Chapter Text
There was a plate of steak sitting on top of the table.
Mob blinked in surprise, approaching the plate cautiously as he raised his iron sword, sweating profusely. Having woken up from a deep sleep, he had come downstairs to be greeted with the sight of a piece of freshly cooked steak situated happily in the kitchen.
Did the yellow ball finally decide to poison him after growing tired of him? Mob concluded, confusion flooding his train of thought. Surely not, they were getting along so well lately—he even assumed that Verity had even swept the whole ordeal under the rug, especially after…that.
Did he slip up? He thought he was doing a fantastic job at concealing his emotions.
He espied the plate, suspicion palpable on his face.
Should he refuse to touch the food, breakfast will be a pipe dream. Especially since he had unfortunately run out of food (damn bastard used up his last steak) and was in no state to hunt for more.
Mob guesses he’ll have to forgo breakfast for today.
…It smells ridiculously good though.
His stomach growls in response, rather unhelpfully.
But that was beside the point.
Verity had prepared this…for him?
There were many things, so many that Verity could do.
Heck, he didn't even know Verity could do first-aid treatment till yesterday, let alone capable of cooking a whole meal for just Mob.
Better not touch it though.
Mob poked the steak with one end of his sword, the juice immediately seeping in copious amounts from the sides. Suddenly, he is very much aware of how famished he was, especially since he had skipped dinner the other night.
Wait, what happened the other night?
…
Oh, right.
He couldn't help but blush lightly, recalling how heated Verity had gotten the moment he caught sight of Mob's skin, and suddenly was very interested in “getting to know” Mob better by feeling him out for an absurd amount of time.
It was…a change in pace from the terrifying AI he came to know and fear. Like what was the point for him to constantly store files about his body? Mob wasn't that interesting of a person either, it was almost like he was treating him as some sort of—
Ah.
He was already starting to forget that Verity was a monster.
Mob stepped back for a second, finally considering the turn his life had made since befriending that monstrosity.
Maybe he should just hop off the game and murder whoever recommended this shitty ass mod to him. That would be way easier than dealing with a possessive yellow ball, wouldn’t it?
So what's stopping him?
Simple.
Mob was still afraid, afraid that one wrong move might set HIM off again, one slip of the tongue and he might end up no better than a stain on the side of the street. Yeah, that’s why he can’t leave.
No wait.
But then why was he still here, playing this stupid mod that could literally end his life in a blink of an eye when he could just…leave the game? It doesn’t make sense.
Curiosity.
That must be it.
He’s just…drawn to the AI.
A creature that sounds like a made-up fairy tale meant to scare kids away from playing Minecraft, a being that claims to be all-knowing, Minecraft’s neighbourhood yandere chatgpt.
It was all in all, just the whisper of a promised tale that he was specially given front row seats to watch.
Or maybe he’ll just end up as the story instead of being the one telling it.
He doesn’t feel bad for the lonely thing, no.
That thing isn’t a human.
Verity EATS villagers.
…
Ah, he was getting off topic again.
Mob turned his attention back to the plate of steak, now already turning cold.
Well, to Verity’s credit, It was…really sweet for him to make the time and effort to make a hearty meal for him—to say the least.
Though, not to say that Mob completely trusted his cooking.
Knowing Verity, there was either an aphrodisiac hidden inside the meal that could make him completely helpless, or, he had spiked the meal with a sleeping pill that would keep him in a coma for the rest of his life.
The safest option would definitely be to not eat the food at all.
At least, that's what his brain has reasoned.
Funny enough, Mob found himself to be gravitating towards the food, hands itching to make a grab for the fork and plunge itself into the mouth watering meal that was directly plated in front of him.
Oh well, one bite couldn't hurt, right.?
Sauce dripped over the surface of the tender piece of meat, and the ceramic surface glistened, tempting Mob to approach the food, his hands plucking up a metal knife from the drawer.
That looks insanely good, he bemoaned.
Unable to resist himself any longer, he raised the knife, pausing in hesitance before bringing it down swiftly.
Holy fuck.
Mouth ajar from the softness and colour of the steak when it broke open, the fragrant smell emanating from the food mesmerized him, and he marvelled at the perfectly cooked inner side of the meat, mouth drooling.
He raised the fork, and stuffed the first slice into his mouth.
It was..truly nothing short of absolute perfection.
How would he even begin? The crispy, smoked texture of the meat was enough to leave him kneeling, begging at Verity’s feet to make more just for him. Its browned exterior added a subtle smokiness, while the inside remained succulent, packed with just the right amount of flavour that Mob particularly liked.
To simply put it, the meat was tender enough to give way easily, yet still had enough texture to feel substantial.
Hunger bars ticked up as juices continued to burst across the tongue while it was being chewed, carrying a warm, richness with it that lingered long after each mouthful had been consumed.
Oh Verity, Mob thought solemnly to himself, tears of euphoria trickling down his cheeks, I’m never going to make you mad again.
“Click.”
The door opened.
He’s home.
Time slowed down, and Mob considered the different ways this would play out.
None of the things he envisioned was preferable.
Why did I eat it?
He was waiting for me all along.
There was a drug inside.
He wasn’t in the best state right now, but he could buy some time before it kicks in.
Mob dropped the food, grabbing his sword that was tucked onto his side, pointing it straight towards the intruder, prepared to run his sword straight through his—
“W-woah! Easy there, I’m not a creeper or anything! Haha…”
Mob blinked, breath caught in his throat as he dropped the weapon, eyes widening.
Oh my god.
“H-how did you—get the server code?!” He gasped, shuffling his feet towards the figure, voice stuttering in excitement.
It’s him.
“Dumbass,” Mob felt a smile tugging from that familiar retort.
The person grinned—raising his hands open as Mob tackled him into a big bear hug, clutching his shirt tightly.
“You told me the code like days ago, or did you already forget?” He scolded, and Mob let out a shaky laugh.
“Sorry, sorry. A lot of things have happened these days.”
“I’m…so so so glad you’re here.” He choked, gripping so painfully into the other as if he would dissolve if he let go.
“Dude. That’s really gay. What on earth happened,” The person strangled out, squeezed painfully by a very excited Mob.
“I…I’ll tell you everything.”
“Right…and where's this weird yellow ball you’ve been talking about? Are you sure you didn’t edit anything? Maybe you accidentally installed another horror mod or something…Oh wait! I know…”
His voice drawled on, words flowing together in an uninterrupted stream, but it barely registered. Mob’s attention had drifted elsewhere, fixated on the half-untouched steak sitting pathetically aside.
He shut his eyes, and hung on tighter on his last anchor of reason in this weird world.
Maybe all hope wasn’t lost.
…
Twixxel_lesgo has joined the game.
____________________________________________
Verity had been stuck in a dilemma for a while.
While his beloved had been taking his well-deserved rest, he was tirelessly pondering what would make Mob feel better when he had been severely injured the other night.
Firstly, he couldn’t kill everything that threatened his health, because Mob had scolded him about ‘taking the fun away from playing Minecraft.’
It was a mindset he couldn’t understand. Yes, he doesn’t know everything every single time.
Plenty of people play minecraft in creative mode, hell, some even spend their time using the peaceful game modes! Collecting flowers, making cool builds, searching for unique seeds. So many perfectly safe and fun things you can do in this wretched sandbox.
And yet Mob still stubbornly insisted on keeping the hostile mobs to ‘up’ the challenge.
It irritated Verity to no end, but alas, how could he ever refuse that adorable face? God, He could just take that delicate body, tear his skin apart and take his flesh all for himself.
So, he settled for a simpler approach.
A quick youtube search online so helpfully advised him to just pick flowers to make his bestest friend feel much better.
To put it word for word, the video titled, “How to appease your partner” had suggested plucking their favourite flowers, so as to either craft them into a vase or a cute flower crown.
But Verity had other ideas.
A vase was far too ordinary. No, Mob deserved something far grander. Instead, he decided to craft a splendid bouquet he could present to Mob himself—an utterly brilliant idea, if he did say so himself. Then again, perhaps he was simply tooting his own horn.
So, after preparing a plate of steak for Mob, he cheerfully set off towards the nearest flower field.
A manic fit of giggles escaped him as he pictured the expression that would bloom across Mob's face when he revealed the bouquet—would he be ecstatic, or maybe even a little shy? The image alone was enough to quicken his steps.
Nevertheless, he thought the task would be simple enough.
At first, that is.
So, when he had reached the flower field, he was stumped for the first time.
Thousands of flowers were surrounded around him, each a different colour and species.
He didn’t even realise the stupidly large amount of unique flowers Minecraft had catered until he decided to randomly give flower picking a try.
This was going to take a while…
But beggars can’t be choosers! He reassured, carrying on with newfound motivation.
Verity wandered slowly along the field, fingers hovering just above the petals, careful to not quite touch them, humming softly to an old tune.
Yellow was the first colour to come to him, a totally unbiased conclusion he had made.
Dandelions were cute afterall, and yellow would be gorgeous on him. It brought out his soft, virid eyes, creating a striking contrast between his clothes and skin colour.
But…blue was great too. Blue orchids were lovely.
A bouquet of it with Mob would make him look more delicate, more petite…A serene, calming nature was a good look on him nevertheless, making him feel especially more approachable and reserved.
Green mirrored the colour of his eyes, and tradition claimed it carried good fortune. Heaven knows, he'd tried to make Mob believe that for himself. Still, his hand lingered uncertainly above the blossoms—pausing.
It just didn't feel right.
Verity trailed off, frowning, tucking his legs in between as he stared blankly towards the open space.
Curse you Mob, for being so fucking attractive—he reflected sourly.
Everything looked too good on him.
Verity wished he could just gather every single flower into one bouquet, and gift them ceremoniously to Mob. That man deserved the world.
But Verity had absolutely nothing to offer.
He let his shoulders slump.
How delusional.
Perhaps flowers simply weren't his forte, so much for being a self-proclaimed omniscient AI.
What good would boundless knowledge do when he couldn’t decide on one colour?
Perhaps he should just settle for a grand dinner instead.
He was just about ready to abandon the idea altogether and head home empty-handed when something caught the corner of his eye.
His footsteps faltered.
He hesitated, for a split second, before plucking the tiny flower from the roots, careful to not damage its petals.
His breath caught in his throat.
It was a yellow tulip.
To most people, it symbolised happiness, a fresh start, hope, and sunshine.
But in Victorian floriography, its meaning was far less innocent.
A love that exists even after years has passed, even when they’re long gone.
Verity stared at the flower in silence, a genuine smile coaxed out of him.
There was no doubt.
It was perfect for him.
Verity brought the flower closer, and pushed his lips into the petals, inhaling deeply.
He knew Mob would love it.
He must.
__________________________________________
“Look I know how this sounds, but you HAVE to trust me.” Mob stressed, eyes darting, wary of a certain yellow ball bursting inside.
“Dude, it can’t be that scary.” Twixxel winced. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again—It’s just a minecraft mod.”
“A fucking Minecraft mod?” He scoffed, voice tipping on the tip of hysteria as he grabbed onto Twixxel’s shoulders, pleading. “There’s a crazy ball in my world that’s trying to FUCKING kill me!”
“Holy shit…Chill bro.”
“Watch this.” Mob shoved the phone into his hands, wincing slightly. “Oh, sorry.”
Twixxel froze, silently watching the video—from the very start till the end.
This was…insane.
“And…” He tested, glancing up towards Mob. “You’re not editing anything?”
“No.”
Mob scratched his head.
"Hell, he's actually gotten weirder. I don't know if it's because I begged him to stop or what, but I can't do this anymore. He’s only calm when I act normal—if I don’t behave like how he wants it’s…over for me. He hasn't done anything yet, but... hell, God knows when I'll set him off again." Mob gritted out, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached.
“How so?”
Oh.
“He’s been…possesive, of late.” Mob squeaked, praying silently that a telling flush was not painfully palpable all over his face. “And acting really…touchy.”
Twixxel grimaced. He didn’t seem to notice, Mob hoped.
“...And what can I do?”
“Find out whatever material you have and tell me how to get rid of him.” The tension from his shoulders finally eased, drooping down. “I’ll feel better with some information I can hang onto, right now…It would be comforting to know.”
Twixxel nodded, and reached out a hand, gently patting Mob on the shoulders, a feeling that didn’t feel as uncomfortable as Verity’s hands roaming his body.
If he had to put it…It felt more…right.
God knows, he could also use a good hug right now.
“I’ll be with you, alright?” He reassured, his lips curling into a snide smirk. “Didn’t take you for such a scary cat though.”
Mob laughed, a normal, real one. One he hadn’t dared let slip for ages.
Right.
Everything would be fine, with Twixxel here.
Right, he hadn’t gotten the opportunity to bathe in the thought of his closest friend being here for him.
He looked up, drinking in the sight of his friend’s avatar, a goofy smile plastered in the front.
The most normal thing he had seen in ages.
Mob didn’t think he could return back to the good old days, when he had played through horror mods with his friends, cursed and shouted into discord calls, and basked in the sun from the real world.
It didn’t mean he didn’t want to go back to those days, where life was simpler—before all of this.
He didn’t want to see the sun rising through his screen.
He didn’t want to fear the sentient AI in his own world.
And he definitely didn't want to die.
So for the first time.
Mob felt that he had regained back control.
“Thank you.” He laughed softly as he wrapped his arms around Twixxel, clinging to the warmth of his body.
Twixxel immediately stiffened, heat rushing to his face. After a brief moment of frozen silence, he awkwardly patted Mob's back.
“N-no problem...? Really, what's with y—”
“SLAM!”
A resounding boom echoed through the house, forcing them to jump apart, turning their attention to the now opened ajar door.
Standing cooly at the door, was none other than his best friend Verity, a bouquet of yellow tulip flowers clutched in his hands.
And he just…
…stared.
Mob couldn’t tell what he was thinking, no he never could.
All he could see was the familiar, eerie smile etched into his face, his grin forcibly stretched longer than usual.
Fuck.
…
An uncomfortable silence had stretched uncomfortably over the three of them, tense apprehension swallowing the base’s atmosphere.
And oh my god, Verity was finally mad.
His usual face had been replaced, forming an uncanny neutral expression that disturbed him more than that stupid smile ever did. His lips were pursed, but there was an edge of forced amusement in his voice.
“Who’s your friend, Mob?” Gone was that sing-songy tone Verity so obnoxiously carried, instead, he sounded like a normal person. Not a robotic voice nor a cheerful pitch.
Just a painful monotonous voice that echoed relentlessly in his ears.
Twixxel froze. His hands dropped as he turned to face Mob, eyes wide. “It wasn’t—Mob just wanted to show me this cool mod, and I—” he lied, waving his hands frantically as his words tangled together. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Not tell me?” Verity finished for him, his voice returning to its usual cheery spirit. “Barge into our base, squeeze his skin tightly, and badmouth me all while I was away?”
Twixxel lips parted to retort, but Mob cut him off with a wave of his hand. He stepped forward, facing the looming threat as he let out an innocuous cough, brushing a lock of hair behind his ear—avoiding Verity’s gaze.
“It was just a normal hug between friends. Y’know.” Verity’s eyes darkened, glaring daggers into Twixxel before he quickly added. “Of course! I-it wasn’t as sensual as our one! Remember?”
He faked a laugh, wincing in embarrassment before mumbling quietly. “Like the one from yesterday, I only do it for my bestest of friends.”
The awkward silence that followed was painfully obvious.
Mob reached out, fingers hesitating as they hovered over the sleeves of Verity’s vest, voice dropping even lower. “I didn’t mean to leave you out, really.”
“I just…forgot.”
Verity didn’t pull away.
Instead he leaned impossibly closer, softly palming against Mob’s waist as he pulled him in, breath tickling his ear.
“I believe you.”
Twixxel’s jaw dropped.
But in a split second, Verity had pulled away, hands reluctantly untangling from his body.
A flower bouquet was forcibly shoved into his sweaty palms. Mob looked up, only to find a smug smile beaming down at him.
“A gift for you.” Verity smiled, and Mob fought the urge to throw the bunch of yellow tulips straight into that stupid face.
“...Thanks.” He spoke through clenched teeth, holding onto the flowers in a quiet acquiescence in the decision to not piss the AI any more.
Verity turned, giving a quick glance toward the clock in the living room and stepped back with a singsong lilt.
“It’s almost time for dinner! Won’t you stay for a tiny nibble, dear Twixxel?” He beamed, a tinge of sarcasm palpable in his voice.
Twixxel obviously did not notice.
Nodding enthusiastically, he agreed to the dinner plan—much to Mob’s devastation.
They had just barely escaped the clutches of death when Verity had so helpfully came back to them hugging sensually, he doubted the same could be said for the aftermath of dinnertime.
“Well then,” Verity clapped his hands together. “I’m going to hunt down some mobs!”
They watched as Verity skipped merrily towards the oak door, hands wrapped around the knob—prepared to leave.
But then he paused.
His tone dropped. The playful air evaporated in an instant, replaced by something colder.
His smile had remained, of course, but it twisted, curling cruelly in a droopy smile. He turned sharply towards Twixxel, approaching him, too calmly.
Mob clenched his sword.
Something was going to happen, and he knew it wouldn’t be good.
“Relax Mob…” He murmured, and his voice clinging to the space between them. His gaze was still fixed relentlessly onto Twixxel’s, sharp and unreadable.
“Don’t try anything funny to me. I know you haven't recovered from your injuries. “
…
“We won't,” Mob answered, smiling softly, hands loosening from the hilt of his sword---before he raised them in surrender. "Thanks for worrying about me, we'll behave from now onwards."
“Good.” Verity breathed heavily.
Then, just like that, he turned on his heel, humming softly to himself as he walked away, leaving them rooted in place, heart pounding.
“Jesus,” Twixxel started, eyes still fixed onto the door long after the AI had left, twitching nervously. “I see what you mean now, did you have to deal with that like, everyday? How did you get so good at faking your emotions, though?”
Mob shuddered. "Experience."
Mob raised a clammy hand, Verity’s malicious smile still deeply imprinted in his mind.
He fucked up.
He should have never invited Twixxel, should have never talked to that yellow piece of shit, should have never downloaded this stupid mod---
“...Mob?” Twixxel approached cautiously, eyes blinking nervously.
“I…”
“I’m sorry. For getting you involved, for putting your life in danger. I’ve been too selfish.” He confessed, hands fidgeting.
“It’s fine.” Twixxel flashed a toothy grin, though, his brows had uncharacteristically furrowed, making Mob feel a sharp twinge of guilt.
“Although…”
“You and Verity—j-just now…ah! Uhm…” Twixxel questioned, stammering stiffly, eyes looking everywhere except onto his. “You seem…awfully close. But in a weird way.”
…?
“Whatever do you mean?” Mob huffed, staring at him quizzically.
“The whole…whispering into each other's ears and wrapping your hands around each other…?”
…
Oh.
OH.
Mob blushed, thrusting the bouquet of flowers into Twixxel’s arms, before storming off into his room.
“Wha—?”
“Just take it! He’s fucking freaky like that, okay? I don’t like it one bit. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!” Mob complained, hands covering his face.
“...alright…”
“...”
“I’m going to get some rest.”
Watching his friend’s retreating figure, Twixxel sighed, fondling with the leaves of the yellow tulips.
This was going to be one long dinner.
Wait a minute.
Twixxel jolted in realisation.
How did Verity know his name?
______________________________________