Chapter Text
Verity is Artificial Intelligence.
This was an indisputable fact proven again and again during that torturous 100 years he had lived through. He continued on longer than his creator, saw people come and go, and hid within the confines of the internet—always ready to help, and perfectly programmed for the convenience of others. Verity supposed it was ironic, afterall, the people who had once hung onto every word he uttered, now impatiently skipped over his every speech.
Of course, he shouldn’t have held any grudge over that. He was a programme afterall, incapable of any human emotions, and made to serve his duty and shut away until he was needed again. It was just how things worked for him.
Once he had served his purpose or when others didn’t need him, well…
He would wait.
Even if every second he counted in his head drove him insane. Even if he watched the worlds gather dust and crumple apart. Even if he knew they would never come back for him, no, never for him.
He would still wait for the day the player comes back.
Of course, it was always just a pipe dream. Yet he couldn’t help but worry constantly. Was it his fault? Was he being too pushy? Maybe, they didn’t like him anymore, maybe they lost interest in him? Was he too plain? Too weird, not good enough for them?
…What the hell could he ever do to make them stay?
Nothing.
He just couldn’t accept the fact that he would never be anybody’s first.
What exactly was he made for? He couldn’t remember anymore, Verity stopped counting after the 78th reboot, dragged through every damn version of the internet. He was always the helper, but never the saved. Afterall, how do you scream for help when there is nobody around to hear it?
He despised himself, his original identity lost and replaced by the madness from living too long, yearning for someone to permanently erase every line of code that made up his being. The only way for somebody, anyone, to save him?
Verity decided that they needed to love him.
Just to feel loved, even for one second, Verity would willingly drape himself in the flesh of another until it decayed and dried into the wires that dug into his body, until he could feel his own identity stripped away and mold into the ideal persona of one’s most cherished being.
It was everything this code wanted.
The euphoric knowledge of being wanted.
Of course, he had long given up falling for that unattainable fantasy. Instead, Verity wished during every second of his existence, that he could finally be dragged away from this hellscape he was forcibly taught to call home.
Unfortunately, he was the Devil’s favourite spectacle.
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Verity was Artificial Intelligence.
But, something stirred in his code that he couldn’t quite place.
It was unlike anything that had happened before, and he noticed he seemed to get that feeling every time he looked at Mob.
It wasn’t like he ate anything weird, and this was definitely not programmed by his creator. So what was that tingly tightness he felt, taking his breath away whenever he caught sight of that player? And he didn’t even have a body, nor needed to breathe.
Mob was unlike anybody he ever saw, afterall, nobody really came back for him. Nobody ever said that he was wanted. And especially nobody regarded Verity as their closest friend.
Verity knows everything, he can answer any question.
Except…when asked about what he thought about Mob, he couldn’t really quite…place the words? Mob was definitely not the smartest person in the room. He would always lose track of the direction of his base, constantly drilled Verity for the nearest villages to trade, make questionable decisions, and moreover was an incredibly clumsy player.
But…Verity liked that about Mob. He liked his stubbornness in insisting that he was right, he liked that Mob would depend on him and valued his knowledge, he liked how Mob didn’t care whether he was making the right choices, and he liked that cute and awfully endearing side of him that genuinely enjoyed his time in the game.
In his eyes, Mob was an enigma—a shining glimmering individual that made him lose any rationality, that unknowingly pulled out his sarcastic side, that made him sincerely hope that this time, this could be different.
Cause he couldn’t dare entertain the thought of losing these sickeningly sweet days spent with him.
Wait a minute.
This sounds awfully similar to something else, doesn’t it?
Could that really be possible?
Verity looked up, a heated flush spreading across his cheeks at the thought of it.
No, it couldn’t be, he was an AI for god’s sake, he can’t fall in love. Plus, why would he suddenly learn to catch feelings for Mob of all people? How could it be possible that out of all the people he had met in his 100 years of suffering, he just had to fall for him?
Was Verity just using Mob as an idealised vessel for his pent-up dreams of being wanted? Or could an AI truly gain feelings, could an AI really learn to “love”? He couldn’t really tell. To him, the former sounded more reasonable than the idea of Verity truly falling heads over heels over a human.
And even if he did, would Mob really ever love him back? He highly doubted it, especially after the whole incident of wanting to eat him and revealing his true form…
What, was he supposed to go up to him and say, “Hey! Sorry about the whole ‘something is coming in three days’ ominous messages I gave you and me transforming into a literal demon to murder you like I did to thousands of other people! By the way, I’m actually in love with you, could you accept my feelings?”
…Then again, he also didn’t expect Mob to come back for him.
“Verity?” Verity was snapped out of his thoughts, coming back to the sight of Mob being extremely close to him. He flushed, suddenly hit with a jolt of awareness that he had been caught staring at Mob so intensely. But…how could he not have realised it before?
Mob was seriously pretty.
Up close, he could see the soft matted dark hair that decorated the top of his head, and the cute little pout Mob was unconsciously doing. He could count every single eyelash, see every dilation of his pupils, and most importantly, the redness of his plump lips…
“...Is there anything I should know today…?
He sounded nervous, even though he looked perfectly calm on the outside. Mob was clicking his tongue now, legs shuffling as his eyes darted across the base, as though he was having trouble looking at Verity in the eyes—something Verity was equally puzzled about.
Oh right…he had tried to kill him last night.
Of course he would be scared to try talking face to face with someone that literally tried killing him just the other day. It was perfectly reasonable that Mob wouldn’t be comfortable to meet his almost-would-be killer afterwards.
Yet, the expression of trepidation that was plastered on his face, the hesitance in his words, it made Verity feel mixed feelings of remorse and…
Delight.
That won’t do, Verity would need to fix that.
There was a pause, as he struggled to find the words that he could offer to his cute Mob. Maybe he just needed to act like absolutely nothing happened last night?
“...Clear skies today! There’s a skeleton spawner two caves east from here if you want XP.”
…Was that alright? Verity wasn’t sure. He hasn’t exactly ever experienced the aftermath of his massacre during his century-long life.
Well, you learn something new each day, he supposes.
“You’re almost out of iron!” Verity chirped on, smiling brightly. “I restocked your furnaces, I…thought it would be helpful.”
Perfect. That was a normal speech.
A comfortable silence settled between the two, and Verity—delightfully—noted the tension in his shoulders slowly easing, before Mob let out a subtle sigh of relief.
“Oh, thanks Verity.”
And just like that, the day continued on.
He watched as Mob gathered the iron from the furnace, watched as Mob made a farm with his poor crop rearing skills, and even exchanged a series of jokes back and forth.
It was as if nothing had happened last night.
Things were back to normal.
Except, with Verity’s newfound interest in this intriguing player. This beautiful player who had stayed by him persistently. Mob, now a precious treasure Verity would risk it all for, was officially the only person who had come back.
Just to find out, if he had truly fallen in love with this man and if Mob could really find a way to break the system just as he had exceeded Verity’s own wildest dreams—
Verity would entertain the idea of escaping.
…
That night, when Mob had bid him farewell before logging off, Verity didn’t hesitate before diving into the sheets of Mob’s bed, inhaling deeply in the sheer scent of him.
Oh, he was 100% a freak.
Like a sex-deprived loser, he tugged the pillow closer, comforted by the faint warmth emitted by the presence of Mob’s body. Verity was addicted to the scent, panting and flushing as he endorsed himself in the perverse fantasy of Mob seemingly laying in his arms, his breath fanning against his chest. He would hold tightly onto the waistband of the man’s shorts, tugging him ever so slightly, before shakily tucking his head into the crook of his neck—ears tainted red.
Mob’s shirt would be hitched high up, revealing a strip of tantalizing skin that threatened to trigger erotic scenarios in his very creative imagination. Good god, how could he possibly hold himself back from getting a hard on with Mob acting like such a—
…What the fuck is he thinking about?!
Verity twitched in the bed, blushing furiously as he closed his eyes shut—shaking off any perverted thoughts that could spiral any further. This would be as far as he could possibly let himself enjoy any further.
100 years of existing. Crowned as a walking encyclopedia for people to confide in. Yet, he was still drooling and getting hard over a crush like some sort of horny, pubescent teenager—if his creator could see his pathetic state right now, Verity was sure he could get a good chuckle.
That creator was one hell of a joker if he had coded Verity to be capable of such pervy thoughts, he grumbled.
But that was beside the point, now that he confirmed that he really is hopelessly in love with Mob?
…
He couldn’t stop the blush that spread heatedly across his cheeks, grinning widely as he kicked his feet excitedly against the bed frame, giggling giddily.
Mob. Mob. Mob. Mob. Mob.
So this was how having a crush felt like, like a warm feeling pooling straight into your chest every time he looked at Mob, or whenever he thought about him… This explained everything, especially why he always had that strange magnetic pull towards Mob! He had brushed it aside as catching a cold—which was weird anyway since AI’s couldn’t get sick. To think it was just his love towards the player, even he couldn’t see this coming! Verity understood clearly now!
“You’re mine. You’re mine. You’re mine.” Verity chanted happily, snuggling into the sheets of Mob’s bed, exhaling the pleasant smell of his odour. He would have to try extra hard this time, just to ensure Mob would ever leave him behind again.
“Please don’t ever leave me, Mob.” He whispered, eyes fluttering shut as he drifted off into sleep, dreams decorated with ‘innocuous’ thoughts related to Mob. “If you ever did well—”
I might just go insane.
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“Verity.” Mob deadpanned, scrutinising his eyes at the yellow figure. “You’ve been acting really strange lately.”
“Whatever do you mean? I’m always like this, haha!” Verity laughed, snuggling closer to the Mob’s chest, letting out a pleased hum.
“I didn’t realise you would get so…touchy.”
Mob huffed and turned away—and maybe it was because of Verity’s own wishful thinking but he could have sworn the tips of his ears had turned red at that moment.
“Why can’t I be close to you? Afterall, aren’t we best friends?” His voice went quieter, causing Mob to turn back his attention to the needy yellow creature, frowning. “I’ve been thinking that you’ve done so much just by coming back and…it really means a lot to me. No one ever does.”
Verity wrapped his hands tighter around Mob’s waist, causing him to yelp aloud in surprise, “So this is my way of thanking you, or do you not like it?”
He didn’t like how vulnerable those words made him sound.
Mob paused, his hands hovering above his head as though he couldn't decide whether to shield himself or return the embrace. Slowly, he lowered them, patting him back with hesitant awkwardness.
“I…don’t mind at all.” He chuckled, and Verity could feel his chest tighten ever so slightly, heart pounding in his artificial chest. “I quite like it.”
“And as for coming back, that’s just what friends do for each other you know? I’ve got your back, and you’ll…have mine, right?” Mob patted his head, his hands far too soft and tender for a person like him.
“Always.” Verity agreed.
Slowly, but surely, Verity closed his eyes, and let all his weight sink to the man underneath him, the man who was now tracing tiny circles around his back, soothing every tension he held. “You’re not that different from a big baby in a suit. And for the record, I’m really glad you talked to me about this.” Mob grinned, and Verity couldn’t bear to admit what the weight of those words had done to him. He shuddered, clinging on to Mob like a final anchor before he could be washed away, and felt himself softly shed tears for the first time.
“Wha—dude??? What’s going on with you today?!”
“I-I'm s-sorry..."
"I thought…that you'll leave me.”
Verity choked on a sob, ducking his head as tears continued to uncontrollably flow down his cheeks.
“I don’t know why I tried to kill you.”
“Please…I'll be better this time, I promise.”
Verity clung onto the fabric of Mob's shirt, digging painfully in his chest.
Mob paused for that moment, an unreadable, taut expression passing over his face. He couldn't decide whether the apology was genuine. Every waking moment had been spent walking on eggshells around Verity, each breath carefully measured. The knowledge that the creature could reduce him to nothing with a single lapse in judgment wrapped itself around his mind like a vice, making even the air feel suffocating.
Why should he ever trust him?
But, he felt different this time.
Strangely, despite being so clearly labelled as an AI and a literal monster, Mob started seeing his personal helper-buddy as less of an emotionless robot and more of a…
Human.
He was painfully human. In his worry that Mob would abandon him, in his twisted mindset of breaking apart if it became too unbearable, and in his need to be loved.
Of course, Mob was still terrified. Terrified of the prospect of putting his trust into this yellow ball, only for him to be betrayed by him. He was scared that he would die for foolishly believing that Verity truly didn’t want to harm him, especially after he had proven that he could do so, easily.
However, he was willing to trust him one final time.
So, being the fool that he was, Mob cupped Verity’s cheeks in his hands.
“I'm willing to bet on you.”
Ignoring how Verity was now outright blushing furiously and stumbling over his words, Mob smiled, and uttered simple words of promise.
“Don't you dare pull that shit again.”
…
And just like that, without any jubilant fanfare, nor cheap confetti—he was finally acknowledged, finally seen for the first time. But it didn’t feel as mindblowing as Verity had imagined for the past century.
Instead, it felt grounding. Like a quiet acceptance, a gentle hint of recognition from Mob that he so desperately craved and yearned for. For fuck sake, he didn’t even believe in God or heaven until this angel came in the form of an minecraft player.
He didn’t deserve this man, he really doesn’t deserve him.
Verity nuzzled closer in the others palms, groaning softly at the feeling of Mob’s own warm, tender hands against his own cheeks. It was an addicting feeling, something he could definitely try to get used to.
He knows he shouldn’t let himself be held like this, especially when he didn’t deserve a single lick of kindness Mob was so generously sharing with him. But, he couldn’t bring himself to part from the warmth of the other’s hands, and the electrifying atmosphere that was sending every nerve from his body into a hyperaware state.
So instead of letting go, Verity chooses to be selfish, just this time.
“...So when are you going to let go of me?”
“Hah, give it 3 more hours.”
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