xᴀᴅᴇɴ ʀɪᴏʀꜱᴏɴ (@MarkedShadows) header
xᴀᴅᴇɴ ʀɪᴏʀꜱᴏɴ (@MarkedShadows) profile picture

ɪ'ᴍ Qᴜᴀᴋɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ʙᴏᴏᴛꜱ.

нσяѕємєи / MV
Joined February 2016
Photo by xᴀᴅᴇɴ ʀɪᴏʀꜱᴏɴ (@MarkedShadows)Photo by xᴀᴅᴇɴ ʀɪᴏʀꜱᴏɴ (@MarkedShadows)Photo by xᴀᴅᴇɴ ʀɪᴏʀꜱᴏɴ (@MarkedShadows)Photo by xᴀᴅᴇɴ ʀɪᴏʀꜱᴏɴ (@MarkedShadows)Photo by xᴀᴅᴇɴ ʀɪᴏʀꜱᴏɴ (@MarkedShadows)Photo by xᴀᴅᴇɴ ʀɪᴏʀꜱᴏɴ (@MarkedShadows)Photo by xᴀᴅᴇɴ ʀɪᴏʀꜱᴏɴ (@MarkedShadows)Photo by xᴀᴅᴇɴ ʀɪᴏʀꜱᴏɴ (@MarkedShadows)Photo by xᴀᴅᴇɴ ʀɪᴏʀꜱᴏɴ (@MarkedShadows)Photo by xᴀᴅᴇɴ ʀɪᴏʀꜱᴏɴ (@MarkedShadows)
"𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐞. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐟 𝐈 𝐝𝐨."
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He despised this day. Gods, he fucking despised it. The day his entire world had been ripped away from him, leaving him standing amidst the wreckage of everything he had ever known. Why them? Why did it have to be his family caught in the crossfire? Why did his father have to-
Violet was determined that night to relax completely and utterly, packing away all her worries and scattered thoughts into a box, just as she so often did with physical pain. She locked that box tight and cleared her mind. She was with Xaden. It was a peaceful night. They were +
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He couldn’t— A movement beside him caught his attention. Silver hair. Xaden blinked, his vision still swimming with tears. For a moment, he couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing. The familiar face seemed so terribly out of place against-
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the burning remains of his world. “Violet?” His voice came out broken, barely more than a whisper. His brows pulled together as he stared at her, grief momentarily interrupted by sheer disbelief. “What on earth are you doing here?!”
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Replying to @lightningrider_
@lightningrider_ Sleep had never come particularly easily to Xaden Riorson. Even less so when his mind refused to quiet itself long enough to enjoy it. Violet was tucked comfortably against his side, her warmth a welcome contrast to the coolness of the room. His fingers had-
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tendrils stretching across the cold stone. He had spent years convincing himself that the past no longer held any power over him. Yet here he was again, trapped in the very moment that had shaped everything he would become. And somewhere beneath the surface of the dream,-
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in the warmth of the bed he had left behind, his fingers twitched against Violet’s waist.
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