Caged violets

Somewhere in that cage, with that beast, is a girl named Violet Moore. The true act of cruelty; they released the part of her soul that was worthless and let it wander in a body that's neither human nor animal.

[cagedvioletheart]

1965.

"What's your name again?" The males voice cut through the air like diamonds do to glass. His blood would have taste nice on her lips, but one quick thought about those piercing screams and she fights back the wolf that keeps beckoning to come out. She hadn't gotten the control that she was told she could attain yet, but she was improving in becoming herself again. Or at least some version.

"Violet." She answered. Her eyes kept firmly on the man at hand as his drifted towards her bare legs. The past few months had shown her that her parents had been wrong about men and their intentions, not all of them saw something unclothed and assumed it was an invitation, but this man seemed to be the poster boy for their cause. Older, alone, leering. There were times when Violet wished she was able to tell the wolf which human beings to kill. She hated herself for that.

"Violet. Matches the color of your eyes." It doesn't. "Please sit, I'll go get my camera."

She had been desperate enough for cash that she had accepted the man's offer to photograph her in exchange for a couple of bucks. It was well paid, easy work without strings or commitments. Though she doubted the conditions of such a job had been fully expressed. She wouldn't say yes to him, and if he forced himself upon her then he would be paying out more than his wealth, but it didn't stop the nervousness that came from such an encounter from rising into her throat.

She sat on the chair, one that looked like it had been taken from a movie set. Violet couldn't afford such a luxury of a day at the theater but she had fawned over the pictures that she saw plastered on the newspapers. Bridget Bardot and her feline flicks and shameless shoulders; if Violet were still Violet she would have looked at an actress like that and not felt any jealousy, but at this moment she felt it seethe between her pores.

She could hear the man's footsteps patter towards her as she straightened herself out. Her hair was loose, her face smothered in make up that she had stolen from one of those fancy department stores. Nothing Violet ever did could make her look beautiful, but she knew that men like this one disagreed. She was the object of desire as he was for her wolf. Knowing which one was the true monster was one of the rare times Violet couldn't place all her belief in the pure evilness of the demon within.

"So Violet, have you ever had your photo taken before?"

"Yes."

"So you know to expect a very bright flash?"

She huffed as she replied, annoyed at his condescending tone. "Yes."

"Alright then. Smile."

She didn't do as much as raise the corners of her lips when the light flashed. He doesn't notice, his gaze grazed over her body rather than focusing on her face. He stroked her heel with one gentle sweep. It must have taken a lot of energy for him to keep his tongue from rolling out of his mouth and drooling all over her. Then he said something surprising.

"Wolf, right?" Violet almost threw up from the shock. "Wha- excuse me?" She wrapped her arms around her body, feeling the claws as they begged to be released. Threats were always around her. Packs she didn't belong to stalked her every move, hunters traced her steps and drunken men tried to lay their hands upon her breasts only to be greeted by a howling creature and a bloody end. This man, whoever he was, didn't fall into any of the categories, making her heart beat with anticipation of something cruel, as surprises so often were.

"You're a shapeshifter. Don't act coy with me, I can smell the blood on your bones beneath your skin. So... unless you are some other brutal form of animal, I'm guessing you're just a common werewolf." He smiles the deadliest of smiles. The kind that make you forgive a man before he's even hurt you. "Though you Violet are not so common. You almost had me fooled for a while there."

If Vi's eyes truly could turn violet, they would have at that moment; violet for a lust for violence. Her skin turned cold, the hairs on her neck pricking upwards, she tried to contain her fear in the huge lump that was emerging in her throat. The one that came when she most desperately wanted to scream.

"What do you want?" She asked. Bluntly. "I want? Nothing. Well, some company I guess. Someone to talk to. It can be hard to find a decent shapeshifter these days and humans aren't exactly the most understanding of people." He places his camera on the side, keeping it upright to make sure it doesn't fall the way Violet's dignity feels like it's descending. "I'm sure you get that too. How different we've become. Lone wolves, if you pardon my pun." He laughs but Violet doesn't find him amusing. "What are you?" She realised she hadn't moved from the chair, glued to it in a terror stricken incapacity. Her situation needed to change. She needed to change - stop being so trusting of humans when she can't be sure that's what they are.

"A shapeshifter like you. I can change into a hawk, hence why I have such an eye for beautiful things. Things like you." Violet released her disgust into the air, clasping her hand to her mouth as she tried to capture the sound. She wasn't sure if it was his incessant need to flirt with her, or his reference to her as a 'thing', though it would fit her monstrosity well under different circumstances, as if she was some object to be toyed with. She found the strength to move and sped out of the building before the wolf decided to make his appearance. Without mastering the art of transformation, there was no telling when her demon would overtake and slay whoever came into her path. No innocent blood would be spilled tonight, not tonight. Not on the day her human self was born. She was home quicker than usual, running till her feet had become numb to the blistering pain that consumed them. She coward up to her kitchen corner, forming herself into a small ball and breathed with staggered injections of oxygen that she couldn't get enough of. The hawk landed on her window exactly an hour later carrying a small note.                               Violet,                               Do you believe that people can change your life?                               Terrence. She couldn't answer, or she didn't want to, but somehow he knew. Whether it was from the small glance of desperation she gave him as she looked up from reading the note, or the way she folded over the corners with such precision whilst sitting in untidiness, she didn't need to believe. She just needed to be given a small slither of a chance that she could trust someone. Anyone.

[river-castillo]

River hadn’t actually thought of what Violet’s job position would be. She was not qualified or trained enough to be considered a fellow investigator. Hired help seemed far too condescending. “Assistant. For now, you will be called my assistant. Later on, as you improve your skills, you will be promoted to be my fellow investigator. But, for now, you will be named my assistant. A companion of sorts. I hope that you do not mind your title,” she explained as she walked around her apartment. She shifted papers around to create a walk way. So many cases. So many murders, many of them cold cases. So many ghosts searching for answers.

There was one ghost however whom she hadn’t heard from in months. A young soldier named Cristian Castillo. A kind, brave, and somewhat self righteous man. And a loving brother. Perhaps there would be a way that River would be able to communicate with him again. She had lost contact with her younger brother as well. Hopefully he was doing fine and hopefully, he had not been affected by the magic that ran through his veins.

"You will learn then," River said, turning to face Violet. "Do not be afraid to ask for help, but do know that I expect a lot out of you since I do not welcome outsiders very often. How old are you?" She raised an eyebrow, keeping her gaze on the woman. River was not one for rules, but she did respect those she liked. Violet was a rare exception. For now, she was. River still wasn’t quite sure what to think of her. "Prove to me that you are capable of this work."

[cagedvioletheart]

Vi's heart leapt at the idea of being someone's companion. Mere weeks ago, the very notion would have stifled her, causing her worries to go into overdrive. Case in point: how often had she denied her packmates any form of relationship? Only one had tried but perhaps there was a reason for that. Maybe Rayna saw Violet's fear to trust and took it for something predatory. No, that was idiotic. The younger wolf saw Vi as weak not strong.

              How old are you?

It had been years since Violet had thought to ask herself that question. Birthdays flew by, the day just as monotonous as the rest blending into the remainder of the year. She was in her seventies, she knew because of the decades, but that wasn't something she could admit without seeming like a joke. In the natural world, she appeared young. There was a way of figuring out how much but it varied from wolf to wolf. It had been a while since Violet had aged, longer than was usually expected. She settled on the first number that came to mind.

"23. I know it's- I'm young but I swear I have the maturity of someone much older." At least half of her statement was true. "I can do it. I promise." For once, she might not have to break her word. Her senses were attuned to tracking, listening in on conversations others wouldn't have a chance of hearing, catching scents no one else would dream of following. This was something she could do. She finally had some kind of purpose, a silver lining to an otherwise vicious curse.

[clayton-doyle]

listen here

[sweet-jennifer-lawrence]

[cagedvioletheart]

Violet Moore, 1965

[cagedvioletheart]

Character Development: Basics and Cosmetics #01

A G E; 75, appears to be 23.

D.O.B; 20th December 1940

H A I R  C O L O U R; Brunette

E Y E  C O L O U R; Striking blue

N A T I O N A L I T Y; American

A C C E N T; American, Midwest

H E I G H T; 5'8

W E I G H T; 128lbs

T A T T O O S or P I E R C I N G S; None

M A R K S or D I S F I G U R E M E N T S; Numerous scars from wolf bites, a faded birthmark just beneath her armpit.

N I C K N A M E S; Vi, Lettie.

B I R T H P L A C E; Utah, USA

[river-castillo]

River sat down on the stool next to the counter. The fact that she let someone in, some stranger in, was remarkable. Before, she worked alone, aside from her ghostly friends. Joaquin was gone though and he would never be coming back. They would never meet each other again. River knew that after she died, she would not be going where he had gone. And now, she had a new friend, Ash, who helped her. River knew though that it was better to have people who were living. It was difficult to let in people who were alive. They would end up dead sooner or later. The ghosts usually stayed around for years.

"Have you done any kind of research before for a case?" she asked, glancing down at the ground. "I would like you to find out everything you can about these people’s lives. I want to know their friends, enemies, family members, and if they had jobs, their co-workers. Create a report and write down any observations and notes that you can think of." River picked up a pen and wrote down what she wanted on a piece of scrap paper before handing it over to Violet.

A part of River was actually excited to have a co-worker. No, a partner. Violet was now a partner. She had someone else to help her. She was possibly a new friend. For too long, River had been alone and perhaps Joaquin was right. She needed to be with people who were alive. “I do believe that it will be a pleasure working with you. Do you have any other questions?”

[cagedvioletheart]

Violet's heart beat faster as River explained her tasks as... whatever she was. It was real. She was really doing it. Taking her first steps towards happiness or at the very least contentment. The air became thicker as Vi imagined herself skulking in the darkness, exploring new leads with her new mysterious friend and keeping any information about their lives, past or present, out of the conversation to focus only on the current situation. It sounded too appealing to be a possibility. Her instincts had changed now that the wheels had begun to turn, changing for intrigue and excitement to fear and a crushing sense of failure. Yet her feet stayed firmly planted to her position and her hands unwillingly accept the note in which her job has been written.

"N- Actually, what's my job exactly? Am I like an assistant or hired help or a fellow investigator?" Violet blushed as she realized how silly she sounded. She was desperate for affirmation that somehow this was some kind of relationship, not just a transaction. Even if it was kept professional, it would be nice to have someone outside of the pack, or someone human for that matter. If Vi was going to go through with this and not be the coward she felt like being, she had to make this apart of her fantasy. Violet Moore if she had never been bitten. Then by the time reality came to light, she would have something to fight for.

"By the way, I haven't. Done any research like this before I mean." She was lying but unlike the majority of her lies, this one wasn't easy to see through. A few years back, it must have been twenty by now, she had looked for her parents and found them. She was going to make her way down to them and show them what they had created. Keep the vow she made to herself the day she was turned that she would come back and kill them for murdering the girl she once was. She couldn't do it though. Compassionate towards even the most evil of beings.

[leias-organa]

[cagedvioletheart]

"Mom... mom... what do you mean you'll miss me? Where are you going?"

[cagedvioletheart]

Death Sentence {featuring Enya Kovar}

"Ah Violet, you're here. Take a seat."

It was unusual that Vi was called straight into the lion's den. The politics of being a pack member were out of her jurisdiction, which only covered the orders passed down to her via Gavin who got them from Russell who in turn received them from the Kovar's. It was by rare coincidence that she faced Enya, her fearsome alpha, but the tide in Bindlebrim was changing. Violet was changing. Had they noticed too?

"Violet. You've been a loyal member to us for some time now and I'd like to thank you for everything you have done, but we feel that your position as caretaker has caused you to take on a bigger task than we originally planned for you." Vi's throat twisted tighter. "We have been informed that Mr. Doyle has been somewhat of an inconvenience to you" there's a moment where she wants to defend this, but one look in her leaders eyes renders her voice useless "and well, we want that to end as much as you do."

Enya smiled at her, but the rest of her face is frozen in a coldness that runs skin deep. It's true, Violet wanted Clayton out of her life for good but their methods would never be the same. She wants his happiness, their owner wants his demise. There was a chill that set through her bones as she considered what she would be asked to do. She was the bait, or at least that would be the only explanation of why she would be in that room, yet none of her fellow members were being briefed when usually they would be in something as delicate as this. A one time ordeal that went under the radar to avoid suspicion. Maybe Enya though Clayton was so worthless he couldn't adjoin the dots.

Enya wades her way across her desk to sit closer to Violet, asserting her power by looking down on her less than doting subjects. "Do you know about Elena?" Violet gulped as she nodded her head. Elena. His one time stupid mistake which had failed to be contained. Perhaps he had taken her advice and went back to her. Some advice Violet, you've probably just got him killed. There's a sting that hits her right in the chest. "Then you know about the baby."

The words provoked a stricken expression. One fueled by shock, empathy and a tad sweep of jealousy. "Ba.. baby?" There was a smirk that covered Enya's face as she watched Violet struggle to catch her breath. Clayton never told her there was a child in the mix. He couldn't have known.

"Yes dear, they have produced a child. But you aren't to worry about that, my beloved brother Evan is eradicating the issue as we speak." The thought of an unborn being, plagued with the same curse as them only with his blood running through it's veins, being torn from the world it hasn't seen made her sick to her stomach. Enya hands her a bucket from underneath the desk and she vomits. The alpha knew her actions were ruthless, inhuman enough to cause a decent person into chucking up their dinners and yet the smirk still remained on her face. "Hush now dear, we have work to do."

*

It takes some time for Violet to calm. More than she was comfortable with showing a murderer who sees humanity as a brutal weakness to be exposed and abused. She couldn't do anything about that. The compassion within refused to be left without acknowledgement. "Are you okay now Violet?" There was no time to respond, only a hot hand lying on her shoulder to show any interest in the answer. Even the dormant hand felt like a slap in the face. "I know this has been rough to hear but I think it's time we discuss your role in all this."

She sat up and waited to be told her duties. Vi couldn't say no, she had no option. Refusal was a form of betrayal. Better off one of them being in the ground than two, especially now they both had something worth fighting for. "You want to use me as bait." Vi held her eyes to the ground, ashamed that she would accept though it would haunt her for the rest of her remaining years.

"Oh no dear. I want you to be the one to deliver his head."

[river-castillo]

River watched the woman as she delicately ran her fingers along the strings. The woman was not afraid. In fact, she appeared to be rather intrigued by the vast amount of articles and files. The papers flapped against the wall a little as the air conditioning system switched on. She kept her eye on the woman, making sure she didn’t disturb anything and shift her files around. Everything had its place and even though her apartment seemed like a big mess, she knew where everything was.

"It is a pleasure to meet you," River said, turning her eyes towards towards the files and newspaper she’d just set down. Her other cases had hit a dead end. There weren’t any more leads and she couldn’t break into the police department or coroner’s office. All of the people she raised from the dead didn’t remember much about their own deaths. Things were starting to get difficult and being without Joaquin made everything a bit harder. "So, are you going to hire her?" Ash asked, appearing on the counter. River glanced at the ghost and rolled her eyes. "Leave me alone for now," she said under her breath so Violet would not hear.

River nodded with a small half smile. River Castillo was not her birth name. Her birth name was much longer. Francesca Marie Rivera y Castillo. When she broke away from her family, she shortened her name from Rivera to River, completely dropping her first two names. She never liked them anyways. With her new name, she had a new identity. “I am something like that,” she replied. She was a freelance hacker and a private investigator on the side. She didn’t officially have some sort of company or business name. River often times scanned newspapers for mysterious deaths and looked for cold cases to solve. “Yes. It would be helpful to have another hand.” River opened a file and tossed it down to the other end of the counter top. “This is a recent murder involving two young woman and a young man. The police are unable to find any leads.”

[cagedvioletheart]

There was a hushed noise that escaped the brunette's mouth which Violet failed to catch. She would have asked for it to be repeated, only it wasn't the sort of sound human ears were allowed to hear. It was a voice best kept for monsters. Vi's brows furrowed as she considered what could have been said, a niggle in the back of her mind telling her it could be about her. She pushed the thought away. Not everything is about you Violet.

She nodded her head at the woman, diverting her attention from the board and onto the matter at hand. "I read about it. Where do I start?" Her eagerness to get started wouldn't go unnoticed, but whether it was perceived as a good trait Vi couldn't tell. She had felt this sudden urge to impress her new boss, more than she ever had with her alpha's, who she spent most of her time trying to avoid. She didn't want to get by unscathed this time, no she wanted to be seen. To shine. Was that foolish? Most likely, but recently Violet had been finding herself unleashing a side of herself she buried long ago; a hopeful girl instead of a bitter animal.

Vi laughed nervously as she walked closer to her new... friend? In Violet's world, River was closer than most. There was nothing in the air that screamed T H R E A T. It was a privilege she decided that she wasn't going to squander by labeling a relationship that hasn't even formed yet. At least there was potential for friendship, that was a bright start. Raising her hand as she spoke, she stood upright and looked at the woman straight on, a slight smile stretched across her face. "Violet Moore at your service."

[clayton-doyle]

stay safe | clayton & violet

[clayton-doyle]

              “No. I can’t leave when I have something to live for.”

It was like having bitter ice cubes jammed down his throat. He could scarcely believe his ears, and (in order to protect himself) he ran over her words deliberately slowly, letting the pain take over bit by bit.instead of being consumed by one huge wave. And still it winded him. She had something to live for now. He did not know what (or who) it was, but he knew that it was not him. This would be the answer she would give him if he ever decided to tell her his feelings for her, and - finally - he realised that she was right: ‘they’ were never meant to happen, in any form whatsoever.

               Clayton had stood through all sorts of pain,                but this was something he could not take.

The summer breeze tugged at his clothes, as though telling him to step away from the woman he could not have. It was fruitless and an endeavour that would only end in misery. For so long he had used her image as his guiding beacon, leading him out of darker days when his blood was constantly spilt over his skin. But all her ethereal value seemed to vanish at her refusal to accompany him out of this town. I’m offering you freedom, he wanted to shout. This is our only fucking escape, and I don’t give a shit if you never want to see me again. Do you hate me so much that you can’t even walk out of hell with me? 

Some distant part of him knew it wasn’t him that she hated, but rather the pack, their history, and the fact that they were not human and never would be. But that did not diminish the sudden sense of abandonment. He had always thought that they could be each other’s comforter (lover), but the unknown hands behind this life seemed to have other plans for them. She would stay, and what would he do? Well, it sounded like she was telling him to leave, to go on without her. What kind of repayment would that be? After all the times she bandaged him and healed him?

                And yet,                 if he stayed,                 she would undo all her past goodness                 in the simple, deadly act of loving another.

So when she put her arms around him, he returned the embrace with unsteady arms, knowing that this might be the last time she would allow him this luxury. She had been his protector for too long; it was time she looked after her own damaged soul, by spending her days trapped here with someone who could bring a smile to her face. She felt so real against his body, but she would soon turn into a ghostly memory, one he would try his damn hardest to forget and never would.

No words left his lips as she walked away. He had to let her go. He wasn’t sure what his next step was, whether he would stay or leave, but whatever he chose to do he would not do it for love. All along he had thought she was his hope, but now he understood.

               She was a fairytale.                A facade.                A lie.

[clayton-doyle]

stay safe | clayton & violet

[clayton-doyle]

His pleas were met by deaf ears and a stubborn mouth. The thing was, he could understand where she was coming from. It was true; he felt the minuscule change in the air every time their eyes met. He only thought it was a good sign because he needed to believe that it was. Violet, on the other hand, needed to believe in the opposite, because she had built a wall against her heart and was focusing all her energy into surviving.

             Surely this was the reason for her insistent denial.               He was just another obstacle she needed to leap across.

Clayton refused to back down though. The fact was that she was still wandering the streets alone, her back unguarded, and he knew it would not cease to bother him. So he sighed and pushed his hands into his pockets, gaze still averted, stomach sinking at the way she said Elena’s name. He almost wished he’d just kept his mouth shut, that he’d never gave Violet a weapon to use against him. It only added to the layers of guilt around him, and they felt like a straitjacket, binding his limbs until it was difficult to breathe.

             But you’re the one I want to protect.

All his courage seemed to desert him. How on earth had he thought he’d be able to confess this to her? His lips felt so dry, his tongue so heavy. “This isn’t about being a man, Vi. Let me return the favour. I can’t stand knowing you’ve done so much for me while I’ve done nothing for you.”

As the words flew from his mouth, he was suddenly hit by daring inspiration. He felt his pulse quicken as he considered this idea. It was something he’d thought about for many months but never acted on, because he did not feel that he was worth it.

             However, Violet Moore,               she was definitely worth what was on his mind;               that, and a whole lot more.

"Okay, I’ll stop following you. But you and I both hate the pack, and I still owe you. So let me do this one thing for you. Please. This way, I’ll be out of your hair for good.

"Let’s leave. Leave this fucking town and the pack behind us and get out of here. There’s got to be some way to break the spell right? Just for the two of us. Can’t be that hard.” He took a deep breath. “And once we’re both out, you can be as far away from me as you like. There’ll be no ‘us’ to drive you mad.”

             Freedom had never tasted so bittersweet.

[cagedvioletheart]

Violet stood back, stumbling over her own feet. She had dreamed of leaving Bindlebrim so many times, but never had she uttered her fantasy. It lost its dazzle the moment it fell from ones lips and failed to come true. Inadvertently, Clayton had broken a small dream. One part of her felt like she should be grateful for being grounded back into reality and stripped of her foolish hope.

                               "No."                                (It can't be done.)                                "I can't leave when I have something to live for."                                (The changing tide.)                                "Not when I waited so long to get it."                                (Violet Moore is coming back.)                                (I can't leave her again.)

The offer was placed on the table with shaky hands and desperation; he needed this. He wasn't going to survive here. He needed an escape, to retreat and find new footing. Her heart yearned to help him, aid him in his new life. Make sure he didn't make the same mistakes. But she couldn't, he can't take his baggage with him and that's all she is. B a g g a g e. A heavy load weighing him down like bricks attached to his ankles as he wades down the river.

She was in her head again, thinking too poetically about a man she really barely knew. She didn't have the first idea where he had come from, what made him the man he was or even what his favorite color is. Yet she had created some tragic mess for her to fix, just so she could avoid internal reflection. She couldn't blame herself. Her inner self was tormenting to observe, filled with twisted betrayal and a girl clawing to be released and have her innocence restored.

There was nothing left to say. She had let him down, again. She could help him get away but that would sacrifice herself and her position within the pack that she no longer cared for. She would have to be killed for him to even stand a chance. There was no way he would allow that to happen. So she would do it in secret. Set up the opportunity, find a way to break the curse and distract the others by any means necessary.

          Violet Moore had risen from the dead,           regaining the one thing that made her parents proud           - her selflessness.

Her friends used to joke 'don't mess with Lettie, she's fearless, causes all kinds of trouble'. It had been true. She never backed down from a fight, never feared what might be said about her if she defended a friend who lost her value. To her, they were worth more than any stupid society could measure. Then she was bitten. Lettie became Vi and she lost that tenacity, the bubbly sense of humor and purpose. But now the latter was returning to her, spinning its wheels in her gut and shining on the Omega she had come to care for.

She placed her arms around him, embracing his lean body for the first time without lusting for comfort. This time she simply wanted to hold him. She held him tight for several moments, letting his confusion fade until he would begin to understand. Or at least she hoped he would. This was her final goodbye.

                                                                       "Stay safe."

The words festered in the air as she walked back into the darkness, on her way to River's to help with her newest assignment. She was wearing something she hadn't expected to arrive with such grief. A smile.

He was finally going to be just fine.

[clayton-doyle]

stay safe | clayton & violet

[clayton-doyle]

He was used to her flinging angry words at him, but even so he was unprepared for the barrage he received as he stood before her. "I don’t need to be fucking saved!" And although the sentence was thrown at him, it sounded as if he wasn’t the only one she was trying to convince, as if she needed to justify it to herself. She was not him, and she was desperately trying to make it clear, to the both of them, that she did not want him to be a part of her life.

However, the eternal question remained: why? Why couldn’t she succumb to the fragile bond they had and help him forge something sturdier out of the ashes? He tried, on the spot, to come up with some excuses for her, to try and comfort himself that she would, one day, come around. She was scared, perhaps, of the others ridiculing their friendship. Or she was too proud to accept him as a friend: she could do better.

And yet the more he listened, the more he realised this wasn’t just about him. He listened to her confessions about the pack, about being what they were, about being someone she truly wasn’t. He understood (or, at least, he thought he did). He could never be her friend, her confidant, because he would only be a daily reminder of the agony they lived in. She didn’t even want to be in the pack any more; what chance did he have of securing her as his? Especially when she had Phoebe.

A knot tightened in his windpipe.

       (Clayton thought he’d be okay with this.           He thought he’d be fine with loving from a distance,         without reciprocation or acknowledgement on Violet’s part.         But this was proving a feat more difficult than he’d imagined.                     He had underestimated the strength of his own heart.)

"I’m not…trying to save you,” he insisted, finding that he was unable to meet her eye. “I’m just trying to look out for you, the way you did for me. And if it makes you feel better, just imagine I’m not doing it out of friendship, but out of obligation.” He couldn’t keep the bite out of his words, that bitter disappointment of not being worthy enough, or not attaining the approval of his  g o l d e n   g i r l , who, second by second, seemed to be slipping from his grasp and into the brightness of better, greater things.

"I just want you to be happy too. I can tell this woman - Phoebe - makes you happy. Good. Go there more often. Just please be careful." His shoulders slumped; he felt so useless. Why hadn’t he been the one to provide her with this sanctuary? Was it truly because they had ‘too much history’, as she so finely put it? "Just let me make sure you’re okay. You’re my packmate. I know you and I don’t want to be in the same ‘family’, but we are. It’s my duty to look out for you."

                                                 It’s my heart telling me to protect you.

[cagedvioletheart]

Compassion was a weakness of Violet's. His bitter tongue, disappointed lips all making her heart squeeze with need to make him feel better about himself. It didn't matter in that instance that she never wanted to talk to him again. All she cared about was that she couldn't let him down.

"No Clay, it's not. I can look out for myself. Look I'm sorry, I'm sorry that I had to tell you this way and that I wasn't able to make myself clear. It's not just the history that drives us crazy, it's u s. There's something there and it's not healthy. You have to see that." She said, her pulse thumping from the adrenalin that comes from being honest.

Truly, she was teetering the edge of whether she wanted him in her life or not. Her words sound like she was driving him away but she knows Clayton Doyle. She knows that he picks up on different things than most would. He will hear 'there's something there' and it will give him hope, and maybe he will leave her alone for while, but he'll be back. 'Something' is all that he has. 'Something' is all that she has.

It's hard to let go of the only thing that makes you feel A L I V E. All that time she spent with Phoebe, helping out River, was all nothing but distractions. But Clayton. The way his soft brown irises meet her harsh blue for a fraction of a second and then part, afraid of lingering and understanding each other, that's the thing she wants to run away from. Her fears, her dreams, her world; all piled up into one spindly man cursed with the same demons as her.

She doesn't love him, at least not yet. This keeps her white pillow soaking up warm tears. She doesn't let him get near enough to her heart to break it, but it doesn't mean he won't find a way in, a loop hole to scram through. He came so close, so often. He thinks he loves her. She knew this the moment he told her of his one night stand so regrettably and full of shame. It's a facade. A feeling to hold on to.

                    He doesn't.                     Because he doesn't know her.                     He only knows the shell that tries to push the monster away.                     He doesn't know the sunshine that was Violet Moore.

"You should see your friend, Elena." She spitted out her name, unsure if it was voluntary or not. "Find someone else you can protect. Be the man I know you can be."

[clayton-doyle]

stay safe | clayton & violet

[clayton-doyle]

She saw right through him. As always, he felt small compared to her, like an insect under the glare of a microscope, being scrutinised, being scanned for injuries and wounds. That was not the case this time. This time, she was looking for truths, and she had secured her first with that blunt, knowing question.

He actually held his breath as she lowered her eyes to the ground. He could feel the heat (unwanted, hated) rush into his face, making him suddenly despised the sun hovering over them, watching like some curious spectator. She knew. Her question was posed as good as a confession: I know what you did. I know. And he realised that he had been too clumsy, assumed too much. Of course she had caught Elena’s scent. They lived together, for god’s sake, and she had the same abilities as him. Again, words fail to surface. 

                      Oh how he must’ve looked like an idiot, standing there,                       expecting some  m i r a c l e  to whisk him away.

"She doesn’t," he replied, and his answer was a confirmation, yes, I slept with someone. "I’m—”

He held his tongue. What was that? An apology? He fought to regain his whirling thoughts. He and Violet, they were not even friends; an ‘I’m sorry’ from him would have no standing between them, no meaning. “I - I’m here because…” go on, just fucking say it "because I’ve been following you. For your safety," he added in an anxious burst. "After you told me about the hunter girl, I couldn’t just let you, y’know…this - this has nothing to do with Elena.”

There, a name, something for her to seize on. It hit him, abruptly, how resentful she was of her existence, and of his night with her. He wanted to ask what it meant to her, why Violet couldn’t even look up to meet his gaze. But this thought did not spark hope in him this time. For some reason, seeing her standing so resolutely apart from him, his mad desire to tell her what was in his chest was dampened, put out like a dying flame.

           There was no room for his revelations today, not now.            Especially not after the way she’d looked at that trainer, that woman. 

                          “It was just a one night stand.”

[cagedvioletheart]

"I don't need to be fucking saved!" She practically screamed the words. E l e n a. The name wasn't familiar to her, but if she meant nothing to him it wouldn't have entered his thoughts. She thought warm water would erupt from her tear ducts, but instead it remained a soft glaze, not willing to let itself fall until her anger had ceased.

                                                                                                                         ANGER.

All because he cared for her, yet he spoke of another. Selfish Violet needing him for herself but not wanting him at all. In the end, it would finish in heartbreak on either side. Their friendship, if you could call it that, had an expiry date. She shouldn't pursue it, allow him to think there was a chance for them. It wasn't the right thing to do. But then, what about Violet was right?

"I don't care about who you're spending your nights with or who whatshername is. I want to move on with my life, but you keep coming and d r a g g i n g me back. The fucked up thing is I let you, I want you to, but I can't do this anymore. I can't be in this fucking pack, or in that fucking house, or pretending to be someone I'm fucking not."

Her face was still clear from the waterworks that would surely turn up later, the honesty making her feel free. She'd wanted to let it out for so long. To let him know she didn't belong just like him, that she had been pretending all this time, that she had only wanted to survive. He seemed to be listening so she continued.

"It took me too long to realize that I'm still half-human, I know that. It would have saved us a lot of pain if I'd come to that conclusion a little sooner. But when the picnic stuff happened and the pack was beating on you, well... I hadn't met Phoebe then. You mean a lot to me Clay, and I want you to be happy, but not with me. We have too much history."

Her heart dropped to her stomach. She was letting him down, again. She had been so angry at his mention of Elena, yet she had now done the same thing. How would she explain her relationship with Phoebe to him? How could she let him know that after he spent years trying to break down her walls, all he needed to do was rebuild them? Make her feel worthy instead of trying to be her protector.

(Men and women were not of the same species.) (Her lover had taught her that.) (Along with self-respect and strength,) (yet she still couldn't let Clayton Doyle in her heart.) (He would be the only one who could truly destroy it.)

[clayton-doyle]

stay safe | clayton & violet

[clayton-doyle]

For a numb second, he actually thought she was going to ignore him, allowing him to head into the shady alleyways where he could vanish safety. But then - with a jolt - he heard her behind him, only a few paces behind, and he could almost feel her eyes boring into the back of his head. He swallowed before stopping in his tracks and facing her. She looked athletic in her sportswear; attractive, even.

But it hurt to look at her now. It hurt, because his newborn thoughts about her (which had emerged while he stood with his head against her bedroom door) had stayed with him, refusing to let him sink back into blandness. It was both a blessing and a  c u r s e . Every time his eyes landed on her, he saw her differently, as though the sun had changed its hue and was showing her in a new, blinding light. Her hair seemed more alluring than ever, her lips beautiful even when turned in a frown; and her eyes, well, they hurt him the most.

            Because he knew she did not feel the way he did about her.

It was obvious in her scowl, the lack of warmth, a gaping contrast between her voice that day in the park. And the difference was enough to make him question himself and his foolhardy heart. Did he, in fact, love her? How could he? when she looked at him with such indifference, the same as before. He was completely, wholly stupid, for believing that a change in his heart would be reflected in reality.

            (It seemed that she would never cease to inspire hope within him.)

"I um…” He was biding for time, trying to come up with a perfectly reasonable excuse, but of course there was none; at least, none came to mind. Should he come clean now? Would there be any point in delaying the inevitable? He could already hear her pressing questions, demanding the truth.

"I was just out for some air." The lie sounded weak even to him. He knew she would rip it apart, use the same ruthlessness he had seen in her when she dealt with the pack’s enemies. "That’s all."

[cagedvioletheart]

Hesitation. It didn't matter how good lie that followed would be, though it was transparent anyway, she knew from the amount of time it had spent grasping onto his tongue it would be a lie. He was here for a purpose and whatever it was, it would not hold good intentions.

"I didn't ask what you were doing Clayton. I was asking why you were here, outside the gym. Don't give me all that coincidence bullshit either." There was no longer patience for pleasantries, he had found someone else to take that careful position. He was sleeping around outside of the pack. She expected such disloyalty to the rest of them, with their violet outrages, but with her it hit sharp. She had done more damage than any of them, yet the impression that he didn't care for her had broken her enlarged ego to irreparable extents.

There's a question that begged to leave her lips, tingling the edges. She was afraid to ask it, tear them further apart and let her knowledge known. It would be a low blow from someone filled with resentment and he would know it. Yet she asked it anyway, unable to stop the words from exploding. "Does she live around here?"

Her jaw clenched, she stares with venom at the pavement. She can't let him see the water breaching her eyes. Her breathing was ragged but it wasn't not cold enough for him to see visible evidence. For once, God had done her a favor.

She awaited his reply, not eager to hear the answer but intrigued none the less. It felt good to finally have been honest with him. Maybe if she knew more she wouldn't feel this emptiness consume her, the dreams of Clayton smiling as she is in agony ceasing to exist. It's an optimistic thought that she dares to think, but only because her options are non-existent. Like an atheist praying to God for final salvation before death, Violet had lost enough to gain the one things that destroys everyone - hope.

[clayton-doyle]

stay safe | clayton & violet

He had never meant to let it get this far. Clayton was not a proactive man, never taking on jobs for the sake of the pack, but somehow, for Violet, things just got out of hand on their own. It had started as pestering thoughts as he returned from the forest, after another fruitless search for possible hunters spying on them. During ever waking second he worried for her, wondering if it was okay to just let her go about her ‘normal’ life outside the shelter of their home. He couldn’t cease the nagging voices, no matter how much she avoided him and acted like nothing was wrong.

Taking matters into his own hands, he started following her. He would wait until she’d left the house before stepping out and tracking her scent, letting her drift out of sight so she wouldn’t spot him. He knew with a strange solidness that he was doing the right thing. This was justified. There was method to this madness, but more importantly there was a purpose. And that purpose was to preserve the one who was vital to him; without her, there was no Clayton Doyle.

              And yet that was besides the point,               because he was not protecting her for his sake,               he was doing so for hers.

But following Violet through her day-to-day wanderings brought an unexpected surprise. After the first few days, he realised that she was visiting a gym rather frequently, and one day he spotted one of the trainers, a tall, well-built woman, and she was talking to Violet, and Violet was talking back, and…and he had never quite seen that expression on her face before. Something like admiration and envy; she even looked a little flustered at one point. And no matter how hard Clayton convinced himself that this meant absolutely  n o t h i n g , he couldn’t quite shake the image of the pair from his mind, leaving him moodier and surlier than normal.

And that was what let to his downfall, to his exposure. He was watching her say goodbye to the trainer again when he realised that he was too late. Violet was already heading his way while he leaned against the lamppost suspiciously, and he was sure she’d already glimpsed his face, but he turned around as naturally as possible and kept walking down the street, hoping to out-stride her, his heart pumping. He was still brooding over how happy she looked as she waved goodbye, and he cursed himself for his feelings. Violet had almost caught him red-handed because of them.

                                  Or maybe she already had. 

                                                                     Shit.

[cagedvioletheart]

He was always with her. Following her every footstep, clouding every thought. She had seen little of him since the incident but it didn't mean he wasn't in her head constantly. Taunting her with his wide grin, his arms wrapped around the back of some female she had never seen. Violet's stomach flipped as she saw his face light up in ecstasy while hers was ridden with regret and pain.

Perhaps this why she had been making her way to Phoebe's more and more often. After River offered her a chance to make her own means, Phoebe had followed suit, giving her some experience working at the gym. It paid poorly, but Vi didn't care much for the money. Both jobs gave her two separate things that meant more than green slips of paper ever could; the excitement of investigation, the company of a beautiful woman.

Recently, her connection with the Amazon had surpassed friendship, though physically it had not reached any new heights. Still Violet had found a fascination with the females lips, her shaped thighs tightly wound in black cotton. Up until now Violet hadn't thought much about her sexuality. When she was younger, before the bite had made her incapable of emotional connection, it was frowned upon to look at women in any way that wasn't friendly. Now things were different and Phoebe's fire was hard to resist.

(But it would never go further than a daydream) (Violet could not live with the jealousy) (Nor the vision of Clayton embedded in her mind) (Which not even the woman could subdue)

She saw him that evening, hiding behind a post. Had he seen the way she gazed at her boss with passionate lust? Even if he had, would he think anything of it? Would he feel the heartache she did when she inhaled the sweaty scent of another on his skin? The selfish part of her hoped so, but then Violet always had been cruel.

She had chosen to walk on like she had not seen him, though the knowledge of his eyes pressed against her back had made her stop and turn. "What are you doing here?" she asks with bitterness seeping though her voice. She's giving him the opportunity to be free of her pathetic grasp but he seems intent on not taking it. Or maybe he has already moved on, only haunting her to repay all the burns that she had made on his heart.

[cagedvioletheart]

end of bindlebrim hallows rpg threads.

[cagedvioletheart]

Sweet Dreams Violet Moore

They parted without a word uttered, only tears as conversation. His tender hands had wrapped up her shame in white bandages. How many times had she done the same for him? Yet somehow this was different. He’d walked out the door when she wanted him to hold her, walked around with that scent.

The scent of another laced around his neck and on his lips around and within his clothes. He reeked of her. Whoever she was, she managed to hurt just as much as the other who had tormented her with a silver blade. This was a whole other realm of torture.

It wasn’t pain. It was grief.

She had wanted Clay to move on for so long that it hadn’t occurred to her how she would feel when he found someone else. Someone to plaster his wounds, someone to take care of him. Violet didn’t love him the way that this other wolf would. But Clayton had always been hers, and now he belonged to someone else.

The cuts stung as she tossed in her sheets. Her throat was closed up with the fear of the small girl granting Vi’s death wish, her eyes burned from the heartache of losing the only one she cared for. She tried to focus her mind on eradicating the issue, but only murder came to mind and it came as little comfort. She would hide in the other corner only to find herself wondering if he had gone to the other.

No where to run poor, pathetic Violet Moore. A monster exists purely in the darkness; there’s no light for you to own.

Exhausted from the night, her fear of the living gave way to the fear of her fantasy. A man with black hair and a skinny frame stood before her holding a silver knife, behind him a tiny girl spinning a silver bracelet. They were together as they moved. One step, slowly made. Violet was on a table, braces wrapped around her body restricting her movement. There was a growling that lingered in the air.

"Clay, what’s happening?" He was not in wolf form how could he growl with his voice so low and so eerie. "Clay, please help me, please." He stopped and the girl who followed him now moved to his side like it was a game of chess. Motionless they listened as the unknown howled. There was no moonlight but she could feel the darkness crawl beneath her skin.

She had been here before. In a grey tin room with no windows but a door that teased her with it’s golden handle. Unreachable, ready to be pushed. Then it came. The bite and then her first howl.

The two observers smiled as they watched a girl be murdered and a monster risen to take it’s place.

The screams of pain must have been loud because even the cold Gavin had rushed to her room to hold her down. He would never give up the opportunity for a fight, but this wasn’t the kind he was interested in. She gave him her thanks for holding her down and he left with a strew of complaints and curses to fill the air but one sentence rang through her eardrums as if they were still leaving his mouth.

Whoever the fuck caused that damage, make sure they are fucking dead.

The face of a young girl was soon joined by the appearance of a familiar male. Both of them mocking her with bright, gleaming smiles.