#doctho

etho/doc is also the only “ship” (i have complicated feelings on calling them specifically a ship in standard shipping vernacular/context with how i see them but yeah) i indulge in equally in non rpf-y shit with. like mcc meta Does inform them and every other etho relationship i think about, but weirdly sinking into more roleplay fantastical territory feels pretty natural as opposed to ethubs. fantastical cubito ethubs is very Very good at times but its constantly in conversation with the meta way in which the relationship is founded, ethubs is a dynamic thats extremely aware of how disengaged in furtrade bdubs is as opposed to the rest of the server and thats why its so good. ethubs is itself a work of etho conservation and sanctuary thats deepened by over a decade of history. you cannot in any circumstance completely extricate the ways in which their specific internet friendship has been formed and maintained across multiple smps over the years and its own emotional investment to outside viewers.

c/w for non human genetalia

AO3 LINK

Etho spends the entire day following Doc around - they are hanging out and working on redstone together but Etho feels like he's a perv watching him elbow deep in the guts of his latest contraption - building himself up to asking. Doc pulls back from the complexly layered logic circuits with redstone staining his four burly green paws and looks back at Etho, who has been letting his eyes wander anywhere but Doc for far too long. Sitting on a shulker, his bushy winter tail sways languidly side to side, fuzzier than usual, a little feverish shake disrupting the rhythm every so often. Doc lifts a brow as he wipes at his paws with a rag. "What are you thinking about ladders?" Etho gulps. "Uh, nothing?" "The rhythm your tail is swaying at, dead give away your being a sick little perv, what are you thinking about?" Doc chuckles flatly, bottom set of arms crossed while his upper pair stretch and Etho blushes - Doc in a barely there tank distressed and stained red, thickset furry and cybernetic arms stretching and exposing his pits: so very fluffy with the smell of hard work wafting towards him has that effect. Snappers… Etho tucks it around his body so he can hugs it close to his chest, it still squirms and flounders in his arms. Doc snorts at the cute fox atop his shulker. They both know Doc isn't going to leave him alone until Etho spills, and Etho really REALLY doesn't want to endure Doc coaxing it out of him - he can be so sweetly mean and so meanly sweet about it. ...

Etho suffers a lot with anxiety, but thankfully he has Doc who can sense when the other is having a panic attack and help to deal with it by laying down with his full weight on Etho’s chest until the latter calms down.

Doc makes sure Etho gets all the necessary care afterwards as well.

At first Doc was afraid he'd crush Etho, but the weight is needed. Etho is hardier than he looks. Just as importantly, Doc's learned how to quietly steer Etho out of situations. Lying on him doesn't really help if he's still surrounded by people.

I am a big supporter of top Etho. He's a tall ass Canadian man who works out and eats healthy like he's 63. He's got himself together enough and is great at games and is just smart in general. On that note.... yeah there are only 2 people who I think can actually top him.

First one is mister Skizzle. This could go either way, in Imp's among us vids I noticed how Etho calls skizz "skizzle" and it's the most adorable thing ever (someone else has also mentioned this before). Anyways, Skizz is such a controlling person, he really needs to have everyone around him on a leash to feel sane and that includes Etho. They're both big guys, I know they'd fight for dominance and any of them could win, either way, it would be hot as *beep*.

The second person is of course, Docm77. The fics I've read with top Doc and bottom Etho have been life changing. They converted me, especially the stormverse ones. Anyways, Doc is an old friend of Etho, knows him well and he's like the exact opposite of Etho. Etho is very pg even if he's a freak and Doc isn't pg and is a freak. Etho is always making amazing contraptions within the bounds of the game while Doc tries to push past those and succeeds. Etho is confident and has a strong sense of self and Doc appreciates that consistency in his "friend" but he also would like to breed him very much.

Doc arrives late to the get-together (Grian had called it a party but really, the “parties” that Grian throws are just big get-togethers with alcohol and music playing in the background complete with Mario Cart and Foosball). There’d still been work to do in the lab and Doc wasn’t the type to leave work unfinished. So he’s late to the get-together which is fine. He’s not exactly keen to be here anyway but Grian had nearly blown up his out-of-date phone with how many texts, audios, videos, and pictures he’d sent Doc to get him over here. He's already missed the Foosball tournament (which, again, Doc doesn't really care. He's tired and doing a friend a favour by being there is all.)

It’s mostly people he knows but he does spot a few unfamiliar faces when he steps into ZITS’s basement. False greets him as she walks past him (probably on her way to the bathroom, Doc guesses) and shoves a freshly opened beer bottle into his hands. He takes that as a sign to keep it and finds the nearest couch to sit on. He closes his eyes for a minute until he opens them again and surveys the room while sipping the beer.

Grian waves to him from a corner of the room. Doc waves back. Joel and Scott are with Grian as well as Ren and a chubby blonde man Doc can’t place. Cleo, Bdubs, and Cub are letting Scar chat their ears off about Star Wars and Gem and Pearl are sitting at the bar, drinking shots and giggling with each other. Hypno, xB, Jevin, and Wels have made a nest out of two two-seaters, squished together and chatting away in their own small bubble (Doc can smell the pot from where he’s sitting).

Across the room, Beef is telling Etho a story (or maybe spreading gossip?) which makes Etho devolve into several fits of giggles. Etho’s mask is tugged down under his chin (a rare sight), showing off his pointy canine teeth every every time he laughs. The scar on Etho’s face keeps tugging at the upper left part of his lip, quirking it up to constantly flash his gums to the world. Etho interrupts Beef and Doc watches the way Etho’s mouth forms around the words. Etho grins at Beef’s rebuttal and takes a swig of what Doc guesses to be vodka with orange juice (or maybe just plain orange juice).

“Hey Doc, buddy!” The cushion Doc is sitting on dips down and Doc has to catch his balance as Skizz sits down next to him. “Watcha looking at, huh?” He asks and slings an arm around Doc’s shoulder. Even sitting, Doc has to tilt his head a little to look Skizz in the face. It’s not often the case that people are taller than Doc and he wonders if this is what it’s like for Bdubs in every day life. “Not looking at anything in particular,” Doc answers Skizz’ question. “Nothin’ in particular?” Skizz repeats as he jostles Doc. “Wow, you must be really out of it then, if you’re this quiet. I’m not sure when you started drinking. You okay, buddy?” He actually sounds a little worried so Doc reassures him. “Nah I’m fine. This is my first beer. I’m just a little tired.” “Alright, if you say so.” Skizz pats Doc’s shoulder and gets up. “If you need anything, we’re here for you, yeah? You’re a brilliant guy, Doc.” Doc simply nods, a little unsure how to react to the emotional honesty and affection Skizz puts forth with ease. He looks down his nearly empty bottle, downs the rest, and makes his way over to the makeshift bar to get another beer from Impulse, who is playing bartender today.

Doc gives Gem and Pearl a nod and moves back to the main area. He lets his gaze sweep over his friends until he lands on Etho again, who, coincidentally, is looking in his direction. Their eyes meet and Etho smiles and waves him over. Doc carefully picks his way through the room, stepping over drinks and limbs. He almost knocks over Hypno’s Vodka-E which results in a “Woah, careful there Doc!” and others making space for him. Beef has disappeared to somewhere else, leaving space on the two-seater Etho is sat on. Doc can’t quite tell how far the sofa is away from him although he’s pretty sure it must be close. His hand hits the backrest earlier than he expects and he is left to awkwardly climb onto the sofa.

“Hey Doc!” Etho’s voice has the usual teasing lilt to it and his eyes crinkle as he smiles. Doc doesn’t even realise he’s staring at Etho’s mouth forming his name until he subconsciously reaches out to touch the scar just as Etho moves to pull up his mask. Doc quickly turns away, face heating up rapidly. “Sorry, sorry,” he stumbles over an apology, “I think I am more tired than I thought.” Etho stares at him, face unreadable and mask half-way pulled up. Doc can see his mouth open, then close. Doc fiddles with the label on his beer bottle, eye glancing from Etho’s face his own hands and then back. After what feels like the longest awkward silence Doc has ever experienced with one of his friends, Etho quietly clears his throat. Doc glances back at Etho who slowly pulls his mask back under his chin. “You can, uh…” He licks his lips and lets his gaze dance around the room until settling back on Doc. “If you want, I mean. You can touch.” A hesitant “yeah?” slips past Doc’s lips. Etho nods.

Doc pulls one leg up onto the couch so he can turn his body inward. The room around them quickly blurs into background noise as it leaves his field of vision and Doc once again reaches out to touch Etho’s face. He starts higher up this time. Right above Etho’s left eyebrow where the scar starts. It’s familiar territory in the sense that Doc sees it several times a week for hours on end in the lab. He’s never touched it, though. Never crossed that line before. Doc trails his fingers down the scar, through the split eyebrow but skipping Etho’s eye. Unlike Doc, who had his blind eye removed opting to wear prosthetics, Etho’s blind eye remains firmly in its socket. He refuses to get it removed even though it’s split down the middle and has gotten infected at least twice in the time Doc has known Etho.

The scar widens just under Etho’s eye. It’s pink and irregular which makes Doc think that it probably didn’t heal right but he doesn’t know for sure. He’s never asked what happened and Etho never told him. Etho holds his breath once Doc arrives at his upper lip. Doc catches Etho’s eye for consent and Etho nods, lips slightly pursed. Doc is irritated by the fact that he can’t get a read on Etho without him wearing his mask and he tells him so. Etho laughs in a short, surprised burst. The motion knocks Doc’s thumb partially into Etho’s mouth, catching on teeth. This close, Doc can see that Etho’s canine tooth is chipped, missing its tip and dragging a dent through its length. “Really?” Etho asks, surprise evident in his voice. Doc nods, simply staring at Etho’s mouth before deciding to drag his thumb further down the scar to where it ends just shy of Etho’s neck. He thumbs at it for half a second before pulling his hand away completely, moving it back to the beer bottle.

Etho pulls his mask up and shifts a little closer. “Can I?” he asks, hand hovering over Doc’s blind eye. Doc nods and Etho’s cold fingers feel the scars around Doc’s prosthetic.

A few years back, a younger and stupider version of Doc had decided to implant magnets around his blind eye so he could attach cool metal plating around it to make himself look more like a cyborg. He’d done it himself as well, which had ended up with a lot of blood, his body rejecting the foreign objects within a few weeks, and an awkward hospital trip in which he had to explain to both his friends and medical professionals what he had done. The failed self-augmentation, as his friends liked to call it, had left him with bumpy scars dotted around his eye socket which liked to itch during the times Doc was too busy to regularly put cream on them.

When Etho pulls back his hand, Doc turns his body to face the room again. He can’t think of another time anybody other than him had touched those scars this… intimately to say the least. He takes a sip of his beer and lets his eye flick around the room.

Beef is at the bar, chatting with Impulse and casually looking over his shoulder as if he’s waiting on something. Upon double-checking, he waves at Impulse and makes his way back over to Doc and Etho. Embarrassed, Doc shifts his gaze and lands on Scott instead, which is worse, because Scott is staring at him judgmentally from where he’s squished between Grian and Joel, the latter visibly upset about something.

Doc moves his focus to Etho again. Etho is setting his drink back on the couch table (Doc decides that it probably isn’t just orange juice) and Doc reaches out a hand and asks “Can I have some?” Etho nods. Beef steps within earshot just as Doc puts the glass to his lips and calls out a greeting. Doc nods toward Beef, takes a big sip of the drink, and promptly chokes on his mouthful. Somehow, he manages to swallow it all, letting the cinnamon burn his throat on the way down. “What the hell,” he manages between coughs as he sets the glass back down. “Why are you drinking fireball out of a glass, man?”

“Wait what?” Beef cuts in-front of Etho’s sly “I mean, why wouldn’t I?”

“Etho!” Beef scolds, “That’s your second glass! And you smoked with Hypno earlier!”

“I like getting crossfaded,” Etho defends himself while Doc is still coughing next to him, “And look, Doc is helping me drink the fireball.”

Beef shakes his head. “You are unbelievable, mister.”

i can’t draw and have a few ships this can go for

First one is Scariandaph where Scar’s the one tied up by Zed and Grain

Next one is Fubskall where False and Iskall tie Cub to the pole

Next is Impdubsgo where Tango and Bdubs treat Impy to some pole time