Choicelesshope-aaa - The Choiceless Hope In Grief. - Tumblr Blog

If you are not too long, I will wait here for you all my life.

Oscar Wilde (via sunsetquotes)

Isn’t it amazing how every day can be an adventure!

@vecnaaone​ said: [Vecna - normal canon verse, or Renewed Form AU to Chrissy]. ❝ imagine what we could do together. ❞

no. no, no, no, please—no.

her whole body freezes for a moment—shatters. one breath, two, then a thousand as she struggles not to choke, not to scream, not to fall onto her knees in fear of what's to come. of whatever horror he has ready for her the minute she turns back to face him. how—how did he trapped her? she rushes to think. how, did this happen when all of them had been so careful with their plan; mindful of every possibility.

is—is there a chance for her? a second escape from his domain? her heart refuses to even consider it, at first. the darkest part of herself reminding her she’s not like her new friends—not bold like max, skilled like nancy, strong, smart, or experienced as they had proved to be. no, she’s just her. weak, helpless her. a casualty that shouldn’t have made it this far ( yet she did ). tears gathering in her eyes, and for a moment, she’s ready to give up. ready—to fulfill the part that had been written for her. shaking—chrissy presses her lips and eyes shut, far from ready to see him again but knowing he’ll make her if she’d even try to resist, and it’s so hard not to resist.

but wait… wait. what if this was not the end? the group had to be out there and they had managed to bring back max once, they talked about it. yes! if only someone reached just in time, if only someone played her record before it was too late. ❝ what are you— ❞ she forces herself to talk, barely any sound in that strangled gasp that left her mouth. quick, go on. try something, anything. ❝ i don’t know what you mean! what could i possibly do— ❞ to help, to be of any importance for whatever end he’s pursuing against their world.

the clock is ticking, and in a last effort, chrissy manages to turn just enough to get a peak of his image. a first struck that could make it easier to get through this whole nonsense somehow—yet, when she succeeded, it wasn’t the crimson monster waiting for her at the other end of the room. was he making her see that blond man? and if that was the case, why? who is he?

Anyone else ever wanna just… make pre-established connections between characters without having to RP it out cuz you’re a tired busy adult?

Like just hit each other up with shenanigans and tomfoolery and ‘they would totally do this’ sorta bs.

Because when you are imagining, you might as well imagine something worthwhile. 

he’s definitely not the only one fearing the sudden halt of his own heart after their clash just a moment ago. shaking—all blood drained from his face, his arms clinging to the big bag of groceries as if his whole life depended on it, will watches the other with wide eyes and embarrassment settling at the top of his cheeks, the high of his chest. stupid—you were in charge of just one thing, weren’t you? he thinks. the fear he had felt at the sight of the broken bottle and the other’s screams quickly turned into the echoes of the guilt-ridden monologue he’s so familiar with. god, just when all he wanted was to leave a good impression on him.

❝ sorry! sorry, i just—i didn’t— ❞ he hadn’t meant to, of course, to forget using his own walkie-talkie or being a little more careful with his arrival, perhaps—too focused on the nightmares, the body memory of the horrors he and his friends knew so well, managed to steer him from the real world, turned him to every attempt to solve the puzzle, spare as many damages as he knows it is to come.

reasonable—one would think, that he wanted to be of use in this situation ( still—a poor excuse for his stubborn mind not to take up on him for giving the other such a scare )

❝ im—wait, let me help you with that ❞ it takes but a few seconds of nervously trying to leave his bag somewhere before he rushed to his side, helped him, and made sure that he hadn’t injured himself with that fall ( seemed to be the case, from where he was standing at least ). ❝ dustin did tell me before leaving. about the radio? it’s not that i didn’t want to, i—got distracted but it won’t happen again. ❞ a promise followed by a brief yet awkward silence, from which he retreated to take care of the things the group has sent for the dungeon master: food, clothes, a blanket, and some beers, that after a quick consideration, he resorted to offering him one from the pack so as to help him calm down.

❝ he’s not close though. jason. ❞ he added as he worked on organizing a few things. ❝ someone suggested we should keep an eye on him, as he’s the only one other than the police looking for you. last time we checked he was at bennys burgers but—i don’t think he or his friends would start moving for a few hours. they seem too tired for that. ❞ exhausted, definitely hadn’t slept for the last few days from the look of them.

@choicelesshope​​          :          ❝ i…i didn’t mean to scare you. ❞ ( from will! )

talk about scared. all frantic high-pitched screams and a rush of adrenaline that spikes eddie to grapple the first broken bottle he can find in the boat house and charge at whoever opens the door. and then it’s none other than william byers, zombie boy, small and lanky dungeon master with the bowl cut that the metalhead unequivocally cringes at whenever brown eyes drift over the hairdo.

“ WHAT THE SHIT,” he shrieks and jerks back until he trips over the tarpaulin that entangled itself with his already wobbly legs. “ shit, man, gave me a fright there. could’a stabbed you, byers. ” not a second passes in which eddie munson isn’t flinching at every sound he hears outside rick’s house. a snapped branch, a car driving by, gravel crunching beneath someone’s nearing footsteps.

his breathing has become a staccato of jagged breaths expelled in tandem with the violent beating of his heart. “ not to be off-kilter or anythin’, but why did i have to take thiiiis” - he gasps and violently shakes his walkie-talkie - “with me if you don’t intend to call me with it? can’t just barge on me with the cops looking for me. thought you were carver for a second there.”

@noesapphic - happy birthday, noe! anne shirley cuthbert from anne with an e

→ “it’s been my experience that you can nearly always enjoy something if you make up your mind firmly that you will.”

(   eddie   ).

It was like a dream, seeing her here, where danger surely lurked at every corner. Within himself he could feel an old stirring of heartstrings, desperately wishing that she were anywhere else but in this place of hell. Those eyes of hers were like stars, and what he could see of her soul, a pure pale light. He was somewhat dazzled, for a moment, just by observing every part of her that he could with a long gaze.

Those hands on the front of his clothes, where stains of red were still present, but no longer were the wounds there. Such a chaotic mess it had been, and he was still wholly confused as to why he had been kept. There was no use for someone like him. He was to be the sacrifice… or so he had thought. Buy them time. Buy them time… Were the last moments he recalled, before the monster came to grant him new purpose; a forcible, unwanted pact…

  “…Chrissy…” To hear her speak sent him partially out of this trance, and some light confusion danced on his features as she was urging him to go. He shook his head a few times, but she already had his hand in hers, and for a few moments more he was lost at what to say. Words were not coming, and he followed along behind her for a few feet, before he halted. “Chrissy– I can’t…!” Suddenly, he spoke, loud enough to break past his parting lips, but still quiet as to not spook whatever else may be near.

One look her way, again, and his expression softened with that desperation. “I can’t go with you…” How much he wanted to, so badly. Just to let her lead him away, but the part of him that was still theirs, still with the last lingering bits of his heart; He had to warn her. “I’m… - It’s too dangerous, Chrissy.” She doesn’t know. How could she? It was going to hurt him the most, and the creature that did this to him knew it so.

| @choicelesshope· |

he speaks—once, her name something she’s not entirely used to hearing falling from his lips. a rarity that not only once had made her heart skip a beat, now—quickly buried under the pressing matter of his safety. unheard, forgotten. there was relief in the feeling of him following her, the weight of his hand as she led him a few more steps making her focus on nothing more than the words she had taken as her oath: he’s alive. i can’t believe he’s alive—he really is here. he won’t be left behind, not again. not again, not again, not again.

❝ it’s not far! ❞ she answers, for he speaks a second time. her own words come out trembling, pleading. why would she have to plead? there’s no certain answer, at first, though—perhaps she already feels something’s off about this. about him, about his reticence to go on. an unsaid truth she doesn’t want to know about, as long as she can remain in the idea that if she kept pulling, kept carrying on, didn’t let go of his hand, everything would be alright. everything, somehow, would ultimately be alright.

but—how long can blind faith go unshattered? how long can one heart remain strong when all around the world is consumed by shadows? slowly, her steps start to falter, her grip shaken, and though he cannot see it yet—tears have drenched her cheeks and veiled her vision. she stops. a few seconds that felt like hours before she turns to him: far from ready to finally know the truth, but brave enough to try it anyways.

❝ why? ❞ in her eyes it's written a silent request: say it. just say it, i can take it. ❝ you said you can’t, what—what do you mean by that? ❞ and as another thunder roars in the distance ( a reminder from this world that not every threat has been dismissed, not yet ) her eyes land and remains in those big brown eyes of his. a cruelty, really—why does it feel like it’s not been a minute from their conversation in the forest?

no—not a minute, but the wishful thinking of a future that slips away with every second he takes to answer her questions.

moodboard: bi demigirl anne shirley cuthbert

@deservedbetter said: ▲! ( send me a ▲  & i will put our characters’  names into a generator and write a starter based on the scenario that comes up! )

result: eddie and chrissy taking care of a bunch of orphan puppies and/or kittens.

❝ careful with that one, he’s faster than you’d think! ❞ her words intertwined with laughter, both of her hands busy with the tiny little creatures wiggling on her lap while she's sitting outside his home. there’s—a perfectly peaceful feeling about this whole scene, she thinks. like it’s one of those lazy summer days when you were still a kid and it was only expected of you to spend hours under the sun; no work, nor the constant eyes watching which is gonna be your next move. her mom is not coming home until tomorrow, and you could definitely tell by how quietly happy she looked that she had been waiting for this little chance of freedom for a terribly long time.

chrissy returns one of the kittens to the box where she found them, her attention turned to the remaining one ( smaller in size, meowing with all she had ). actually—it’s not like she had ever had any experiences with animals before, those were unquestionably not welcomed at her place due to her mother’s allergies ( and several reasons more ) making her feel a little clumsy trying to carefully make sure the kitten was comfortable against her chest, a little scared even—that she would slip from her hands and so, giving her both joy and a little heart attack when the kitten choose to start climbing up her clothes.

❝ i can’t believe someone just threw them out like this. ❞ she confessed, glimpses of how sad she had felt when spotting the box near the road, despite every effort to temporary setting aside a mood like that. she chuckles, finally turning to him with gratitude written all over her face and excited to see how he was dealing with his own share of tabby troublemakers.

❝ anyway, thank you for letting me stop here on my way back, i really needed a minute to figure out what i’m gonna do next about all of this. ❞

psa that ill be posting iconless and maybe have less time to work on things cause im visiting my family for a few days + my laptop died so im using my mom’s

tell  me  why  you  followed  my  blog  and  tell  me  what  made  you  stay. 

The plot of Anne With An E is basically “ginger orphan with PTSD shows up and verbally beats the townsfolk into feminism”

(   vecna   ).

choicelesshope asked:

“ why are you doing this?! ” ( will to vecna? 👀 )

  “Why?… Why not? When this world is already in such shambles. Humanity, the virus that it is, has destroyed most of what was good in it. Forests? Gone. Animals? Most coming upon the brink of extinction, or soon to be.” His cold, pale blue eyes were trained on the other, focused on what he could see from that nearly innocent face. “Your kind deserves what is coming to them…”

| @choicelesshope· |

he was no stranger to fear. many have been the years in which will had felt its ice-cold grasp grabbing him from the back of his neck—paralyzing every thought, every breath in him. a warning—i’m coming for you, there’s no escape.

yes, many have been the years he has feared a bigger threat, learned to look over his shoulder, prepare for the worst so that he would end up here. in front of him—a red sky, lightning in the distance. him—a sight new to him though he feels his presence has been always there. watching, whispering to him.

❝ but it can’t be the only way! ❞ he’s not gonna deny it, he knows of the damage his kind is capable of, he has it written all over his skin. ❝ there’s good out there! there are people that are good! you’re just gonna—tear it all up ‘cause some people chose to do mistakes?! ❞ and you’d guess screaming at something like him wouldn’t be the smartest thing to do—but it’s the only thing he can manage. feet planted in his place, his heart running at full speed. he’s scared, terrified even, but also enraged. done. tired of every second he has spent just surviving, marked by what happened three years ago.

for at least this time, he’s not gone hiding again.

The nerd I reblogged this from has a quality blog and I recommend you all follow them

dont know if ill be able to be here today :( have to work on a big presentation im terrified of for tomorrow and i havent even started on that. wish me luck. 

                              Are you a Stranger Things RPer?

Then reblog this post with the following information in the tags:

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NOTE: If you have a multimuse blog, list out all of your muses with each one being a separate tag with the above information.

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I’ll never, never look at myself again. Yes, I will, too. I’ll do penance for being wicked. And I’ll look at myself every time I come into my room and see how ugly I am. And I won’t try to imagine it away, either. Henceforth… my kiss will sit on my lips for all of eternity like a rose that longs to be plucked, but never will. Anne with an E | Season 2

@vvilla1n​ said: “ don’t pretend like you understand. “ / for zoya (:

❝ of course, because you’re in such a position to make demands right now. ❞

alright—she was perhaps going against the resolution the six of them had agreed upon just this morning: remain at a distance, wait until a sensible course to face any of this had been decided, and above it all, do not visit him alone. do not give him a chance to use you like he has used so many others in the past. do not think of yourself above that possibility, you wouldn’t be the first to make that mistake. 

yet—here she was, as she had answered each of his calls in the past. a silly girl, no more than a moron fed on lies. 

and the truth is, she had been set on acting like he didn’t even exist anymore. she had carried on with her day busy with the thousand demands the palace had in store for her. she had been free—more or less, and only until the night came for her. only—until everyone was asleep and her thoughts became the kind of storm she couldn’t handle. the winds and thunder that should have been hers to command, turned against her. her curse—a ghost she now could have at the reach of her fingers. 

❝ so let’s try again, shall we? unless, of course, you’d prefer to be left with these ones as your only company? ❞ a line of sun summoners, young soldiers that a few years ago hadn’t even dreamt with a power such as this, projecting their light so there would be no room for him and his former abilities. and, she wondered—did he think of her when he look at them? did the keramzin orphan haunt his every thought? certainly, she hoped that was the case.

❝ what was it then? what was the reason for all the misery you brought upon us? your people. ❞

hunger games characters: Clove

We’re gonna kill you. Just like we did your pathetic little ally… what was her name? Rue?

hunger games characters: Foxface

There’s something about that sly grin that makes me sure that befriending Foxface would ultimately get me a knife in the back.

okay so,,, weekend wasnt all that great for me BUT i kinda have a minute now so ill be working on some drafts (or,,,,,,,,,,,,, adding all the h.unger g.ames muses i need now that im rereading the saga? who knows)

Anne With an E (2017— )

a little psa that if you feel like your female muses are being neglected always throw them at me because female characters need to be protected at all costs and there shouldn’t be a reason why people are neglecting female characters in the first place because they can be just as developed and complex and well written as male characters okay thanks