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tunastime · 28 days

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Sunset in the Heart of that Green Valley

started drumming up an au accidentally with some input from the mutuals beloved. told myself it wasn't going anywhere but this so I had to stick as much as I could into just. this. I SWEAR. < lying

Bdubs can't remember a part of his life without Etho--no matter the shape or profession, the danger or lackthereof. It was always Etho, and himself, and this wild, wasted world. Or, Bdubs watches his cows on the farm. Etho joins him on his horseback ride around the perimeter fence.

(4111 words)

It's a long, slow ride a mile from the wire fence and sparse tree line that borders the ranch. It's nothing but cool wind and wiregrass for miles, soft green and brown as the spring starts to roll in. Soon enough the field will be full of baby calves and their healthy mamas, big brown eyes and full stomachs. Horses too—lots of 'em, kind natured but tough, enough to fight you but not enough to bite the hand that feeds 'em. He'll be able to lift a foal into his arms to stand it upright and watch its mother nose his armpit and look at him with those soft brown eyes. For now, BdoubleO takes that long ride along the border, listening to cicadas sing in the trees. That's not the only thing singing though. Besides the breathing of his horse beneath him and the cattle dog that runs ahead, is the soft, mellow voice of his partner, Etho, humming indistinctly.

He has his head turned toward the tree line, eyes scanning listlessly for any sign of movement. Just a couple of weeks ago, they lost a handful of chickens to a fox, a thing neither of them could stand to kill even as they went looking for it. From where he rides next to him, Bdubs can see the holster for his revolver strapped tight to his thigh. He's never actually seen the gun, for what it's worth. Not in action. Not even the smell of gunpowder on Etho's leather work gloves. He's only ever watched his thin, strong, meticulous hands clean the individual parts and put it back together. It makes sense why Etho's focus is so drawn to that tree line. He probably doesn’t want it to happen again.

Bdubs watches the curve of his shoulders under the off-white button-up he's wearing. It's loose at his elbows and under his arms, but from the way he slouches, hat tipped back to cover his neck, it's tight across his back. Bdubs sighs—for a moment, that's the only thing that breaks the silence. Bdubs' longing rings out in the stale air, and a chuckle joins the hum of that wordless melody.

"Somethin' the matter, 'dubs?" Etho says, glancing over. He can just hear him through the scarf tucked around his face, tied behind his neck. His hair is tucked under his hat, tied away nearly the same. Its just his eyes, warm and smiling, eyebrows raised, when he looks over. Bdubs scoffs, rolling his eyes.

"No," he says. "Nothin's the matter. What's it to ya, anyway?"

Etho shrugs. He shuts his eyes for a second when he does. Bdubs can picture the little frown on his face when he does.

"Figured I'd ask," he says cooly. "That was a pretty profound sigh."

"Nothin' for you to worry about," Bdubs gripes. He taps Lacey with his heels and she meanders forward, huffing out through her nose. He hears Etho laugh as he pulls away, and it's only a second before Etho's at his side again. He tugs Bdubs' hat over his eyebrows.

"Don't be like that, 'dubs!" Etho pouts. "You sounded upset."

"Quit teasin' me," Bdubs grumbles, swatting at him with the hand not wrapped around the reigns. Lacey patters to a stop as Bdubs slackens on the reigns, trying to grab Etho's hat. Etho ducks his head.

"Bdubs!" He laughs, pushing his hands away.

"Quit!"

"You quit!"

Bdubs huffs again, shrinking back, then straightens. Etho's turned away from him, all of a sudden. Bdubs goes to speak, but as he does, he hears Etho say something so quiet it's felt more than heard.

It's sunset, he's just realized. The orange light leaks through gaps in the trees, casting gold bars over the wheatgrass and dry dirt. He can see light blue leaking into orange, pink, yellow, blending into white clouds above him. This time, the profound sigh whistles out of Etho's chest. Bdubs bites his tongue. Haloed by the gold light, Etho looks like the type of things only lonely cowboys dream about. The perfect outlaw, or the hardworking ranch hand, or the kindhearted sheriff looking for love. The things you read in dime novels, no matter the flavor of romance. Bdubs feels his heart squeeze, the want pooling in his elbows and the joint of his hips. He won't sigh again, or make any other sound, not as long as Etho watches the sunset.

"Wow," Etho mumbles. His horse snorts. Etho huffs a laugh, reaching just far enough to pet between his ears. "Wow..."

"It's gorgeous," Bdubs says. He'd be lying if he said he was talking about the sunset.

Etho turns back to him after a beat. Bdubs's eyes flick up to his face, tilting his head a little as Etho's soft eyes linger on him. He can see the indistinct scarring up part of his face, near his eye and eyebrow. Tugging off his gloves, Bdubs raises a careful hand up to Etho's face. There, he tucks two fingers in the space between his cheek and the scarf over his face, and tugs it down. Etho doesn't stop him. In fact, he's smiling just so when Bdubs does. He's got nothing to hide, really—the scarf is for the dust, more than anything else. He scrunches his nose as the scarf falls around his neck.

"Hey there, sweetheart," Bdubs says softly. His hand cups Etho's cheek, thumb smoothing over the rough, scarred skin of his left cheek. Fire. They're all healed burns. His thumb dances over them anyway, like he'd never seen them or brushed them or kissed them before. Two long strands of hair frame Etho's face. Here, Bdubs tucks one of them behind his ear, still moving to cradle his face. The look that passes over him makes Bdubs' stomach fold over. He's smiling, wide and soft, and his eyes shut as he leans into Bdubs' palm.

"Hiya, Bdubs," Etho mumbles. His voice hits a low octave as he whispers. Bdubs flushes. Etho's hand falls to Bdubs' hip, both steadying for himself and for Bdubs' balance, thumb pressed into his hipbone as he leans forward into Bdubs' space. Etho's hand comes to tip his hat back as far as it'll go before it knocks from his head, scrunching up his nose as Bdubs' flush grows a little warmer, a little further over his cheeks and ears. He's smiling, though, and so is Etho. Bdubs can't help it—he was just so damn handsome, that stupid cowboy. Damn him. He keeps himself lingering in Etho's space for a beat longer, tracing out the high of his cheek with his thumb. The sun's still setting, warm and orange behind him. He can't even see stars yet.

"Can we stay?" Bdubs asks, sighing out his nose. His eyes flick behind Etho's shoulder for a moment, watching the bars of light through the trees. "Just to watch?"

Etho smiles, his eyes going all soft and round like they do when Bdubs says something he particularly likes. Must've liked that, then. He noses Bdubs' palm just a little, looking up into the sky before settling on Bdubs' face again.

"Sure," Etho mumbles. "Why not? Stars haven't even come out yet."

Bdubs grins, knocking their foreheads together, a soft laugh bubbling up in his chest before it leaves him with his exhale. Etho scrunches his nose.

Leaning forward as far as he can, Etho kisses him. His warm, gloved hand fits over the back of his neck, brushing through the close cropped hair there. His lips are chapped from the dusty air, but they're dry and warm and Bdubs feels Etho hum against his mouth. He presses back and up into him, free hand falling to his knee to stabilize himself. Etho pulls in a fast breath through his teeth and kisses him again, firm but gentle. Bdubs shuts his eyes and keeps them shut, feeling Etho's hand curl against the base of his skull, feeling them work in tandem with each other. It's nice and easy and tender in a way that curls up in Bdubs' chest and rests there, calmly. It's sweeter than anything else he knows, or damn near close to it.

He smiles against his lips, dragging his thumb in a slow line across the rippled scar on his cheek. He's so gentle with him, Etho is, as he is with Etho, up until the point of course that they're chasing each other around on foot and on horseback and scrapping in the dirt just to prove a point. But here it's intentional. Bdubs rubs his cheek and that scar so Etho knows he wants to feel it He wants to feel where it starts at the high of his cheekbone and ends just under the low dip of his eye, how the uneven surface gives to smoother skin, how it’s all patches of rough and light. He wants to see that it cuts through his eyelid and eyebrow and that the eyebrow never really grew back and his hearing wasn't always that good in that ear. He wants to. He loves him. To love Etho was to love each thing he called an imperfection.

"I'll be damned, cowboy," he mumbles under his breath. Etho laughs, just a little, from somewhere high in his chest.

"What's that?" he asks, crushing his cheek into the heel of Bdubs' hand. Bdubs shakes his head.

"Nothin', gorgeous."

"Mmh," Etho agrees. Bdubs can tell his face is warm from more than just the desert heat.

"You liked that, mm?" he says. He leans up to kiss Etho just once, sighing out through his nose.

Etho nods, stilted, still flushing as Bdubs draws himself and his hand away. There's a moment that Etho's hand stays warm and solid on his hip and the back of his neck. His dark eyes sweep over him, the clouded vision of his left still trying to focus on Bdubs' face. A soft smile lingers on his face, lifting the edges just enough to form the smile lines Bdubs loves to kiss. They're there more often than not, still fading as Etho's face softens, as he takes care to wash the grime off and soothe his skin with beeswax. They linger for a second before they, and Etho, draw away, settling back on his saddle and sitting up. He stretches, screwing up his expression as Bdubs hears his spine pop.

"Augh," he vocalizes. Bdubs snorts as Lacey does, shuffling her hooves in the dry grass.

"Let's get a move on then, old man," Bdubs teases, reaching for his reins and to prod the soft of Etho's knee. Etho jerks, trotting his horse a step away from Bdubs hands. There, he sticks out his tongue, fixes his hat, and tucks the bandana around his nose again. There's that familiar shape—sheriff to outlaw, the line of Etho's eyes honing his gaze to razor sharp. Bdubs sighs, letting himself laugh, before he jerks his head forward, pushing his hat back onto his head. He prods Lacey with the heels of his boots and she steps forward into a jog.

Above his head, the wink of stars begin to shine in the dull, pale blue sky. He can still see the lick of orange light like flames above the treeline, cascading over the red-grey and sparse green hills, framing Etho in a delicate picture. Bdubs grins, eyes settling on his partner behind him. He sees Etho's eyes squint as he presumably smiles. Nudging a little more, Bdubs brings Lacey up to a trot, and further to a canter as he hears Etho laugh, loud and clear across the planes, behind him.

In the distance, he can see the warm cast of oil lamps they lit before they left. As much as Bdubs' bones crave the man not even a few yards behind him, they ache for the cool halls of their house, warm coffee, and the light he can just barely catch in the rising night.

Later that night, Bdubs scrapes congealed fat out of the cast iron skillet Etho cooked in. His body and stomach are heavy with the meal they’ve just finished, beans and pork and cornmeal grits, the taste of whatever last few seasonings Etho had thrown in still lingering between his teeth. He scrubs the pan in the hot water, feeling out what were nicks in the pan and what was dirt. He’d hate to ruin the seasoning they’d just built up on the pan. He raises it from the soapy water after a moment, giving it a good shake as his eyes track over the dusty-grey surface. Clean as can be. As he finishes, toweling off his hands as he lays the skillet to dry, he turns back to the room behind him.

It’s starting to smell a bit like coffee and a bit like woodfire smoke, the embers of their fireplace and stove fire still filling the room. Etho has tucked himself on the couch, knitted blanket draped over his shoulders and a book open on his folded legs. That was one thing about the desert that Bdubs never got used to—it got cold quickly. The air seeped the heat right out of the ground, right underneath your feet, as soon as the lick of sunshine from the day was gone. Etho had the right idea, curling himself into the smallest spot on their worn couch, blanket drawn tight around him, enough to where only his socked feet poked out. He’d tied his long hair up and away from his face, stark white locks delicately balanced on the top of his head. Bdubs hums as he wanders over.

Etho picks up his head, blinking slowly at him. His gaze seems far away as it pins on him.

“Hi, Etho,” Bdubs says, scrunching up his nose. “You fall asleep on me after dinner?”

“Mm?” Etho questions. He shakes his head. “No, no, never.”

Bdubs snorts. As he stands beside the front of the couch, Etho’s hand comes out, his cold fingers wrapping around Bdubs’ wrist. Bdubs makes a small, startled sound, but lets Etho tug him forward and onto the couch beside him. He was deceptively strong—it was the one thing nobody would guess about him. Well—maybe not the only thing. Etho’s life, much like his own, was so different compared to the docile, almost domestic, ranch life they’d build together. Bdubs sinks into the couch cushions, and not even a beat later, Etho leans his back against his arm. Bdubs’ hum peters into a giggle.

“Y’know,” he starts. “I’m not sure I believe you. I think you might me lyin’ to me, Etho.”

“Mm? About what?”

Bdubs shrugs.

“Dunno, you looked pretty dang tired a second ago.”

Etho shakes his head, leaning back a little further. Bdubs gets the message. He shifts around until his leg hooks under Etho’s arm, until Etho can settle back and rest his head and back against Bdubs’ chest. The book rests on Etho’s shins now, all but forgotten as Etho tips his head back to take a look at Bdubs behind him. He seems satisfied with what he sees, because he shuffles to get comfortable.

“I don’t know about that,” Etho drawls, a smile tugging at his mouth. Bdubs scoffs. He kisses the top of Etho’s head, hands cupping around his ears to hold his head still. He feels that smile tug at his cheeks a little more and nuzzles his head for good measure.

“Alright,” he placates. “I’ll believe you for now.”

Etho hums, satisfied.

“Good.”

Bdubs lets his hands fall to Etho’s shoulders. As Etho reaches to pick up his book from his lap, Bdubs shifts him a bit more, sitting upright. His hands fall to Etho’s upper back, before he starts to shift his hair, unweaving it from where it had balanced atop his head. Etho seems to pick up on his message, sitting forward a bit as Bdubs begins to comb his fingers through Etho’s white hair.

It’s much longer than it’s ever been, Bdubs thinks—it must be. He doesn’t think it’s ever been past his shoulders when they were together before, and definitely not when Etho was a sheriff. He’d never get away with hair past his shoulders. It was bad enough that he got so many nasty scars from scrapes and threats and whatever people threw at him. Bdubs smooths his hand down the back of his neck, feeling out the base of his skull. It’s painful to think of what Etho had to get through to get here. His hair must be a testimony to that, the fine, white-blond strands reaching to just past his shoulderblades. Bdubs is careful as he weaves his hands through, tucking stray strands behind Etho’s ears, combing back from his widow’s peak to the base of his head.

He was a criminal before he was a sheriff—Bdubs remembers that. He remembers it because he was one, too. Pretty damn good. It was hard, though. Hard on Etho, who was just trying to do something with his life, to put his artistry to work, his craftsmanship. When he finally landed a job, the gang was already falling apart. He wasn’t even the first to leave—someone left for a damn sheriff. And Bdubs had laughed, then. He watched Etho set his hat on Bdubs head and felt those now memorized, strong hands squeeze his shoulders.

He found him again when Etho walked past the tiny 3-by-3 cell Bdubs had managed to worm his way into. Wasn’t that a sight for sore eyes? The fine line of Etho’s jaw cuffed by a high collared marshal's uniform, badge and all, hat pulled low over his eyes. He hadn’t meant to lock himself up in there, but as soon as he was out, he promised Etho he’d never go back. And he never did. He sat himself at the strong wooden desk catty-corner to Etho’s and dispensed justice like he’d never done a wrong deed in his life. They were fair, though. Nothing but fair. No blood but on their teeth or nose or throat. No blood on their hands.

Etho sighs warmly as Bdubs starts to braid his hair. He keeps a firm hold on the strands he weaves in and out of each other, working slowly and carefully as he absorbs himself in thought. He was there for a lot of Etho’s life. But he wasn’t there when Etho got his scar. He only saw it afterwards, during that first time he saw him from that cell.

Etho had described it late one night, after all was said and done between them, their bodies pressed so close in the same, small bed in Etho’s home that there wasn’t a molecule of space left. He’d let Bdubs trace the valleys and ridges of the burnt skin, tucked his face into Bdubs neck to breathe out a wet sigh. Coals and fire—not an accident like Bdubs had always presumed. He’d weaseled himself out of their gang of bandits, but it’s not always that the life of bandits leaves you. He’d messed up an order for another group, he’d said, when he finally got a job as a metalsmith. Too few bullets. It was a lie. He’d known from the shape of the man's mouth as he’d spoken it, but his face found the furnace regardless. Hot ash, coals, smoke in the back of his throat. It had been a long time since he’d been really able to see out of that eye. It hurt to read. It was too blurry to focus.

Now, Bdubs knows, Etho focuses and reads just fine. And Bdubs drags his fingers over his skin like it were any other part of him to touch. And touch he did. Hey! He wasn’t ashamed of himself! He spent a good few years loving this man and he was allowed to love him right and true. Whatever Etho wanted, Etho could have. He’d build him a terracotta and tile ranch house, with darkened oak and stained wood floors, a fireplace big enough to hang a kettle in, horses, cows, dogs, cats, wheatfields tall enough to lose himself in. The rolling hills of the valley were endless. They’d find a homestead, a life, friends, family, anywhere they went. And so they went. And they found the ones they’d loved all along just as they thought they would.

Bdubs cards his fingers through the braided hair for a final time, letting it hang loose and wavy around Etho’s shoulders. He instead maps the rise of his spine with his palm, listening to Etho hum and feeling his heartbeat.

“How’s your book?” Bdubs asks softly. Etho nods.

“Good,” he says, just as quiet. “It’s a real tough read, ‘Dubs.”

Bdubs glances over his shoulder as Etho leans back into his chest, trying to catch a glimpse at the cover. Etho’s tucked the book under his knee, though. He can’t even peek at the type of book it is.

“Mm?” he says. “Is that so?”

“Mmmhm,” Etho drawls. “I’m real deep into some equations that I can’t wrap my head around. It’s this long complicated thing that’s supposed to help determine scale and size of the fractal-izing of light, and how we can use planetary distances to figure it out.”

Bdubs blinks, scoffing.

“Etho,” he hums.

“I’m trying to figure out how this could be relevant for our growing seasons and how I can best predict rainfall in the valley—”

“Etho—”

“And I’m sure Tango will want to know all about it considering he’s making that huge telescope, don’t you think—”

Bdubs thwaps his head laughing.

“Quit!”

Etho laughs, reaching back to grab at Bdubs hands on his head. They swat uselessly at each other for a moment.

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you, Etho?” Bdubs grumbles.

“You’re just jealous because I understand math,” Etho jeers. “It has nothing to do with how smart I am.”

“Sure it doesn’t,” Bdubs huffs. “I bet you read the almanac in your spare time!”

Etho gasps, but the gravitas and dramatic turn he does to worm away from Bdubs is enough to hint that he’s doing it for a reason. He scrambles back, tucking his book behind him as he does. Blue cover. Bdubs doesn’t know many books with a blue cover. Maybe it is the almanac after all.

“How dare you insult my knowledge of flowers, Bdubs!” Etho gasps. “I just know all those things.”

“All those things about the regional weather, too?”

Etho nods, trying to hold back a smile. Liar.

“Mhm,” he says. “All of it. I’ve known it since I was a wee little boy, ‘Dubs.”

Bdubs rolls his eyes.

“I’m sure,” he placates. “Nothin’ to do with how we just moved here a year and a half ago, no?”

Etho shakes his head.

“Not at all. I’ve known it all my life,” Etho says. He can’t fight the smile this time, or the way he draws out the a of his word, his smile growing with it. He finally cracks enough to giggle and Bdubs swats his knee. Etho sticks his tongue out at him.

“And what’s the almanac say about me?” Bdubs asks, watching Etho shuffle back into his corner, looking comfortable. He tilts his head a little, eyebrows furrowing.

“You?” Etho says. “I don’t know. Nothing—I’ve never read it. I doubt they put people in it.” Then Etho smiles, adding: “I can check my book on 100 facts about B-double-O, though.”

Bdubs startles.

“Your book on what?”

Etho snorts, tipping his head back, laughter bubbling out of him. Bdubs jabs him with his socked foot and Etho curls further into himself, still giggling. Bdubs can’t help but smile, though, watching Etho break into a giggling fit over his stupid comment. He rolls his eyes as he peels himself off the couch and over to their bookshelf. Standing there for a moment, feeling the cold seep slightly into his clothes, Bdubs scans for a book. He isn’t sure what he’s looking for yet, but he’ll know it when he sees it.

In the meantime, he halfway searches for that obviously fake book Etho had mentioned. He snorts, just to himself. A hundred facts, huh?

Plucking one of his well-worn novels from the shelf, Bdubs turns back to the couch. He drops a kiss to the crown of Etho’s head as he passes and Etho is quick enough to pull him down to kiss his cheek. It’s worth it, though, as Bdubs tucks himself back against the other side of the couch and Etho’s legs tangle with his. He loves the stupid smile on Etho’s face too much to care about much else.

#ethubs #ethoslab #bdoubleo100 #hermitshipping #hermitcraft #hermitcraft fic #fics #text #mcyt #mcyt fic #help girl how do all my aus start out with ethubs < THIS IS NOT AN AU #NOT ONE THAT I SHOULD CONTINUE THAT IS #green valley au #< haha ignore that #direct shout out to myke and shep who enabled this and also gave several good ideas #like the stupid bdubs book. and the images myke sent. ill and sick i say

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wendeeesaucy · 9 months

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Tali, Garrus, and Shep reunion convo - ME3

#i feel like shep is both jealous and not jealous about things but idk??#she shows a lil jealously during the citadel dlc date but doesn't say anything to this or mordin's convo with eve #maybe she expresses it when it's just them cuz i'd think garrus would love that shep is jealous for him just as much as he would for her #is there fics of that? pls let me knowwww #shakarian #garrus x shepard #garrus x femshep #femshep x garrus #mass effect garrus #garrus #commander shepard #femshep #garrus vakarian #mele #mass effect legendary edition #mass effect #selene shepard

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bruhman745 · 2 years

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wrote another short for @shepscapades ethubs dbhc au!! highly recommend reading her comic (and looking at her AMAZING art) before reading!

[FIC BELOW READ MORE!]

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“Bdubs.”

“Yes, my love?”

Etho smiled.

“I have a theory.”

Bdubs looked up at Etho from his place on the dirt, already pulling off his gardening gloves.

“A theory? What, you a scientist or something?” he snickered. Etho offered him a hand to get to his feet, and he took it.

“If I’m a scientist, I’m not a very good one,” he chuckled. “But I guess I’m just curious. You wanna test it out with me?”

They had been more than a human and his android friend for a while now, so Etho had taken to his own head to do a bit of… personal research. He wanted to show more affection in the way humans did, just to show Bdubs how much he cared, and he’d found some, confusing but interesting results. After looking into it further and diving deep into some sketchy forums, he was pretty sure this would work.

Bdubs rose an eyebrow, frowning.

“With you?” He narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “This isn’t something… weird, is it? Because that’s the vibe I’m getting here!”

Etho rose an eyebrow.

“Weird? How so?”

“Like- Like, I dunno! It seems like you’re propositioning me for somethin’!”

“Is that what you think of me? Wow, Bdubs-”

“No, no no! Don’t you twist my words-” Bdubs huffed, then stamped his foot in the dirt. “Gah! You always do this! Seriously, they make you things way too smart-” He pinched his brows. “Nevermind. You can’t just ask me to test something with you while looking at me like- Like that! It’s weird, and you’re making Bdubs’ mind go to places Bdubs’ mind shouldn’t!”

Etho blinked.

“Looking at you like what?” He wasn’t making a face, was he? Bdubs couldn’t even see half of his face! There was no way he could tell what he was thinking just by looking at his eyes-

“Nevermind! Let’s just-” Bdubs waved a hand and turned, “-go do whatever it is you want me to. Make this quick, though – I’ve got moss to get back to!”

“Your moss will be just fine, don’t worry,” Etho smiled, taking Bdubs’ hand to lead him back to the house.

They got a few feet further before Bdubs grumbled, “I can walk myself, y’know,” but he didn’t let go.

Etho led him inside and shut the door. He let Bdubs set his things down and get comfortable, watching him quietly. Eventually, Bdubs stopped trotting around, absentmindedly mumbling to himself, and stood in front of Etho again with his hands on his hips. He narrowed his eyes again.

"What's this experiment then, huh? You gonna strap me to a table and probe me or something?"

"If that's what you want, then-"

"No! Don't finish that sentence! I don't want that at all!"

Etho laughed, "Really? Are you-"

"Yes I'm sure!" Bdubs poked him in the chest. "Just get on with it!"

Etho stepped closer to Bdubs, studying him for a moment. He noted that his body temperature had risen, his face subtly flushed, but didn't think much of it. He was just outside working all day, after all. It only made sense.

"Close your eyes."

Bdubs frowned.

"What, are you gonna rob me or something? You know I've got nothin' worth robbing!" He crossed his arms over his chest, moss shedding from his sleeves with the movement. Etho made a note to buy a lint roller later.

"I know. I carry your things for you,” he deadpanned, earning some more disgruntled noises from Bdubs.

“Ugh, fine! I guess I’ll do it,” he huffed and turned his nose up. He squeezed his eyes shut, and Etho watched him carefully. He waited, just a few seconds, and Bdubs peeked just one eye open.

“Liar,” he teased, and Bdubs threw his arms up.

“You didn’t do anything! You’re tellin’ me to close my eyes and then not doing anything, how am I not gonna look?! You could be stealing my stuff!”

“What stuff?”

“Oh you-” Bdubs snapped his mouth shut, cutting himself off, then turned. He walked a little circle before planting himself right back in the same spot, reassuming his arms-crossed stance. “Fine, I’ll actually close my eyes this time. Happy?”

Etho watched him shut his eyes a second time and smiled, “Very.”

He waited another moment and, when Bdubs didn’t open his eyes again, he stepped closer.

Careful, he thought. It is a delicate process for humans to get to this step in their relationships. I cannot mess this up.

He brought his hand up to gently grace Bdubs’ cheek, fingers brushing warm skin. He caught the sharp inhale from the other, and he hesitated.

“Is this alright?”

Bdubs just nodded, his jaw taught and shoulders tense. Etho worried he’d overstepped.

“I need verbal confirmation.” He didn’t, but he wanted it.

“Yes- I said make this quick, didn’t I?”

Etho hummed, “Yes, you can’t leave your moss waiting.”

His fingers slid further back, his palm cupping Bdubs’ face. He was warm to the touch, and for a moment Etho worried he was developing a fever when he remembered that this was normal in this situation. He dipped his hand down to trace Bdubs’ jaw, pausing as he felt the pulse pick up beneath his touch.

120 BPM, he measured. Interesting.

He pressed his palm to Bdubs’ skin, cupping his cheek. He felt him shift his weight, eyes catching the way he moved his foot over the floor, his hand slipping from Bdubs’ face as he moved away.

“Hold still for me,” Etho instructed. He couldn’t do this properly if Bdubs continued to squirm.

“I am!”

“You’re not, though.”

Bdubs huffed through his nose, then promptly stopped his fidgeting.

“Thank you,” Etho hummed softly. He swiped his thumb over Bdubs’ skin, and realized he was just stalling. He knew why; Bdubs was human, and he wasn’t. As much research as he’d done couldn’t equal natural ability – instinct. No matter how hard he tried, he could never quite understand fully.

But this could be the first step to trying, and he knew trying was better than nothing. He couldn’t mess this up; he had to take it slow.

Unluckily for him, Bdubs happened to be one of the most impatient people on earth.

“Is this the theory? Are you reading my mind or something? I didn’t give you permission to read my mind – you don’t wanna know what goes on in there!” he rambled. “Not that it’s anything bad, I just don’t think you could handle it. Bdubs’ mind is powerful, you know.”

Etho laughed.

“Shhh. I’m sure it is, but you know I can’t read minds. We’ve been over this before.”

“I know, but you could be lyin’ to me! You’ve done it before-”

“Not on purpose.”

“-and you wouldn’t hesitate to do it again!”

Etho was quickly realizing that if he wanted Bdubs to be quiet, he’d have to make him. He leaned in closer, their faces inches apart. He used his free hand to pull down his mask.

“Bdubs.”

He watched the other’s mouth stop before he said another word, shutting for a moment before he spoke.

“What? What is it? Do I have something on my face?”

Etho was quiet for a moment, then remembered something he’d found in his research. Perfect. He smirked.

“You don’t, and that’s the problem.”

He closed the distance between their lips finally, ignoring the warning flashing at the edge of his vision. He could hear the thirium rushing through his body; he could almost feel Bdubs’ lips against his. Almost.

Their kiss was short, though, because Bdubs quickly shoved him away to an arm’s length, hands grabbing Etho’s shoulders in what could only be bewilderment. His eyes were wide, his mouth was open, and his face was flushed bright red.

“What the hell are you doing?! Why- What-” he stumbled over his words, barely able to form a sentence. “You’re- You just kissed me! Why?! Why would you do that?!”

Etho blinked. He drew his hand back.

“Is that… Is kissing not, okay? I thought-”

“I don’t care what you thought! Why would you do that?! You’re- You’re-” Bdubs stuttered, hands not leaving Etho’s shoulders. Etho dreaded the words he was stuck on, his chest aching already. He wished it was just his thirium pump acting up.

“I’m… not human. I know.” He finished the sentence for him, eyes cast to the ground. “I read that it’s something you do when you want to show affection for someone. I can’t really, you know, do that in the way I would, uh, as an android, with you.” He looked up again, putting a hand over Bdubs’ as he met his eyes. “I overstepped, I’m sorry.”

Bdubs just stared at him, blank-faced. Etho searched his features, trying to find any hint that his apology had been accepted, but Bdubs only blinked.

Then, he laughed.

“Whaat? What are you talking about?” He dropped his hands from Etho’s shoulders. “I’m not mad! I just- I don’t get where all this is comin’ from! I mean, first off, it’s weird kissin’ you- Not in a bad way! Just- I don’t think you were made for that. Your lips are all weird and rubbery and-”

Etho sighed in relief, hanging his head. He put a hand on Bdubs’ shoulder, balancing himself as he laughed loud. Bdubs stopped rambling and frowned.

“What? What’s so funny? Why are you laughing?”

Etho just shook his head, chuckling.

“I’m just so relieved!" he gasped, though he didn't even need the air. "I thought you hated me for a second!"

"I couldn't hate you! If I hated you, you would'a been gone a long time ago, I'll tell you that much." He turned his nose up, then gave Etho a quizzical look. "I just don't get it. You can't even feel any of- well, that! Why kiss me if you're gettin' nothing outta it? It doesn't make any sense!"

Etho's laughter died off, but he let his hand linger on Bdubs' shoulder. He processed the question for a moment, then looked the other in his eyes again.

"I do feel it, though. I'm not supposed to, but I do."

Bdubs rose an eyebrow. He stepped just a pace closer.

"Really? How?" He tilted his head just a few degrees to the right, the action catching Etho's eyes easily. He stared for a moment, fondness warming a smile on his face, before he answered.

"This." He pointed to the damage on the left of his face, touching the part closest to his lips. "It's not a lot, but since I never got it repaired, I have touch sensations here."

Bdubs nodded, hand on his chin as he hummed and thought for a moment. Etho dropped his hand from his shoulder.

"Really? So…" He stepped closer. Etho took the cue, leaning down so they were eye level. "So if I kissed you here, you'd feel it more?"

He put a hand up, just brushing the damaged area. Etho felt it, the warmth of Bdubs' skin flooding his face.

It was… different. Not weird. Just different.

"Yes," he breathed, afraid to move too much.

A warning flashed, "Thirium Pump Irregularity Detected."

Shut up.

Bdubs grinned. His hand pulled Etho's face in closer. Their lips brushed.

"I don't need 'verbal confirmation' for this, do I?"

Etho smiled, "No, you don't."

#dbhc au #ethubs #hermitshipping #shep ur au is making me insane #so im going to make everyone else insane by writing for it #mwah <3 #there will be a continuation to this btw #hermitcraft fic #takes place in s8 btw #if u notice a detail yes its on purpose

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briseise · 1 year

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It's the end of the world. [x]

as always some detail

linked above is fic by @oh-snapperss, go read it to understand context!

#cw blood #briseiseart #ethoslab #llsmp #traffic smp #companion piece to laurie's fic!!! pls enjoy hehehehehe #i am not liable for any distress i cause hehhehe #wow etho for once youre left alone in the mess you caused(?)#sorry shep

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skellymom · 3 months

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"Return To Pabu" Part 1

Companion piece to "Cup Of Caf"

To read "Cup Of Caf":

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/735755898541277184/a-cup-of-caf-the-bad-batch-crosshair-one?source=share

Background: The Batch returns to Pabu with Crosshair in tow. How will he adapt?

The reader (main character) from Cup Of Caf is mentioned. This story is from the point of view of The Batch and Crosshair.

(My OC Maadienne "Mad Momma" Dax makes an appearance as Hunter's love interest. Since this story takes place in an alternate universe from "Vagabonds", Love, Sil, and Tiggy do not make an appearance.)

Word Count: 1.1K

Warning: None. Angst, sadness, fluff. Passionate kissing and types of romantic relationships other than Cishet.

Lovely dividers by the talented @saradika

The Havoc Marauder skimmed over the jewel toned waters of Pabu. Echo was at the controls, humming to himself. The only other sound than Wrecker snoring from the seat behind him. Omega had been snuggled up in his arms securely but lovingly after the escape from Mt Tantiss. When Wrecker had passed out, she climbed into the copilot's seat next to Echo. He occasionally smiled and stroked her hair.

Behind them sat Crosshair with Hunter passed out in his lap, both brothers in embrace and sleeping. Hunter immediately fell into a deep sleep as soon as the Batch was out of harm’s way. Cross rested his cheek on the top of his shorter brother’s head and fell back asleep. Occasionally, Crosshair would awaken to make sure Hunter was still with him, give his brother a gentle squeeze...then drift off. Hunter sighed in his sleep and squeezed back.

Phee Genoa trailed behind the Marauder in her ship. Tech rested on a stretcher next to her, holding hands, fingers intertwined. He babbled nonstop to Phee about everything: The mission to Mt Tantiss, his fall, his infiltration of Hemlock’s laboratory. She listened intently peppering in the occasional, “Mhmm” “Yeah” or “Oh Brown Eyes.”

Both ships arrived at the island and touched down. Hunter awakened and sleepily stood. Omega hopped down and hugged Echo fiercely.

“You’re staying with us...right?” Her large brown eyes pleading with him.

“For a little while. At least until Rex needs me.”

Omega squeezed Echo HARD and held on. He embraced her gently.

Hunter stooped down and kissed the top of Omega's head then poked Wrecker awake.

“Huh...uh...here SO SOON?” Wrecker stretched and cracked his back.

“Been out for quite some time.” Hunter chuckled. “C’mon, let’s help Phee get Tech off her ship.”

“Yep, I got it.” Wrecker stole a glance at Echo and Omega. He smiled then playfully smacked Crosshair on his shoulder. “Come check out your new home.”

Crosshair refused to open his eyes. “I’m in no hurry.” He sneered at Wrecker as his brother exited the ship.

Hunter glanced down at Crosshair. Cross opened one eye to stare back at Hunter. They both grinned at each other. Then Hunter followed Wrecker to Phee’s ship.

She had yet to lower the gangplank for entry...which seemed strange.

“Their heart rates are elevated. Hope everything is ok.” Hunter was concerned.

“Here, step up.” Wrecker stooped down on one knee, allowing Hunter to step up. He grabbed Hunter’s feet and lifted him high enough to see into the ship’s cockpit.

“OH!” Hunter gave a surprise gasp and chuckled...

Phee and Tech were locked in a passionate embrace, neither one aware of Hunter peeping through the ship’s windscreen at them.

“Bring me down, Wrecker.”

Wrecker caught Hunter’s flushed face and burst out laughing, while dropping the sergeant to the ground. “WELL, IT’S ABOUT TIME!”

Hunter cleared his throat...then felt a familiar presence behind him. He spun to face...Maadienne Dax. She was leaning against the Pabu Archium Tree and had been watching the whole interaction with a sly smile.

“Hey Hunky.”

Hunter was love-struck and relieved that she was still on Pabu and waited for him. He knew her restless nature. The Nomaadi never stayed in one place for too long.

They tentatively stepped toward one another. Then swept up in an amorous embrace, gently rubbing noses, leaning in for a serious deep kiss, mouths parted.

“Omega!” Lyana and a group of other children ran up to the ships.

“Lyana!” Omega released Echo, jumped out of the Marauder to greet them.

They mobbed past Shep who waved in greeting. “Hello Miss Omega. Relieved to have you back!”

“You too, Shep! Sorry, gotta go!!!” as the children dragged her away towards the town.

Shep stopped and met Wreckers gaze. “Hello to you, too.”

Wrecker grinned from ear to ear and gently took Shep Hazard into his arms and lovingly kissed him.

Crosshair and Echo watched all of this silently from the inside of the Marauder. There was a palpable yearning in the air.

“You have someone here on this planet too?”

Echo was taken aback that Crosshair would suddenly ask that type of question.

“No...” Echo sighed longingly. “She’s back on Coruscant. Well, she’s not MINE per se...” He rubbed the back of his neck. “...a VERY close friend. You leave anyone behind...back there?”

Crosshair’s expression changed to intense sorrow. Echo immediately regretted his inquiry. “Apologies. None of my business...”

“Back on Barton IV...he didn’t survive The Empire.”

“My condolences, friend.” Echo hesitated, then reached out to put his hand on Crosshair’s shoulder.

Cross gazed up at Echo with moist eyes. “Thank you, Vod.”

Phee eventually lowered the gangplank and engaged Tech’s hover stretcher to bring him out. Both wore flushed complexions with a twinkle in their eyes. Mad hugged Phee and was introduced to Tech. The women picked up where they left before the mission with an enthusiastic gaggle of conversation. Reunions with Wrecker and Echo commenced. Shep informed everyone a large dinner was waiting at his home on the patio, after everyone freshened up of course.

Crosshair, being the last to exit the Marauder, timidly stepped out. He didn’t feel like part of the merry group and unsure how to make his entrance. He quietly stood and took in each interaction with his snipers calculating eye. Shep stepped up to Crosshair and offered his hand.

“Finally get to meet the famous Crosshair. Glad to have you here on Pabu.”

Crosshair nodded quietly but didn’t take Shep’s hand. Shep was a good sport about it, chuckled, shrugged, and followed up with, “Look forward to you joining us for dinner tonight.” before stepping away to reunite with Wrecker.

Hunter put his hand on Shep’s arm “Don’t mind him. He’ll come around.”

“Understandably he needs time. Most of the inhabitants here did when they first arrived too.”

Dinner was lovely.

Crosshair sat quietly and ate very little, while taking in the conversation around the table. He watched the happy faces of the couples and friends interacting with each other. The loudness, emotion, intensity of it all.

His head hurt, heart ached, and yearned to escape it. Cross silently excused himself and sat alone on the patio overlooking the island. Hunter paused from his drinking, concerned.

Echo leaned in, “I’ve got this. Enjoy your time with Mad.”

Hunter nodded, still concerned, but snaked his arm around Mad and squeezed. She unconsciously reached up and caressed Hunter’s cheek while laughing at the table conversation.

Echo poured two stiff after dinner drinks and took them to the patio. He settled into a seat next to Crosshair, handing him a cup. Cross nodded in thanks. They both sat silently nursing their drinks and watched the sun set over Pabu.

PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!

To read "Return to Pabu" Part 2

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/740838054339723264/return-to-pabu-part-2?source=share

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kaidanalenkosprmanager · 23 days

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THE BEST OF PRIORITY: MARS (PART 1)

Featuring: Cmdr. Sophie Shepard, Maj. Kaidan Alenko, Lt. James Vega, and Dr. Liara T'Soni Sophie, I don't know what you are- or who. Not since Cerberus rebuilt you. For all I know, you could be their puppet- controlled by The Illusive Man himself. Mass Effect 3: Legendary Edition (2021)

#mira makes gifs ✨#shenko #james vega #kaidan alenko #sophie shepard #liara t’soni #mass effect #mass effect 3 #me3 #mass effect legendary edition #dailygaming #priority mars? more like priority shenko!#she’s a 2-parter bc there were too many good scenes to gif i literally couldn’t not gif all of them tbh #like mars is just peak shenko content even if it’s not canon to me #the expressions the conversations the glances the PINING it’s everything to me #the way shep looks at kaidan when they talk about what they’d lose if they fail 🥺#bioware i am in your WALLS over that scene in particular #‘is this what they did to you?’ sends me to ANOTHER DIMENSION and i need to write a whole ass fic off that line alone #bc it’s so good and there’s so many emotions tied to it #like the entire conversation between the two of them there is literally emotional damage for me and even if it’s not my canon it’s so GOOD #also PV with the see through visors saving my life on the elevator ride too?? like the expressions are so good #and cleric’s gorgeous shadow broker guardian set too like???#the fashion is just top notch for all these emotional moments #on a side note s/o to james for literally being in the middle of the most awkward couple’s spat in existence and being so casual about it #he’s everything to me tbh #him and kaidan are my loves #james vega and kaidan alenko men that you are #i’ll stop ranting in the part 1 tags now ✨

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riyo-soka · 2 months

Text

My new crack pairing is Shep x Crosshair. Does it make sense? Not in the slightest. Is it entirely based on the episode 5 opening where Shep and Lyanna keep tracking down Crosshair to offer him fruit baskets? Yeah pretty much. But if Tech can get a swashbuckling pirate gf like Phee, I see no reason why Crosshair’s snarky ass can’t have a friendly devoted family man husband.

#the bad batch #tbb spoilers #tbb crosshair #shep hazard #I’m just saying. imagine the shenanigans. imagine the dynamics #imagine Crosshair being a stepdad #I’ve already got the 5+1 fic drafted in my head #crosshep #that’s the name I’ve decided

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fanfoolishness · 16 days

Note

starlight + hunter? :)

Please enjoy! This ended up being a little longer. Hunter walks beneath the stars of Pabu, set in season 2. :)

The Soldier

He isn’t sleeping well.

It doesn’t make much sense, objectively. Pabu is the safest world they’ve been on in months, maybe in their lives. It’s a paradise here. The people are genuinely kind, grateful to them for all of their help during the sea surge. Omega runs and plays and laughs, and he keeps losing her in crowds of dozens of other children, all unique. Hunter knows he should be sleeping better than ever in a place of such security.

But night after night he wakes up after a few hours of uneasy, broken sleep, and eventually gets up, going on walks alone.

He lets the night-voice of this world wash over him as he walks the mountainside. He’s used to the blending of a place’s scents, sounds, light spectrum, gravity, weather all combining into a particular signature. Pabu is painted in a rich new palette, and he walks through it in the dark, memorizing it on his own.

There’s the ever-present lap of the waves on the shore; during the day he’d have to go to Lower Pabu to pick out the sounds in the maze of the village’s ambient noise, but here in the quiet it’s easy for him to hear, even hundreds of feet from the shore. It mingles with the songs of tree-crickets and the chatter of sea-bats.

There’s the scents of the large shade-trees, green vines bearing lush fruits on the sides of homes, the smells of sand and surf and leaf. He breathes deep of all of it, marveling at the lack of oil, exhaust, ozone.

There’s the mercurial breeze, sometimes sweet and gentle from the south-southwest, sometimes a bold blast from the wild north seas, sometimes a constant gust from the utter west. It dances over his face, flutters his hair against his neck and cheeks.

There’s the low-pitched hum of tectonic plates deep in the stone, the deep and vital shift just barely palpable when he lays his hand on stone. It always makes him pause; he stops, digs his palm against the stone wall, prays for the sake of the people here that there will not be another quake.

There’s the starlight. It’s still so strange to see a starfield unmarred by the steady stream of ships, the lights of landing fields. Countless constellations smatter the darkness in white and twinkling gold. He wonders if Tech knows their names already, if Crosshair could see them in incredible detail.

One night he turns at the top of the stairs. The wind has shifted; someone is coming up behind him, though they exercise no attempt at stealth. Hunter takes a pace forward and pauses as the person steps beneath a string of glowing lights on the veranda above. It’s only Shep.

“Can’t sleep?” Shep asks kindly. “This isn’t the first time I’ve seen you making the rounds.”

Hunter shrugs. “I’m just not used to it here. It’s so…” Peaceful. “Quiet.”

“And you seem restless. A tough combination,” Shep observes. “Do you ever watch the stars?”

“Sometimes. More to scan for any potential threats than for the stars themselves, I suppose.”

“That’s about what I thought,” says Shep. He points up to the sky, to an arc of bright white points loosely near each other. “You see that up there?”

He squints. “Sort of. Is it supposed to be something?”

“That’s the Soldier,” says Shep.

“Really now.”

Shep gives him a rueful smile. “Hey, I didn’t name them.” He gestures, drawing a hint of an outline. Hunter studies the stars above them. If he tilts his head to the side, he supposes he can see something like a figure up above, holding a sword, or maybe a rifle.

“If you say so,” he says.

“In the stories, the Soldier is a tragic figure,” Shep says. “Doomed to wander the skies. It’s one of the easiest constellations you can see shift with the seasons. Sometimes it seems like he’s never in the same place twice.” He turns to Hunter. “It must be hard to settle down after seeing so much.”

The stars glitter above them. The Soldier’s rifle swings high; his feet march onward. Hunter lets out a long breath. “Yeah. I guess it is.”

Shep reaches out, squeezes his shoulder before letting his hand fall. “I hope it gets easier. You and your family deserve it.” He nods to him. “Try to get some sleep, Hunter.” He heads back the way he came, and Hunter’s left alone beneath the stars.

He slowly makes his way back to the ship. For a moment, he thinks about asking Tech in the morning if there really is a constellation here called the Soldier. But the more he thinks about it, the more he decides he doesn’t need to know.

He climbs back into bed, the sounds of night-crickets and waves in his ears. He falls into a deep and dreamless sleep, and when he finally wakes again, the sun is high and the stars are long forgotten.

#hunter the bad batch #hunter tbb #tbb hunter #the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #my batcher fic #fic prompts #shep #pabu #shep hazard

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oh-snapperss · 1 year

Note

hi for no particular reason and prompted by nothing in particular i'm begging for ethubs fluff. cmfort. occzy. cozy. pelase. please. pleas sfot. sfot comfy cozy soft please

anyway love you laurie <3 looking forward to totally NOT being carnally emotionally injured by your words in the very near future <333333333

omg hii shep. you asked me for a nightmare/comfort fic and uh. oh boy! i hope you like nightmare scenes!

this fic is based off the new half alive song, high up<3

Words: 3013

Read on AO3

CW: blood, nightmares, dead person (only in the nightmare), some unreality/disorienting scenes, general horror vibes?? i swear this is comfort in here LMAO

-------------------------------

Things start out quite simple. The dark surrounds Etho. Etho waits to respawn. It’s nothing new, he must’ve been in the void between respawns a hundred, no, a million times.

As more time passes, and no respawn happens, Etho finally feels a spark of fear. The darkness of the void hasn’t ever been particularly appealing, especially since he’s been falling in it for hours. There’s no wind, no melody, no noise at all to help break the crushing feeling of the void.

Is he trapped here? Where was he before this? How long has it been? Where is Bdubs?

he is falling and alone and falling and still alone and falling and falling and–

“Wake up, wake up!”

His shoulder is being shaken, he’s not in the void, he’s… he’s lying down. There’s a quilt over the lower half of his body, twisted in such a way it’s clear either him or Bdubs has been thrashing about. There’s a snuffed out candle on the nightstand beside him, and the room is swathed in shadows and a stillness only found in the middle of the night. Chest heaving, heart pounding, it’s all he can do to keep himself from–

Bdubs.

He flips around, quilt still tangled in his legs, and comes face to face with a dead man.

Blood drips from Bdubs’ shoulder, and Etho knows the warmth on his side is more blood seeping into his shirt from the second arrow wound in Bdubs’ side. Bdubs’ grins, two teeth missing, and his black eye is… well, it’s certainly not comforting.

“Bad dream, sweetheart?” Bdubs croons, and his voice is all wrong. It’s not his Bdubs. This Bdubs has a smile too wide. “Bad dreams, when you couldn’t even keep me alive? When you were too selfish to care?”

This Bdubs reaches a hand towards Etho, caressing his cheek with a gentleness Etho is certain he shouldn’t possess. But then Etho feels a stickiness against his cheek, and registers the warmth of blood on his face. Etho scrambles backwards, unable to help the gut reaction of panic and disgust and get that off NOW! He falls off the bed, trapped between the bed and the wall. Grasping at nothing, he tries to fly to his feet to run, but the quilt is still twisted around his legs. It holds him there, a sitting duck and keeping him from getting OUT-

He pulls upward with the nightstand, and…

The blanket is gone, along with the bed. He’s in the woods. There’s a splish-splash of running water nearby, and Etho heaves a sigh of relief at the thought of washing the blood off his face. The moon overhead is full, casting the jungle with more light than most nights.

Etho moves towards the water, although as he draws near, he realizes it’s flowing a lot slower than any creek he’s ever seen. Kneeling down, twigs pressing into his shins uncomfortably, he reaches down towards the dark liquid, mesmerized at the red color. Somewhere in his mind, a warning bell sounds. Is water red?

Something is wrong.

“Etho?”

“No, no, no, no-” It takes less than a second to turn around, stumble backwards, away from his husband, away from the stench that can only come from a decomposing body. Bdubs limps forward, and the leaves around him turn red from the blood still dripping from the three arrows embedded in his body.

“You could have stopped this, cutie,” Bdubs smiles again, and Etho wants to throw up at how disgustingly un-Bdubs his expression is.

Etho keeps scooting backwards, unable to tear his eyes away from his lover, from… the thing his lover has become.

“Urgh!” Etho yelps as his hand dips into the creek. It’s not cold or refreshing, it’s warm, and as he throws himself further back from Bdubs, his other hand gets covered too. When he stands, breaking into a sprint, a cursory glance downward almost makes him scream. His hands are covered in blood.

“Wait for me, don’t leave me again.”

God, he doesn’t want to, he wants to turn around and be brave, but there’s no saving Bdubs in his state, and–

And Etho is a coward.

And it’s Etho’s fault.

When he trips on the vines he’s hardly surprised. The jungle always did seem sinister (was he in a jungle before?), and as they wrap around his legs, forcing him down to the ground, holding him still, tightening around his waist… it's all he can do to keep struggling. He pulls and pulls at the vines, but they wrap around his hands too, forcing him still to face… face his own…

“Don’t run away, my dear!”

Etho snaps his gaze up from the vines now reaching his waist, and there he is. There’s more blood on Bdubs now.

“‘Dubs… I tried to save–” Etho begins to plead, but Not-Bdubs cuts him off with a snarl, and lunges forward, hands outstretched and–

And…

The vines release him, and it’s… he’s not in the jungle anymore.

It’s still night, but he’s in the shopping district now. The place feels silent, but Etho knows it must be late. Huh. Maybe he should go home? Etho’s never been one to fall asleep randomly, but… he must have been out just slightly too late and exhausted himself. Man, he’s not even sure what project he was working on today.

Okay, bed time.

Etho reaches for his rockets, and then realizes he doesn’t have any. That’s odd.

Wait, hang on… this is the wrong season. He’s in the Big-Eyes shopping district, and… and the ground is shaking.

Glancing up at the sky, Etho realizes.

It’s the end of the world.

Chunks of grass fly into the air, followed by rocks and bits of builds. Etho’s pretty sure there’s a flying pig. The ground shakes, and it takes a second for him to regain his balance. He grabs onto the nearest wood pole to keep himself from tripping over, then clutches it for dear life when he feels himself float upwards towards the ginormous moon in the sky.

There’s fires breaking out, and Etho can hear the distant screams of villagers and animals as meteorites crush them before the moon itself can. One of the shops nearby breaks into pieces, and his arm is grazed by a flying bit of wood. Etho winces as his feet hit the ground with more weight than needed, but then he’s tearing down the steps and toward the water. He’s gotta get out of here.

BOOM. Etho stops short at the wave bearing down on him from whatever just hit the sea, and just manages to avoid being soaked through and crushed by it.

Was the water… was it red? Why was the water red? Why is he even here? Hadn’t Bdubs been the only one left when–

“Bdubs!” gasps Etho, and this time he hears it.

Beyond the screaming, the spray of water, the sound of the literal apocalypse, there’s a jukebox playing.

This time, Etho doesn’t run.

The familiar tune guides him, feet carrying him to the place he’s only ever been told of. Bdubs had told him what happened, once, with tears on his face and fear in his eyes. He stayed because Etho had promised he would be there.

His feet move on their own. Etho knows where Bdubs was at the end, and as his feet carry him around the final corner, he’s proven right.

His husband stands alone, facing away from Etho and towards the moon. The jukebox is beside him, and… and Bdubs flinches when a rock hits the ground at his feet.

There are three arrows sticking out of him still. All of them are in his back, and the blood dripping down from his body makes a grotesque pool at his feet. Something keeps Etho from stepping any closer, and yet he can’t make himself flee.

“He promised he would come,” mutters Bdubs, and his fingers turn white where they clench the moss cloak Etho has come to associate him with.

I’m here, Etho wants to scream, I wanted to save you, I would have come–

“No you wouldn’t. And you didn’t.” Bdubs turns to face him with soulless eyes and an expression devoid of life. “You weren’t here, you didn’t care, don’t lie to me.”

Etho sinks to his knees, because Bdubs is right that he wasn’t there, he wasn’t there and Bdubs was alone and died and it’s all his own fault, it’s Etho’s fault, and–

“Go on and run,” Bdubs commands, and there’s something in his unforgiving and emotionless tone that sets Etho free. “Go and be selfish, go home, Etho.”

Etho glares up at the sky, in time to see the moon fill the entire sky.

It doesn’t crush him, but he’s helpless when it crushes Bdubs, burying him under rock and rubble and broken promises.

“Etho? Etho!”

The sound of screaming fills the air, and Etho thrashes to get away, get away from it, run–

(There’s a snuffed out candle on the bedside table. The room is cast in shadows not unlike before.)

“Etho, hey now-” A familiar voice comforts him (comfort? No, that can’t be right), and a hand lands on his shoulder. Etho can only move backwards get AWAY–

He wheezes, unable to catch his breath. “No, please, no–”

It’s his fault it’s his fault Bdubs died and it’s all his fault he could have saved Bdubs but he was too selfish.

“Shh, shh, it’s fine, what’s wrong?” Bdubs stares at him with far more concern than Etho deserves. The screaming has stopped, and Etho realizes belatedly it was his own cries.

It’s then he realizes that this Bdubs isn’t covered in blood, and is real, although Etho’s legs are tangled in their quilt just like before. He kicks away the quilt, sending it tumbling over the foot of their bed with too much force.

Bdubs is in front of him, breathing and alive. His lip is trembling slightly, and there’s no sign of the arrows or black eye… and it’s not–

“Moon big?” Etho croaks, and Bdubs eyes widen. His arms circle himself, tugging at his sleeves. It’s a nervous habit Bdubs picked up at some point when Etho wasn’t around, and already Etho wants to kick himself, he knows better than to–

“No… moon is small tonight,” Bdubs confirms, as though to reassure himself. Etho sags in relief, before stiffening again. He’s got no right to feel fear at the moon when it was Bdubs who died by it.

“You gonna tell me what–” Bdubs gestures at him, “--all this is about?”

Bdubs is right, Etho’s in a state. Between his haggard breathing, shivering violently against the cool breeze coming from the window, and general panic, it’s obvious Etho isn’t ok.

He doesn’t have a right to comfort though, does he? Not when he left Bdubs, he let him die not once but multiple times, he broke his promises and Bdubs suffered for it.

“...’m fine,” Etho chokes out, and he forces back the tears still growing at the edge of his eyes.

“You’re lying,” Bdubs says, frowning at him. Etho wants to rip his hand away when Bdubs takes it between both of his, gently massaging it. “What’s goin’ on?”

But he can’t, he can’t speak, he should be comforting Bdubs, hell, he shouldn’t even be in their bed after the way he’s betrayed Bdubs, he doesn’t deserve forgiveness.

A strangled noise makes its way out of his throat, and as much as Etho wants to be held, he pulls away.

He ignores the hurt in Bdubs’ eyes. He deserves to hold someone better.

And yet, Bdubs just sits there, legs crossed on the bed and waiting. He lets Etho breathe for a few more minutes, hands still hovering where Etho pulled away.

“Etho…” Bdubs tries again. “You know… you can tell me anything?” He reaches forward again, wrapping his hands around both of Etho’s hands. Etho is too weak to pull away. He wants to be held, he wants it so badly and he’s so selfish for it.

“You’re still cryin’, sweetheart,” Bdubs squeezes Etho’s right hand, then drops it to move his hand to Etho’s face. He wipes at Etho’s cheek, wiping away the tears that Etho hadn’t realized were still rolling down his face. “Whatever happened, better to talk about it, don’t ya think?”

“I shouldn’t,” Etho whispers, and he knows he’s right. His chest aches and aches, and it’s deserved. His own to bear.

“Why not? I wanna hear,” Bdubs blinks at him, and the corners of his lips turn upward into a mimicry of a smile. “You know I love you?”

“But you shouldn’t!” Etho bursts out, startling Bdubs into lurching slightly backwards. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to–” he cuts himself off with a groan and a hiccuping sob.

“No, no, it’s okay!” Bdubs recovers quickly, and moves his hand back down to hold Etho’s and thumb over his palm gently. “What in the world are you talkin’ about, me not supposed to love you?”

Etho clamps his mouth shut, determined not to make himself seem like the one deserving comfort. Minutes and more minutes pass, and Bdubs hums the same tune that played in Etho’s nightmare. Etho recognizes it now for what it is–it’s their song, he’s heard it a thousand times and danced to it with Bdubs almost as many. Soft, comforting notes that typically help Etho relax and feel safe-–this time it does little to calm Etho. But then Bdubs traces letters into Etho’s hands, declaring love over and over into his palms, and Etho can’t help but shift forward slightly. It does not help him keep his resolve to stay silent.

Bdubs’ hums trail off into silence, and Etho finally speaks.

“I… I’m so sorry.”

He can tell Bdubs is looking inquisitively, but he won’t look at Bdubs’ eyes now (just in case he finds them to be as soulless as in his nightmare).

“I should’ve saved you… I could have, I could have given you that life… there was no reason not to and–” Etho chokes on his own words for a moment before continuing. “I left you and betrayed you and–”

Bdubs is already shaking his head in denial, and squeezes Etho’s hands in reassurance. Etho keep going.

“And… and I left you alone on season eight, and you were alone and waited for me and I was just off doing nothing useful on my own world because I’m selfish and I didn’t wanna face you after I caused your death, and… and then you died again and it was my fault!” Etho tries to pull his hands away, but Bdubs’ grip is too strong.

“You shouldn’t love me, Bdubs,” Etho chuckles humorously, but sounds more like a sob. “You deserve someone who isn’t selfish and a betrayer and a killer.” Your killer, something whispers into Etho’s mind, and he can’t argue with it.

The death grip Bdubs has on his hands loosens.

That’s it, then, and Etho moves to leave their bed, but then…

“You’re stupid if you think that,” Bdubs’ voice is steady, and before Etho can back away, Bdubs reaches forward one more time, arms outstretched. “Etho, look at me.”

He doesn’t. He can’t. How could he look into the eyes of someone he’s practically been the death of? What if Bdubs’ eyes are dead and empty, and–

“Etho… please look at me,” Bdubs repeats, and Etho catches the tinge of hurt in his voice this time.

He can’t hurt Bdubs anymore.

Achingly slow, Etho raises his head to finally look his Bdubs in the eyes. He’s expecting them to be empty, uncaring, and probably full of deserved hatred.

Instead, he’s met with the same warmth Bdubs has always reserved for him, the same adoration Etho first recognized back on another world. Big brown eyes gaze at him, filled with more love than Etho has ever deserved.

“You’re stupid if you think that I’m just gonna stop lovin’ you,” Bdubs smiles, slightly watery, and Etho feels the same ecstatic rush he always does when Bdubs’ looks at him.

He shouldn’t, oh, he shouldn’t, he doesn’t deserve it at all.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” Bdubs nods encouragingly. “Let me love you, please.”

That’s what makes Etho break, makes him lurch forward into Bdubs’ waiting arms. It’s not the first time he’s had a nightmare, and he’s sure it won’t be the last. It’s not a perfect hug, but he curls his fingers into Bdubs’ shirt, falling into his arms desperately. Bdubs tilts Etho’s head up, and Etho feels like he’s flying in the sky with the way Bdubs looks at him so utterly filled with love. There’s no hatred to be found, and Etho knows despite his imperfections and selfishness and mistakes, Bdubs still loves him.

Bdubs shifts so that one of his hands can rest in Etho’s hair, and he runs his hand through it, detangling the strands from where it’s become knots and a mess. Once he’s done, Etho can feel him playing with a part of it, forming the tiniest braid at the nape of his neck.

It’s been a long time since Bdubs has done that. Etho knows Bdubs should have a braid of his own, around the back of his head. It’s a promise, and Etho knows that this time he’ll keep it.

He’s high up, higher than his imperfections, and it hurts to know the love Bdubs has for him. It consumes him, he doesn’t deserve it, and yet–

Etho thinks he can learn to live with it, and he lets Bdubs love him, lets Bdubs press his lips against Etho’s in reassurance.

but when you look at me i’m lifted high up

higher than my rain clouds

sitting on the mountain now i’m high up

never wanna come down

when you look at me i’m lifted

…

you saw me cowered in the corner

& offered me a second chance

now every night i wrestle Love

didn’t know that it could hurt this much

#ethubs #etho #bdoubleo100 #bdubs #ethoslab #hermitshipping #hermitcraft #love you shep<3 #me when forgiveness and love #my fics #you said to go hard on the nightmare and i delivered #LMAOOOO

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lavampira · 9 months

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wip wednesday

tagged by @coldshrugs and @impossible-rat-babies ty frens!! it’s a tad late in the day but I’ll tag @hythlodaes @scionshtola @gwynbleidd @kirnet @hylfystt @elvves in case anyone has writing or art they want to share but ofc no pressure!!

A flash of light blazing a trail towards her catches her peripheral. Some instinctive part of her brain screams danger at the sight, and she knows that she should’ve been more alert with sensors jammed, but it’s too late. Her shoulder flares with searing pain that radiates through her chest as the impact knocks her right onto her ass.

Malena hears the lieutenant yelling over the erupting gunfire, but he sounds too distant to her ears, unable to make out his words. She shakes her head in a desperate attempt to clear the rattled grogginess. It doesn’t help, but she can’t afford to sit there like an idiot. Shotgun still in hand, she scrambles back to the crates that she fell behind, hissing through her teeth as she slams against the surface.

#it’s mass effect fic because i’ve been working on finding my shep’s voice between playing <3 #tag game #oc: malena shepard #wip tag

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sheps-shepherd · 3 months

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Set Your Sails (Be Ready for the Winds of Change) - sheps - Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies) [Archive of Our Own]

Harley had a pretty sweet gig as far as Pokemon training went. He spent his days in Viridian City, battling the best of Kanto's trainers who came around to challenge the final League gym. He was living a trainer's dream, but honestly? Harley was starting to get bored. The spark of excitement that battling had always given him was starting to fade, and it had been a while since any trainer had been able to reignite it. Shackled into staying where he was, Harley waited for something new to come along. That something came in the form of one Peter Parker. Peter was almost a year into his journey to be the very best. After traveling across Kanto, he finally found himself ready to earn his last badge at Viridian City Gym - only to find it closed upon his arrival. With no choice but to stick around until he found the gym leader, Peter figured he may as well take advantage of the city's caliber of trainers to sneak in some extra practice. That was how he found himself standing across a battlefield from Harley Keener, who proved to be the biggest challenge Peter had ever faced in more ways than one.

Click the link to read on AO3!

#alrighty so who had sheps writes a gay pokemon fic on their 2024 bingo card #parkner #peter parker #harley keener #keenker #parley #talesoffanfic #the journey starts today

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tunastime · 1 year

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On Life Series Season 4

for those of you who voted for jimmy and tango: this is for you.

also known as: I have very complex thoughts about rancher reunion for season 4 and monolith is a group of known enablers.

(1545 words)

It’s the end of the world. Or, at least, it feels like it.

The grass is green and the sky is orange and red and Jimmy Solidarity is alone. He’s standing, half-stilted, leaning hard against the weight of the sword in his hands. It’s stone, just like the building. The rough cobbles form a tower. A defense. It’s all he’s got, here, in another death game. He’s got that, and another chance to die for nothing.

He tries to breathe normally, like he’s taught himself to keep level headed. It’s not doing much, considering that Jimmy feels something odd and aching boiling over in his chest. He feels like an unwatched pot, tipping over his lid, and his arms shake with it. It’s a feeling that pools in his wrists and the back of his knees, sharp and prickly. He can taste something vile in the back of his mouth. Words, laughter, bile. He isn’t sure.

It’s darkening. His building is on fire.

“Jimmy!”

It’s a voice he’s memorized. Gravel on the low notes. Whispers in the middle. Footsteps in the dirt. He thinks there might be blood under his nails, but he thinks it might also be soil, because nothing smells like blood and nothing about him stings. The voice that cuts through the dusk is too familiar, too safe. He staggers.

Jimmy’s house isn’t on fire, he is. He feels it coiling in his chest, licking at the inside of his lungs, hot, too hot, or maybe not hot enough. If he breathes out he fears it might be smoke. His hands are shaking. He swallows. He can’t make his lungs inflate.

Part of him thinks he deserves this, to know he’s mocked from the start, because he can remember the words about his house, about the rumors around him, he can remember the anger boiling up to an overflow. His house is burning. He made it out of stone this time. That wouldn’t burn, he thought. But his hands are hot. There were words he said, isn’t there? Things that punched out of him as soon as he saw a familiar face that had to crane to meet his eye again. What was it that he said, when he ran into Scar first? Joel? When they told him good luck both times? Was it something cruel to match the curling in his chest? Was it the brief glee on Joel’s face, knowing he got under his skin, that made him snap back? Who else was there?

There are other words being said to him.

What happened back there? I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Someone said you nearly punched Joel? And Scar? Jimmy—

Feet on the grass. He’s not there though, on that hillside with Joel, not anymore. He’s staring wide-eyed into bright red eyes, arms stretched out, a perspective that forces him to look at only him, at Tango in front of him.

It’s Tango, terrified. It’s Tango, and Jimmy can swear he can feel Tango’s heart thudding away helplessly in his own chest. It’s Tango, and for a moment he feels like his hands are burning and that the noise is deafening around him.

Except there is no noise. He fights to get forward, lands himself into Tango’s shoulder, hears the audible thud and oof as he does, as Tango digs his heels into the earth and refuses to be pushed aside. Tango pushes him back, trying to hold him steady.

“Jimmy—that wasn’t—this isn’t you,” Tango says, and his voice borders on confusion, on despair. Jimmy makes a noise somewhere half in his chest in response. “Snap out of it.”

“He’s just—he—he’s—” Jimmy struggles for a moment, squirming against the arm that holds his elbow. He didn’t see Joel like Tango did, scared and alone. He was the sneer over a wall Joel built. He was feeling himself picked up by the scruff, unable to fight back. He was watching a town crumble and it wasn’t even his fault. He was bleeding out on a bridge and someone was laughing. It’s gloating, it’s—someone is laughing and it isn’t Tango and it isn’t him.

Jimmy struggles. Why is Tango stopping him? Isn’t this what he should be doing? Standing up for himself? Jimmy deflates. Wouldn’t Tango be proud of him? Isn’t this what he wants? Every nerve in his body feels like it’s lit up, hair standing on end. Something watches (it isn’t Tango, and it isn’t him.)

“This isn’t you,” Tango manages.

Jimmy feels himself pushed back, but the hands are firm on his shoulders as his arms start to ache. His shoulder feels aflame where Tango holds it, warmth spreading from one point of contact through his muscles. He’s looking at Tango now, just for a fraction of a second before looking away, not able to hold his eye. His vision isn’t clear. It goes fuzzy around the edges, unfocused like he might be drifting off into space. He’s seeing bright red eyes under the brim of a hat. He’s seeing blue flames across the way. There’s someone in the pocket of his side and he is safe.

He takes what feels like the first breath of air in a long minute and his mouth doesn’t taste like smoke. He feels a hand peel from his shoulder, something that slides up to his face. It cradles his jaw in one warm palm, then two, fingers curling around the shell of his ears. He blinks, even has his vision blurs completely. The back of his throat burns. He feels like his nose is pinched shut. He swallows, and it takes everything in him to focus on the warmth of the hands over his cheeks.

��Jimmy, look at me. Look at me,” Tango’s voice tugs at him, firm. He lets his eyes drift back to a face that he knows. Tango’s eyes are wide, eyebrows upturned, lips in a fine line. He’s swaying, maybe not on purpose. He’s shivering, maybe not on purpose. The sky was never burning, it was just red. Jimmy feels his weight start to drop. It’s Tango. It’s Tango.

“It’s me, it’s Tango, your rancher,” he watches the wisp of a smile form on Tango’s face, through the wobble in his voice. He inhales sharply. “Remember?”

Cows! a voice calls from the doorway as Jimmy tries to circumnavigate the small herd chewing at the bundle of hay in his hand, on the sleeve of his shirt. This was many months ago. This was the first instance. There comes a day where Jimmy will sit a little too close and Tango will decide to slot himself in the curve of his arm at night and soon enough one bed was enough space and too much all at once. Hands fitting hands. Arms fitting around shoulders. We’ll rebuild, his voice says, to wipe the look of desolation from his rancher’s face as they stand in the broken husk of a house. It was never the home, anyway, was it? It was the people inside.

Something in Jimmy’s chest twists the strings of his heart in a knot. He sees Tango expression wavers as he shuts his eyes, swaying forward. He only manages a breath before it breaks.

Jimmy collapses into his arms and the smell of burnt matches is like coming home.

Tango sags with him, sinking them to the ground. Jimmy presses his face into the side of his neck, and safe, held close, he cries. It’s a horrible sound, one that pulls from him brokenly as he buries himself in Tango’s arms. He chokes on the sob.

“It’s empty,” he says, and the words are haunting and choked into his shoulder. Tango holds to the back of his neck, to the base of his spine, even as Jimmy’s hands tangle uselessly in his sweater. It’s all Jimmy can manage. He repeats it in the inhale that he takes: It’s empty. I’m alone.

Tumble Town is empty, and he knows it’s his fault.

Or maybe it isn't. Because what else could he have done, except convince them to stay? What could’ve been done that hadn’t been already, that he hadn’t already tried? What could he have done that would’ve made any difference, anyway, besides leaving himself?

Jimmy cries. Tango’s hands run up the base of his spine. They pull Jimmy to him, holding him close, holding him tight. Tango’s voice is a barely audible thing, through the gasps for air, between the calculated inhales and exhales Tango tries to have him copy. He repeats it like a mantra, pressed into the side of his head, into his hairline: “You’re not alone, I’m here.”

I’m here now and I won’t leave. Your home won’t be empty and your hearth won’t be cold. Your arms won’t be empty and your chest won’t be cold. I’m here.

Tango holds him in the grass and the dirt. Even when the sky is no longer pink and orange, even when the stars have started to peek out in the blue that blends with the fringes of sunset.

If only by one person, he is loved.

Jimmy breathes.

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