Once again, Etho and Bdubs find themselves in the same predicament: navigating the complex relationships of their lives while trying to keep each other safe. However, unlike the times before, they have a little bit of a better understanding of each other. And a little more commitment to what they've made together.
Or: like every time before, Etho and Bdubs have a conversation. This time, it feels good.
(1584 words) (x)
The light sky is waning fast, the fringes of the horizon still orange with fading sunlight. In it, the small, deepslate keep is almost purple, the warmth of the day still held close in the humid river air and sun-warm ground. Inside, Tango is fast asleep. The sniffling breaths he takes are muffled slightly by the noise of nighttime: crickets and salmon and birds. Bdubs is among these noises as he lowers himself to the ground at the base of the keep, dropping his pack and resting against the cooling stone. He tips his head back, letting out a long, tired sigh through his teeth.
Above him, as he widens his eyes and raises his eyebrows, he can see the beginning pinpricks of stars. He hums to himself, reaching up, eclipsing for just a moment the spread of the planets and suns he’s learned so well from stargazing. The motion feels familiar, in its own, strange way. He stares up through his fingers before he drops his hand into his lap. Bdubs shuts his eyes, letting out another slow sigh.
From beside him, Etho clears his throat. Bdubs startles, immediately cracking an eye at him, shifting around to pretend like he hadn’t just jumped. Etho snorts.
“Mind if I join you?” he asks, that familiar smile to his voice and a crinkle to his eyes. Bdubs blinks his eyes open, furrowing his eyebrows as he gives Etho a quick once over. He crinkles his nose.
“You gonna nag me again?” he asks. Etho huffs out a laugh.
“Me?” he grins. “Always.”
Bdubs sighs again, slumping back against the cold deepslate tile. He rolls his eyes.
“Alright, wise guy,” he grumbles. Then he pats the grass beside him. His hand comes back slightly dirty. Etho laughs under his breath as Bdubs waves his hand, trying to shake off the dirt before he ungracefully smears his palm onto his pant leg. After a moment, Etho sinks down beside him, letting out his own, tired sigh in relief.
“How ya feelin’?” Bdubs asks, shifting his body ever so to face Etho better. He glances over at him. Etho glances back. He raises his eyebrows and, in the fading light, looks less tired than normal. Bdubs for a brief moment wonders if it’s his doing.
“Mm?” Etho hums. “Pretty good, all things considered.”
Bdubs nods.
“Good,” he says. “I’m excited we’re together again, y’know.”
Etho snorts. He raises his eyebrows in question.
“And Tango?”
Bdubs makes a face. Duh. “A’course.”
Etho laughs again softly.
“Me too,” he says, all pleased like Bdubs had said something he found funny. Bdubs likes that tone of voice a lot. It means only good things out of Etho. Which usually meant good things for Bdubs, too.
They lapse into a silence then, both comfortable and apprehensive. Etho fiddles with his hands, the skin of his fingers, picking at the nail beds in a show of his bad habit. Bdubs wants to grab his hands and force him to stop, as much as he kind of wants to tell him to just ask whatever question he’s holding himself back from, but Etho rolls his shoulders and settles back against the tile and seems to relax, so for a quiet moment, Bdubs watches his eyes flutter shut, and sees the pale eyelashes against his face in the rising moonlight. His chest seizes for a moment. Then Etho hums out:
“‘M sorry I forgot that one time,” he says, almost muffled through the mask he’s still wearing. “Bout the dragon.”
Bdubs blinks. He almost asks, albeit stupidly, what dragon. There’s a moment where his mouth opens and closes as he tries to remember what in the world Etho could be talking about. Dragon. Dragon. When had he fought the Ender Dragon recently? Not Hermitcraft, not this season at least. Later than that? Why would he be bringing it up now if it were something from this world? Unless he means.
Ah.
Of course, this train of thought for Bdubs lasts only a second. And it’s in that second that he finally stammers out:
“Oh, what?” and clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “Nah, Etho. Don’t—that was so long ago. Don’t you worry about that.”
“You’re not mad?” Etho asks, tilting his head over. His eyes open to peer at Bdubs. It feels like his pupil is consuming his iris, the way the dark brown and black of his good eye muddle together in the dark. It’s black like the night sky. His eyebrows furrow as he looks over Bdubs’ face. Bdubs snorts.
“Oh I was furious,” he finally says, tearing his eyes away from Etho’s face. Warmth crawls up the back of his neck. He stares at Etho’s unfolded hands, which have come to rest palm up on his knees. “But now? You think ol’ Bdubs carries grudges?”
He looks up at Etho again. Etho shrugs, looking away.
“Uh… yeah?”
Bdubs blanches.
“What! No—not with—” he stammers out. Etho pales even further, visibly swallowing. “Etho!”
‘What!” he squeaks out, spreading his hands, shoulders coming up to his ears. Bdubs swats at him, grumbling as he whacks fabric.
“Not for you,” he huffs. Etho deflates a fraction—at least, his shoulders come down from the sides of his head. He tilts his head, eyebrows still raised questioningly.
“You sure?” he asks. Bdubs sighs.
“Yeah. Not anymore,” he says, folding his hands together, unfolding them, fidgeting with his fingers. For whatever reason, a prickle of nervousness stores away in his stomach, forcing him to swallow to try and push it around. He sighs, stretching out his hands. “We… we play these things differently. I know that now.”
Etho, from his peripheral, nods once.
“Oh…” he says, voice mellowing out. He sighs too. “That’s good. I’m glad.”
“Yeah,” Bdubs says. He reaches out after a beat, knocking his fist into Etho’s shoulder. Etho wobbles, eyes crinkling. “I missed hanging out with you.”
“You—” Etho wheezes, voice peaking suddenly in amusement. Any higher and they’ll really risk waking Tango. “You see me every day!”
“Well!” Bdubs huffs, folding his arms. “This is different!”
Etho shakes his head. The tufts of white hair being held back by his poorly tied headband come loose all at once. He sweeps them back unsuccessfully, scrunching up his face.
“I dunno Bdubs,” he argues, squinting at him. Bdubs rolls his eyes dramatically, hunkering down over his folded arms. “Feels a bit the same, don’t’cha think?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Etho shrugs, relaxing again, leaning back against the cold stone. He finally tugs his mask down and off as he settles, turning his face from where it rests against the stone to give Bdubs a once-over. He smiles and it’s all slightly crooked teeth and sharp canines and wrinkling his nose. Bdubs’ lungs squeeze painfully.
Maybe that’s the reason that he leans forward and grabs a fistful of Etho’s shirt. Maybe it’s the reason Etho’s hand ends up on his knee, then his thigh, then his hip as Bdubs kisses him. Maybe it’s the reason he feels Etho laugh against his mouth and kiss him again. And maybe it’s the reason that Bdubs rests his forehead against his, nose against his nose bridge, and sighs the most profound breath he has in a while. The air leaves his lungs and enters warm and humid. From this close, Bdubs can see the faint beauty marks on Etho’s cheek. He smooths his hand back up Etho’s collarbone to his shoulder, flattening out his high-neck shirt, keeping his hand under the lip of his coat, under fluff and wicking fabric.
“Let’s not do something stupid this time,” Bdubs says to the point of his nose. “Okay?”
“Like what?” Etho asks. His eyes flick up. For a moment, they’re far away, fixed on a spot far from Bdubs’ dark eyes. His expression softens like he’s remembering something far too painful. Bdubs squeezes his shoulder.
He’s never gonna get that blood off his hands, is he?
“Like stupid traps,” Bdubs finally says, forcing a smile. Etho’s eyes clear just a touch, and he pulls a face.
“I’ve never made a—” Etho pauses. Then he grins. “A stupid trap.”
Bdubs rolls his eyes. It’s in this moment that he pulls away, shaking his head as Etho giggles at him. He smothers the sound with his hands, peering over at Bdubs over his fingers. It takes everything in Bdubs not to swat at him again. His face is properly warm now.
Instead, he shuffles over and makes his home at the dip of Etho’s side. He folds his arms, huffs indignantly, and presses his cheek to his shoulder. Etho makes a small squeak. He relaxes, though, and lets Bdubs lie against him for a long moment. After that moment, however, he presses his cheek to his head and says:
“I’m not gonna let you fall asleep here.”
Bdubs grumbles.
“Fine,” he says. He lets Etho untangle himself from beside him, takes both his hands when he offers to help him stand. In the slowly building moonlight, Etho and Bdubs trudge into the small deepslate fort. Etho’s hand stays in his, warm and solid. Tango still rests soundly, sprawled out on one sleeping mat at the other side of the base, tail twitching ever so in his sleep. Bdubs sighs again as he lies down next to Etho. It takes a long time for his eyes to finally close.
At least he has him now. He doesn’t want to let him go any time soon.
what is it about the least canon-compliant aromantic headcanons that makes them the best. like when a character shows no romantic attraction okay that is pretty awesome. but when romance is a big part of a character/plot? oh now we're fucking cooking
Love this picture of Jack Manifold. He looks so virginal and pure, yet the pink sheets invoke feelings of subtle passion and romance. The hand placement implies tenderness and devotion to the personal divine. I’ve always said that Jack is one of the modern reincarnations of Joan D’Arc and I think you can really see that in this image
i made this post during the last few days of a manic episode in which i was having delusions about jack manifold, gerard way, and myself being reincarnations of joan of arc’s fractured soul and during a period of time in which i was self isolating for months in my apartment and hadn’t spoken to anyone or left my room in a week due to “preparing” for the second coming of christ. to this day i have never made a better tumblr post and i will hopefully never be able to recreate the conditions that made this post possible. this is my magnum opus and i hope you all continue to enjoy it
the snails but I turned them into giant mounts!!!! for funsies
mail mounts!!!!!
I usually hate spending more than 3 hours on a piece, but I had a lot of fun doing these
Continuation of the snail mounts!!!
Once again, these take long but they are super fun, especially trying to figure out how to saddle them. Here's some ramblings about them:
Pearl - she gets a chocobo! Mostly because I was thinking of chococraft at the time.
Etho - a very big grey wolf. The saddle is mechanic and shifts based on the wolf's position, that way it can sit down without Etho falling off!
Tango - a ravager of course! It's design is based mostly on a bison
I wanna make art of other things so I'm taking a break from these, but I still have a lot of ideas for other hermit's mounts!
baratheonpilled
blakekathryn
jacobvanloon
vaporwave
romaincrisis
