wilting

violet harmon. eternally 17. you think you know about me? you don't know shit.

[melisica]

[vanish-cherry-deactivated202509]

[ghostling]

[aestheticacadema]

[winteroroctober]

[asoftwrongness]

[thebrcwneyeddaughter]

perfectionturnednightmare:

Tate’s eyes followed Violet’s as she gazed at the spot where her body had been. Something was different. That last time the blonde teenager had seen her, she had been happy. Or…at least she appeared to be. Scowling, he remembered who she had been seeing, but quickly pushed it out of his mind. The mophead didn’t like thinking about the dumbass that Violet had let into her life, or the fact that she had chosen him over Tate.

He had messed up a lot. He had done a lot for the reasons that Violet used to keep him at arm’s length made sense. But he still loved her. He still did everything to show her how sorry he was for everything he did all those years ago. He even thought he had finally been able to move on. Find something else. Someone else. But he was still left all alone because of past decisions. Dammit, why was all of this so hard?

Biting his lip, Tate’s eyes slid back to hers. She looked so sad. Looked like the same girl that had moved into this house. Lost. Alone. Why was she suddenly so lonely looking?

“Are you okay?” 

When you weren’t okay, something about that question had a deep tug on your soul. Because the only reason someone would ask that, was if they could very clearly see that you were not okay. And she knew she wasn’t masking it, hell, what would be the point of that? But the question still hit her, a breakable nerve inside of her, and she felt her eyes well up with tears.

So goddamn weak. Out of the fear of crying out, Violet withheld any vocal response and simply shook her head, her cheeks turning red and tears spilling over only to be caught by the sleeve of her cardigan as she wiped it across her face. How did she let herself become so weak?

[arsole-blog]

[alsk00]

[thebrcwneyeddaughter]

perfectionturnednightmare:

Hearing an all too familiar clearing of the throat, Tate blinked slowly. Only one other person knew about this crawlspace. And why she was down here the blonde would have never understood. Not with how its history tied to hers. 

Swallowing softly, Tate looked over his shoulder. A spark of curiosity entered his eyes but quickly died as their eyes met. Was he supposed to talk? Yes, that would have been a good start considering she was the one that cleared her throat. With the infinite hole seeming to stretch between them, Noah couldn’t help but feel the slight heartache of being so alone. 

“Did you want me to go?” 

It was technically her spot–even if he had put her there. He would completely understand if she wanted him gone. All she had to do was speak those two little words. 

As soon as their eyes met, Vi’s gaze shifted awkwardly to the floor. And once he spoke, she hesitated to do so herself. But she did manage to get out a quiet, “...no.” It’d been so long since she’d let herself get like this. Lines stung under her sleeves where she’d relapsed, quick clean marks she’d dug into herself with a knife.

A knife. That was a new one for her, but it worked well as it was serrated. It wasn’t like she had to worry about bleeding out without knowing she’d come to in a few hours. But she didn’t bleed much at all. Nor did she regret it. And Tate’s sudden presence was the metaphorical gauze she’d needed. Although still empty and lacking emotion, being around him somehow made her feel, perhaps in the smallest way, alright.

“I don’t really know why I’m here,” she finally added, eyes now attached to the very spot where her body had decayed. “I...” 

[thebrcwneyeddaughter]

sydneyreed-inthemurderhouse:

“Skinner?“

Sydney descended the basement steps slowly, glancing around in the dark. It had been weeks since she’d seen the blonde killer. Then again, it had been weeks since she’d seen him or Spencer. Months since Jacob had visited. At first Sydney had thought they’d been keeping to themselves, but now… As much as she loved Marley with all of her heart, sometimes Sydney liked to speak other people. People who knew the true history of the house, and who knew Sydney as a friend instead of as a mom. Marley was off in the library, enjoying the extra freedom that Sydney had allowed her in the absence of gruesome murders.

So that gave Sydney time to check up on her suspicions. Spencer’s stuff was gone, Jacob wasn’t answering her calls, and now, as she moved further into the basement and flicked on a light, she realised that Skinner must have been in hiding for weeks. There was no telltale bottle of black nail polish, or unmistakable smell of alcohol. With her self-imposed ban against seeing Greg or Sawyer, the absence of the three guys hurt her even more than it normally would. She sank into the dusty couch, running a hand through her hair.

"Fuck…”

Violet had been spending a foolish amount of time in the basement lately. Not because she was looking for danger, or trying to get mixed up with the wrong spirits, but rather for the good memories the place had. She’d spent a lot of time with Tate down there, getting to know him back when she didn’t particularly have a care in the world. Back when she was alive, back when she thought she was alive. It was a quiet, dark space away from most----if not all----of the living.

But still some dwelled, much like she herself had been doing. Watching a brunette sink into the ragged couch someone had brought downstairs, the young ghost found it hard to peel her eyes away. Sydney. She knew her, barely. But she’d known Spencer well enough to know that the other girl was a friend of his. As much as she had an itch inside her to ask the other if she’d seen the idiot around, she refrained, for she knew the answer. He was gone, and she was fairly certain he wouldn’t be coming back to make things right.

[thebrcwneyeddaughter]

perfectionturnednightmare:

@thebrcwneyeddaughter

It felt like a century since the last time Tate had crawled into the small area underneath the house. It hadn’t been a place that he wanted to be since he was forced to reveal to Violet her decomposing body. It still reeked of that body. He should have done something else with it. Buried it. Told her before the body had gotten so bad. Anything than what he had done. 

Staring at the spot where her body had once laid, the blonde bit his lip. What would have happened had he done everything differently? Why was this a question that constantly plagued his mind? 

Everything he had done since Violet had moved into the house had found its way to blow up in his face. Even years later. Of course, he was still making the same mistakes. Maybe he hadn’t raped anyone but he sure as hell gave people reasons to push him away. 

He had stayed completely motionless as he continued to stare at the little spot. The light slowly going out of his eyes as the minutes ticked by. 

There was an unusual pull to the spot where Violet had tried to keep away from for nearly a year now. The crawlspace was not a happy place, held little to no happy memories, perhaps a bit of peace... for it was the place where the truth was uncovered. Where things came together and started making sense, in some cruel way.

There was a certain sadness plaguing the ghost, much like how it used to when she didn’t know she was dead. She was tired, lonely, misunderstood, and pitying herself. However that was something she’d never admit. She didn’t even like coming to terms with it. Violet Harmon felt bad for herself.

Crawling into the space, Vi swept her hair out of her face as a certain spirit came into view. Perhaps it wasn’t the spot at all that was calling her ---- but rather the gloomy boy inhabiting it. Straightening her posture if only a little, sullen brown eyes kept to the ground as she did nothing but clear her throat lightly to announce her presence.

[mieczyslawstilniski]

she died at seventeen, as he held her in his arms. it’s cruel, isn’t it? that your best friend, would do anything to save you, but she couldn't save herself.

and all your screams do is echo through the halls || k.a. (via tylerhoechilns)

[stydiascoven]

Violet Harmon + Text Posts: Part 1/?

[kruspesdoll-deactivated20201031]

[thebrcwneyeddaughter]

👻

👻 …someone my muse considers a best friend.

The concept of a best friend is kind of silly to Violet, therefore she’s never really given anyone the title. Arguably, before her life went to shit, she would have said her mom was her best friend. But now that she’s dead and things aren’t even a little bit like they used to be, the only person she really feels comfortable calling her best friend would be her brother, Cody. ( @dxedyoung )

[finchlynoah]

Her lips pursed at the confession. Perhaps it was why her opposite was indulging in alcohol. “Pick whichever shags better.” Heaven knows Anya was the last person that should be giving advice. The brunette wasn’t entirely serious, just partly. A teasing smile played on her lips and she was quick to answer, “Dare!” before the atmosphere between them could get sappy or awkward.

[thebrcwneyeddaughter]

Violet let out a quick huff of a laugh accompanied by an awkward smile. She was much too much of an emotional person —- go figure —- to pick anyone based on their skills in bed. When the other chose dare, the ghostly teen twisted her lips. That’s when she spotted someone’s cell phone left unattended on the side table. “…I dare you to snap a random person in that phone a dirty pic,” Violet’s smile formed into an amused grin.