àȘââŽâ âĄàšà§ The Obsessed x Readeràšà§ ⥠àȘââŽâ
(The First Ask: Cuddles Edition, Pt. I)
(Ask here! Pt.II Hi and hello everyone!! Hereâs our first ever fic post on this account, weâre both elated and excited to start something new for a certain arachnid man lol, considering this ask posed two differing things I thought itâd be smart to split them into a duo so I can give both their own attention! I hope to churn out the second soon!)
It was supposed to be a normal night, well, his version of normal as late as he was doing what heâs been doing for several nights in a row already- Rather than do what he usually did.. Hunt for food, feast upon what he can, indulge in those violent urges his sister species, spiders, are known for.. But now he finds himself waiting till theyâre all nice and asleep, slink in through an entrance the reader doesnât seem to know exists (whether it be a building flaw from the world generating or a little happy accident on the readers part, weâll put it up for interpretation), be as quiet as possible as he finds his placeâ Standing over them, ignoring the feeling of hunger, the emptiness in his gut and the drool finding itself dripping down to the readers carpet, mixing his feelings for the reader and that innate urge for sustenance... Little does he know, this night is different, whether it be due to him maybe standing a bit closer than usual by accident, or a new sleeping habit-
He doesnât really get to think about it before heâs pulled in, something that didnât even cross his mind the slightest, impossible even. But it happens, one second heâs looming over the unconscious form of the object of his current affections, silently admiring every little unique feature of theirs with tunnel vision, rose-tinted glasses pinned onto them and them alone every chance he could get. Every shallow breath and incoherent mumble just another thing he locks into his head, studying them like a priceless piece of art youâre never meant to touch lest you ruin it⊠Even if you really wanted to. The next heâs grabbed with an unreal amount of strength from the sleeping human and cuddled like a beloved stuffed animal. The mere thought of touching them was enough to make his head dizzy usually, and I think a part of him was hesitant toâŠ
For obvious reasons, but the choice is almost immediately chosen for him in that very momentâ So many sensations, emotions, thoughts, it was all so overwhelming for him- Their warm breath brushing against his inhuman form, arms wrapped around him as well as they could considering his glaringly obvious size difference between the duo, the familiar smell of them he has become well accustomed to is filling him with all the fuzziness in the world. The beating of their heart was almost addicting, one of his hands finding itself on their chest, its slow unassuming beats vibrating against his palm, the drooling finds itself against their sheets-- The life in front of him was enough to make that primal part of his brain buzz in the back of his head- Ignored.
Every little thing about this whole event makes his yearning little heart run a mile a minute, hesitantly going and placing nervous hands on them, their warmth feeling alien underneath large clumsy clawed hands, the up and down motions of their chest as they breathed were enough to make him breathless. It only increased his rather unorthodox fondness for them tenfold, never wanting this moment to endâ He needed it to never end, the feeling of being held onto like something cherished, all those years of seeing villagers displaying a familiar motion of closeness always made him both curious and jealous, curious as to how it feels, and jealous at the underlying fact that he may never feel it for himself, not when he is what he is⊠But now? He experienced it for himself, he actually experienced it for himself, feeling as though heâs experienced paradise for the first time. The hours tick by but he doesnât sleep, way too exhilarated to even parse the concept of rest before he has to pull away, pry their unusually strong hands off of him lest he frightens themâŠ
The last thing heâd ever want to do to his beloved, though the signs of his presence are there if you look hard enough... An unexplainable wet patch on the carpet, on the sheets too, a messed-up pillow with strands of what seemed to be fur if the reader was to look deeper into everything. Heâs left hollow afterwards, every hour, minute, and second that tick by is a barrier between him and that special moment, hoping heâll be able to feel their arms around him once more, hoping it wasnât a one-time thing⊠Oh, to yearn.. To be obsessed.
Yan! Wttg 1-2/Dead Signal/Scrutinized x fem!reader
Where you wake up on December 6thâthe day of your birthdayâin a life that isnât yours, you quickly realize that youâre trapped inside a game you used to play as a teenager, or rather, several games. You have no idea how all the characters from various Reflect Studios games are here with you. After learning that each time they kill you, you wake up again on December 6th, they donât seem to remember, but you do. Surviving should be achievable if they keep forgetting, shouldnât it?
"What's one more mod going to do? Destroy me?" part 1
Lenny, August, The Knocker, Verity x gn!reader
Synopsis: Tired of always being tormented by The Knocker, August, and Lenny's deteriorating mood, you installed a new mod called Verity, hoping it would help you. Instead, you got another obsessed creature. Well, at least he helps fight off August and Knocker.
Tags: Obsession, The Knocker being an asshole, abductions, Lenny is sweet but also lowkey dumb, protective Verity, reader can't die in here, Verity is sweet but possessive, reader is basically inside of Minecraft, uses of [name], injuries, violence
Notes: Instead of this being one whole story, I've separated it into 2-3 parts! This is so I don't get burnt out trying to write one massive fic
A sigh of frustration left you as you respawned on your bed, eye twitching in annoyance. August had ambushed you when you least expected, and slit your neck, killing you instantly. Well, at least you had keep inventory on. After dying so many times within the first 3 days, you had turned it on.
While you could have easily uninstalled the three, a part of you had grown attached to them. You were never alone, and you certainly couldn't get rid of Lenny - even though he was rather⊠well, weird, but oddly sentimental.
Knocker, well, he was an asshole, but something about him caught your eye, just like August had, just like Lenny. All three of them captivated you. But you were at your limit with their shenanigans, you needed someone to help - someone to bring balance to this headache you created.
So, you installed a new mod called "Verity", a helper that could assist you with day to day things and keep you company. Maybe that would help with your situation, right?
Closing the UI for the menu, you watched as not even 5 seconds later, a box spawned at your feet. You blinked in surprise, eyes widening a little. You were expecting the AI to spawn immediately, not for a box to come.
"Hello? Anyone there?" A voice sounded from the box. "Can someone let me out? Helloooo?" You tilted your head, and slowly, you crouched down, pressing your hand against the box. The moment you touched it, the box suddenly lifted into the air.
"What theâŠ" You muttered, eyes locked on as the top opened up before it imploded in a puff of smoke, and what looked like a yellow ball falling from the puff. You reacted quickly, catching the ball in both hands before he could hit the ground.
He looked up at you with wide eyes, clearly not expecting you to have caught him - no one ever did. It feltâŠnice, not to have fallen on the ground for once.
"Hello, I'm Verity! Your personal helper friend! Ask me anything, I know everything!" Verity greeted with a warm, welcoming smile, his black eyes gleaming with interest as he took you in.
Your world was certainly different - he could feel different entities in here, watching him with either interest or jealousy. If he had his human form, he'd puff his chest in pride.
"Hello, Verity," you greeted with a warm smile of your own. "You're definitely going to be a great deal of help in this world." Slowly, you stood back up to your full height, looking down at his cute form.
"Since you know everything⊠where's the best place to farm bones and bone meal?" You asked him with a tilt of your head. Subconsciously, Verity followed suit. Bone meal? Usually players would immediately ask for diamonds, or even where netherite was. Yet instead, you wanted bones.
"There's an excellent location to build a skeleton farm just 400 blocks away from here! Coordinates are 400, 89, and-" He could not even finish his sentence when your hands suddenly disappeared, nothing to catch him as he landed on the soft grass.
He bounced once, then twice with a grunt, a frown forming on his lips. What on Earth made you do that? Just as he opened his mouth to talk, he heard you yell. Not in fear or anger, but pure annoyance.
"Lenny! Put me down, you spider!" You yelled, tossed over the shoulder of a tall, lean figure, spider fuzz all over it's body. His eight eyes glared at Verity, mandibles twitching in pure, unrelenting jealousy.
"Mhineee," he hissed, and turned on his heel to disappear. A massive cloud of black smoke erupted from where he stood. "Wait!" Verity yelled, eyebrows furrowing. He could feel his anger boiling - damn it, it looked like he had competitionâŠ
Verity contemplated on locating you and taking you from that creature, Lenny, as you called him, angry you were already taken away from him. He was just about to teleport himself over to wherever he took you when you appeared right in front of him.
You brushed the dirt and soot off your clothes, eyebrows furrowed. "Ugh, sorry, Verity," you apologized. "I didn't expect Lenny to get so angry that quickly." You gently picked him up from the ground, brushing the grass off of his form.
"It's alright, no harm done!" He reassured you, but internally he was seething. "I'm assuming he's the one the bone meal is for?" He asked as you began to walk through the grassy plains.
You gave a nod of your head, a sigh leaving your lips. "Yeah, I keep running out of poppies to give him⊠I'm trying to keep his mood up, but it's like every hour it drops back to the negatives." With your free hand, you pinched the bridge of your nose. "And I can't keep having him breaking my doors down when he's angry..."
Verity furrowed his eyebrows at this. You were certainly in an interesting situation, one he never thought he'd encounter. Not only did you have more than 1 horror mod installed, you potentially had 2 obsessed beings. He knew he was obsessed with players, his handlers, but knowing he potentially had competition? It stirred his emotions up.
"Well, in that case, I'll do my best to help you!" He spoke enthusiastically, pleased to know that despite these mods recking havoc, you'd need him. Knowing that he was needed made him smile a little wider.
After a few more minutes of walking, you stopped in your tracks. Your house still seemed intact - the planks weren't burn, the logs were not disturbed, no cobwebs, and no hooded figure lurking around. It was almost as if Knocker decided not to mess with you. But you knew him all too well.
You pulled your sword from your inventory and made your way towards the door, angling the sword to attack anyone who tried to ambush you. Verity watched with curiosity, eyebrows furrowing just slightly with fascination. It seemed you already were accustomed to ambushes, that's good to know.
Slowly pushing the door open, you looked around for any signs of him, any signs of them, but you found nothing. Everything was spotless. "Huh... Guess they decided not to mess with me today," you commented aloud, making your way towards the chest by the furnaces.
You placed Verity down on top of one and put your sword back into its slot. "They always ambush you?" He asked, tilting his little body just a little like a curious puppy. You gave a nod of your head, crouching down to open up your chest. "Yeah, especially Knocker... He always likes ambushing me when I least expect it."
You pushed open the lip of the chest, and froze, eyebrows furrowing in frustration. Your stack of bread, it was already gone. You made that this morning! "Ugh! Knocker! You stupid fat ass, I just made that stack of bread!" You yelled out to the air, yanking your sword out once again.
Just like clockwork, you turned around and swung your sword, watching as the diamond blade came in contact with an axe. The Knocker stood before you, his signature smile plastered on his face, black ooze dripping from his lips. "Looks like someone finally learned how to predict my attacks," he taunted in a singsong tone.
You gritted your teeth in frustration, pulling your sword back and brandishing it threateningly. "I am not in the mood for your damn games, just go away!" You demanded. He seemed to not listen, when does he ever really, and turned his gaze behind you, staring right at Verity.
His eyes turned black, his smile widening even more as he tilted his head. "What's this? Another mod?" He rasped, taking a step forward. Verity furrowed his brows, his eyes darkening. He was about to shift into his humanoid form when you stepped in front of him, pointing the blade directly at Knocker's chest. "Stay away from him." You growled.
Your tone made him stop in his tracks, staring at you with unreadable eyes. You've never spoken to him like that before, never had gotten so protective of something. It made the corner of his lip twitch in irritation. "Oh?" He rasped, droplets of blood slowly mixing with the black ooze. You felt a shiver roll down your spine. Shit, you pissed him off.
"What makes that thing so special, huh?" The Knocker stepped closer, and closer, his gloves tightening around the handle of his axe, the leather creaking. "It's just another mod - surely it can handle a hit or two." His eyes were crazed with jealousy, with madness, with nothing but the urge to kill.
"[name]", Verity began, sensing the tension in the air. He could see your arm trembling, clearly startled by what was happening. "I can handle myself; you don't need to put yourself in harm's way," he tried to reason with you. But your attention was solely on the one standing in front of you.
"Knocker, last warning - get out," You demanded, a bead of sweat rolling down your temple. You were ready to defend Verity, even if it meant getting hurt. You didn't want him to die within the first day of being in this world.
In a blink of an eye, The Knocker lunged towards you, axe raised up above his head. You brought your sword up, blocking the blade with your own, but you were a fraction too late. Your blade only deflected it, causing his blade to slide from yours, and slash down right across your chest.
You cried out in pain, the burning sensation spreading from the wound outwards. He kicked you back, watching as you crashed against the chest. You gripped your chest, blood spreading across your shirt and staining the fabric, droplets hitting the ground beneath you. You gasped out in pain, already at half a heart. Shit, when did he get so strong!?
Just as he raised the axe above his head, a puff of smoke exploded beside you, and a hand grasped the Knocker's wrist, stopping him in his tracks. Verity stood between you and the Knocker, now in his humanoid form. He was taller than the Knocker, nearly the same height as August. He was built toned, strong in every sense of the word, his gloved hand tightening around his wrist.
"Do not hurt them again," Verity growled, his eyes darkened, white pupils visible. He was mad, no, furious. You got hurt protecting him, and no one has ever done that. No one has ever tried protecting him from anything, except you. You put yourself in harms way, got hurt and nearly killed to ensure he wouldn't get so much of a scratch.
His obsession and fascination with you flared even higher.
The Knocker gritted his teeth, lips curling into an amused, cruel smirk. He raised his free hand in mock surrender, taking one single step back. "So, you're not helpless after all, huh?" He asked in a cocky tone, head tilting to the side. Verity only continued to glare down at him, slowly releasing his grip on the axe.
The Knocker took another step back, the crazed look still in his eye. "Don't think you can keep them for long," he rasped, his eyes showing no fear. "You won't be able to protect them all the time; I will get them." His threat echoed through the empty kitchen, but it rang deep in Verity's mind. His eyes darkened further, and he moved quickly, fist bawled up, he raised it and threw a punch towards the psychotic man. His fist never connected, for the being disappeared in a puff of black smoke.
Glaring at where he once stood, Verity quickly turned his attention back to you, his gaze softening. "Are you okay?" He asked, turning on his heel to walk back towards you. He knelt down before you, reaching a hand to move your own out of the way. You winced in pain, gazing up at him with eyes filled with fascination. "I... didn't know you could turn human," you muttered.
His eyes met yours, and his lips curled into the softest of smiles. "It's not a form I always want to use, but I couldn't just watch as you protected me," he spoke softly, and slowly, his gaze moved back down towards your wound. "I have to dress your wound; can you stand and walk on your own?" He asked softly.
You gave a firm nod of your head and raised your hand up to grasp the chest behind you. Using it as leverage, you attempted to push yourself off the floor, trying desperately to ignore the pain that flared with every micromovement you made. But just as you almost rose up, the pain reached a new peak.
You cried out, your arm slipping from the surface of the chest, but you never fell back to the floor. Verity was able to wrap his arm around your waist, pulling you into his chest. He ignored the blood staining his own yellow shirt, instead focusing on helping you get up.
"Hold onto me," he ordered. You wrapped your arm around his shoulder, the other holding onto the arm around your waist. Slowly, he rose up to his height, making sure to keep a firm arm around you. You hissed in pain, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes, eyebrows furrowed tightly. It burned, pulsating with your own heartbeat.
Once fully stood, Verity wordlessly picked you up in his arms, adjusting his arms so that you were comfortable. You were in too much pain to protest, instead leaning into him. He quickly began to walk towards your bedroom, not needing directions. He knew everything about you - how you built your house, where you stored everything, which room had what.
He glanced down at you as he neared the room, looking at your pained expression. He would make the Knocker pay for hurting you, would make him pay for stealing your bread, your food. A cruel smile etched onto his lips. He would protect you from all three of them, regardless of if the other two were friendly or not.
You were his, and he would not let what he owned get hurt like this again.
đ Ï đđđđà±żàȘĄàȘĄ đŁđđà±żàȘĄ: I feel like a tiny ant being crushed.
The rain over the city didnt wash anything clean; it just turned the grime into a slick, reflective oil that caught the glare of the neon signs. You kept your hands shoved deep into your coat pockets, your collar turned up against the damp chill that seemed to settle straight into your bones.
You knew exactly which alley to turn down, and you knew exactly which heavy metal door led into the dive bar that smelled permanently of stale beer, bleach, and old tobacco. It was the only place left where the bartender didnt ask questions and the patrons were too far gone to care about a man slowly killing himself in the corner booth.
When the door swung open, the wall of warm, sour air hit you instantly. You didnt have to look hard to find him.
Leon was slumped against the peeling vinyl of the back booth, his broad shoulders hunched forward as if he were trying to fold himself into a smaller, less noticeable shape. His jacket was half-unzipped, the leather scuffed and dull. In front of him sat a glass of amber liquid, completely untouched, while three empty bottles of cheap bourbon crowded the sticky edge of the table. His head was propped up by a trembling hand, his fingers buried in the messy, overgrown strands of his dirty blonde hair.
He looked smaller like this. Stripped of the tactical gear, the government briefing rooms, and the cold, unshakeable professionalism he wore like armor during the day, he was just a heap of broken bones and ruined memories.
You didnt say a word as you approached. You didnt sigh, and you didnt shake your head. You had done this too many times over the past year to feel anything close to surprise. Reaching down, you grabbed his upper arm, your fingers digging into the dense muscle beneath the leather.
"Leon," you said, your voice flat against the low hum of the bars refrigerator. "Up. Were leaving."
He groaned, a low, guttural sound that vibrated against the table. When he tried to lift his head, his neck seemed incapable of supporting the weight. His bangs fell in damp, tangled clumps across his face, obscuring his eyes, but you could see the dark, purplish bruises of exhaustion carved deep into the skin beneath them.
"Not done," he mumbled, his voice thick and slurred, the words running together into a messy smear. "Just... give me another minute."
"The bar is closed, Leon. Lets go."
It took three tries to get his dead weight out of the booth. Leon was over six feet of dense muscle and bone, made heavier by the absolute lack of cooperation from his central nervous system. He stumbled forward, his combat boots catching on the leg of the table, and for a terrifying second, you thought both of you were going down. You caught his weight against your shoulder, the sharp, sour stench of cheap bourbon and stale sweat hitting your nose so hard it made your eyes water.
"I got you," you muttered between your teeth, shifting your grip to lock your fingers through his belt loop to keep him upright. "Just walk, Leon. Left foot, right foot."
He let out a wet, breathless laugh that sounded more like a cough. "Left... right... like a good little soldier. Right, sir? Yes, sir."
The walk back to his apartment was an exercise in slow-motion torture. The humidity made the air feel like wet wool, and within two blocks, your shirt was clinging to your back from the exertion of keeping him vertical. Leon wasnt walking so much as he was falling forward, relying on your grip to redirect his momentum before his face hit the concrete. His head bobbed against your neck, his hot, alcohol-laced breath puffing against your skin in irregular, ragged gasps.
"Why do you... why do you do this?" he muttered, his feet dragging along the sidewalk. "Shouldve left me in the mud. Everyone else... they stayed there."
"Shut up and walk," you said. Your shoulder was already throbbing from the strain, and the silence of the empty streets only amplified the heavy, rhythmic scraping of his boots.
Every block felt like a mile. You passed the dark windows of closed storefronts, your twin reflections warped and pathetic in the glass. You looked like a caretaker hauling a corpse, his long legs twitching occasionally as he tried to find his footing. He didnt look like the hero of Raccoon City, or the man who had pulled the president's daughter out of a cult's compound. He looked broken, a shell that had been hollowed out by gunpowder and grief until there was nothing left but the rot.
By the time you reached the iron gate of his apartment building, your arms were trembling from exhaustion. You fumbled in his jacket pocket for the keys, your fingers slipping on the cold metal until you managed to hook the ring. Leon leaned heavily against the brick pillars of the entryway, his forehead pressed against the rough mortar, his eyes closed.
"Dont go inside," he whispered. The sudden clarity in his tone was sharper than his previous slurs, a jagged edge cutting through the fog. "Dont want to go in there."
"We're going inside, Leon. Its pouring, and Im not spending the night on the stoop," you said, shoving the key into the deadbolt and twisting it until the lock gave way with a heavy click.
The air inside the apartment was worse than the street outside. It was stagnant, smelling of old takeout, damp laundry, and the pervasive, metallic tang of gun oil. Leon didnt bother to turn on the lights; he knew the layout of his wreckage by heart. He stumbled toward the living room, his knee catching the edge of the coffee table and sending a cluster of empty green bottles clattering across the hardwood floor.
"Damn it," you hissed, closing the front door with your heel. "Stay still. Dont move until I get a light on."
"No!" Leon shouted suddenly, the volume of his voice cracking through the dark apartment like a pistol shot. He lunged backward, away from the kitchen switch you were reaching for. "No lights! Keep them off!"
You froze, your hand hovering an inch from the plastic switch. In the dim light filtering through the grime-streaked window from the streetlamp outside, you could see him standing near the couch. His chest was heaving, his shoulders hunched as if he were anticipating a blow. His hands were clenched into tight, trembling fists at his sides.
"Leon, its just me," you said softly, trying to lower the temperature in the room. "Its just the apartment. Youre safe."
"Safe?" He let out a harsh, mocking bark of laughter that degenerated into a wet wheeze. He took a step toward you, his boots crunching on a stray piece of glass from some previous bender. "Safe where? In this box? With the ghosts? They dont care about the locks on the door. Theyre already inside."
"Youre drunk," you said, your voice hardening again as the familiar wall of frustration rose within you. "You need to lie down and sleep it off. I'll leave a bucket by the couch."
You led him toward the couch, intending to drop him onto the cushions and leave him to sleep it off, but Leon had other ideas.Â
As soon as his knees touched the edge of the mattress, his balance gave out entirely. But instead of falling back onto the cushions, he pitched forward, dragging you down with him. You managed to wrench your shoulder free to avoid being crushed under his weight, landing hard on your knees on the worn hardwood floor beside him.
Leon didnt get up. He rolled onto his back, his heavy boots thudding against the floorboards, his chest heaving as if he had just run a marathon. The damp leather of his jacket groaned as he shifted, his arms spreading out wide, palms up, completely defenseless.
"Leave it," he whispered to the ceiling. His eyes were wide open now, staring blankly at the dark plaster above him. They were glassy, completely vacant of the sharp intelligence that usually defined him. "Just leave me here."
A sudden tremor started in his jaw. It was small at first, just a nervous twitch, but within seconds, it spread across his face, contorting his features into a mask of pure, unadulterated agony. His throat hitched, a sharp, clicking sound that cut through the silence of the room.
"I cant do it anymore," he breathed. The words came out thin, fragile, like glass shattering under a boot. "I cant keep doing this."
Leon turned his head toward you, his eyes desperate, searching your face for something, anything, a horrific, strangled sob tore its way out of his chest, so violent that his entire body convulsed. He curled into a fetal position right there on the dirty floor, his hands flying to his face, his fingers clawing at his skin as if he wanted to rip it off. The tears spilled over his fingers, mixing with the rain on his cheeks, glistening in the faint green light of the kitchen clock.
"Leon, stop," you said, taking a cautious step forward, your hands raised slightly. "Raccoon City was years ago. Its gone."
"Its not gone!" he screamed, his voice breaking as he slammed his fist into the wall. The drywall cracked under the impact, a small puff of white dust settling over his bloody knuckles. "Its right here! Its in the water! Its in the air! I can feel them... I can feel the weight of them on my chest every single night!"
He dropped to his knees, his legs simply giving out beneath him. He didnt look at you; his eyes were fixed on the floor, tracing the patterns of dust and light as if looking for an escape hatch. The rage seemed to drain out of him as quickly as it had arrived, leaving behind a hollowed-out cavern of a man who looked smaller than he ever had.
"Marvin," Leon whispered, his voice suddenly small, like a child lost in a crowd. "He gave me his belt. He told me to save myself. But I didnt save anyone. I just ran. I just kept running while they all burned."
"You did what you had to do," you said, staying back. You had learned the hard way that touching him when he was in this state was dangerous; his muscle memory was trained for killing, and his brain couldnt always distinguish between a friend and a threat when the nightmares took over.
"I didnt do anything!" he sobbed, the sound tearing from his throat with a violent, wrenching force. He pressed his face into his hands, his broad shoulders shaking so violently that his leather jacket squeaked in the dark. "They made me a hero for surviving a graveyard. Do you know what that feels like? Every medal they pin on my chest feels like another nail in their coffins."
"Raccoon City," he wailed, the name coming out as a mangled, bloody thing. "Every single one of them. The people in the streets. The cops I was supposed to work with. They died because I wasnt fast enough! useless- useless- USELESS!!!â
He gasped for air, his lungs hitching violently as he tried to swallow down the bile and the grief, but it was too big. The rot had been festering inside him for over a decade, and the alcohol had finally dissolved the seals.
"And then Spain," he sobbed, his voice rising to a ragged, desperate pitch that echoed off the bare walls of the apartment. "The village. The things they did to them. The sounds they made. I can still hear them. Every time I close my eyes, I hear the chainsaws. I hear the screaming. I see her face. I see all of their faces. Its all my fault!"
He dragged his hands down his face, leaving red tracks against his pale, sweaty skin. He looked up at you, his eyes completely bloodshot, swimming in tears, completely stripped of any pride.
"Im a ghost," he whispered, a broken, trembling mess of a man. "I died there. I died in that city, and they just keep patching up the corpse and sending it back out to fight. I dont want to fight anymore. Please. I dont want to see any more blood. I dont want to remember."
He reached out a trembling hand toward you, his fingers hovering in the air between you, twitching, begging for a touch, for a lie, for any kind of comfort that would tell him the world wasnt as dark as it was.
"Help me," he wept, his voice cracking entirely on the words. "Please. Just make it stop. Why wont it stop?"
You looked down at his hand. You looked at the calluses on his knuckles, the scars from knives and teeth that lined his wrists. He was weeping like a abandoned child on a filthy apartment floor. His hand dropped heavily back to the floor, his fingers curling into the dust. He let his head fall back against the wood, his eyes closing as the sob took him over completely, his chest violently rising and falling as he wept into the dark, empty room.
(yes i know lenny doesn't smell like anything in canon, it's for plot development. male prns for lenny, kinda ooc as a morale boost, somewhat established relationship, terrain description matches my current world with lenny (biomes o'plenty), mention of obsessive tendencies, we out here training him... or is he training us? also this is my first proper fanfiction so plsnobully)
while you're more than fine with your stalker, friend, thing... coming around for food, and as surprisingly gentle and devoted as he is (well, gentle for a couple meter tall arachnid), you can't help but shrivel your nose a little at the intersection of mildew and wet dog emanating from his looming form. it sticks to your clothes, your walls, even the trees in the nearby forest whenever you leave your house to gather wood. between the furballs and gunk left as gifts strewn about your house's perimeter and his aura of straight up funk, this creature desperately needs a deep clean and then some.
you sit down in a nearby field with a cooked porkchop in hand, close your eyes and wait for lenny in hopes he'll notice your offering. an hour or so passes before you hear chittering in the distance and open your eyes ever so slightly to see him scampering about before slowly making his way to you. you extend your offhand, loosely closed, to the head of your large, fuzzy stalker and slowly caress the side of his head. he stays perfectly still for a few minutes and lets you move your touches to the top of his head before ducking the hand petting him, snatching the porkchop out of your other hand with his maw and sprinting off.
ăăăăăă+1 mood for the obsessor.
as daylight dwindles into darkness and you're getting ready to tuck in for the night, your focus is broken by the sound of tapping on the outside of your house; first slower and rhythmic, then quickly losing tempo â almost like whatever's doing this is growing impatient. you grab your sword, open your door and sneak onto the grassy shore to see lenny, legs unfurled from his back, rapping his long claws along the exterior of your house. he soon notices your watchful eye and escapes into fields yonder, leaving you crouched and confused. getting up and making your way to the side of the house where lenny was poised, you see a torn piece of paper with a charcoal doodle of what looks to be the two of you together. how sweet, your infatuated arachnid friend left you a drawing. a labor of love perhaps? you gently remove the artwork from the side of your house and put it in a chest inside with the rest of lenny's gifts.
you wake up just as day breaks. crawling out of bed, donning your typical clothing and grabbing any tools and food you may need, you head back out into the environs with renewed resolve. this time, your animal offering is a large steak and again you situate yourself in the field albeit closer to the water, eyes mostly closed and awaiting your skittish stalker's arrival. lenny eventually makes himself known and â completely unexpectedly â nuzzles his cheek into your empty palm, all abuzz with happy little chitters. this leaves you startled for a few seconds, but you slowly move your hand to reciprocate the friendly gesture, lightly chuckling to yourself.
ăăăăăă+1 mood for the obsessor.
he skitters off, dropping a clump of fur and reminding you of your goal.
the cycle continues. grassy field, meat in one hand and affection in the other, watching through heavy eyelashes for the arachnid who's taken up so much space in your mind and then rewarding his increasing tolerance for physical contact with foodstuffs. you soon move to coming out with food less often and solely offering touch, which he takes in all the same.
the day eventually comes where you see lenny running to you in the field and flag him down while slowly moving back toward the beach outside your house. taking gentle steps backwards to avoid tripping over yourself, you eventually lead him into the calm waters of the inlet, shimmering with the sun's amber glow. lenny starts to panick a little but soon calms down when you start working your fingers through his fur, water gaining a dark brown tinge from the sludge that once caked his coat. in an attempt to further comfort your somewhat willing victim you begin narrating your work, sprinkling in a few lighthearted "poor thing"s and "wet beast"s for comedic effect. upon initially hearing the latter phrase, lenny gives you a concerned look and utters...
ăăăăăăă"w-weh beess?"
to which you kindly reply, "no no, lenny, i don't actually think you're a beast! just trying to be a little silly, that's all! let's get you cleaned up and you'll feel right as rain."
once you're done scrubbing the grunge from your lumbering compatriot, you get him out of the water and ask him to wait for you while you duck inside your house to grab a spare shirt to use as a towel. upon your return, you're delighted to see he listened but not so delighted by the deluge of water that hits your face as lenny shakes himself as dry as he can. ruffling his fur in the process of drying him off, you hear what you swear sound like giggles peppered between chitters. despite prior reservations, he really seems to be enjoying the attention.
soon after drying the last of him off, you wring your spare shirt dry, lay it on the grass by the shore and instruct lenny to wait just a bit longer as you enter your house a second time to gather a collection of flowers from a nearby chest. popping back out the door, you're again relieved to see him waiting for you, this time with a look of blended contentment and confusion as his eyes lock onto the flowers in your hand. making your way up to him, you comb through his now dry coat with your fingers and begin weaving wildflowers and fresh plucked lilac bits into his fur. partway through your efforts, you feel lenny's hand firmly gripping your shoulder before gently releasing it to play with the sleeve of your shirt as you continue adorning him with aromatic blooms. once you've finished and have admired your handiwork, you ask him to sit down with you as you pull out a bunch of dandelions, pluck them of their leaves and weave them into a crown before placing it atop lenny's head. both of you stand up and you can barely brush yourself off before he pulls you into a near-suffocating hug and begins rambling incoherently before uncoupling from you and sprinting towards the horizon.
ăăăăyour stalker's happiness is at 5 (fully happy).
lenny has never experienced this much positive attention, especially not for this long. it's absolutely fucking exhilarating; he wishes to capture this moment forever â capture you forever â and if this is the kind of thing you would do for others, he wants it for himself and himself alone. however, he will play the long game and see if this kindness of yours is consistent before dragging you off to his lair under the cover of night.
Delivery! Package from... Authors personal Docs. I plan on playing with len again after 4 months... Given he recently got a huge update!! Yay!!!
CW: Typical Obsessor Behavior. Kidnapping, duh. Reader is rightfully beyond terrified, lenny's got that twisted puppy-love, brief violence (to reader and len), emotional betrayals, guilt, scared out of your mind / can barely understand how to comfort it; forced affection, SLIGHTLY pervy undertones, somewhat abrupt ending (ohhh you wanna request or gossip about him so bad), fluffy ending?
~â
You wake up⊠Somewhere else. It's dark, and that's all you know. The only source of light is the most subtle growth of glow lichenâŠ
It's⊠Surprisingly rather warm. Not unbearably, just⊠A smooth, wetly warm temperature. You rest upon a messy bundle of silk wrapped plants and furs- And were those your sheets? The directly woolen texture... You'd remembered making this.
Your heart is beating so heavy.
You feel sick.
What had happened? Why were you here?
You do your best to think on it, but there is nothing there. Home. Sleep. Darkness.
An unnatural darkness.
What happened then didn't matter. What happens now does. Where you are, who⊠You had a feeling on who.
Your Stalker. Your hunter. Maybe a friendâ It was hard to tell. You'd tried to be friendly with it- With him. This⊠Towering, prickly-haired beast. Imposing and lanky. Small eyes gleaming in the darkness alongside a slit smile.
â ⊠Lenny?â
A heartbreaking sound escapes you. Your voice, so timid, so scared- It wasn't his name. He didn't have a name. It was just something you'd come up with to stop calling him meaner things. But he seemed so ecstatic when you named him.
You weren't sure to stay or flee.
You wanted to run. But where?
Instead, you just shake. Curling up with the bedding of your once-home.
He wasn't here, not entirely present at least. Lurking nearby, somewhere else in the cave. Squinted pearly eyes watch you, your form fully visible in the dark dark cavern. He felt bad leaving you like this⊠Legs twitching, it's hard to stay upright like that. He'd like to press down, let his real legs scuttle about as he lay down and hold you. Nestle deep against your chest, your neckâ Feel your skin and hair against his fur. Grasp you with his needy hands and feel you squirm⊠It would be Aetheric.
The expression barely visible on his face was sick. Pure sick. A lonely, violent type of lovesick. With no ill intent toward you, thankfullyâ Abhorring any moment he had to and long after it occurred. But it didn't mean he felt entirely guilty.
⊠Sometimes, you just hurt him so much âŠ
â He never wanted to hurt you, but hearing you scream and cryâ Feeling your axe press deep into his chest. A sharp squeak of betrayal had escaped him, tears pricking his eyes as he hesitantly pinned you down even harder. Axe still embedded in him, his chelicerae twitch, pedipalps nervously brushing against his face in waning contemplation.
He bit you. Hard. He felt miserable at how you cried out, sensing how equally hurt both physically and mentally it made you. A soft hiss escapes him as he tastes your blood, the desperate side of him enjoying it- Savoring it. He shuddered as he briefly lapped it up, eventually releasing you and skittering away faster than you could clear your tears.
You didn't follow him. You only lied there, sobbing and reeling in agony. It was a short lived poison, vision cloudy and dark as you felt an unbearable urge to throw up- Your body stung, burned. But it didn't even last 15 seconds⊠He hadn't meant to bite that hardâŠ
He watches from a distance, trembling hands against the now open wound on his chest. As upset as he was, he still wanted to make sure you'd get home okay⊠You both just got a little scared. He wasn't mad. HonestâŠ
A prominent white lined frown is on his face. His eyes sad, like a puppy.
You'd found the axe you shoved into him a few days later, still dried with his off colored blood. There wasn't a point in throwing it out- Iron was hard enough to find here⊠â
He's too scared to come up to you. He felt⊠Bad. He had you now, of course, and you'd never be leaving. He didn't want you to leave, to be around others. Farm animals, pets, villagersâ No other mobs. To think anything could hurt you⊠Or that anything else could love you.
He could understand why something would love you. Of course he could. You were the first thing he ever felt this intense about⊠But you⊠Sweet, kind, gentle youâ You'd give in to anything warm enough. You were just so lonely in this world⊠He could never blame you for that.
Itâs all projection.
It's all his own loneliness.
You had built a life.
You had a home. A farm. PetsâŠ
You'd visit the nearby village often, gotten to know the inhabitants, were practically part of their communityâ
He was the only one alone.
His feet shuffle against the stone, legs on his back clicking around as he tries to fight through any doubts. You wouldn't⊠Be that scared, would you? He knew this might be scary⊠But it was just him. You called out for him, didn't you? Not âhelpâ, not screaming. Just⊠Lenny. Like he was the only thing in your life. And you were terrified of losing him.
A shameful few chirps escape him as he scuttles slowly from his hiding spot, just barely being heard from you as you perk up. Your eyes scan across the dark pit of the room, seeing only a few dots of illumination from glow lichen and some white eyesâ Eyes?
Your stomach drops, heart skipping a beat as you whimper and sit up, scooting away and tangling slightly against the webs and fur. He slinks back briefly, now just standing still to watch. He looks⊠Sad. You blink away tears, taking your time to calm down a bit.
â ⊠Lenny? Is that you?â You whisper, voice quivering.
He doesn't answer. He never really did.
But you knew those eyes. You'd seen that white lined mouth before- And every time, seeing it frown made you nervous. You let the nesting you clung to drop, slowly crawling a bit forward on your hands. Your mouth opens to speak, falling mute for a moment.
âLennyâŠ?â
You can see the flicker of limbs behind him through some of the light of the lichen, his legs twitching. Was he angry? Was he just being shy?
⊠You really needed to know.
âPlease don't do this.â You finally whimper out, hands balling up weakly against the bedding before you sit back, curling them up against you for comfort. âYou're- You're really scaring meâŠ!â
You blink and it burns, his hands tense as a helpless squeak sounds from him. Raw guilt. He can see in your face just how scared you are.
âIf I close my eyes, will you come closerâŠ?â You speak, trying to steady your voice. âAre you just nervous?â
Your mouth is dry, so you take a few moments to just breathe. As if just thinking about it would make you produce more saliva.
âI'm not madâŠâ You whisper, eyes eventually closing alongside a gentle flinch of worry.
It doesn't take long before his shaking form approaches, a shift in the air telling you so. He always had a way of making things around him feel⊠Fuzzy. And not in a good way.
Your expression only turns more fearful, and eventually you block your face off with your hands, shielding your visage from his.
When his claws meet your wrists, you nearly break. A sharp cry escapes you as you try to tear yourself away, unable to as he merely peels your arms apart with a desperate nuzzle into your chest. He presses you back, shuddering and drooling as he buries his soft face into your neck. Your heart is so loud now, he can feel it against his own body. Thump thump thumping all because of him.
âL-Lenny, stop-! Please don't- Don't killââ
You're crying so hard, a squirming mess. Though as teeth don't find your throat⊠You start to calm back downâ Still in slight hystericsâ Yet you no longer thrash. Merely lay under him. As your muscles relax and you absentmindedly go limp, he too paces himself.
Arachnid legs stop twitching, instead softly curling just enough to hold you closer. His fingers and thumbs clasp beyond gentle against you; A stiff motion to soothe you as best he knows.
Hesitantly, you nuzzle against him. Your cheek rubs against his face, feeling his pedipalps freeze up before twitching. You lean into his shoulder, breathing deep and quick to his vile hair. After carrying around his first gift for so long, you'd gotten used to the smell.
How Aetheric it was to have you like this.
âLennyâŠâ It comes out breathlessly, nearly desperate. You hadn't meant for it to⊠He rubs his head firmly against you, that feeling of drool pooling a bit more intensely against your neck. You whimper, shaking arms eventually slipping carefully around him and between his arachnid legs. You were still so scared, yet here you were⊠Holding himâŠ
âOeh yoooâŠâ
. . .
What sounds like words come from his throat.
They're slightly garbled, and chirpy. The seeming knowledge and ability of an infant with the tone of some ancient, malformed beast. In the moment, you can't understand what he means.
Same intelligence as a human- his vocal cords just cant mimic our sounds very well.
Very, very cuddly!! Loves hugging you while you sleep- and if you're closer, while you're awake too!
If he manages to get you back into his nest, (either willingly or by kidnapping you) he'll wrap you up in a little silk cocoon and keep you in his web preferably forever- loose enough to let you shift and adjust, tight enough to keep you there.
Likes hearing you talk- he thinks human noises are so so interesting, even if he doesnt understand a few bigger words.
More limbs means better hugs, and he loves hugs!! Though, he might forget how large and heavy he is compared to you... and accidentally knock you to the ground...
He is incredibly fluffy, and his fur is very thick- it helps him keep warm and stay dry! And as an added bonus, he is very snoft :)
Actually quite clean! He is very meticulous about keeping his fur clean, and grooms himself often. He also might try and pick at your hair to keep you clean as well- though he will pull off ticks without warning...
Makes a purring-like noise when happy. Due to his size, you will physically be able to feel his rumbling if hes touching you.
His favorite gifts are food, because it gives him a break from hunting. He tries to give you food in return, but... things he can eat are not always things you can (or want) to eat.
Despite his massive stature, he is very quiet when walking, and will sneak up on you constantly, even if he doesnt intend to. Might need to get a bell for him...
Has beef with most pets you might have... except cats. He'll have issues with them at first, but he'll get used to cats eventually. Other animals, i would not reccomend.
VERY VERY VERY VERY VERY TERRITORIAL. Will defend his nest (and your house) very aggressively, especially if they try to hurt you.
Nearly picture-perfect memory- knows exactly where your house and everything in it is, and memorizes your routine and when you go to sleep and wake up.
Thinks any windows you build are an invitation for him to keep coming in, because theyre easy to break and he can see through them. Thinks attempts at keeping him out are you playing hard to get, and he'll get you soon enough.
If youre out on a multi day expedition, he might lie in your bed while you're gone because it smells like you. He wont sleep there- its not nearly as comfortable as a web- but he'll lie down on top of the blankets.
--đžïž--
i love him he is very dear to me....
worked on this slowly over the course of. 2~ hours? just kept it in my drafts and added on whenever i thought of something
i am not fully caught up on the lore of the mod..... i apologize (but also dont care too much)
The Obsessed and Verity post thing ! But a bit short unfortunately. (Was going to make this a bit darker but couldnât bring myself to ? Maybe another time.)
Reader: Uh.. hey Mob ? Have you noticed anything weird lately ?
ThatMob: *Slowly turns to look at Verity then back to Reader* besides the obvious.. no.
Reader: I swear I feel like something is.. more off ? If thatâs even possible at this point.
Verity: Thereâs something outside.
Reader: Something ? Why ? I thought we were.. doing okay ?
ThatMob: *Getting a shield out* I donât hear music..
Verity: Itâs.. a strange thing.
Reader:âŠ.Pardon ?
ThatMob: If itâs strange to him then Iâm not messing with that [redacted].
â
Reader: *Rubbing their eyes.*
ThatMob: Just ignore him..
Reader: How ? How am I supposed to ignore any of.. this ? Iâm so tired..
???: *Staring through the trees.*
Reader:âŠ.I donât know how long I can do this for, somethings gonna happen soon and.. Iâm not sure if I can bring myself to do anything about itâŠ
ThatMob: *Grabs Readerâs shoulders* donât.. donât say that we can do something, weâll figure it out..
???:âŠâŠ.*Chittering curiously.*
â
Reader: *Messing around in the garden* these carrots came out really nicely.. good thing we planted so many..
*Theres a soft rustling on the other side of the cobblestone walls.*
Reader: Hm ? Mob ? *peeks around.*
*The rustling gets louder..*
Reader: Mob ? This isnât funny..
*Something moves closer to the wall closest to the garden and Reader.*
Reader: Verity ? Please I.. Iâm tired, if I did something then can we talk ?
???: Ta.. lk�
Reader: *Flinches and looks up.*
???: *Staring down at Reader from the top of the wall.*
Reader: What.. the ? Who�
Verity:..What are you doing ?
???: *Makes a screech-like sound as he skitters away.*
Reader: *Whips around* ..Verity ?
Verity:âŠ..What are you doing ?
Reader: Gardening..! What.. what was that�
Verity: A strange thing.
ââ
ThatMob: Why is there a dead cow on the porch ?
Reader: A what-?
ThatMob: *Turns to Verity* ..well ?
Verity: The thing put it there.
ThatMob: Of course it did.. *walks away* Iâm getting a shovel.
Reader: *Covers their mouth at the sight of the cow.*
Verity: You shouldnât look at it, youâll get sick.. again.
Reader: Ugh..
-
ThatMob: We can put some.. flowers on the âgraveâ if you want ?
Reader:âŠReally ?
ThatMob: Yeah.. Iâll go out and get some.
Reader:..Thank you.
ThatMob: Iâll even bring him with me, you can take a nap.. at least try to.
Reader:âŠAlright.
â
Verity: Why are we out here ?
ThatMob: Getting flowers for them.
Verity: Get tulips, they like those.
ThatMob: I know what flowers they like.. *grabs some poppies.*
ââ
Reader: *Staring at the mound of dirt where the cow is buried* I canât do anything right anymore..
???: *Slowly inches behind.*
Reader:âŠIâm sorry..
???:âŠ..*Snatches Reader up from the ground.*
â
ThatMob: *Walks through the door* Iâm back.. got the flowers.
ThatMob:âŠ.Hey ? Are you still sleeping ? *moves the bundle of blankets on the bed* ..not here.
-
Verity: *Frowning.*
ThatMob:..Where are they ? And why do you look like that ?
Verity: Theyâre not here.
ThatMob: Oh really ? I didnât notice with the empty house !
Verity: The thing took them.
ThatMob: What ? What are you talking about-?
Verity: -It took them, Mob.
ââ
Reader:âŠ.Um..
???: *Sets an apple near Reader.*
Reader:âŠAn apple ? Thank you..
???: Ea.. t.
Reader: Okay.. Iâm eating.. *rubs the apple on their shirt and takes a bite.*
???: *Tilts his head and points at Readerâs shirt then to the apple.*
Reader: What ? Oh.. uh thatâs a way to clean it in case itâs dirty ?
???: Cl.. ean.. dirt.. yâŠ
Reader: Yeah..
-
Reader: You really enjoy making.. webs ? You do look like a giant spider.. guy ?
???: *Tying webbing together.*
Reader:..Why am I here ?
???: *Glances at Reader and makes a happy clicking sound.*
Reader:âŠI donât know what that means, sorry..
???: *Pauses for a few moments, before carefully picking Reader up and sticking them in the newly made web.*
Reader: Yeah no, this doesnât help eitherâŠ?
ââ
Reader: Howâs.. Lenny ? Itâs a cute name.
The Obsessed (Lenny): *Slowly blinks a few times at Reader* Le.. n.. y�
Reader: Everyone has a name.. even if we donât keep the ones weâre given.
Lenny: Lik.. e..
Reader: *Smiles a bit* ..Iâm glad.
Lenny: *Hesitates before dropping something near Reader.*
Reader:âŠWhatâs this ? *picks up the piece of paper* ..oh itâs a drawing ? Is this me and you ? And.. Mob too ?
Lenny: *Nods.*
Reader: Awe..
-
Reader: I should go home, talk to Mob and.. Verity about you.
Lenny: *Rapidly shakes his head.*
Reader: Theyâre probably worried, I feel bad that they might be worrying.. and I canât leave Mob by himself.
Lenny: *Pushes his face near Readerâs face* n.. no.
Giving a gold star to Shiesty everytime he does something good but he scoffs everytime he recieves one
The minute you stop he's on his knees begging for the stickers please he'll be a good boy just bring them back
mark isnât a child, he doesnât need approval by you giving him a simple sticker. however, he does enjoy the way the sticker glitters on his suit or how happy you are he does something good.
âso, i saved this elderly lady, even if it wasnât worth it.â the words came out quick, mark stood in front of you while his arms had folded over his chest. he awaited, watching you move from your shared bed to the desk took too long in his opinion. then his frown turned into a small smile, how you held up the sticker sheet that had praises on each circle. you picked out a pink sticker that had the words, âgood job!â before placing the circle on his chest. marks hands flew to his sides, his arms grasping his hips as he puffed out his chest with prideââyâknow, i also saved a dog from getting ran over by some drunken dude. could use another praise babe,â his attempt was successful as he earned another sticker with the words, âyou rock!â on it as well.
selfish, narcissistic, lazy asshole were the kindest words people would use for mark. lazy was his last straw, as he would prove them and anyone else wrong. he stared at the full sink of dishes, they stared back at him as he saw the flies circling the dirty plates and cups. mark could throw up, a small shiver went up his spine as he grabbed purple gloves that went to his forearms. the gloves had fitted him tighter, due to them being sized for you, but regardless he progressed. mark slowly scrapped off the leftover food on each plate, this made him realize how much food he forgets to throw out. he began a system where heâd scrub every plate with soap, paying extra attention to bowls and plates that had bits of food stuck on the rim. after nearly two hours, mark had finished washing and dry the dishes, sitting on the kitchen counter as he awaited for you to check out his hard labor. mark was soon rewarded with three stickers on his chest one more.
âyâknow, youâve become more of a suck up lately.â you began, watching mark as he washed the dishes after your shared dinner. he tensed up, the plate he held in his grasp nearly shattered as he slowly turned to look at you. âthe fuck does that mean?â he scowled, his eyebrows furrowed, âi didnât mean it as a bad thing,â you replied. âiâve just noticed that youâve.. changed recently, thatâs a good thing.â you attempted to calm mark down, all he responded with was a scoff as he turned around and began scrubbing the plate with soap. âi donât know what your own about, and i donât wanna know either.â he heard your laugh, mark wouldnât turned around again, because then youâd be able to see the scowl he had earlier softened. heâd rather lose his sticker privileges then let you see heâs losing his bad boy reputation.
âŠ
âcan i have the star sticker? also could you call me your good noodle?â
a/n: IM GETTING BACK INTO WRITING FICS !! had to enter flow state for this to happen, i apologize for how late this fic is
You didnât expect that question when you were in the middle of farming.
You turned your gaze slowly up from the carrot you just harvested from the earth to stare at him, baffled.
âWhat are you talking about?â
He didnât answer.
He didnât have to.
You saw them.
âOhhâŠâ
So thatâs what this is about.
.
You went on an adventure with Verity two days ago.
You wanted to just explore the world, Not look for anything and Verity was more than ecstatic to walk with you.
He pointed the way to abandoned structures that he personally made sure were safe the night before so youâd be able to loot happily even if you said you didnât want anything..
He was so stuck on the feeling of being helpful he forgot one thing. Well.. Three things.
You âstumbledâ across an abandoned pillager tower. It was particularly nice since the view from the tower was absolutely breathtaking.
âWow! The view is great here Verity!â
âI know.â
âOf course you do.â
You laughed, making your way back down with him in your hands. You talked about something you forgot but it was long enough to last until you were on the dirt floor again, ready to leave until you heard a noise.
Your reflexes awoke in an instant as your turned with a sword pointed but paused as you saw no immediate harm.
âWhat..?â
Then you heard it again to your left.
You turned again, ready to swingâ.
âOh-!â
It was a trio of Allays in a prison.
Right.
You forgot those spawn in.
âUm.. I feel bad leaving them- Iâll just free them really quick.â
You put Verity down to work freely. His left eye twitched while you cut the wood down.
Oh he wasnât going to enjoy this.
You freed them and thought theyâd fly away.
They followed you for ten steps.
You turned to stare in confusion.
âOh! Right, You guys like stuff?â
You gifted them some random things: A rose, A dirt block and a stick.
Oh you did it now.
You were very late to learn that they follow you relentlessly with items you gift them.
Days passed as you gifted them random stuff in hopes theyâd leaveâ And they did! For short amounts of time only to bring you back more of what you gave them.
Once realizing they wouldnât leave you gave them boring tasks to keep them entertained.
One was to collect seeds from the ground that randomly dropped, one gathered the vegetables you couldnât hold anymore and one just held cookies.
In hindsight.. Maybe it was a terrible idea to keep them but ushering them away also seemed mean!
.
â.. No. I donât like them more than you.â
âWell youâ.â
âYou know I donât like them better than you.â
You hated cutting him off but you also hated what he was like when he was jealous.
âBesides, youâre more helpful than them anyways.â
Sorry Allays! But it technically was true..
â.. Okay!â
You sighed in relief seeing that smile plastered on his face.
âOne also just dropped your carrots for a feather.â
âMY CARROTS?ââ
â
I was getting drawing ideas and stumbled on an allay picture and just laughed about the idea. Itâs almost 12 in the morning.
Edit: I made art of this this idea making me very happy.
I planned on making this longer but Iâm tired đ All I can make out for now.
â€č Part 1. | Part 2. > | Part 3. >
Doesnât it always start the same?
Players get bored, they go into a frenzy obsession over something in the game and play for long hours weeks on end. Itâs fulfilling, until itâs not.
It always is the same end.
Worldâs abandoned.
Reasons blurred into one ugly truth;
It just wasnât enough anymore.
.
A new world, a new host.
The same aching smile twitching on his lips as heâs in the same four wall cardboard for the nth time.. Waiting to be opened.
âHelloo? Is somebody there?â
Patience is a hell of a thing.. Heâs done this so many times, yet he canât help himself but feel hopeful.
Aching that this time itâs different..
The reactions are always expected at this point
The box opens, he falls and bounces; The ground is never merciful. Itâs something he doesnât fondly look forwards to.
âGuh! â Ahem.
Helloo! Iâm Verity, your personal helper friend. Ask me anything! I know everything!â
âYou know everything?â
Itâs always the same, more of less.
âYep! Ask me anything!â
âHmm. AlrightâŠâ
A test waiting to happen.
Players doubtful until he proves himself.
âWhere are we right now?â
âA plain biome!â
A flash of surprise. Itâs always amusing to see that.
âOkay. Hmm.. What is that flower?â
âA rose.â
âHaha! Okay, Okay.. Hmm. How aboutâŠâ
A pause.
âWhatâs my name?â
âY/N!"
The smile never wavering, voice ever so cheerful.
âWow! Thatâs.. right.â
Thereâs the uncertainty. Itâs always bound to happen.
âDoes the mod script look into my computer? Itâs not unheard of..â
The player mumbled, Verity gave them the liberty of having that moment to themselves.
âWell, whatever. You could be useful.â
He beamed at that praise, the smile getting more wider at the corners.
He wanted to enjoy that, even if itâs just for a second.
.
It was a full day with Verity.
You learned very fast that he did know everything.
It started innocent, you didnât even mean to ask him.
âFuck. Where even am I? I canât even find a damn animal... Where the hell are they?
You were hungry and couldnât even see any animals nearby. You went hunting and were so far, unsuccessful.
âTurn around.â
You nearly jumped from your chair, forgetting about that yellow ball since you put him in the far end your inventory and not hotbox.
âOh- Um.â
You did turn and almost face palmed. There was hoards of animals you seemingly didnât even realize.
âHow long.. Ugh. Thank you.â
âYouâre welcome!â
Then it shifted.
Pointless wondering that led to empty land was getting to you,
He knows everything, right? So whatâs the harm in..
You equipped him, setting him down on top a dirt block so he could be somewhat eye level.
â..Verity?â
âYes?â
âUm.. Do you know where the nearest village is at?â
âHead east!â
âEast?â
âEast is to your left.â
âI know â Oh no, I mean, thank you.â
He made a sound of acknowledgment as you turned and began walking.
It was a surprise that a village was there, waiting.
You pushed after that, wanting to test the yellow smiling ball.
Taking over a villagerâs home, you put him atop a crafting table as you stare at him.
âVerity.â
âYes? How can I help?â
âWhereâs.. Where is the nearest diamonds?â
âY-level -98.â
You hummed, equipping a pickaxe and re-grabbing him.
âLetâs go see if thatâs true!â
âI tell the truth and only the truth.â
.
It was strange, really.
Everything he said was true.
Like he really did know everything..
There really was diamonds.
There was a village where he said it was.
The animals you swore werenât spawning in, were there where he said.
âWow Verity.. Iâm sorry for doubting you. You really do know everything!â
âHeh, Told you so. I know everything, ask me anything!â
You couldnât help the puff of laughter, it was a little silly to see a mod act smug.
Maybe thatâs why you couldnât see what was happening.
You just saw this as an advanced mod.
.
Verity seemed to have a strained smile on day four.
You passed day two to three finding an area to build your first house, gathering recourses and barely finished when the sky was turning on day three. You were glad to have a place to no longer worry about the mobs.
Maybe thatâs why you didnât notice. Your attention somewhere else in your world.
You gave a second glance as you settled Verity atop a furnace as you smelted food, preparing for another cave. His smile looked odd, but you told yourself it was probably because you didnât pay attention to it before so you didnât notice that detail.
Finally, after much time in quiet, you finally spoke.
âI think I might go mining today.â
You included Verity in on your plans, maybe you felt a little bad for ignoring the modded ball.
It didnât help that he didnât reply right away like he did before. It caught you off guard, not expecting the long pause.
âVerâ?â
âYou should head west. Thereâs a nice cave that has lots to offer.â
âOh. Uhh. Thank you..â
You felt strange, not expecting to wait so long but brushed it off as a slight glitch on the mod.
Without hesitation, you took the ball and wondered to where the cave was promised. You wondered if you should be so dependent on a mod, but he didnât prove to be wrong yet so what was the harm..
And right on cue, you found a small cave entry.
You couldnât hide the fact your smile and trust wavered, but câmon! How could a cave that small hold anything valuable..?
You held hope still. Wondering inside with torches. It didnât take long to see what Verity meant. Ores of varieties shined in the light and you instantly felt bad for doubting the ball yet again. You were thankful you didnât voice your concern.. That wouldâve been embarrassing.
âOh wow! This really is a great cave! Thanks Verity.â
âYouâre welcome.â
He spoke differently, didnât he?
It didnât sound fondly like before- But it was cheerful..
Maybe youâre thinking too much into it.
You spent a good chunk of the day in that mine, grinning as you were headed home.
You stopped as noon was settling, equipping Verity to thank him again but paused.
His faceâ.
âHey.. You- Werenât smiling?â
You swore you saw it.
But once in view, Verity was smiling widely with his teeth shining.
OddâŠ
âIâm smiling now.â
â.. I guess?â
You tried to not think about it and go back to your haul.
Maybe just another glitchâŠ
You settled home very quickly after that, arranging your new stuff into chests quietly as Verity watched with that wide teethy smile.
It was uncomfortable the way you felt his eyes on you.
Itâs been quiet between you two since that incident earlier.
You havenât tried to talk to him and he hasnât offered any friendly advice.
You quietly shuffled around the house, keeping your mind busy so you didnât have to think.
It didnât last.
You took a small breath, turning to look at Verity as you offered the most polite smile you could muster in this situation.
âSo.. You know everything..â
âThatâs correct.â
âYeahâ. Well.. Is there anything in particular you can also do?â
There was a small pause.
âIâm built to be your personal helper friend. Anything you need.â
âThatâs.. very vague.â
There wasnât an answer back. Great.
It was just silence for a long while after that.
You did anything to keep busy, smelting ores, cooking food and planning ways to expand the house. Anything that came to mind, you just didnât want to be in this empty silence.
Eventually the silence became too much for you. You tried again with Verity.
âDo you know where another village is at? The last one didnât have very good trades.â
ââŠThereâs two in the West. I advise skipping the first one and going towards the second one.â
âHuh? Why? Do they also have bad trades?â
You didnât realize the hesitation from his answer, trying to liven the mood between you two again.
How unfortunate for you.
â..No. Theyâre gone.â
You paused. A second, a minute. Then stared at the ball with utter confusion.
âHaha.. What do you mean theyâre gone? Villagers donât despawn like that.â
âSomething passed by it.â
âSomething passed by it?â
âSomething hungry.â
âWhat? What do you mean?â
âTheyâre gone.â
Verity sounded firmer on that answer and you flinched slightly at the tone of his voice, unused to how this was turning.
â..Okay. I wonât go there.â
No answer yet again.
You were starting to think to yourself what the hell you got yourself into..
.
.
It was funny, really.
He tried a little more this time.
The monster craved what it craved, however.
He couldnât stop that.
You certainly couldnât either.
It watched, gaze studying as you shifted nervously around in the house.
Should it be this amusing, watching a player try so hard to pretend everything was okay and resume their game as best they could?
Grunts echoed in the open land, drool seeping from the corner of the stretched skin that formed a smile.
He was so hungry..
Youâd forgive him, right?
.
.
He didnât want the answer to that.
.
ââ
Itâs three in the morning and my thoughts are plagued by a small yellow ball.. I had more planned but I need my sleep bruv
Smth Smth Verity having you as his new player. Him fluctuating between being a clinger and avoider after ep 3 because he WANTS to get close to reader but also fears reader doing the same thing Mob did because of him being clingy and possessive.
In the end Verity can't stop himself from clinging to you but he tries to be less 'antagonistic' and controls himself from shapeshifting into his monster form.
But Verity can't help it, he's obsessed with how friendly you are. You aren't Mob, in fact, you might even be better than him! Maybe he'd indulge himself one more time...?
Reader that thinks Verity is just one of those horror games that acts like a 'virus' that uses their computer data to get accurate information. Honestly an average person would have personal data randomly scattered about in their computers and browsers, especially since Verity has access to the internet.
Somehow reader and Verity's friendship flourishes and lasted longer than mobs. Verity's still insanely possessive and now even obsessive with you, and since Verity is not confined just within Minecraft... Expect to see that yellow ball everywhere very soon.
