Jul 27, 2024
Susie_ya/Vane_yaa (ao3/twitter) made me a bunch of fanart for the Numb/Recovery/Embrace set from Ira Deorum, and it is so lovely!! Thank you so much!! 😭😭😭😍😍😍
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Susie_ya/Vane_yaa (ao3/twitter) made me a bunch of fanart for the Numb/Recovery/Embrace set from Ira Deorum, and it is so lovely!! Thank you so much!! 😭😭😭😍😍😍
Whumptober Masterpost
I have a couple years that I didn't finish that I never made Masterposts for, so I've made one now (: All are linked under the cut and all are Tumblr posts!
Day 10: Unconsious w/ Seeley Booth
She was laying on the floor dried blood covered her forhead. Her wrists were bound in a strang postions and her clothes were ripped and bloody. If anyone walked in they more than likely would have thought she was dead except for the slight movement of her chest as she struggle to breath.
Footsteps pounded outside the abandoned house. Quiet commands were given in whispers. But they held the authority of a man trying to save the woman he loved.
Booth held up a hand silencing the officers who stood behind him. Footsteps started towards the house. Booth brought up his gun before rushing forward.
"FBI get you hands where I can see them!" The man turned and bolted. Booth waved for two officers to chase him down. He turned to the door. A padlock held it shut from the outside, there was probably a chain on the inside as well. He bit his lip before backing up. He kicked near the doorknob. Again, Again, and again, Until the wood snapped and the door flew open.
The moonlight flooded into the old house. Covering her body in an eerie glow.
"Y/N." Seeley’s voice was quiet as he rush forward. He fell to his knees and pulled her into his lap. He brushed her tangled hair away from her neck. His fingers ran up her neck trembling. Her heart was still beating. "We need an ambulance!" He yelled back to the officers,
"Seeley." A weak voice said from his lap. He looked down to see Y/N's eyes open slightly.
"Yeah Baby I got you."
OCTOBER APPROACHES!
And so does Whumptober 2019! Feast your eyes on this year’s gut-wrenchingly glorious Prompt List, and get inspired to create some killer content starting October 1st. There are some changes to the tagging system from last year, so be sure to give the attached Event information a read! If after reading you still have questions, feel free to send an ask to @whumptober2019 or reach out to the event creator, @la-vie-en-whump !
We hope you’re as excited as us to watch the Whump Community come together once again for a month of bone-crunching creativity and collaboration!
-Kat
The official Prompt List, Event information, and FAQs are all transcribed below the cut.
Masterlist - Whumptober 2019
Nr 1 - "I don't want to use it again"
Nr 2 - Explosion
Nr 3 - Twisted Fate - Delirium
Nr 4 - Twisted Fate - Human Shield
Nr 5 - "Stop Struggling"
Nr 6 - Dragged Away
Nr 7 - Twisted Fate - Isolation
Nr 8 - "He Got me"
Nr 9 - Twisted Fate - Shackled
Nr 10 - Unconscious
Nr 11 - "You're Bleeding"
Nr 12 - "Don't Move"
Nr 15 & 14 - Twisted Fate - Scars and Tear stained
Nr 17 - Twisted Fate - Stay with Me
Nr 16 & 18 - Pinned down & Muffled Scream
Nr 19 & 20 & 23 - Asphyxiation
Nr 21 & 22 - "Just focus on me"
Nr 24 - Fallen Heroes - Secret Injury
december doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop drawing AU prompts, it’s good art stream content
(Part 1 OCS) (Part 2, Part 3 BATIM)
Guardian Demon
Rated T. Warning for graphic injury.
*
"Shit, shit, shit," Crowley chanted under his breath, a litany of background noise he barely paid attention to. He ripped his sunglasses off and tossed them away, hands hovering shakily over Aziraphale's body. He hadn't the faintest idea how to fix this.
"It's all right, dear." The words would have been gentle and reassuring if it weren't for the raspy, weak way Aziraphale spoke. He coughed, and the way his chest moved was wrong. "The child?"
Crowley whined in the back of his throat, but spared a glance for the young teenager sitting dazed on the side of the road. "Fine. The kid's fine, I swear. Angel, tell me what to do." His hands finally came down to cup Aziraphale's jaw, clumsily wiping the bloody spittle from the corner of his mouth. Miracles he could do, but healing wasn't in any demon's wheelhouse. He was the only demon he knew who could heal at all, and this was... this was beyond him.
Distantly, Crowley was aware of the driver panicking, their shattered car embedded in a pole nearby; the gathered humans were making a lot of distracting noise, and someone had called for emergency services.
None of it mattered, only the idiotic angel in front of him who had used his fragile human body instead of a miracle to shove a child out of harm's way. "How could you be so stupid?" Crowley muttered, trying to feel out the damage. Lungs, yes, that's what the blood meant. And bones, at least a few broken...
"Hush. No big loss." Aziraphale smiled, reaching towards Crowley with one arm. The other lay crooked, unnaturally still at his side. Crowley grabbed the offered hand immediately, clutching it to his chest, eyes wide and fully yellow. "Glad she's all right. I'll be - ngh - back in a jiffy."
"You don't know that!" Crowley cried, curling forward. The angel grunted sharply at the motion, and Crowley cursed in frustration, dropping Aziraphale's hand like it burned. "We haven't heard from Head Office in months! Angel, please. Aziraphale. You can't discorporate. They might not let you go this time! They'll have you just where they want you! Why, why, you stupid, beautiful, noble - "
He cut himself off abruptly, trying to pull himself together. Focus. Lungs. Lungs must be the most immediate problem. He could fix that. Couldn't he?
Crowley closed his eyes, pressing his hands to Aziraphale's chest, muttering an apology when that drew a pained gasp. A miracle from below - he'd done millions of them, he'd healed his own corporeal form of nicks and scratches, he'd brought a dove back to life, for Satan's sake, this couldn't be that hard -
There, the cracked sternum, the fractured ribs, the torn lungs. He could sense it like he was there, existing amongst the capillaries and the flesh that made up Aziraphale's earthly body, more intimate than they'd ever been. Somewhere outside of himself, Crowley laughed hysterically. He was finally inside Aziraphale. It was definitely not what he had imagined.
Focus.
Demonic miracles were not meant to do this, but Crowley wasn't just any demon. Crowley never did what he was supposed to; he bent the rules, he found loopholes, he took credit and passed blame and he knew how to twist the universe to his will, and the universe was not going to take Aziraphale from him, not after all they had been through, not to some stupid human vehicle hammered together from the bones of the earth. If anything took Aziraphale from him, it would have to be God Herself and nothing less.
The puzzle pieces fit together. The universe bent.
A sudden rush of energy nearly froze Crowley's fingertips with the shock of holiness that edged it.
And Aziraphale sucked in a sharp breath, clear and healthy.
Crowley would never admit to crying; it was sweat that dripped off the tip of his nose and landed on Aziraphale's ruined waistcoat. He crumpled forward, suddenly exhausted, and laughed dazedly, staring at Aziraphale's shocked face.
"My dear, that was - " Aziraphale lifted his arm again, and blinked. Lifted both arms and marveled. "That was wonderful. How ever did you - that was practically Heavenly!" Awe filled the angel's voice as he moved, discovering nothing broken, nothing damaged. The only lingering sign of how he'd been thrown across the pavement was his ripped clothing.
"Don't know," Crowley croaked. He shook his head and scraped his hands through the tears dampening his face, but he couldn't stop crying and didn't know why. "I - I fixed you?"
"You did ever so well!" Finally sitting up, Aziraphale assessed their surroundings. The humans were handling themselves, emergency personnel bundling the driver onto a stretcher and others comforting the confused child. Their reflexive 'don't look here' celestial defense had taken care of their privacy quite nicely.
"That shouldn't have worked. But... but I couldn't let them have you." Crowley lifted his chin stubbornly, hands still shaking at his sides, until Aziraphale reached forward to clasp them in his own. Something buckled in Crowley's expression. "Upstairs wouldn't send you back, angel."
"I'm sure you would have marched into Heaven straightaway to fetch me, and given them a good tongue lashing in the process." Aziraphale squeezed his hands with a radiant smile, and Crowley offered him a watery one in return. "You have ever been my guardian demon, after all."
ii. explosion
Morgan is a runner.
Peter learned that on the day they met. Well, he was warned. She’s fast on her feet and is gone in the blink of an eye. Whenever he came over to play, she’d wear him out, with all her constant moving, from corner to corner, room to room. She was antsy, unable to stay in one place too long, and there was no way to distract her with a game, or a movie. She’d be up on her feet within a minute, looking for something else to do. Peter was built to chase after Morgan, according to Tony and Pepper, he was born to run after her. He was the only one who could catch up with her, and understand what she wanted to do next. He didn’t care if she wanted to play one-thousand different games in a single afternoon, he was more than happy to follow her anywhere, he had almost five years to catch up on, after all. However, going out for the day? That was a whole new task. Tony had, spontaneously, decided to take Morgan and Peter out for breakfast, while Pepper and May spent some quality ‘Mum’ time together, whatever that meant. Peter, being the paranoid older brother he was destined to be, started drawing up plans and solutions for every possible situation Morgan could run into. “Five minutes, twenty-two seconds….” Tony laughed, as they watched Morgan run off, towards a Florist, “That’s gotta be a new record.” Peter chuckled under his breath, he nudged Tony’s shoulder as he skipped forward, “You get our Pretzels....” He sped ahead, “I’ll get her.” “On it!” Tony called after him, with no argument. Tony was playing this off with his usual nonchalant bravado, but Peter knew that inside it killed him to see his daughter run, and know he’s not fast enough to catch up with her, not like before. Tony was adapting to life with a prosthetic arm, and still recovering from the fallout of using the stones. Peter had seen what Spider-Man was doing to him. Tony was reluctantly off-duty - he had to wait another four months before he could even think of stepping foot in an Iron Man suit again. If Peter got hurt on patrol, Tony had to rely on other people to help. Of course, they were the people Tony trusted the most; Happy, Rhodey, and Pepper. It didn’t matter who helped though, it tore Tony apart - not being able to help his kids. “Petey, look at these ones!” Morgan pointed up at a red and blue arrangement of flowers, “They’re Spider-Man flowers.” Peter’s eyebrows shot up, he pressed a finger to his lips, he shook his head as he knelt down in front of her. He loved that Morgan knew, it made life easier for them, but sometimes, it was hard to ask a four-year-old to keep a secret, especially one that big. His shoulders deflated, when he noticed that she was right because next to the flowers, was a small plaque that read, 'The Spider-Man Bouquet.’ Peter caught Morgan’s frailing hand as he stood back up to study the bouquet, his wasn’t the only one. There were arrangements for every Avenger. “Do you like them?” Morgan asked as she swung back and forth, using his arm as a monkey bar. Peter hummed as he looked down at her, “I love them...maybe, we…” His words died in his throat as a sharp pain shot up his spine and the hairs on the back of his arms stood on end; a warning he was all-too-familiar with. His Spidey Sense - commonly referred to as his Peter Tingle, thanks to May - was not reliable, but Peter knew that something was about to happen. Something big. He hadn’t felt dread like this, not since the final battle, when Tony snapped his fingers and almost lost his life, saving the universe. Tony. Logically, in Peter’s confusion, that’s where his mind went first. He clutched onto Morgan’s hand as tightly as he could, not wanting to lose sight of her. He snapped his head back, searching for Tony, he was on the other side of the street, talking to the Pretzel stand worker, wearing his signature ear-to-ear grin. He was safe. Reality hit Peter when he didn’t have long left to react to the coming danger. Tony was safe. They were not. Peter’s first priority was Morgan. Now, and forever.