#i like bombshell women who are incredibly mean and ruin everything. what can i say. i like a sexy disaster. i like a hot hypocrite | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

flowerflamestars · 5 years

Note

How did Feyre and Rhysand meet in your Ivy Moon AU?

Yall know I love this backstory!

Okay, so as established in Ivy Moon: the sister’s magically hidden home is in upstate new york. Elain very briefly attended Columbia- this is the fake degree she currently uses in the human side of her career. Nesta flat-out did not go: she had just been hired by Amren at the time, and was already rising as one of the most in demand curse-breakers around. She has No Time for human life.

But Feyre, the youngest and most curious about her human father, wanted a real human experience. She gets into NYU and studies in succession: poetry, theatre, photography, before settling on making gigantic, watercolor melded canvases.

The older Archerons worry, of course. One of their Wild Hunt Uncles, Alaistair actually spends a semester posing as adjunct faculty to watch out for Fey. (It plays out like one long tweed cosplay and he leaves the avowed enemy of the history department.)

At twenty- one Feyre has been selling her art for just under a year. She’s about to graduate. But more stressful than that: she’s about to have her first solo show in the city.

A frantic spring of painting commences. Elain is on her yearly work trip to France- preforming alchemy and checking in on perfume production- but magically sending her little sister late night desserts, knowing damn well Fey isn’t sleeping. Only one batch is spiked with enough magic to make her take a break.

A month out, Amren and Nesta get called to Russia for a job.

While all this has been happening, Rhysand has been ruling the city. He does much of what his vampire father had taught him to: the magical world watches out for its own, but as the strongest, you have to be the watcher. (Nesta continually calling him a mob boss is not wrong).

He’s a respected leader, despite being the only dhampir alive. Helped along by the fact that Az had been living in witch territory for years and Cassian is the go to source of werewolf magic for the entire eastern seaboard.

It’s all going well, until Feyre walks into Az’s old diner, paint-streaked and seeking chocolate chip pancakes.

What Rhysand hadn’t admitted to either of his brothers, was that after meeting with a very concerned Columbia dean- and convincing him that no, one bronze age welsh immortal who wanted to teach the classics probably doesn’t mean faery invasion.- he’d wandered through a student exhibition.

Typical photography, found object art, and there at the back, a canvas with color so skillfully blended that his vampiric sight couldn’t find brushstrokes. (Feyre does not admit she’d made it with magic until after they’re married.)

An hour later, he’d found the director of the program and pressed five hundred dollars into her hands before taking it off the wall himself. Star Nursery I.

It was followed by Daybreak, Star Nursery II, Orion, and Mist.

Azriel owns a handful of successful restaurants, for both human and supernatural clientele. But this diner was the first of them, now mostly a human establishment, and Rhys goes there on quiet days. It still smells like Cassian’s childhood.

This quiet is interrupted by a messy haired, tiny bombshell of a witch slamming into him.

(This is the incident that sparks one of the iconic Feyre-and-Nesta-boytalk conversations referenced in Ivy Moon. Elain is the sister you go to for emotional advice, but Nesta is the one you take the sexy disaster queries to.)

Feyre is too busy dying inside to apologize because Rhys is beautiful. Classic sculpture beautiful, with big purple eyes and dressed in a three piece suit that looks like sin and smells like money. Feyre thinks, as she tells Nesta, fuck, bench press me. And runs away.

Rhys is ALSO silent: because he knows her scent. This is painting girl: and she’s a witch.

Angst proceeds: Rhys thinks Feyre ran away because she knows who he is- she does not- Feyre is horrified for days she smashed into a man that gorgeous with unwashed hair and holding an armload of chocolate chip pancakes like a disaster child- he thinks she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

But Rhys has other things to deal with: a creepy old vampire acquaintance has been stalking around NYU and Rhys wants nothing more than to throw him out of the city.

He follows Tamlins scent all the way across town and runs into Feyre again.

Witches don’t believe in coincidence. She might not know who Rhys is, but he’s a powerful something- past the incredible hotness. But she’s also by far the nicest Archeron.

So she apologizes for the first run in. Says that she has nothing to do with the city magic, and if this is his territory she’s sorry again- but she had to go to three different stores to get the right shade of green and she’s leaving now anyway.

Rhysand, devoid of all charm because Feyre turns him into a puddle: BUT A VAMPIRE IS FOLLOWING YOU

Feyre, who literally just saw him flash fang and also was kidnapped by a demon a year ago: ARE YOU KIDDING ME.

She pepper-sprays him with colloidal silver and runs away.

Being a dhampir, this doesn’t work for more than to soak his hair. But in the meantime Feyre has run right into Cassian, who was helping with the Tamlin hunt. (Cassian calls him creepy vampire malfoy. He is not wrong)

Cassian, one of those dudes who despite being a sexy mountain has that chris-evans-I respect ALL women vibe: Are you okay??

Feyre, pissed as fuck because her bag broke and now she’s going to have to go to a fourth art store: A FUCKING VAMPIRE IS CHASING ME. NO. NOT OKAY

Rhysand, skidding around the corner human fast and dripping: I DIDN’T MEAN ME. I’m not chasing you, there’s another vampire!

Cassian, gamely not laughing: I don’t know dude, that looks like chasing.

Rhysand: CAS

Cassian: Are you covered in silver spray? What the fuck, Rhys?

Feyre:

Eventually everything works out to the fact that Tamlin is straight up stalking Feyre. Rhys obviously vows to keep her safe no matter what. Having no time for any of it, Feyre says fine- not thinking AT ALL about how SEXY SEXY SEXY he is- but I’m not stopping work.

What proceeds is a month long extended shenanigan of one of the brothers being with Feyre at all times while she frantically makes art. Wanting to prove that she’s fine and can handle it all herself, she refuses to tell either of her sisters.

Somewhere, Cassian goes, WAIT, NESTA ARCHERON, CURSE-BREAKING GENIUS, SPEAKER OF THE DEAD, LEGENDARY HOTTIE, IS YOUR SISTER?

Cassian goes to Delaware to heal some werefox children, which is fine, because Rhysand is now seeing to Feyre’s around the clock protection personally.

SEXY SEXY SEXY

The show comes! Rhysand sees Feyre all dressed up and lacking any trace of paint or glitter for the first time and bites through his own tongue. He resists the urge to buy the entire gallery only barely- but Az does buy a wall sized canvas.

SURPRISE Elain came home early to see the show!

Cue Az summoning the courage to offer her a drink, all shy smiles.

Elain: Do you have any idea who the fuck that is with my baby sister?

Everyone meets. Feyre tackle hugs Elain, Elain congratulates her expansively. Az is charmed, Elain intimidates the FUCK out of Rhys, Az decides she’s his new best friend.

Feyre is called away to meet a buyer.

LO AND BEHOLD, the buyer is creepy Tamlin who tries to zoom her away at vampire speed.

But Feyre is an Archeron, raised by the wild hunt. She’s got knives under that dress and NO VAMPIRE is going to ruin her special night!

Feyre stabs him. What she didn’t know was that Nesta- protective as ever, secretly charmed her baby sister’s entire arsenal to make it a little more lethal, knowing damn well Feyre hates violence and is extremely vulnerable in the human world.

Fire magic and vampires don’t mix well.

Rhys wooshes to Feyre’s side around the time the wounds start to catch fire.

Tamlin: BUT I LOVE YOU. YOU COULD LEAVE THIS LITTLE HUMAN LIFE BEHIND.

Feyre: LITTLE? I worked for YEARS FOR THIS SHOW

Rhysand, taking in Feyre smeared in blood and ashes, with a dying vampire at her feet and still wearing that glittering black dress: Marry me

Feyre: THAT ART IS MY LIFE, YOU CREEPY, BLOODSUCKING ASSHOLE

Elain and Az arrive just in time for Tamlin’s final graphic wails. Az rushes forward to help, but Elain stops him. Hello, Elain’s seer gift.

Feyre, shaky but okay drops the knife. Rhys holds out a hand to help and then lifts her clean over the ashes. Tucked against his chest, Feyre breathes. Impossibly, begins to laugh.

Rhys, thinking she’s going into shock and taking a step back to see her face: Feyre?

Feyre, reaching up to cup his face: Of course, I’ll marry you.

40 notes · View notes

ifinallygavein · 7 years

Text

Rowaelin Gym AU Part 6

I am so sorry this took so long. School just ruins everything. Anyway this part and the next part will be at the same party but it would be so crazy long I decided to split it up. Some characters are based off of the bonus scene that takes place during HoF that I am so obsessed with. Anyway I hope you enjoy, as always constructive criticism is welcome! (also I love makeup with an unhealthy passion so I know that I ramble during the get ready parts, sorry bout it)

Previous Part

Next Part

Aelin breezed in through the front door of Lysandra and Aedion’s apartment.

“Honey, I’m home!” she sang.

Aedion walked into the main room where Aelin now stood. “Hey, that’s my line, don’t steal it.”

Lysandra strolled in on Aedion’s heels. “It’s only right that my boyfriend and my girlfriend get to use that line, Aedion. Share.”

He pouted a little while the two women shared a laugh. “Aren’t you here to get ready for your date or whatever?” He grumbled.

“It’s not a date.” Aelin snapped at her cousin.

“Sure it’s not,” he muttered as he found his way to the refrigerator.

Aelin turned from glaring at him to Lysandra who wore a little smirk over her lips. When she noticed Aelin looking it grew wider. “To the studio.” Lysandra commanded, clapping her hands.

Rolling her eyes Aelin trailed her friend into the bathroom. For tonight it was Lysandra’s makeup studio. Obviously Aelin could do her own hair and makeup, but something about someone else doing it for you was therapeutic. And fun. Lysandra directed her to a chair she’d placed in front of the mirror. The bathroom was surprisingly big so there was plenty of room. She plugged in the curling iron to heat up then turned back to Aelin.

“You’re still wearing what we picked out last week?”

She answered with a nod and a wicked grin. The dress was incredible. Sure it was only a little black dress but there was a reason that fashion trend had stuck around for so long. It was skin tight and hugged every one of Aelin’s generous curves, putting them on full display in the best show case possible. It was strapless with a sweetheart neckline that cut scandalously low and had a slit coming up to her mid-thigh. Simple. But very sexy. Especially because Aelin was planning on dripping in gold and diamonds.

Lysandra grinned back. “With that stunner I was thinking a nice updo. What do you think?”

“I like the way your mind works.”

The hairdresser started up a playlist and said, “Then sit back and let the master work.”

Aelin obeyed. The master, as she liked to call herself, picked up the curling wand and began to work her magic. For about thirty minutes she just curled her hair. Then after a quick spritz of hairspray she began sculpting the masterpiece. After the better part of an hour she was finished. Her golden locks were elegantly swept back from her face into a loose bun at the back of her head. In the front little pieces that didn’t fit into the confines of the style were curled to frame her face. It was graceful and casual enough to look effortless. The goal was to let the dress and the makeup do the talking.

“Lys, you’re truly an artist,” Aelin complimented her friend while admiring her handiwork.

The master flipped her own dark locks. “I know.”

Aelin checked the time. “Damn good thing we started so early it’s 5:30 and we haven’t even started makeup.”

Lysandra waved her hand. “Not to worry. You will look amazing and be on time. I guarantee it.”

Aelin smirked. “You’re the boss.”

“Damn right,” she murmured as she got out the tools she needed. “For makeup I was thinking classic bombshell with an Instagram twist. A neutral cut crease with a wing. Then contour with some bronzer plus a banging highlight, obviously. And top it off with a matte red lip.”

“Your vision is breathtaking,” Aelin agreed dramatically.

Lysandra turned up the music and put herself to work. She started on the eyeshadow, blending and sculpting to perfection. When she finished with the eye lids she moved on to the face; laying down foundation and concealer. While she baked Lysandra contoured her cheek bones, temples, and nose. Already Aelin looked more refined. She was a beauty as it was, by the end of this no one, male or female, would be able to resist her. Lysandra brushed away the translucent powder and lightly feathered some blush onto her cheeks and layered on a blinding highlight over top. She added some to the tip of her nose, on her brow bones, the inner corners of her eyes, and the cupid’s bow of her lips. After finishing off the face makeup Lysandra moved on to complete the eyes by working on the lower lash line. Just smoking out the shadow, nothing too dramatic. As a final touch she coated Aelin’s lashes in mascara and secured falsies to her upper lash line. Carefully she lined her lips and filled them in with a trusty dark red liquid lipstick.

With the applicator still in hand Lysandra backed away to inspect her work. She slowly began to smile. “Perfect. Now all you need is some setting spray, then you can get changed.”

Aelin was doused in setting spray. No way was this makeup budging an inch. When her face dried she grabbed her dress and shimmied into it, careful not to ruin any of Lysandra’s hard work. Putting on the jewelry she’d brought started to pull the whole look together. When she strapped her red stilettos on the ensemble was complete. She looked stunning. Diamonds dripping from her neck down between her breasts, her wrists, her fingers, her ears. Everything about her said that she was expensive and untouchable. Sophisticated and elegant.

Lysandra handed her a bottle of perfume to tie the whole effect together. “You look stunning darling. That work party is about to get steamy.”

Her red lips turned up into a devious smile. Aelin checked the time and realized she had to go. She grabbed her clutch and slid her phone into it. One last onceover in the mirror and she stepped out of the bathroom and made to exit the apartment.

A whistle. “Damn Aelin. Whitethorn is one lucky bastard.”

“For the last time, Aedion, this isn’t a date.” Aelin sighed.

“Could’ve fooled me.” He persisted with a wink.

Leave it to Aedion to cheapen the moment. Aelin cursed him soundly under her breath as she stepped into the hall. Just as she closed the door Whitethorn opened his. Her mouth went dry. And Aelin thought she had looked good. He had on a tuxedo that was tailored to perfection. It showed off his broad shoulders and narrow hips flawlessly. And Lord have mercy his hair! He must have gotten it recently cut because all of the edges looked fresh. It was styled impeccably, lightly gelled so it looked as though there was no product, it kept the longer side of his part in a neat swoop of frosty silver. And his tan stood out so beautifully against it. The light stubble that coated his jaw helped with that.

“You look,” Sexy. Delicious. Her brain supplied. “dapper.”

He nodded in her direction, “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Aelin studied her red acrylic nails and simply said, “I know.”

Whitethorn snorted. “At least I won’t have to worry about you acting any different.”

She smirked, then began to wonder. “Did you want me to? Act different I mean. Was I supposed to…?”

When she trailed off he prodded asking, “Were you supposed to what?”

Might as well just ask. No point in beating around the bush, she thought. “Did you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend or something? You know, so that Rebecca chick would leave you alone.”

“Remelle,” he corrected. Aelin just waved her hand as if to say semantics. He seemed to consider then said slowly, “I hadn’t really thought about it. We won’t say anything about the nature of our… relationship and my coworkers can come to their own conclusions.”

Aelin shrugged. “Fine. I just wanted to be on the same page.”

Now that that was out of the way she strutted over to the stair case and began her descent. Whitethorn seemed to realize where she was going and followed after her, his long legs allowing him to catch up quickly. They walked in silence out to the parking lot.

“Whose car are we taking?” she asked pulling out her keys.

Whitethorn took the lead saying, “Mine. What kind of date would I be if I made my guest drive?”

“At least you have some manners.”

He chuckled. “You act surprised.”

“Whenever I’m around you act like a brutish cave man. I’m surprised you tied that bow tie yourself.”

“Oh ye of little faith.”

The smirk he sent over his shoulder set Aelin’s insides to boil. She told herself it was just the heat of the evening air. “Where did you park?”

“Do you have any patience?”

“None whatsoever,” she informed him.

Whitethorn stopped at a silver Lexus and opened the door. “Then I guess it’s a good thing we’re here.”

She stepped into the passenger’s seat soundlessly. The leather seats were luxurious and every aspect of the interior was spotless. Honestly she expected nothing less. Whitethorn seemed like a fairly neat person. Seconds later he was sliding into the driver’s side. He stuck the key in the ignition and Aelin felt the engine purr to life. Nice.

“You said the Mistward Hotel?” he threw the gear into reverse but gave her a nod. She checked the time. “Well it’s almost 6:30.”

He cursed and pulled out of the parking lot at break neck speed. It took close to forty minutes to get to the Mistward Hotel. The hotel was in the heart of downtown and traffic was a bitch. “Did you have to take so long getting ready?”

“You walked out at the same time as me. But don’t worry, with your driving we’ll make it with time to spare.” She felt her stomach begin to crawl up her throat as she spoke.

He gave her a look and floored the accelerator. Aelin was right they arrived with about ten minutes before the event started. He handed the keys to the valet and the two of them strode into the grand entrance of the building. Everything about the place was awe inspiring. The chandeliers, the art, the architecture. It felt as though the breath had been snatched from Aelin’s lungs.

“Our convention room is down this hall,” Whitethorn told her nodding towards a corridor to the left.

When he offered his arm Aelin took it without a word. For the first time in a long time she was speechless. Whitethorn let out a little laugh. “If I’d known this would shut you up I’d have brought you sooner.”

Aelin glowered up at him but there was no real malice behind it, she was far too distracted by her surroundings. Together they strode into the rented space. Everything was elegantly decorated. Crisp white table cloths adorned the round tables set up sporadically throughout the room. The centerpieces were fine glass vases filled with perfectly preened bouquets of flowers. To Aelin it almost looked like a wedding reception. Complete with an open bar. Score.

“Rowan,” a sultry voice called.

Whitethorn stiffened but his face became a mask of calm. A devastatingly beautiful woman made her way over to them. Her pale blonde hair was half up with curls falling around her shoulders, the cerulean blue of her dress matched her eyes perfectly. If anything the blush was overdone on her ivory skin, but even then Aelin was just looking for a flaw on the gorgeous woman.

He gave her a tight smile. “Remelle.”

“It’s been awhile,” she held out her hand, which he shook far too quickly to be considered polite.

“It has.”

Remelle seemed to notice Aelin only then. Her smile became forced as she asked, “And who is this?”

“How rude of me. Aelin this is Remelle. Remelle this is Aelin.”

The two women shook. When Remelle released her hand Aelin said, “So lovely to meet you. I’ve heard about you.”

Remelle’s genuine smile returned, she seemed almost triumphant. “Oh, Rowan. Still talking about me?”

Whitethorn waved a dismissive hand. “Here and there.”

Her smile again became forced. “And how do you two know each other?”

Aelin slid imperceptibly closer to Whitethorn. “We’re just casual acquaintances. We met at the gym then my cousin and best friend moved in across the hall from him. Small world right?”

She turned a friendly smile over to Whitethorn as Remelle replied tartly, “Indeed.”

Thankfully another woman had impeccable timing. “Rowan, it’s so nice to see you again.”

When the two of them shook Whitethorn was far warmer than he was with Remelle. “Essar. Always a pleasure. This is Aelin. Aelin this is Essar.”

Aelin didn’t understand how Whitethorn could take someone so nasty to bed when there was someone as kind as Essar. Not to mention the small dark beauty had a set of curves that made even Aelin jealous.

Essar held out her hand to shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Aelin.”

“It’s nice to meet you as well, Essar.”

By this time Aelin had stepped away from Whitethorn. Even though she was a little grateful for the space, when Remelle glanced too long at the space between the two Aelin’s hackles rose. Subtly Aelin moved towards him again. And not a second too soon. Just then a man approached their small group. He was tall and slender, built like a whip. There was something about him that gave her a bad vibe. Then he smiled at her like that…

Her skin crawled.

“I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure,” the man directed at Aelin.

Swallowing her disgust she replied, “I don’t believe so,” she stuck out her hand. “I’m Aelin.”

“Aelin,” he said it like he was trying to keep her name on his tongue for as long as possible. Her revulsion threatened to surface but she leashed it so hard she nearly choked on it. “Such a lovely name.”

He took her fingers in his hand. Instead of doing a traditional shake he brought her knuckles to his mouth and brushed his lips against them. Aelin felt queasy but she managed a polite, “And you are…?”

“Benson,” he supplied, straightening.

Carefully she took her hand back. “Good to meet you, Benson.”

“You have no idea,” he said giving her a serpentine smile that had her guard snapped all the way up.

Aelin felt Whitethorn sidle closer to her side. It drew Aelin out of herself a little and reminded her who the fuck she was. She was Aelin Ashryver Galathynius and she would not be afraid. Especially of some weasel that was creepy at best.

People began moving towards the tables to sit down. The group swiftly said their good byes and dispersed. Whitethorn led Aelin to their spots. She felt several heads turn in their direction, male and female. Aelin liked to think they were all looking at her but… Whitethorn was looking sharp too. And standing this close she could smell his incredible cologne. To her it made him even more appealing.

Wait… appealing? Aelin stopped herself right there.

He had escorted her to a table where he pulled out her chair for her and then seated himself at her side. As people joined the table he would discreetly fill in names. Fenrys. Lorcan. Gavriel. Connall. Vaughn. Those were the ones assigned to their circle.

When the pretty blond one, Fenrys, Whitethorn had said, noticed who was around him a shit eating grin spread across his face. “This night is already legendary.”

“This is a work dinner,” the dark brooding one, Lorcan, grumbled, “how could this possibly be a tolerable night? Let alone a legendary one?”

Fenrys wiggled his shapely brows, “Because Whitethorn has a hot date for once.”

All at once the males’ attention snapped to Aelin. She could feel Whitethorn bristle from his place next to her. He was clearly about ready to start a brawl, God only knew why it’s not like the man’s comment was offensive, so she decided to handle it herself.

Bracing her forearms against the table’s edge she leaned forward, pouring every ounce of predator fluidity she had into the movement, and cocked her head. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

She felt his eyes traverse her form. They settled briefly on Aelin’s cleavage. When he finally met her gaze Fenrys said, “How unfortunate. We can fix that right now.”

A tight smile. “I’m Aelin. And you are…?”

“Fenrys. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Aelin.” He took her hand in his and maintained eye contact as he brought it to his lips. Kiss ass, she thought. “If I may, how did Whitethorn manage to get you to come with him?”

He still held her hand. “What do you mean?”

Giving her a roguish grin he clarified, “He isn’t exactly a catch. You my dear, on the other hand, certainly are.”

“Stop embarrassing yourself, Fenrys. Your flirting skills aren’t as good as you think they are,” Lorcan interrupted before Aelin could quip back.

Fenrys opened his mouth to snap a retort but quickly shut it as a breathtaking dark haired woman walked onto the stage. Her curls were pulled into an updo similar to Aelin’s that allowed full appreciation of her gorgeous, if cold, face. All of the men seated with her sat up straighter and stiffer. Including, to Aelin’s surprise, Whitethorn.

Taking a microphone the woman said, “Hello and welcome. I’d like to start out by thanking you all for coming. Tonight is a night for celebration. We are recognizing achievements and at the end of the evening we are announcing a new collaboration.”

She paused as polite applause rose from the audience. When it died down she continued, “Without further ado, I will introduce Cairn who will be hosting for the evening.”

Again polite applause filled the room as the woman stepped down from the stage and a man took her place at the microphone. Aelin noticed Whitethorn and his colleagues didn’t clap very enthusiastically for this Cairn person. Come to think of it, they hardly clapped for the woman either.

He began droning away when Aelin asked Whitethorn, “Who was the woman?”

As he leaned in she could smell his pine cologne. “My boss, Maeve Doranelle.”

“You work for Doranelle Inc.?” she hissed.

Aelin kicked herself for not asking where he worked, she was going to the event after all. But she never would have guessed he worked for one of the biggest publishing powerhouses in the country. The one rivaling her own place of employment.

“You didn’t know that?”

She gave him a look that said if I had known I wouldn’t be asking.

Several times throughout the awards portion of the evening Whitethorn or another member of their table stood up to go on stage and shake the Cairn guy’s hand and say a few words. Apparently they were prestigious associates of the company. Naturally. Just Aelin’s luck. She didn’t have any personal allegiance to the company that employed her but if her boss caught her here. Well losing her job would be the least of Aelin’s worries. Or so she thought. Cairn wrapped up the awards and Maeve stepped on stage once more. But this time she was accompanied by a man Aelin knew all too well.

“Mr. Hamel and I are here to announce the partnership agreement between Hamel Publishing House and Doranelle Inc. We have come to the conclusion that we would be far more productive working together than competing.”

It took everything in her not to let her jaw go slack with shock. But her mind suddenly put the pieces together. One or both of them plan on killing the other off. Suddenly it all seemed clear. The extra paper work and long hours that both she and Whitethorn had endured. Both bosses were preparing for the merge. Arobynn was ruthless enough to consider it and though Aelin had never spoken to Maeve she was convinced the woman was just as cut throat. But she kept her mouth shut.

She had to find the right moment to tell Rowan. Because both of them were close enough to this that if anything went down, they would go down with it.

@writerbutalsoanasshole @emilyshi101emu

#rowaelin #fanfiction #aelin ashryver #rowan whitethorn #@gym au #part 6

55 notes · View notes