#ch: violet

[illisius]

JINX in ARCANE

i wake up screaming from dreaming one day i’ll watch as you’re leaving and life will lose all its meaning

— Taylor Swift, anti-hero

[simming-in-the-rain]

Summer of 49, Uspana

[sourrcandy]

WTW FEAST OF FRIGHT - DAY #16: JACK O' LANTERN : write a 250-500 word character study for your protagonist

KNIGHTS ; files from the holy grail ↳ #04. gareth — violet laurent clemonte

Violet Laurent thinks her mother married well. The Clemontes are welcoming, and it helps that her mother’s reputation as a supermodel proceeds her. Everyone knew of Fleur Laurent’s share of lovers with no strings attached, so the news of the french fashion model’s marriage comes as a surprise. Her birth father had wrestled for rights to claim her, but Reginald Clemonte’s influence precedes all, and Violet had gratefully accepted the name change, after all, the Clemonte name comes with many, many benefits. Plus, the name ‘Violet Clemonte’ rolls off the tongue so perfectly it is hard to refuse. She discovers the drawbacks of the Clemonte name when she is sixteen. It is the fourteenth anniversary of her mother’s death, and also her younger sister Colette’s fourteenth birthday. Violet knows she shouldn’t, but she still harbours a slight grudge towards Colette, because her birth took away their mother.

She can’t recognise any aspect of Colette as her mother, the only thing tying them together is the signature Laurent blonde hair and the slightest twinge of a flowery accent on their tongues. The entrance hall of the Jacobean estate is filled with birthday decorations, streamers and ribbons hang from the ceiling and birthday presents fill the halls. Violet sees names she can't recognise and automatically assumes it's from all around high society, each family trying to out do each other. Archie, the family butler, ushers her out of the way as a group of delivery men make their way down the corridor to bring boxes after boxes into one of the lounge rooms in the East Wing. “Ms Violet, it’s best to stay out of the way when deliveries come through the manor,” he reminds her, eyes smiling kindly as he redirects her attention away from the gifts her younger sibling is showered with. Selena, the fresh twelve-year-old Father adopted recently, runs up to take her hand. “Do I get presents too?” She asks, eyes wide with wonder as she takes in the festivities. “Not today, Lena,” Violet replies, patting her affectionately on the head. At her words, the younger girl grips her tiger plush toy tighter and juts her lower lip out in a pout. “You girls look disappointed. It's your sister's birthday, at least pretend to care,” a deep honeyed voice comes from behind them. Violet turns around on her heels in surprise, nearly stumbling into Selena. When all she sees is a crisp ironed suit, she turns her gaze upwards and swallows nervously. Broker smiles, the polite expression getting under her skin and making her squirm in her spot. “Ah, more children, does he know when to stop?” He says to himself. Violet wonders if his tone is louder intentionally for her to hear. Then, he voices, “You’re Laurent’s daughter, aren’t you?” “It’s Clemonte, sir,” she replies firmly. Broker nods as if agreeing, saying, “Of course you are, like mother like daughter.” Then, Violet’s gaze drops to the wrapped gift in Broker’s arms labelled C. Clemonte. There are only specific times Broker visits the estate: to attend stuffy meetings with Father, or, she realises now, to celebrate the birthdays of biological Clemontes. Violet has never felt more like an outsider. She swallows bitterly, and grips Selena’s hand tighter. “I take after Father more,” she interjects, straightening her posture. “You surely are stubborn enough to be like him,” he comments. Broker tilts his head to the side as if to study her, and his smile widens. “Enjoy your sister’s birthday, Laurent.” Then, he sidesteps sharply and continues down the hall. Violet watches as a squealing Colette bounds up to Broker in her blue princess dress, gasping in delight as she accepts the gift and gives the man a tight hug. “Uncle, you're the best! Thank you!” She exclaims. Rare affection dawns on Broker’s face, and his voice is clear as day as he replies, “Anything for a Clemonte.”

[devilsmenu]

@fylstmuses - Vee & Violet

❛ here, i noticed you lost this earlier. ❜ Vee said holding out the object towards the other.

[etenniettes]

[tec-a0l]

some recent photos from littleton

a lovely individual from littleton reached out to me sharing some photos they took this month, and i got their permission to post them here!

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taken 2/9/25 — the southwest enterance of the school, you can see the commons and where the old library was above it.

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taken 2/11/25 — the back of the old blackjack pizza shop, as seen in the "interview behind the blackjack’s” video. apparently it's now a christian taekwondo dojo and is gated away.

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thank you to violet for sharing these pictures with us! i’ll add to the tag “violet’s photos” in the future with more :-)

[mrdavidoconnor]

A sirebond could be a blessing and a curse, a blessing to have a lacky pretty much whenever needed, but a curse as he could often feel what Scott was feeling. It's where his opinion mostly came from, knowing exactly when Aza had died again because he could sense how it affected Scott every time. David tilted his head up a little when she turned away from him but as she soon turned back again, he didn't comment on it.

"It's very interesting and often isn't sexual to me, even if it is sexual to whoever is in my ropes. It's art and to me it's a sight of beauty in every way." Which was what it truly came down to for him, even if he did occasionally did have his own fun. "Scott hasn't put you in ropes yet? And here I thought I had taught him well.."

Violet felt her jaw tense when he made a comment about loving magic more than loving Scott. She knew what he meant- it wasn't a secret between the two that he disapproved of the way she had been in the past, but she was tired of that life- she loved Scott, she only wanted to be with him now. She wouldn't put him through all of that ever again. She huffed out a sigh and turned away from him- only for a moment, she knew better than to fully turn her back on the vampire.

"Ropework is fascinating," she admitted. "I don't have much experience with it- not in this body- but it is interesting. The idea that people willingly give up control to you is especially fascinating to me," she couldn't keep herself from saying as she glanced over her shoulder at him again.

[thoughtsaboutshows]

Let’s Play Pretend Ch 15 sneak peak!

Life’s been nuts, coming soon-ish

Oh shit. He’s flirting with me. He’s tall, though not as tall as Xaden or any of his friends because apparently they all have some freakishly tall man gene, and his long blonde hair goes well with the deep dimples and wide smile currently focused on me. He’s exactly the kind of guy that Ridoc would be friends with at pickleball, completely friendly and as goofy as they come. He’s handsome sure, but he is exactly not my type. Even if I wasn’t in love with Xaden Riorson I’d be turning him down, so I smile as kindly as I can.

“I’ll be there.” I tell him with a nod, keeping my response as short as I can in hopes he gets the hint. But a dark figure above his shoulder, making his way to me with another stack of programs, catches my attention. My smile grows and I can feel my own eyes twinkling as I point over the guy’s shoulders. “With him.”

He turns to look at who I’m pointed at and blanches for a moment as if seeing the almost inhuman spectre that is Xaden and worrying for his safety, but quickly covers it up with another smile, slipping his hands into his pockets.

“Noted.” His smile is genuine as he starts to make his way to his seat, though my eyes are on Xaden again. “He’s a lucky guy.”

“He is.” Xaden agrees, lips curled in the corners, eyes raking up and down my body as he makes it to my side. He slides his palm around my waist to settle on my hip and kisses the top of my coronet braid. “Hi, love.”

[ubiquitouslyme]

Twelve Hours: An Onyx Storm Fanfic

POST IS SPOILER FREE FOR ONYX STORM.

So I read it, had FEELINGS about it, and I just had to work them out. That meant I wrote them out and here's what I came up with. This fic takes place between Chapters 65 and 66 of Onyx Storm and is all speculation after my first read through.

I'm sure I'm wrong, but this was still fun to write!!

[simming-in-the-rain]

happy belated mothers day or something

[mrdavidoconnor]

violetxdinsmore​:

.

Know thy neighbor, or something like that anyway as he and Katherine had moved in next door to Scott and Violet. Of course David had heard from Scott that Aza had popped up again in a new life a while ago, though he hadn’t had the hopefully pleasure yet to meet her. So while Katherine was making some finishing touches on the home, David went to check out the shop that was owned by Violet, as he understood her name was now. It was almost ridiculous how many names she went by in the past, and surprising how Scott still hadn’t just turned her,  but he thought that with every incarnation. David gave a slight wave in return, seeing the coin wasn’t dropping much in her mind yet. “Well, well, he does keep finding you younger, doesn’t he?” David mused with the hint of a smirk shown. “Good day, Azalea. It’s been a while.” He said while using her original name on purpose. 

The Cabinet of Curiosities, it had been Violet's dream since she was a teenager, and now as she unpacked boxes of merchandise for her store, she had to pause and look around. Holy shit. This was actually her store. She'd actually done it! She beamed as she turned back to the box of New Orleans Ghost History books she'd been shelving when she heard the door open. She turned slightly and gave the person a slight wave. "Hey, I'm not exactly open yet, but uh, if you don't mind paying with Venmo and stepping over boxes and an overly excited Pomeranian somewhere, I'd love to have my first customer." she greeted the person at the door.

[harbingersecho]

Lasombra fashion show?

Now how did you know I've been meaning to draw fashion 'shows' for all the clans…?

But! Here's some Lasombra fashion stuff for you!

+ bonus because I love bullying Lasombra abt their tech issues (:

[camillehenri]

Q - Quiet

[revenancy]

impossible fires || violet szarozy.

alright so – tw for violence/murder on this one – I've talked about Marley and I've talked about Nile but I haven't really talked much about the weight of the dead girl on their shoulders. so a little about Vi, and mostly about what happened to her:

→ she was just barely eighteen when she died.

→ she was eighteen – her middle brother was ten weeks from twenty-one – their eldest brother was twenty-five and drunk and furious with his sister for skipping her tert training classes in favor of her girlfriend for the last fucking time. (it was always the last fucking time with Jake. Vi and Marley had been in some sort of love for years; they started laughing it off whenever they met down in the empty train corridors outside Lacrymo.)

→ she was eighteen, and Jake had been her father for the last ten years, working seventy-hour weeks in the refinery that killed their parents since he was only fifteen. he was supposed to be the one in tert training; he'd given that up for Violet.

→ and her middle brother, a mnemonist, twenty and soft-spoken and always waiting for the next catastrophe, who pinned clippings from the paper to the living room wall, who slept on the couch so she could have the second bedroom, was more a mother than anything. (he cut her hair when she got industrial glue in it; he gave her space whenever she brought Marley home to the tiny flat over Duke's Penny Grocery. Jake was furious that she always seemed to love Lachlan best.)

→ Violet was deep into teen subcultures, the kind of punk who's pressed underneath the bootheel of the system, working to claw her way up to humanity. but to her brothers she was precious, always: she was sharp, and intelligent, and eager to learn, and she was the baby. to be kept safe. to be cherished.

→ to be killed, apparently.

→ the three people who were in the room when Violet Szarozy died all have different accounts. Jake will say that it was a drunken fugue, the story that got him put on a fourth addiction watchlist, and the panic defense that got him off with eight months' imprisonment and two years' probation. the company sprung him early: they needed him back on the line sooner than that. no one's trying to take a refinery job.

→ Marley will shy away before excusing herself from the details: she was horrified, and hiding in the wardrobe, and she had to keep herself from crying until Jake stalked from the room so he wouldn't find her, too. then she sat on the floor with Vi – with Vi's brother Lachlan, his hands soaked in his sister's blood, and all the wonderment of youth was cut short. no better future allowed for this.

→ the mnemonist's is probably the most accurate to life.

→ but he died thirteen years ago.

→ (pick up. carry on.)

IMPOSSIBLE FIRES taglist; (ask to be added/removed)

@iucemon @rodentwrites @rhikasa

[violencelittlething]

I see so many fancasts for this series and unfortunately the reality is that this series is 10 years too late because the most obvious choice for violet was literally isabelle fuhrman but y'all arent ready for that conversation don't boo me i'm right and if it had been 5-8 years ago it would have happened

[tec-a0l]

violet’s photos: a letter to CHS

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earlier this week, violet sent me a photo of an absolutely incredible artifact that i think y’all would find interesting! it’s a letter from a public school in arazona sent to CHS after the massacre:

Dear Students, Faculty, and Staff,

We were greatly sorrowed by the tragedy at your school last year. In an effort to help the victims and show our support, we sold blue and silver ribbons to our student body and succeeded in raising close to three-hundred and fifty dollars. Please use it as you determine is most beneficial. Once again, we express our concern and love.

Mountain View Student Council (August 27, 1999)

from violet: “I have a friend I went to school with, who transferred to [CHS] in high school. She was a theater tech, and in the prop closet, tucked away was a box that was full of letters from other schools at the time around the country sending their sympathy and donations! She only got a picture of one of the letters, from a high school in Mesa, Arizona. (sorry for the poor quality, its a crop of a photo of a 12 year old photo of an at the time a 14 year old letter)”

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