Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Cold metal presses to his skin, right under his jaw. His decision was made, his mind made up, this was the only way to end this. The only thing he regrets is Verity being the last thing he sees.

His finger presses the trigger without hesitation— Verity knows everything, he had to make this quick.

As the bang rings out Mob is suddenly tossed to the side. He slams into the wall of Verity’s bunker, his head buzzing and his ears ringing. Everything goes dark for a second, his body was numb and limp on the ground, he could feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins as his heart pounds in his chest.

Did he do it?

Darkness does not fill his vision after a couple of seconds. The ringing in his ears begin to fade, expect for his right ear. The constant ringing lingers, accompanied with a sudden sharp pain that doesn’t go away.

Verity’s here, in his monster form, Mob can see him hovering over him through the blurriness in his eyes. He’s frozen in place, stuck, only able to twitch his fingers.

“Why would you do that, Mob?” Verity asks, not in his usual chirpy tone. No, his voice was demented, corrupted, so unnatural that Mob could hardly understand what he was saying.

”You promised that you wouldn’t leave.” Verity continues, audible anger and rage seething in his tone. His face hovered right over his own, his beady black eyes unrelentingly staring into Mobs own green eyes. His face was horrifying, misshapen sickly flesh and a jaw full of giant, sharp teeth.

Mob was rightly terrified, unable to react, move, talk— or do anything! His terror has himself frozen in place, choking on his own breath, his pain long forgotten and replaced with fear.

“Have you forgotten? You’re mine, Mob. Mine!” Verity practically screeches, his breathing ragged, his monster body trembling and seething with rage.

All Mob can do is wish that this ends soon.

After another couple of seconds of Verity’s ragged breathing he backs off, standing up to his full height before his attention falls to the gun thrown across the hallway.

He walks over to it, putting intentionally into every footstep. When he gets to it he grabs the gun in his twisted looking hands and snaps it in half like it was a fucking twig.

He curls his fingers around it, crushing the metal even more before letting the pieces fall to the ground. The metal hits the ground with a sharp clatter, making Mob flinch at the sudden noise.

Mob watches with muted horror at the sight, his breathing picking up as panic curls around his lungs. His chest feels heavy and his heart wouldn’t stop racing, his eyes unable to look away from Verity.

Verity looks back at him with a smile, his lips curling upwards, showing off his yellow teeth.

Mob manages to close his eyes, silent tears falling from them as his panic starts to consume himself.

He missed. He fucking missed. How did he miss?

“Mob?” Verity’s familiar chipper voice rings out. “Hey, Mob, that is a bad spot to rest. It will be night soon, we need to get back to your base!”

Mob forces his eyes open, coming face to face with the yellow ball. Verity was not far from him, he was right by his shoulder, almost touching him.

Mob just stares for a second, his panicked breathing the only thing he could hear, aside from the ringing in his ear.

“Mob, it’s time to go.” His tone became a little more strained and serious, his black eyes never looking away from his own. When Mob doesn’t move he nudges his arm, as if he was trying to encourage Mob to get up and leave.

Mob snaps out of his daze at the touch, rapidly sitting up and clutching a hand to his chest. His breathing was still uncontrollable, his hands were shaking and numb and his head felt like it was going to explode.

“It appears that you are experiencing a panic attack.” Verity points out, very unhelpfully, might he add. “Breathe in for three seconds.” Verity tells him, patiently waiting for him to listen.

Mob doesn’t, moving himself to lean against the wall. He stares at his hands, at how much they were violently trembling. His vision was blurred from tears, each time he blinked them away it came right back.

His eyes kept darting to the broken gun on the ground, the gun that he held to his jaw and pressed the trigger but he missed.

He fucking missed.

Verity stopped him.

And now— now he was stuck with Verity for the rest of his god damn life!

This stupid, controlling, jealous little magic eight ball was what he wanted to escape from! But— was killing himself the only way?

It seemed like it in the moment, like he had no choice. He just needed an escape, a way out from this. After trying and failing multiple times, and after losing Twixxel— Mob doesn’t know what to do now.

How was he going to live with himself now?

“Breathe in for three counts, Mob.” Verity’s voice cuts through his own scattered thoughts, pulling him out from the darkness that was consuming his mind.

Verity was on his lap now, staring up at him with a rather concerned look on his face.

“Take a deep breath,” Verity instructs, and Mob listens, breaking his hyperventilation to take a shaky breath in, “and hold for three seconds.” Mob does, blinking away tears. “Exhale for three seconds.”

“Good. Very good. Keep going, breathe in for three seconds.” Verity continues without missing a beat, helping Mob through his panic. It doesn’t take long for Mob to calm down, his breathing returning to somewhat normal, albeit very shaky.

Feeling returns to his limbs, and his hands weren’t trembling anymore. He was just left feeling… empty, and scared. Nervous for what lies ahead. But the terror was not all overwhelming anymore.

He picks Verity up with both his hands, not missing the way Verity seems to sink into his hold.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Verity.” Mob hoarsely says, wiping away the tears on his face. It was starting to burn his face, and he could tell he was definitely going to be left with marks the next day.

“It’s okay, Mob.” Verity smiles at him. “If you ever try something like that again, there will be more severe consequences.”

Mob clears his throat, glancing away for a second.

“Right, of course.” Mob says, feeling the awkward tension between them. As the adrenaline leaves his system he can feel the burning pain coming from his ear and the side of his head.

His neck and shoulder also felt wet. His eyes look down to see blood soaked into his cloak, droplets sliding down it and onto the ground. A small puddle of blood surrounds him.

He reaches a hand out to it, feeling his ear that was practically blown off— there was just rough pieces of flesh left behind. He also realizes that his hearing is gone in his right ear.

Oh god— he blew his ear off!

“That’s quite the nasty injury you gave yourself!” Verity points out. “As well as the marks on your face. How did you get those?”

Mob lets out a shaky breath, bringing his bloody hand back and wiping away any other tears he may have missed.

“I’m part enderman, Verity, water burns my skin.” Mob explains, feeling how rough his face feels. A dull ache thuds through his whole body, specifically his rib cage. Verity really tossed him into the wall.

“I see! Here, a healing potion. This should help.” Verity spawns the potion out of nowhere beside him, the dark red liquid faintly glowing in the bottle.

Mob sets Verity back down in his lap, picking up the potion and downing it in one go.

Immediately he feels better, the ache and stinging from his face disappearing. The pain from his ear fades to a dull ache, until eventually disappearing. His hearing returns, muted at first before he can hear clearly. But his ear does not come back.

“Much better. Let’s go home now, it’s been a long day for you!”

Mob grabs Verity and shakily stands, nearly stumbling backwards, not looking back as he leaves the bunker, walking off into the night.

——

Mob wakes with a start.

The smell of gunpowder fills his nose and ringing explodes in his right ear. His hand instinctively goes to the side of his head, expecting to feel his ear but all he felt was rough skin where his ear should have been.

He throws the covers off himself, scrambling to the small mirror that was hung on the wall.

The person staring back at him looked wrong. He didn’t recognize himself.

His ear was gone, only a jagged piece of flesh left behind. The scar looked horrible, it stood out against his dark skin like an eye sore, a permanent reminder that he fucking missed.

He meets his trembling green eyes in the mirror, noting that his pupils were slits, how the bags under his eyes were only getting worse. He drags a hand down his face before pushing his dreads back behind his head.

“Good morning, Mob!” Verity’s voice rings out, startling Mob. He pushes away from the mirror so fast he dislodges it from the wall, sending it crashing to the ground with a loud bang! Glass shards fly out on impact, scattering across the wooden floor, the sound of glass breaking echoing through the house.

Mob’s eyes flicker from the glass shards on the floor to where Verity sits atop the crafting table, watching him with a smile. He feels like a deer in headlights, unsure if he should run or just accept his fate.

The sun was already streaming in through the windows, the light catching the broken shards of glass and reflecting throughout the house.

“V- Verity?” Mob eventually chokes out, straightening his back, letting out the breath he had been holding in. Last nights memories returns to him, slowly.

“Yes, Mob?” Verity asks, waiting for him to continue. Mob glances down at his hands, his claws becoming the most interesting thing in the world for a second.

“Do I need to know anything today?” Mob asks the familiar question— it’s the only thing he could think of right now—but it feels off after what happened. He looks back up at Verity slowly.

“It’s going to rain today, you should make sure you bring protection!” Verity replies, his expression changing to one of content.

Mob lets out a shaky breath, nodding his head.

“Thats… actually pretty helpful, thanks, Verity. I don’t need anymore burns from the rain.” Mob looks back at the glass shards on the ground with a frown. “Verity, what is the best way to clean up glass?”

“First, you should put shoes on, you don’t want glass shards in your feet!” Verity suggests. “Gloves will be necessary, as well.”

Mob does as he says, going over to his wardrobe. He grabs a black shirt and puts it on, putting his black trousers on before lacing up his dark leather boots. The bandages on his arms stayed on over the night, so he just tightens them before grabbing his leather gloves.

“What’s under those bandages, Mob?” Verity ask innocently, but Mob knows better. Verity must have been watching him get dressed and saw him adjusting them. He’s never taken off his bandages around Verity, nor has he really shown Verity the bandages on his arms before.

“Nothing.” Mob lies, adjusting his black gloves before turning back to Verity.

“Don’t lie to me.” Verity shoots back quickly, his voice taking an edge to it.

Mob blinks in surprise before frowning, his nose twitching in discontent.

“I don’t have to tell you. It’s personal.” Mob responds curtly, before he goes to pick up the glass. It really wasn’t anything serious, Mob just didn’t want to tell Verity. The stupid yellow ball doesn’t get to know everything about him.

Verity doesn’t push it any further, thankfully, instead he watches Mob clean up the broken mirror and throw it away.

After sweeping up the rest of the shards, Mob decides he can’t stay here anymore.

Twixxel’s house right beside his own brought back dark memories. When he glances at it each time he swears he sees the trail of blood left behind, the dark night that it happened flashing into his mind.

The house he was in did not feel safe anymore. Countless memories came to mind when he thinks about it for too long, and the fact that he shared it with Verity did not help.

Though, it is not like Mob can get rid of Verity. All his attempts have failed.

There was one thing he hadn’t tried.

Mob was a traveller, always coming and going from world to world. He had heard of this world from his friend and decided to check it out— what a fucking mistake that was.

But, Mob wondered if Verity could follow him to another world. Was it possible? Verity had said he’d been in others worlds before, but was he able to leave one to go to another?

It was his only chance at ridding himself of Verity, besides trying to kill himself again. The way Verity reacted to his first, failed attempt terrified Mob about what would happen if he were to fail again.

At least right now there seemed to be some kind of normalcy between the two of them, notably tense, by all means.

So, Mob begins to pack the few things he has.

He stuffs his extra pairs of clothes into a bag, not bothering to fold them neatly, before moving onto the food he had laying around, which wasn’t much.

Verity watches everything, never taking his eyes off of Mob. Mob can feel his gaze burning into his back as he picks up his sword, inspecting it.

“Put the sword down, Mob.” Verity’s voice rings out from where he sits atop the crafting table. He sounded slightly upset, his tone tense and serious.

Mob looks over at him, then back at his diamond sword.

“What’s wrong with the sword?” Mob asks, confused. Did he craft it wrong or something?

“You don’t need it.” Verity answers simply.

“What? How will I kill animals for food or protect myself from mobs—“

“You have me. I can give you food and keep you safe.” Verity cuts him off. “Leave the sword behind.”

Mob stares at him for a second, taken aback.

“Wait, Verity, I need my sword, I can’t just leave it behind! I spent all that time getting the diamonds and enchanting it, it’s the best sword I’ve ever had!” Mob stresses, glancing down at the blade.

Why is he being so annoying?

“You can get a better one later!” Verity chirps, suddenly breaking out of his dark demeanor. “We are packing up and leaving this place, no? While exploring I am sure we will encounter something more worth your while.”

“Alright, if you say so, man.” Mob puts the sword down, though he wants to take it, really wants to take it, he’ll leave it behind to avoid… whatever was going on.

Eventually he gets everything packed that he wants to take. The last thing he does is throw his cloak on, if it were to rain it would protect him from any water getting on his skin.

He pulls the hood up, clasping the cloak with a gold pin and pulling up the fabric that hides his mouth and nose, concealing his face in darkness.

He slings his bag over his shoulder, longingly looking at his sword one last time before he goes to grab Verity.

“Where are we going, Mob?” Verity asks as Mob picks him up in one hand, before placing him in his front pocket. Verity turns so he could still look at him.

“Away from here.” Mob answers, opening the door and stepping out. Clouds filled the sky, darkening the further out he looks.

“It’s going to rain, maybe we should wait out the storm?” Verity suggests. “I’m sure you’re still probably tired, it’s been an eventful morning!”

“It’s fine.” Mob says, not breaking stride as he leaves the walls of his base behind. “The rain can’t touch my skin through this.” He tugs on his cloak, he paid a lot of money for it since it was water proof and shielded most of his body from the outside world.

“It’s going to be a bad storm, Mob. You should wait.” Verity’s voice takes an edge to it again. “While we wait we can figure out where we are going!”

Mob shakes his head, ignoring the faint feeling of uneasiness that curls in his stomach. He knows if he doesn’t leave now, he may be stuck in that house forever.

“Nah, we’ll be fine.” He hums, giving Verity a reassuring pat. “I am traveller, Verity, I’ve been through many bad storms before! This is nothing new to me.” He hopes he’s being reassuring, or just convincing. He can’t stay at the house for another day.

“I just wish I had a horse or donkey to carry my stuff though.” He shrugs, but keeps on walking. “I guess that’s why I always pack light, don’t have to worry about all that extra stuff weighing you down.”

“Where are we going, Mob?” Verity asks again.

“I don’t know.” Mob admits, and it’s true. He doesn’t know where he’s going. Just away… from there.

“I used to be on the road all the time, you know? Traveling from place to place, exploring, trying new things!” He leaves out the parts where he would travel with his friends and meet new people along the way.

“I don’t see why I should stop. Anyways, I have you now as my traveling companion— you’ll be able to help me find cool stuff, right?” Mob asks him.

“Traveling companion?” Verity asks, before his smiles widens. “Of course! That sounds fun. Just you and me, on the road. It’s an adventure!”

“Exactly!” Mob agrees. “You’ve probably never gone traveling before, huh? I’ll have to teach you the ways.”

Verity looks very pleased, settling into his pocket as Mob continues on his way, not looking back at his house once.

——

“Maybe we should have waited out the storm.” Mob says to Verity, he has his back to a tree and is using his cloak to protect his bag and Verity from the wind and rain.

Verity just gives him a I told you so look.

Lightning lights up the sky all around them, the thunder blaring in his ears. The wind was relentless, whipping rain against him.

“You should have listened to me.” Verity says in a rather know-it-all tone.

“Nah, this is all part of the adventure. But, just curious, is there a cave nearby?” Mob asks, offering Verity a small smile.

“There is a cave fifty feet to your left.” Verity answers.

“Perfect! Let’s go.” Mob scoops Verity and his bag up, making a dash towards the cave.

“Thats your right, Mob.”

“Oh shit, you’re right!” Mob turns on his feet and starts running the correct way, making a mad dash through the wind and rain, trying his best not to get any water on his face. He could hardly see anything in front of him from how thick the rain was.

Finally, he makes it to the cave, practically sliding inside. He falls on his ass, dropping Verity and his bag in the process.

He lays on the cold ground for a second, out of the rain and wind, taking in deep breaths as he watches it down pour outside.

“Real smooth landing.” Verity’s voice rings out from the cave.

“You’re welcome for getting you out of the rain!” Mob says, sitting up and glancing at the yellow ball. He was giving him a very unimpressed look.

“It’s a miracle you’ve survived this long on your own.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a miracle that- that…” Mob trails off, unable to come up with a retort back.

“That what?” Verity asks, and Mob huffs, glancing away.

“Verity, can I ask you something?” Mob glances back at him, moving himself to lean against the stone wall of the cave.

“Ask me anything, I know everything.” Verity smiles at him.

“Right… how can you turn into a monster?” Mob asks, watching Verity’s expression falter for a second. “Are you able to turn into anything else, maybe something friendlier?” Mob decides to continue, flicking water off his cloak nervously as he stumbles through the right way to approach this conversation.

Thunder roars from outside, lightning lighting up the cave for a split second.

“I take whatever form is most convenient. Are you saying that this is not convenient?” Verity asks, rolling closer to Mob.

“What! No, of course not.” Mob back tracks, shaking his head. “I like the… yellow thing you got going on, and the ball shape. It’s great, actually. Wouldn’t change a thing.”

Verity gives him a disbelieving look.

“You’re lying again.”

Mob opens his mouth to continue lying but stops himself.

“All I’m trying to say is, maybe instead of the monster form, you could be something… nicer? Like, not terrifying, at least for me. You can be scary to other things anytime you want.” Mob rambles— he’s lost the point he was trying to make and feels like he’s just making this much, much worse.

“Do I scare you, Mob?” Verity asks, very seriously. Mob shuts his mouth, his eyes meeting Verity’s. This motherfucker can tell whenever he lies, somehow, but will he be fine with the truth? It’s always a fifty-fifty with this guy.

“Yeah, you do.” Mob says, his voice shakier than he’d like to admit.

Verity looks away, his expression carefully neutral.

“The— the monster, that is. That scares me, a lot.” Mob laughs nervously. “I never did well with jump scares or anything like that, as I’m sure you can tell. Um, Verity, I’m sorry—“

“Don’t apologize.” Verity cuts him off, looking back at him. “It’s totally understandable, Mob! I’m glad you told me, I don’t want to scare my best friend.” Verity smiles warmly.

“I’ll do my best not to scare you from now on.” He promises.

Mob lets out a breath, a faint smile on his lips.

“Thank you, Verity. I appreciate it, man.” Mob picks Verity up, bringing him to be eye to eye.

“So, how long will this storm last?”

“All night! You better get comfortable.”

“Great…” Mob groans, throwing his head back. “Good thing I have some wood for a fire.”

Mob gets to work setting up a fire, using some dry debris in the cave as kindling for the flame. He waits until night falls and the cold starts to creep in before lighting it.

He eventually dries off, which thank god his cloak was water proof, otherwise he’d be in a lot of pain right about now.

He sits by the fire, with Verity close beside him, staring at the flickering flames. The warmth was much appreciated, he holds his fingers closer to the flames to try and chase out the cold.

“Don’t burn yourself.” Verity reprimands when Mob gets a little too close to the flames.

“It’s fine, Verity, look— ouch!” Mob pulls his hands back after one of the flames almost burns the shit out of him, flapping his hand to cool it down.

“What did I tell you?” Verity sighs, shaking his head at him.

“Alright, whatever.” Mob huffs, inspecting his finger. It was thrumming from the heat, but otherwise untouched. It would be fine.

“Do you sleep, Verity?” Mob asks as he yawns. He was exhausted, the constant lull of the rain was making him even more tired. At least the lightening and thunder had stopped.

“No, I wait.” Verity answers.

“Do you watch me sleep?”

“Sometimes.” Verity says. Mob laughs nervously at that.

“Right… it must get boring at night. Not sure how entertaining watching me sleep is, though.” Mob rubs the back of his neck, feeling rather awkward and uncomfortable at that news.

“It’s more of keeping watch over you.” Verity explains. “Protecting you while you sleep. With your luck, something bad would happen when you’re most vulnerable.” Verity smiles.

“Someone has to keep you safe.”

Mob glances at Verity, trying his best to ignore the red flags blaring in his head.

“Huh. I guess.” He shrugs. “You don’t have to keep watch over me, though. I’ll be fine.”

Verity just smiles at him, but he doesn’t say anything.

“You should get some sleep, I’ll keep an eye on the fire!” Verity suggests.

“Yeah, sure. There’s more wood over there.” Mob nods towards the small stack of twigs in the corner. He grabs his bag, laying down and using it as a pillow.

“Goodnight, Verity.” He yawns, curling in on himself, using his cloak as a blanket. The ground wasn’t very comfortable at all, the cold from the ground seeped through his clothes and sucked any warmth he had from his body.

It was familiar, though, sleeping the night away in a cave with a fire burning. The crackling of the flames lulled him to sleep quickly, warmth slowly chasing away the cold.

His mind drifts off to sleep, the thoughts that had been eating him alive all day quieting down just enough for him to sleep.

“Goodnight, Mob.”

——

“Mob, don’t touch the water—“ Verity exclaims, right as Mob dips his hand into the stream, filling up his cup.

“Mob!” Verity exclaims, rolling over so fast to him that it surprises Mob he could even move that quick.

Mob pulls his hand out of the water, shaking off the water before glancing back at Verity.

“Why would you do that?! Your hand is going to be burned!” Verity exclaims, trying to get a good look at the hand in question.

Mob just glances down at his hand before wiping the rest of the water away on his pants.

“It only burns if it sits on my skin for a while.” Mob explains, taking a big gulp from his cup. Currently his cloak was off, thrown to the side, as well as his shirt. His dark skin soaked up the sun— though, that was exactly what he wanted to escape.

Ever since that storm it was only getting hotter and hotter. He was by the river trying to cool down, debating whether or not he should splash himself with water to cool off.

His bandages stay on, though. Much to Verity’s dismay. Mob knows that it was eating the yellow ball up inside, he could tell Verity wanted to know what exactly lay underneath them.

“Huh.” Verity says, disbelieving, but Mob shows him his hand. It was a little tingly, but it’s not burned. He would need much longer skin exposure to the water before it started to cause any long lasting damage.

“See? I’m fine.” Mob shrugs, grabbing a stone and attempting to skip it on the water. It doesn’t work, just plopping into the river with a splash.

“Those bandages aren’t looking to… sanitary. You should change them— here’s some new ones!” Verity suggests, bandages suddenly appearing out of nowhere. “You don’t want to get an infection.”

Mob just blinks at Verity.

“Nice try, but no thanks.” Mob says, trying to skip another stone. “You don’t get to see what’s underneath.” He scoffs, absentmindedly rubbing one of his bandages.

“What if I looked away? Would you change it then?” Verity asks, suddenly super serious. It takes Mob slightly by surprise, glancing back at the yellow ball with a skeptical look.

“You would do that? You promise you wouldn’t look?” Mob asks suspiciously. He’s not sure if he trusts Verity’s word.

“I promise, Mob. I don’t lie.” Verity smiles, nudging the bandages towards him.

Mob looks down at his arms. His current bandages looked pretty rough, sweat stained and collecting dirt on the fibers. He definitely needed to change them for fresh ones. He gives Verity another look before grabbing the new bandages that were nearly wrapped.

“Fine… but you have to go over there.” Mob points to a tree not to far away. “If I see you look around it, I’m never ever showing you my arms. Got it?”

Verity nods, a smile on his face.

“Of course, Mob! Let me know when you are done.” Verity says, before rolling away across the stones and dirt to go hide behind the tree.

Mob watches him, and waits to see if he’ll try to look, but he never does. He exhales, the tension in his shoulders dissolving as he turns his attention to his arms.

He pulls the bandages off, tossing them to the side, revealing his rather ugly scarred arms. Old burn wounds cover his flesh, a notably lighter color, the skin wasn’t smooth, either, instead bumpy and rough.

Mob doesn’t look at them for long. He goes to the water and splashes himself down, occasionally glancing back at the tree every now and then to see if Verity was watching.

The monster keeps his promise. He doesn’t look once.

He dries himself off quickly, patting off all the water with one of his shirts. He feels cooler now, cleaner. He eventually wraps his arms again to hide the scars, putting a shirt back on before grabbing his cloak off the ground.

“You can come out now!” Mob calls. Verity doesn’t waste a second, rolling out from behind the tree to see Mob putting his cloak back on.

“You put the new bandages on?” Verity asks as Mob puts his gloves back on.

“Yes, Verity. Why wouldn’t I?” Mob says, pulling up the sleeve of his cloak to show him.

“Hm, I dunno, just to be difficult, as you usually are.”

“Wow, that’s a lot of shade you’re throwing, man. Not cool.” Mob says as he picks Verity up. He holds the ball up to his face, staring into his eyes for a second. Verity just smiles at him.

“Where are we going?” Verity asks, and Mob sighs. Verity had asked this question every day since they left the house.

“I don’t know.” Mob repeats the familiar answer. He puts Verity in his pocket, grabbing his bag before continuing to follow the river.

“You should build a new house, Mob! We can start again out here. We are approximately seventy miles away from—“

“Verity, please, stop.” Mob cuts him off, his breath catching in his chest for a second. “I just… want to travel, for now. Okay?” Honestly, Mob couldn’t even begin to think of building a house again, starting a farm and all of that stupid shit again.

“I see. Very well.” Verity was not happy with his answer, Mob could tell. But thankfully Verity drops the subject.

Mob has to tread very lightly with anything he says to Verity. He can’t let him know he’s been heading in the direction to one of the biggest cities there is in this world.

If Verity finds out, he’ll flip, go all monster mode on him— and who knows what would happen after that.

Mob just needs to get close enough to it and make up some stupid reasons why he needs to go into it to convince Verity. This city will be his only chance at getting what he needs to leave this world.

“Verity, can you just spawn anything into existence?” Mob asks as he walks, his mind drifting back to the bandages. How can Verity do that?

“Yes, I can. Do you need something?” Verity chirps back.

“Uh, no. Just curious, but— how is that possible?”

“Worldly limitations mean nothing to me.” Verity says rather ominously. Mob looks down at him with a weird look on his face.

“Right… same here, man. Who needs worldly limitations?” Mob huffs out, getting a small amused chuckle from Verity.

“So, you could pretty much be my personal food vending machine?” Mob says slowly, ideas suddenly forming in his head.

“If that is how you find me useful.” Verity simply says. “I can’t have you going hungry.”

“No, that would be bad.” Mob agrees, nodding his head. “Verity, I want you to cook me up the most delicious steak later for dinner. Oh, then maybe with a side of fries!”

“Steak... and fries?”

“Yes, sounds like a great combination. I’m hungry already.” Mob sighs, but continues on walking as he imagines how good it will be.

“You’re weird, you know?” Verity says, shaking his head.

“Hey, that’s rude!” Mob exclaims, faltering in his step dramatically. “That hurts, Verity. My heart, my poor heart.” He clutches at his chest, putting on his best upset expression.

“How do you even know what’s weird and what isn’t?” Mob questions. “Aren’t you an AI or something?”

“I may be an AI, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been around normal people before.”

“Are you saying I’m not normal?”

His question gives Verity pause.

“Yes.” Verity says. “You are not a normal person, Mob. You’re special.” For some reason, Mob doesn’t think Verity’s words meant anything innocent. No, Verity was basically confessing his obsession for Mob, hiding it behind poorly chosen words, pretending as if he was being sweet.

Mob glosses over it without a second thought.

“Thanks, I guess.” He says, scratching his head. “That was a compliment, right?”

“Of course it was!” Verity responds cheerfully, smiling at Mob.

“You’re funny, sometimes.” Mob hums. “Tell me a joke.”

“Why did the chicken cross the road?”

“That’s the lamest joke ever.” Mob groans. “Tell me something actually funny.”

“What do you call a fish without an eye?” Verity asks. Mob ponders the question for a moment.

“What?” Mob asks, unable to come up with anything.

“Fsh.”

Mob can’t help it, but the way Verity says fsh has him bursting out laughing. It just sounded so odd coming from the yellow murder ball.

“That was super lame.”

“Yet you laughed?”

“Nah, I didn’t laugh. You’re hearing things.”

It was moments like these that made Mob almost forget the monster that he was talking to.

Almost.

Later that night, when he had a fire going and had finished eating he steak, he stood to leave for a second.

“I’ll be right back, Verity.” He calls, not giving the yellow ball a second look as he’s walking away from the light of the fire.

“Where are you going?” Verity’s voice rings out, his chipper tone gone, replaced by something cold and terrifying. “You can’t leave me.”

Mob freezes in his tracks, turning on his feet to look at Verity.

“I got to take a piss man, chill.” He explains, holding his hands up in surrender. “And no, you can’t come with me.”

Verity’s dark expression seems to lift, his cheery smile returning.

“Don’t stay out there for too long, there may be mobs around!” Verity says, before returning to his spot by the fire.

“Yeah, I know. I’ll be fine.” Mob says, goosebumps traveling up his arms at the sudden switch up.

God, Verity was always switching up on him. One moment he was chill, and the next he looked like he wanted to rip his head off.

It was really starting to mess with Mob.

As he was returning back to the stone outcrop where they had made camp for the night, an arrow whizzes past his good ear, the small breeze kissing his cheek.

Instantly Mob reaches for his sword— but his hands come back empty.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He exclaims. “Verity, god damnit. I should have taken my sword!” He curses under his breath, turning on his tail and sprinting back towards the fire.

“Verity! You son of a bitch, this is why I need my sword—“ Mob shouts as he gets closer to the fire. More arrows whizz past, landing on the ground where his heels had just been.

This skeleton was not letting up. Mob had to do something other than run.

Mob stops, turning on his heel and reeling his arm back. Just as the skeleton draws back another arrow Mob smokes it right in the face, shattering its skull and sending it falling to the ground in a clatter of bones.

Mob pants, staring down at the mess of bones in the ground.

“Motherfucker.” He grumbles under his breath, shaking out his fist. That hurt.

Before he had time to react, an iron sword is being swung at him. Mob yelps in panic, narrowly dodging the blade as he scrambles back.

“Oh shit, oh shit—“ he panics as a zombie advances towards him, with a sword.

The skeletons bow was already too far away, now behind the zombie as it chases Mob.

Mob dodges another sloppy swing of the blade, going to kick the zombies feet out from underneath itself. He ends up kicking out one leg, before the sword is swinging down at him.

He bails, rolling out of the way in a flurry of black fabric. The zombie doesn’t miss a beat, lunging at Mob with its sword raised in the air—

Another sword meets the zombies blade. Specifically, Mob’s sword that he had left behind. His savior throws the zombie back, before cutting it clean in half with the diamond blade.

Mob stares agape at the sight in front of him.

A cloaked figure stands on the ground in front of him. The cloak was pitch black, blending into the darkness around them. As the figure turns around, Mob can see a bright yellow mask covering its face.

“Verity?” He asks, watching as the tall figure walks over to him. The diamond sword disappears into a flurry of particles in his gloved hands. “Wait, what—“

Verity smiles at him, teeth and all, leaning down to get closer to Mob. He had a human body— or so Mob thought. His face was completely covered by a mask, which was just a larger version of his yellow ball face.

The rest of his head and neck was hidden by the black cloak, shadows warping around it. He wore a black shirt, similar to Mob’s, with brown pants and black boots. Black gloves covered his hands. No skin was showing.

His outfit was eerily similar to Mob’s.

Did Verity copy him?

“I told you not to stay out for long.” Verity muses, and his voice is wrong— it’s warped, like how it is in his monsters voice.

All Mob can do is blink at him.

“You’re not freaking out. Is this appearance better?” Verity asks, holding out a hand to Mob.

Mob takes it after a moment of hesitation, allowing Verity to help pull him up. Verity seems pleased, straightening up to his full height.

Mob was tall, but Verity was even taller.

“Verity… did you have to make yourself taller than me?” It’s the first thing that comes out of Mobs stupid mouth, but damnit, he can’t tolerate having to look up at this guy!

“I’m not sure what you mean.” Verity says innocently.

“Oh my god, this guy!” Mob throws his hands up, turning around in a circle as he grabs a handful of his dreads, pulling on them. “What is happening right now?”

Mob pauses, taking a closer look at Verity. He basically copied Mob’s outfit, with the dark cloak, black shirt, black gloves and boots. The only difference was that he had brown pants and wore a mask.

Though, his nails were unnaturally long, his body taller than a normal person. He could hardly stand up straight, hunched slightly, like he was uncomfortable.

Verity was still the same monster as before. He was just hiding under this disguise.

“Did you do this for me?” Mob asks, having to tilt his head to look up at Verity’s face. This… wasn’t exactly what Mob had meant when he asked Verity not to become a monster anymore.

He had hoped Verity could be a cute little dog or something.

“I did.” Verity says, reaching out one of his hands towards Mob. Mob can’t help it, he flinches away from the movement, eyes suddenly widening at the action. That doesn’t stop Verity, though, as his hand ghosts over his face.

Mob realizes that his hood and mask had fallen down in the scuffle earlier, leaving his head completely exposed.

“Isn’t this better?” Verity asks, pressing his hand against the side of his face. Mob doesn’t move away, slightly from terror, but mostly from confusion.

What the fuck was happening?

“I don’t want to scare you, Mob.” He hums, leaning in closer towards him. “If that means this, then so be it.”

“You totally copied my style, though. You couldn’t have come up with something more creative?” Mob notes, slinking out of Verity’s hold. Verity lets him go, straightening back up, an amused look on his face.

“I figured it would be most familiar to you!”

“Right… black, on black. Real familiar.” Mob gives him an up-down look. “You could have just said you like my style, Verity. I’m very fashionable.” Mob shrugs, crossing his arms.

“I think your style is rather basic.” Verity muses. “So plain. Simple.”

A shocked look crosses Mobs face.

“Why would you say that? You’re supposed to agree with me, man! Aren’t you my personal helper friend, or something like that?”

“I may be your assistant, but that doesn’t mean I’ll lie to make you feel better.”

“Okay, well, that’s just rude.” Mob grumbles, ignoring the rather pleased look on Verity’s face. He pulls his hood back up, though, before looking back at the fire.

“Did you get hurt, Mob?” Verity asks, suddenly serious, the joking mood from before dwindling into embers.

“Uh, no.” Mob responds, glancing back at the zombie body on the ground. “Just a little roughed up, otherwise I’m fine.” He rubs his elbow, he definitely hit it against a stone or something during the fight.

“Can I have my sword back, though?” He asks, turning to Verity.

“No.” Verity smiles at him.

“Why not? I literally saw you just use it!”

“It’s for your own good.” Verity responds curtly. His words hit Mob harder than he expected. He takes a stumbling step backwards, his ear suddenly ringing.

Verity did not trust him with any weapons.

Mob takes a sharp breath in, remembering the way Verity crushed the gun in one of his hands like it was nothing. His insistence on Mob not having weapons made complete and total sense now.

Oh fuck.

“But— but what if I need to protect myself?” It was a weak argument, it feels pointless to even speak it aloud. He already knows what Verity will say.

“Oh Mob.” Verity smiles, really smiles, taking a step towards him. He plants both his hands on Mobs shoulders, his long nails lightly digging into his skin through his cloak. Mob flinches at the touch, his body frozen in place.

“I will protect you.” Verity promises. “We need to work on you avoiding dangerous situations, though! You always seem to find them.” Verity says, titling his head slightly. His words are a silent threat, that if Mob doesn’t start being more careful he will loose more privileges other than not being able to have weapons.

Without warning Verity pulls Mob into a hug, fully embracing the enderman hybrid.

“What— what are you doing?!” Mob exclaims, feeling trapped in his hold. A monster was fucking hugging him!

“Hugs are supposed to be relaxing.” Verity responds. “Is it working?”

“What? No! Get off me—“ Mob pushes Verity away, allowing him to gain some distance between the two of them. Mob imagines he looks like a startled cat right now, with his hackles raised and back arched.

“I’m sorry, Mob. I am not well versed with how people work. From what I’ve gathered, you don’t like touch.” Verity doesn’t ask, he states it.

Mob just stares the stupid, know-it-all, fashion stealing son of a bitch in front of him.

“Enough of this, Verity.” Mob was getting upset, a little angry. He was more mad that Verity could read him so god damn easy and call him out on it.

“Is there a reason why?” Verity continues to press, clearly not reading the room at all. “You need interactions with others. Now that I have this, you won’t need anyone else!”

Mob’s arms begin to sting, old memories rushing in. Bad memories. Memories he wants to forget.

“Stop, Verity.” Mob warns, feeling a feral kind of anger curl up in his chest. His claws dig into his palms, in a futile attempt at keeping himself calm and grounded.

“We’re in this together, Mob. You don’t have to keep this to yourself—“

“Stop!” Mob shouts, his hands covering his ears, claws digging into his hair and scalp. His eyes are squeezed shut, as he falls to his knees, repeating nononono under his breath.

He was not ready to face the past. He would never be ready. And he was most definitely not telling Verity anything about it.

“Mob?” Verity’s voice cuts through his panic. The monster was leaning over him, not touching him, a mask of concern on his face.

Mob scrambles away from Verity, kicking up dirt and rocks as he does. He almost falls but he catches himself, getting to his feet and turning towards the fire. A chill suddenly makes him shiver, goosebumps crawling up his arms and legs.

“Leave me alone.” Mob manages to say, in a rather dull tone, trying his best to tame his anger and fear.

“I can’t do that.”

“Then shut up!” Mob bites back, turning to look at Verity. His chest was heaving, his eyes a little watery, his defenses on high alert.

Verity… looks a little hurt, you could say. If the monster could feel hurt, that is. For being an AI he sure has a lot of emotions.

Mob immediately feels a little bad for snapping at him. His anger simmers out as if it was doused with water, leaving him a shaky, empty mess.

He curls in on himself, looking down at the ground.

“I’m— I’m sorry, Verity. I think I just need some space.” Mob says, not waiting for a response as he turns back towards the fire. Verity says nothing, which is somehow worse than if he did respond back.

Mob feels so stupid.

Verity was the only person he had right now. The only one listening to Mob. The only one looking after him and making sure he was okay.

Mob… selfishly, wasn’t ready to open up. He just couldn’t. No matter how much it ate away at him, he can’t bring himself to speak about it.

Verity knew something was up. He was just trying to help, and Mob, stupidly, was pushing him away. He doesn’t know how to remedy the situation. He doesn’t know if Verity is even upset about it.

Mob settles down by the fire, his eyes staring at the flames as they flicker and dance in the darkness.

Verity joins him, in his yellow ball form. He just stares at Mob, not even trying to hide the fact that he’s watching. Mob shivers, brining his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them before setting his gaze in the fire.

It was going to be a long, tense night.