digipro-tamblr80

[everdeenwayland]

i think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love.

We are good people and we’ve suffered enough          

– “Seventy Years of Sleep". nikka ursula

[rogue-durin-16]

BRAINS OVER BRAWN

Summary: using herself as bait in order to protect Max, Chrissy is dropped at the Creel's residence with Dustin and Eddie as her guardians. Unfortunately, someone tips off Jason after spotting Dustin outside the murder house.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham

Genre: angst w/ happy ending

Tags:

Eddissy: @chaoticlovingdreamer @acvross-the-universe @queenofstarsanddarkness

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @comfort-reads

Warnings: language, violence, guns, blood

A/N: props to my best friend for giving me ideas to write a believable fight scene between Eddie and Jason, because this one was complicated af. Also say thanks to Grace Van Dien for putting out there which songs would have saved Chrissy from Vecna, we love you queen. Enjoy babes <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

I gulped, my legs wobbling once my white Reebok sneakers landed on the sidewalk by the Creel's house. This was crazy. Was I really doing it?

With each step I took towards the entrance, I became more and more dazed; the Brigitte Bardot's cassette that Steve Harrington had struggled so much to find faintly played through Eddie's headphones, though it was currently being muffled by the stammering of my heart.

What was I thinking? I wasn't brave —not braver than Max Mayfield, at least. But Max was a kid.

I felt a finger gently tap on my shoulder, snapping me out of my negative train of thought that threatened to go downhill.

I spun my head to my right, switching the attention from the ominous stained glass to a concerned Eddie, pointing at his ear as to tell me to remove the portable music player.

With a sigh, I did what Eddie requested and took off the headphones, letting them hang from my neck.

"You okay?" Eddie questioned in a whisper.

He wasn't a fan of the plan. Specially, not of the part in which I ventured into the lion's den to act as bait. He didn't particularly like the idea of Dustin being there either, but groups of three were made, and at the end of the day, the Creel's house was the safest.

If you didn't have me on account, of course.

"As okay as I can be right now." I limited myself to reply, tugging on the sleeves of my newly acquired leather bomber in order to stop my fingers from fidgeting.

"Hey," the tall boy reached for my hand to give it a reassuring squeeze. "We're not letting him get to you again, right Henderson?"

We both turned to the freshman, who enthusiastically nodded. "The moment it gets remotely bad," he raised his right hand, showing me the big radio cassette player we had grabbed from Eddie's trailer. "We're calling in Brigitte... Bardot, or whatever her name is."

Dustin's words made the corner of my lip twist up in an endeared smile, which Eddie turned into a relieved breathy laugh the moment he spoke again.

"You can bet they'll hear her all the way from Indianapolis." He joked, bumping my shoulder with his. "We're not taking any chances here."

"Promise?" It was almost inaudible, but Eddie caught it.

"Promise." He assured me, intertwining his fingers with mine, automatically diminishing my anxiety.

Something about Eddie's presence made me feel unbelievably safe —which was actually hilarious if we considered that, just a week earlier, the idea of meeting him alone in the woods made me uneasy at the very least.

My two assigned protectors awaited in silence for me to be ready and give them the cue to enter the abandoned house.

"Screw it," I let go of Eddie's hand and, after doing a couple of little jumps on the spot, I put back on the headphones and grabbed the door knob. "Let's do this."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

EDDIE'S P. O. V.

I was trying not to pace, to sit still by Chrissy's side as she stayed crosslegged in that dusty attic, holding her hand like she had asked me to. My knuckles had turned white and my palms sweaty from complying.

Her eyes were rolled back while her petite frame slightly convulsed on the spot, making her ponytail and bangs wave as if there was a breeze of fresh air coming from somewhere. The little notepad rested open over the wooden box before us, her last scribble on display for me.

'Thank you ♡'

Thank you. I still couldn't understand why she had trusted me to keep her body safe in the abandoned house while her mind battled with Vecna, trying to slip away from his grasp.

And even though I didn't understand, I would carry out every wish and need she had, because, fuck, she deserved every good thing in our fucked up world.

Every. Good. Thing.

There was a rage, a frustration, tightening like barbed wire around heart after listening in silence to all the bad thoughts she spilled to trick Vecna into taking her; all those horrible things about herself that she, to some extent, believed to be true.

I was ready to tell her the truth once she woke up; how she was beautiful —inside and out—; how she was the farthest thing from a horrible daughter for not listening to her mother; how she was capable and brave, so brave, and a good person.

I was ready to tell her that she didn't have to fulfill anyone's expectations but hers, that she didn't have to change her body to fit into anything, that Jason was the problem for not listening to her and not the other way around.

But to tell her all those things, first she had to fucking wake up, and she had to fucking wake up soon or else...

"C'mon..." I muttered through gritted teeth in the lowest tone possible, unable to refrain myself from emitting any kind of sound.

Stay with her.

Stay with her.

"Fuck." I halfheartedly let go of Chrissy's hand to peek through the boarded up broken window. "C'mon, Dustin." I pulled the flashlight from my back pocket and pointed it to the playground's direction.

On-off. On-off. On-off.

Nothing.

I looked over my shoulder to check Chrissy's state; it hadn't changed, but something inside of me was telling me we needed to rush.

"C'mon, Henderson." I turned back to the window, sharpening my eyes in order to try and see in the dark.

On-off. On-off. On-off.

"What the fuck." I took a step back from the window. Dustin wasn't there, he wasn't in the playground. God, we didn't need more problems.

Staring at Chrissy's vulnerable, entranced state, I debated between trying the communication through light again or going out to check why wasn't Dustin responding.

It was just as I turned to turn on the flashlight again that the front door, three stories down, was slammed open, loud enough for me to hear the hit.

"EDDIE!!!"

My heart missed a beat at the freshman's distressed scream, following by fast, loud steps up the stairs that quickly came to a halt.

Forgetting about my task of remaining silent, my immediate response was to yell back, "DUSTIN?!"

Nothing.

Something was wrong. Something was so wrong.

"Motherfucking..." I muttered, as scared and stressed as I would ever be, running to grab the Brigitte Bardot cassette from my walkman. "Son of a bitch. Fucking... Christ." With shaky hands, I sprinted back to the window, under which the radio cassette player had been set, and threw it in before attempting to make my way downstairs.

I could barely get past Chrissy before my pace died down.

"Holy shit..."

Just when I thought I couldn't be more distraught, I was met with Jason fucking Carver climbing the attic stairs, left arm holding Dustin against his chest while his right hand held a gun up to the kid's head.

Great, just fucking great.

"Fuck me." I instinctively raised my hands in surrender, eyes ping-ponging between Dustin and Jason, whose deranged glare wasted no time in scan the place and therefore finding Chrissy in a matter of seconds.

"You fucking freak!" Jason shouted, taking slow steps forward and therefore making me step back at the same speed. "I knew you had her." I saw his bloodshot eyes stare at what I figured was Chrissy's back, but didn't dare to look at her.

"Dustin, you okay, man?" I chose to ask, as laid-back and possible, my attention focused on the scared freshman forced to walk in front of the jock.

Dustin's quick nod made Jason's focus snap back to us, pressing the barrel against the kid's temple, which made my whole body stop functioning and Dustin's lids be screwed shut.

"He won't be okay if you don't back off."

"Listen—"

"Back off!"

I had no option but comply, trying not to stumble while I mantained the six feet distance between us, only stopping after Jason reached Chrissy.

"Chris?" He crouched, manhandling Dustin with an iron grip to check the cheerleader's state. "What did you do to her?!" He yelled, standing up and turning his head to me so fast that it might as well have given him whiplash.

"Listen, let the kid go, alright?" I nearly begged, seeing Dustin's eyes welling up with tears he refused to spill.

"I'll let him go when you let her go!" The loading of the gun dramatically echoing in the eerily silent attic nearly put me under cardiac arrest.

When my body unknowingly tried to move forward to reach the curly haired boy, Jason yanked him back, a string of curses falling from my lips as he did so.

"Eddie—"

"Henderson, shut up." I ordered with widened eyes. Thank God the blond boy wasn't trigger-happy. "Jason, you don't understand—'

"I do." He growled. "The only reason why I didn't shoot you on sight is because I understand, you satanic freak."

"Dude, I'm catholic." I replied with unnerving levity.

"Eddie! remember your first campaign with us?" Dustin's words were a quick, nervous gibberish. "The Gnolls that attacked the party." Luckily, Jason had decided to try to decipher whatever the kid was saying instead of shutting him up for good. "Gareth's idea. Brains over brawn."

Oh boy, this was gonna suck for me.

"What's he talking about?!" Jason urged me to explain, the loose strand of hair hanging over his forehead trembling. "What does that mean?!"

I shrugged, giving my head a slow shake. "I have no idea, man."

"Cut the bullshit. Here's what's gonna happen." He drew a loud breath, jaw clenching as he tried to put himself together. "You're gonna wake her up." Without blinking, he tilted his head to Dustin. "Or I'm gonna kill him."

God, my heart was jackhammering to the point it made me dizzy. Why did it have to be me handling this situation? Killing off a couple of nightmarish bats would have been much easier than dealing with a delusional, unhinged jock with a gun who also happened to hate my guts.

This was on me for volunteering to be Chrissy's protector. What was I thinking? I wasn't brave.

Fuck it. Bravery or not, I wasn't going to let Jason hurt Dustin or get to Chrissy.

Brains over brawn, Eddie. Time to roll the dice and hope for it to score a high number.

"I'm sure Chrissy would looove to know you murdered a fourteen year old in her name." I commented, risking adding a sarcastic undertone to my words.

"Wake her up, you fucking psycho!"

"Psycho?" I scoffed, looking down at the basketball player. "That's rich from the guy pointing a gun at a kid." I tried to bring in a watered down version of my usual histrionic demeanor, hoping to bewilder Jason enough for him to forget about Dustin. "Maybe I should wake her up. Let her see you like this. She would hate you." I dragged the last two words in a slow tone, trying not to startle the blond senior while simultaneously riling him up.

"You don't know what you're talking about!" He seethed, though there was a tinge of fear showing in his irises. "You don't know Chris!"

"And you do?" I huffed, eyes squinted at him. "You don't even know what she was going through." My reproach was genuine, flashes of Chrissy's tortured, miserable state coming to my mind accompanied by the echoing of her dark confession to Vecna.

"If she was going through anything, she'd tell me!" His grip on Dustin loosened, and so did the need to press the pistol against his head, since he was now motioning at the girl with it. "She trusts me more than anything!"

"That so?" I dared to take a step forward. "Then why was she in my trailer and not in your house?" The guy was now vibrating with rage, and God would I be enjoying it if it was not for the imminent danger threatening all of our lives. "You know what I think?" I taunted in a low voice. "I think you've never listened to her."

"Shut up, Munson."

"You never even cared about what she had to say, did you? And why would you, Jason?" My voice, which was previously a mocking whisper, began to gradually raise. "She was there to sit still and look pretty, wasn't she?"

"SHUT UP!" He finally tossed Dustin to the ground, nearly making him bump into Chrissy, and menacingly cocked the gun at me.

"She's a trophy for you, right? Something to show around." I egged on, trying to convince myself that he would not shoot, when we all knew quite well what he was capable of. "The Head Cheerleader and the Basketball Captain. What a fucking cliche."

"I love her more than anything."

"Really? Because it looks like you just wanted an excuse to come after me with a loaded gun, pretty boy."

"I'm going to kill you, Munson." He declared, knuckles white from the tight grip on the butt of the gun. Fuck, if the bullet didn't stop my heart, the fear would.

"All talk no action. I guess that's why Chris swapped you for the freak, huh."

I knew the nickname would strike that final nerve, so I braced myself and tried not to falter when I heard the bullet being shot.

Though it never came; Dustin had pushed the gun away, forcing Jason to shoot the roof and earning the kid a well packed punch.

Letting out a warcry to hype myself up, I leaped forward, tackling the shorter senior and sending us both to fall on the creaky planks on the attic's floor.

Using the initial shock and the fact the the gun had slipped from Jason's grasp as my only advantages, I propped myself upright on my knees and threw a blow down full force, making it crash into the blond's cheekbone with a strength I didn't know I had, leaving a cut on it from my chunky ring and the jock momentarily stunned.

I clutched my fist with a hiss, feeling my own stinging pain from the hit on my knuckles.

"EDDIE!!"

My head instinctively snapped at Dustin, and I was first met with the cause of the terrified scream; Chrissy beginning to raise from the floor.

"THE CASSETTE!" I yelled at the top of my lungs.. "DUSTIN, THE C—"

Pow!

Jason's knuckles hastily colliding with my jaw marked the end of what I knew to be my strike of luck.

My reflexes were clearly not as good as an athlete's, so in my dazed state, I could do close nothing to dodge a second blow, way more calculated than the previous one.

After trying to shake Jason off me and attempting to unsuccessfully land a couple of hits of my own, I opted to shield myself.

I barely registered the melodic, ironically lighthearted voice of Brigitte Bardot being blasted through my radio cassette player; thankfully, it took Jason so aback that he halted his vicious attack on me.

"STOP THIS!" His hysterical threat came out muffled by the blood thumping in my ears. Through swollen, blurry eyes, I saw how Jason scurried away in Dustin's direction.

No way.

Drawing strength from the adrenaline, I managed to kick the jock in the guts before he could get up. I pushed myself off the wooden floor, making it squeak under my weight before charging at Jason once more with a loud cry.

I knew it was a losing game, and Jason confirmed it the moment he not only deviated my fist to crash on the planks, but also switched our positions; with a crazed glare, he held me in place by taking a fistful of my blood stained shirt to push me against one of the posts supporting the damned attic's structure.

I didn't hear the thump behind Jason.

CHRISSY'S P. O. V.

"Stop running, Chrissy." The devil-like voice was calm; he was taking his time to chase me through the beautiful playground he had recently turned into a goreish nightmare. "It's time."

I stopped running by the swings; my chest heaved and tears blurred my eyes once more. He was right, it was time.

That was my last genuinely happy memory. There was no point in trying to get away anymore, and that broke me.

"Chrissy." I let out a shriek at the closeness of his voice. Frozen in place by the horror I felt, I could only widen my eyes, my legs dangerously shaking while he circled me until we stood face to face. "Stay very still." He ordered, raising his clawed hand until it hovered over my head. "It'll be alright."

It'll be alright.

The words Eddie had scribbled on his notepad moments ago while we waited alone for Phase Two came to my mind, accompanied by his soft half smile as a saving grace.

I didn't know if that would count as a happy memory, but I had to try. Pushing out of my thoughts the fact that Vecna was inches away from me, I shut my eyes and visualized that instant as vividly as I could, tears spilling from my closed lids.

Moi je joue à joue contre joue

Je veux jouer à joue contre vous

Mais vous, le voulez-vous?

"You think a song will save you, Chrissy?" He mocked me, tilting his head to the side. "Nothing will s..."

I had no time to think before the ground split beneath me while everything dissolved into dusty smoke, including Vecna.

I caught a mere glimpse of it before falling into a seemingly never ending darkness that made my stomach sink and knocked the air straight out of my lungs.

And then... Thud!

My feet hit the ground without a warning, cheerleader instincts kicking in and making me react on time so I wouldn't break my ankles.

It took a while for my senses to register anything aside from my hyperventilation, the undusted old wood beneath me and the deafening singing of Brigitte Bardot.

"Chrissy!" Two trembling hands grabbed my forearms and forced me to meet a curl framed face.

"Dustin?" The kid was on the verge of tears, visibly torn between leaving my side or making sure I was alright.

And then every violent sound silenced by the cassette started to come to me; the tussling, the grunts, the hits, Jason's raging screams.

The gun lying at arm's reach on my left.

EDDIE'S P. O. V.

"You think I don't know why you chose Chrissy?!" He yelled, fisting my shirt; had I not being so battered, I would have worried about him tearing the cheap fabric. "You think I don't see how you look at her?! YOU FUCKING FREAK?!" His voice cracked while he shoved my head against the post, triggering a worn out wince from me. Shit, I was so gonna have a serious concussion after this. "YOU'VE" Punch. "ALWAYS." Punch. "WANTED HER!"

Bang!

I didn't even flinch at the shot, but Jason did. His hands instinctively went up to somehow cover his head, but someone else was faster on the attack, shattering a vase against my attacker's temple and successfully freeing me from his iron grip.

Dustin's shoe flashed in front my eyes to kick Jason's semiconscious body off of me before hooking his arms around mines, dragging me away from the jock.

It was only after my perspective of the room had changed that I saw Chrissy struggling to stand up, the gun held firmly by both of her hands.

Like a rabid animal, Jason was soon clambering scarily fast towards me and Dustin, making us both scream as if that would somehow stop him.

"Get off them." Chrissy's stern, tired voice was barely audible over the song, but it was enough to make Jason change his mind about resuming the fight.

"Chris— Chris, it's me, babe." It was scary, how gentle he turned once he realized Chrissy was out of the trance. He wasn't in much of a hurry to rescue her from us now that she was aiming the pistol at him.

"What did you do?" She questioned in a grieving mumble, glassy blue eyes stealing a worried glance at my form.

"Baby, put down the gun." He ordered, getting up from the floor in an attempt to make his way to Chrissy. "I don't know what this freak did to you but we'll make it right."

"Don't get any closer." She warned the basketball team captain, taking a step back in order to rest against one of the wooden posts.

"Babe, I know you're scared—"

Determination and anger twisted Chrissy's face before she tilted the barrel down ever so slightly, shooting right in front of Jason's feet.

"I SAID DON'T GET ANY CLOSER!" Dustin's hold of me loosened, most likely due to feeling more protected now that Jason seemed to be listening to Chrissy. "Dustin? Can you get Eddie to the stairs?"

"I— I can try." The kid was able to sit me up but, despite putting in his best effort, I couldn't even stand up before we stumbled back to the floor. "Fuck."

Chrissy seemed to ponder her options, brows furrowed in concentration.

"Turn around and walk to that corner." She ordered Jason, momentarily cocking the gun at the farthest place from the attic's entrance.

The boy's bewildered eyes landed on us, then the corner, then Chrissy again, switching back and forth between the end of the gun and her cold gaze. "Chris, c'mon." He chuckled, trying not to let the nerves slip. "You're not gonna shoot me."

"I don't want to shoot you." She corrected him, jaw clenched and eyes squinted as if she was battling with her soft self and her own fears to make the following statement. "But I will if you touch Eddie again. So," Jason gulped, now more convinced by his girlfriend's words. "You're going to turn around, and walk to that corner."

Unable to react different due to the shock of the situation, Jason did nothing but obey, walking past us livid with widened eyes and hands up.

"Stay there." Chrissy's stern voice faltered while she put the gun down and rushed to us, her strong demeanor crumbling into pieces once she kneeled in front of me. "God..."

"Bad, huh?" I questioned, trying to lighting the mood but obtaining the opposite.

"It's going to be okay, Eddie." she didn't sound very convincing, but what was remaining intact of my body melted when she took off her scrunchie and carefully put my hair back in a bun. "It's... God, okay. That's a lot of blood."

"Great." I hissed, clenching my fists when Chrissy used her fingertips to move my bangs out of the way.

"Dustin, you have water?" By the way Chrissy's were automatically casted down, I figured the freshman, who kept me sat upright, had responded negatively. "We're... We're gonna get you to a hospital, okay? C'mon."

She moved to my side, draping my left arm over her shoulders and linking her fingers with mines before prompting Dustin to do the same.

With extra support, a little pride and a lot of pain, I was able to start walking.

"Waitwaitwait," I stopped them at the stairs, earning a worried look from both. "Can't go to a hospital, they'll call the police."

"Eddie, I don't know if you noticed but" Dustin motioned dramatically at my upper body with his free hand. "This is bad. Dying beats jail."

"Do I... look like I'm dying?" Chrissy's overenthusiastic 'no!' overlapped with Dustin's deadpanning 'yeah'. "I mean, it does hurt like a bitch."

"Listen, we'll get you to a hospital." Chrissy began, taking a step forward for us to follow her lead. "I'll— I'll stay with you, okay?"

I vehemently denied, feeling instant regret when that simple movement made me prone to lose balance and fall down the old stairs. "What about Vecna?"

"I think the plan worked." Chrissy shrugged, locking her eyes with mine. Now up close, I could appreciate how bloodshot they were. "The song... It wouldn't have worked."

My breath hitched, my left hand tightening around hers as if that would stop her from disappearing again.

It wouldn't have worked.

"It's okay, Eddie. He's gone." I hope. She didn't say it, but both Dustin and I could hear that thought. "Wait here, guys." She asked in a soft whisper once we reached the bottom of the stairs. So different from the harsh tone she had used with Jason minutes ago.

Speaking of which— Chrissy run upstairs, her ruined, soiled skirt shimming gracefully as she did so.

She was down in no time, wiggling Jason's car keys in one hand while the other held the gun limply against her thigh.

"I got ourselves a ride." She stated, sporting a smile way too warm bright for the situation. God, I loved her smile. "I gotta warn you, I'm not the best driver." She commented, throwing my arm over her shoulders once more.

"Well, look at it this way, we're driving to a hospital anyway." Dustin pointed out, making Chrissy laugh, her eyes squinting as she shook her head and casted it down.

Following her movements, my eyes inevitably fell on the stuffed pocket of the jacket Nancy bought her at War Zone, which until that moment had been empty. The two notepads we had used to communicate before baiting Vecna peeked from it.

When she looked back up at me and noticed what had caught my attention, she gifted me a small, timid smile.

"Happy memories." She simply said, only loud enough for me to hear. "I need those."

Happy memories.

My heart made a flip, and I felt like a middle school kid all over again.

[claudysummer]

Just so you know, that Iron Maiden album in Eddie’s tee came out in ‘88 sooo... yeah, fix it pic

[riddlecrux]

eddissy nation im working on this big boy one shot and i can’t stop ✋

[ghostlynimbus]

Trying to get things set up here so:

1. If you're into Drarry (Harry Potter), Reddie (It), Harringrove (Stranger Things), Lumax (Stranger Things), and/or Munningham ( Eddissy ? Eddssy ? Muningham ?) (Stranger Things)

AND

2.Are not an anti / fancop / terf / swerf

Please like/reblog/reply/message whatever so I can follow you. <3

[ghostlynimbus00]

I want a Chrissy lives au (or just a the upside down doesn't come back au? Idk) where Eddie & Chrissy and Billy & Steve end up in this situation where they're like all trying to coparent their kids together.

And it's kind of like they're a divorced couple (both with new spouse's) but no one's really sure who is the divorcees and who is a step parent.

[captainsupernoodle]

surprise! have some hellcheer

The scarf is rough against Eddie's throat, tension slack enough he can only just feel it in its noose around his adam's apple and the hinges of his jaw without restricting his breathing. His grip on Chrissy's sleeves, on the other hand, is tight enough to make his fingers ache, but he can't for the life of him let go. It feels like the only thing tethering him to the earth, the bench he's sitting on and the ground under his feet insubstantial compared to the scratchy material of Chrissy's rain jacket, where he'd thrown his arms up and back in instinctual struggle that flipped to instinctual surrender when he saw her face like a bird on the wing.

He's caught, by the rough yarn across his throat and Chrissy's gaze. The top of his head brushes her sternum. She's bent over him in a gentle arc, one of her big, sparkling smiles fading into an expression a little like wonder, a little like fear. He can't tell what his face is doing at all, but if it's anything like he feels he probably looks like she took Cupid's arrow and drove it straight through his ribcage and into his heart with the steady hand of a hunter putting lamed prey to rest. He should probably let go, reassure her, but she's staring into his eyes, watching him, and her fingers flex. It shifts the scarf over his throat and he swallows hard. 

She doesn't look like an angel, like this, or like a marble sculpture. She looks like a girl with his throat between her teeth and no knowledge of how much pressure she can apply before he's bleeding out. It's rough and imperfect and dangerous, and he wants to learn, wants her to bite down just to see what happens.

He's fucked.

[everdeenwayland]

And I live alone now, save for the echoes

No Vecna AU in which they dated but broke up after a while. A few years later while still not getting over what they had, they meet by chance.

[everdeenwayland]

4,6,9 edissy

4. It’s time to name their pet they adopted together, who gets to name it? How do they come to this decision?

The name of their pet is one of the few things they can't agree. It's strange, because usually one of them caves in easily (mostly Eddie, thought Chrissy isn't too stubborn either), but in this situation none of them want to give in.

Each one choose a name for the pet, and each try to call it by their choosen names, trying to prove which name is better.

In the end, it's Dustin who gets to name the pet something silly, and Chrissy and Eddie agree to disagree.

6. Who wakes the other up in the morning? How do they wake them up?

Eddie is absolutely not a morning person. He thrives in the night, and gets late to most of his classes since he tends to go to sleep pretty late.

But that slowly changes when they start to date and Chrissy spends more nights in his trailer. She likes to convince him to go to bed at the same time, promising him that she'll listen to any songs he wants or something like that. It doesn't take much to convice him, thought, since he loves cuddling with her in bed.

In the morning, Chrissy wakes up earlier, in part because of her busy schedule and because she likes to seize the morning. So, she makes him breakfast and wake him up with kisses.

(Thought, whenever she doesn't need to get up early, usually on weekends and holidays, he tries to wake up earlier than her to return the favor.)

9. During a thunderstorm how do they react? Is one scared? Do they both love it? Do they take pictures? ECT.

Chrissy mostly finds it annoying, on rainy days she finds less excuses to leave her house without her mother meddling. Thunders makes her a bit anxious, but nothing she can't manage.

But Eddie? He loooves thunderstorms. He thinks it's so metal to stand there in the rain and soak himself, and she finds it hilarious, the sight of him drenched, hair plastered to his face.

He tries to kiss her, every time, and she pretends to be annoyed by it so they can have a friendly banter about it.

Hope you like it anon, this was so much fun <3

link to the original post

[rogue-durin-16]

'86, BABY

Summary: The gone-missing Head Cheerleader turns out to be alive; the resident freak is cleared of all charges thanks to her testimony. If Hawkins High seniors thought that was as wild as things could get, they were in for a surprise at their graduation.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham

Genre: Fluff w/ some angst

Tags:

Eddissy: @chaoticlovingdreamer @acvross-the-universe @queenofstarsanddarkness

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @comfort-reads

Warnings: language, mentions of trauma, sickness (?)

A/N: it's me again! Back with —you guessed it— another band-aid fic for my favorite pairing because I wanna viciously tear apart the canon when it comes to them. Enjoy this silly idea that crossed my mind at 4am <3

Gif credit to @vakariaan

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"You know what's blowing my mind?"

"What is it?"

"That I'm gonna be there and you're not." Chrissy's soft laugh ringing in my ear through the phone never failed to put a smile on my face, even now that anxiety was twisting my guts. "It's just dumb. The commencement, I mean. Shit, I don't even know why I'm going."

"Because you're graduating, Eddie!" She reminded me in a bubbly tone, much more excited than I was —which was ironic, considering she was still unable to walk a mile without passing out.

Vecna had really messed her up; not even Doctor Owens understood how she had survived for so long in the Upside Down.

I had a pretty good idea of how, though; she was so goddamn strong, she was capable and resilient. That's how I knew that she would recover, too.

When we first carried her to a hospital, doctors said she didn't stand a chance, and we believed then because by God she looked like she would shatter into pieces the moment someone breathed too hard in her direction.

The sight of her fragile frame shaking on the corner of the Mayfield's trailer in that creepy version of Hawkins still haunted me.

I would forever be thankful to the universe for letting Nancy Wheeler take a curious look around the Upside Down trailer park with suspicious eyes; I would forever be thankful for the brunette mentioning she had seen someone moving on Max's house, and I would forever be thankful that she dragged us there to inspect the place.

Without her, we would have never found Chrissy.

Two Months Earlier

"There's no one here, Nance." Harrington rightfully whined, following Wheeler and Buckley into the clearly abandoned trailer.

"I swear I saw something move!" She assured us, glancing at us over her shoulder.

"I don't think checking this out is your best call, Wheeler." I pointed out with reticence. We could be already on my trailer, but no, we had to go check the weird thing that ran by the window. "Let's at least not spl—"

"Let's split." Nancy and I talked in unison, making me groan. "We'll be quicker." And so we split— and not even in pairs; each of us took off to one room, silent, on edge.

Just as I traipsed to the kitchen, someone stumbled out of their respective room, startling us all.

"Psst! Eddie!" I turned to meet Steve's shocked gaze, eyes wide open. "You're gonna wanna see this, man." I took a couple of wary steps on the boy's direction before he called out for the remaining members of our group. "Nance! Robin! I found her!"

'Her'? Who the hell was her?

My heart stopped beating once I turned the corner to enter the Mayfield girl's room, because Chrissy Cunningham wasn't dead; she was whimpering on the floor, bracing her knees to her chest, pale as a corpse.

"Chrissy?" My voice came out brittle while I tried to process what was in front of me, because I had seen her die.

Just a couple of nights prior, in my living room, when a fucking portal to another world split my ceiling in half. I had seen her eyes rolled back and her body levitate until a red hand yanked her into the crack, taking her to some nightmarish reality.

"Eddie?"

Frozen at the door frame, I could only gulp, feeling all eyes dancing between me and Chrissy. I hadn't even realized that my eyes had gotten watery at the turn of events; the guilt heaving over my shoulders was dissipating because I didn't leave her to die.

Not only that— Chrissy being alive meant I had a chance to clear my name.

But how on earth was she alive?

"Are y-you... real?" Her question, asked in a fearful whisper, snapped me out of my initial shock, pulling me like a magnet to crouch in front of her.

"Y-yeah, I'm real." I assured her with a few enthusiastic nods, trying to swallow the lump in my throat at the sight of her poor state. "Jesus Christ— are you real? 'Cause I— I thought I saw you die." The back of my hand was quick to wipe a rogue tear that spilled from my welled eyes at my own statement.

"Can you tell us what happened?" Nancy questioned in a sympathetic low tone, as if not to disturb the girl.

"I-I... There was... music and you... I h-heard you calling m-my name." I wrestled to take off my leather jacket with shaky hands in order to drape it over her trembling shoulders, while I listened as attentively as possible. "Y-you called... My name through a d-door— I t-tried to f-find you." I was back to wanting to cry at the sight of her lost gaze. "Eddie I... I really tried b-but I couldn't."

"So you hid?" Robin asked, getting down on one knee, mindful of the nodding Head cheerleader whose bluish fingertips held onto the collar of my jacket for dear life. "Where did you hide?"

She shook her head 'no'. "Not where. It... It was a m-memory." Her scared eyes flickered to me. "An... Old memory."

"That memory," it was Wheeler's turn to come closer. "What was it? Did you stay there for long?"

"How did you end up on Max's trailer?" Steve questioned with a confused frown. "Did you, like, travel through memories or something?"

Chrissy's eyes came back to me, as spooked as I had seen her in the woods about a week ago; with each question, she seemed to shrink.

"That's enough." I stated sternly, my heart sinking at the look on the poor girl's face.

"We need to kn—"

"We need to get her outta here, that's what we need to do, alright?" I snapped, wiping the tears off of my face —For fuck's sake, what was I even crying for?— before holding my hands out to Chrissy. "You can ask her whatever the fuck you want once she's not looking like a damn corpse." Her cold hands landed on my wrists while mine supported hers so she could get up. "Hey, Buckley, a little help here."

The dirty blonde rose to her feet and offered Chrissy an extra hand to walk. I was ashamed to say that I alone wouldn't be very helpful, since I could barely stop my legs from giving in.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Yeah, but I mean— shit." I pursed my lips in a tight line, twisting and twirling the telephone cord with my restless index finger. "I could just snatch the damn diploma and leave. It's not like my uncle's gonna come see me anyway."

"So?"

I groaned tilting my head back. "So I'll be on my own for at least two. tedious. hours." I dramatically declared, slapping my thigh loud enough for Chrissy to hear through the phone as an attempt to, cover up my fears with my antics. "Surrounded by people that, mind you, wanted me dead a couple of months ago." The line was silent for an instant before I added, "Some clearly still do."

"You're talking about—?"

"Obviously." I snorted with scorn. "He's been specially up my ass these last three weeks." I could hear Chrissy shuffling on the other side. "Pretentious, glorified hick. God, I hate him." I finished, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Sorry."

"Eddie, it's fine."

Chrissy had said several times that she didn't mind me talking about Jason, but I preferred to tone it down to the minimum; that situation was tight enough as it was.

"He's... getting under my skin too." She sighed in exhaustion. "I don't know how many times I have to tell him that the breakup had nothing to do with you. He just—"

"Doesn't listen?" I finished to which Chrissy hummed affirmatively in response.

"I'm really sorry."

"What for?" I shrugged. "It's not your fault that he's—"

"A jerk?"

"I was gonna say 'obsessed with me'." I made a necessary stop for us to laugh at her bluntness; since things with Carver ended, Chrissy Cunningham had let herself a bit more loose, which was hilarious to see. "But yeah, a jerk too. Your taste in men is kinda questionable."

"Well, I personally think it's getting better." She nonchalantly commented. Her smile, hearable from my end of the phone, made my heart skip a beat. "Okay, enough of Jason. We were talking about serious matters." Oh, that's right, the graduation. "Aren't Dustin or Lucas going?"

"Yeah, no. I told them not to come." I confessed rubbing my forehead with my index and thumb.

"Why?"

"Things are still... Tense?" Chrissy gave me a sympathetic 'm-hm'. "Their parents would blow a fuse if they knew their sweet, innocent children are coming to Eddie Munson's graduation."

"Robin and Nancy are graduating too, right?"

"I mean, yeah, but they'll be with their friends and I don't wanna scare them off."

There was a moment of thoughtful silence, followed by the former cheerleader shifting her position once more. "What if..."

Oh, that smile again. "What if...?" I cued her to continue, raising my eyebrows.

"What if I attended?" My eyes widened, my brain not quite processing her words.

"But you're... Not graduating yet?"

"Eddie." She breathed out a chuckle. "I meant what if I go see you graduate."

It was my turn to laugh, incredulous. "Uhh, Chrissy, sweetheart," she giggled at the name, and I mentally kicked myself; it's supposed to be ironic, man, so can my heart stop doing flips? "You're not allowed to leave the house alone. And for a good reason— you're not recovered yet." At her lack of response, my anxiety rose. "It's not that I don't want you there! It'd be great, it's jus—"

"Not the moment, yeah." She puffed. "But I'm so tired of being confined in my room. what am I? Rapunzel?" I heard something being tossed, followed by a muffled 'Ugh'.

"I mean, you do have gorgeous, silky hair— like a princess."

"What?"

"What?" I parroted, a wave of panic washing over me. "I could sneak in again after that bullshit." I suggested. "Keep your company for a bit."

"That's sweet, but last time you did that, it didn't go very well." She reminded me, making me titter at the memory.

Only a couple of days had passed since Chrissy gave her lifesaving testimony. She was dying of boredom and lack of social interaction, so I had the not-so-brilliant idea to sneak in and visit her.

I fell twice before actually managing to climb up her room; her neighbor spotted me —not a good look for a former suspect of kidnapping and murder—; the police arrived, and Chrissy had to give a false statement while I hid in her closet.

"Yeah, let's not repeat that again." I declared. "I'll just give you a call once I get home."

"I'd love that. Already looking forward to it— one second, Eddie. YES, DAD?!" I separated the phone from my ear as fast as lightning, rubbing the side of my face. Chrissy's voice was lovely but, oh boy, could she be loud. "I'M ON THE PHONE!— NO— NO, I DIDN'T SAY 'EDDIE'!"

"You're a horrible liar, Cunningham, it's actually embarrassing." I teased into the phone, earning a chastising shush from her.

"IT'S NOT EDDIE MUNSON! —OKAY, GIVE ME A MOMENT!" With a sigh, her attention was back to our call. "Dinner time, I have to hang up." She halfheartedly informed me.

"Sure— oh! Chrissy, hold on," she murmured a curious 'yeah'. "How... How's the— the food... Problem going?"

"Oh." I waited in silence for her response, giving her a moment to think. "It's... better."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I mean," I heard her sit up, her bed creaking under her weight shifting. "getting cursed by Vecna was... No fun, so I'm working on it— I really am."

"I'm glad." I trapped my tongue between my lips, fiddling with a loose string of my Iron Maiden shirt. "If you need to talk— well, you know,"

"Alright. Goodnight, your majesty."

"You're there, I know. You're the sweetest, I swear." Oh, erase that lovesick grin off your face, I thought to myself. "I really gotta go now."

"Goodnight, my lovely knight in shining armor." A laugh escaped us both. "And good luck tomorrow!"

"I'm really gonna need it." I muttered, taking a deep breath. "Bye, Chrissy."

"Bye!"

I got up from the floor to hang up the phone, checking my new wristwatch —courtesy of the Queen of Hawkins High herself— while doing so. Closing in on two hours on the phone with Chrissy Cunningham.

Life really was crazy these days.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Before being thrust into the whole Upside Down bullshit and being framed for Fred and Patrick's murders, encouraging a manhunt against me, I would have been ready for this.

I would have been ready to graduate, even with the occasional prep looking down at me, but in that moment in which about eighty percent of the people sitting at the gym's stands wanted me in jail, I just wanted to get up and run away.

Robin had insisted on me sticking with her throughout the commencement, and who was I to complain?

Positive side was, I had made it unscathed through Jason Carver's self-righteous, cheap speech in which he, expectedly, mentioned me and Chrissy a couple of times. Ignorant jackass.

It wasn't even fair for Jason to be the Valedictorian; it should have been Wheeler, but because she had actively defended me in the newspaper, the principal had rigged her grades.

"Eddie, breathe." Robin reminded me when the principal started to call the senior students names.

"Believe me, I'm trying."

"Try harder?" I shot a murderous glare at the band girl, who, instead of being intimidated by it, gave me a sympathetic half smile. "You got this, okay?"

"Robin Buckley!" At the sound of the principal's voice through the microphone, Robin shot up, almost stepping on the green graduation robe that covered her outfit.

"Hey," she whispered while reaching for the matching cap. "Fifth row, far left."

"What?" I squinted at her. Whatever she had said would have been difficult to understand in any situation, let alone when my mind was racing with intrusive thoughts.

"Just look there!" She urged me, awkwardly rushing to get her diploma with a round of applauses placating her nerves.

I was so in my head that I almost missed when my time came.

"Edward Munson!"

Silence. Deafening silence as I got up with all the courage one could gather up in that situation. Fuck high school and fuck Hawkins; I did not deserve this.

Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out.

I took the first step, and then the second one, and then I might have as well been put under cardiac arrest, because the lack of noise was abruptly shattered by an obnoxiously loud round of applause that seemed to resound in the far corner of the gym.

I refused to turn around, yet I couldn't help but take a quick peek over my shoulder, catching a glimpse of Hellfire's youngest members standing up, clapping his hands like there was no tomorrow.

Feeling a little braver, I walked more resolved towards the damn diploma.

I snatched the rolled up nasty piece of fancy paper from the principal, and attempted to make my way to Buckley when she mouthed 'far left'.

Far left what. Far left what. I had already seen the kids, whose parents would surely murder me that same night. This was surely Harrington's doing —who else would be driving these goblins around.

Sure enough, when I finally turned around, I saw Steve giving me a quick thumbs up before resuming his clapping.

"WOOHOO!" That wasn't a post pubescent voice, and it certainly wasn't Harrington's my eyes scanned the fifth row, far left, going over every one of the standing kids to a sitting figure. "GO, EDDIE, GO!" Oh my fuck.

I couldn't help but let out a dumbfounded, breathy laugh at the sight of Chrissy. I didn't know what was more fulfilling; seeing her cheering for me, or the pearl-clutchers shooting her baffled, concerned glances.

When I sheepishly waved at her with a toothy grin and in response she blowed me a kiss, I thought that if Jason Carver had flipped out and decided to beat me to death right there, I would have died a happy man.

I flipped everyone the bird and jogged to Robin, who wiggled her brows at me, patting my back once I stopped besides her. "'86, baby." I whispered, my brown eyes locking with Chrissy's blue ones.

"'86." Robin repeated in the same carefree tone. "You're gonna stick around, right?" She questioned, her curious, distracted eyes glued to the crowd sitting before us.

"And risk to be lynched by a group of drunk teens?" I snorted. "I think I'll pass."

"I think you won't." I spared her a questioning look, seeing a knowing grin tugging on the corner of her lips while we applauded Wheeler; thankfully, the ceremony was coming to an end. "What? You think Chrissy's just here to cheer and leave?"

"Oh, hell no." A knot twisted my stomach, heart racing in my chest. Who the fuck had let Chrissy out. "Heeeell no."

The crowd broke into one last round of cheers while Robin shrugged, head tilted to the side and hands raised. She did not feel bad for me, at all; in fact, she seemed to be enjoying herself.

The naturally nervous girl took off to meet a redhead from band the moment we were dismissed; Wheeler was off to see her family, and I was left alone, unknowingly wandering back to the stands' stairs that Chrissy was walking down with Steve's aid.

"What are you doing here?" I inquired, unable to help the swelling of my heart or the aching beam on my face when Chrissy let go of Steve's hand to wrap her arms around my neck with disproportionate strength.

"I didn't wanna miss this!" She exclaimed, squeezing me tighter when I returned the hug. "So I called Steve."

"You called Steve." I puffed, looking at Harrington over Chrissy's shoulder. "Heavy is the head that wears the babysitting crown, am I right?"

"Tell me about it." He huffed, folding his arms over his chest. "I'm gonna go drive the... Kids home." She patted Chrissy's back while we pulled away. "I'll be back in— what?" He took a look at his wristwatch. "An hour and a half? That okay?"

"I can drive her back." I tentatively suggested, one of my hands never leaving Chrissy's waist. "If that's alright with you?" The girl gave me an enthusiastic nod, a bright smile making her eyes twinkle. Why did she have to be so damn beautiful?

Chrissy opened her mouth to say something, only to be interrupted by Dustin, Lucas and Mike's effusive congratulations, making the girl step back.

In no time, Steve was getting in between, removing the freshmen from me. "Alright, dipshits, that's enough. You'll get your turn, c'mon." Waving us goodbye, he took Henderson and Sinclair, and gave Wheeler a shove, leaving me and Chrissy alone in the crowd.

It was then that I realized something quite shocking.

"You know," I began, pushing away the green robe to tuck my hands on my back pockets. "This is—"

"The first time we meet—"

"After the sneaking in incident." She nodded at my words, a sudden awkwardness heaving over us and forcing our eyes to steal nervous glances at each other before averting our gazes.

"You look good in green." She pointed out, her slender digits picking on her nails in a fidgety manner.

"You look good in general." I countered, taking whatever words she was going to say from her mind and exchanging them for an open mouthed smile. "I like the" I vaguely motioned at her new heavy layered haircut. "hair— Jesus Christ, why is this so awkward?" I whined, doing a full turn.

"I was just thinking that!" She let out a frustrated groan, briefly covering her face. "We've been calling each other everyday for, what? A month?" She exhaled an anxious laugh. "We're just being... ridiculous."

"We are— hey, do you need to sit down?" I frowned at the way her legs seemed to wobble, my hands traveling to her sides, ready to take a hold of her forearms if it was needed.

"Yes, please." She supported herself on my palms while I walked her back and sat her down at the first row of stands. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," I shook my head no, kneeling before her with our hands still connected. I could feel the glares and nosey stares of classmates digging holes in my back. "Baby steps, remember?"

She bobbed her head with closed eyes, tightening the grip on my hands, something that took me back to that first night at the hospital.

"You can't stay here!"

"Suck my dick, Wheeler." I hissed at the girl, stalking out of the ICU room they had just put Chrissy in.

"Hey!" Harrington shoved my shoulder as a warning. "She's tryna help your sorry ass, alright? You're still a wanted man."

"The girl I allegedly kidnapped and murdered is in that room, so I think I'm safe." I retorted, turning around to go back to Chrissy.

"Listen, man." Steve gripped my arm, lowering his voice. "There are people hunting you down. Getting arrested is the best thing that can happen to you." I gulped at his heavy words. "She's safe, the docs will take care of her. We gotta leave."

I pondered my options before shaking my head no. "I'm not leaving her again." Robin threw her hands up before burying her face on them. "Plus, people saw me walking in. The cops will be up my ass in no time. It's stupid to leave now."

Harrington finally let go of me, understanding this to be a lost cause. Waving them goodbye, I went back into the silent room, illuminated by the emergency lights and the screens showing Chrissy's vitals.

Sitting down by her side, I let my hand return to her smaller one. Still half awake due to the music being played in her ears by my walkman, she was quick to squeeze it, as if my hold would stop her from being taken by Vecna once more.

"Thanks for the hair compliment, by the way." She left one of my hands to tuck a rebel strand behind her ear. "My mom hates it."

"That's good." I stated with a proud grin.

"That's great." She corrected; the tension between us seemed to be easing up.

"Thanks for coming." I whispered, my thumb caressing the back of her palm. "I felt like I was boutta die until I heard you guys."

"You looked like you were about to die." She breathed out a laugh, tilting her head to the side. "I never thought I'd see Eddie Munson being scared of highschoolers."

"Well, I never thought I'd see Chrissy Cunningham cheering my name." I quipped, mimicking her head movement. "8th grade me would be blushing like crazy."

"Senior year you was blushing like crazy." She teased in a confident tone.

"You're fucking with me."

"Uh-uh." I felt the embarrassment going all the way up to my face in the form of a red tinge, something Chrissy found utterly amusing. "Oh, c'mon! It's cute!"

"It's embarrassing!" I countered, flicking her bicep. "You've just ruined my whole reputation."

"Hey, it's not my fault that you get all flustered when I call your name." I gaped, speechless at her statement. "What?" She leaned on with a mischievous yet endearing smile I never thought I would see in the Head Cheerleader's visage. "Am I wrong, Eddie?"

We shared a seemingly long silence, just staring at each other, waiting for the other to say something.

It took all my willpower not to avert my gaze from hers and become bashful. "You're trouble." She scrunched her nose, leaning back without loosing the grin on her face.

"Eddie?"

"Yeah?"

She took my ring clad hand in both of hers, placing it on the center of her lap. "Did I ever tell you about the memory? The memory I first hid in." She spared me a quick glance to see me denying before returning her attention to my fingers. "So... I was in the Creel's house, right? And I heard the cassette you were playing— the Corroded Coffin one." She clarified, head still casted down while she twisted my rings. "So I followed the music, thinking I'd find my way back to your trailer but... I was in middle school."

I stayed silent, listening to her story. I didn't dare to connect the dots by myself, fearing I would miss completely.

"Talent show. I was doing my cheer... thing." My widened eyes made contact with hers, looking at me through her bangs. "and you were... with your band." The ghost of a cheeky grin pulled her mouth because she knew she was paraphrasing me.

Suddenly, I was back to being that shy kid with buzzed hair that was at a loss of words with the prettiest girl he had ever seen approached him.

"You said you liked my pom-poms, and it was sooo random and so... Awkward," she grimaced and I facepalmed myself at the comment. "but it made me so happy because I chose those pom-poms. I mean— obviously you didn't know that." She tittered nervous, unconsciously squeezing my hand between hers. "But you just... Said the right thing. To make me happy— happy enough that I could hide there for days. And this past couple of months, you've always said the right things. And I..."

She cleared her throat, gathering the courage to stare at me, and God knows the urge to look away was strong.

"I really like that about you. I really like y—"

"Nope!" I popped the 'p', slapping my thighs before standing up, "I'm gonna stop you right there," declared, a constant anxious giggle falling from my lips while I pointed my index finger at her. "because— no, because things have been wild lately, right? So fucking wild, and yet I don't find a reason to go 'oh no, that's not real'." I explained while pacing. "BUT" Chrissy jolted at my rise of volume. "If Chrissy freaking Cunningham" my eyes squinted at her, hands gesturing dramatically. "says that she likes me, then I might think this is some kind of fever dream, because I've been crushing on you since—"

Chrissy, who apparently was having none of it, had raised from her seat and taken the matter into her own hands —quite literally, since next thing I knew, her cold fingers were cradling my cheeks, bringing me down into a kiss.

It was innocent and sweet and quick. Way too quick. So when she pulled away, letting her hands travel to my chest and ready to scold me, I leaped down, reconnecting our lips.

The second time it was intense, impatient and intimate— intimate enough for me not to care about our classmates' loathing glares; intimate enough for her to feel comfortable when my hands brought her flush against my body, making her arch her back ever so slightly because I kept leaning forward.

And then it hit me —that I was kissing Chrissy at Hawkins High gym, that Chrissy had kissed me at the Hawkins High gym—, and I accidentally broke the kiss because I was beaming like a fucking idiot. Apparently, that was okay, because as soon as I rested my forehead against hers, she was smiling too, and it was the same stupid smile.

"Wow." I breathed out, my eyes surfing the people around us to find exactly what I had expected; horror. "Now I'm gonna be framed again 'cause people are gonna think you have Stockholm syndrome or something." I half joked, unconsciously squeezing Chrissy's sides out of fear.

"Eddie." Taking my chin between her thumb and index finger, she made my eyes meet hers again. "Fuck. People."

"Who are you, and what have you done to Chrissy Cunningham?" I teased, earning a slap on my arm from her, and one of her previous toothy smiles.

Oh God, I was in love.

[rogue-durin-16]

MEET ME IN THE WOODS TONIGHT (part I/II)

Summary: an arranged marriage, an impossible love, a controlling mother and dark spell. A dangerous mix that, along with her yearning desire to be set free, sends Princess Christine's stifling life into a cathartic breakthrough.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham

Genre: angst-fluff (fantasy au)

Tags:

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @comfort-reads

Warnings: arranged marriage, domestic abuse (?), brief body horror at the end (that's probably it, lmk if I missed something)

A/N: Listen my father would actually murder me if he found out how historically inaccurate everything here is. Just so you know. Thanks to this ask I came across for the idea. Yes, I am villainizing the shit out of Laura Cunningham, so what. Anyways enjoy this because I don't think anything similar will ever come out of me <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

Princess Christine wouldn't be able to recall anything she had done or said the evening the new bard was presented to the Royal Court, except for the fact that she felt herself float when his chocolate irises met her sky blue ones. How he made her become dizzy with a mere couple of seconds of eye contact, a bow and a smile, that she would be able to recall, but not much more.

Edward, on the other hand, would describe with scary accuracy every single one of her actions —even if that first official encounter had taken place two years prior.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Christine sat on her ornamented wooden chair by her mother's throne; the young princess could have been easily confused with one of the statues adorning the dance hall —pale, delicate, graceful and immobile— had it not been for her fidgety hands, resting on her lap, distractedly picking at her nails.

She didn't quite know what she wanted, but she knew she didn't want to be there, sporting an artificial smile no one would even bother to look at unless someone from the court pointed at her with adoration. Christine the Kind. Lovely, sweet, angelic Christine who just sat still and smiled.

The smile faltered and fell as she gaped in awe once the young bard entered the stance; he was handsome, but not in the way Prince Jason, her future husband, was handsome. He didn't look perfect and lustrous, he looked disheveled and wild and slightly dangerous, which made Christine's heart uncontrollably stammer.

He somehow looked like freedom.

His long hair, unruly, escaped the cord tying it together at his back when he bowed before the royal family; both his embroidered vest and the white shirt's upper buttons were open —surely, that made Queen Laura seethe—, allowing everyone to take a look at the necklaces hanging over his chest.

The princess found his voice just as sweet and enticing as his smile, and all from sudden, she knew what she wanted. She wanted a little bit of uncanniness, a little bit of liberation, a little bit of him.

It took her a hot second, but when Christine gathered up enough courage, she called over the music and chattering for one of her ladies in waiting.

"What is it, my Princess?" The maid's eyes spared the Queen a hesitant glance as she kneeled by the Princess's chair.

Christine gulped, trying not to flinch under her mother's wary side eye. Turning her face to the court lady beside her, she leaned over the armrest. Throwing one of her hands up to shield her lips from gossips, she whispered in her ear, "Tell our jester to meet me in the woods tonight. By the lake."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

His name was Edward —though Christine only called him 'Edward' once. It was that same night, when she snuck out of the castle with her little brother's help. Frankly, she didn't care much about whether or not she would have company, but she had resolved that the closest thing she would get to breathing again was roaming the land under the stars.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

She... Ran. She ran out of the Castle. She didn't remember the last time she had had the luxury of running at all, let alone like this; hair loose, bunching up her gown in her fists, barefoot not to make any noise, sprinting until she reached the forest's treeline.

Christine slowed down, panting and laughing because she had ran down the hill barefoot like a child and no one had reprimanded her for it. She hadn't told anyone, but after sixteen years of not living, she felt herself slipping into an unhinged state. The Princess desperately needed an out, and maybe, for now, that out could be running full speed in the middle of the night to the point where she became breathless.

At least until she married the Prince of Carverstone. Then she would have to move out of her home, her kingdom, and join her new King. But that day was still far; her father, King Philip, had convinced Queen Laura to let their daughter marry after she turned eighteen. That had been the last time King Philip had a say in any business related to his little Chrissy —or in any business at all, matter-of-factly. Truth was, the King wasn't there anymore. He hadn't been there for a long while, but no one was willing to actively point that out.

Christine shook her head in an attempt to make those thoughts go away. She focused instead on enjoying that little moment she had been granted. With a deep breath, she took a careful step into the wilderness of the woods. The Princess knew the way, she had been walked down that path numerous times —but she had never walked it alone.

She liked it better this way.

And she liked it even more when she heard the delicate strings of the lute being pulled with expertise yet experimental fingertips, echoing near the lake's shore. She found him after an instant of skimming the landscape, sitting atop a rock; one of his legs dangled and the other folded and pulled to his chest.

The boy was too focused on the instrument between his hands to notice the girl approaching him, so she took that instant to quietly observe him. He looked somehow different —softer, calmer, smaller. To Royal Court's dismay, the bard had taken up an impressive amount space with his presence and persona back at the feast. Now, he was so easily swallowed by his surroundings —had it not been because of the music, the princess might just have missed him completely.

"That was beautiful." She dared to speak once the music subdued, making the boy's head perk up with wide eyes. Startled, he stumbled to climb off his lounging place before putting the instrument down.

"My Princess." He greeted her with a bow, and Christine found herself cringing at the title she had heard so many times. It sounded wrong falling from his lips.

"No need for that." She found herself saying with the wave of her hand, surprising him and herself. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you... Edward." The boy, now standing upright, pulled the same face that Christine had made when he referred to her by the title. "Your- your name is Edward, is it not?"

"No one calls me Edward since I was a little boy, my Princess." He pointed out with a sheepish half smile, one of his hands traveling up to play with a loose strand of curly hair framing his face.

"And how shall I call you?" The princess tilted her head down, looking at the bard through her lashes, and the jester wondered if he could fall even harder for someone he would never have.

Truth was, they had met before. She surely wouldn't remember him —a lanky kid whose face and clothes were smeared with black patches—, but back when he was twelve, her caretaker had indulged the Princess's curiosity and taken her on a route to meet Cunningham's working class. Eddie, who helped his uncle in the forge at the time, had observed the young Princess excitedly wave at him with a beam as bright as the Sun. He didn't know what love was then, but he does now. He knows why his own name stumbled out of his mouth when the Princess looked at him like that.

"E-Eddie. Everyone— everyone calls me Eddie."

"Eddie." He felt his cheeks reddening when the name he had chosen for himself fell from the Princess's plump lips. "May I ask you for a favor, Eddie?" He simply nodded, and he knew everyone else would have mocked his eagerness, but she became fidgety. "Could you call me Chrissy instead of... Well... My tittle?"

"Chrissy?" Chrissy. Not Princess. Not even Christine. Chrissy. Eddie nodded again and, after a moment of silence and a few stolen stares, he questioned what he himself had been wondering. "May I know why did you send for me, Chrissy?"

"I don't know." It was a quiet confession, accompanied by an out-of-place laugh. As much as Eddie had loved that melody, it sounded more like a cry for help.

"Do you... maybe want to sit with me?" The boy gestured behind him at the rock and the lute. "I could play something for you."

"Would you?" Eddie's heart swelled at the hopefulness in her voice and, as a response to her question, extended his ringed hand for her delicate one to take it. He found out soon enough he wasn't ready for the tingling shocks her touch would send through his body.

The bard took a deep breath and, guides the Pr— Chrissy to the place he had claimed as a seat. As the gentleman his uncle had raised him to be, he carefully helped the girl climb, making sure she was secured and comfortable before joining her with his lute in hand.

"Your songs were the only exciting thing of the feast." She whispered, blue orbs fixed on how his hands adjusted the instrument on his lap.

"Really?"

She hummed, meeting his gaze. "I really enjoyed them." Eddie took a moment to thoroughly observe her from up close, trying to memorize every detail of her beautiful face.

"I'm happy you found it bearable." She laughed, and this time it sounded sweet and joyful and genuine. Eddie had to look down because, otherwise, he would have kissed her. "Any piece you would want to listen to again?"

"I liked the one about" Chrissy furrowed, squeezing her eyes shut while she remembered. "the... The undead warrior who slayed his master because of the whisper of his own sword." Oh, she actually paid attention to the stories. The bard shook his head 'yes' and, compliant, let his fingertips play the strings before starting to sing.

Chrissy's heart stammered again. She turned lighthearted. Chrissy wondered if the tales about Music Magic were true —if bards could really enchant people, because the feeling flooding her chest with the uncontrollable need to kiss him whenever he sang didn't make any sense to the Princess.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chrissy ran barefoot out of the castle more times than she could count during the past two years. At some point, they had exchanged the melody of the lute for neverending conversations.

Under the night sky, Chrissy had confided in the bard things she never thought would leave her mind. The boy had soon begun to reciprocate it, and two years after the introduction of Edward the Jester in the Royal Court, the pair knew each other like the back of their hand.

Certain people had picked up on the Princess's nightly escapades and the bard's look of adoration whenever he found himself in the same room as Princess Christine.

Said people sadly included the Queen, who chose to confront Edward instead of her own daughter. And he nearly stopped seeing the Princess after his encounter with Chrissy's mother, because the Queen held power, and not just regular power.

Eddie himself had heard the word on the street; Queen Laura was rumored to be some kind of witch. As skeptical as he was, and despite being the last person to listen to tittle-tattle, the boy couldn't help but admit there was something dark and wrong about Her Majesty.

For better or for worse, he chose to keep meeting Chrissy, growing closer to the angelic strawberry blond princess each night.

They had reached a point in which they would trust one another with anything, hence why Eddie didn't understand Chrissy's sudden quietness in a particular night of March.

"Alright, what is it?" He finally questioned, dangling his legs from the top of a tree branch, head snapping from the calm water surface to the silent girl sitting a few feet above him. They had discovered somewhere along the first six months of secret meet-ups that the Princess had a knack for climbing. "Chrissy?" Eddie sighed at the lack of response and, very carefully, stood up on the branch, laced boots balancing his weight as he walked the line to stand by Chrissy's legs, covered by her peach colored gown. "Chrissy."

The Princess's face, until then turned away to the horizon, was casted down to meet Eddie's. His heart skipped a beat when he noticed the tears caught on Chrissy's lashes.

"My birthday is in two days." Her voice broke at the statement, as if she was announcing ominous news — which she was, but she had to complement it with another sentence for it to dawn on Eddie. "I will be turning eighteen, and I will have to marry Prince Jason."

Eddie's visage turned somber then, partly because of the fact that his heart belonged to a girl who would never be his, but mostly because, as dodgy and avoidant as Chrissy became when they talked about her arranged marriage, Eddie could read between lines.

They had spoken about love a lot. The Princess wanted to love and to feel loved; she wanted to marry someone who would make her happy. Eddie had seen how Prince Jason behaved whenever he visited his fiancée, and he had seen Chrissy's reaction to that behavior. She became a lifeless doll who did nothing but smile, so the brunet boy knew the answer to the question he was about to ask.

"Chrissy?" Eddie had to pause and draw in a deep breath. "Do you love Prince Jason?"

Her lip quivered, the answer she so badly had wanted to give getting stuck in her throat. "No." The word tumbled out in a shameful, restrained mutter, which was soon followed by sobbing.

The bard's hands were on hers fast as lightning, squeezing them softly whilst rubbing circles on them with his thumbs.

"Chrissy." Eddie's tone was hoarse from swallowing his own sorrow. He prayed she wouldn't see his feelings dancing in his eyes when she between hiccups and weeping, managed to meet his gaze. "You don't have to marry him."

"I do." She sentenced. "It's my duty." Her digits slipped out of Eddie's hold to grip the branch beneath her as she recalled the words her mother had so many times repeated to her. "The kindoms of Cunningham and Carverstone shall remain together, and for that to happen I shall marry Prince Jason,"

"Chrissy—"

"a marriage will lead to a permanent truce," she went on, shutting her eyes. "A bond neither will break,"

"Chris—"

"I will become his Queen and—"

"But you don't love him." Eddie's words sounded desperate, but he couldn't care less.

"My happiness is secondary. Love has nothing to do with this." She did that sometimes. She sounded like her mother —as if Queen Laura spoke through her. It scared Eddie to death.

Now, Eddie might not have been the bravest boy, but he was in love, so he reached out to hold Chrissy's hands again, tugging on them for her to open her eyes.

"Listen to me, Chrissy. Your happiness. isn't. secondary." With each emphasis, Eddie brought her further down until the girl was hunched right above the older boy. "You said it a million times, you want to marry for love. You want to wake up to someone who instantly makes you smile by just being there. You want- you want to feel their touch and not be repulsed by it."

Chrissy scrunched her nose at the bitter feeling sending shivers through her body whenever Prince Jason got a bit too touchy.

"You want to grow old with them whilst feeling young— because you think that's how love feels like. Young." Eddie's calloused thumbs wiped Chrissy's tears, silently streaming down her cheeks. "These are your words. Not the Her Majesty's, not mine. Yours."

Their foreheads met, and their eyelids fluttered close for a second. The pair remained silent for a minute before Eddie shattered the silence with his craziest idea yet.

"You can run away, you know?"

She breathed out a laugh, slightly turning her face to the side. "Do not tempt me."

"I can take you to the Kingdom's border." Eddie's whispers sounded and felt forbidden, but ever so tempting. "I have a friend there. Another bard. She will hide you." Chrissy hesitantly met his eyes and found nothing but a sincere offer. "If we can get you through the badlands—"

"Would you come with me?" Eddie gaped, expecting everything but that one question. A question that seemed improper enough without having on account what Chrissy had carefully disguised in it.

"I would if you wanted me to." The bard gulped when one of the princess's hands travelled to his chest to toy with the necklaces. "I would follow you anywhere."

Chrissy trapped her lower lip between her crooked teeth and Eddie had to hold back the urge to stand on his tiptoes and press his mouth to hers with iron willpower.

"Meet me here tomorrow night." Eddie breathed, eyes widened at the surrealism of the situation, because Princess Christine was actually considering running away with him. "If we're quick, we will be past the border by sunrise."

"Tomorrow night." Chrissy agreed, finding enough common sense to retreat from the bard's touch. "Here."

Eddie nodded, aiding Chrissy to climb off the tree before doing the same. "At nightfall." He crouched to grab his lute, figuring it was time for both of them to go back.

Before parting ways, the Princess felt a little bold. She planted a swift kiss on the corner of Eddie's lip and trotted out of the forest, leaving the boy to stand dumbstruck in the dark.

Her heart thrummed in her chest while she jogged up the hills, past the guards and up the stairs. Tears began to prickle her eyes again, this time out of euphoria. She was going to be set free —an option she would have never considered plausible before meeting Eddie.

A wide smile graced her face at the thought of riding with the bard in a chilly night of early March.

Careless, she flung open her bedchamber's door, and her beam cracked.

The strawberry blond girl felt the air getting knocked out of her lungs. Queen Laura stood imposing before her eyes, and, in the midst of her joyful state, Chrissy had forgotten to transform back into Princess Christine.

"Mother."

"Where were you?"

"I... I went for a walk." Chrissy felt herself becoming smaller than she already was under the haughty glare of her dear mother.

"For a walk." The Queen repeated, taking calculated treads to circle her eldest daughter. "Do not take me for a fool, Christine." She hissed, getting a featherlight hold of one of Chrissy's tousled locks. "I know who waits for you by the lake." The younger girl flinched when the woman gave the strand a swift tug, only to toss it on Chrissy's shoulder with a grimace. "I am an understanding woman, and, until now, I chose to turn a blind eye at your little whim." The Queen's shoes took her around the petite princess at an unnerving slow pace, keeping Chrissy on edge. "But these... escapades shall end tonight."

Her stern tone echoed in the room like the words of a death sentence would echo in the gallows, causing Chrissy to cast down her gaze.

"You are soon to be married to none other than the Crown Prince of Carverstone." Chrissy's heart sunk. It felt as if her mother had just poured a bucket of cold water over her. "I will not have you running into the woods, in nothing but your chemise, to meet with... With that... bard."

The disgust in her mother's tone when she spit the last word, matched with her contorted side profile, fueled something inside of Chrissy —something dangerous that had been there for a long time, dormant, waiting to be triggered.

She had been enduring for two years the Royal Court's vile utterances about Eddie; they said he didn't belong, that he was just a good-for-nothing criminal's son. He wasn't highborn, and apparently that made him unworthy of his current position.

Truth was, Chrissy would have swapped every single member of the nobility for Eddie.

"Do not speak of him like that." The sentence came out shaky due to the rage, and Chrissy realized she hadn't spoken more than three docile words to Queen Laura in years.

"Excuse me?"

"Do not. Speak of him. Like that." The Princess repeated, this time clearer, daring to look up at the woman who terrified her because, in that moment, anger trumped fear.

"Watch your tone." She warned, raising her index finger menacingly at the young girl gone rogue.

"I don't want to watch my tone."

Queen Laura remained quiet in her shock for a hot second, because there was an utterly disconcerting assertiveness in sweet little Christine's tone.

"You are out of line, Christine." The Queen declared, a tinge of madness striking her visage as a lightning. "I've indulged you enough. You won't see that troublesome jester ever again. I will personally make sure of that."

Chrissy's heart skipped a beat at her mother's threat, because whether or not she had ever said it out loud, the Princess knew.

She knew the rumors were true; Queen Laura could do things— bad things to people. Bad things that couldn't possibly be explained, like what she did to King Philip after he pronounced Chrissy wouldn't marry anyone before the age of eighteen.

She hadn't been able to help her father back then, but she could protect Eddie now.

There was a beat of still, ominous silence, broken by Chrissy's bare feet quickly tapping their way to the entrance of the chamber.

As short as the distance had been, the young Princess's slender fingers had just graced the handle when the door shut by itself.

Chrissy's breath hitched when, after attempting to turn the knob, the latch was mysteriously put on.

"You have exhausted my patience." The Queen's voice had become a whole new level of severe, and Chrissy struggled to turn and look at her. "You will not leave this chamber until your wedding day." The girl's blue orbs widened, becoming teary at the sight of her mother; she looked... dark.

"Let me out." She whimpered, her long strawberry blond locks swinging when she spun to face the door again, frantically waggling it. "Let me out!" Chrissy's fists banged on the wooden surface in desperation when she heard her mother's shoes coming in her direction.

"You are not going anywhere, Christine." Her pitch had a surreal echo in the room, as if it had been amplified. "It's time for you to sleep."

Chrissy felt her upper body losing the strength to try and run away; she watched in horror how her arms fell limply to her sides a second or two before her legs gave out. Her lids became heavy —too heavy to keep them open. Still, she didn't stop fighting that urge.

Through her blurry vision, she caught a glimpse of what she guessed was her mother; a livid slim figure, too tall to be human, stared down at the Princess with milky colored orbs.

The Queen kneeled, taking one of her hands, now scored with black inked veins, to tuck a strand of hair behind Chrissy's ear.

"You shall only wake up when I tell you to do so." She ordered, wiping away a tear washing down the side of the Princess's face. "Sleep, Christine."

And just like that, Princess Christine plunged into pitch black darkness, giving in to her mother's curse.

[ghostlynimbus00]

i want an accidental pregnancy au with Chrissy/Eddie

[ghostlynimbus00]

I don't know where the idea that chrissy is 16 came from, though I've seen it stated as though it's fact a couple times. She’s deffinitely a high school senior, she wears a class of '86 pendant the entire time she's on screen which means she is 17/18 (in canon). And if eddie was originally supposed to graduate in '84 and is now (hopefully) graduating in '86 that makes him 19/20 (in canon). That's a 2 year age difference, give or take slightly depending on where their birthday's fall in the year (again, just in the canon we have, fanfic can of course do whatever it wants).

Anyway... facts! I know some people don’t care for 'em, and the duffers like to play fast and loose with 'em anyway but I like 'em!

Yeah i never know where anyone in fandom gets these ideas or how so many of them start believing so strongly in them.

Tbh i don't generally care how old Chrissy is in most fics, it's only in this case (an accidental pregnancy au) that I'm particularly interested in the possibility of a slightly larger age gap. Because it'd just add more potential flavor/complexity/conflict to the situation if she was younger and not already a legal adult/almost a legal adult.

I get that that's not everyone's cup of tea and I would never suggest that everyone should enjoy the things I enjoy but I just wish people would stop trying to get me to stop enjoying the things I enjoy just because they don't like it.

Like no one's forcing them to be here, if they don't like the stuff I post or the ships I ship they are more than welcome to leave.

[ghostlynimbus00]

I'm still unclear on what Chrissy x Eddie is called. What have y'all been using?