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#ethubs fanfic
aoneko-lee · 3 months
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Everyone knows that Bdubs and Joel would fight to the death for Etho
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katkat030 · 22 days
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you 🤝 me
not being normal abt the dbhc au
YEAH. LITERALLY. Define normal because I sure as heck am NOT it. My gosh is the DBHC Ethubs brainrot strong.
sooooo as promised, quotes from my DBHC Ethubs wip :D (Edit: yeah so uh. that got a bit out of hand)
I’m the most happy with these and they probably won’t change too much when it comes time to put together the “donefinalfinal2.0take3” draft as I’m prone to naming things lol
#1
There’s a fond tilt to his lips as he cards his fingers through Bdubs’ hair, the sensation of the strands slipping through his fingers and the weight of the head pillowed on his chest grounding. It feels right, just so, a surety that seeps into his bones and nestles there. With Bdubs curled up on the grass beside him, face turned outwards and the sleepy smile tugging at his expression just barely peeking out from beneath the arm thrown over his eyes, the irony isn’t lost on him.
Dbhc Etho isn’t human, as much as he’s feeling and acting like one ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ so there’s a little nugget of angst there.
for context, they’re lying in the sun - it’s set around early season 10, maybe around when Bdubs plants the forest around his area. Seeing as Etho was made for terraforming and gardening, it would only make sense for him to be helping Bdubs out with it.
Anyway. Spending a long day in the heat to dig holes, place saplings in them and cover them over again is pretty physically intensive. So Bdubs, being Bdubs, is tired and just wants to lie in the sunshine for a bit. Who’s to say Etho doesn’t join him (he does) (Bdubs ends up lying his head on Etho’s chest)
(there’s some serious angst potential here. Bdubs missed his uh, friend, when he wasn’t around before redeviating. Maybe he cries about it. Maybe Etho has some feelings about that)
#2
“Hey, you,” Bdubs murmurs, nose crinkling as his face stretches into a yawn, shifting the arm thrown over his eyes to open them for a few seconds and squint up at where Etho stands, blocking the rays of late-afternoon sunlight.
“Hey yourself, ‘Dubs,” he replies, unable to help the amusement creeping into his tone. Unregistered emotion detected, the notification flashes, which he ignores in favour of stuffing his hands into his pockets, raising an eyebrow at where Bdubs lies spread-eagled on the ground by his feet, well-worn soil stained gloves discarded and cast off to the side. “What ‘cha up to?” 
An incoherent “Mm” is all he gets in response, and it’s a conscious effort not to huff with laughter. The half-hearted glare from Bdubs proves the challenge impossible.
He could absolutely make a game of annoying Bdubs, Etho decides, mentally noting the thought and storing it to contemplate later. “I finished fixing your saplings,” is what he opts for instead, this time receiving a longer and slightly more coherent mumble he takes to mean as a thank you, and not a get your shadow away from me as it was likely intended.
“What was that?” He teases, putting a hand to his ear and leaning down slightly, blocking the sun further. “Is it past your bedtime?” 
Bdubs scowls as a breeze sweeps past, and had Etho been human he’d be completely caught off guard as the other reaches up to yank his arm. As it is he makes a show of stumbling, catching himself before using the connection to pivot and flop down besides Bdubs on the grass, greeted by Bdubs blinking blearily up at him, one eye open and the other shut against the brightness once again unobscured by Etho’s figure. 
“If you’re going to sit here, at least lie down, for goodness’ sakes,” he grumbles, but there’s no real heat behind the words. He resolutely ignores the way Bdubs’ touch lingers on his arm before falling back to his side. Unregistered emotion, the warning flashes. He ignores that, too.
formatting on mobile is incredibly time consuming but we got there in the end :’D
(This takes place earlier in the story than the first quote but shh)
anyway! I It’s far from finished and none of this is fully edited, so there’ll probably be changes in the future!
I hope you like it <333
for anyone not familiar with the au: it’s not mine, I’m simply writing a fanfic on it - go check out Shepscapades’ master post :) the art is absolutely incredible and I cannot recommend the entire thing enough
please do not repost my writing. Everyone is always welcome to reblog though ;)
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mentallyillfromdd · 7 months
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trick or treat🥔🔪
TRICK!!!!!
Bdubs didn't know what to do.
He stood at the edge of a mountain that felt so right to stay in but so wrong to stand alone. The distant memory of someone standing beside him was a strange familiarity that he lived for too long. If it disappeared, he swore, he would finally bring himself to leave. Why would he want to leave? The endless spring was just so comforting. He couldn’t see very far beyond the place he stood, the rest of the world a blur. He noted the lack of flames lapping, yet couldn’t place if that was good or not.
Why was he alone? Better question: Why can’t he leave?
He stares down at the grass below him, he can leave there’s no fence keeping him here but it just feels so wrong. Like if he left he’d only see the worst of the world. The seasons change where he keeps himself from stepping. The autumnal forest invites him with warm arms, the trees begin to part and show him a new place. Bdubs looks back at the building behind him. He’s standing on the walls of a large snow fort, it begs him to stay. His eyes search the entire place for the missing piece that he wants so badly to be found. But he can’t find it. The missing piece is gone, it- he- has been gone for a while, he won't come back. He knows.
That might be the only thing Bdubs did know.
What does he know?
Nothing, apparently. He swore he knew how the world worked, a game of life- not a survival game, but a game of who could kill who the fastest- a game of death was most definitely not the place to fall in love. But he did anyway. Against all odds, he loved the missing piece with all his heart. Bdubs stepped forward. He jumped down the snow wall away from the fort. The fallen leaves crunched under his feet as he stepped forward again.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
Bdubs didn’t feel his injuries healing. They stuck on him, his bruises purple and his scars bleeding. Maybe he is waiting for something. He wants to circle back to the safety of the fort. It’s crumbling and destroyed but it’s safe. He doesn’t though. He keeps walking. Like a man on a mission, he keeps going. He wants to run back to the fort and into the arms of the missing piece, into the arms of a promise left unfulfilled. Bdubs is blind, he swears. He reaches and reaches for something not there anymore. He reaches for a distant memory he wants to desperately return to. He longed for the days when he and Etho would pass an imaginary baton of their power dynamic between them as the other helplessly admired to return.
An image of Etho standing up straight, a habit he had found himself getting into when Bdubs pressed about how bad his posture was, flashed in Bdubs’ mind. The way he fixed himself as everything came easy enchanted Bdubs. Maybe it did. Maybe everything did come easy to him. Bdubs scoffed. It's Etho! 'Course everything comes easy to him! Well maybe except stairs. Bdubs is getting distracted. He looks back every few steps. He wants to go back. He doesn’t follow through with his heart’s wishes. He thanks his brain for keeping him moving forward.
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thatonewatercat · 1 year
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i’m posting Smell’s Like Coffee onto Ao3 now too! if you prefer to read it there. i’m gonna post roughly 2 chapters a week, and 3 chapters are already up. its a college au with Etho and Bdubs, rivals to lovers, coffee shop au, that was originally a 10k dare but has grown into so much more and yeah! check it out if that sounds cool to you!
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silentvoidtreeshop · 11 months
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so so thrilled to share my contribution to the MCYT AU summer fic fest!! i was paired with the wonderful @shortkidenergy and got to illustrate their amazing fic, Possession is Nine-Tenths ! its really good and i highly recommend you go read it, especially if you like ethubs and ethotek!!!!
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lugwen · 1 year
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them.
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nhothicket · 19 days
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ON MY KNEE IM IN LOVE WITH YOUR BAND AU ON MY KNEES BEGGING FOR ANYTHING ELSE YOU HAVE TO SPARE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A FANFIC, FANART, JUST A SIMPLE LIKE ANYTHING TEXT POST SOBBING AND WEEPING AT YOUR FEET!!!!!!!!
I decided to do both some art and a fic because you asked so nicely!! Thank you for the nice ask, I hope this is what you were looking for ^v^
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I couldn't come up with a good title for this fic whoops.
Words - 1.4k
No warnings, they're gay and they act gay
Summary - Etho finds himself dragged away from the safety of his tour bus and into the den of very scary and very cool rockstar, Bdoubleo.
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"Wash up on your six." Pause lightly elbowed Etho with a snicker. "Comin' right for ya."
"Hurry up then." Etho tried to push his bandmates into the bus, but the chase was over before it began.
"Etho!" The threat approached.
"Beef, move-"
"Sorry man, you're on your own." Beef climbed on and turned to give him an entirely unapologetic smile. "You guys have fun now."
"Hey-" The bus door shut right in his face. "Beef! Pause! Hey!"
"Ethooo!" Two arms slung around his neck from behind, awkwardly pulling him down and backward. Etho gagged and turned around. Face to face with the tiny menace of the festival grounds. "Long time no see!"
"Hey, Bdoubleo."
"So formal, you're no fun, sweetheart." Bdubs puffed his cheeks out. "It's been like a y- like whole year, c'mon, loosen up!"
"It's been a few months and I'm busy."
"No you ain't. I saw your buddies ditch ya." Bdubs offered up all the charm he could muster. "Wanna hang out in my van?"
"Not creepy at all." Etho's protest was weak willed. He leaned down and ruffled Bdubs' hair without even thinking about it, it came as a second nature at this point. "Yeah, sure."
"You just can't deny me. I'm irresistible!"
"Uh-huh."
"Your sarcasm is no use!" Bdubs dragged Etho across the lot to his shabby old van. Etho would judge, but if it weren't for Beef and Pause, he'd be touring out of the back of his ancient pickup. Bdubs threw the back doors open and hopped inside. "Didya see my set this morning? I know it was a bit early for someone like you."
"Of course I did." Etho gracefully ignored the last comment. Perched on the edge of the trunk, Bdubs' enthusiasm was contagious, his prideful smile was so genuine it made Etho smile a bit under his mask in a shallow imitation. "Loud as always."
"You know it!" The back of Bdubs' van was surprisingly clean. Two seats sat on each side and a mini fridge was pressed into the back corner. A soft mat was rolled up opposite to it, presumably Bdubs' bed. Bdubs got up to flop onto a seat and pat the spot next to him. "Beer?"
"Uhh..." As soon as Etho sat down an arm settled around his shoulders. "Yeah, sure. Why not?"
"That's what I like to hear." Bdubs opened up his little fridge and tossed Etho a can. He refused to remove his arm from Etho's shoulders and instead used his teeth to crack his own can open, kicking the fridge shut. "Off with the mask! I'm not some fanboy, I'm the real deal! Itsh been so long, I've missed seeing your dopey face."
"Bold words coming from the goofiest solo act I've ever seen."
"I am not goofy! I'm hard!"
"Oh?" Etho pulled his mask down just to show Bdubs his smug smirk.
"Don't- don't give me that! You know what I mean!" Bdubs growled. "I'm a rockstar!"
"You were like decades ago."
"And still going strong!" Bdubs took an obnoxious gulp from his beer. "You are awfully mouthy for a man who plays a freakin' keytar, what decade is it for you?"
"You'd know, old man."
"I am not- Okay, old lady! Fresh outta the 1600s!"
"Boomer."
"That's my name! Don't wear it out, Ethel!"
They glared at eachother for a moment, locked in a silent staring contest. Bdubs and his obnoxious doe eyes were forever unbeatable though, and Etho was forced to blink. A very ungraceful winner cheered and crushed a can to further punctuate his manly dominance.
"I'm never forgiving Pause for telling you."
"Aww, but its so cute." Bdubs pinched Etho's cheek. "What, your parents wanted a girl or something?"
"Sure, something like that." Etho sipped from his beer, sliding a bit down the seat so Bdubs could more comfortably pull his charm. As small as Bdubs was, it was always comical watching him stretch to take up the more dominant flirting positions. Etho knew he'd sit there with his arm up around his shoulders until it went numb if that's what it took.
"You haven't told me you missed me yet."
"I forgot I even knew you."
"Ouch! Rude." Bdubs leaned closer and winked. "I think about you all the time."
"Yeah, because you're the most jealous person I know."
"Guilty as charged!" Bdubs chirped. He easily slid right back into joking when his attempt at flirting was met with more banter; Etho wasn't sure he'd be able to recover that quickly himself.
"Plotting my downfall, huh?"
"I'll get you some day."
"I'm rooting for you."
"Thank you, sweetheart! You're always on my side." Bdubs tapped his can to Etho's. "To ruining your career."
"To ruining my career."
The pair fell into a lull, Bdubs kept chatting, but it was mostly white noise. Bdubs talked just to talk and Etho listened just to listen. It was only a few beers later and the lull transitioned into a comfortable buzz. Bdubs got a bright idea. He reached over the seats in the middle of the van, clumsily pulling over his decorated acoustic guitar.
"Any requests, Easy?"
"Anything but one of your own." Etho absent-mindedly dropped his arm around Bdubs' shoulders, reestablishing the connection that had been broken when the shorter man went to get his instrument.
"You are so mean to me." Bdubs puffed his cheeks out as he thought. "We should do some music together sometime."
"You'd be eaten alive." Etho considered the reputation Bdubs had. "I can see it already— you fighting with all the people online."
"It'd be worth it." Bdubs played a few random chords. "We could do a love duet."
"With Pause? I'm not a vocalist, Bdubs."
"You didn't deny being in love with me."
"I wouldn't have to love you to sing a song with you."
"I'd write it about us, baby."
"Uh-huh." A brief silence started to build, but Bdubs quickly broke the tension with a snicker, Etho followed suit. "You're an idiot."
"C'mon! You got a good voice. We could do an epic rock ballad."
"I'm good."
"Your loss!" Bdubs turned back to his guitar, but Etho could see the mischief brewing on his face. "You still like Paramore?"
"Don't play it."
"I learned a song just for you!"
"Don't play it, Bdubs." He already knew what the sappy romantic had in mind.
"You are so unappreciative. I go out of my way to learn a nice song from the 'music' you like." Bdubs threw up air quotes and Etho just rolled his eyes. How a man who'd sold his soul to the system could stand to be so critical of what counted as music was beyond him.
"Give me your guitar."
"No!" Bdubs got two chords out before Etho pulled it from his hands. "Hey! Hey! Give it here!"
"I'm not letting you try to serenade me with a song you heard on the radio."
"You know it would work! C'monnn!"
"Absolutely not." Etho held the guitar away from Bdubs, but regrettably, he couldn't hide his smile when his mask was around his neck.
"You come into my house! Sit on my bed! And dare disrespect me like this?"
"We are in the back of a van, Bdoubleo."
"My home away from home!" Etho leaned across the trunk and dropped the guitar onto the other seat. Bdubs immediately tried to lunge for it, but Etho caught him in a bear hug before he could even stand up. In fact, being hugged instantly stopped Bdubs in his tracks. "Woah, hey- guess I didn't need to serenade you at all!"
"Sure." Etho pulled away so he could see Bdubs' face. Alcohol warmed cheeks, dark eyes, and a stupid smirk.
"Like what you see?"
"Maybe."
"Shomehow, you manage to dry text when you talk." Bdubs rolled his eyes. He leaned up and kissed Etho, his patience worn thin in his buzz. Etho pulled him closer. "I missed you."
"Me too." Etho finally admitted. They sat with their foreheads pressed together.
"You could afford to text back more often, I know you ain't that freakin' famous."
"Isn't the anticipation more fun?"
"Don't play coy! I know you're just lazy."
"Guilty." Bdubs pressed a flurry of kisses to Etho's jaw.
"You're lucky I even allow you in my pre- in my presence, I don't usually kiss fans."
"It's a good thing I don't care much for sellouts then."
"Kiss my ass."
"Ohh, the bad boy said a curse word."
"Get out of my van, I'm sick of your stupid face already." Bdubs grumbled. Yet, his arms stayed locked around Etho's waist. Etho made no attempt to change that.
"Gonna be at our set tomorrow? It's past your bedtime."
"You're worth stayin' up for." Bdubs cooed. "Better dedicate a song to me."
"We'll play twinkle twinkle little star for you."
"On your nerdy little fake guitar?"
"On my nerdy little fake guitar."
"Adorable."
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tunastime · 2 months
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A Gear of the Heart, Starting
just a little something I wrote for somebody's (@shepscapades) birthday back in November :3 after I asked what etho and bdubs would've been like shortly after etho's deviation. this is the few times before last life where bdubs realizes etho might be a good friend, and how their relationship changes. comes right before A Gear of the Heart, Turning! (4653 words)
Etho remembers quite a bit.
He remembers the ricochet of the explosion through his left side. He remembers a dozen errors across his vision, showing every unit damaged by the blast, the fractals of fracturing snaking up his arm, the shattered remains of his central programming lingering like a livewire. 
Over and over he can remember the pitch of Bdubs’ voice and had to wonder his own diagnosis at that moment. Bdubs watching his android die in his name—he remembers that, too. Bdubs didn’t even ask for that. It was something Etho gave to him. He’s not sure he could even say why, either. 
It remained a bitter flavor he couldn't identify, even as Xisuma assured him he was okay. Something had happened then, sitting on that floor, thirium in hand. Some movement in his chest he couldn’t place. It wasn’t anything physical, but it felt like some gear of his nonexistent heart had started, turned—rotated. And all he could do was ask himself why. What’s he supposed to do with that?
He doesn’t know. Fine. 
Etho goes back to work at someone’s request. Not even his own request, either, so he has to wonder if maybe Doc put him up to it. Him being Bdubs. Him being Bdubs who shifted back and forth on his feet at Etho’s door—a facade of a base in the process of being designed. If one could even call it a base, yet.
And even though he was increasingly certain that Bdubs had been told to ask—and Etho asked him if he’d been asked to help, and he was adamant about asking by himself, that’s what he said. He said: “You think I gotta be told to ask people for help? I can’t just be doin’ things on my own?” and it had felt so much like doublespeak that Etho didn’t even fight to differentiate his tone. 
But Bdubs had asked if he wanted to help with the horse course. Terraforming—it should be right up his alley, if he’s still into that kind of stuff. Figured he was the expert—or so it goes. Etho had nodded. He wasn’t sure what else he was supposed to do. He supposes he could have easily said no. 
But every part of him yearned to say yes.
So he did.
The dust sifts through his fingers.
Etho perches in the grass, partially hunched as he leans over his line of redstone, shrouded by the hill half-built around him. He’d spent most of the week prior carving out the lines of the track, setting posts for buildings, laying out blueprints for Bdubs to finalize. Today, he lays his line meticulously, dust shifting in his hands. They still shake a bit—nothing a human would notice, nothing that disrupted the flow of his lines, but the overworked gears still shifted in protest as he worked. He could see the faded overlay of the project in his vision if he focused. It crackled, slightly blue-yellow, orange glowing indicators where action was needed, where there were mistakes to be corrected.
It isn’t his redstone to fix. The lines under his hands were—freshly laid by his near-expert technique—but the deeper lines, noteblock announcements, droppers, doorgates, the flourish of the house course, weren’t. Etho smooths out the line he was standing near with his thumb. 
There was nothing wrong with the laid redstone, really. It’s just. Well. It’s not even. It takes up so much space. It lacks the efficiency and tidiness he practiced to a precision. It radiated Bdubs in an overpowering way, one that might turn a gear of the heart—one he didn’t have, of course. Etho’s lines are neat, rigid, conforming to his perfect mental map. 
He lets down his section of dust, drifting over to the dispenser system. He pushes a line further into place, brushing dust back from the side. Further on, where the line crosses, he readjusts it, he smooths them from start to end of line. His hands work where his mind recalculates, looking for errors along the redstone already laid out by Bdubs. Programs bubble up to assist; he dismisses a message, and another as he works. The line straightens from source to sink. 
As he passes, searching for another correction, he hears someone above him. In the corner of his vision, another message notification pings: from Bdubs.
They’re all from Bdubs, actually, now that he notices in full. He blinks, mouth twisting into a frown. Whoops.
He hears someone—Bdubs, he realizes, as he notes the fall of his feet, and the sigh he hops down from his horse, the shuffle of said horse, hooves on grass—clear their throat. Bdubs shuffles around as Etho moves back over to his finished redstone, dusting his hands on the sides of his pants. He lifts the small bag of dust, twisting the tie shut around his fingers as he travels back up the line to recheck the connections. 
“Etho?” Bdubs calls. Etho straightens, just on instinct alone, glancing up at the stretch of sky he can see. It’s bright blue, barely dotted with clouds, and the grass looks warm with sun. He fixes where the dust starts as he sections off the end, tossing the rest of the redstone over to his sling bag.
“Under the hill!”
Bdubs leans over the edge, tilting his head at Etho as he peers into the dark. It takes him a moment to find Etho’s face, partially obscured by black fabric and the fluff of wool around his collar. Etho tilts his head, raising his eyebrows.
“Did you need something?” he asks, arm hanging loosely by his side. Bdubs frowns, too, watching Etho’s expression. As his eyes seem to adjust to the dark, his gaze falls on the lines of redstone. He pauses there for a long moment. In that moment, Etho feels something in his chest grind, almost to a noticeable ache. If he could pull in a breath to settle it, he might have, but the sensation and minute sound passes as soon as he moves his hand to press flat against his regulator. Bdubs is gone when he looks up, reappearing only as he drops into the cavern, catching himself on the wall. He readjusts his cloak around his shoulders, shuffling into the low-light.
“Etho,” he says, still frowning. Etho looks him over. He watches Bdubs set his hands on his hips, but his heart rate stays even and his temperature level. The only thing that changes is the tone of his voice, fluctuating with a pattern Etho recognizes as forcing something. Bdubs takes a long breath in and lets it out. Etho’s eyes find the twitch of his fingers as he folds his arms, rather than the sharp curve of his mouth.
“Yes?” Etho asks. He feels his pump work a little harder. It kind of hurts still, whatever’s stopped working in his chest. He flicks his eyes, recalling a diagnostic, setting it to run in the background as he closes out of the overlays and the world returns to yellowish-grey. Bdubs is still frowning.
“You mind tellin’ me what’s wrong with this redstone?”
Etho blinks. The diagnostic comes up clear.
“What do you mean?” he says, his expression shifting into something copying amusement. He’s trying. He’s at least trying to mimic the emotions he sees. Soon enough it’ll feel natural, he’s certain. “What’s wrong with it?”
Bdubs snorts, which turns into a laugh, which turns into Etho smiling a bit wider, a bit more confusion lingering in his expression as he leans around Bdubs to check his meticulously placed line. Bdubs turns away from him, facing the system, the clock that linked the start gates to the timer below.
“What’s—” Bdubs scoffs, shaking his head. “What’s wrong with it? Etho—” he holds out his hand, waving Etho over. Etho lingers at his shoulder as he steps forward, peering over the curve of it and the moss and small leaves and flowers draped over his neck. “It’s too perfect.”
Etho makes a sound like a scoff now, a caught sound in his vocal unit, a stuttering start to his sentence that doesn’t form right away. He’s trying for surprise, the pitch of his voice rising unexpectedly.
“It’s too perfect?” he asks. 
Bdubs nods. After a moment, Etho thinks he sees his expression shift, the high of his cheek rising. When Bdubs turns his head to look at him, just for a second, Bdubs is smiling.
“Bdubs,” Etho says, sighing, turning away from him, to his bag on the far side of the room. He shakes his head. That something-nothing in his chest flutters and fades and disappears all at once, instead replaced with the urge to smile back. Bdubs laughs, and Etho can imagine him tipping his head back, mouth curved up as he giggles to himself. Etho shakes his head. As he starts to pull away from Bdubs, he feels him catch his sleeve, holding fast to his elbow.
“Etho, wait—” Bdubs giggles. “It looks really good.”
Etho raises his eyebrows. Caught in Bdubs grasp, all he can do is look at him, head tilted, trying not to let the amusement show on his face. Bdubs giggles, face breaking again as he does.
“Etho…” he tries again, fighting back a smile. Etho tilts his head the other way, as if to prompt him further, looking for anything. He stays silent. Bdubs hand lowers slowly, that smile faltering just a fraction. Maybe he thinks Etho’s upset with him. There’s a flicker of recognition in his eyes. “You gonna say anythin’? Or you just gonna stand there?”
Etho smiles, finally. He shrugs a little, glancing over at the fixed lines of redstone.
“I fixed your redstone,” he says cooly, sticking his free hand in his pocket. Bdubs blinks. He jerks away as Etho’s smile grows, shoving him hard in his shoulder. Etho wobbles for a moment, smiling to himself, scrunching up his face as Bdubs’ expression morphs. He does laugh, after a beat, poking Etho in the shoulder as he does. Etho hopes he can see the smile in his eyes. He saves, logs, keeps this moment. He’s sure in the low light that his LED spins yellow for a moment. It feels right. If there’s any feeling to catalog.
Bdubs huffs. Etho thinks he hears him say something under his breath. It sounds a lot like thank you.
It’s out of habit, rather than obligation, that Etho finds himself back at the horse course. Of course he ends up here, his feet moving him about as if his brain-not-brain had no thoughts of its own. Man. Some days, it really felt human.
He wanders across the plain, eyes lingering on fully-built buildings, knowing the schematics and plans, watching as those plans-now-buildings stretched higher above his head, where they nearly threatened to pop the sky wide open. 
Bdubs had sat down with him earlier that week, papers spread out between them. He’d stopped by, actually—worked his way up the mountain to the base Etho had finally finished, papers in hand, looking like he was on the verge of collapse. He’d dropped the blueprints on the largest table Etho had managed to clear, spreading out the designs for huge, complex buildings. Etho watched him explain, listened for the inflection of when to offer suggestions, heard the way Bdubs’ voice grew quieter, almost conspiratorial, as he explained his palette. There was something methodical in the way Bdubs spoke, not only in the approach to his colors, but to his style. As much as it seemed eclectic and strange, he watched the pieces fall together as Bdubs spoke of his gradients. There was something deeper there, a precision that Etho, all of a sudden, in that room, craved to emulate. To write to disk. To save. To do more than just copy. 
He’d built the horse stable first—all to his own specifications. It was Bdubs later who came in to detail, tilling up the dirt around to plant grass and flowers, sectioning off parts of the empty stable. It was almost difficult to compartmentalize that Bdubs was finished with it now. That they’d worked each line of the redstone and Etho had supervised the first steps of building, and now he could look up and see the very top, or almost, if he were to strain, of the spikes above the buildings. 
And in just a few weeks, Bdubs was onto another project. Etho smiles to himself. He can’t help it. There was something rather comforting about that. Something about Bdubs dragging him along to help, pointing him toward the thing he was good at, and asking for help. Bdubs showing up at his door with plans. Bdubs cracking jokes with him, and looking for a laugh Etho couldn’t replicate yet. It’s like something clicked. Or was just on the breach of it. And Etho liked it.
Etho clears his field of view, taking in, instead, the stretch of sky where it met the ocean, along the line of hills and grass and flowers, and further still, to the smudge that looked like Bdubs. He blends in too well—the green of his coat barely noticeable against the field of grass that splayed out from the side of his build. There were still materials strewn about—chests half opened, shulkers stacked waist high. 
Bdubs stands to the side of a dark grey and white horse, one hand placed on its nose, the other digging through his bag. Etho watches for a moment. Bdubs fishes around for that entire second that he lingers, searching for something, until he pulls out an apple. Another falls to the ground, rolling away from him. He holds out the fruit for the horse as Etho clears his throat. 
“Hiya, Bdubs—” he says as Bdubs startles, twisting around to see him. He huffs, an immediate frown coming to his face. Bdubs turns to fetch the dropped apple, holding it high above his head as the grey horse nudges its nose into his empty hand. He pats it instead.
“Etho,” he says, tone thin. He sighs, shaking his head. “Scared the life outta me, you know that? You gotta make some noise when you’re walkin’ around.”
Etho smiles, a nice and easy reaction to the annoyance in Bdubs’ voice. It’s getting easier. At least a bit. The smiling part, that is. The inflection that comes with being happy.
“I’ll try next time,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. His hands find his pockets as he looks around, eyes following the path around the buildings. He’s sure the pollen and moss will be stuck to his clothes for days before he gets them out.
“Mm,” Bdubs hums, unconvinced. “I’m sure you will. Now, what’re you doin’ here? You don’t have anything better to do?”
“That’s a good question,” Etho says.
Bdubs turns back to him for a second, just a glance over his shoulder as he cocks his head to the side. He raises his eyebrows before he turns back to the horse, who’s started to nose at his bag. He drags his hand down its nose.
“You’re tellin’ me you don’t have an objective right now?”
“I never have an objective, Bdubs.”
Bdubs snorts again . Etho steps over, slow, minding the horse. It sniffs as Etho holds out his hand, nosing his gloved palm. He pats the horse's nose, somewhat stilted, smoothing over the soft bridge of his nose.
“Right,” Bdubs hums. When Etho glances over to him, Bdubs glances away, as if he’d lingered as Etho stepped over. He’s not moved from Etho’s side, which. Makes something fit into Etho’s chest in a way he isn’t expecting. He rests his hand on the horse's head, looking over at Bdubs in full.
“I can’t come see how the horse course is looking, now that you’re done?” he asks. Bdubs makes an embarrassed sounding noise, watching the rise of the buildings to their left. The horse sniffs, and Etho lifts his hand away, letting it fall to his side.
“I—I got excited about it,” Bdubs mutters. If Etho leans enough, he can see the beginnings of a flush creep over his cheeks, up the shell of his ear. Something about that, too. Etho looks beyond him, though, studying the rise of the buildings as Bdubs does. He nods to himself.
“I can tell,” he says, amusement slipping into his voice, almost naturally. Immediately, Bdubs whips around again, face twisted in offense.
“Hey!” he snaps. “You makin’ fun of me?”
Etho shakes his head, spreading his hands out in front of him as he does.
“No, no. Not at all,” he says, hoping the smile he’s giving is reaching his eyes. “I’m saying we make a pretty good team.”
Bdubs makes a little huff of a sound, but his posture and expression softens. Etho studies it from the moment it appears, trying to place the emotion behind it. He seems upset—but not from anything Etho said. He almost looks guilty.
“We’ve always made a good team,” Bdubs mumbles. Etho blinks.
“Since when have we been a team?”
“Since—s…” Bdubs blurts, then backtracks, folding his arms over his chest. “Well we’re a team now!”
Etho raises his eyebrows, stepping away from the horse and more around Bdubs’ side. He leans in a bit as he stands by his side, bumping their shoulders together. Bdubs doesn’t recoil. Instead, he pushes back, just for a moment, and they jostle. Bdubs hums, sighing through his nose.
“Are we?” Etho asks. Bdubs nods, short and firm.
“Mhm! ‘Cause I said so.”
Etho nods with him. There’s that thing again, a turning, jostling, in some part of his chest that really shouldn’t turn or jostle. He can feel his temperature tick up just a few degrees, a fan kicking on to settle the temperature, thirium sludging warm to cold through his limbs. A team, huh? He couldn’t beat Bdubs’ conviction, that’s for sure. Maybe it was a bit of guilt, then. Maybe something in Bdubs had realized Etho was much more of a help than a hindrance. Maybe Bdubs wanted a friend. Maybe he just felt bad and the feeling bad got to a point where he had to just do something about it. Etho didn’t know. He didn’t live inside Bdubs’ brain. And picking at Bdubs’ every emotion was a task enough to drive his processor into the ground. He could already feel another spike in temperature, LED glowing yellow-blue. Maybe it wasn’t all bad. Etho sticks his hands in his pockets.
“I’d like that,” he says, finally pushing out the words as his programming jumps into gear, “What’s our next project then?”
Bdubs goes back to jostling him before he turns away, moving from Etho’s side to collect his horse. Gathering the horse's reins in his hands, Bdubs pauses.
“Ooh…” he says, frowning a little. Etho watches the little furrow of his eyebrows—thinking. Bdubs is turning the idea over in his head. Bdubs steps back over with the horse in tow, already walking in the direction of the horse stable. Etho jolts forward, taking several big steps to match Bdubs’ pace. “Well why don’t you come back to the clock and we can talk about it, huh?”
“That sounds nice.”
Bdubs makes an affirmative sound, leading the horse around and into the stable. Etho watches him unlatch the gate, ushering the horse into the pen.
“I can put the kettle on and everything,” Bdubs says. He lifts the bridle out of the horse’s mouth, running his hand along the length of the horse’s nose. Etho doesn’t mean to watch him as he does, but the action is so purposeful. There’s a moment where Bdubs’ expression is unreadable—unreadable as in Etho simply can’t place anything on it. Unreadable in the amount it changes—something softer than he’s seen, something far away. Bdubs’ whole demeanor seems to shift as he stands still for a moment. Etho isn’t sure what to do with himself. He’s just standing in straw and dirt and stones, all of which he can feel under his shoes. He shuffles a bit, back and forth, to make his presence known, before he says:
“You know I can’t drink anything, Bdubs.”
And Bdubs rolls his eyes, squinting over at him, stepping away from the horse to hop the gate.
“Well you can at least fake it,” he grumbles. He folds his arms again, wrinkling his nose at Bdubs as Bdubs leads him out of the pen and into the open field around the horse course. The shadow of the buildings above them hasn’t changed, yet. The sun is still high and warm in the sky.
Etho laughs. At least, he makes a sound that he thinks passes as a laugh. Bdubs laughs too, though, so it must sound pretty convincing. He nods, the smile on his face feeling much more natural than he ever could have expected. 
“I could fake it,” he laughs. “Sure.”
Bdubs grins at him. It’s nice. It makes the walk back to his base a little more bearable.
By the time Etho gets his invitation to the life game, he’s grown accustomed to being at Bdubs’ side again. He wanders around Bdubs’ base like he knows it, makes it a spot he chooses to map, to memorize. Bdubs checks in on him when he isn’t around as much—asks him how his builds are going, wonders if he needs help. Bdubs lingers in his spaces too, like a plant trying to root, gives himself reasons to stand in doorways just a bit longer, just enough to extend their goodbyes. It feels right—in a way that almost gives reason to Etho’s deviation. Maybe, deep down, from their first introduction, Etho had decided to glue himself to Bdubs’ side and not become unstuck. Maybe he’d simply put that decision, his first ever decision, into motion that day. It didn’t matter much as to why anymore.
When Etho gets his letter, he doesn’t open it. He holds it between two fingers, turning it over and over. He doesn’t need to read it to know what it says. There’s a dark red seal on the back, shaped like a heart. He makes a little sound, some sort of click in the back of his mouth, before he stuffs the letter in his pocket, half-folded.
He finds Bdubs exactly where he expects. Bdubs is sitting cross-legged in his garden, hands in the dirt, when Etho arrives at the crescent moon base. If he looks closely enough, Etho can still tell that Bdubs’ own letter sits on his window sill in the kitchen, unopened. But he’s really squinting to notice, so he writes it off for now as a flaw in his own sight. 
Bdubs turns to him as he walks up. His hair is pushed back away from his face with his bandana, and his hands are covered in dirt, and he’s got a streak of black soil across his forehead that Etho tries not to look at for too long. Bdubs shoots him a toothy grin, going back to his bright orange tulips. If Etho looks long enough, he could probably guess the soil mixture, and tell him if it's good enough to be planting orange tulips in, but he doesn’t. Instead, he comes to stand behind him and Bdubs hums in greeting.
“Etho,” he says, looking up again, wiping the dirt from his forehead. “What can I do for you?”
“Oh, nothin’,” Etho says, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He forgets who he picked the gesture up from, but it’s become part of his natural body language patterns now, so he won’t be stopping it anytime soon. “I just came to see how you were doing.”
“How I was doin’, huh?” Bdubs asks, amusement trickling into his voice. Etho smiles, feeling his face pull.
“Mhm,” he says. “That’s right. I can’t come and check up on a friend?”
Bdubs laughs, sticking his spade in the dirt.
“Oh, we’re friends now?” he says, still giggling as he turns around. “I thought we were just a team.”
Etho watches him lean back on his hands, legs coming out from under him. He tries to read Bdubs’ expression and voice for any note of insincerity, or play, or teasing, but doesn’t find anything he normally associates with Bdubs. This just feels true.
“I mean, I figured with how much we’ve been working together…” Etho starts, to which Bdubs startles, waving his hands.
“No, no!” Bdubs yelps. “Etho, I thought the same thing! I just wasn’t expectin’ it from you.”
Etho blinks. It feels owlish, small, almost a wrong reaction to hearing Bdubs say something like that. But it’s what immediately happens, before he tries to open his mouth, and no sound comes out. He waits for a moment. He assumes his LED spins, maybe even red, as Bdubs watches him, face paling.
“Oh,” Etho says quietly.
“We’re friends,” Bdubs says, voice much smaller than Etho’s ever heard it. “‘S that alright with you?”
Etho feels like the proper response would be to laugh, if he could really feel anything at all besides every gear in his chest halting and restarting themselves. He makes a noise that sounds almost like a cough.
“Mhm,” he says. He watches Bdubs’ shoulders relax and finds that his own posture sinks with it. 
“Good,” Bdubs says, nodding along. “Was there anything else you wanted to scare me with?”
Etho knows this tone—playful. Teasing. He works up a smile and fishes the letter from his pocket, slightly bent. Bdubs’ eyes flick right to it, right to the red seal pressed into the paper. Immediately, he scrambles up, reaching for the note in Etho’s hands. Etho lets him grab it in his dirt-covered fingers, even as Bdubs tries frantically to dust off his hands as he notices. Bdubs turns it over itself, glancing up at Etho.
“It’s for you?”
Etho nods.
“It was on my doorstep this morning,” he says. “I can see you’ve got one in your window?”
Bdubs snorts, shaking his head.
“Yeah, I haven’t opened the damn thing. I’m excited up until the point I’m not, ‘cause I know I’m gonna lose again.”
Etho hums. As Bdubs hands him back the letter, Etho rests his hand on his shoulder, giving it a hesitant, light squeeze. Bdubs looks quickly down at it, before he’s back to staring at Etho’s face.
“Don’t worry, Bdubs,” he says, hoping his voice is full of amusement and affection like he feels like it is. “You’ll have me there this time!”
And Bdubs laughs, full and warm in his chest, and Etho jostles him around as he does, until Bdubs is smacking his shoulder and wiggling free. He picks up his fallen hat and his tools, and Etho follows him around the side of the house as he puts things away. As he shuts one of the chest, Bdubs says:
“You mean that, though? You wanna be on a team?”
Etho smiles, feeling his eyes squint, forces every ounce of new feeling into his words when he says:
“I don’t think I wanna team with anyone else, Bdubs.”
And Bdubs’ grin in excitement is more than enough to convince him he’s made the right choice.
It’ll be a long two weeks until the death game starts. When he returns home later that night, Bdubs’ plans for success turning over in his brain, recording for later, Etho reads over the letter enough to commit the page to memory. He keeps it safe internally as the letter finds its way to his bookshelf, half-sealed. Through him, like it’s just under the skin, runs an emotion he’s not yet familiar with. He hopes it's a good one, at the very least. He hopes so, as much as an android, a machine, someone just now familiar with the idea of free will, can hope. 
It feels good, though. And something makes him think that everything will turn out just fine.
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aoneko-lee · 6 months
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By chance, has anyone ever written a Double Life fanfic in which Etho and Bdubs are soulmates? (fluff, denial/realization of feelings, hurt/comfort, angst with HEA, cute, and all these things included in ethubs)
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katkat030 · 1 month
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Ooooh what the thing you're writing abt?
You are SO kind and thank you for asking!
I threw those tags out there fully expecting no one to actually poke me about it and I'm really happy you did :)
Mutuals who know me from elsewhere,,, I already put a summary of this under the story time thread so I guess I have no excuses for not making this public
I'm writing a fic based of the DBHC au (Detroit Become Hermitcraft) comics by Shepscapades (if you're not familiar with it, I highly recommend you check out their blog!! I have SUCH brainrot and the storyline and art are so compelling)
DBHC is a Hermitcraft narrative of sorts that makes use of the android mechanics from the video game Detroit Become Human
here (1), here (2) and here (3) is sort of where it all starts (but I highly recommend looking through the DBHC au tag on their profile <- that link's in reverse chronological order btw so you don't have to scroll down first)
Basically, Xisuma designs androids (like Mumbo, Etho, Impulse and Doc) to assign to some of the hermits (Grian, Bdubs, Pearl and Ren to name a few) at some point around season 8 or maybe earlier, and they help with things like building, terraforming and probably resource gathering.
And at first they're androids, like "command me to do this and I will", but then they deviate, sometimes through a traumatic event or just by nature for whatever reason, and become more human, sentient in a way. And after Etho deviates, him and Bdubs start to become very close friends, with feelings attached, but the gist I get is that Etho doesn't entirely know what he's experiencing, and I think Bdubs is... probably in denial.
anyway, I could go on for hours about this but that's the basis of Shepscapade's DBHC au.
I'm writing an incredibly fluffy (and fighting the urge to write angst. but I may include a pinch, we'll see) oneshot about the two of them. Current plans is that they've been planting saplings (Etho was originally designed to help with terraforming and that, after all) and it's late afternoon, so Bdubs being Bdubs is very, very tired.
And tired people are clingy, they let their guard down a bit, they start giving in slightly to things they don't have enough energy to fight.
Like the urge to reach out and go hey, come back, I actually want you to play with my hair, I want you to lie with me in the sunshine, I want to listen to the sound of your android heart (thirium pump) because it's a reassurance that even though my eyes are closed you're still nearby, I want you here, and I'm going to hang on to you because I don't ever want you to leave again.
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mentalisill · 3 months
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Ethubs but they make flower crowns and have tea and be silly and and and and
You are so real actually!!!!!!!!!!!
“It's all patterns.” Etho likes patterns, he finds patterns in everything he does. Whether it's how redstone works, or the patterns he finds in how his friends do things, or in making flower crowns over tea.
Bdubs is next to him, struggling with the chain of daisies in his lap. Etho has been slipping flowers into his hair instead of weaving them together to make a crown of his own.
Etho finds the patterns in Bdubs. He sticks his tongue out of the corner of his mouth when he's really focused, he grumbles when he isn't amazing at something immediately, he glances at Etho every once in a while “You don't even have yours made, yet!”
“I'm giving you a head start.” Etho reaches up to unhook his mask, smiling at Bdubs as he takes a sip of his tea.
“Yeah right, maybe you just are waiting for the flower-crown-making master to show you how it's done!”
“Sure, Bubs.” Etho chuckles, continuing his own daisy crown. He even gets a little fancy and sticks some other flowers around them into his (now finished, whereas Bdubs isn't even halfway done with his—He's getting there, Etho can tell with the “Ah-hah!” Bdubs exclaims when he holds up the thick chain in his hands) flower crown.
Daisies with forget-me-nots mixed in as accents.
Etho can't put it on Bdubs' head, he's already made sure the smaller man's head was decorated with flowers, so he sits the crown in his lap and watches Bdubs.
He's getting it. His fingers are still clumsy, yet they move swiftly along, and, eventually, he has a long chain of daisies he struggles to connect.
Eventually, he does manage to connect the ends and slips it over Etho's head. It's a little too big and it slips off his head and onto his shoulders.
“Ah-hah! See I meant to do that! It's a— It's a necklace!” Bdubs notices a flower fall from his head, causing him to shake his head and grumble at Etho, “Oh…You…”
Etho watches as a few flowers find themselves sticking in his hair, so Etho reaches forward and picks the rest of them out one by one, “I didn't do anything.” He grins down at Bdubs.
It's outside of their usual pattern to go on a sweet kind of date like this, but whatever.
It's nice. They should do this more.
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braxiatel · 4 months
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Chapters: 1/1 Relationships: Rendog/GoodTimesWithScar, Minor or Background Relationship(s) Additional Tags: Soulmates, Royalty, Line of Succession, Politics, Political Drama, Soulmate marks,  Minor Injuries,
After nearly two decades in power, Queen Lizzie wants to retire to spend more time with her newly discovered soulmate, Joel. It is only right that her loyal knight and closest advisor, General Ren, would be named as her successor seeing as she has no children to pass it to.
Trouble arises when Lizzie's estranged sister Cleo puts forth her son, Scar, as a direct descendant of the royal line.
One has the claim of blood, another the approval of the current monarch, but which of the two men will triumph in the end?
-
My fic for the Vault’s secret santa has been revealed! This was written for the amazing @sparksnevadas. 
Make sure to check out the other fics in the collection as well, everyone involved is a great writer and/or artist in their own right! (Love you all very much friends <3)
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imalazypandaaa · 7 months
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Starting Chapter 7 of my superhero Au (Born Ready) and I opened the doc to the biggest word count jumpscare of all time-
(Sneak peak at part of the new chapter as well 👀)
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24324 words?! I've never written that much in my life! Jesus!
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violet-fire-cat · 4 months
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Hello everyone! For the final time, I bring you a Spring Blossoms chapter! That's right, this is the very last chapter of this fic. I can't believe we're already here, it's kinda bittersweet, it's exciting that it's all posted, but sad that it's over.
Regardless, thank you everyone who's been reading this story, liking and reblogging it here, and leaving comments and kudos on AO3, I love you guys! <3
Today's chapter is an epilouge of sorts, Etho's a busy boy and his work doesn't end just 'cos he got a boyfriend ~
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solariized · 4 months
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hi, i wrote a little ethubs fic based off of this post :)
you can read it here, under this little section or on ao3 !!
Bdubs wakes up well into the afternoon. Not because he had fallen asleep late, no no, he went to bed at the same time he always did. Right as the sun is halfway between going down for the day. He wakes late in the afternoon simply because Bdubs is a creature of sleep.
He goes through his usual routine. Check his hair to see if it’s gotten too greasy and decide if he wants to shower or not, it sticks up in weird ways and he can’t smooth it down for the life of him so. Bdubs takes a quick shower so his hair will actually cooperate. He dresses how he normally does, throwing on his cloak made of moss before heading outside for the first time that day. The sun is shining bright, thankfully not blinding Bdubs as he walks away from his home.
Hermitcraft season nine is coming to a close soon and Bdubs can’t help but be sad as he looks around the landscape. It really is a beautiful place, barely any corner untouched by his friends. It’s always weird to think of how this place will go abandoned pretty soon. Their builds will become overtaken by nature gradually. Bdubs kind of wishes he could see what the world will look like in another year, after it hasn’t been played on for awhile.
After walking for a few minutes, Bdubs gets bored. He equips his elytra and readys some rockets. He fires and jumps, the wings on his back unfurling with a few clicking noises and sending him into the sky. His destination is Tango’s brilliant build of Decked Out. Where some of their Hermits will all be let loose into the dungeon to run it one last time as a group. Excitement swells in Bdubs chests as he thinks about it, and the previous tiredness he felt wears off quickly.
Instead of landing at the front of Decked Out, Bdubs flies directly through the entrance and lands in the room where the door to the dungeon is. There’s already people standing in a circle, and he hears voices overlapping as he lands.
“Hey look who decided to show up!” Grian says with a teasing smile. He knocks his shoulder against Bdubs own.
“I made it just in time! Even with time to spare!” Bdubs shouts at him, taking a defensive stance. Grian snickers at him, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes.
“Just wake up ‘Dubs?” Etho speaks from behind him, amusement in his voice. Bdubs whirls around towards him. Etho is leaning against the wall, seemingly content in watching his fellow Hermits bickering amongst each other. Bdubs hadn’t even noticed he was here until he spoke, somehow not remembering that the two time champion of Decked Out will also be partaking in their shenanigans today.
Bdubs bounds his way closer to him, glaring up at his masked face. “Nuh uh! I’ve been awake for hours, actually!”
Etho’s eyes crinkle up in a smile, Bdubs watches in subtle amazement as he huffs a laugh and then reaches a hand out to mess with Bdubs’s hair.
“Hey!” Bdubs shouts at him, whacking his hands away and then running his own fingers through his hair to try and fix it again. Etho laughs at him again.
“Alright!” Grian says, clapping his hands together. “We’re all gonna have the same compass, and basically whoever gets out with the artifact is deemed the winner!”
Tango passes out compass, Bdubs turns his around in his hands. He’s a bit terrified of the fact the artifact is in the Deep Frost, letting a deep breath out. Etho pats his shoulder from beside him. His eyes crinkled again and Bdubs just knows he’s smiling under the mask. Bdubs gives him a smile back, and then immediately puts on a look of confidence.
Grian enters a shard into the barrel. As the doors begin to open, he and Cub complain of how high the clank will get with all of them in there. Tango tells Grian to take the cart, and the rest of them are instructed to follow him behind the scenes to reach the dungeon. Following Tango is a mess. Etho gets lost, the rest of them are snickering and tripping over cobble. Stepping over redstone lines and trying not to smack into any of the floating pieces of Decked Out while they fly. After a few minutes of this, and Grian sitting in the minecart waiting and laughing at them, they finally reach a spot where Tango places a bed down. They all set their spawns, then unload any stuff into their respective shulker boxes.
“Are you guys ready yet?” Grian asks, sounding bored. Bdubs can imagine him looking at his nails for lack of anything else to do.
“One moment!” Tango shouts. He digs a hole, motioning towards it then dropping down it himself. The Hermits all follow after him. Bdubs makes a weird noise as he hits the ground, Etho looking over at him with his eyebrows raised in amusement. Bdubs just smiles back at him.
“Okay, we’re good!” Gem shouts, and Bdubs can hear as Grian clicks the button as his minecart starts rolling.
It goes about well as you’d expect when you put a handful of Hermits into a space with other dangerous things wandering around. A few of them make it to the Deep frost, though Bdubs is not one of them. He watches from the screens in the lobby as Grian, Etho, and Cub anxiously move around the bottom level.
Cub makes it out of the Deep Frost first, followed by Etho. Grian gets close until he’s blasted by a sonic shriek and Bdubs watches as he practically explodes, his compass and the map laying on the ground where he was. Bdubs winces, knowing his ears are going to be ringing when he respawns.
Cub dies to an angry Vex. Since so many of them were in there, they generated a bunch of clank very quickly. Vexes are swarming the second and first levels of Decked Out. Everyone cheers Etho on, until he reaches level two and it becomes clear he has to do the chain parkour in order to make it all the way out.
He misses the first time because of course he does, it’s poetic at this point. Gem and Tango seem thrilled that this is happening again, laughing as they watch from the screens in the lobby. Bdubs bites his nails nervously. It would be funny if Etho failed once again due to the chain parkour. But he also thinks it would be cool if he actually got past it and got out.
He doesn’t. Tango tries to lure the ravenger away but as soon as Etho pops his head out from the death hole he is in, its target switches right back to him and Etho gets whacked once before he dies.
Everyone lets out groans of half hearted disappointment, all of them teasing Etho for letting that happen again.
They play a few rounds of other games in Decked Out as well. Bdubs is grinning widely by the end of it, adrenaline still pumping due to having to sprint away from Grian or ravengers. They’re all huffing and giggling while standing in a circle in the lobby.
“Thanks guys! That was really fun!” Grian says. He clasps his hand on Etho’s shoulder, shaking him lightly. “Last time in Decked Out, how we feeling?”
“You know the world will still be playable right? Just not on our official server,” Tango replies. He has a wide smile too, the sleeves of his dungeon master’s cloak swaying as he swings his arms back and forth.
Grian rolls his hands and shakes Etho a little harder, Etho side eyes him questioningly but lets the action continue. “Well yeah! But that’s different then actually being here and doing it. I’m going to miss seeing this giant building when I fly away from my base.”
Tango huffs a small laugh at him. All the other Hermits chime in with how they’ll miss Decked Out, commending Tango on how amazingly built it is.
“Right, well!” Grian cuts off the complimenting. “I’m off, got to make some stops before X closes the world down. I’ll see you all next season?”
There’s a chorus of yeses and goodbyes. Grian smiles at them all, and goes to pull his hand away from Etho’s shoulder. Etho turns his head toward him at the same time, though. And as Grian’s hand pulls away his finger catches on the strap of Etho’s mask. Grian seems to panic as this happens, pushing his hand forward again even though the mask strap is still around his finger.
Now, Bdubs doesn’t know why Etho covers his face. And honestly he hasn’t ever had any intention to ask. Every Hermit has things they hide, and every other Hermit respects that. Bdubs has never had any desire to see what was under Etho’s mask.
So, as he notices Etho’s mask is being accidentally unhooked, Bdubs flings himself in front of Etho. Standing as tall as he can with his arms out. Once he thinks he’s standing in a good spot that the other Hermits won’t be able to see Etho’s face either, he pulls his arms back in and covers his own eyes with his hand. He hears slapping noises, Bdubs suspects that the others also quickly covered their eyes with their hands after noticing what had happened.
“Oh my god! I am so sorry!” Bdubs hears Grian shout out. Followed by another slapping noise as he too covers his eyes.
“It’s fine,” Etho replies from in front of Bdubs.
“What did I just walk in on?” Says another voice, and the accent makes it easy to distinguish that it’s Pearl.
“Good, Etho?” Bdubs whispers to him, and he hears a small hum from in front of him. Bdubs knows that means yes, or some kind of variation of it. So he removes his hand and looks over to Pearl. She stands at the opening of the lobby, looking around at them all.
It must be a weird sight. With Bdubs standing close and face-to-face with Etho. (Or, chest-to-face but, whatever.) Everyone else still has their hands over their eyes.
“You guys are good now!” Bdubs reassures.
“Dude! Bdubs you were like a superhero, jumping in front of Etho like that. I didn’t even realize what was happening until you covered him!” Tango praises, a look of surprise on his face as his hands fall away to go back to his sides.
“Yeah, man. That was crazy,” Cub chimes in. His tone showed no signs of being surprised, but his eyes are a little wide as well.
“Seriously,” Pearl speaks again. “What did I walk in on?”
They all laugh. Grian apologizes a few more times, Etho continuing to assure him that it’s fine and was an accident. After Grian had seemingly accepted that will be Etho’s only answer, he says his goodbyes again and leaves.
The rest of them hangout for a while before departing. Bdubs walks out of Decked out groggy from all the physical activity they had done. Etho’s by his side, quiet as ever. When they get out to the landing Bdubs stops to put on his elytra and turns to Etho.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Bdubs says, standing on his tippy toes to press a kiss on the outer corner of Etho’s eye.
“‘Course,” Etho replies and puts a hand in his hair to ruffle it up.
Too tired to cause a fuss over that, Bdubs smiles at him and steps back. He fires off a rocket and heads back to his base, thinking about his soft bed the whole time. As soon as he gets home he sheds off the elytra and falls right asleep in his bed.
Etho, on the other hand, flies home and finds he can’t fall asleep. It’s silly, really, he’s still thinking of earlier. When his mask almost came off and Bdubs jumped in front of him with his eyes closed to protect Etho from the others seeing what’s under the mask.
It’s not like there is anything insanely secretive under it. It’s just Etho’s face, though he’s always been protective of people seeing him. For reasons tied to his childhood, he’s covered his face since he was a teenager. It’s simply become a staple of who he is now, and the thought of losing that makes him shudder.
The thing that’s keeping him up is that Bdubs had jumped in front of him the moment he realized what was going to happen. He had protected Etho’s secret, and had his own eyes closed to not see him himself. It’s… weird. Etho always thought the hermits were curious as to what he looks like. He figured that if the chance ever did come up, they would look. They wouldn’t cover their eyes, much less put themselves in between Etho and other people.
Leave it to Bdubs to completely throw Etho off. It’s not the first time, it probably won’t be the last. Bdubs always has done things differently than what Etho thought people are normally like. He surprises Etho constantly, it makes Etho’s head spin sometimes. He always thought he knew how people were, how they would act. Bdubs makes him off kilter.
In an attempt to keep himself busy, Etho goes to walk around his base for probably the final time. The world will close tomorrow, though the Hermits will gather together so Xisuma can send them all off one by one. All of them go off on their own for a bit until X has the next world sorted and pulls them back together. Most go to their own private worlds, others go to other multiplayer worlds. They’re permitted one shulker box to take with them, usually filled with clothes and other sentimental belongings the Hermits can shove in there. Etho has his packed already, which leaves him to do nothing but wander around his base.
He got a late start, so it’s not the most grand thing. But it’s pretty and it’s his, so who really cares. He likes it. He experimented with blocks he doesn’t normally use and it pulled together well. Bdubs is always really good at taking whacky blocks and making them work together. He’s a really talented builder, Etho loses his breath every time he sees something Bdubs had built.
Bdubs had jumped in front of him, Etho thinks again now that he was thinking about Bdubs again in the first place. Etho groans, he still can’t help but wonder why Bdubs did that.
Knowing he isn’t going to get any sleep, Etho decides he should just go bother Bdubs about it. He puts his elytra on and exits his base to fly off. Heading to Bdubs’s home. The night air has grown a little chilly and it feels nice against Etho’s flushed face. The sun had gone down a little bit ago, Etho knows Bdubs will most likely be asleep by now. But he knows Bdubs won’t mind being woken up as long as it’s no one else but Etho himself.
It’s second nature for Etho to fly to Bdubs’s base and let himself in. He goes to the bedroom, creaking open the door. Like a creep, he stands there and watches Bdubs sleep for a beat or two. Bdubs always looks so much more peaceful when he’s sleeping, the creases he normally has on his face are smoothed out. He snores lightly, his mouth hanging open. It’s not like it’s the prettiest sight but Etho still gets butterflies. (Someone calling him a “gay loser” rings through his head, it sounds suspiciously like Cleo.)
“‘Dubs,” Etho whispers after deciding he was being too creepy staring at his boyfriend sleeping. He walks further into the room, crouching at the bed so he’s face-to-face with the sleeping Bdubs. Questions still burn in the back of his mind as Bdubs stirs. Etho pokes him on the forehead. “Hey, wake up.”
Bdubs groans sleepily, turning onto his back. Etho chuckles quietly at him. Bdubs has never been easy to wake up. The guy can sleep through a tornado.
“I’ll lay on you,” Etho threatens with a tilt of his head. Bdubs still doesn’t make any moves. Etho stands up again. “You asked for it.”
He lets himself fall forward, landing on Bdubs. The smaller man in question makes an “oof” noise, his hands automatically coming up to push at Etho’s shoulder.
“Ack! Get off of me!” He shouts, seemingly now wide awake. Bdubs wiggles from under him, struggling. “You’re heavy!”
Etho huffs a quiet laugh, “I warned you.”
Bdubs struggles for a little longer. Twisting around and trying to shove Etho off of him. He resorts to cheating and pokes his fingers into Etho’s side.
Etho jerks, “Hey! No tickling!”
“Then get offa me!” Bdubs retorts back, shoving at his shoulders once again. Etho relents, chuckling as he rolls off of Bdubs. He sits cross cross on the bed, smiling at Bdubs as he dramatically makes it seem like he was catching his breath. He sits up, glaring at Etho half heartedly. “What are you waking me up for?”
Etho reaches out to ruffle his already messy hair, “Wanted to talk.”
Bdubs stops his attack of the hand Etho has in his hair, he tilts his head questioningly before his eyes go wide. “Oh! You’re breaking up with me, I knew this day would come!”
He says dramatically, falling back down to lay on his pillows to add to the effect. Etho laughs at him and shakes his head. He grabs one of Bdubs’s hands, intertwining their fingers together.
“No, no. Not that.” He looks at their hands, rubbing his thumb in circles on the back of Bdubs’s thumb. “Not yet, anyway.”
“Hey!” Bdubs squawks, jerking their hands around. Etho laughs again.
“No, I just… had a question, I guess.” Etho says, not knowing how to explain it. He’s never been too good at talking about his feelings, though it’s something he's working on. He had come to Bdubs to talk about it when it was bothering him in the first place, that’s already an improvement. He used to let these things sit with him until it drove him mad.
“Oh?” Bdubs questions, sitting up again. He pulls their hands into his lap and leans a little forwards. Putting all his attention towards Etho. “Go on.”
It goes quiet as Etho gathers his words. Bdubs waits patiently, squeezing his hand in the pattern of a pulse, something he does occasionally when they hold hands. Etho wants to ask why he does that but he’ll have to save it for another day.
“Earlier, when we were at… uhh,” Etho loses his train of thought as soon as it gets to him.
“Decked Out?” Bdubs asks, smiling small at him.
“Uh, yes. When we were at Decked out earlier. And Grian had.. he.. um.”
“Pulled your mask?” Bdubs asks again, finishing the sentence for him.
Etho nods and clears his throat. “Yeah. You had.. you jumped in front of me.”
Bdubs’s eyes squint in confusion, he looks like he’s waiting to see if Etho has more to add to that. On his side, Etho has run out of words. He squirms under the Bdubs’s stare.
“Yes? Is there more to that?”
Etho’s head is spinning again. He had already said what he needed too, but Bdubs finds it so normal that he doesn't pick up on the question. On the “why?”. He sits there, with his hand doing the same repeated pattern, with a curious and searching gaze. It’s kind of driving Etho mad.
“Well, why?” Etho asks, the two words being the only things coming to mind.
Bdubs stares at him. Then, tilts his head again. “What do you mean ‘why’?”
Etho huffs and looks away. “Why would you do that? Are you not curious?”
Bdubs face lights up then, and his mouth forms a small ‘o’. He giggles and leans back, “Oh Etho. You are silly, you know that?”
Etho, now the one confused, squints his eyes at him. “What?”
Bdubs smiles. He resituations himself, turning so his back is to Etho and then leaning back in one fluid motion. He keeps their hands held together, pulling Etho’s arm around his shoulder. His head is pressed against Etho’s chest and he tilts it back so he can look up at him, Etho himself looks down.
“Nah, I’m not curious.” He says softly. That one sentence is enough to derail Etho’s assumptions of other people. “I don’t think any of the other Hermits are either. Do you want us to be curious?”
Etho shakes his head, “Not really, I guess. I just figured, yknow, you hide things from people and they get curious.”
Bdubs hums at him. “You should already know this by now, but Hermitcraft is different. We all have secrets. We don’t ask why Grian sometimes has eyes following him around, we don’t ask about Iskall’s eye, and we don’t ask about your mask. It’s up to you if you want us to know or not, Etho.”
“Oh,” Etho replies and looks back up at the wall ahead of him. Bdubs chuckles at him, he gets up and turns back around again so he’s facing Etho. Bdubs has never been known to sit still, once he finds a position he likes it only takes a matter of time before he moves again.
He breaks apart their hands and instead raises his hands so they’re holding onto the side of Etho’s face. “I love you, yeah? I don’t care if you never show me your face.”
Etho swallows, he bends forward until his forehead is pressed against Bdubs.
“Okay,” he replies quietly. His question now settled.
“Okay,” Bdubs echoes with a small laugh. He sits back again and kisses Etho’s forehead where his headband would normally be sat, but he had rid it earlier when he got home. “Can we go to bed now?”
Etho snickers, “Yes, yes, sleeping beauty.”
Bdubs whacks him before quite literally, wrapping himself around Etho. They fall asleep about an hour later, because neither of them will stop bickering with the other.
i wish gay ppl were real :(
REBLOGS ARE AWESOME 🫡
tagging @redraindrops bc they asked to be reminded when i write it :3
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tunastime · 2 years
Text
the various skills of ethoslab and how he learned them and when. the list of a man who's lived a bit longer than he should have. (inspired by this post)
field meals: it's just soup. he never makes them for anyone else, not until they lose the grainy texture they start with. he learns from a man in a village that questions why he covers his face. etho laughs, but he never tells him why. the man doesn't ask again. he tells him that if he lets the vegetables soften for longer that they won't make a gritty soup when mashed. he learns spiced pumpkin, beetroot, chicken and potato.
(he stays for two weeks. he rids the nearby temple of infestation in repayment. when the temple master tries to repay him with gold, he tells him that he only wants a written recipe of how to bake bread. the baker’s son gives him one with honey in it.)
soap making: is something he learns pretty early on in his career in machinery. it's no good just to rinse your hands in water and it's still no good just to be buying soap up-charged, and lye isn't any good alone. lye doesn't smell, or worse yet, smells heavy and thick and doesn't come off your skin or out of your clothes properly. he picks up a book somewhere about it. one part lye. one part oil. one part anything else. beeswax and honey. pine tar and coconut oil. he learns what mixtures get redstone out of his clothes and what he can use to wash his hair with so it doesn't frizz. he washes his clothes in a basin of warm water and honey and rosemary soap, as he does his blankets and his sheets until his whole home smells like rosemary and honey and lye and beeswax. he washes his hair and it smells like pine.
plant identification: it takes one bad meal. one bad berry before etho starts learning. pause gets sick in the snow, really sick. he doesn't cough up blood but the sheen of sweat never leaves his face for the entire week that he lies shivering under two coats and a blanket. every time etho and beef try to say something comforting, he says, “stop fussing over me, i'm fine, just food poisoning. beef cooked the chicken wrong.” (it wasn't the chicken. it was the elderberries. etho spends time figuring out what the ripe ones look and taste like. he learns mistletoe, nettles and hogweed, rosary peas and lily of the valley. he doesn't see any of them except the lily again. but he keeps the information for later.) pause gets better after a week of his eyes far away, glazed over, sweating, of him unable to keep down fluids, of shaking awake in the night, holding etho's hand. they get sick, but nobody gets sick like that again.
sewing: pause steadies his hands. he tells him that if he messes up he'll poke himself and beef tells him to stop fussing. etho can thread a needle, can't he? (he can't.) he stabs his index finger three times poking it through the fabric to make a crude patch with their initials on it. then he sews shut a tear on beef's jacket, then he affixes a handful of new buttons to an old shirt of bdubs'. bdubs has him sewing squares within the week, and they stitch together a quilt of scrap fabric big enough for them both. there isn't a cold night that the quilt doesn't stave away. it's in a different spot each time etho sees him: draped over a chair, lovingly folded on the bedside, pulled over his shoulders. they wear it threadbare.
braiding: his hair gets too long. he ties it back himself the first time, some loose thing that falls out as soon as he does it. he says to himself (a reminder): “you break it into three. you're always crossing over the middle most strand. right over middle, then right becomes middle, so left over the middle. and repeat. pulling tight.” he gets better at it, until he can tie a strong three strand braid that he learned from tying twine together to make a stronger rope. bdubs sees him pull it back a few times and braid it like that, and one of those times, late, when they're both tired and leaning on each other, he turns and takes his loose hair and asks if he can braid it. etho shrugs and says “sure.” (and his voice says only you can do that). bdubs says “sit still.” etho sits in front of his crossed legs and bdubs combs out his hair. he tells him as he works: “it's different than the three, but not that different. you pull an extra strand in each time. it looks like fish scales, so people call it a fishtail.” bdubs braids and pulls it tight. he leans forward into etho and etho leans back into him.
(etho spends two days knotting fraying ropes in fishtail braids so his hands learn (and he fidgets, and he fidgets, and it becomes his new fidget, to tie rope together) before he attempts it on his shoulder-blade length hair. bdubs guides his hands, starting him off until he can braid the top too. he only cuts it once—right before the second death games, and even then, bdubs manages to braid a little braid into his hair.)
tea specialist: it's methodical. that's what he learns, when he travels out further than he had in a long time and wanders into the city. he, like many adventurers, takes refuge, and he, unlike many adventurers, stumbles into the tea shop and takes it all in. steady hands (beef taught him that) keep him from crushing the leaves too fine to strain. he learns what hot water feels like in a tin kettle and how to prop it properly on the coals so it heats even and doesn't char the underside of the tin. he buys two wooden cups there, sealed with wax, and brings them with the kettle. it stays on the countertop.
(he uses it every night. later, in a snow fort in the middle of nowhere, he sets one of the wooden cups into the calloused hands of his partner and friend, and bdoubleo looks at him with eyes wide and round and red. he doesn't kill him when he sleeps.)
staving off the effects of sleep deprivation: there's a body sleeping next to him that needs him awake. there's a place someone can sit between wake and dream that makes sure that the body doesn't tire and it's here where he stays. his heart slows way down, but his eyes stay alert through a bleary haze. there are things he hears that aren't real. when his partner (partner, the word feels weird on his tongue now that bdubs is a red life. if they were anywhere else, he would be safe to sleep) wakes two hours from now, then he will rest. he will lie there and listen, waiting to hear him stop breathing. he never gets to that point, but he certainly sleeps very little. beef and pause never told him off for doing it, but when there were sections of the day that he didn't remember and he sat up and there was a coat draped over his knees with a tag that had VB written in chunky letters, he smiled to himself. he's tired now, but he's good at pretending he's not.
separating the things that are dreams from the ones that are not: he's still waiting for someone to tell him how to do that
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