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@violetiine
hey, my name is danni & iβm 26 years old, she / her, GMT timezone.
this is an independent & selective roleplay blog for VIOLET HARMON from AMERICAN HORROR STORY: MURDER HOUSE. this blog is based mainly off of season 1 of ahs, with my own headcanons framing the character.
18+ only, will mention and contain triggering content such as blood, self harm, suicide, murder, ocs and crossovers welcome. established may 2021.
carrd
wire - @violetharmon
β whatβs wrong, you donβt trust me? β
&. π‘π¨π«π«π¨π« ππ‘ππ¦ππ π¬ππ§πππ§ππ π¬πππ«πππ«π¬.
Violet had only hesitated for a second, one bleak moment where her better instincts told her to turn back and run. Away from this guy that she'd found herself actually halfway liking, away from the situation he'd promised her -- An exploration of some creepy shit he'd found, some haunted house mojo bullshit that usually would have been her exact level of fun.
"Why should I?" she shot back, but her dark eyes shone with mirth as she fell back into step with him. He'd wanted to show her something, and Violet wasn't about to chicken out because of some weird shiver. "We've been walking forever and I haven't seen anything -- I'm starting to think you're full of shit."
β i wonβt let them kill you. i wonβt let them even touch you. β tommy!
&. π‘π¨π«π«π¨π« ππ‘ππ¦ππ π¬ππ§πππ§ππ π¬πππ«πππ«π¬.
The words themselves did little to alleviate the thudding panic in her chest, the malicious aftereffect of the nightmares that plagued her every single night. Evading sleep only worked for so long before she began to hallucinate, and the use of sleeping pills had been banned since the 'incident' as staff so lovingly to referred to her failed attempt -- And so Violet had taken to accepting them, to feeling worse and worse as each morning came around.
She hadn't told anybody, not even Tommy, not until the fateful September morning when she had been forced into the common room for some early rec time. Looking like shit, judging by the expression on his face when she sat down. Last night had been a bad one -- All of her demons seemed to have banded together like some kind of sick comic book crossover.
"They can't get me while I'm in here anyway," she shrugged, aware of just how insane she sounded -- Ghosts trying to murder her. This time two years ago, Violet would have laughed at such a threat. "Shit, I sound like such a crazy person."
βI feel exposed in this.β Brook (violet getting brook to wear a skirt.)
&. π‘π¨π«π«π¨π« ππ‘ππ¦ππ π¬ππ§πππ§ππ π¬πππ«πππ«π¬.
When Brook had asked Violet if she could borrow something to wear, the skirt that had been tossed in her direction had been picked out without a thought. It wasn't short - no, that was not her style in the slightest - but the fact that it hung around the knees meant that it showed more than she'd ever seen Brook wear before.
A shrug was sent in her friend's direction at the mild complaint, dismissed almost as quickly as it was uttered. "Don't wear it then. But I haven't got anything else." Pause. "Don't sweat it. You look badass, seriously."
β youβre playing a dangerous game here, girl. β montana
&. π‘π¨π«π«π¨π« ππ‘ππ¦ππ π¬ππ§πππ§ππ π¬πππ«πππ«π¬.
Girl. Eyes rolling, Violet leaned against the doorway that separated the safety of her bedroom from the eeriness of the rest of the house, the air heavy with unease and anticipation as Halloween loomed closer. She was playing a dangerous game? She wasn't the one wandering into other people's private spaces.
"Yeah, I doubt that," came her retort, tone thick with scorn. "What are you gonna do? Kill me?"
// like this for me to come into your IMs to plot!!
&. π‘π¨π«π«π¨π« ππ‘ππ¦ππ π¬ππ§πππ§ππ π¬πππ«πππ«π¬.
(Β variousΒ non - halloweenΒ themedΒ dialogueΒ promptsΒ forΒ allΒ yourΒ slashers,Β finalΒ girls,Β andΒ otherΒ horrorsΒ beyondΒ yourΒ comprehension.Β triggerΒ warningΒ forΒ darkΒ themes.Β feelΒ freeΒ toΒ editΒ asΒ youΒ seemΒ fit.Β )Β
β itβs the silence that scares me. β
β iβm every nightmare you ever had. β
β i want to see your true face. β
β one way or another, youβre going to die tonight. β
β just because you donβt see it, doesnβt mean itβs not already here. β
β by the time anyone finds your body, they wonβt be able to identify it. β
β youβre playing a dangerous game here, girl. β
β iβm playing the villain, just like you wanted. β
β i wonβt give up on you, i know youβre worth it! β
β scream all you want. no one will hear you. β
β what are you going to do to me? β
β there you are, my darling! β
β i knew you would come back to me. β
β donβt you want to be consumed by what loves you? β
β iβm going to send you back to hell where you came from! β
β you canβt keep me here forever! β
β how are you still alive? i killed you! β
β sometimes human spaces make inhuman monsters. β
β please. why donβt you just let me go? β
β this missing poster has your face on it. β
β that wasnβt so bad, was it? β
β whatβs wrong, you donβt trust me? β
β i know a lot about you. more than you think. β
β you want me to shut him up for you? β
β we could have been beautiful together. β
β when you think youβre alone, someone watches. β
β rest while you can, because i will hunt you and eat you whole. β
β what you want is very wrong. β
β you look so pretty all tied up like this. β
β what, you like to watch? you goddamn sicko. β
β god isnβt here. god doesnβt even know about this place. β
β there is something at work in my soul which i do not understand. β
β i am the devil, and i am here to do the devilβs work. β
β you know what they say, an eye for an eye. β
β why donβt you scream for me? β
β are youβ¦ smelling me? β
β weβre going to die out here. β
β iβm not afraid of anything. not anymore. β
β we will be what everyone wants to be. perfect. β
β no offense, but i think you might be just a little too crazy for me. β
β we all go a little mad sometimes. β
β the harder i try to escape, the further i get into this awful place. β
β this was not how it was supposed to go! β
β this is the end of your little game. i win. β
β donβt leave me! i canβt be alone! β
β no one is coming for you. β
β you hide. and iβll try to find you. sound fun? β
β fuck this place. seriously, just fuck this place. β
β whatβs the matter, honey? youβve barely touched your dinner. β
β donβt be afraid. dying is much easier than living. β
β i wonβt let them kill you. i wonβt let them even touch you. β
β letβs get you some clothes before i get too turned on. β
β you werenβt putting that tongue to use anyway. β
β shall i drink your blood fresh, or slice your neck and spill it out first? β
β dying keeps moving lower on the list of worst things that could happen to me. β
βI know itβs over - still I cling I donβt know where else I can goβ
indie & selective violet harmon (ahs)
carrdΒ |Β Β©
Soo.... if I revamped this blog, is anyone still around?
// havenβt been in the mood to write recently but I always come back to violet eventually
Send me Trick or Treat! to knock on my muses door for candy on Halloween night!
langdhonβ:
Either five years ago or about ten?Β Seems like being dead screws with oneβs perception of time altogether. Michaelβs puzzlement as he glances over at her reveals the train of thought he doesnβt wrap into words, all the while heβs reminded of how little he actually knows about himself. Past self. When was he even born?Β No one told him, neither did he ask anyone. Through a line of trees capping the suburban street they tread until the first patches of sand soften their footfalls. Some fallen leaves pressed into amassed grains crunch alow their heels. And the salty airβ¦ the freshness combined with the calm sound of not-so-distant-anymore waves β a shift in atmosphere mirroring that which resides between Violet and Michael.
Looks like the initial tension his first visit in the house introduced abates. No wonder; after all he isnβt any longer testing her nerves with threats of her familyβs annihilation.
β I never went up to the attic. Maybe I should rectify thatΒ β, counters Michael with a crooked smile, one that could as well be mistaken for an unspoken threat. Which it isnβt. Leaving a trail of footprints in the sand, he at least canβt be bothered to look around for Tate or any other ghost finally savoring some freedom. Violetβs question hogs his mind effortlessly, pins his attention to the ocean ahead.Β Β β Fucked up pretty much nails it.Β βΒ A huff, then a slow shrug of his shoulders.Β β Those past years, there wasnβt any reason for me to think about the early days of my childhood. But nowβ¦Β β
Attempting to remember almost gives him a headache, nothing else.Β Β β I donβt know. Maybe father took the memory from me. Maybe itβs best I donβt know what happened.Β βΒ Or he simply skipped it. The idea drops late, evens out the crease contemplation pinched his brows with.Β Β β Anyway. How did you usually spend your Halloween nights on the beach?Β Just hang around and admire the sight, or poke fun at some other people showing up here?Β β
Violet could almost feel Michael grasping at his own thoughts and memories, maybe knowing a little of what it felt like. Sure, her memories hadnβt been completely wiped when she died but they were getting hazier every day, blank spots where facts used to be, stock photo images where familiar faces once resided.
For a brief moment she wanted to tell Michael about their first and only meeting when he was a baby, when Vivien had ushered her forward for a few seconds before Ben was due to run away with him. Heβd been wearing a little hat, staring up at Violet with wide blue eyes, and there was an intense unease there that made her back away. Was it knowing who he was, how he had been created? Or was it the little part of her that didnβt want him to leave, that actually held the tiniest echo of fondness for the baby in the carrier?
βYou were a weird looking baby,β she offered, actually allowing herself to smile for the first time all evening. Maybe he didnβt have any memories of his childhood and maybe she only had one, but Violet could only offer what she knew.Β βIts nothing personal. All babies look like lumps.β
At that point Violet found herself on the uneven sand, the feeling of it beneath her feet almost as foreign as the first time sheβd come here. The sea stretched into the inky blackness, the sounds of drunken laughter in the distance mixing with the whispering of the waves.
βBoth.β It was an immediate response, dark eyes trained on the tide ahead.Β βIts just nice to look forward and not see a wall, yβknow?β Pause.Β βNot that you would know.β
ravenskeeperβ:
βIts not what he did. Its who he is.β
Β Β Β Β Β That statement alone causes her brow to furrow and she stares at her lap in quiet contemplation.Β Β Who is he to them and who is he to her?Β Β It seems they are vastly different.Β Β It begs the question:Β why is he so different with her?Β Β Perhaps thatβs something to ask him later. Right now,Β her head lifts blinking in surprise at the question.
β Wellβ¦ βΒ Β She gives a soft smile that doesnβt reach her eyes.Β Β Thereβs a touch of sadness to it as fingers ghost over the scars that adorn her wrists.Β Β β I suppose he opened my eyes to the world.Β Β I lived a very sheltered life.Β Β It was cruel.Β Β I became afraid of living. β
Β Β Β Β Β Too many people she let manipulate her quality of life.Β Β She lived by their rules and theirs alone.Β Β Never her own.Β Β Alice sighs,Β shoulders shrugging briefly.Β Β β Michael showed me what it means to be alive.Β Β He helped me love myself.Β Β Wellβ¦Β Β Heβs tried to and I think Iβm making progress with that.Β Β He accepted me as I am,Β with all my flaws.Β Β I think thatβs what anyone wants in the endβ¦Β Β even him. β
Β Β Β Β Β She lets out a sigh.Β Β β I hope I can repay him that kindness. βΒ Β Gaze returns to Violet.Β Β A part of her heart aches at the lost potential before her,Β never aging,Β never leaving.Β Β Forever trapped.Β Β β I donβt think heβs a bad personβ¦Β Β Misguided,Β certainly.Β Β But thereβs a light in him.Β Iβve seen it. β
Violet listened to the spiel, though her eyes had wandered back towards the window and what lay beneath. People strolling along the sidewalk, kids and their parents, teenagers in love -- They had somewhere to be, people to see them. It wasnβt such a reach to suggest that everyone wants to be accepted, to be loved. Even Violet longed for it, secretly and in silence.
βRight.β The word crossed her lips absently, followed by a pause. Realising that Alice wasnβt going to continue, the teen turned back to the room with a tight-lipped smile that bordered on sarcasm. God, she sounded so much like Violet used to when she spoke of Tate. βHeβs not a bad personβ, βThereβs a light in himβ, βHeβs... misguidedβ. Maybe it was the Langdon way. Manipulation ran through their veins.
βSo you like this guy.β It was a statement, not a question. Sheβd never seen a more obvious crush. βDid he tell you anything about me? Not that heβd remember me or anything. Pretty sure I only met him once and he spit up on me.β Sure, he was only a few days old but Violet could hold a grudge.
empty halls echo , deafening silence sends ringing sensation through ears ; or is that the spirits residing in the house's walls ? she could not be certain , but what she did know is that terribly awful things happened here . ocean eyes blink , auburn lashes batting as she moves slowly , gradual ascent of the staircase . gaze narrows , a lack of assuredness making her question vision made most keen by her particular afflictions . was that a girl standing at the top there ; looking so sad , so lost ? or perhaps just an illusionary glimpse into distorted mirror , a reflection of how she felt in that very moment ?
shake of her head , denial around her mind . insanity was too a genetic curse her dear father had passed down , but alas she's not crazy . the other had to be real , but just as quickly as @violetiine is seen , she's gone . was she one of the many ghosts here , or did she still exist within her own mortal coil ? waves of energy swarm , engulf , overwhelm . fingertips press against temples , desperate attempt to alleviate the ache . low growl bellows from deep within her throat ; agitated beast . " . . . hello ! " a beat , again she calls out . " . . . hello , who's there ? "
tricohvenβ:
a great sorrow resides here , itβs palpable , suffocating but being here was important , all these souls . . . nowhere to go , nowhere to rest , find peace in the afterlife . but hope was a different story ; condemned to eternity on this planet , a force which could not be killed by conventional means . frown permeates features , arms crossing beneath bosom . β . . . my sisters and i donβt care for unnecessary suffering , iβve been sent to help . β
the coven had all come to the conclusion that hope would be the best option they had ; given her peculiar pension for defying mortal coil . β hmm , β contemplative hum vibrates throat , devoid of all prior emotions . ultimately she shrugs , propping herself on opposing wall . brow lifts fractionally , a taunt almost . β i mean , theyβre more than welcome to try , β volume increases as if meant to stir up vengeful spirit who might be eavesdropping . β they wonβt get very far . i canβt be killed . β
Her attention was summoned by those words, Violetβs frame stiffening slightly as she tried to make sense of them. Perhaps she meant them in arrogance, the kind of statement that a teenager would make as they teetered on a cliff edge, but somehow she knew it was different. After all, ghosts existed. Why not other beings?
βLike, at all?β she asked, nonchalance moving aside for the moment. It wasnβt hard to see that Violet was interested, curious. It had gotten boring talking to the same spirits over the years, living the same life day after day, and now here was the promise of an actual interesting conversation.Β βWhy, what are you?β
vihilumβ:
After sixteen days isolated in confinement, when the lock to his door was finally unlatched early in the morning, Tommy made a beeline for the exit. His dark features looked pallid. Heβd barely eaten, barely seen the sun, and his eyes were flickered feral, between the nurse giving him his medication by hand, to ensure he didnβt pocket it. No more room to spare for magic tricks. They were fed up with his behavior, with his act, the whole lot of him. If his doctor had a choice, Tommy would be left there till the end of his days.
The recreation room is the lesser of many evils. The pills swallowed is meant to keep him calm, collected, and his mind numb. The perfect cocktail offered to sit precisely still and make no trouble. Itβs more than he should be prescribed. But there isnβt a bind he canβt find himself out of, there isnβt a window around he wonβt shatter to make his escape, and their only means of stopping Tommy Jarvis is by slowing him down.
Heβs alone, fingers idly adjusting his current project, a mask stitched together with little means. He doesnβt pay attention to the television, the show is white noise, when her voice rouses him out of his focus. Sheβs already seated when he meets her eyes, and Tommy nods anyway, βI donβt mind,β his thumb adjust the eyepiece of the mask. Itβs a colorful monster, not as scary as the ones he used to make, more silly and vibrant.
βWhat do you think?β He holds it up before his face, βShould I add more hair?β
Violet was already reaching for a book from the shelf, not even paying attention to what she was grabbing. Anything would do, any ounce of escapism that she could possibly consume was deemed good enough by her standards. She hadnβt anticipated the boy wanting to talk to her, assuming that they would sit together in companionable silence. But the idea of talking to someone after being stuck here for so long wasnβt completely cringing.
Eyeing the mask he held, Violet raised a questioning brow. It was good, way better than anything she could make, but it still held creepiness within it -- Like a clown at a kidβs birthday party. You knew it wasnβt meant to be scary and yet you didnβt want to get too close.
βDepends,β she replied, a slight quirk of her lips as she looked up at his face for the first time. It felt strange, trying to smile.Β βOn what the hell youβre trying to make. Is it supposed to look that creepy?β
// Happy munday!
// I havenβt been around much recently and its my anniversary weekend so its gonna be a bit longer. I should be around some time this week!
