can,” he insisted, pacing the room like a lead detective hot on the case. “He’s already doing it now — scrubbing out her achievements, making sure she leaves an invisible trail, and hoping that she’ll be forgotten among the sea of neonates who dazzled a little too brightly.”

“And of course the fucker is taking all the credit for her work,” you sneered, disliking this guy already before you even met him.

“Looks like you and I have something in common then,” he noted with a lopsided smile. He hated the man as much as you did. “Unfortunately this leaves us with no choice. If we want to get to Rebecca, then we’ll need to go through the fucker.”

You slumped back into the couch, your weight causing the upholstery to mold to your body. “Gonna need a whiskey beforehand.”

Shaking his head as he laughed, he took a seat on the coffee table directly opposite the couch facing you. “Sure, just be prepared to throw it up an hour later.”

━━━━━━━━━━━

When nightfall came the next day, you found yourself sulking in the passenger seat of Leon’s jeep as he drove towards the northwest of Raccoon City, heading straight into Raccoon Forest. It would be several miles before you’d reach your destination. In the background, grunge rock music from one of the local radio stations played at a low volume through the car speakers. Resting your head against the window, you heard Leon humming along to the melody as he tapped the steering wheel in time with the steady beat of the track.

“Funny, didn’t take you as a rock’n’roll kinda guy,” you muttered, still peering out of the glass pane, unwilling to look at the man who you were dead certain was wearing a giant smirk on his face right now.

“Glad I can continue to surprise you then,” he answered jovially. “I was young and rebellious once you know.”

“You? A rebel? Please…” you scoffed, rolling your eyes so far back into your head you probably could’ve popped them out of your sockets if you wanted to.

Instead of replying, he belted out the chorus lyrics in his annoyingly smooth voice. Frankly, you were a little sore about your exchange earlier back at his place when he had kept his word, and allowed you to have a sip from a cask of fine French whiskey stored in his vitrine. The problem was, he didn’t tell you that it would taste like shit.

Seeing as your undead body wouldn’t be able to digest it, you were prepared to risk throwing up just to have a shot of alcohol running through your veins. However, it turned out that everything except wine would taste like ashes and dirt. You didn’t even need to force yourself to regurgitate the contents; you did it naturally, spewing it out like a spray while Leon howled with laughter. Some fucking joke that was. Asshole.

“Still pissed off, huh?” he questioned. You could sense a hint of remorse in his voice.

“Take a guess.”

You felt his fingers brush against your arm. “Hey, I’m sorry. Sometimes I get a bit carried away,” he whispered apologetically, his tone subdued, as if he was a dog who’d been chastised.

“Mm.” You pursed your lips, shrugging noncommittally.

“If you want, I can teach you how to be able to enjoy things like before,” he offered as a form of consolation. “But to experience the effects of alcohol, you’ll need to drink from the inebriated.”

Finally, you faced him to catch his midnight blue gaze, and he gave a weak smile. “Time for me to get wasted then.”

He took that as a sign that you had forgiven him, and you were back to bantering again. “No drinking on the job,” he warned.

“Yes, boss.”

With that, you turned your attention to the changing scenery outside, which blurred past your window. Gone were the city lights in the distance; you were now deep within the thicket of the forest. Tree branches shaped like claws scraped the sides of the vehicle and peculiar winged creatures flew in and out of the shadows. The only source of light was the car's beam, focused directly on the path ahead. At times, you thought you could make out pairs of glowing red eyes from the bushes in the dark surrounding you. Clutching the door armrest, you felt pinpricks of cold sweat forming on your palms, and you couldn’t wait for this segment of the journey to end.

As you reached a clearing, you saw the pale moonlight gleaming overhead through the clouded sky, its pearlescent light casting a silvery sheen across everything in sight. That’s when you spotted the imposing mansion in front of you as the car made its way up the driveway. There was a bluish tinge to its white-painted exterior, and although the building was well-kept, there was a decaying quality to it, as if it had been abandoned by its owners decades ago. You observed its towering columns and large lancet windows, noting the intricate details carved into the eaves of the roof. Who knew there was a mysterious grand manor situated in the middle of nowhere within the woods? You felt like an extra in a B-movie horror film.

After parking the car, you and Leon hopped out of the vehicle, walking over towards the main entrance of the house. Except for the sound of gravel crunching underfoot, it was eerily silent and nothing stirred. It began to dawn on you why the place was so unnerving: there was no rustling of animals or chirping of insects; it was completely devoid of life.

Spencer Mansion. So, this foreboding construct was Raccoon City’s Tremere Chantry. Perhaps there were worse clans to be part of, you ruminated.

Raising his knuckles, Leon was about to knock on the front doors when they creaked slightly ajar on their own, until a strong gust of wind materialized out of thin air, swinging them wide open as they rattled against the walls of the house. “Nice party trick,” he mumbled sarcastically.

“I heard that,” a voice boomed from the main hall.

The hallway was as opulent and musty as the building's facade, with smooth, spotless marble-tiled floors and a red carpet rolled out from the door towards the stairs. There was an elegant chandelier suspended from the vaulted ceiling, as well as decorative candle stands and sconces in every corner. Despite the multitude of light sources available, the room still seemed dimly lit.

In the center of the carpet stood a woman in a preppy tweed pantsuit, picking at her fingernails as she eyed the two of you haughtily. Even though she was alone, you had the strange sense that there were plenty of others in the room hiding in plain sight, and watching you from the shadows.

“An acolyte,” Leon whispered, making sure he was out of earshot this time.

It was just a fancy name the Tremere gave to a fledgling. Essentially, she was at the bottom rung of the pyramid, a newbie like yourself, and yet she was behaving as if she owned the entire manor.

“The Regent is waiting for you in the bar,” she informed. With a slight, dismissive wave of her hand, she indicated for you to follow her.

“Stick close to me,” Leon instructed, drawing you in until your arm bumped against the side of his chest. “You don’t want to get lost here.”

Definitely not. You’d heard about the chantry traps that the Tremere were famous for, designed to keep out both malicious entities and those unfortunate souls who had accidentally stumbled in, blissfully unaware of the nature of this place. Ending up like them would be worse than a disaster.

As you passed through the main hall, a stately set of doors on your left caught your eye. They were cracked open, and through the gap, you could see two rows of people seated opposite each other at the long cherry wood dining table. A large burlap sack, bound with rope, lay on its surface; whatever was inside squealed and kicked about. You could hear its muffled screams when suddenly, all the diners turned their heads to face you, completely expressionless.

Gasping in shock, you instinctively huddled against Leon’s body, seeking refuge from the chilling scene you had just encountered. He hooked his arm around your shoulder, allowing your head to burrow in the crook of his neck as you continued onwards. An odious grin crept over the acolyte’s face as she witnessed your reaction.

Climbing up the stairs, the whole mansion descended into a torturous maze. It was a nauseating feeling to lose all sense of direction, unable to distinguish where you were or where you were going. Each corridor looked the same; you took countless left and right turns, and it felt as if you were being led around in circles. Even your depth perception was off; objects shifted and merged, and passages stretched and compressed as you walked through them. It became increasingly difficult to judge your distance from anything in sight.

You tried to focus on the acolyte, using her as a beacon to guide you through this complex web. Although Leon was faring better than you, he too appeared to be struggling to keep up with the pace. You were ascending levels only to head back down again, no longer sure which floor of the mansion you were on. Was this some cruel joke she was playing on the two of you, or were they trying to ensure you’d never remember how to navigate a route through the building?

The next time, it was Leon who saw something unspeakable. Red light emanated from a narrow doorway at the side, and within it, a naked man was strapped to a sturdy mahogany chair. His head lolled on his chest and his frail body was bruised and battered. Pieces of his flesh had been carved out in strange shapes; some of the slabs were scattered on the floor. His festering wounds were weeping and if not for his feeble, trembling groan, Leon would have assumed he had been long dead.

“Christ, this is some sick shit,” he hissed under his breath in revulsion. You peered in the direction he had glanced at, but there was only an austere portrait hanging against a blank wall. Were the both of you going mad and imagining things?

Shaking his head, he advised, “You don’t want to go looking for it, trust me.” 

At last, the acolyte came to a stop, ushering you into a modest-sized room with checkered tile floors, reminiscent of a chessboard, and an oak bar counter at the side where a clean-cut, impeccably dressed man sat. There was a grand piano facing the bar, and Moonlight Sonata was playing on its keys despite there being no musician present at the instrument.

The room was vacant, apart from the lone person by the bar, whom you presumed was Glenn. He appeared to be a middle-aged man with graying hair and a deep scar across his left eyebrow. His long suit coat was a well-coordinated palette of grays, reds and blacks. As he imbibed the ruby red liquid in his crystal tumbler glass, a dash of it spilled out by accident, though it hovered in the air. Setting the glass down, he sucked it into his mouth with ease; his mouth twisting into a sinister smile.

“Please, make yourselves at home,” he welcomed both of you, gesturing to the unoccupied bar stools before him. Despite his mild mannerisms, his gaze was cold and calculating, honed through years of corrupt transactions and political backstabbing.

When you had settled in, the acolyte closed the door shut, leaving you with the man. It was then that he spoke up again, “There’s no need for pleasantries, so let me cut to the chase. You wish to see Ms. Chambers, yes?”

“On Prince’s orders,” Leon highlighted.

At this, Glenn laughed contemptuously, “I thought you knew better than to use threats against me, Mr. Kennedy.” He extended his gloved finger, wagging it scathingly in front of Leon’s face. “Unlike what the rest of you neonates think, the P-word doesn’t hold much weight here.”

Retracting his hand, he reiterated, “For your sake and the sake of your childe, I suggest you learn to play by my rules.”

You watched as Leon lowered his head in submission as your hatred towards Glenn grew. Were all the Tremere stuck-up assholes? You had a hunch that such behavior was largely shaped by this man himself.

“Excuse my earlier transgression, Mr. Arias,” Leon apologized rather perfunctorily. “Is there something we might offer in exchange for the inconvenience?”

“That’s more like it,” Glenn remarked, curling his finger over his lip as he nodded favorably. “Well, now that you mention it, I suppose there is.”

From under his coat, he pulled out a thin folder of documents, handing it over to Leon. “You see, for some reason, it’s been a tradition in my clan to divide the roles between Regent and Primogen, when really, they could just be handled by the same person.”

“And you want the Primogen title,” Leon surmised.

What else would he expect from a power hungry Tremere, who wanted the best of both worlds? As a Primogen, he would be considered his clan’s representative within the Prince’s Council — the first port of call the Prince would consult on various matters. That, along with being the figurehead of the Chantry, would allow him to elevate his status to what would essentially be a dictatorship within his clan.

“You said that, not me,” Glenn pointed out sneakily. “I’m merely exposing the incompetence of the current appointee.”

He tapped the documents in Leon’s hands. “Anyway, back to business. It’s quite simple, I’d like you to plant these documents in the office of the current Tremere Primogen. Discreetly, of course.”

Pausing for dramatic effect, he drummed his fingers on the counter. “And then we’ll see about your visit with Ms. Chambers.”

“What’s in them?” you questioned abruptly.

His eyes snapped sharply to you. “Oh, so she speaks!” he mocked. “Let’s put it this way, it’s enough to get her for treason.”

You were about to counter with a barbed remark when Leon cut in, talking over you, “Mr. Arias, would you be so kind as to allow my childe and me a few minutes to converse over this matter in private?”

An acerbic smirk appeared on Glenn’s face. “Of course.” He nodded slightly and took his leave.

“So you’re just gonna sit there and accept this slimy motherfucker’s offer?” you goaded, already irritated about being interrupted by your sire earlier.

“Language!” Leon hissed, reproaching you gravely. “The walls have ears.”

This only served to incense you even more, as you slammed your palm on the countertop in defiance. Glenn’s empty glass skittered across its surface, though Leon caught it just in time before it shattered onto the ground. 

“You’re condemning an innocent person to Final Death or worse!” you accused.

A dry chuckle slipped from his lips. “Innocent? No one in that sort of position, let alone this world, is innocent.”

For once, you were at a loss for words, only able to articulate how you felt about him in the moment. “You disgust me.”

“Honestly, I disgust myself at times,” he admitted rather self-deprecatingly.

Some part of you could understand that perhaps this was all he knew: lies, deceit, and shady dealings. Could you change that and make him see things from your perspective? You had to try.

Placing your hand over his, you squeezed it, peering into his brilliant blues as you reasoned, “How many compromises are you going to make until there’s nothing left in here?” You prodded his chest gently with your finger, urging him to reflect on what made him human.

“I—” He scrunched up his face, a tormented expression blooming across it as he turned away, unable to look you in the eye. “I-I can’t…” His voice was pinched and strained, as if it would hurt him to utter any more words.

“This is just how it works in the Kindred world,” he asserted, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

Your anger dissipated into pure disappointment, weighing like a stone in your heart. “Keep telling yourself that,” you stated simply as you let him go, resigning yourself to your original position. Coward, you denounced internally.

As if on cue, you heard three sharp knocks on the door before Glenn came back in. “So?” he questioned, glancing over at the two of you in anticipation.

Leon’s features stiffened as he met the man’s gaze head-on. “We accept.”

[novankenn]

What If...

Pyrrha was also under the sway of Salem Cinder and Pyrrha love each other (Pompeii)

Scene : Beach of the EverAfter / Paper Pleasers Village

==> @soundkiller0017 What if Pyrrha destroys the paper pleaser village in a anger attack (beacuse she realise that she traded a really good live for a one in survice to a Queen that disent care of her and a manipulative lover) and after destroying the village she is met by a ROYALY PISS, ANGRY AND MERCILLES Jaune, Neo and Team RWBY who would give her a fate worse than death.1Hide replies

==> @watcher-servant The betrayer Spartan had stayed there... left in thought of what just happened. So with strain, she picked up her spear and walked on as much as she could. Coming upon a village, one so fragile so peaceful it only raged her all of this felt like a slap to her choices. So what did she do..she raged the peaceful village she came upon she destroyed...only when she stopped when she realized what she done, she would see a familiar umbrella appear before and it's holder looking very disappointed as a loud and very familiar yell is heard.

==> A/N - No redemption for the Spartan? You all REALLY seem set on me offing this Pyrrha! ==> A/N - In this version... Only Jaune and Pyrrha "fell", though I will do an OMAKE with Neo and RWBY also "falling" in a later post.

She had no idea how much time had past since she found herself near death upon this small stretch of sandy beach. Weeks? Months? Days just ran into each other, as she attempted to heal, and regain her original strength. She felt alone, yet she wasn't. She found herself at odd times seeing things, most notably the wraith of Cinder standing in the shadows of the forest edge. Gesturing for her to follow.

Then there was the more heart breaking ones. The image of her mother standing in the surf, a heart broken look upon her teary face. The exact look she wore when Cinder helped Pyrrha remove her as an obstacle to Pyrrha's relationship with Cinder. Had she made a mistake listening to Cinder's whispered words?

At odd times she also saw Jaune. Kneeling on the sands, just at the limit of her vision. Impaled through the chest with Milo, though these rare visions were accompanied with her seeing the rusted armor clade knight. His sheathed sword held in his hand, standing as if watching her.

Her nights were filled with whispers and nightmares. Words of condemnation, accompanied the angered and hurt looks of her former team and friends. Yet the whispers didn't alone happen during the darkest parts of the night. They also began to happen during her other visions, as well.

"Why?" was all that the figment of her mother would say. Over and over, in a maddening rhythmic cadence.

"Join me. Let us take this place." Cinder's seductive voice would float past her ears, even when her image was unseen. "They are weak... powerless. Show them your strength."

"Why linger here? Why allow the weak celebrate and flourish?" were Cinder's other enticing words. "Why remain here? Rotting away alone with nothing? Honor me. Prove to me the strength that drew me to you, still exists."

Yet, Pyrrha continued. Eking out an existence, as her strength grew, and the voices continued their relentless assault. Slowly of the was it days? Weeks? Months? Her resolve and intention to seek redemption was worn away. An anger smoldered in her heart. Embers of hate aimed at those who had what she had always craved. Acceptance, joy and love. Everything Jaune had taken from her.

Finally feeling strong enough to venture into the forest, she walked away from the specters of her mother and Jaune, to join the wraith of Cinder in the shadows. She felt the touch of Cinder's searing kisses upon her cheek and lips, and with her cold emerald eyes closed she revealed and celebrated the tainted embraces, before opening her eyes and taking the first step on her new jounrey.

The residents and inhabitants of this strange, nonsensical place seemed to reflexively avoid her. Hiding as she passed by. Her burning eyes, and wild unkept mane of flowing crimson a promise of what would happen if they crossed her path. The isolation gnawed upon her, as Cinder's seductive, wanton words eroded any thoughts that did not focus on her injustice punishment and isolated imprisonment. Pyrrha's mind twisted by the ghost of Cinder's venom raged at the loss of her happiness. Of a future with the woman she had given her heart.

Days blurred into one another, and time seem to crawl as she stalked through twisted land. A cruel smile crossed her lips when she found them. A village, of star shaped people. Foolish and cumbersome. The sound of their happy voices, and the sight of the idyllic scene, fanned the flames of rage.

"Punish them. Take what has been taken from you, my love." was the whisper of Cinder's poisonous, tainted words in her ear. "Take, and show them what your pain is..."

It was a slaughter. The razor edge of her spear cleaved the fragile people asunder. Her brute strength, bolstered with absolute burning hateful rage, allowing her to lay waste to all in her path. Her eyes shined at the carnage, her lips twisted with cruel joy as she unleashed her true self upon them. Cinder's venomous laughter following her every step as she unleashed desolation upon the people before her.

"I am Pyrrha Nikos!" she screamed in putrid victory, as she stood in the middle of the razed village. "Hear me, and lament! This world is mine!"

The creak of armor, from her right caused her to turn. Her sick smile becoming cruel, her eyes shining in delight. There he was, one of her tormentors. The liar who promised absolution. He who left her to wallow in misery and suffering.

"Look upon what I am!" Pyrrha cackled. "I am death! I am destruction! Bow knee to me and serve!"

"Disgusting." was his hollow response. "You were given the chance to become more than this disease, hateful creature you are now."

"This is who I am! Why should I deny myself from that which was taken from me? Happiness, love, acceptance! I was robbed of all this!"

"You could have found that all and more if you had followed a true path." the knight replied, while reaching up with his free hand to take hold of his helmet. "Your sins are many in this life and the last. Look upon me... and know..."

"Know..." Pyrrha's words caught in her throat, as the knight's helm fell discarded upon the ground. After several long moments she was able to croak out, "Jaune?"

"Look upon the face or your accuser... your judge... your jury..." with perfect motion, he drew his sword from its sheath, tossing the empty vessel aside without a care. "and... executioner."

Pyrrha was given no chance to respond, as Jaune was upon her in an instant. His blows were precise, and without equal as he unleash impassive, cold, judgement upon her. She railed against his onslaught, but if he was a monster the last time she faced him... now he was akin to demon.

She used all her skills, ever tactic, trick and tool at her disposal, yet she was found wanting in all regards. With a missed attack, Jaune gave Pyrrha an opening, that she desperately took. It was a feint, a purposeful misdirection. His response to her spear thrust, was simple and effective. Twisting to the side, he changed the direction of his longsword chopping in down upon the haft of her weapon.

Over balanced, Pyrrha was unable to recover before the keen edge of his blade split her open just below her breasts. She screamed in pain, her hand relinquishing it's hold upon her spear as she stumbled and fell backwards to the battle torn ground. Her eyes grew wide with fear as Jaune turned, and chambered his sword for a final strike.

"Cinder! Help me!" Pyrrha screamed out in a voice filled with utter desperation. A voice that was chocked off, as the vision of her love that had walked at her side for so long, gave her a cruel smile and faded away. "Cinder!"

Jaune's blade bit deep into her flesh, causing her to scream and screech in agony, as he drove in deeper and deeper. reaching down her twisted his hand in her matted mass of crimson hair, and pulled her to a seat position, eliciting a agonized cry. tears filled her eyes, as she finally understood what she truly had and was loosing.

She felt Jaune's warm skin touch her forehead. He teary eyes focusing on his now remorse filled blues.

"I prayed you would choose the correct path." he whispered. "That you would find and become the woman you had been at Beacon."

"Jau..." Pyrrha tried to speak, blood trickling over his lips.

"It seems that woman, was nothing but an facade to hide the cancer you truly are." Jaune continued to whisper. "Goodbye Pyrrha, may you finally find peace in death."

With those final words, Jaune pushed forward, driving his aged blade completely through her. Impaling the tainted heart of one he would have considered a friend. He watched, with tearless but remorseful eyes as Pyrrha's grew wide with the pain, and then dull as the light of life finally left her.

Withdrawing his weapon, he stood, and then went to work. As the sun began to sink past the horizon, Jaune finished his work. A small pile of stones places upon freshly turned soil. A spear, driven blade first at the head of the pile. he said no words, but just looked upon the fresh grave, before turning. retrieving his cast aside belongs, he sheathed his blade, and then seated his rusted helm upon his head, hiding his face in shadow.

"Goodbye." were the last words he spoke, before walking away, never to return to this place again.

[writers-hes]

Brown Sugar (e. munson x reader)

Two kids made it out of Hawkins but both came back, seeking comfort and rest only to find each other again. (friends to lovers, mutual pining, rockstar!eddie, baker!reader)

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On August 22, 1986, Eddie Munson left Hawkins, Indiana without a goodbye and a plan.

It was inevitable, really. He graduated high school months ago (it was his year after all) and saved up enough money from his drug dealings to escape the hellhole he called Hawkins in his beat-up van with nowhere to go. He decided that he had enough money for gas, food, and living expenses for a month in New York. All by himself, where the culture is. He found a pretty cheap hostel off the contact book and they were more than willing to give Eddie a discount and an allowance if he helped around the maintenance of the property. It was more than enough for him who just wanted out.

But a month turned into another week, and then another, and then a month. That month turned into months, until Eddie found a stable job as a tattoo artist in Brooklyn, sidelining with his band, Corroded Coffin, in a grunge-y bar in Manhattan, New York. He met his friends there, Gareth being one of his closest confidants. He wrote songs for the band—strumming his guitar with mindless melodies and playing the antique piano with chords. They started singing their own songs, more people coming into the bar until they landed a record deal with one of the most prominent record labels in Hollywood. They signed immediately with Eddie as their frontman. It was a pretty good deal, Eddie had creative control of the direction of the band and with the uprising of the grunge culture, it seemed like Eddie’s dreams had finally come true.

Sure, overly-conservatives called his music the devil’s music. Some people even suggested that he was a part of a secret society for the rich and famous. There was another rumor that he skyrocketed to fame because of a famous relative. None of it was true but it’s not like he minded. One thing that was good about being the resident Freak of Hawkins was not minding what everyone else thought of him. Devil music? Sure. Trailer trash? Nothing he’s ever heard before. It’s all water off a duck’s back—hey, that sounded like a good song title.

Another good thing that came out of his career was finally getting a house for his uncle back in Hawkins. It wasn’t the biggest but it was enough; a two-storey house in Lucas Sinclair’s street. Wayne never thought that there would be a day that he’d finally live in a house but his boy did it. Damn right, he did.

The band started with an extended play. It was a five-song album that contained their famous songs in Manhattan. Cinders by Corroded Coffin was a hit; a rock EP with different musical styles—pop rock, metal, ballad rock, classic rock, and contemporary. It showcased the talent and the potential that Corroded Coffin was and soon, Eddie found himself in North American tours that extended to Europe.

It was no surprise when, after two hectic years, Eddie Munson went back to Hawkins, Indiana for a break. Being on tour was tiring. Sure, everything paid off and he was more than happy but after a world tour, award shows, and a hit album, Eddie needed a break. Something to ground himself and what could offer that but his hometown, Hawkins? Everybody assumed that he was from New York anyway; always so secretive with his past and his private life—no one would suspect that the most sought-after rock vocalist was back home with an oversized hoodie and boxers, getting yelled at by his Uncle Wayne for not visiting enough.  

-

Honeysuckle Rose by Thelonius Monk plays through the speaker of your bakery. It was rather a slow day and you busied yourself with an Italian buttercream for a cake order tomorrow. Steve Harrington just landed some corporate deal and needed a cake to express his gratitude to his staff. You didn’t know what his work was but if it meant that he would be more than willing to spend so much money for a ‘thank you’ cake, then you wouldn’t mind. The shop smelled like vanilla—not the fake vanilla essence that you get from the store but of a special order Tahitian vanilla paste that was so hard to come by in Hawkins. You smiled at the satisfaction. This was the life that you always wanted, a slow life filled with sweets and nothing else.

You looked around, muffins and macarons lined the display. Your French butter croissants were sold out just before lunch, a few pain au chocolats and kouign amanns here and there. You made it. You fulfilled your dreams and so did everyone else. Should you hire a staff and start serving coffee too? Einspänner, americano… You hummed lightly at the thought, it would be nice but tedious. You pride yourself in small batches of everything you have after all.

The bell by the door frame rings, indicating a new customer. You looked up from your station and smiled. It was Robin Buckley, another Hawkins High alumni.

“Hey, sorry but do you have cupcakes? Like, a lot of cupcakes,” she asked. She was trying to catch her breath and you watched her calm down.

“Um, I could check the back,” you replied before wiping your hands on your apron. Your memory recalled six cupcakes in the fridge. The genoise cake was flavored with coffee and hazelnut. A caramel buttercream would do good for the topping and you were lucky that you had caramel to incorporate into the vanilla buttercream you always had. You emerged from the backroom with six cupcakes and Robin almost swooned. She could smell the coffee from where she was, the glass panel be damned. “I have six coffee and hazelnut cupcakes. Would you like them? It would take me fifteen to thirty minutes to ice them,”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” she said. “May I sit?”

“Of course. Let me just wash my hands and get everything for your cupcakes,” you said before disappearing back to retrieve your tools. Robin watched as you neatly laid down a jar of caramel, a bowl of vanilla buttercream, and what looked like sprinkles.

“You’re from Hawkins High, right?” she asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded, without looking at her. You were busy setting your commercial grade stand mixer. “Do you want a pain au chocolat or a muffin? I baked them this morning. On the house,” you offered.

“Really?” she asked, looking at the display. Now that she really looked at it, everything seemed good. Sure, you were known back in Hawkins High as the baker girl who always had her cookies sold out but what you have now was like, light years away from your cookies. “Can I get a white chocolate and raspberry muffin?”

“Sure,” you replied before getting the requested muffin with a pair of tongs. “Do you want me to heat it up?”

“No, it’s fine. I’m really hungry and well, our friend just got back from the city after two years of little communication and I decided to get him cupcakes as a welcoming gift,” she said, standing up to take the muffin from you. “Oh, wow. This is really good,” she complimented with a mouthful of muffin. You laughed before going back to your job. You took a spatula and plopped a generous amount of caramel buttercream on the cupcakes before doing a swirl and then topping it with chocolate shavings.

“How have you been?” you asked, trying to make a light conversation. You never really talked to Robin in High School. After graduating, you kind of just left Hawkins to study in a culinary school outside Indiana.

“Good,” she replied. “Just started college since I took some time off but I’m taking Gender Studies in Indianapolis. What about you?”

“Oh, I finished my course and started my bakery,” you said. Robin could sense the pride that you held. Everybody knew that you were offered a scholarship at a prestigious culinary school and that you took it. It was the first time you got out of your comfort zone, the second was opening up your sweet shop, nobody knew what the next one would be. “Kind of lucky that Hawkins seems to like what I offer,”

“I mean, after you left Hawkins High, bake sales were never the same,” Robin laments. “Steve refused to buy other people’s cookies when he found out that you left but you’re here now.”

“I’m here now,” you repeated, finishing the cupcakes wordlessly. “I’m about finished with the cupcakes. Do you want a gift box for it?”

“Yes, please,” she replied. You nodded and told her the total price of her order and she gave you her payment.

“Let me just go to the back and fix everything,” you said. You washed your hands and carefully placed the cupcakes in a special gift box with your shop’s logo and phone number. You took another white chocolate and raspberry muffin and a salted strawberry cookie.

“Here you go, Robin,” you said, extending her a paper bag and the box of your cupcake. Robin looked at what’s inside the bag and she smiled.

“Free treats? Sweet,” she said. “Thank you!”

“Thank you!” you told her watching her away from the store and going back to tending Steve’s cake order.

-

“I’m here!” Robin announced, opening the door of the new Munson household. It was decorated nicely, Wayne’s mug collection the centrepiece of the dining room, while the walls of the living room were lined with pictures of Eddie, Wayne, and their friends.

“Welcome back, Robin,” Wayne replied. “How was your day?”

“Well, I got cupcakes for Eddie from this bakery in town. Hey, Steve, remember the girl with the best cookies from high school? She owns the place and she gave me a muffin and a cookie,” she rambled, going deeper into the house to see everyone there. Eddie ordered lots of pizza and soda for everyone while everybody else got small bits of what they considered as welcoming gifts. “Hi, Eddie! Welcome back. This is for you,” she said, before hugging him.

“Thanks, Robs,” he replied. Robin took him in—all tattoos and long hair. He looked older now but happier. Definitely happier. Eddie looked at the box and saw the cupcakes. “You know, I think I know her…the baker, I mean. She used to give me free cookies back in high school,”

“Yeah! Well, she has this shop now and she’s doing good,” Robin replied, sitting beside Steve.

“Anyway, how have you been? We were all shocked to know that you weren’t coming back after a month and the next thing we knew, people were lining up in the record store beside Family Video for a copy of your CD,” Steve asked. There was bitterness in his voice and Eddie understood. He knew that Steve was happy for him, though. He even attended one of his shows in Manhattan when they were small and then went to two shows after the release of the album. Eddie even brought him to his apartment, reliving what Hawkins used to be over scotch and beer. They had little correspondence over the years but that didn’t change the fact that Steve and Eddie were still close. They were just too busy growing up with their growing pains but it was alright.

“Really good but also, really tired.” Eddie replied. “Management gave us a four-month break before we go back to L.A. to write and record songs. We’re planning to release an album next year. But yeah, I decided to come back home for the break. It's been two years since I stepped foot in Hawkins and the first thing I hear is Wayne asking if I got him mugs from the cities I’ve been in,” he teased.

“Well, Wayne’s collection is as impressive as ever,” Nancy added. She has been talking mindlessly to Robin about her journalism classes, the two girls already concocting a plan to collaborate on a research paper.

“Thank you, Nancy,” Wayne said. Knocks at the door startled the group and in went a gaggle of children who all raced to Eddie, save for the lone adult in the group named Jonathan Byers.

“There’s this asshole,” That was Dustin.

“Hey, Eddie,” Max.

“Eddie!” Lucas and Mike.

“Hi,” El, Will, and Jonathan.

“Hey, guys!” Eddie smiled, standing up from the La-Z Boy. “How are you?”

Dustin tackled him into a hug. “You shouldn’t leave like that again, you hear me, asshole? Seriously, I was biking to and from the trailer park to see if you’d be back until you called to tell me that you’d be gone indefinitely,”

“Sorry, Dustin,” Eddie apologized, ruffling his curly hair. He meant it and he knew the bearing of being Dustin’s friend. “I know I shouldn’t have done that but it worked out well, huh?”

“Yeah,” Dustin nodded, breaking away from Eddie. Mike and the rest gave him half hugs while Max opted for a small wave. “We’re at the cool table now because I’ve been telling them that my friends, Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson will beat the shit out of them if they make fun of any of us,” he snickered, earning  eye rolls from the two men whom he considered as his older brothers. Thankfully, Dustin’s anger for Eddie seemed to dissipate.

“How long are you here for, neighbor?” Lucas asked. He was even taller now and Eddie couldn’t quite believe it.

“Four months,” Eddie replied. “I’ll be here for four months.”

Four months was enough time, the group decided. The rest of the night was spent with soda, beer, pizza, and other junk food. It felt just like the old times, the kids taking digs at Eddie and Steve, Nancy and Jonathan curled in a corner, and Robin splayed out on top of her friends. Wayne took pictures of them together to hang on the wall. Jonathan said he’ll develop them.

-

“Yeah, do you think I can order single origin coffee beans and some coffee syrups? Your catalogue said that you offered coffee supplies? Yeah, I’ll have caramel, dark chocolate, and vanilla syrups with that too,” you said over the phone. An impulsive thought from last week turned into reality—you bought a commercial espresso machine and hung a “HIRING” sign on the glass door of your shop. “Next week? Okay, that’s fine. Thanks,” you said before hanging up.

The coffee supplies scattered across your workspace were free samples and you sighed, trying to make a coffee menu. Some people already applied for the job but nobody could quite make the cut yet. Nobody had the precision that you were looking for. The shop was quite hectic today and you really needed another helping hand. With baking, inventory, cleaning up, and everything else, your business was wearing you to the bone. You wouldn’t have it any other way; your business was slowly expanding, it’s just that help could really come in handy.

“Hey, can I get a dozen assorted cookies?” a voice asked and you turned.

“Oh, my God,” you gasped. “Eddie Munson from middle school, right?” Eddie smiled, glad that you remembered him. How could you not? You were hopelessly crushing on the boy since you laid your eyes on him in middle school. You may or may not have given him a batch of special cookies during bake sales to convey your feelings but you were so positive that he didn’t catch it. He’d always run off with a quick ‘thanks’ or a ‘see you later.’

“The one and only,” he replied. “How have you been?”

“Good…great,” you replied, heart beating loudly. You were so sure that you buried your crush after you graduated high school but it seemed like your heart had other plans. “You?”

“Great,” he replied as he watched you pick different flavors of cookies—chocolate chip, smores, cheesecake, tiramisu, salted strawberry, butterscotch, double chocolate, chocolate and peanut butter marble, chocolate crinkle, cashew raspberry, whoopie pie, and tagalongs.

“It’s been a while,” you replied, bagging the cookies in individual parchment paper before placing them in a box. Just like how you used to in high school.

“Years,” he said. “I went to your graduation but you already left. Wanted to say thank you for the cookies,” he revealed, making you pause for a moment. “and for being the single person in all of Indiana who gave me the time of day,”

“You did?” you asked, tying the box with a ribbon. “I didn’t go because it was the orientation week for the culinary school I went to. Here,” you handed him the box.

“How much?”

“It’s on the house. Let’s keep the tradition going with free cookies,” you smiled, looking at Eddie’s brown sugar eyes, sickly and sweet.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Don’t worry about it,” But you did have to worry about it because Eddie was here and as long as he visited, he’d get free cookies from you and you would probably run out of business but it was Eddie. Any rational thought was out of the window as soon as you saw him. He was more handsome now, bigger arms from playing the guitar, long hair more kept in place but still wild enough to be signature Eddie. There was a slight stubble growing on his chin, more confidence, more everything in the best way possible. He’d be the death of you, you realize.

“Come on. I have to pay for all the cookies you gave me back then,” he said. Eddie didn’t think he’d have this opportunity again but he did. Just like back then, he felt his heart thumpthumpthumping so fast that it was ringing in his ears. His palms were sweaty but if he was nervous, he made sure to show no indication of it. He coughed to clear his throat. “What if…what if I take you out sometime? Like, a friendly dinner?”

Friendly dinner. God, a friendly dinner with your long-time crush, surely you’d manage.

“Okay,” you smiled.

“What time are you free?” he asked.

“Not today…I have to test these coffee stuff because I’m adding coffee to the menu,” you said sadly but Eddie only beamed.

“You close at six p.m., right? I’ll be here with dinner and you can ask me for my opinions on coffee,” he said.

“You won’t sleep,” you warned him, a soft smile on your face.

“I don’t sleep anyway, sweetheart,” he said. “So, Italian? Chinese?”

“Any is okay,” you said. Eddie left with a wink after that and you had to physically catch your breath. Meanwhile, Eddie was freaking out. No greasy food in Hawkins was enough for you. Eddie knew from the get-go that you enjoyed—deserved fancy things and who knew fancy things like the back of his hand? Steve Harrington.

“Do you know any five star restaurant with take-out?” Eddie asked, alerting Steve in his office.

“What?” Steve asked.

“I went to the bakery because the cupcakes Robin got were delicious and I was supposed to buy cookies but she was there and she gave me cookies and I said I’ll take her for a friendly dinner,” Eddie rambled making Steve laugh loudly. Eddie was sure that Steve was probably wiping his eyes from the tears leaking out because how could a famous rock star be so nervous to ask a small-town girl for a date? “Shut the fuck up, Harrington,”

“Okay, okay!” Steve chuckled before telling Eddie about an Italian restaurant in town. It wasn’t the fanciest but the owners were Italian and they served the best risotto and pasta ever. Eddie took note of that, ending the call and then calling the restaurant for pick-up, ordering what seemed to be whatever the owner recommended and then setting up a delivery at his home at around 5:30 in the afternoon.

Eddie paced. He could’ve asked for a different day for that dinner but he couldn’t resist. What if this was the last opportunity for him to see you again? What if you had a boyfriend who wasn’t fine with a possible friendship with him? He looked at the wine collection that he had built for possible guests—Christ, who would’ve thought Eddie was ever going to have a wine collection? He sounded like a proper douchebag right now but all is well because he saw a bottle of red wine that he had many moons ago in Europe for a meeting with a designer. It was so impressive that Eddie bought some back home in America and sent some to his uncle in Hawkins. He took it and set it on the counter. Wayne was at work right now and Eddie was left alone. Should he change his outfit? Or would it be too forward if he showed up in a suit?

-

An angel in the form of Max Mayfield enters your shop, an envelope in hand.

“Hey, I’m Max Mayfield. I saw that you were hiring and well, I, uh, wanted to apply,” she said, unsure. You smiled warmly at her and told her to sit on any chair seat, asking her if she wanted anything to which she replied with a short, “Nothing.”

You sat in front of her before reading the resume that she gave you. Maxine Mayfield, student of Hawkins High, skills, etcetera, etcetera.

“Do you know what you’re applying for?” you asked her. “Before we go into the application process, I’d like to inform you about the responsibilities. You’ll have to man the coffee bar, help out with baking, inventory, and the cashbox. You’d also have to help me clean up but other than that, everything’s all me. Sometimes, I’ll ask you to do something of course but I promise it’s nothing too tiresome. The business has been expanding and I just really need help with maintaining the place,” you said. Max listened attentively, taking mental notes of what it would be like to work here. Robin offered her a job at Family Video and Steve told her that she could probably intern at his work. He was employed in some big-shot accounting firm in Hawkins while taking over his dad’s real estate business slowly but Max wanted to make it on her own. No help from anyone or anything.

“That’s fine with me,” she said.

“Okay? You’ll receive training from me and you get free pastries as long as you work here. We have lots of surplus baked goods from orders and whatnot. You can also have free coffee using the espresso machine, I’d have to teach you how to use that, too.” you said. One thing you learned from interning at a patisserie in New Jersey was how there will always be surplus. At the end of the day, you’d have to throw out anything that didn’t sell and it always felt wasteful. You didn’t like wasting food but surplus was inevitable; so you opted for ‘free tastes’ and freebies for big batch orders. Two-day old breads were turned into bread pudding or croutons that you sold. Extra cakes were turned into cake jars or cake pops. Leftover macarons were used as cake decor and so on. Cookies and cupcakes were your bestsellers.  

“Does that mean I’m hired?” she asked and you nodded.

“Yeah,” you nodded. Out of all the applicants, it seems as though Max was the best one. You were happy you held out, Max seems responsible and intelligent. You were sure that you could rely on her. You told her about her salary which was more than what she thought she’d and she smiled. She could probably help with the bills at home and have enough for her allowance. “You start on Monday. The shop is usually closed on Sunday but Sundays are prep days. It’s the day I fix everything before another week. Saturday is inventory day, so I’ll show you that too. Just come here on Monday so we could start with training. Don’t worry, your training is paid. Just don’t forget to clock in and clock out. Standard working hours. Nine to five,”

“Okay,” she nodded. “I’ll see you on Sunday at nine,”

You nodded and stood up. “Good to meet you, Max,” you said, shaking her hand.

“Nice meeting you too. Thank you, by the way,” she said, waving her hand goodbye before leaving.

-

Eddie was sure that coffee and wine would not mix well together. He walked inside your shop at 6:05 p.m., ignoring the ‘CLOSED’ sign. You emerged from the back room with a tray of coffee supplies when you smiled at him.

“Sorry, I was late. How was the rest of your day?” he asked, wine and bags of food in his hands.

“Good,” you nodded. “You were just in time. The last customer just left. Where do you want to have dinner? Here or in the backroom? You can come in, let me just set up the coffee bar, so we could start after eating,”

Eddie nodded, pushing the barricade open before setting the food in the backroom. Your backroom was so unlike the one in Family Video where he used to waste the day away. Yours was a professional culinary kitchen—commercial stand mixers, ovens, a big refrigerator, a freezer, an island and a sink in the center with bar stools on the side. The place was pristine—spotless, even. Everything was so modern and just amazing but it still felt homey. There was a small room deep into the back where he could peek a computer, bag, and a shelf of notebooks and cookbooks.

“Hi, sorry,” you said, wiping your hands on the apron before discarding it entirely in the bin. “I’m done! Let me just get our dessert,”

“Our dessert?” Eddie laughed. “I thought this was my treat,”

“I know but it wouldn’t hurt to have some creme brulee, right?” you asked before sitting in front of him. You watched Eddie take out the food that he got for you, Steve’s recommendations of risotto, ravioli, and prosciutto and arugula pizza. He also brought with him what looked like expensive wine. “I don’t have wine glasses for the both of us but I have these mugs,” you told him, showing him kitsch bunny mugs with strawberries and flowers.

“That’s fine with me,” he said. “Let’s eat?” Eddie couldn’t describe it but it felt like God was playing soulful piano somewhere in the universe for the two of you. There was a gentle smile as you helped yourself with a serving of everything; splitting the plates between the two of you. Eddie poured wine on your bunny mugs, completely comfortable silence blanketing the back room.

“I was so surprised when I heard your voice on the radio,” you told him. “I mean, always knew you’d make it out of Hawkins but I didn’t even know that you left. I just didn’t see you anymore when I came back,”

“What did you think?” Eddie asked. For some reason, he was so nervous about what you could possibly think of him and his band. Maybe because he wanted to impress you so much because you were the only person who was kind enough to listen to him and lend him a drawing pencil when he was sketching the logo for Hellfire Club.

“I always knew you could sing and I don’t like rock at all that much,” you said bluntly, swallowing a large gulp of wine. “But you made it likeable for me. I’m not really all that informed in music but I don’t know. I really like it,” you said. Maybe it was one of the best records you’ve heard because it was Eddie and in your eyes, Eddie could do no wrong; but in all honesty, it was good. “I’ve collected your albums since,”

“You did, huh?” he asked, a teasing smirk playing on his lips.

“Yeah,” you nodded shyly. “I have to at least support a fellow Hawkins citizen for patriotism and all that, right? Need an autograph to show my friends,” Eddie nodded and you fell into an easy conversation. This was probably the longest time that you’d ever spent with each other; save for when you both sat beside each other during your classes. He told you about the world; the places he’s been in and what life must have felt like for him. Eddie Munson was one who’d always seize the moment and capture an opportunity—it was how he got his success.

“I was drunk out of my mind in Malibu when this actress came to me and said that she would love to have a tattoo of some lame drawing that I had,” he said. “I was drunk but I was no quitter; so, I took out my tattoo gun and tattooed a lame flower with like, four petals on her thigh. She was pretty drunk too, I guess because she called me the morning after asking why she had an ugly tattoo on her thigh.” He laughed and you chuckled at his theatrics. You, on the other hand, were tied down to this place. You left Hawkins for five years and then came back because you were so comfortable in it. It was your home—rolling hills, crunch leaves, bikes, and living life in slow-motion.

“Wait, you were in New Jersey for a year?” Eddie asked. “That’s a short travel from New York. I would’ve visited you and we’d be the kids who saw something more outside Hawkins,”

“Yeah, but we never really stayed in touch or talked outside school,” you told him. “I was too busy chasing scholarships and college and everything else that I never really had time for friends or anything like that,”

“But it worked out well for the two of us, right?” he asked. “And well, we’re out of school now, maybe it’s time for the two of us to go way past cookies and small waves,” he said, leaning forward in the chair; closer to you.

“I guess so.” you said. “So, we’re friends now?”

“This is a friendly dinner, after all,” Eddie replied, a toothy grin decorating his handsome features. He’d be the death of you, you realized. The crush that you tried so hard to bury was back and bigger. It clawed in your chest like a monster asking for your attention. It warmed your heart and you were sure that a few more smiles that lit up the place would melt your heart; coating his hands like honey because of this sickly sweet feeling.

Maybe it was the coffee that Eddie tasted but he was laid in his bed, wide awake. His thoughts were racing at least a hundred miles per hour and he was so, so, so, convinced that it was coffee. Coffee that you made. It’s why he was thinking of you and of going back to your shop and asking for more or else he’d have withdrawals. Maybe it was the sugar rush from the custardy creme brulee. Maybe it was the vanilla smell that wafted in the air. Maybe it was John Coltrane’s My Favorite Things playing on the speakers. Maybe it was something else entirely but one thing was for sure, he has to see you again. He doesn’t know when but it has to be soon.

-

“Eddie, you’ve been smiling on your glass like a goddamn fool for minutes now,” Steve called. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, snapping back to reality. Robin and Steve sat across from him. He asked if they could all get together for drinks after work in his house and they both agreed.

“How was your friendly dinner?” Steve asked, a knowing smile on his lips. Robin’s eyes almost fell out of its sockets. Eddie Munson was dating?

“With who?” Robin asked, looking around for some clues when her eyes landed on a familiar box that looked entirely similar to the one she brought the other day. “Oh my God!”

“Right?” Steve asked, eyebrow raising. “He calls me during work hours and asks me for five star restaurants that serve take-out for a friendly dinner. Must’ve been so good for Eddie to smile like that at a glass of bourbon,”

“Shut it, Harrington,” he groaned, running a hand through his face. “I don’t know what this is yet, alright? But whatever it is you’re insinuating isn’t fucking real,”

“Okay, pretty boy. No need to get your panties in a twist,” Steve teased, holding his hands up in surrender. “Just make sure you get me some of the mini tres leches cake when you visit her next time,”

“You know, I heard from Nancy who heard it from Mike that Max was going to start working there on Sunday,” Robin said. “I don’t really know what to do with that information but you might, Eddie,”

“Nope,” Eddie said, shaking his head in artificial nonchalance. “Steve might,”

“Not me,” Steve said. “I’m not the one who called a friend for five-star lunch takeouts,” he replied, earning a laugh from Robin.

“Fuck you, Harrington. Your ass is grass when it’s your turn,” Eddie grumbled before downing his drink.

Turns out, Eddie knew exactly what to do with that information because on Saturday lunch, Eddie strolls around with the kids except for Max, who was busy extracting espresso.

“What can I help—“ Max greeted before seeing her friends. She groaned, they were her friends and she loves them but they could be a handful sometimes. It was even worse because Steve was there with his shiny credit card, telling everyone to get whatever they wanted. “Ugh, guys? Really? My workplace?”

“Eddie told us that he’d get us everything we wanted from this place,” Mike said. “And I’m not one to say no to grace,”

“Fine, what do you want?” Max asked, pulling out her paper and pen. She wrote their orders; coffees and an assortment of pastries for everyone.

“Get some for yourself too, Max,” Eddie replied. “Just swipe my card,”

“No, thanks. I get everything here for free. Employee’s perks,” she boasts. “If you’re looking for my boss, she’s currently outside with her friend having lunch,” She smirked at Eddie’s obvious disappointment. “Sorry, Eddie. If you want, I can pass her a message,”

“No, that’s fine,” Eddie said. “Hey, hey! Dustin, stop hitting Will!”

Max only laughed before swiping Eddie’s card and tending to the orders.

It was always chaotic when the kids all got together. Sure, they were probably as old as Eddie once was but in his eyes, the gang were still children. No amount of facial hair and genes would change that. He was busy talking to Dustin when he heard you laugh, and everything in his mind suddenly went thump, thump, thum, thump. Everything was suddenly even more chaotic than the party because why did Eddie suddenly close his mouth when he was in the middle of telling Dustin about his adventures? Dustin looked up to see what Eddie was pitifully looking at. You and another man. A friend? That’s what Max said, right?

“Eddie!” you greeted, a smile on your lips. “It’s nice to see you here,”

“Hey,” he smiled tightly, eyeing the man behind you. Was that your boyfriend? “Haven’t seen you in a while,”

“You saw me last week,” you replied. “But yeah, it’s been awhile. How are you?”

“Just taking the kids out for lunch,” he said. “Max apparently works here now too so, thought that it would be nice to visit,”

“Oh, yeah! Um, Max, you can take a break and hang out with them. I’ll take care of the rest, don’t worry,” you said, walking towards the cashier with Alex behind you.

“Are you sure?” Max asked and you assured her that it was fine. That it was her break time anyway. She smiled gratefully before stalking towards her friends with a croissant sandwich you made her last night. Eddie was preoccupied, distracted as he listened to Dustin complain about how hard it was to be away from his girlfriend. He was straining his ear to get some information on this guy you’re suddenly with.

“Hey, Alex, can you tend to the customer while I prepare the pick-up for today?” you asked.

“Sure,” was this asshole’s reply, as if you deserved a one-word reply.

“Thanks,” you smiled before disappearing into the backroom.

“What can I get for you today?” Alex asked, notepad and pen in hand. Eddie watched as Alex nodded, suggesting flavors and other products to a customer. This was what you probably wanted, right? You mentioned how you loved the slow-paced life in Hawkins. It was the reason why you returned, dreams and goals in hand.

“That’s Alex. They met in culinary school and he was in Indianapolis when he decided to come visit her in Hawkins,” Max said, wiping her mouth with a paper towel. “Don’t worry about him. They’re literally just friends,”

“I wasn’t asking,” was Eddie’s defensive reply, making Max frown.

“But I think he has a crush on her,” Max said, to get back at Eddie’s rude remark. She was just trying to help flesh out something that was so obvious. “I mean, who would drive from Indianapolis to Hawkins for lunch, right? He even got her stuff from his hometown. Stuff she said she misses but it’s not like you were asking, right?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded warily. “Not like I was asking,”

-

Eddie went back home that day, annoyed. It wasn’t because of Max’s snarky reply or anything. He just couldn’t place what it was. Maybe because he went there to see you and he didn’t. Or maybe he felt guilty. He didn’t know what it was but he was positive that there was something. Eddie knew that talking to Steve would probably result in some bullshit explanation like feelings. Steve was too much of a hopeless romantic to actually say a rational explanation for his troubles.

“Ugh,” Eddie groaned into his pillow before swiftly standing up. “What the hell,”

Eddie trudged down to the living room. Wayne was about to come home any minute now and he at least needed to prepare for dinner. He wasn’t the best cook so he decided to take his dear, old Uncle to a nice dinner in the city. Eddie looked around and a surge of gratefulness passed him. Who would’ve thought that Hawkins’ Freak would be able to afford a house for his uncle? That he could eat out three times a day, everyday and not think about how to pay for all of it? Who would’ve thought that he could afford things that seemed like literal lightyears away?

-

“Do you and Eddie have something?” Max asked, wiping the kitchen island. Alex, who was washing the trays, stilled and looked at you.

“Wait, that was Eddie Munson? The Eddie Munson? Rockstar Eddie?” Alex asked. “The same Eddie that you’ve been pining for since middle school?” Now, Max didn’t mean to, but she struck gold. She saw how Eddie was giving Alex the stink eye. Sure, she lied but she got good results. The ends justify the means, after all.

“Alex!” you hissed from the pantry area. “You didn’t hear anything, Max,”

“Oh, I heard everything. You’ve been crushing on Eddie since middle school,” she teased.

“Looks like the feelings are reciprocated, I can feel his eyes burn holes on my body,” Alex added. “Does he know you’re single?”

“Why does it matter?” you asked, moving onto the chocolate chips.

“Because you like him,” Max said, an all-knowing tone in her voice. “And he probably likes you back too,”

“I agree with Red over here,” Alex said. “You have to tell me everything, Max. I won’t be here again after a long time but I expect a weekly newsletter all about her and Eddie Munson,”

“Oh, God,” you groaned. You were lucky that you were facing away from them because they would easily see how bashful you were being. “You get together for a day and you’re all ganging up against me,”

“All towards the same goal,” Alex said. “How about we leave this place and have some Chinese food, huh? I’m sick of cleaning and quite frankly, I am not paid enough for this. Besides, it’s my last night,”

“Hey! I let you crash in my spare bedroom for free,” you complained.

“And I have to listen about your crush every night. So, really, I’m doing more work,” he countered. “Seriously, Red, we have to get her drunk tonight and you will see—he’s all she talks about. You know, when he first released his EP, she lined up at the record store to get it. I didn’t know why she suddenly wanted to listen to rock until I found out that Eddie Munson was the frontman of Corroded Coffin,”

“She’s still under twenty-one, Alex,” you reminded him. “What kind of boss would I be if I get drunk in front of my newbie?”

“I mean, Steve and Robin get drunk around us all the time,” Max said, shrugging slightly to show that she doesn’t care but she does. She really wants to see you talk about Eddie because you were so guarded especially when it came to your emotions. Sure, she felt at ease with you; welcoming smiles and warm words but she doesn’t know anything about you.

“See? It’s fine. Besides, it’s Sunday tomorrow. You deserve a hangover,”

-

“He said,” you hiccuped over bottles of beer and plates of Chinese food. “that he went to my graduation to congratulate me and say thank you for the cookies but I wasn’t in Hawkins anymore,”

“And then what?” Alex asked, equally drunk as you. Max had no way to go back home especially with two drunk adults in her presence but there were two things that she was sure of—one, you and Alex treated each other like siblings and two, you have a big crush on Eddie that you tried to bury.

“And then nothing,” you said, eyes clouded from the alcohol in your system. “We never talked again and he left Hawkins but we’re…” you tasted the word on your tongue, bitterness coating it and you weren’t sure if it was the shots of baijiu that you had or the word itself but either way, you found yourself reaching for the water to down it. “friends. We’re friends,”

“Eugh,” Alex expressed, an unpleasant look on his face. “That’s really…not cool. Hey, Maxie, what word is not cool?”

“Don’t call me that,” she said with a smile on her face. “Uncool?”

“Yeah, uncool. Not rad. Un-rad,” he said. “Oh, God, how are we going to take you home? Do you know how to drive?”

“No,” Max half-lied. Well, technically she knew the basics but after almost slamming Steve’s BMW into the curb, she decided to stay off the steering wheel and have someone drive. “I can call my friend, Lucas, and have him take us,”

“Oh, Lucas Sinclair?” you teased. “You’re out here—hiccup—teasing me when you have love problems of your own?” Alex looks at Max with a raised eyebrow.

“Now, who’s this Luke Sinclair and why do you know his home number?” Alex asked, an accusatory finger waving in the air.

“Guys!” Max scolded. “I’ll call him, okay? Don’t leave,”

“Okay, mom,” you both groaned before falling into messy laughter, finding it funny that you called your junior your mother.

-

“Hey, Eddie?” Lucas knocked. “Open up!”

Lucas hears a light jog towards the door that soon opened.

“What, Sinclair?” Eddie asked, a hand on his hip.

“Max called me and well, yourgirlfriendgotreallydrunk and now needs a ride home,” Lucas said. Eddie furrowed his brows.

“Wait, what? My girlfriend?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah. Max’s boss? She told me that you’re her boyfriend and well, I know how to drive but my parents are not at home and therefore, I have no car and no way of getting there so I came here to ask if you can lend me your really, cool, brand new van so I can drive to where they are and get them home?” Lucas rambled, his hands doing all the work to convince Eddie.

“Fine, fine. Let me get the keys and you can sit shotgun,” Eddie said, disappearing into the house. “Big rockstar but still a fucking babysitter for these nutjobs,” he complained, meaning for Lucas to hear all of it but Lucas only chuckled.

You were laughing with Alex when you saw a familiar figure in a pair of Ray Bans and a hoodie. He followed who looked like Max’s boyfriend and you smiled.

“Hello, Max’s boyfriend!” you greeted, earning a look of horror from the redhead. Lucas was obviously thrown off guard, a stuttering mess before you.

“She’s not my-uh, girlfriend,” Lucas defended, earning a glare from Max. “But I’m with—“

“Edward, Edison, Eduardo?” Alex asked, raising from his hunched over figure.

“All right,” Eddie clapped his hands. “Let’s go. Up, up, up,” he commanded before walking to you. “You think you can walk to the van, sugar?” he asked and you looked at him, his eyes pleading.

“Brown sugar,” you mumbled. Eddie tilted his head to the side slightly, to ask you what you meant. “Your eyes shine like brown sugar.”

-

You groaned, the sun hitting your eyes. You had more than to drink last night and you were pretty sure you couldn’t remember anything. How you and Alex laid sprawled on the couch was a mystery but you had to call Max to check if she was okay. You could remember fragments of last night; calling Max ‘mom’, telling them about your stupid crush…Eddie. Oh, God. Eddie was there last night.

Your head pounded and you looked at your coffee table with two glasses of water and a bottle of aspirin for your headache. You reach for it, downing the glass of water with a tablet of the medicine before preparing a bowl of ice cold water to dunk your head into. Wiping your face with a paper towel after you were sure that you were somehow awake, you called Max’s phone number.

“Hello?” she asks from the other side.

“Hey, Max,” you said.

“Oh, hello, Mrs. Munson,” she teased, making your face warm up. Somehow, that teasing brought everything back, ice cold water be damned.

“Max!” you groaned and she laughed. “I just wanted to call if you were okay? I’m sorry Alex and I got drunk last night,”

“Yeah, I’m good. Eddie and Lucas brought me back after we made sure that you were alright. It’s a good thing you gave me your address for emergencies. Are you feeling alright?” she asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “My head hurts but it’s fine. Um, I’m really sorry for being irresponsible last night. I promise I’m not like that everytime I grab dinner. But yeah. Take the day off so you could rest,”

“Okay,” Max agreed. “Thank you. Call me if you need anything?”

“Sure, Max,” you said. “Alex is leaving today. I think he wants to say goodbye to you but I’ll make him drive to you instead. Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Max replied. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The call ended and now you are thinking about your next set of problems—what did you say last night and did you embarrass yourself in front of Eddie Munson?

-

Eddie blushes at the sign of brown sugar, a bashful smile tugging on his lips.

“What’s gotten into you?” Wayne asked over breakfast. Eddie sighs happily and looks at his uncle.

“Nothing. Just…brown sugar is such a gift, huh?” Eddie asked. Reaching for the small jar of brown sugar for their coffee. Wayne looks at his nephew questioningly before going back to his breakfast. If breakfast meant Eddie talking nonsense, he’d rather have it in silence.

Eddie couldn’t forget last night. His eyes shone like brown sugar? That sounds like something right out of a love song. He couldn’t stop thinking about you—giggling at something Lucas said about irresponsible adults, head on Max’s shoulders, and you even touched him slightly on his shoulders when you saw him at the restaurant. Then, when he took you home, he saw the vinyl collection beside your television, all his records littering the area because it meant that you listened to his songs religiously. It didn’t help that you were smiling so prettily at him, so sweet and beautiful despite the chaos that Alex was causing in the backdrop. He had to look for a spare blanket but it was okay. You pouted when he tucked you in your couch but blew him a drunken kiss nonetheless. He was full-on grinning on the jar of brown sugar now, unbeknownst to him, his uncle was watching.

But what he couldn’t explain was how bright the stars were last night when you were leaning towards him closer, laughing at some stupid shit he said. How he always had to look for an excuse to come to your shop. How he doesn’t even have your number yet and how badly he wants to call you with no inhibitions and hesitations. He wanted them all and he didn’t care if he was being greedy. Christ, if he could put you in his pocket forever, he would.

“Fuck,” Eddie muttered. He’s caught the bug.

-

Sunday afternoon and Alex has left. You were in your shop alone, visibly stressed. Alex told you about how Eddie tucked you in and what the fuck—how were you supposed to recover from that? That only proved how sweet he really is. But it’s not like you needed any convincing. Eddie in high school was sweet to you but Eddie now was way sweeter and it was giving you such a rush.

You needed—really needed to be distracted with something else because this crush is clawing its way out, manifesting into more physical forms and you were scared that you wouldn’t be able to hide it anymore. Max caught on it quickly. You wanted to stay away from Eddie but how could you, really? He’s like a flame pulling you closer and closer. The sun to your Icarus until you fall.

Only, you were hoping that you stick your landing.

-

Lingering questions were stuck in his mind. If what he felt was true, would you accept him? What if he was reading in between the lines and that there was nothing actually there? Was he forcing something to happen? He couldn’t stop thinking about you; about high school, about the possibility of something happening.

“Steve, I’m telling you this girl…I just can’t fucking—I don’t know,” Eddie muttered. It was Sunday lunch with Steve. “It’s like, it’s like she’s all I think about and I’m not even sure what’s gotten into me,”

Steve Harrington was having a fun time watching his friend fall before him. He doesn’t even realize it and Steve won’t say anything. He’d rather bear witness to when Eddie’s eyes widen in shock, when the truth settles on him. So, rather than telling Eddie what he so desperately felt, Steve took a bite of his sandwich.

“Like, like, Alex was there, right? Her friend and I got so angry because he gave her a one-worded reply. The thing is, she doesn’t even deserve that. Yeah? Sure? Say your words big guy. You know? But I felt so stupid because when I got there last night, it was so obvious that they were only friends. Like, platonic with a capital ‘P’,” Eddie rambled. “And she’s always been so kind to me in high school. Way kinder that you ever were, by the way,” Eddie added, shooting Steve a pointed look.

“Cookies?”

“Not just cookies! She helped me whenever I got lost in a lesson, always pointing me to which part to read. Lent me her pencil and always gave me smiles. Like, who does that?” Eddie asked. “And last night, I was in her house and saw her vinyl collection. Corroded Coffin was littered, Steve. The EP was on the vinyl player itself. That must mean something right? But like, I don’t know. Maybe I’m just being stupid,”

“Is that her?” Steve asked, looking at something in the distance. Eddie’s head whipped to where Steve was looking and you weren’t there. Steve, on the other hand, was laughing so loudly. There was nothing to look for, obviously. They were in an empty parking lot after all. It was obviously a ploy. “Eh, looked like her,”

“Fuck you, Harrington. I swear to God,” Eddie groaned, his head falling on his hands. This feeling was so unfamiliar for him and he doesn’t know how to fucking—process everything. Steve was obviously useless for the advice that he was trying to seek but he didn’t even know what he wanted from the boy right in front of him.

“Look,” Steve said, swallowing his food. “Maybe…just maybe, Eddie Munson has a crush,”

Eddie peeks from his caging hands and then looks at Eddie. Reality hits him like a bucket of ice cold water on his face. Steve watches in amusement when Eddie opens his mouth only to close it again. He can see the gears in Eddie’s head working, knees jumping at high speed.

“I need to smoke,” Eddie suddenly said, lighting a cigarette from his pocket. He needs something to calm him down because what the fuck—what Steve said made so much sense. He had a big crush on you and he felt so childish; like he was in middle school again because if there’s something Eddie wants, he’d do anything to fucking do it. If there’s someone Eddie wants, he’d do anything to make sure that all their attention was on him.

“Can’t believe it took you some advice from old Steve Harrington to realize your feelings,” Steve boasts. “But hey, best man, right?”

-

On Monday morning, Eddie found himself knocking on your shop’s glass door hours before you even opened. You looked up from your coffee and your newspaper, surprised. He smiled once your eyes settled on him and you felt that warm, fuzzy feeling again. How was this gorgeous boy giving his smiles away for free? You stood up from your chair and walked over to unlock the door.

“Sorry, we aren’t open yet,” you said but opening the door wider for him to enter.

“I know,” he replied. “I’m not here for the pastries. I’m actually here for you,”

And oh my, God. Maybe you suppressed that feeling before��successfully; but Eddie went out of his way to come here for you. That ought to rattle the cage of butterflies in your stomach, right?

“Really? What for?” you asked. “Can I interest you in some coffee?”

“No, thanks. I just came here to see you. No other reason,” he said, sitting on your chair and reading over the news. “But I just wanted to ask how you were? I hope you didn’t sport a bad hangover yesterday, sugar.”

You didn’t actually. A headache in the form of the unknown has come to haunt you instead. Alex was pestering you about Eddie all day and you still couldn’t remember what you said to him. You didn’t like knowing but you didn’t want to ask Eddie, either.

“Nothing bad, really. Max said you took us home? Thank you for that,” you smiled, sitting in front of him and reaching for your coffee. “Um, look, if I said anything embarrassing that night, please forget it. I didn’t mean it.” Eddie’s smile only got bigger, if anything.

“Sure,” he nodded. “You didn’t really say or do anything,” he lied. How could he tell you that brown sugar can put him on his knees now? That would be embarrassing now, would it? Besides, you can say what you like—drunk words are still sober thoughts.

“Thanks,” you said, nodding. “I have to thank you for it sometime.”

“Think of that as a payment for your cookies,” he said. “No need to owe me. Besides, is this friendship really built on favors?”

“No, of course not,” you said before thinking. “but Eddie, if you ever need anything, just don’t hesitate to ask me for it, okay?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “The same goes for you…Actually, I came here for something,”

“What is it?”

“I want to take you out on a date. Can I?” he asked. “Wait, hold on, bad wording. I would really, really love it if you’d let me take you out on a date. Would you let me?”

There it was. The question you’ve been dying for since high school. But how could you word that you were scared things would go well and he’d have to leave Hawkins and then you? That this was a big step for you because you wanted it so badly but you didn’t want to fuck it up because you really, really wanted Eddie Munson in your life forever? But what if this is your last chance to have a date with him? What if he finds someone more interesting than you and—

“Look, you don’t have to answer now,” he chuckled. “I can see the gears turning inside your head but just tell me, would there be like, a small sliver of ‘yes’ inside your head?”

“Yes,” you said without a second thought.

“Well, I’ll take that sliver of hope and have you focus on me until you say yes to our date,” he said; a statement bold and free of any doubts. Prepare to be sick of me,”

-

You were tired today. You had bespoke cake orders and God forbid, your client wanted to change everything last minute. Sure, she was willing to pay but the cake has been done. You didn’t have time and quite frankly, you were too stressed to even do anything. Maybe you’ll have cup ramen tonight. You didn’t even have the energy to wash the dishes.

You were on your way out to buy cup ramen at the nearest convenience store when Eddie jogs up to you. You looked at him, surprised. He could see the bags under your eyes and he just wanted to make it all go away.

“Hey, Eddie,” you smiled.

“Tired?” he asked and you nodded, scrunching your face in frustration; not wanting to let any of your anger out because what the fuck—that customer was so fucking rude to you for what? It was a long day and you just wanted to go home and curl up but no, she had the gall to demand good service because she was paying for it anyway.  “Hey, hey, it’s okay. What happened?”

“I’m so tired,” you told him, visibly deflating and Eddie puts you on steady, hands on your arms. You lean into him and he accepts the close proximity. “Oh, God. Want to take a break for a while. Like, five minutes,”

Eddie nodded. “Do you want to go somewhere? Have you eaten?”

“No, I’m on my way to the store to get some cup ramen,” you admitted, hating the way you might seem to Eddie right now.

“No, that’s not going to happen,” he said. “Let’s go back in and I’ll order something for us, hm?”

“But the dishes…I have to clean the kitchen so I can start…”

“It’s okay. I’ll do the dishes while you rest before you do your big girl thing, okay? Let’s go back. Cup ramen won’t give you any nutritional value,” he says and you don’t hear any sort of chiding or mocking. He was genuinely concerned because you look so…drained. You allowed him to lead you back, his hand on the small of your back. You sat in silence as you listened to Eddie call for pizza.

“So, what happened today?” he asked, sitting beside you. He wasn’t teetering around anymore.

“There’s this customer and she’s like, I don’t know. Her husband is like a big time financial analyst and she asked me to bake a cake for her daughter. I did. I finished it, you know? Just like how she and I designed it. The birthday is tomorrow at noon and I’m not even halfway done with it. I can’t fuck up because I’m just starting my business and I’m so tired,” you choked, trying to keep your emotions at bay. “The kitchen is so fucking dirty and I’m not yet done. So behind schedule and I hate it,”

“It’s okay, honey,” Eddie smiles and you believe him. He had that effect on you. “After we have our meal, I’ll help you out to the best of my abilities. Won’t leave you until we’re both done,”

“Really?” you asked, peering up at him.

“Really, really,”

“Thank you, Eddie. I really appreciate it,” you said, laying your head down on his shoulder in exhaustion. He lets you but he was praying that you couldn’t hear how fast his heart was beating right now and you were praying for the same thing.

-

“I’m telling you. We had a moment,” Eddie said. “Like, she was so tired and she let me help her,”

“You’re so whipped,” Robin commented, scrunching her face in mock disgust.

“She laid her head on my shoulder. She made the first move and she said my eyes are like brown sugar.” Eddie shares. “Mark my words, Robin. I will be making her mine,”

“First of all, ew,” Robin said. “If there’s anything I learned in my gender class, women don’t belong to men. Okay? So, don’t say that and second of all, ew! We’ve been here in your house for like an hour and we haven’t heard anything other than your sweet, sweet girl,”

“You know what I mean,” Eddie said. “Steve knows what I mean,”

“Yeah but I’m having fun being single right now but yeah,” Steve nodded. “But…how sure are you that she’s into you?”

“I’m not sure but I can just like, feel it, you know?” Eddie asked.

“But you’re oblivious. You didn’t even give her a second thought back in high school,” Steve said but Eddie shook his head.

“You’re wrong,” Eddie replied. “This girl was the nicest to me. Of course, I’d remember her. It’s not like fear or disgust or anything. She’s just really…genuine.”

“Oh, God,” Robbin groaned. “You’re such a sap, Eddie.”

“Brown sugar, Robin! Come on, say it with me. Brown sugar,”

“Brown sugar.”

-

“Hello,” Eddie greets, leaning on your kitchen island. He has access to the back door now, that’s how close you’ve gotten since that night. Well, he was always there every night to help you out for prep work and orders. He’d wash the dirty trays, wipe the KitchenAid clean, and measure out ingredients. He’d help with the things that Max wasn’t able to finish too, surprising Max in the morning because who cleaned the nozzle for the espresso machine and why is everything refilled?

“Eddie,” you smile at him. It was another of those nights when Eddie decided to drop by. He’d always go in with a smile, sometimes with milkshakes and fries; sometimes with screw-top red wine. You didn’t mind at all—Eddie became a part of your daily routine somehow and he was always a joy to be around with. On his second night, you told him how he didn’t have to come back and help; that you were capable and he knows. He says he just wants to lift the weight off your shoulders. So, in your office, you keep a white board with the scribbling: Eddie’s Tasks. You thought Max didn’t notice it but with the big Corroded Coffin sticker on the corner begging for her attention, she did. Eddie checked his whiteboard, seeing that he only needed to mix your custom sprinkle mix. More blues than reds, less oranges than yellows, lots of pink, purple, and white. A little green. He watched as you silently worked on your station. He saw how you hid whatever you were making from him. He didn’t mind, he knows you’ll show it to him sometime.

“Eddie, can you do something for me, please? ” you asked. You felt bad for asking him for favors but this was something that you needed to do alone.

“Sure, sweetheart. What do you want?” he asked, shaking the big box of sprinkles.

“Can you come over here, please?” you asked sweetly and he found himself gravitating to you. You show him a tray of cookies he’s never seen before.

“A new flavor?” he asked. “Do you need me to take a taste test?” He picks up a cookie and you watch his reaction; his eyes doubling in size because these were so good. The best, even. “Wow, honey. I think this is the best one yet,”

“Really? I’m glad. I’m planning to give it to this boy I like,” you told him and he falters. “He’s in a band, likes red and black together. Do you think he’ll like it?”

Eddie caught on, pursing his lips.

“Yeah, of course. He’d be a fool not to,”

“Hey, Eddie, I made these for you,” you admitted and Eddie could feel himself blushing. “Red and black cookies. Do you think Corroded Coffin Cookies sound nice?”

“It does but you might have to take it up to the intellectual property office for a trademark,” he jests and you laugh.

“I’m glad I don’t have to do any of that, then. It’s for you only.” you said, emphasizing the word.

“Made this for me? All for me?” he asked, his body trapping you on the counter. Both of his arms were on either side of your body and you put the tray away carefully. Closer and closer.

“Yeah. 62% and 72% dark chocolate couverture, smoked flakey salt, raspberry sauce, and freeze dried strawberries.”  you said. You look up at him to kiss his cheek and he laughs, not sure what to do. Is this really real?

“Thank you, darling,” he said, voice deeper and softer. “How can I repay you?”

“How about you take me out on that date?” A/N: Thank you for reading! Tell me what you think! I have a universe all laid out for Steve’s story too. There will be a part two and Steve’s story but that really depends on the response on this fic (aka if it flops or not hehe). 

TAGLIST: @rayodesol97 @moistmocca @munsonology​ @sadbitchfangirl​ @bebe0701​ @tayhar811​ @aol19​ @eddiesprincess86​ @undeadgirlsworld​ @rosemarythl @rosemary_thl @eddiethesexy​ @sister-cirice​ @weaslyslut01 @himynameisjeff​ @captainweirdo42​ @alyisdead​ 

[queenlilliana1]

Ok so currently I’m writing a Lunar Chronicles Fan Fic with the premise that Cinder didn’t abdicate the throne. And I already have an idea for a sequel (might not be the right word for it but whatever). It follows some of the children of the Rampion Crew . I’m already in love with and have like 5,000 words written and I could probably start posting it later this summer. Is anyone interested? Characters include:

Peony and Mealea Blackburn- twins and respective heirs to the lunar and commonwealth thrones.

Peony- Dealing with rumors in the press and living up to her mother’s legacy.

Mealea- struggling with her identity as both a lunar and an earthen while being swept up in a whirlwind romance with the absolutely wrong person.

Riken Blackburn- shell, young, gay, and not ok.

Sage Thorne- resident lover boy of like the whole solar system, hopelessly in love with Peony, but somthing is keeping them apart…

Atlas Mira- nephew of Sybil Mira. His family leads the anti-royalist party. But is he willing to sacrifice it all for her…

Luc Ran Kesley-Benoit- Answers the question: what were the real consequences of Harry Potter naming his kid Albus Severus Potter.

It’s split between a college ( the twins) and a high school setting (Riken), on Luna 20-30 years after winter.

Anyway thoughts?

[h-doodles]

waking up from a very wonderful dream of being spoiled as miranda's little meow meow only to open up tumblr and see v wonderful posts for Miranda & her route got me !!!!!!!!! hewwo!!!!!!!

[delopsia]

Del!!! Happy early birthday!

I'm going to go with DogSled Mail, specifically for "Blame Me". I am obsessed with Rhett and his Queen in that. I think about how they met, how she earned his trust, how they're doing. So I will take anything about them ♥️

Oh wow, I haven't thought about Blame Me for so long 😭 this got out of hand so damn quickly. Join my Birthday Bouquet Event! 💐

It's impossible not to daydream about the memories residing in this cobblestone street's crevices. In the dark of the night, they appear like ghosts, like little pieces of frozen time. Harmless until you venture too close.

The first of them hit you as hard as that old wagon had. A stray wooden wheel catching the back of your ankle, appearing so suddenly that you had no time to react before the impact thrust your forward and rolling over your foot entirely. Dried corn shook from one of the feed bags it had hauled, raining over the top of your head like tiny rocks—an insult to injury. 

If the farmer had noticed he ran you over, you're certain he would have laughed. 

Or maybe he did notice. You're still not sure. All you know is that one moment, you were on the ground. The next, unfamiliar arms were hoisting you up from the dirt, hauling you from the path of a second team of horses, pulling an even larger cart of produce. Your feet fumbled hopelessly across the ground, struggling to gain traction as you were practically drug across the market. 

"Y' alright?" You didn't recognize the deep voice of the man who placed you on the bench. Nor did you recognize his scruffy face, dirt clinging to his jaw, like he had just gotten done playing it. "Was a nasty fall, y' took there." 

Fine. 

You were fine. And if you weren't, it wasn't any of this stranger's business. 

For all you knew, he could have been a spy who followed you from the borders of your kingdom and into this unfamiliar town. It wouldn't be the first time someone had tried to grab you in exchange for a nondisclosed ransom. Though this would be the first time someone had gone to such extents. 

 After a moment, you remembered how to speak. "Who are you?" 

His shoulders rose and fell with a shrug. "'m Rhett." 

Your second memory emerges from the shadows, just a few feet away from the first. It had happened a week after the first when you found the courage and strength to limp your way back into this foreign village, this time in search of more than the sweets made in the local bakery. This time, you were following directions to the rodeo. There is only one way to tell if a man is as good as he says. 

How could you have expected that Rhett would win? And that his award-winning smile would have you coming back again, and again, and again? Venturing into the countryside at his side on some days and into adorable shops on others.

It made no sense. 

A hundred and one letters from potential suitors sat in your study, promising everything under the sun, from incredible travels to more wealth than you could ever imagine. But you were ignoring them in favor of something more. Dressing in clothes lent by your favorite maid and slipping through the cracks of the kingdoms to see the handsome face of a cowboy. 

You meant to tell him. Truly, you did. Rhett had every right to know who you truly were. That a royal title was attached to your name, with a throne and kingdom duties to match. You had been seconds away from beginning your rehearsed speech when he met your lips under the golden glow of the sunset. 

And how is one meant to concern themselves with talking when heaven himself is kissing you? 

What they don't tell you about heaven is that hell is always clinging to his coattails. One moment, you are dancing beneath the moon, and the next, you're scurrying through town, wondering why your lover didn't meet you as he promised. In your two day absence, the shack he called a home had burnt to cinders, and despite the retracing of your steps, not a soul recalled seeing him.

Rhett's most valued possession was a mare the shade of midnight. Whom had a reputation for tilting her head to steal bites of strawberries from the market vendors. You suppose that is the only reason why you sit upon her back, listening to the clack of her hooves against the cobblestone. Several black mares had raised their heads at your handful of strawberries. 

Only one had dared to crane her neck in an attempt to steal them. 

Joy Hawk's voice snaps across the midnight air. Her unintelligible words sound close to the command she instructed you to memorize. Must be something Rhett's horse understands, because she quickens before you can instruct her to, darting down the dark street.

You can see them now. Your men wrestling with something you can't quite see. Yelling to one another. Struggling to contain what you can only presume to be an animal of some kind. It thrashes in their arms. Kicking. Rolling off the ground. Unable to be contained for any longer than a second. Joy barks an order you don't care to hear. Like the Red Sea, they part, and, and—

You recognize that scruffy face. 

Rhett stumbles forward. 

His frail palms reach for the muzzle of his mare, petting her as if to ensure that what he's seeing is real. But she doesn't disappear, and as he feels down the expanse of her neck and up to your thigh, you don't vanish either. 

"Prince Rhett," your firm recognition comes in the form of a wobbly whisper. Not a trace of your courage in sight. 

You can't find it. Not when the moonlight catches on his face, unveiling the way his features have sunken in. Starved to a husk of the man you saw a mere six months ago before he was imprisoned for a murder that you know he did not commit. 

Now, you see why Joy turned her back on the Abbott family. How does one remain loyal when they can do this to their own son? 

"How did you..." Rhett's fumbling to grasp your wrist, his grip so weak that you reckon you could break free of it with the slightest tug. 

All you can do is grasp his hand in your own. He may not be strong enough to hang on, but you are. And you're not going anywhere.

With a heavy sigh, you finally begin to speak. "I have a lot of explaining to do."

[h-doodles]

oh my god. oh my fuvking god. AND ME & @zeleneagle WERE JUST TALKING ABT THE IMPLICATIONS OF THE RESETS AND THE DIFFERENT TIMELINES AND I WAS ABOUT TO FUCKING START ON THE FACT THAT ON THE TRUE END (ATLEAST WHAT I CALL MIRANDA'S GOOD END, BC LETS BE REAL. SHE'S NOT GONNA LET US GO UNTIL THAT.) MC'S REINCARNATION WAS INEVITABLE. THAT THERE IS NO OTHER CHOICE. AND NOW THIS POST?????? HELP. HELPPPPPPPPPPP. SCREAMING SHAKING CRYING BASHING MY HEAD ON THE WALLS!!!!!!!!!!!

also. Cinder when you said:

Bela lost her heart because she cared too much about her family. So Miranda took it to ensure she could never care again, and wow, did that blow up in her face.

Miranda lost her heart because she cared too much about her family. So the villagers took MC because they knew that she was a weakness to the scientist, and the irony of it is so ridiculous it’s almost funny.

They’re mean to protect themselves from being hurt, they both have lost things of grave importance to them and are spending their lives trying to claw it back from the one who stole it, and they’re both holding the string of fate for the ones they care for most. 

Bela chooses to light herself on fire rather than the string. 

Miranda wrenches the string from another and uses its frailty to discourage someone from striking back at her before she lights the whole world on fire. 

IM GOING ABSOLUTELY FUCKING INSANE THEY TRULY ARE TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN AND THAT IS WHY I LOVE THEM BOTH SO INTENSELY. THE WAY THAT BELA IS THE EPITOME OF THE HERO/MARTYR-PERSONA (SELF-SACRIFICING, ALL ENCOMPASSING LOVE) WHILE MIRANDA IS THE ANTAGONIST/PERPETRATOR-PERSONA (SELF-REGARDING, ALL ENCOMPASSING OBSESSION)!!!! LIFE/DEATH PARALLELS!!!!!!!!!!!!! IM BITING YOU. BITING YOU. BITING YOU ABSOLUTELY FUCKING BITING ALL OF YOU!!!!!!!!!

okay asking this again but putting it here lol

what’s miranda’s plan with the cult now that she got mc back? i doubt she’s satisfied with just that. and from bela’s bad ending, it’s shown that she does experiments the same way she did in RE8. will she follow a similar path in this game?

also i NEED to hear more about the whole bela and miranda parallels thing im so sorry

Her main plan after her good ending will be to have a good life with her lover and daughter. The cult will stick around as part of her makeshift family. This has both upsides and downsides in Miranda's eyes. And she's a megalomaniac scientist at heart, so it won't be long before she has her hands in unsavoury shenanigans again, but maybe not as messed up as these ones, but then again ... who knows 🤷‍♀️

You all have been pretty spot on with the parallels so far from what I've seen. 👌

Arla

[pupmusebox]

-

[ Final Fantasy ]

Zack Fair Sephiroth Cloud Strife Genesis Rhapsodos Kuja Vincent Valentine Noctis Lucis Caelum Prickly(Cactaur/OC) Skylar(OC) Nicholas(OC) Tobias(OC) Rafael(OC) Prompto Argentum Ignis Scientia Gladiolus Amicitia Cecil Harvey Luneth Arc Ingus Kefka Palazzo Zidane Tribal Vivi Locke Cole Edgar Roni Figaro Sabin Rene Figaro Cyan Garamonde Gau Shadow/Clyde Setzer Gabbian Squall Leonheart Zell Dincht Irvine Kinneas Vaan Rufus Shinra Tseng Reno Rude

[ Pokemon ]

Togekiss/Hibiki(OC) Gallade/Shinobu(OC) Mimikyu/Tabb(OC) Mewtwo/Vero(OC) Lugia/Calin(OC) Ho-Oh/Kasai(OC) Arceus/Kadavul(OC) Lunala/Artemis(OC) Solgaleo/Apollo(OC) Necrozma/Lux(OC) Dialga/Ruka(OC) Palkia/Rozovo(OC) Giratina/Izael(OC) Latios/Taylor(OC) Latias/Quinn(OC) Rayquaza/Daven(OC) Groudon/Reese(OC) Kyogre/Kaiden(OC) Jirachi/Nova(OC) Deoxys/Alec(OC) Shaymin/Sage(OC) Victini/Flynn(OC) Genesect/Briar(OC) Volcanion/Rex(OC) Magearna/Cleo(OC) Diancie/Blair(OC) Melottea/Wren(OC) Wes Ethan Silver Red Green Adaman Rika Piers Allister Gladion Drayton Crispin Giovanni Archer Petrel N Harmonia Maxie Archie Volo Cyrus Brendan Wally Steven Stone Wallace Lucas Barry Saturn Lucian Flint Buck Riley Hilbert Cheren Nate Hugh Calem Lysandre Elio Guzma Chase Rei Kieran Arven Atticus Giacomo Ortega Grusha Larry Hassel Jacq Salvatore Saguaro Prof. Turo

[ Persona ]

Naoya Toudou Tatsuya Suou Makoto Yuki(P3 MC/Protag) Ryoji Mochizuki Jin Shirato Takaya Sakaki Shinjiro Aragaki Akihiko Sanada Yu Narukami(P4 MC/Protag) Yosuke Hanamura Naoto Shirogane Kanji Tatsumi Tohru Adachi Teddie Akira Kurusu/Joker(P5 MC/Protag) Yusuke Kitagawa/Fox Goro Akechi/Crow Futaba Sakura/Oracle Ryuji Sakamoto/Skull

[ Golden Sun series ]

Issac Garet Ivan Alex Saturos Felix Piers Agato

[ Legend of Zelda ]

Link Zelda Sheik Ganondorf Midna Zant Kafei Vaati Shad Auru Sidon [ Sonic series ] Sonic Tails Knuckles Dr. Eggman Rouge Shadow E-123 Omega Silver Victor Espio Charmy Emerl Chaos Metal Sonic E-102 Gamma Black Doom

[ Animal Crossing ] Tommy Timmy Isabelle Tom Nook [ Vocaloid ] KAITO MEIKO Len Kagamine Gakupo [ Megaman Series ] Megaman.EXE Lan Hikari Eugene Chaud Protoman.EXE Baryl Colonel.EXE Iris Zero(Rockman Zero) X Zero Spider Bass.EXE

[ Fire Emblem ]

Marth Ike Soren Sothe Ranulf Tibarn Naesala Reyson Volug Zelgius Robin(M) Chrom Morgan(M) Gerome Inigo Corrin(M) Byleth(M) Claude von Riegan Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd Hubert von Vestra Seteth Rhea Shez(M) Arval

[ Splatoon ]

Kit/Captain 3 Drey/Agent 4 Zeke/Agent 8 Kyte/Neo Agent 3 Agent 1/Callie Agent 2/Marie DJ Octavio Pearl Marina Shiver Frye Big Man

[ Stardew Valley ]

Sebastian Sam Shane Elliot Alex Harvey

[ RWBY ]

Adam Taurus Qrow Branwen Salem Cinder Fall Winter Schnee James Ironwood Penny Polendina Weiss Schnee Whitley Schnee Blake Belladonna Yang Xiao Long Ruby Rose Lie Ren Ozpin Jaune Arc Sun Wukong Mercury Black Neptune Vasilias Fox Alistair

[ Fate ]

Ritsuka Fujimaru Ozymandias Gilgamesh Caster Gil Proto Gil Kid Gil Setanta Cu Chuluiann Proto Cu Caster Cu Alter Cu (Culter) Archer Emiya Shadow Emiya Alter Emiya Diarmuid Ua Duibhne Saber Diarmuid Aiden(OC) Aouregan(OC) Arthur Pendragon Immaru(OC) Izar(OC) Lugh(OC) Connla(OC) Achilles Chiron Romani Archaman Bazett Fraga McRemitz Asterios Fuuma Kotaru Merlin [ Fullmetal Alchemist ] Edward Elric Alphonse Elric Roy Mustang Envy Greed Maes Hughes [ Black Butler ] Sebastian Michealis Claude Faustus [ Devil May Cry ] Dante Nero Vergil [ Resident Evil ] Leon S. Kennedy

[ Trigun Stampede ]

Vash Nai/Knives Nicholas D. Wolfwood [ Homegrown Pet ] Hector Eli Pierce(OC) [ Elevator Pitch ] Protag Coworker [ Dead Plate ] Vincent Charbonneau Rody Lamoree [ Diabolik Lovers ] Ayato Sakamaki Laito Sakamaki Kanato Sakamaki Shu Sakamaki Reiji Sakamaki Subaru Sakamaki Yuma Mukami Ruki Mukami Kou Mukami Azusa Mukami Shin Tsukinami Richter Karlheinz Kino

[ Mystic Messenger ] Zen Yoosung 707 Jumin Han V Unknown/Ray [ Piofiore ] Dante Falzone Nicola Francesca Henri Lambert [ Fandomless OCs ] Draco Noire (Vampire) Aristaeus (King Bee Demon) Leo Cooper/Chase

[ Genshin Impact ]

Zhongli Venti Aether/Traveler Kaeya Diluc Albedo Tartaglia/Childe Itto Alhaitham Gorou Tighnari Cyno Xiao Wriothesley Neuvillette Il Dottore Pantalone Il Capitano

[ Honkai Star Rail ] Caelus/Trailblazer Blade Boothill Adventurine Dan Heng Gepard Gallagher Dr. Ratio Jiaoqiu Jing Yaun Luka Loucha Moze Sampo Welt [ Jujutsu Kaisen ] Satoru Gojo Yuji Itadori Sukuna [ Dragonball series ] Goku Gohan Android 17/Lapis Cell [ SpyxFamily ] Twilight/Loid Forger

[ YGO ]

Yugi Moto Yami Yugi/Atem Seto Kaiba Joey Wheeler Dartz Rafael Mahad/Dark Magician Jaden Yuki Syrus Truesdale Chazz Princeton Bastion Misawa Zane Truesdale Atticus Rhodes Aster Phoenix Jesse Anderson Jim Crocodile Cook Yusei Fudo Jack Atlas Crow Hogan Astral Kite Tenjo Trey/Micheal Arclight Quattro/Thomas Arclight Quinton/Christopher Arclight Reginald Kastle/Shark/Nash Rio Kastle/Marin Ray Shadows/Vector

[ Digimon ]

Tai Kamiya Yamato ‘Matt’ Ishida Koushiro ‘Izzy’ Izumi Daisuke Motomiya Ken Ichijoji Takato Matsuda Lee ‘Jen’ Jianliang Takuya Kanbara Koji Minomoto Koichi Kimura

[ Obey Me!/Nightbringer ]

Lucifer Mammon Leviathan Satan Asmodeus Beelzebub Belphegor Yuki(OC MC) Xavier(OC) Diavolo Barbatos Simeon Solomon Luke Raphael Thirteen Mephistopheles Michael Mael(OC) Dante(OC) Caius(OC) Silas(OC) Ignatius(OC) Samuel(OC) Belial(OC) Raguel(OC) Theodan(OC) Neo(OC) Zephyr(OC) Kuro(OC) Asura(OC) Meagera(OC) Astraroth(OC) Gardonus(OC) Lilith(OC) Cerberus

[ Twisted Wonderland ]

Azul Ashengrotto Vil Schoenheit Riddle Rosehearts Malleus Draconia Idia Shroud Leona Kingscholar Jade Leech Floyd Leech Jack Howl Ruggie Bucchi Kalim Al-Asim Jamil Viper Ortho Shroud Ace Trappola Deuce Spade Trey Clover Cater Diamond Epel Flemier Rook Hunt Lilia Vanrouge Silver Sebek Zigvolt Divus Crewel Dire Crowley [ Undertale/Deltarune ] Sans Paparus Mettaton Frisk Kris

[ Nexomon ]

Omnicron Ulrich/Grunda Nadine/Ventra Fenrir/Fona Merida/Arqua Deena/Nara Zetta/Luxa Nexolord/Metta Solus/Omnisun

[ 7th Dragon III: Code VFD ]

Yuma Kisaragi Yamato Mishiru Jet Sakaki Yuujin Nabaru Bastian Renstu Kirino Kirika Mei Nami Aogiri Urie Nio Misha Azerin Katanako Chelsea Citorin