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Fic rec pro hero bkdk???

yeah??? ^^ 

Oh My God They Were Roommates - 19.2k - Bakugou had really, actually moved in with Deku. They were roommates. Oh my god, they were roommates. (In which Bakugou's hero insurance bills seem to climb with every explosion he makes, and Izuku happens to have an extra bedroom and an absurd amount of patience for his childhood best friend.) 

What’s up danger - 2.2k - Because apparently, The fic where Deku punches a bigoted entailed asshole Alpha in the face wasn’t an appropriate title. Poor Katsuki has his handful with his mate nearly getting arrested, again!

take care - 1.9k - There are words to say stay safe, I’ll miss you, I love you, but Kacchan has always preferred to leave things unspoken. Izuku isn’t much with languages, but he thinks he’s figured out this one.---“Emotional constipation manifested as over-the-top housewifery?” Mina asks. Before Izuku can say that is not what he meant at all, she nods. “Yeah, I can see it.”

Caught Up - 98.7k - Midoriya Izuku returns home after living three years away from the country to become the best hero he can... But it is not just his fighting style that improved, the young man now is handsome, assertive and very straightforward. Bakugou Katsuki was not ready for it.

Outed to Yourselves - 9.2k - Izuku and Bakugou end up stumbling upon an intimate scene between their older selves. Bakugou explodes and bursts the intimacy bubble causing a mess of their future house and lots of confusion in the young teens.

Bakugou Katsuki is a Fucking Brat - Katsuki knows this isn’t a fight worth winning, but he can’t stand the idea of losing to Deku one more fucking time. “You think that flaring your scent is gonna make me cower, Deku?” Katsuki snarls. “You think that threatening me with your fangs is gonna make me submit like a good Omega?” “Oh, please,” Deku scoffs. “You’ll never be a ‘good Omega.’ You’d rip someone’s throat out and bathe in their blood before you’d ever submit.”

Fantasia for Two Gentlemen - 8.6k - Pro heroes Ground Zero and Deku get caught in a time-travel villain’s quirk and end up spending the night with each other’s middle school selves. Truths come to light, feelings find their home, and destinies change in summertime.

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Out of the Darkness, Into the Light

I’m slowly finishing all the unfinished fics sitting in google docs…this was one of them. Enjoy!

In her dreams, there was always a coffin. The dark and musty coffin always appeared, no matter if she was inside, or watching as she was brought toward it on the beach, or watching it as she was in Rowan’s arms while he ran away from it. The three scenes that all took place with the one thing that ever truly kept her as a hostage–kept her locked in a cage.

The next thing she pictured was always the violet eyes. The whip across her back. How she was dragged across the sand. The months she traveled in that tight space, with that beautiful mask over her face.

Those weren’t the only things in her dreams. The events of when she almost died forging the gate, sending the Valg back to where they belonged. The events where she physically saw and felt her mate impaled in the stomach by a sword.

It was those days, those events, that always woke her from her sleep.

Aelin’s back ached as she sprung up from her sleeping position. Ever since the war that ended a year ago, her back had healed, with Yrene Towers using her magic to patch together the skin. But it still pained her with sudden movements, or when she stretched the skin too much.

She looked around to the many candles that were flickering in the room, all lit by her before her and Rowan went to sleep. No more were the days where she could sleep without light in the room. It always made her think of the never-ending darkness in that iron coffin. The flames in all of the candles went out, giving Aelin a panic before she willed her magic to make them all glow again. She wanted to get up, wanted to walk around the castle or at least open the blinds to watch the stars twinkle brightly in the sky. But she stayed, head hanging in her hands.

Aelin almost never cried. There were rare times, when the feeling was too overwhelming, like when Sam died, or with Rowan. Sometimes the ache got too much, and she needed to let go.

Tonight was one of those nights.

She didn’t know what was making her cry then, since in all nightmares she tried to get herself to go back to sleep. Tonight was different, and she tried to press her fingers to her eyes, trying to get the tears to go away.

“Fireheart.”

“Go back to sleep.” The words were quick out of her mouth. She hated waking Rowan up, hated how he lost sleep because she was often waking up with nightmares.

Her husband still moved closer to her, turning around from his sleeping position and laying an arm around Aelin’s waist.  Rowan let a breath go, rubbing his thumb along her side and then moving his head to look up to her.

“You’re okay,” he said. “Nothing can harm you.”

Aelin nodded her head, wiping at her face and ridding her cheeks of the tears. “Go back to sleep.”

Rowan was true that nothing could harm her. There were extra guards stationed at every corner, in every wing of the castle. Every member of the Cadre stayed in rooms close to every entrance, ready to protect their queen. Aedion and Lysandra stayed in the suite next to her and Rowan’s. Then, her own husband and mate slept right next to her, now held her in his arms.

She was safe.

Maeve was dead. Aelin was safe.

Rowan didn’t go back to sleep until Aelin was laid down again, head on the pillow, and eyes shut tight. The darkness was terrifying, and her eyes opened wide again, breaths picking up and tears starting in her eyes. Her mate tightened his arms around her, not saying a word and only offering his presence as a beacon of peace.

The comforting and familiar scent of Rowan cleared the anxiety in her stomach. Aelin focused on the sound of flickering candles, willing her heart to calm down. Rowan followed the silent command to turn on his back and Aelin settled her head to lay right on top of his heart, a kiss from Rowan given to the top of her head.

He was alive. Rowan was alive and safe, and so was she.

The darkness was gone and never again would it consume her.

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“I will always find you.”

So yeah, I’m not ready for next week 😭

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The feels.

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the queen and her king.

a repost with better quality lighting and details not so lost, so i regret nothing, because im so damn proud of this :”)

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Rowaelin & Feysand

by @emmilinne

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I remember so many people kept asking me to paint Rowan with short hair 😂 and I kept refusing it 😂😂 honestly I don’t like his character and didn’t want to paint him again just because he changed his hairstyle. So here he is guys… Rowan with short hair. Hope you guys will like it xoxo This was commissioned by @shelflovecrate and the character is from Throne of glass series by @sjmaas

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Motto

“Books, cats, life is good.” ~T.S. Elliot

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“Once upon a time, in land long since burned to ash, there lived a young princess who loved her kingdom… ”

I absolutely adore Aelin’s story! I started reading this series in August and it grew very dear to me over the last few months. It was a wonderful time and it really hurt to say goodbye to this world and the characters when I finished Kingdom of Ash

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No Apologies- Rowaelin Coffin Rescue fic

Trapped inside the iron coffin, unable to stand much more torture, Aelin barely remembers who Rowan is, but takes comfort in her dreams of him. Happy Ending, but also lots of pain. 

Here on Ao3

Aelin took a labored, wet breath. Her body shook with the effort, and she knew it was struggling to heal itself, using the power gifted to her by a woman whose face she no longer remembered.

The man with the whip and the dark eyes had been particularly brutal today. He’d beaten her until her ribs broke, until she was coughing blood, until the Queen with the raven’s wing hair had told him to stop. They’d break her tomorrow, she said. Or the day after that.

Only then had he placed her back inside her coffin, locking the manacles around her wrists, placing the heavy mask on her face. Aelin knew it would be the same tomorrow, only worse. He always, always found a way to make thing worse, to the point that being back in the coffin, with the iron stifling her magic, was a relief compared to his cruelty.

But still, she refused to break. She wouldn’t tell them the secrets of her friends’ location, of the witches rising to power in the west, nor of the black haired king who now held the key to saving the world. She couldn’t remember their names, but she knew she had to protect them.

Nor would she show her wildfire to the Queen. Not that she had much of it these days anyway. But she wouldn’t give the Queen the pleasure of dancing for her.

They’d tried, early on, to put one of those wretched black things inside of her. But her blood, laced with fire, burned it up quickly. She was no one’s slave.

She was Aelin Ashryver Galathynius and she would not be afraid.

No matter that she had all but forgotten what her three names even meant, or who she even was. But they were all she had.

That and the knowledge of him. She didn’t remember his name, but could envision his face clear as day. Strong bones, a shock of white hair, and swirling black ink. And his smell. She smelled pine and snow in her dreams. Sometimes she imagined she could feel him tethered to her, their lives intertwined, forever connected. In her dreams, she pulled on that connection and he was there at the other end, pulling back.

She guessed it didn’t matter if she knew his name anymore. She knew her own and that was all she needed to keep herself sane.

Keep reading

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when the world goes dark ; one-shot

author’s note ; so I got this anon months ago, and it inspired a lot of angst in me. the ask went as follows: “what if Rowan was still blood sworn to Maeve, and Maeve ordered him to hurt (whip) Aelin? Would their mate bond overpower Maeve’s blood oath? Or would the blood oath win? What do you think?” now, naturally, we can all presume that the mating bond would overpower in the sense that Rowan’s preservation of his mate would make his gd head explode if he had to bring harm to her. I don’t think this is how it would’ve gone. So, I skewed some technicalities and this is purely AU for some unadulterated, upsetting ANGST. You’re welcome. (TBH, I think this is some of my best writing.) So, I figured I’d publish this before KOA, because – well, yeah. I think we’ll get plenty of canon angst in KOA. ENJOY, LOVELIES.

word count ; 3119

ao3 link ; here 

ship ; Rowaelin / ft Maeve

chapter rating ; M for violence

tags ; angst, angst, angst, AU, whipping, violence, angst, maeve being a raging bitch

tag list; guys i lost my general tagging list halp

“Begin.”

The word harbored such an unnatural sharpness, clanging throughout every cavern of his body. Maeve’s voice boomed past the thundering in his ears, amplified by the very bond that had him standing in that exact spot. It sent needles through his veins, eliciting a profound pain that continued to surpass itself with each second more. The single syllable was served not as a suggestion, but a command, and his blood itched with it.

Rowan Whitethorn thought he knew torment, but all other suffering quickly paled in comparison.

He felt feral to the furthest degree, his heart racing in a panic while his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt short of breath, couldn’t recall the dizziness that accompanied such a thing. Senses that were usually hyper-focused, alert with predatory instinct, were now dulled as if his immortality was nonexistent. He felt as if he had been submerged underwater, everything in him fogged and diluted. Magic still existed and he was powerful as ever, but this feeling was akin to —

He swallowed against the memory, his throat dry like ash and it made him strangle a cough. Was it raw emotion or the warring of his body’s will that caused such disruption in the most basic instincts?

The last time he’d felt this lost in his senses he had just reunited with Aelin. Aelin, who was then only his queen, his carranam, his friend. It was a pleasant loophole to being sent, through Maeve’s blood oath, to track down Lorcan. Finding her. Holding her. Loving her. Gods.

Aelin.

His queen. His carranam. His friend. His lover. His wife. His mate.

Mate.

Keep reading

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Scars (Rowaelin)

a/n: found this old fic i wrote but never posted so here

Scars.

That’s all Aelin could see on the garden from her balcony. The garden that her bedroom overlooked was being tended to my scores of royal gardeners- the fresh earth was lashed with wheelbarrow tracks, some parts darker where they’d been trampled by countless feet, no flower visible yet. One cut overlapped the other until the soil was no longer a pristine stretch but rather a rough slab, raised in places like scabbed over flesh and deeply indented in the other like fresh wounds. The silvery moon light glittered over the upraised lines, dripping and leaking through like blood. It looked intentional, those slashes made with deliberate maliciousness, the flowers forced to count as the earth melded and was manipulated, pushed, destroyed-

“Fireheart,” a voice rough with sleep said from behind her. 

She just rubbed her hands down her arms where goosebumps were erupting, trying to stop seeing her own back superimposed on the ground, trying to stop herself from comparing those rut marks to the whip imprints marring her back. 

 "Aelin,“ he said, a little more insistent this time, waiting for her to face him. When she didn’t respond he moved. 

She heard the soft rasp of blankets being pushed aside but not the sound of his footsteps. She could feel his presence, his warmth, his breath on her back. She could always feel him- no matter if there was a mere millimeter between them or miles. 

He pulled her towards him gently and folded her into his arms, creating a little cocoon of heat that drove away the darkness she couldn’t keep away. She left her hands motionless but pressed her face closer to his bare chest and shuddered. 

Rowan said nothing, just held her until she stopped feeling like an untethered lantern, its fire slowly flickering out as it aimlessly drifted, right on the verge of plummeting into the ravine that yawned below. 

His winds guided her towards the shore almost invisible in the distance, stretched out a path of snow that tied her down to this Earth. 

“Today was… a bad day,” she forced the words out. She wasn’t used to admitting to weakness- no, Aelin Ashryver Galanthynius doesn’t feel emotions like fear or depression or despair. She is the godsdamned Queen of Terrasen. She cannot afford to. 

But this was Rowan. For him, and him only, would she allow herself to be vulnerable. Because she knew he would only catch her, even if she fell off the precipice into the ravine. He would die for her, as she would for him. They were, after all, mates. 

Rowan didn’t say anything; he just tightened his arms at the base of her spine and waited for her to tell me whenever she was ready. 

“I can’t stop seeing it. Everything looks like her and what she did to me. Rowan, I-” she choked on her words. Closing her eyes against the waves cresting behind her eyelids, she took in a deep breath and tried to stop her hands from shaking. 

“I’ve never been as weak, as defenseless, as useless as I was when she trapped me. I was naked- in so many ways apart from physical. And when she put that rutting ring on me, I was her little puppet to play with, I couldn’t fight against it,” the tears had slipped from behind her eyes and her voice cracked with broken shards of glass. Her whole body was trembling now, trying to physically recreate how shattered she felt inside. 

Rowan pressed a kiss to her temple and ran his warm hands up her cold arms softly- but Aelin could sense his mouth tightening with anger at the way his Fireheart had been tortured. 

“And then I almost killed you-”

Rowan snarled. 

Aelin drew back from his arms a little to look at his face, gauging his reaction. He had descended into that killing calm, every line of his face was hard and unrelenting and cold. 

“Don’t you ever blame yourself. You got out, you defeated that rutting bitch, you came back,” he said, the unspoken words visible in his eyes so brightly he might as well have said it out loud.

To me. You came back to me.

Aelin tried to smile- tried because she truly was grateful that she was back, that she once again had to luxury of being in his arms, of feeling his lips against her temple, his heartbeat thundering beneath her warm palms.

But she was so cold these days.

“Fireheart,” Rowan finally said when she didn’t respond. He tipped up her chin until her dull, empty eyes met his and brushed a loose piece of hair away from her face,“I know it’s not easy. I know that you’re so used to burning bright like a godsdamned supernova and being the one everyone relied on that you want to return to that same place now.”

Without warning, she suddenly felt hollow at the reminder of who she used to be, that overwhelming grief and anger and sorrow bleeding out of her in an instant. She wondered numbly if she’d ever get to be that person again- get to be someone who was strong, reliable and who didn’t succumb to nightmares and throw up her guts almost every night.

She felt, rather than saw, his heart tightening at the loss of light in her but he continued anyway in a slightly strangled voice, “But you can’t. No yet. And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. Regardless of your god complex”- her lips faintly twitched upwards at that- “you are but human. And you need time to heal, just like the rest of us.”

She nodded weakly, and buried herself back against his chest, trying to use his physical presence to shield her from the weight in her heart.

“I just don’t want to feel this… heavy,” she half-whispered.

“You won’t, someday,” he murmured.

“Promise?” she childishly asked, as if securing a promise from him would somehow stamp it to reality.

But he only replied so convincingly that she believed him just a little bit, “I promise.”

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After

“Aelin” Rowan threw back his covers and crawled towards her.

“Aelin, you’re ok. You’re safe.”

Aelin had wrapped her arms around her knees, a soft moan escaping her lips. It was as if she was screaming, screams that died before they ever reached her mouth.

Her shoulders shook against his, too light, too thin, nothing like the strong, tan mass of muscle they had once been.

He took hold of those shoulders, gripping them with his fingers. He could feel every single bone as he tried again to wake his Queen.

Aelin’s eyes stared forward, open and unseeing.

He threw his arms around her, pulling her towards him. She writhed at the physical contact, fighting to free herself from an imaginary cage. A coffin.

Rowan could have wept at the desperate blows she slammed against his chest. Despite it, he only held her closer, the pain of her fists nothing to the pain in his heart, his soul, and buried his head into her hair, murmuring her name, again and again, a prayer to the distant, cruel gods. 

Gradually, his Queen stopped moving, and lay, absolutely still, eyes clear, chest heaving.

“Rowan.” A question. Aelin’s voice wavered as if she couldn’t quite believe it was all real. 

Rowan exhaled. But even as relief washed through him, a sickening thought blossomed in his mind, his very soul.

No fire. Not even when Aelin had lost control. Not one spark, ever since she had returned. Perhaps killing that Valg Princess they had thrust inside her had broken her. Perhaps the darkness had extinguished that flame, that light.

Anger flared up in his chest. 

But even that didn’t matter. Not when Aelin was lying on her back, staring at the ceiling, while tears slid silently down her face.

“Tell me about it. Please. Let me help you Fireheart.” He pleaded.

Aelin grabbed his hand. He let her take it. Let her reassure herself that it was all real.

“Tell me about it.” He whispered again.

Aelin blinked, breathing heavily.

“I love you. I love you, Rowan.” Her voice was thick with tears.

“I know. I know, love. Tell me about your dreams.” He reached under her head and drew her into his lap, her head resting on his thigh.

She shuddered.

“No.”

Rowan’s heart stopped.

“Why not Fireheart?” He rasped. They were mates. She should have trusted him enough to tell him anything. 

But even before everything had gone to hell, she had not always trusted him. She had not even trusted him enough to tell him that he was hers.

Aelin closed her eyes.

“Because I love you.”

I’m struggling to write Dust and Shadows - Part 6 so instead, I’m writing this. Tell me if you would like me to continue!

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“No one suffers as beautifully as you.” - @veschwab

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Because I need to get over artblock and there’s only 22 more days until ACOL comes out and LILA NEEDS TO RESCUE KELL FOR THE SAKE OF MY ETERNAL SOUL

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“She bent most of the rules. She broke the rest.”

Lila Bard from Shades of Magic (V.E. Schwab)

I love it when I manage to draw exactly what I want