#Love And Loss

[aventurineswife]

"I loved you like the sun, yet you loved me like the eclipse," he whispered, his voice as soft and fleeting as a memory. Sunday stood before you, his eyes dimmed, the navy blue pupils lost in a sea of unshed tears. His halo flickered faintly, its once vibrant glow now a trembling reminder of his fractured divinity.

You couldn't look at him—not fully. To meet his gaze was to confront the truth you had both tried to outrun. So, instead, you focused on his trembling hands, gloved in black, clenched tightly at his sides. You remembered those hands as a refuge, their warmth steady even when his words faltered. Now, they were trembling barriers, guarding the chasm that had grown between you.

"I gave you my light, my constancy, my everything," he continued, his voice breaking as he took a tentative step closer. "And yet...you only came to me in the moments when your world was in shadow."

His wings fluttered, the feathers catching faint light as though they, too, were straining to hold him upright. You wanted to reach out, to say something—anything—but the words tangled in your throat like a knot you couldn’t untie.

"I never asked for more," he said, his tone sharpening with an edge of bitterness. "I knew what I was to you—a fleeting comfort, an illusion of peace. But even illusions have limits."

You flinched at his words, the truth of them cutting deeper than you’d thought possible. He wasn’t wrong. He had always been there, unyielding, while you drifted in and out, carried by tides of your own fear and longing. You had loved him, hadn’t you? Or was it simply the light he offered, the way it burned away the shadows you couldn’t face alone?

Sunday turned away, his shoulders taut with restrained emotion. His scarf fluttered, the golden underside catching the light like a thread of hope unraveling. "I loved you like the sun," he murmured again, the words more to himself now, "steady, unyielding, radiant. But you—"

He faltered, his voice cracking as the weight of his emotions bore down. When he spoke again, it was quieter, a whisper trembling with sorrow. "You loved me like the eclipse���beautiful, fleeting, only when it was convenient to forget the rest of the world."

His words crushed you, their truth unbearable. You had basked in his warmth, his constancy, without realizing how deeply you had wounded him by taking it for granted. And now, faced with the fragility of what you had shared, you could see the fractures you’d ignored all along.

"I didn’t mean to—" you began, but your voice broke under the weight of your guilt.

He turned to face you again, his eyes glistening, filled with a sadness so profound it stole the air from your lungs. "I know," he said softly, a faint, weary smile gracing his lips. "You never meant to. But intention doesn’t erase the pain, does it?"

For a moment, silence stretched between you, vast and aching. The tension in his wings softened, and his halo steadied, though its glow was dim. He reached out, his hand hovering just inches from yours. It trembled, caught between yearning and restraint, before finally retreating.

"I need to let go," he whispered. "For both of us. Maybe, one day, we’ll find the balance we never could before. But not like this. Not now."

And with that, he turned away, his steps light but unyielding. You watched as he disappeared into the distance, his presence fading like the final rays of a setting sun. All that remained was the echo of his voice and the crushing realization that you had loved him too late.

Inspired by me generating random quotes in my head while I brush my teeth in the morning 😇🫶

Expect more angst in the future lol

[aestheteasteria]

It will be alright my dearest, let's go home

[azrielsdove]

Love and Loss: Ch.5

Warnings: Angst, Suggestive, 18+

Ch.4 Here | Ch.6 Here

***

As if Rhysand couldn’t get any more insufferable, he was refusing to get rid of the marriage bond. You had taken to wearing long sleeves, covering the tattoo that symbolized your love for so many years. He was doing it to further upset you, annoyed that his brothers came to your aid. In his mind, everything he did was justified and as their High Lord they should have been on his side.

It took you a week to recover from his attack on your mind, plagued with awful nightmares whenever you tried to sleep. Madja had ended up giving you a sleeping daught, knocking you out for two days straight. You welcomed it, wishing you would never wake.

Azriel and Cassian had decided that one of them would remain by your side at all times. You were getting tired of their constant protectiveness, but you appreciated them more than they would ever know. They could have allowed you to die at Rhysand’s hand that night, standing by their brother as always. Instead they went directly against him, saving your life in the process. You knew they were being punished for their actions. Cassian had told you how he was trying to send them away on different missions, missions they both refused. On more than one occasion they had come back bruised and bloody, a sign of the High Lords anger.

Azriel was sitting with you in the private library, the two of you reading quietly. He was surprised you wanted to return to this room, that you still took comfort in it. You had explained that you refused to let Rhysand take all joy away from you. So he sat in the armchair across from you, a shadow whispering over your skin from time to time.

Your eyes were focused on the book in your hands, but your mind was lost in the memory that had been pulled from you the night of the attack. When you told Azriel about Rhysand, and the strange way he reacted. You had been replaying that afternoon over and over, remembering the way you he avoided you for months after that. It left an uncomfortable feeling in you, like there was something you didn’t know. Rhysand had been ever more charming after that, finding you that night to press harsh kisses on your skin. He left countless marks over you, claiming you as his. Then you thought it was endearing, romantic. Now, you weren’t so sure.

You weren’t sure if anything Rhysand ever did or said was real. As angry as you were at him, you struggled to believe your entire marriage had been a lie. A lie to, he said, ‘dangle over Azriel’s head’. You were beginning to understand there had always been more at stake, and that maybe you chose the wrong male all those years ago.

Your gaze moved up from your book, looking to the male sitting across from you. You took in the way his leg was propped on top of the other, one large hand resting on it. Your eyes traveled up his massive arms, focusing on how tiny his book seemed in his giant grip. His eyebrows were furrowed, hazel eyes moving as they read the words in front of him. You stared at the sharp angle of his jaw, the lip he was biting on as he read. The shadows swirling around him sped up, running through his hair and down his neck at the notice of you. You were overcome with desire for that to be you, to run your fingers down his neck. You imagined the sounds he would make as you touched him, the way he would moan your name when you sucked-

“Hello? You okay over there?” His words broke you out of your heated daydream, your legs squeezing tight together. You couldn’t help the low blush the covered your cheeks, coughing slightly.

“Uh, yea. Sorry. I was just, thinking.” You got out, shoving your face back into your book. You were confused by the sudden lust for your friend, and embarrassed that he had caught you staring at him.

“Okay,” he chuckled, sensing your lie. He turned back to his book, but your eyes didn’t dare move up to him again. What was going on with you?

***

Azriel’s POV

Fuck, he cursed, watching the blush spread over her cheeks. He shifted slightly, trying to cover his hard-on. He hadn’t excepted her to be looking at him like that, pupils blown wide and mouth slightly open. It took everything in him to not jump across the coffee table and take her on that sofa, make her cry out his name for everyone to hear.

He pulled his eyes back to his book, trying to push the filthy thoughts away. He was used to thinking them about her, he would admit. However, he was not used to her thinking them about him. He knew exactly what was going through her mind while her gaze roved over him, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He couldn’t help but think back to all those years ago, when he should have stopped her from going with Rhys.

He had a bad feeling when she had told him Rhys was courting her. Something stirred in his chest, a warning to protect her. He knew his brother was aware how he felt about her, and yet he still chose to peruse her. It seemed most unlike Rhys at the time, to be so blatantly disrespectful to him. The words on the page blurred as his mind went back to that day.

He flew directly to Rhys, certain that she had to be misunderstanding his intentions. He rushed into his study, pulling him out of whatever important documents he was reading. “Az!” Rhys greeted warmly, smiling at him.

Azriel did not return the warmth.

“What are you playing at?” He demanded, shadows flitting about anxiously.

“Excuse me?” Rhys asked, expression turning cold.

“You’re courting her now?” Azriel’s voice was hard, barely keeping his anger in at the wicked smile Rhys threw at him.

“Is that a problem, brother?”

“You know that it is.”

“Do I? All you said is that you think there is something between you. If she wanted you, why would she choose to go with me?”

Azriel’s temper flared, his wings spreading as his anger ran through him. “Why go after her, Rhys?”

He took in the cold eyes and cruel smile on the High Lords face, unable to believe this was the same male he had called his brother all these years. “I like a challenge, Az.”

“She isn’t a game, Rhysand.”

“Not her. You. How far are you willing to go to get the girl?” Azriel glared at the teasing look on his face, wanting to rip it off.

“I will not interrupt her happiness with you. If you truly love her, I will stand down.”

Rhys laughed. “Ever the gallant male.” He stood, walking around the desk to face Azriel. “I don’t love her yet. I do, however, love making you mad. I love the sounds she makes when she’s under me, I love the way she moans my name. Would you like to see, brother?”

Azriel’s mind was blank with rage. He hadn’t even realized he had lunged at the other male until the two of them tumbled out the window, wings beating furiously as they fought in the air. “You are a dirty bastard, Rhysand!” Azriel bellowed, the wind whipping between the two of them wickedly.

“You can do better than a little no-one fae!” Rhys yelled back, laughter on his lips.

“I won’t let you treat her like this!” Azriel went for him again, missing by an inch as Rhys dodged his grasp.

“I treat her wonderfully. She feels loved and happy, does she not? She’s certainly beautiful enough to be the wife of the High Lord, wouldn’t you agree?”

“You disgust me.”

“Ah, but do I? Would you not do anything to have her as your own? You understand the draw she has, the desire to taste her.”

One of Azriel’s shadows hit Rhys square in the chest, causing him to fall back in the air. “You don’t deserve her.”

Rhys flew back up, annoyed at this argument. “Are you going to be the one to break her heart? Tell her i’m just playing her? You can’t deny her happiness is real, you know I will keep it that way. Do you really want to destroy her perfect little world?”

Azriel paused, the words ringing true. There was no way to prove how Rhys was acting now, especially not when she believed him to handpick the stars in the sky for her. She was in love with his brother, and he couldn’t stop it. “You think you could love her one day?” His question came out hoarse, emotion taking over him.

Rhys looked almost pityingly at his brother, flying back to land on the window in his office. “I could,” he said honestly. “What may have started as a way to get under your skin is turning into something true. She really is quite amazing, Az.” His voice was softer now, a vulnerability shining through. Azriel hovered in front of his brother, a pang in his heart at his words.

“Promise to make her happy. Don’t ever let her find out why you went after her in the first place.” Azriel said, crossing his arms. If his brother was going to act in this way, the least he could do was try to preserve her peace.

“I will. Always. Don’t ruin this for her, Azriel. I need a strong female behind me, but also one who respects and listens to me. She’s proven to be that. She’s perfect for what I need. Letting her become unhappy would destroy what i’ve created.” Rhys said, leaning back on the window frame.

Azriel nodded, still uncertain about this situation. “I will be close by if she needs me.” He said, a threat to his words.

Rhys gave him that horrible wicked smile, a tease in his eyes. “She won’t. She will be too busy screaming my name whenever you’re around.”

Azriel shook his head, forcing himself out of the memory. He was a damn fool for letting Rhysand manipulate him like that all those years ago. He had still believed he wasn’t worth anything back then, that no one would ever love him. It was only rather recently he had begun to think otherwise. He was ashamed of his past self, regret flowing through him. He wished he could go back in time and take her far, far away from this court.

Maybe it wasn’t too late for that.

***

Reader POV

You laid awake that night, staring at the high ceilings of your room. The shadow Azriel kept with you floated about, twirling delicately through the air. You felt a crushing sadness, the truth about everything taking over you. You hated how much you missed Rhys. He was always so in tune with your emotions, knowing the exact perfect thing to say in any situation.

You couldn’t help but wonder if that was all part of his horrible game.

The tears slid down your face, silent and full of pain. You had never imagined a life without him. To you, Rhysand had been your everything. He was your husband, your High Lord, the joy of your life. You two had been discussing children before he was taken Under the Mountain, ready to take that next step together. You couldn’t tell if you were sad or happy that your attempts hadn’t yet succeeded by the time he was gone.

The little shadow came down, sliding across your damp cheeks. You knew it was alerting Azriel, letting him know something was wrong. You didn’t have the energy to wave it away. You were drained, tired. Your anger overshadowed your pain most of the time, but when night came the ache in your chest made itself known. You felt as if your heart was ripping itself in two, screaming at the hurt of it all.

Your bedroom door burst open, Azriel rushing to your side. You didn’t even move to look at him, having no will to do so. He silently slid into the bed with you, wrapping his arms and wings around you. He kissed your hair, a murmur of “I’m so sorry” falling from his lips. His embrace reminded you of how it used to be, before you got tangled up with the High Lord. The two of you used to fall asleep close together nearly every night, finding a comfort in each other you hadn’t had before.

You began to drift off at his soothing presence, tears slowing. The thought you’d been having too often lately circled your mind, leading you into sleep. You wanted to ignore it, the implications it held too frightening for you to deal with right now. Had you overlooked what had been right in front of you this whole time?

***

Ahhhh I love this chapter!!! Please let me know what you think <3. Thank you for all your love and support on this story, it means so much that so many of you wait for each chapter to come out !!

Taglist: @amara-moonlight @tothestarsandwhateverend @onlyangellh @hnyclover @greenapplesaucepi @just-a-social-casualty-1 1 @heyyitsnat21 @mirandasidefics @bubybubsters @mybestfriendmademe @thaynarajejheje @brujitafantomatico @justdreamstars @thisblogisaboutabook @lees-chaotic-brain

[barrenclan]

"PATFW is a story about love!" Yeah so was Romeo and Juliet

Every story is about love.

[ughitsmimi]

-Heidi Priebe

[star-struck09]

After you left, I would say your name in the dead of the night to taste the memories of you.

[visionsofaselfmademan]

[star-girlfriend]

Can grief be beautiful? Should it?

mitski francis forever // shannon barry (barry_happy on instagram) // sylvia plath the unabridged journals of sylvia plath // ocean vuong // unknown (pinterest) // @ryebreadgf on tumblr // brenna twohy zig-zag girl

[aestheteinreverie]

how did hozier come up with “true that the sound of the saw must be known by the tree” as a metaphor of knowing of the relationship’s inevitable end, of knowing love is on the path of destruction. no seriously how the fuck do you come up with that

[aventurineswife]

[Inspired by]

The weight of the gift box lingered in your hands—heavier than it looked, heavier than it had any right to be. The velvet beneath your fingertips, soft and inviting, seemed almost mocking. Aventurine's flair for dramatics clung to every detail, but the somber stillness of the moment stripped away his usual charm.

You opened the lid with trembling fingers, revealing a set of poker coins gleaming in the dim light. Each coin shone brilliantly, polished to perfection, yet cold to the touch. Your reflection warped across their surfaces—fractured, distorted.

Beneath the coins lay the letter, its folds crisp, the ink bold yet eerily delicate. You recognized his handwriting immediately. The flourish of each letter mirrored his showmanship, but the words carried the weight of a man stripped bare of illusion.

When all the things worth cherishing in life are traded for chips that flutter between your fingers, losing them becomes all too easy.

“What a gambler gains in the end is also what they lose in the end.”

Your breath hitched.

The room felt smaller, the walls closing in as the silence thickened. Each word burrowed deeper into your chest, cold and cutting, like the edges of the coins now clutched in your hands. You tried to imagine his voice as you read the words again, but all you could summon was the emptiness between his practiced smiles and hollow laughter.

Was this his way of saying goodbye?

Anger bloomed hot and fierce in your chest, but it wilted almost as quickly, leaving only a raw ache. The coins clinked softly as your grip faltered, each sound a reminder of how easily they slipped through your fingers—just like him.

He had always warned you, hadn’t he? Always made you understand, in his roundabout way, that he was a man destined to play and lose. But you had stayed, believing you could be the exception to his game, the one hand he would never fold.

The coins lay scattered across the table now, their perfect symmetry disrupted by trembling hands. The letter remained open, its words blurred as tears welled and spilled, each drop darkening the paper like the weight of the truths he’d left unsaid.

You wanted to scream, to call him a coward for running, for turning your connection into another gamble he couldn’t afford to keep. But beneath the hurt, you understood. You always had.

He had never feared losing the game. He had feared losing you. And, in the end, his way of keeping you safe was to let you go.

A single coin rolled off the edge of the table, hitting the floor with a hollow ring. You didn’t pick it up. You couldn’t. Instead, you sat in the quiet, clutching the letter to your chest, feeling the weight of his absence press against your heart.

And though you didn’t want to admit it, you finally understood: Aventurine had gambled, and this time, he had lost everything.

If anyone would like to write a continuation of this, be my guest! 🥰🤗

[changing-the-narrative]

on the experience of loving you

adult grief - louise glück // unknown (has been attributed to anaïs nin, but i cannot find a solid source) // orange juice - noah kahan // completelysincerely // the winner’s kiss - marie rutkoski // vintage fantasy // autumn - niki // the unabridged journals of sylvia plath - sylvia plath // cotton candy on a rainy day - nikki giovanni // unknown

[azrielsdove]

Love and Loss: Ch.7

Warnings: Mention of Injury, Some Smut, 18+

Ch.6 Here | Ch.8 Here

***

You were not happy about being dragged to the Illyrian war-camp with everyone else. Azriel had demanded it, refusing to go anywhere without you since that night after the Hewn City. He acted as if he let you out of his sight you would disappear from him forever. Nothing more had happened since then, besides his need to be more protective than normal. Even at night you would feel the cool brush of his shadows running over your arms, checking in to make sure all was well.

You didn’t mind any of that, but bringing you out here when you had no reason to come? You were annoyed with him and he could certainly tell. You hadn’t said a single word to him since he had dropped you in this cabin. Not that you particularly wanted to stay at the House of Wind when all the Illyrians were gone, but that was beside the point. You didn’t appreciate him making you come, especially when it meant more time around Rhysand.

Luckily for you, he and Feyre had been gone for a few days. You sat on the plush chair with your feet tucked up under you, a book in your hands as usual. You were pointedly ignoring the shadows twirling through your fingers as you read, even more so ignoring their master in the corner of the room. You could tell he was growing agitated with you, not quite understanding why you were so upset.

“Why won’t you talk to me?” He asked, voice low. You didn’t look up from your book or respond to his question. “I know you’re mad I brought you here, but I don’t like the idea of you being alone up there. What if you needed one of us?”

You turned the page in your book.

A shadow swirled up your neck and hooked around your chin, forcing your gaze up to the Shadowsinger. He had stalked closer to you, standing in front of you now. “I don’t like being ignored,” he murmured, gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips. You shoved down the heat that was creeping up through you, reminding yourself that you’re supposed to be angry.

“I don’t enjoy being forced to come wherever you go like i’m your little toy,” you shot back. He leaned down closer, hands coming to rest on the arms of the chair below you. His shadow remained on your chin while the others ran over your arms and legs.

“You’d rather I left you unprotected, stuck miles up in the sky?” His eyes were hard, his breath fanning over your cheeks. You glared right back at him.

“It would have been preferable to being stuck here.” Your disdain for the violent Illyrian camps was not something you hid. You remembered the stories Rhysand had told you of their youth, and how hard he had worked to try to change things. How slow that change was coming.

Azriel leaned down even more, lips close enough to brush yours as he spoke. “Mmm, but then you wouldn’t have me around.” His voice was teasing, a light in his eye. You hated how easily he could bring your brain to mush, turn a bad mood into a good one.

You were seconds away from closing the minuscule gap between the two of you and press your lips to his. A loud bang outside accompanied by yelling tore you from the moment, Azriel running to the door as you stood behind him.

You heard the faint voices of Mor and Feyre, and then Cassian was dragging in a near-dead Rhysand. You despised the way your heart stopped at how he looked, the decades of your love for him making his pain your pain. Azriel helped Cassian pull him onto the couch as you hurried to the kitchen, grabbing any healing supplies you could find.

You ran back to the injured male on the couch, kneeling down next to him as you assessed what had happened. Azriel and Cassian shifted behind you, upset at the state of their brother and unsure what to do. “Go,” you told them, “stand outside. Watch for anyone coming. I can handle him.” The pair nodded at your command, following each other out the door. You knew their anxieties would only make this harder, and sending them outside to pretend to do a task would make everyone’s lives easier.

You undid Rhysands shirt, pulling the blood-soaked fabric off of him. He groaned at your touch, eyes rolling back into his head. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, focusing on the injuries in front of you. You took out a warm washcloth and began dabbing the blood away, trying to find where each wound began and end. You had trained in some healing techniques long ago, a useful tool when you married an Illyrian.

You had been in similar situations, cleaning blood and stitching up your husbands wounds. This time was drastically different, and not just due to the fact you weren’t really together anymore. He was quiet. In the past even his worst injuries he had joked through, lightening the mood as you worked on him. Now, he had nothing to say. He wouldn’t even open his eyes or acknowledge what you were doing. It was like something had been sucked out of him, something had destroyed him.

You finished stitching what you could before moving to his wings. “Rhys,” you said, “I am going to have to touch your wings to help you. Is that okay?” You knew he didn’t deserve this kind of respect from you, not after what he had done. You didn’t need to ask his permission to touch the soft leather you knew all too well. Yet something told you that this moment was not the one to start acting on your hurt and anger.

“Yes.” His voice was hoarse, hollow. His eyes stayed closed as you washed his wings with the rag, tears pricking your eyes at the deep slashes through them. You knew how much an Illyrians wings meant to them, how devastating it would be for them to be taken away. You were gentle with them, heart heavy as moans of pain came from Rhysand. You took your time making the stitches as even as possible, spreading a healing balm over them when you were finished. The last thing you did was pull out a roll of bandages, going back over all the wounds you had stitched up. With his fae healing he should be fine in a matter of days, but until then he would be forced to rest.

You had just finished placing the last bandage when his hand shot out for your arm. You startled at his touch, looking up into his now-open eyes. He was staring down at where his hand rested on your elbow, pressing your forearms together. You looked down as well, taking in the sight of your matching marital tattoos. “What I have done is unforgivable,” he murmured, hand tightening on your arm. You were inclined to agree, and you probably would have torn your arm out of his grasp and left in any other situation. The male in front of you now bore no resemblance to the cruel Rhysand of the past few months.

“Perhaps not unforgivable,” you gave, trying to ease his pain in any way. Your gaze caught his, taken aback by the tears lingering in his eyes.

“Do not lie to me to try to preserve my feelings.” His voice was thick, on the verge of tears. “I have treated you in terrible ways. I have said and done truly awful things to you.” He looked down at his chest, at the bandages cleanly placed there. “And yet here you are, tending to me as wonderfully as ever. I never deserved you.”

You sighed. “No, you didn’t.” His head shot back up to you as you pulled your arm from him, cleaning the healing supplies up. “However, that does not change what was done. What we had, once upon a time. Can you truly tell me it was all a lie?” There it was. The question that had been haunting you for months.

He took his time to respond, the silence taking over the room. You carried the remaining bandages and healing balm into the kitchen, putting them away while your question hung heavy in the air. Minutes passed while you cleaned, broken only by the sound of Rhysand’s struggling breaths.

“She’s going to reject the bond,” he finally said, avoiding the question. Your movements stilled, not quite expecting that. “She did enough to keep me alive before dropping me here and disappearing.” Truth be told, you couldn’t blame her. You washed your hands, drying them slowly on a towel.

“So she knows?” You asked, understanding that he must have told her. You walked back to the couch, looking down at him. He nodded, avoiding your gaze.

“She trapped a Suriel, to try to find a way to heal me. It told her. She’s angry that I would hide it.” You gave a humorless laugh, kneeling back down next to him.

“For the most powerful High Lord of all time, you certainly are also the dumbest.” Your blunt words shocked him, making him look back at you.

“W-what?” He sputtered out, not used to you talking to him like that.

“Rhys, please. She is your mate, is she not? You have already devoted yourself completely to her, something she had to have noticed months ago.” You sighed, pulling his hand into yours. “She will come around. Give her time.”

He held on tight to you, the ends of your tattoo lining up perfectly when your hands were connected. That was how it was made to me, to show the unbroken love between the two of you. The love that was now shattered into a million minuscule pieces.

“Remove this bond, Rhysand. It does you no good being tied to me like this.” You knew he still may not agree, that you didn’t not know his true motives behind keeping you around. However, you weren’t sure if there would ever be another chance to ask. When he was vulnerable enough to be kind.

You were pleasantly surprised when he nodded, thumb stroking over your hand one last time before he let go. “Okay,” he agreed, voice weak. “I’ll summon a priestess.” You nodded, standing from your spot next to him.

“Rest now, Rhys.”

***

You found Azriel and Cassian outside, sparring to relieve the tension. They stopped when they saw you, rushing over to ask how Rhysand was. You raised your hands, silencing them before they could even speak. “He will be fine,” you assured. “Feyre found out about the mating bond.”

“Feyre did that?!” Cassian asked in disbelief, eyes wide. You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped at his shock, shaking your head.

“No, no, she found out while trying to heal him. Where is she?” You looked around the two males in front of you, catching no sight of her.

“She asked Mor to take her somewhere far away. Where Rhys wouldn’t bother her,” Azriel explained. You can’t help but wish you had thought of doing that.

“I see. He is resting now, but you may come back in.” You opened the door for the two, Mor winnowing back at the same moment. She pushed past you to get to Rhysand, demanding to know what happened. You don’t try to stop her. While you could feel bad for his current state, you couldn’t deny you enjoyed seeing him get a little taste of his own medicine.

You grabbed the book you had discarded and headed upstairs, mind heavy with the thoughts of your conversation with Rhysand. You were concerned he was only being nice due to the possibility of Feyre rejecting the bond, and where that would leave him. A beat of fear ran through you at the thought of Feyre rejecting him, and he decided to turn back to you. You shook your head as you pushed open the door to the room you were staying in, banishing that idea from your mind. You would never let that happen.

***

You had fallen asleep while reading, waking up with a sore neck and a rumbling stomach. You slept right through dinner, if it was even had. You stood from the bed, walking slowly to the door. You cracked it open and listen for any sounds of life before deciding to sneak downstairs to grab something to eat. You rubbed your neck as you made your way down, regretting falling asleep at such an awkward angle.

You enter the dimly lit kitchen, catching sight of Rhysand asleep on the couch in the living room. You say a silent prayer to the Mother that he stays that way. One interaction with him is enough for the day. You turn your back on the sleeping male and browse the cabinets for an easy meal. You begin to reach up for a pack of crackers when a cool shadow brushes against your waist. You smile down at the thing, wondering if Azriel knows one is out.

Your question is quickly answered when a hard body presses against your back, an arm reaching over your head to pull the crackers down for you. You turn your head to smile at your friend, a little surprised to find his face so close to yours. One of his hands comes to rest on your waist, the other landing on the countertop in front of you. “Couldn’t sleep?” He asks, voice low as to not disturb the High Lord only feet away.

You shake your head, a bit lost in his eyes and his proximity. You turn so you are facing him, hands coming up to rest comfortably on his chest. “Midnight snack?” You tease, gesturing to the crackers he had grabbed for you. His eyes darken and shadows swirl around you.

“Something like that,” he murmurs, leaning closer to you. Your heart is ready to rocket out of your chest, knowing Rhysand could wake up any second and catch you.

“Azriel,” you whisper, glancing at his lips. You should stop this, push him off and run back to your room. You shouldn’t allow his hand to move up to your neck, a long finger angling your head up to him while his thumb rests on your throat. You shouldn’t allow your arms to wrap around his neck, hand playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. You definitely shouldn’t lean up and kiss him.

You no longer cared as Azriel’s lips met yours.

The kiss was soft, hesitant. You could feel in the unnatural stiffness of his body that he was holding back, allowing you to decide what happens. You pull him even closer to you, increasing the speed and passion of the kiss. Your body melts into his, the hand on your waist wrapping around and splaying across your lower back. Your hand slid up his head, tangling itself into his soft hair. You opened your mouth for him, needing him in every way. You gasped as he lifted you up onto the counter, pushing your nightgown up to step between your legs. You wrapped your legs around his hips, tugging him closer, closer, closer.

He groaned into your mouth, nipping your bottom lip. The hand on your back dropped to your thigh, running up and down the exposed skin. His shadows were twirling around your ankles, your arms, your hair. Everything about him was intoxicating. He pulled away from your lips, traveling down to kiss and suck on your neck. You moaned lightly as the hand on your neck dropped, fingers sliding ever so slightly under the top of your gown. “Azriel,” you breathed, arching into his touch. He growled against your skin, placing a harsh bite in a spot anyone could see.

Not that you particularly cared.

Your hips pushed against his, desperate for him. Your mind was a blaze of lust, of need, and it could only be sated by him. His fingers dug into the top of your thigh at your movement, a warning to think before you did that again. His lips came back up to yours, kissing you so hard you were sure you would bruise. You felt something cold brush against your heat, an almost embarrassing whimper coming from you. “They want to touch,” Azriel said, his voice deep. You moaned when the shadow ran against you again, teasing the edge of your underwear. “Would you like them to touch, my love?”

He was going to be your undoing.

“Yes,” you gasped out, the shadow delving to where you needed it most. You bit hard onto Azriel’s shoulder to muffle your moan, pleasure radiating through your body. He resumed the kissing and sucking on your neck, hand fully sliding down under your top to cup one of your breasts. You dug your nails into his back, the sensations overwhelming. His thumb ran over your nipple as his shadow gave a delicious twist against you, cries falling from your lips. He pulled his hand out of your nightgown to bring your head to his again, lips silencing the noises coming from you.

The shadow began vibrating against you, your legs falling open to allow it more access. You felt the cool breeze of another one dip inside you, Azriel’s hand on your thigh keeping you available to them. You shook against him, moaning his name into his mouth as he kissed you. You felt the shadow push in farther, the sensation unlike any you had experienced. It stretched you open delightfully, it’s twin increasing the speed against you. You bit down on Azriel’s lip, the metallic taste of blood filling your mouth. His nails raked down your thigh at the pain and pleasure as you licked over the wound you had made.

You were close, too close. You didn’t want this moment to end, but the shadows seemed to sense the tightening in your body. They held their current speed and movements, bringing you to the edge. You arched against Azriel, head falling back against the cabinets as stars exploded behind your eyes. You shook against him, his shadows working you through the last bit of your release. He hummed in satisfaction as he watched your mouth drop in a silent scream, the sight one he had dreamed about for far too long.

He called the shadows back when he could tell your mind was blank with overstimulation, allowing you a moment to catch your breath. You brought your head back down, glassy eyes looking up at the Shadowsinger. Rhysand had never made you feel that good, and Azriel hadn’t even touched you yet. He smiled at you, brushing your tangled hair back. He took in your swollen lips, spit and a hint of blood glistening on them. You were the most magnificent thing he had ever seen in that moment.

“What are you doing with my wife, Brother?”

***

This is my favorite chapter so far 🫣 Please let me know what you guys think !!!!! I LOVE hearing your thoughts on this story <3

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[lochness-tess]

"I want to hear your voice."

[thelinguisticpoet]

365 Days Without You

I always thought grief would be black and white, monotonous for the most part. Then I thought it would be grey, like the clouds, right before it rained, holding onto as much as you can till you fall apart. But the past year has taught me that grief has colors, colors no one stops to notice or understand, colors I never thought I’d see again...

Sometimes grief would be blue, like the sky that goes on without an end, it was quiet and calm, maybe a little long yet soothing despite the sorrow deep within. Grief was green, like the trees, grass, and weeds that grew on the side of your grave, grief was growth and life despite the life lost. Grief was red, like the million flowers we arranged atop your grave in hopes you could smell them the way we could, red like the anger that kept seething despite all the rational thoughts and beliefs, a little faulty and unpredictable. Then, grief was yellow, it was funny with a little drop of sunshine where you could only think to find darkness, it was proof you could smile despite adversities. Grief is anything but the gloomy, grey picture we often paint in our heads.

I still vividly remember the day I received the call at work. I had only imagined what pain and sorrow would feel like until that moment, and despite knowing the worst has happened, all I felt was complete numbness. I could have sworn I held my breath on the ride home, wishing the car to speed past traffic lights, but also praying not to reach, not to ever find out what was awaiting me at the end of the journey. I was not prepared for this goodbye despite knowing and feeling its lingering presence for months. I was not ready to let you go… 

I had so much to say and yet silence engulfed me whole for months. I could never quite put my thoughts into words the way I wanted to, I could not speak to a wall thinking your presence filled the room or think of you as an angel living in the heavens above, looking down on me. I could not simply pretend you still were here, yet I could not completely fathom your absence long enough to understand that you were gone forever.

Maybe I was a little mad, but more than anger, it was sadness in a way I had never felt before. It was in knowing nothing would ever come close to having spent decades with you ever again. It was in knowing I could never again hold your hand as we walked through the park, never again drink the coffees that you make or share your favorite strawberry ice creams with you, it was in knowing I could never again hear your voice calling me out as I walked past your room, never again having your presence in celebrations and festivities that you dearly looked forward to. It was in knowing you’d never again sing along to the songs that played on the radio, never again waking up in the wee hours to catch World Cup matches, listening to your commentary and supporting Brazil because that was your favorite team. It was in knowing you’d never be the one who takes up the spot right next to me in family portraits and birthday photographs, it was in knowing I have kissed you goodbye for the last time and put you six feet deep where I could not quite reach you the way I wanted to. My sorrow was tied to never having you again, and knowing that there is still much I needed you for in life. It is tied to the absence and void that I now have to live and make peace with because there isn’t much else to do…

I expected myself to feel lost, to go through tons of emotions, behave irrationally, throw tantrums, and spend most of my days and nights in complete solitude. Life was a far cry from what I’d imagined, I spent most of my days after your loss swamped with work and I was surprisingly good at it. And when I couldn’t breathe, I found myself locked in a toilet or curled up on the bed, holding myself together on the brink of losing it, praying to keep it together for just a bit longer. This was a huge loss for the entire family, and with the emotional rollercoaster we all rode those months, I found it necessary to keep all my pain and sorrow hidden. I made the most jokes, recalled your time with us animatedly and did what I could to make sure everyone was okay. Most days, I kept myself mentally and physically busy to the point when I hit the bed, there was no room for thinking, let alone overthinking. All I did for a good six months or so, was work, exhaust myself and sleep.

Life took a complete turn overnight and I was nowhere near prepared for a death I knew was coming and would completely shatter me.

Tell me, how does one prepare for the complete absence of a loved one for the rest of whatever forever we have left…

I am grateful for photographs and videos of you; they bring you back whole to me for a split second every time I catch a glimpse of them. Sometimes, with my eyes closed, I could swear I feel you right here with me. In the moments I spend most alone, most broken and find myself hurting and longing for your comforting hug and presence, I feel myself break in a way I could never explain. But in those very moments, I think you’re somewhere nearby, holding my hands, silently sitting with me, the way you always did. I know you are right here. 

You’re in every flower that blooms in my garden, in every innocent smile and laughter of every child I meet on the streets, in the black coffees I drink every morning now, and in your favorite songs that play constantly on my playlist. You’re everywhere I turn, and it is not painful anymore. It’s comforting to know the things you’ve left behind in the form of objects, routines, and habits help hold me together in knowing you’re just as much here as you were before when I feel a little abandoned in life.

It still feels like you’re asleep in an unknown, unfindable room in this house, I still wait to see if you’d come walking down the hall whenever we gather for family time like you always do, I still think you’re here whenever I turn another corner or sit on your couch waiting for you to magically appear again as though nothing went amiss, like the past year didn't happen. I wonder if I prayed long and hard enough, if you'd come right back and life would resume playing out the way it was supposed to.

Sitting here, I could tell you I did not believe I’d make it past the first 24 hours, let alone a whole year. It feels surreal, like a never-ending dream I hope to awaken from and find you laughing with me as I recall every little detail, but it all feels less probable and more an unchanged reality as time passes by. With every day that begins and ends without you, know that I carry you in my heart, know that every step I take and every single thing I do, will embody you, and it will be something I hope makes you proud.

Tell me what I missed when I see you again, tell me how much you missed me and hold me till I feel whole again, tell me all your wonderful adventures from when you were young again even though I remember every story, every word, by heart, the way I do you.

I will always hold you in my heart for whatever life and eternity there is left to live,

with eternal love,

Rose.

In loving memory of my most beloved grandfather♥️

© Raina Rose 

[glennriley49]

Through the Storms

We began as fireworks in the night,

Lighting shadows with a dazzling sight.

Each word, sweet honey on the tongue,

Moments cherished, songs unsung.

But as twilight stretched, we lost our way,

Whispers sharpened, turned to fray.

When sparks grew dim, and warmth withdrew,

Lonely winds of silence blew.

Are we ready for the storms ahead,

The stinging rain, the paths we dread?

Love’s no tale of endless cheer,

It’s both the laughter and the tear.

Through deserts vast, forests deep,

We’ll seek the home our hearts would keep.

To touch that distant, sunlit shore,

We face the storm, endure once more.

Insecurity, a silent shade,

Jealousy, a thief well-played.

When joy falters, silence reigns,

Drowning echoes, unvoiced pains.

Promises once carved in gold,

Now crack under the strain they hold.

Yet still I rise, to fight, to mend,

To brave what’s broken, to defend.

Are we ready for the storms to come,

When voices falter, hearts go numb?

Love’s no tale spun from ease,

It’s the tempest and the breeze.

Through barren sands, tangled trees,

We’ll chase our hope, though on our knees.

To reach that paradise unknown,

We face the storm, and face it alone.

Each scar a testament, each tear a verse,

In pain we grow, for better or worse.

When arms entwine, when blame recedes,

We find the strength our story needs.

Let’s sit, let’s speak, and dare to trust,

For love demands, not gold but dust.

If we desire to watch it bloom,

We must brave the storm, clear the gloom.

Are we ready for the storms we fear,

The bitter truths, the falling tear?

Love’s no fable, dressed in light,

It’s the daybreak and the night.

Through paths unknown, we’ll chart our course,

Through doubt, through hope, through pure remorse.

To find the peace, the dream reborn,

We stand together, weather-worn.

Take my hand, through torrents fierce,

Hearts as armor, words to pierce.

Nothing treasured comes with ease,

But it's worth the fight, through storm, through peace.

Are we ready, battle-bound,

For love that bends but stays profound?

Through every high and every low,

This love, our anchor, will only grow.

@raceyrhymes @samcrosfaith

@ladyeckland28 @solesofwonder

[visionsofaselfmademan]

❤️‍🔥 "My Heart Is a Funeral Pyre" by L.S. Vogrich 🔥

"Not everyone can be saved by love. In trying to bring salvation to another, you will destroy yourself." This poem is for anyone who has loved too deeply, lost yourself, or is trying to rebuild something beautiful from the ashes. 🫂