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Post by Violet Bridgerton on Nov 11, 2022 0:25:39 GMT
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Post by Violet Bridgerton on Nov 10, 2022 17:09:26 GMT
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Post by Violet Bridgerton on Nov 10, 2022 17:07:59 GMT
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Post by Violet Bridgerton on Nov 10, 2022 17:07:22 GMT
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Post by Violet Bridgerton on Nov 10, 2022 17:06:51 GMT
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Post by Violet Bridgerton on Nov 10, 2022 16:48:19 GMT
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if any | When Hyacinth had first complained of sore throat, Violet had not shown much concern. She had raised eight children and throughout the years each had had their fair share of ailments. Children grew ill, they stayed in bed for a while and whined as if the world might be ending, and then they recovered.
It was only after Hyacinth developed a fever that Violet began to grow concerned for her daughter. She seemed to grow so weak in such a short span of time, the colour drained from her cheeks so that she was almost as pale as the sheets she lay upon and she barely had the strength to open her eyes.
The doctor had been, prescribing medicines that she did not believe to be working. She saw little improvement, apart from where her daughters breathing seemed to ease and become less of a struggle. She still whined each time someone touched her, as though the contact caused her pain, and she would not wake from her sleep, which seemed so restless.
Colin's voice dragged her attention from where she sat watching the rise and fall of Hyacinth's chest. Watching her breathing as she often had when she was just a baby. Violet forced a smile upon her face when her son sat beside her, slipping her hand into his and giving it a squeeze.
"The doctor says to give it time, for her to respond to the treatment" the idea of sitting at her child's bedside with nothing more to do than wait, was agony. "She has always been so spirited, it is strange to see her like this" she had to believe that Hyacinth would be alright, because the alternative was too awful to comprehend.
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Post by Violet Bridgerton on Nov 9, 2022 22:10:12 GMT
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screaming, crying, throwing up. | When she had first met Edmund Bridgerton, she had been enamoured with him. The way he'd looked at her, it had sent her heart racing in a way it never had before. It had not taken her long to fall in love with him, with his smile and his charm, and with the way he made her feel, each and every time their eyes met.
Even when her mother had voiced her disapproval and told her that she should not entertain the notion of marrying a man so young and inexperienced. Violet had insisted, knowing that she would not find the happiness she felt with Edmund, with anybody else. The whole world seemed to stop for her whenever he entered a room, it was a feeling she'd never grow tired of.
She did not know when things had soured between them. It had encroached upon their happiness slowly at first, and then all at once. The engagement had changed something between them, introduced a bitterness into the relationship, where there should only have been love.
Edmund was pulling away, or perhaps this was the man he had always been. Perhaps she had just been too blind to see him for who he really was while they had been courting. Blinded with infatuation, fooling herself into believing that she was in love with a man whom she barely knew. Because he looked at her in a way that no man ever had before, and he made her laugh in a manner that was unbecoming of a young lady.
Violet could not recall what had started this latest argument, but it had escalated in the way it always did now. He had been unkind, distant and she had questioned him about his attitude. Claiming that she did not wish to be wed to a man who could not stand to be in her company.
That was when she had turned towards the door, and a moment later his words hit her. They sounded cruel coming out of his mouth, so detached from the person she thought that she was marrying. The Edmund she'd fallen in love with.
"I want nothing" she turned, hands balling into fists at her sides as she tried to keep from crying, though her voice still wavered. "Not from you" she could see now that he did not love her, did he even care for her? Not enough to treat her with any decency.
Violet's heart ached upon seeing how he looked at her. She took a step towards him but stopped herself before she could go to him. They had been here before, with heated arguments that ended in rushed apologies that ultimately meant nothing. Only for the cycle to repeat itself within days.
"I do not believe you know what you want, Edmund" whenever she thought that they were making progress, he pulled away again. It was debilitating. Each time he distanced himself from her, with not so much as a word or explanation, she questioned if perhaps she had done something wrong. Now she saw that it was he, who was the problem.
"I love you, but I cannot live like this" she thought it might kill her to walk away, but she knew that it would if she stayed and had to endure him resenting her for another second.
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Post by Violet Bridgerton on Nov 7, 2022 20:44:41 GMT
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Post by Violet Bridgerton on Nov 7, 2022 20:43:26 GMT
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Post by Violet Bridgerton on Nov 7, 2022 20:42:40 GMT
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Post by Violet Bridgerton on Nov 7, 2022 20:36:46 GMT
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Post by Violet Bridgerton on Nov 7, 2022 2:04:55 GMT
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Post by Violet Bridgerton on Nov 7, 2022 2:00:41 GMT
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I can only apologize | The sound of Gregory's wailing was burned into her mind and brought a lump to her throat. The toddler had developed a fever over the last few hours and little she had done was able to settle him. Even as she held him in her arms, the heat radiating from his skin was almost too much to bear.
She sent for the doctor, unable to cope with being powerless to ease his suffering for a moment. Edmund had taken Anthony out hunting early that morning and they still had not returned home. He would have been able to talk her down, to keep her from panicking, but he was not there.
"Papa" Gregory's feeble voice mumbled into the crook of her neck as she swayed with him. She did not wish to leave him, but felt certain that the doctor would arrive shortly, and Edmund should be there to greet him. More than that, Edmund should be there for their son- Gregory needed him, he was asking for him.
Violet practically had to peel the toddler's grip from around her neck as she passed him off to one of their maids and informed them that she was going to go fetch her husband. Someone suggested that she send a footman, that she should not go traipsing through the forest in her condition, but she knew where she could find Edmund and as far as she was aware, the doctor had never stated that light exercise would do her or the baby any harm.
Carefully navigating the foliage, one hand supported her belly as she tried not to trip over the uneven ground. In her haste, she hadn't even changed into appropriate footwear and was paying for that lack of forethought now.
Hearing voices somewhere up ahead, she smiled in relief. She had found them, and not a moment too soon, as she had become quite breathless after her trek. The baby made even tasks as simple as breathing a challenge.
A twig snapped beneath her foot, and she stumbled. The sound of a gunshot rang out somewhere nearby, and she took a few faltering steps before dropping to her knees. Her chest felt tight, and she couldn't draw breath.
Violet brought a hand to her chest, confusion giving way to fear when it came away slick with blood. Her blood. Each attempt to breathe was met with a struggle, each breath little more than a wheezing gasp that resulted in a searing pain in her chest.
Dark spots danced in front of her vision, tears burning in the corners of her eyes as the realization set in. "Edmund..." she choked out his name, barely a whisper in silence that had settled over the forest following the gunshot. |
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Post by Violet Bridgerton on Nov 7, 2022 0:58:03 GMT
23. Your muse moves away from mine forever.  tagged
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| From the moment she'd married Edmund, she knew that she wanted a house full of children. His children, with his hair, and his eyes, and his smile. The smile that had once captivated her so completely, that she struggled to look away.
They had been blessed more than most, with eight children, and Violet had adored every moment of motherhood. Even when the death of their father had forced her to do it alone. The only thing she had not prepared herself for was the day that each of them would fly the nest.
Perhaps she had imagined she'd have longer with them. Daphne had found a husband in her first season, and it had been hard enough to see her oldest daughter leave them to begin a new life. Daphne still visited often, and she still found it hard to fathom how they all did not live beneath the same roof.
So, it came as a surprise one morning when Benedict came to her with the most unexpected news.
"What do you mean you are leaving?" she demanded of her son; confusion etched into her face as she wondered if he was perhaps joking. "Where are you going to? When will you return?" sometimes she forgot that he was a man grown, not the child that she had once nurtured.
That did not mean she had to accept or understand all of the foolhardy decisions he made. |
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Post by Violet Bridgerton on Nov 6, 2022 22:18:16 GMT
9. Your muse is having a vivid nightmare and is shouting out brokenly. tagged
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| Violet was not sure what had woken her at first, she had been having the most marvellous dream. The memory of which was already fading, she would not recall it in the morning. It was still dark in her room, the sun had not yet risen and yet, something had disturbed her.
With having eight children, a sixth sense of sorts was developed when things weren't as they should be, and even as she closed her eyes and willed sleep to find her once more, it would not.
An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach, pondering what had disturbed her. She thought that perhaps one of the children had called to her, or even crept past her room in an attempt to commit to some late-night shenanigans.
Slipping out of bed, Violet wrapped her arms around herself as she left the comfort of her bedroom and stepped out into the hall. She went first to check on Hyacinth and Gregory, finding both of her youngest children sound asleep. Then she moved on to check on the others.
Finally arriving at Anthony's door after checking on all seven of his younger siblings, she gave pause to listen. A shout within caused her to push the door open, peering into the darkness to look upon her son sleeping. Her heart stuttering in her chest when she heard him cry out, his body writhing upon the bed as if he were in pain.
"Anthony?" she called out softly, then crossed to stand by his bedside. Reaching to place her hand on his shoulder, her stomach twisted at the sounds he was making, as if he were in anguish. "Anthony! Come now, wake up" she gave his shoulder a shake, hoping to rouse him and release him from whatever torment plagued his sleep.
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