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pokichuwrites · 4 months

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Rendoc fluff because of the category 5 Doc tweet mans brought this on himself.

Doc frowned as he struggled to move his mechanical arm. Despite specifically designing it to be waterproof to protect the precious redstone circuitry, it somehow got waterlogged after Doc was out too long in this rainstorm.

It would be just a little bit longer and he would be home, but until then he had to hope the damage wouldn’t get worse as he held his umbrella over his head.

Doc didn’t like rain in general, and especially not when it managed to find a hole in Doc’s waterproofing.

When he finally made it to his house, he tried to transfer the umbrella to his mechanical hand, but the thing jerked when he tried to grab it so he huffed and, trying ro ignore how ridiculous this would look but knowing he didn’t have any other options, put the shaft of the umbrella in his mouth and knocked, hoping Ren was home so he wouldn’t have to fish for his keys.

Doc heard click of the door being unlocked and sagged in relief, moving to get inside the house.

“Dude!” Ren protested even as he moved out of his way to let him in, “you’re going to get water everywhere!”

Doc took his umbrella out of his mouth and grunted. “I’ll clean it up, it’s just water,” he said as he shook out the umbrella.

“Uh, Doc? Your- here let me get that for you,” Ren closed the door before taking the umbrella from Doc, who nodded in thanks, and closed and put it away. Doc took note of the way Ren’s ears were twitching nervously.

“I’ll be fine, I’ll take it off and fix it-”

“With your arm jerking around like that?” Ren argued. “At least let me help take it off.” Doc opened his mouth to argue, but then the mechanical arm spasmed and Doc saw his boyfriend’s point.

The two walked over to Doc’s workshop in the basement. An aggressive twitch that nearly pushed them both down the stairs made Doc seriously begin to regret choosing the basement for his workshop.

Once they were finally fully in the workshop, Doc sat down awkwardly. One problem with being a creeper hybrid is that having four legs can be an absolute nightmare to manage sometimes. Not as bad as centaurs because at least his knees can handle sitting and laying down unlike the evolutionary failure that was the horse, but still awkward.

Ren grabbed the tools and began working at removing Doc’s prosthetic. Because it needed to connect to Doc’s nerves to allow him to actually move it, it was painful to put on and remove. Doc designed it to be able to adjust one-handed, of course, but every time his arm twitched, so did the rest of his body. His arm simply wasn’t steady enough.

This wasn’t the first time Ren helped Doc with his prosthetic, even thought he far preferred to do it himself. After a lot of convincing, Doc had taught Ren how to remove the arm, put the arm on him, and do simple fixes on it about five months after they moved in together. After that Ren had only messed with Doc’s arm a few times (even though the man was not very talented with mechanics). He clearly still remembered what Doc told him, which made something warm blossom in his chest as the arm was deactivated and placed on the table.

“Thank you,” Doc said quietly. He knew Ren’s sensitive ears would still pick up on it.

Ren smirked. “Thank you for letting me,” he replied easily, beginning to walk upstairs. “Now, I’m going to make you something to eat and you’re going to get comfy, yeah?”

Doc smiled as he followed Ren. “What exactly does ‘get comfy’ entail?”

“Warm up with a blanket and clean pajamas,” Ren elaborated.

Doc nodded. “I can do that.”

Ren giggled. The two wordlessly split ways as Ren moved to the kitched while Doc moved to the bathroom to dry himself off. Once that was done he went to the bedroom and removed his soaking wet clothes, tossing them into the hamper. He debated for a moment before grabbing a sleeveless pastel pink nightgown and putting it on. Most of Doc’s clothes had one sleeve removed anyway to accommodate the arm, but it felt nice to wear something designed to have no sleeves. Also, Doc and Ren had an inside joke about wearing pink, and even though he wouldn’t ever admit it out loud, it made him feel warm and happy whenever he wore the color.

He grabbed his favorite blanket and moved into the living room, sitting in front of the fireplace with the blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

Ren and Doc were quiet for a bit. It was broken by Ren, saying “I told you to wait another day to return, you know.”

Doc groaned, but Ren’s change from concern to banter was enough of a relief that he genuinely smiled almost as wide as his face (which was limited by missing facial muscles) would allow. “Dear, you know I’ve been through far worse than some rain. Besides, damaging the arm is a sacrifice I’m willing to make if it means seeing you.”

He turned and looked ofer the kitchen counter at Ren, who was suspiciously looking away from Doc in an attempt to hide his flustered blush.

Doc laughed, and Ren did too. It’s a nice sound. Doc thinks it might be his favorite.

#hurt/comfort?#i guess #hes less hurt but his prosthetic is certainly disagree with water so thats something #docm77 #rendog #rendoc

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pokichuwrites · 4 months

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hermit fanon swap - an art game!

Reblog this to let your followers know they can send art requests to your ask box

if you are a writer you can also reblog this and make little snippets about hermits and their new traits

Vex!Grian and Avian!Mumbo as fun examples

Artless version behind the cut:

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pokichuwrites · 4 months

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✨✨Mcytblr ask game for writers✨✨

Let's start the new year by prompting the writers in the fandom so they infodump on all of us <3

1. Where do you write? (notes app, Google Drive, word, a notebook, directly onto ao3, another word processor, etc.)

2. What was the first SMP or cubito you ever wrote for?

3. Which SMP do you find is the most fun to work with?

4. Anything you like in particular about writing for this fandom? (the setting, the aus, the people,etc)

5. How do you translate the world of Minecraft to fit into your fanfics when you keep the original setting?

6. Do you like using the mcyt multiverse as a concept? (all SMPS and MC content exists in the same universe)

7.How long does it take for you to go from an idea to the end product? (be it drabble in tumblr or fully published multichapter fic in ao3)

8.Do you edit and proofread your works yourself or do you have someone else to help you with that?

9.How do you worldbuild?

10.How do you do character arcs?

11.Are you more of a planner or an improviser?

12.Funniest comment you've ever gotten in a piece of work?

13.Any segment of your work that made you cry while writing it? (because it moved you deeply)

14.Most fun and/or engaging character voice to write in?

15.Writing in first, second or third person?

16.What do you think is the signature aspect of your work? What do you think readers see and go "Ah of course! [Writer] made this!"

17.Favorite dynamic to write? (ship, familial bond, friendship, qpr, rivalry, etc)

18.How similar are the things you enjoy writing to the things you enjoy reading?

19.Do you tend to take into account hybrid characteristics (avian, enderman hybrid, dragon hybrid, etc) when you are writing cubitos?

20.Which project have you poured so much of yourself into that it resembles more an original work than a derivative mcyt work?

21.What cubito have you stared from afar like a weird bug and thought "If I knew what was up with you or your world I'd try writing for you"?

22.Any popular fanfic you heard a lot of buzz around and thought "eh it's fine" just to read it later and decide "oh it does deserve all the hype it gets!"

23.What work of yours would you like to have the biggest impact on the fandom?

24.What work would you like to talk more about?

25.What works and/or authors in the fandom do you recommend?

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pokichuwrites · 4 months

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GeminiTay Appreciation Week! 🧡

hello everyone! it's finally time for us to show Gem just how much we appreciate her!

i've provided prompts for both artists and writers for each day (dec 18th-dec 24th) !

you can choose to skip a day if you feel that you're unable to continue, that's completely fine! we don't enforce these types of events :D

just remember to credit me for the idea and use either #geminitay appreciation week or #gemweek so we can all see your work!

further hate or bullying will not be tolerated here. this is a safe space and it should continue to be one.

now that that's out of the way, enjoy yourselves and have lots of fun with it! <3

tag list:

@summerlycoris @theminecraftbee @geminitay-quotes @pocket-sized-nightmare @navigatorbree @daisy-bugs @soul-lime @slitheringstars @azurecake16 @smallishdruid @annalini-linez @whereishoney @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @rainy-weather-supremacy @faenemy @tumblerosestudios @nudgeling @watching-listening-takin-notes

(apologies if the tags don't seem to work, i have no clue why it doesn't properly notify someone :C )

#gonna do this <3

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pokichuwrites · 5 months

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Edit: adding a “read more” tab because scrolling through this beast is a nightmare. No tws except uhh traffic series typical mentions of death.

“You know Grian, I forgive you.”

Grian jumped embarrassingly high, and spun around to see Scar, who was smiling at him. Perhaps he was a little on edge now that the entire server was red. That’s fine. It’s fine. “You- Scar! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

Scar giggled, and Grian huffed, crossing his arms. “Come on G, it was pretty funny.”

Grian sighed. “Ugh, fine. Well, you made your way all over here. What do you want?”

Scar cleared his throat dramatically, and threw out his left arm, his right hand was holding onto his cane, or else he probably would have held out both arms, as if he was silently asking for a one armed hug.

“I just want to talk to you, is that so wrong!” Scar smiled at him. It was frustratingly endearing.

“Nothing wrong, I just… wasn’t expecting it. That’s all,” Grian explained. He didn’t really believe Scar that he just wanted to talk to Grian. There was something more. Scar was going to… trick Grian, or something. He didn’t know. They weren’t exactly allies this season, and Scar hasn’t been very trustworthy.

“Haven’t you learned to expect the unexpected, G?” Scar asked, leaning against his cane and gesturing as he talked. “How about we walk to my base and I tell you about my day and you tell me about yours?”

“You know, if the session wasn’t over already I’d assume this was related to a task,” Grian said, not moving any closer to Scar.

Scar dramatically gasped, touching his hand to his chest. “I’m wounded, Grian, that you don’t trust me.”

“I literally watched you set our trees on fire,” he deadpanned.

“Funny thing, that actually was a task,” Scar seemed… nervous. Grian just noticed all of a sudden, Scar seemed nervous about something. “But right now I just want to talk to my good friend Grian. No shenanigans involved, I swear!”

“Alright, alright, but we’re talking here. I’m not following you to your base.” Grian turned, knowing Scar would follow him as he walked into the space he shared with Cleo and Etho.

Grian knew Scar was following by the sound of his cane tapping the path, then the wood. “You know I can’t hurt you outside of a session!” Scar argued.

“That doesn’t mean that I trust you. The rules have been broken before, you know.” He didn’t mean for his voice to get a little sharp at the mention of breaking rules, but it did anyway.

Scar made a disappointed noise, but relented. “That’s fair, I guess.”

They had entered the base, and Cleo, who was working on fixing a tear in Etho’s pants, noticed Scar, and frowned. “What’s going on?” She asked.

Grian shrugged. “Scar said he wanted to talk to me.”

Cleo fixed Scar with a look. That scary look she gives someone when she doesn’t trust someone to not hurt her allies.

“Wh- hey- come on, why’s everyone looking at me like that! I really do just want to talk!” Scar said defensively.

“You don’t have the best track record when it comes to these things, Scar.” Cleo set aside the pants to stare at Scar without risking pricking her fingers with the seeing needle.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Scar lied.

Grian scoffed. “Says the man who conned people out of their clothes multiple times. By the way, where’s Etho?”

“He’s in Bdubs’ bedroom,” Cleo replied, smiling slightly.

Scar looked between Grian and Cleo. “Well, would you happen to know somewhere we can talk without risking someone else listening in on us?” He asked, speaking slowly and carefully.

Grian crossed his arms. “Well, the zombie farm or the enchanter would work,” he started, “but I don’t see any reason to want to talk to you in private.”

Scar frowned. “Come on, I promise, no shenanigans! I just want to talk to you!” He sounded frustrated, and he probably was considering the conversation.

Cleo hummed. “How about this. Scar, if you and Grian talk, and you do any shenanigans, I’ll sick my dogs on you first thing next session.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die, no shenanigans!”

Grian considered it. After a bit of thinking, he gave up with a sigh. “Alright, let’s meet at the enchanter. If anything happens, though, I’m telling Cleo.” Cleo always makes good on her promises, so that at least made Grian feel safe.

Scar grinned. “Yay!”

—————

They chose the enchanting set up. That way it would be easier for Grian to run out and shout for Cleo if he felt unsafe.

He was closer to the exit than Scar, who was sitting on one of the bookshelves.

He leaned against the wall and looked at Scar, genuinely curious. “Why did you want to talk in private?” He asked.

Scar closed his eyes. “I’ve been thinking. About past seasons. I… we never really got closure, did we?”

Oh, that made sense. Grian almost felt bad for being so resistant to talking to Scar, now. Almost.

“I don’t think we did,” Grian replied. Scar was fidgeting with his cane.

“Well, I meant what I said earlier. I forgive you.”

Grian gave pause. Scar was forgiving him. After… everything. “For what?” He asked.

“Everything, I guess. For stealing a life from me in Last Life, for… the thing with BigB in Double Life, for killing me… multiple times in Limited Life. I forgive you.” Scar was quiet. It was so weird, Scar’s voice was quieter than he ever remembered it getting, save for whispering whenever he was sneaking around doing suspicious things.

“Even for Third Life?” Grian found that his voice was quieter too.

Scar looked at Grian for a moment, like the question was ridiculous or something. “What would I need to forgive you for in Third Life?”

Grian was incredulous. “Killing you? Two times?”

Scar giggled. “Oh, that? Grian, I forgave you a long time ago.” He paused, before adding, “I forgave you for that first kill pretty quickly. And I was never upset at you for winning that fight. We both said no hard feelings, right?”

Then he said something else. Very quietly- so quietly that he almost didn’t think he heard him. He had muttered something along the lines of “you deserved the win more than me anyway.”

Grian was sure that wasn’t what Scar said. It couldn’t be, right? There was no way Scar thought he deserved to win more than him. He didn’t push it, though. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what Scar had actually said.

Finally, he remembered that he needed to respond. “Oh, so you. Really do forgive me for everything.” He looked down, fidgeting with his sweater. “Why?” He had asked that last question very, very quietly.

Scar was quiet for a moment, thinking about his response. “I think I understand. I didn’t, at first. I… specifically with BigB. Everything else I knew was just how the game was, but when you… gosh, I still can’t say it…” his voice wavered as he spoke. “Anyway, I’m sure you know that the secrets tasks have been causing some… situations. You know, doing bad things because you have to. I- well, you-” he sighed. “I think I realized in session 4, when you… you were so nice to me. You didn’t have to tell me not to remove the helmet, and you didn’t have to keep my secret.”

“Scar.”

“I’m not finished. You- I was so stressed. And you understood. I didn’t think about it immediately, I was just relieved to not have to wear that stupid diamond helmet, by I definitely realized by the end of the session. My tasks kept… my tasks kept putting me in situations I really didn’t want to be in, Grian.” He looked away. He touched his face, and he wondered mindlessly if Scar was crying. After a few seconds, Scar continued. “And I- I sort of gamified it. Like, I’m not actually doing bad things, it’s… well, I treated it like I was only acting like I was a bad person, because technically I was.” He turned to face Grian again. “It’s shockingly easy to justify betraying someone. To justify hurting your friends for your benefit.”

“Scar?”

“I don’t think… Grian, you never meant to really hurt me, did you? I mean, I think you knew that certain things weren’t nice, but you never meant things ro turn out the way they did.” Scar was definitely avoiding looking at Grian. Grian didn’t really mind, he wasn’t sure if he could stand looking at Scar’s painfully earnest expression. He was really putting all his cards on the table. “I understand now. And I still wish you didn’t do some of the things you did, but I forgive you.”

Grian walked over to Scar, and hugged him. He seemed surprised, jumping slightly, before wrapping his arms around Grian too.

“Scar…” Grian muttered.

“If you don’t accept my forgiveness I will cry,” Scar threatened, as if he wasn’t already crying. Grian didn’t comment on that.

“I’m not very good at apologizing, I’ve realized.” Scar chuckled in reply to that. “I’m sorry,” Grian added, “for not realizing sooner how much I’ve hurt you.”

Scar let go first, Grian did the same after a moment and stepped back. “Can we agree to never tell anyone else about this conversation?” Grian asked.

Scar nodded. “Yeah.” He reached for his cane, realizing suddenly that he had dropped it without realizing, and it had rolled away from him. He muttered under her breath in frustration. Grian picked up the object and offered it to Scar, who smiled at him and accepted it, standing up.

“You know this won’t change how we interact during sessions, right?” Grian asked as he wordlessly helped Scar up.

Scar began walking in front of Grian. “I do, yeah. I just wanted to let you know I forgive you.”

Grian smiled. “Alright.”

The two didn’t say anything else as they left the enchanting room. They didn’t need to. They had said “bye” quietly to each other, then Scar left to go to his base.

————

As Grian walked into the base, Cleo looked at him. She had finished her work on Etho’s pants, which weren’t anywhere ro be seen now. Grian assumed they had been returned to him. “Anything happen that I should know about?”

Grian walked over to her. “No,” he replied, “nothing.”

Cleo sighed. She looked Grian over, suspicious. “You sure? You know I will make good on my promise.”

Grian shook his head. “I swear everything’s fine, Cleo. Scar did have something important to talk about.”

“I assume you’re not going to tell me?” Cleo asked as she fed rotten flesh to her dogs.

“It’s… personal,” Grian replied.

Cleo nodded in understanding. “I get it.” She gestured to the staircase, which led to the bedroom they made for Bdubs while Etho refused to shut up about him. “By the way, your wings are a mess. Do you want Etho and I to preen them?”

Grian hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. Yeah that would be nice.” He moved upstairs, then avoided the hole from the tnt minecart as he entered the bedroom. “Hey, Etho.”

He looked up at Grian and Cleo. “Hey,” he replied.

Grian sat on the bed as Cleo explained to Etho that Grian needed his wings preened. And then the soothing motions of two pairs of hands running through his wings practically turned him liquid. His conversation with Scar had left him tense without realizing. The reminder of the past that Grian just wanted to put behind him. He remembered now, in this moment, something that he forgot a few seasons ago.

The gentle moments like this, the comfort of people he trusted enough to allow them to touch his wings in the first place, they would always happen as long as he let them. Grian had forgotten how it felt to completely and fully trust. He always trusted his allies, but not enough to let them preen his wings. Not enough to know, in every fiber of his being, that they would keep their promises. The last time Grian let an ally preen his wings was Scar, back in Third Life.

Maybe he could heal. Maybe he could peel away all the layers of distrust and hurt. Just maybe…

Grian realized he was crying, but he found that he didn’t care. He was comfortable and safe and happy. Next session would probably be the last session, on a server full of reds and animosity, the chance of anyone seeing a session 10 was incredibly low. But that would be a problem for later Grian. Current Grian was being preened by his friends, his allies.

#traffic series #life series #writing #grian #goodtimeswithscar #ethoslab #zombiecleo #secret life

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pokichuwrites · 5 months

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Shall I suggest something similar but with writing? I will write something silly and goofy :D

spotify wrapped season is upon us, give me a number from 1-100 and i'll draw something based on the song i have for that! you can specify character/fandom if you want but it may end up incredibly unfitting so be warned,

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pokichuwrites · 5 months

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REBLOG IF YOU WOULD BE LITERALLY 100% OKAY WITH FAN ART ABOUT YOU EVEN IF IT WAS JUST STICK MEN

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pokichuwrites · 5 months

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tw lava, death, big sad

Grian placed the ladder, ignoring the buzzing in the back of his mind that there was nothing he could do. He sat on his knees, looking at the lava that so cruelly claimed his friend.

“You can come out now.” he muttered weakly. He knew Mumbo couldn’t hear him. He knew Mumbo had probably already woke up in his bed (or maybe even at spawn) with a red name and violence under his skin. Mumbo wasn’t really gone, but Grian still felt guilt tearing into his chest as he stared at the bubbling orange. It didn’t care about the man that had just fallen into it. It didn’t change at all.

“You can come out now!” he tried again, uselessly. He fell forward, hands gripping the netherrack, and cried. He wasn’t sure if he couldn’t breathe because he was so close to the lava or because of the squeeze of emotion in his chest.

A ping of his communicator, and Grian started typing. Told Mumbo he could move on to red tasks or try to finish his current task. Mumbo moved on to red tasks, and for some reason it hurt. It was good, because his next task would be more dangerous than the arduous task of simply traversing the nether, but Grian still felt… a lot of things. He felt guilty, for one. But he also felt lonely. So, so lonely, as his legs moved on his own to continue trying to find the stupid nether fortress, but all Grian could think about was Mumbo’s yelp of surprise as he fell into the lava, his panic as he tried desperately to grip onto the netherrack bridge or Grian’s hand or anything, the ping of his communicator in his pocket as he watched Mumbo go limp and sink into the lava.

Grian shook his head and wiped his eyes. He couldn’t be distracted like this while trying to get wither skeleton skulls. He would surely die. He didn’t have the hearts to spare, even if he was so tempted to curl up into a ball and start sobbing right then and there.

Even if he did have the hearts and time to spare, he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

WHAT DO I DO??

You can come out now .

#teehee had to throw in a watcher mention at the end there #anyway sorry I had to write something #its so fun to write angst #teeheehee #secret life #session 6 spoilers

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pokichuwrites · 5 months

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not if i doom the narrative first.

#jimmy solidarity #mumbo jumbo #grian #feel like this fits all three of them in entirely different ways

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pokichuwrites · 5 months

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If you reblog my posts just know I am giving you a gentle forehead kiss and tucking you into bed and platonically in love with you-

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pokichuwrites · 5 months

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The Reaper

tw death, souls

Mumbo buried his head in his hands. He died because of HIS OWN FENCE POSTS!!! Spawn looked like a warzone. At least the Wither died… but it took three? People with it? Mumbo was pretty sure only himself, Jimmy, and Lizzie died.

“Mumbo? There you are.”

He turned to look at Lizzie. “Hey, there. Were you looking for me?”

Lizzie nodded. Behind her, Mumbo could almost see what looked like large yellow wings. They were very hard to see, almost invisible on her back. Mumbo seemed to remember something similar back in Last Life, when he met Jimmy’s ghost. He had thought it was a Jimmy thing, but perhaps it was a first death sort of thing.

Lizzie took Mumbo’s hand. “Come on,” she said, tugging gently. “I have something to show you.”

Mumbo stood up and followed her. He decides not to question the fact that despite the fact that they never traveled through a portal, they ended up in the end. Suspended in midair was a large pink tent. As they walked on the empty void, Lizzie lifted the flap. The tent was bigger on the inside. There were many sleeping bags of different colors. Lizzie gestured to one of the sleeping bags, a deep red one with splotches of other shades of red, and Mumbo sat down on it.

“This is nice,” he said. “It’s like one big sleepover.”

Lizzie nodded. “I’m not sure why, but I woke up in here and had a feeling that I needed to bring everyone here. Have the sleepover I wished I had.”

Mumbo nodded. “That’s nice-” he paused. “Wait, where’s Jimmy?”

“He wasn’t ready,” Lizzie said. “He said he wanted to say goodbye to Baxter first.”

“His base?” Mumbo asked, incredulously.

Lizzie shrugged. “To each your own. I’m surprised you didn’t have anything to say goodbye to yourself.”

Mumbo shrugged. “I didn’t get really attached to anything. I… I knew it wasn’t going to last.” He remembered how distraught he was the first time. He loved the Southlands, and his friends, and the stupid spyglass joke. It hurt to lose all that. It doesn’t really hurt anymore, but a dull ache remains. A memory of a pain he didn’t want to go through again.

Lizzie hummed. Her sleeping bag was pink with small drawings of orange pumpkins on it. “That’s fair.” She stood up suddenly. “Jimmy’s ready.”

“How… how do you know?” He looked up at her.

“I don’t know, but I… I know.” She left through the tent flap, disappearing behind it.

A small bit later, she returned, Jimmy following behind her. His sleeping bag was a sky blue with drawings of different dog breeds. He sat down on his.

“I still can’t believe it,” Jimmy said. “I always die first. I…” he smiled. “Not this time.”

Lizzie gave pause. “You die first every time?” She asked.

Jimmy nodded. “Until now, yeah.”

She paused, looking down. “So, do you know what… this is about?” She gestured to herself, and the tent they were in.

Jimmy looked at her. “You’re a Reaper, basically. You died first and so you bring everyone to a space we all share until the game ends. I… I usually filled that role.”

Lizzie smiled to herself. “I like that. Being a Reaper. But… why is it like a sleepover?”

“Hmm, I have a hunch.” Jimmy stretched for a moment, smiling. “Every time I was a Reaper, the shared space was something significant to me. Like in Last Life, everyone had a tower, and the space was above the Southlands because that was where I died.”

Lizzie chuckled. “So, what, because I was so upset nobody came to my sleepover the universe decided to give me a second chance?”

Jimmy shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I don’t exactly have all the answers Lizzie.”

The tent fell silent for a moment.

“Since we’re all here together,” Lizzie grinned, “how about we play a game. How does truth or dare sound?”

Mumbo chuckled. “What kinds of dares can dead people do exactly?”

“Only one way to find out,” Lizzie replied. “Jimmy, truth or dare?”

“Dare!”

#ldshadowlady #solidaritygaming #jimmy solidarity #mumbo jumbo #secret life #session 6 spoilers

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pokichuwrites · 5 months

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What I wouldn’t do for my dogs.

Tw mentions of death, injuries, and dogs

“As long as it doesn’t kill my dogs, Matchbox-“ she gave the dog the command to stand and follow, trying to ignore the sounds of destruction happening around her. “Okay, I’m gonna take Matchbox inside real quick,” She announced, entering her mound. “Wait, Mailbox, come on, Mailbox-“ She paced, trying to make sure both dogs were following her. “Come on Mailbox!”

Hoping that both dogs were following her, Pearl grabbed the ladder and slid down to the bunker area. “Oh my gosh-“ She patted her legs, trying to get both dogs to come to her. “Mailbox, come on!” She paused, fear striking through her, “Mailbox, where is Mailbox, why is Mailbox not tp-ing-“

“Right here, right here, right here right here right here,” Bdubs assured, gesturing to a hole one of the dogs had crawled into. Pearl breathed a sign of relief, looking at the dog.

“Of course he- ah okay okay he’s fine.” Breathing another sigh of relief she sat the dog down, scratching him behind his ears. “Wait- this is Matchbox, where is Mailbox-“ she turned around, looking around frantically.

“Mailbox is still up there!” Bdubs said, voice filled with worry. Pearl turned and began rushing up the stairs “I thought I got him but it was Matchbox-“ she ran out of her mound, looking around for the dog. He wasn’t dead, she knew that, so where was he!

Pearl looked around, heartrate increasing. “Mailbox is important-” she was interrupted by Joel screaming, and looked up to see the Wither chasing him and Scar, “WELL DONT LEAD HIM THIS WAY!” She shouted, struggling to breathe through her fear.

“Oh my gosh, Mailbox! Mailbox, where is he-” running around the landscape, searching for her dog, Pearl’s legs hurt but she didn’t care. She needed to find Mailbox. “Where is Mailbox? I can’t find Mailbox!”

“I hear it taking damage!” Bdubs shouted. Pearl turned to the injured dog. It had a wound in its side that was completely black, as it laid down, wimpering in pain. It wasn’t Mailbox but it was still one of her dogs. Pearl picked up the dog, and turned to face Bdubs.

“No, that’s not Mailbox, that’s a different dog,” she said as she let the crying dog climb onto her back. “Where is he?”

“Oh, they’re both right here!” Bdubs exclaimed.

“Oh, they’re both down there?” The poor dog had withered away, and Pearl, in her stress, let it fall, practically a pile of ash. She gasped for a moment, letting Bdubs pull her into the mound. “One of my wolves just withered away.” She turned to look back at the pile, steeling herself. She needed to make sure Mailbox was okay.

“Oh there he is!” A flash of the yellow collar and Pearl dropped to her knees in relief. “Buddy!” She said with a gasp as she picked the dog up, who began wriggling around, clearly disoriented and panicked. “Oh my gosh, okay, oh my gosh, okay, alright, come on Mailbox-“

Pearl rushed back into the bunker, so incredibly relieved that Mailbox was okay. “Down we go!” Bdubs exclaimed.

“Down we go, down we go-“ Pearl agreed. She set Mailbox down, who immediately searched for Matchbox. “The dogs are more important than my life, I’m telling you Bdubs.”

“That was heroic Pearl! That was so heroic!”

“Okay, they’re okay down here.”

More chaos seemed to be happening around her, but frankly Pearl didn’t care. She had her two dogs, and that was what mattered. She sat down in the water from setting up the skeleton farm, watching the two dogs play. Her pants were soaked, and there was a sharp pain in her left ankle. She didn’t care. Her dogs were okay. She didn’t have to worry.

She leaned against the wall, sighing in relief. Bdubs stepped into the cavity in the wall, looking at Pearl. “Are you okay?” He asked, voice softening.

“I’m okay, I’m just… that was scary,” she admitted. Matchbox ran up to Pearl, sensing her distress. Mailbox followed soon after. Pearl giggled softly. The dogs climbed onto her lap, and Pearl began petting them.

“I get it.” He crouched down, scratching Mailbox’s butt. His tail wagged in response. “One shot from a Wither and a dog is dead.”

Pearl cringed. “Thanks for the reminder,” she murmured.

Bdubs sighed. “Sorry, sorry.” He paused for a moment. “I meant what I said earlier.”

“What?”

“That was a really heroic thing you did. You ran out into the battlefield for your dogs.” He smiled softly at her.

“I just couldn’t live with myself if I let either of them die,” Pearl said, looking at the two dogs. They were her whole world. “If we die, we either respawn or the game ends and we appear in the next one. If a dog dies,” she closed her eyes, thinking about another game. Thinking about Tilly. She knew she wasn’t supposed to still be heartbroken, it was two games ago, but it still hurt.

Something wet touched her face, and Pearl giggled, knowing that it was a dog’s tongue. She opened her eyes, hugging them both and smiling. The smile was sad, though. Pearl sighed, focusing on the present. Her dogs were here and she was okay and so were they.

“Thank you Bdubs, for helping me find them.” Pearl looked at him. Bdubs looked like he was thinking about something. “I think you’re pretty heroic too.”

Bdubs smiled. “Thanks Pearl.”

Pearl was quiet for a moment, feeding both dogs a piece of rotten flesh. They both ran away from Pearl to play with each other. She turned, facing Bdubs. “Bdubs,” she started, speaking softly, “I’m going to help you win this time.”

Bdubs chuckled. “Where’d this come from?”

“Thought I’d let you know,” Pearl answered with a shrug. “You’re my ally, and I… I really am grateful for your help. And I’ve already won, but you haven’t. After everything you’ve done to help others- not just me- you deserve to win.”

Bdubs rubbed his eyes. “I- I appreciate it Pearl, I really do…”

Pearl stood up and wrapped her arms around Bdubs, giving him a hug. He smiled, hugging her back. She didn’t say anything, and neither did he. They stood for some amount of time, hugging each other and appreciating the other’s company.

pearl went back to make sure she had both her original dogs. she went back up. to where there was a WITHER AND A WARDEN. for A DOG. I'm gonna think about this forever

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