#protective five

[chloesimaginationthings]

Mike protects his sister in every FNAF universe.. right?

[spotsupstuff]

On the Echoes, cosmology, Saint's quest(/inner identity) and the Rubicon. Half of these are from February...

bonus Théta doodles:

[loverln]

i was imagining a little polaroid of bkdk’s first date so i drew it <3 they’re both so excited/nervous but would never admit it.

[copepods]

finished my refs for the siblings! plus an alt robeless pebbles

[buddie-buddie]

Buddie + “Who did this?”

“Who did this?” Eddie’s voice is hard and icy in a way that's almost foreign to Buck. Almost, but not entirely. His eyes drop to where Eddie’s lips are pressed into a line, his jaw set, and memories of derailed trains and risky rescues and Abby flash in his mind. 

Buck doesn’t have time to focus too much on that, though, because Eddie's closing the distance between them and taking Buck's chin in his hands. Everything else fades away until there’s nothing but the familiar warmth of Eddie’s gentle touch and the pleasant ache in Buck’s chest, the same one that blooms behind his ribs each time Eddie’s nearby. 

Eddie touches him like he's something sacred, holds him like he's something precious.

“I–” Buck hesitates. It’s not that he wants to hide anything from Eddie, he just… he doesn’t want to worry him, is all.

It’s bad enough he has a fresh bruise blooming across his jaw, blues and purples swimming beneath swollen skin. Swollen skin that’s split in one spot, held together with a butterfly bandage that Hen insisted he actually needed, despite his protests and attempts at bargaining. Of course Eddie’s going to worry when he sees that.

And see that, he did. About three seconds after Buck walked through the door of Eddie’s house– no, not Eddie’s house. Their house. His lease on the loft had officially ended two weeks ago, but he’d been living at the Diaz house for the better part of the last four months, since the morning he woke up sleepy and cranky, grumbling about having to stop by the loft before their shift to get more clothes and Eddie had kissed the spot behind his ear and murmured, “What if you bring them all over?”

Buck had turned over in Eddie’s arms, suddenly wide awake. “E-Eddie.”

“Bring them all,” Eddie had said, bringing a hand up and tracing Buck’s birthmark with gentle, reverent touches. “And all your shoes, too. And the frying pan Bobby got you for Christmas two years ago that you said you want to be buried with. And the books on your coffee table and that plant you keep killing and honestly? Your mattress. It’s better than this one.”

“Eddie,” Buck had breathed, unable to get anything else out past the lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat. 

“Buck,” Eddie said simply. Buck would never tire of hearing his name on Eddie’s lips. “Stay.”

And Buck did.

This isn’t just Eddie’s house anymore, it’s their house. And a few minutes ago, when Buck got home, Eddie had come to the front door to greet him, just as he always did when he heard Buck’s key in the lock. He rounded the corner with a warm, easy smile, one that instantly fell the second his eyes landed on Buck. He had stepped forward, closing the distance between them and reaching for Buck’s bruised face with a gentle insistence that was still fond, even when laced in desperation. 

Buck didn’t want to worry him any more than he already had. Plus, really, there’s nothing to worry about. Their last call of the shift had been to an overturned vehicle, and the driver was more than twice the legal limit and just as combative as he was plastered. Buck had tried to stop the guy from crawling out his window– Chim and Hen had wanted to get him on a backboard– but it was no use. The guy was out of the car and stumbling towards Buck with a fury in his eyes, accusing him of being the one to call the police. Buck was halfway through denying that claim when a fist flew at his face, pain exploding from his jaw as he reeled back, stumbling to the side as his hand flew to his face.  

There’s a fire burning in Eddie’s eyes, dark and protective. But more than that, there’s a softness there, a gentleness hidden in the way Eddie’s eyebrows lift just slightly, his eyes wide and searching as he waits Buck out.

“Buck,” Eddie says finally, barely above a whisper. It’s a plea more than anything. 

Six years of knowing Eddie and six months of dating him and Buck still folds like a cheap suit when Eddie looks at him like that. “It's nothing. Just a drunk idiot on our last call.”

Eddie makes a dissatisfied sound under his breath, running his fingers over the bruised skin with a touch so light and careful, it sets Buck’s heart on fire. “And this person was dealt with.” It’s not a question so much as it is a statement, one that speaks to his trust in the rest of the 118. His faith in them to have Buck's back, especially when he can't be the one to do it himself.

Buck nods the best he can with his chin still in Eddie’s hands. “Bobby,” he says, and it’s explanation enough. “And then Athena.” 

Eddie hums, and Buck can tell that while the answer satisfies him, it’s not enough to chase away all of the concern that’s needling at him. Buck brings his hands up, curling his fingers around the warm skin of Eddie’s wrists. The steady beat of Eddie’s pulse beneath his fingertips is instantly grounding. And maybe just as much for Eddie, too, if the small sigh that falls from his lips is any indication. 

“Baby,” Buck says softly. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

Eddie’s voice is small when he answers, quiet and resigned in a way that splits Buck open just as much as Eddie’s words do. “I wasn’t there.”

Through no fault of his own. Christopher was running a fever the night before their shift started, and with Pepa out of town and Carla at Morongo again, Eddie had called out to stay home with him. Which he feels guilty about, if the resignation in his voice and the regret in his eyes are anything to go off of.

“You were exactly where you needed to be,” Buck reminds him. 

Eddie lets out a small sigh. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Doesn’t mean I hate it any less, though.”

Buck shrugs. “Never expected you would.” A small smile tugs at his lips, and he ignores the way that even the slight motion sends a fresh wave of pain radiating across his jaw. “Chim says we’re ‘sickeningly codependent.’” 

“Maybe,” Eddie admits, his thumb ghosting over Buck’s bottom lip. His gaze skates from Buck’s eyes to his lips, then back up again. Buck can see the moment Eddie hesitates, can see the flash of trepidation in his eye. 

“You’re not going to hurt me,” Buck assures him. “In fact,” he says, almost conspiratorially. “It could be what heals me.”

Eddie hums, a smile playing on his face. “Better give it a try, then.”

“Guess so.” 

Eddie finally, finally kisses him, and it may not patch Buck’s skin back together or undo the broken blood vessels, but it chases away every last bit of the pain. It ebbs away until there’s nothing but Eddie. Nothing but the feel of Eddie’s fingers in his hair and Eddie’s lips on his, nothing but the way Eddie grins against Buck’s mouth and Buck feels good and right and whole. He feels like an unmoored ship who’s anchor’s just hit the sand, no longer adrift. Steady. Grounded. Safe. 

He feels like he’s home. 

After all, he is. 

prompt game

[fivelila]

Five protecting Lila is something that made my heart flutter.

[artofalyksandr]

So what if I’m the monster lurking deep below?

Had this concept lurking in my head since like April so I finally did something about it to avoid thinking about The Horrors™️

[izzystizzys]

Echo’s world has gone decidedly… wobbly. Blurry. Fuzzy at the edges, and what-will-you-else. He can’t feel his fingertips, is his first thought. Kriffing overdid it on the glowing green shots, is his second.

“Holy kriff, Echo, that manhole-cover underneath you is moving!”, Fives exclaims, third. Or more like slurs into Lt. Jesse’s shoulder, who is himself moaning indistinctly into the Captain’s pauldron, who is in turn swaying back and forth gesturing at Commander Cody.

And it really is - the manhole cover, that is, once Echo stumbles off it with a shriek. Jumping up into the now open air with sudden force, steadying and then scraping across paveme-

“Are those kriffing hands?!”

In an instant, seven highly drunk pairs of fists and one blaster, courtesy of Commander Cody (the only one present who’s sober enough to be legally handling it) are aimed in a circle around the cover slowly being shuffled to the side, then the hands reaching up to palm at the edges of the hole -

- and are slowly being lowered again when two white-red painted helmets are heaved into view, along with chest-deep groaning and grunting. Two armored Corries collapse in a heap at Commander Cody’s feet, who stares down at them in open-mouthed shock.

Slowly, Echo blinks. Slowly, he raises a hand to snap his fingers in front of his face. No, still there. Slowly, Fives grabs for a piece of flank underneath his blacks and twists. Echo yelps, and slaps his hand away hard enough to hurt himself. “OI!”

“B’have, boys”, Captain Rex makes a brave attempt to slur out as he sways on his feet, still staring down at the trembling heap of armor at their feet. Whoa, Echo didn’t know they had those kinds of funky armor designs in the Guard. Very avant-garde.

“That’s blood, Ey’ika”, says Appo.

Oh.

Slowly, Hardcase raises his right foot, inching towards-

“Don’t even think about it”, Commander Cody snaps, and Hardcase’s foot whips back to the ground next to its companion. Fives chortles. “Yeah, genius, those are Commander kamas - they’d put you down in a second flat!”

“Why would two Corrie Commanders go crawling out of holes in front of 79’s, huh, genius?!”, Hardcase retorts, somewhat justly, Echo feels. Next to him, Commander Cody frowns, and kneels carefully. “Good question, trooper. Fox, can you hear me? Fox’i-“

Which is when one of the bodies - Commander Fox, Echo realizes with a shudder, The Marshall Commander Fox - convulses on the ground, and an arm rears up to nail Cody face-first with the back of a hand, sending him sprawling back into the pavement with an undignified squawk.

“Thorn”, the sad figure that is the highest decorated clone in existence groans, still faceplanted into pavement, “Thorn, I’m hallucinating Cody. Thorn, tell him to shut up.”

“Shuddup”, Commander Thorn heaves, loyally. Cody makes an affronted noise, braced back on his shebs. “Sdubid Codeh.”

Commander Fox’s visor scrapes against the ground with his nod, a sound that sends the surrounding vod’e cringing. “Yeah, you go, Thorn. You’re my favorite.” A considering pause. “Oh, kark. I need to call in medevac - Fox to Stabby, Fox to Stabby - the kriffing Narglatches are back on the lower levels.”

The Commander’s comm crackles to life, as he heaves himself over with a punched-out moan - oh, yup, that dark patch’s definitely not paint, and are those teeth marks?! On plastoid??

“I’m going to wring Senator Hliii’s neck, and then I’m going to twist him into a human kriffing meat-lasso to catch every last one of his little pets with”, sounds through Fox’s comm, who just hacks out a laughcough in response. “Pinging your location now. Where’s Thorn?”

“Pr’snt”, slurs Thorn.

“Concussed”, adds Fox, “We crawled out forty levels to behind 79’s, so no one would see us.”

Awkward silence follows.

“Uh, about that”, begins Rex, only to be interrupted by a deep groan from Fox.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kriffing kidding me! As if Cody’s ugly mug wasn’t - WHAT THE KRIFF ARE YOUR KRIFFING ARC KARKHEADS DOING IN MY HALLUCINATION, REX?!”

“Shuddup, Rex”, Thorn moans bravely.

[dclovesdanny]

Super Brain Dead

3/3

Danny always hoped his soulmates wouldn’t hate him. as the experiments continued, all he could do was pray and hope that his soulmates would not hate him and curse himself for getting caught by the GIW.

They were in the middle of another experiment on him when the alarms sounded. Danny was aware of agents rushing around and yelling, but he could barely focus through the pain.

The door was busted down, and he could barely make out the members of the justice league. He mostly focused on red hood, the EO signature, toxic, but real. He winced as red hood undid some of his bindings, not noticing how red hood’s eyes went wide at the side of the injuries.

Red Hood picked him up bridal style before tapping his helmet.*Guys, I think I found Red Robin and Superboy’s soulmate* was the last thing Danny heard before he slipped off into unconsciousness.

[dailydamijon]

Day forty-five of daily damijon

Batman and Superman: Battle of the Super Sons

Damian “only I can tease him” Wayne.

[chloesimaginationthings]

I know Vanessa regret saying this in the FNAF movie,,

[sunderwight]

Bingyuan modern ABO AU where Shen Yuan tutors sweet white lotus Luo Binghe and dutifully sends him off to university all prepped and ready to take the world by storm, and then three years later Omega Binghe shows up on his doorstep with a baby, all washed out with his prospects ruined and the father in the wind.

Beta Shen Yuan, furious, is determined to look after Luo Binghe and his adorable baby whilst tracking down the feckless Alpha involved and then... castrating him? Forcing him to step up? One of the two at least!

Only it turns out:

-Baby isn't actually Luo Binghe's

-Luo Binghe isn't an Omega

-Binghe also didn't wash out and in fact just came into a massive inheritance

He didn't even know Shen Yuan was living at the apartment he went to, he was bringing the baby to Shen Jiu in order to blackmail him. The baby is SJ's and Omega Yue Qingyuan's, and had been quietly sent away to avoid scandal. As the next phase of Luo Binghe's hundred-step plan to marrying Shen Laoshi, cuddling the baby in a vaguely sinister fashion while making thinly-veiled threats was vital to blocking Shen Jiu's inevitable attempts to interfere with Binghe's pursuit of his younger brother.

But then Shen Yuan opened the door and promptly drew all the wrong conclusions, and now Binghe is rethinking his entire strategy, furiously googling Alpha-to-Omega transition options and making Mobei Jun make Shang Qinghua find out how to fake a birth certificate for a stolen baby.

[kingzombear]

Lil late Golden Duo for FNAFiversary yaaaay 💛

[post-it-notes7]

I kind of feel bad for Dameta. Yea, he’s a major prick to everyone and anyone, but he also doesn’t have anyone he cares about, and there isn’t anyone who cares about him. And I think the finality of Mirspar’s deal really seals that. He’s pretty much warning Dameta will be left to the proverbial wolves without Mirspar’s, now conditional, protection.

you've got this down to a T

[imagine-darksiders]

Future chapter of On the Ropes because I definitely want to write more black-eyed, feral Monty. He's not squeezing Y/n's wrist btw, he's still holding her gently, dw

[one-time-i-dreamt]

I was in witness protection from Springtrap from FNAF and during the trial I was set to testify in, he killed the judge.