The Tide, A Mass Effect Fanfiction

She can’t fall apart, not yet. They’re in the middle of a war. Her pain comes second to the suffering of trillions of people on hundreds of planets all across the galaxy. She is Commander Rhys Shepard of the Alliance Navy, the first human spectre, the entire galaxy is counting on her.

She doesn’t talk about it when she returns from the citadel. She offers Kolyat a place on her crew, she isn’t surprised when he declines.

Kaidan is the first person to ask if she’s okay. All eyes are on her in the crew quarters. Garrus, Liara, Tali, and Chakwas stand nearby, their faces filled with questions she never wants to answer. She laughs it off and flashes them all a smile.

Because she’s okay, she’s always okay.

She can’t fall apart, not yet.


But then he sends her that letter . The Letter.

I will await you across the sea.

She barely makes it back to her quarters before she falls down on her hands and knees. Her entire body shaking with sobs.


If all else whispers back into the tide.

Her chest clenches tight. Her heart aching painfully. She only has ten minutes before something needs her attention. Ten minutes to grieve the love of her life.

X

She’s a mess of smudged makeup and ruined hair when EDI patches Traynor through to her cabin.

“Commander Shepard,” Traynor begins. Her voice sounds far away, blood still roaring in Shepard’s ears.

“Admiral Hackett is available on comm.”

She stands up from the floor, absently rubbing her fingers over the marks the steel grating left on her skin. They tingle and sting as blood begins to flow to the affected areas once more.

“Commander?” Traynor asks, sounding worried when Rhys doesn’t answer her right away. Rhys takes a deep breath and rolls her shoulders, hoping she doesn’t sound as though she’s been crying.

“I heard you, Traynor,” she says, her voice harsher than she meant it to be. Traynor signed off immediately after that, with a quick apology.

Rhys says nothing in return.

Instead she goes to her ensuite and hastily washes her face, scrubbing away the smudged makeup and fixing her hair. She doesn’t have time to reapply anything before she has to be on the comm with Hackett. It’s unfortunate.

Her face is ashen with grief, her dark skin pale and sickly. She looks like a ghost, her cheeks gaunt, her gaze distant and glassy. Her eyes are stained with dark circles underneath, so pronounced they may well be bruises from battle.

Hackett seems surprised by her appearance like, but doesn’t address it. By now the whole Alliance Navy must know that she’s a widow. The thought that so many strangers would know something so personal about her rolls her stomach. She doesn’t voice her concerns.

X

She re-reads the letter a million times. It makes her chest ache, her lungs swell, her eyes burn.

She hides in a secret area she found in the shuttle bay, curled in on herself as she reads Thane’s final message on her omni-tool. She cries. Of course she cries. It’s almost impossible for her to stop crying. But they are fighting a WAR and she doesn’t have time to be this selfish.

Still, she indulges herself. Playing holovids of their wedding, reading countless hours of messages, listening to his voice. She does it all sitting alone, cramped in the tight space she found in the shuttle bay when everyone else is sleeping.

X

Chakwas asks if she’s alright next. Her lack of sleep is becoming dangerously apparent. It is now something she can’t hide with the application of makeup. The skin beneath her eyes is almost black, much darker than her own complexion.

“I’m fine,” Shepard responds. Because she’s always fine. Chakwas doesn’t look convinced.

“You need to get some rest,” Chakwas commands.

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” Rhys responds.

Chakwas gives her a sad look. Rhys can hardly stand it.

X

Cortez catches her reading The Letter, tears streaming down her face. Her hand is over her mouth to prevent her sobs from escaping. Her whole body shakes with them, her ribs popping and cracking as she trembles in her awkward position, folded in on herself.

“Oh Shepard,” is all he says before he’s moving her, gathering her into his arms. She struggles against him, her movements erratic and wild she she pushes against his chest.

She won’t break down in front of her officers. She’s their last beacon of hope. She’s disgusted with herself for being caught doing something so vulnerable. So human.

“I’m sorry,” she says when she frees herself from him. But she doesn’t mean it.

She rushes away, heading towards the door as quickly as she can. She wants to be free from this embarrassment.

“Shepard!” Cortez calls after her. She stills for a moment, turning her head over her shoulder to hide her tear stained face from James as he exits the elevator. James stops too, curious.

“It’s okay to grieve,” Cortez tells her. She snorts and laughs out loud, harsh and unforgiving.

“I wish someone had told me that when I lost my husband.”

It’s suddenly too much for her. Chest tight and aching again at the thought of Him. The thought of Thane’s final prayer, his final words, his final letter. She wants to scream, she bites her tongue to hold it in.

“Are you alright, Lola?” James asks when she passes him.

“Fine,” she says, boarding the elevator and heading to her cabin.

She’s not okay.

X

Liara is the next to ask her if she’s alright. And it feels like the more people ask her that question, the less alright she actually is.

“Shepard,” she says, her voice soft and melodic when Rhys tries to brush off her question.

“Don’t,” Rhys says.

Liara sighs.

X

Tali tries to get her drunk sometime after that. She supposes it’s to dull the pain of her loss, or at the very least to lower her inhibitions enough to get her to talk about it.

It doesn’t work.

Rhys isn’t interested in dulling what she feels. That would be an insult to his memory. If she had died first, he wouldn’t have forgotten her.   Thane would remember everything. Her laughter, the curve of her cheek, the swell of her lips, the freckles that brushed across her cheeks. She’s overcome with grief at the thought.

She leaves before Tali can pour the first drink.

She takes the elevator back to her cabin and sobs uncontrollably until she vomits.

X

Garrus is there when she finally breaks. The last chink in her armor. He finds her in the hallway, curled in on herself after she ends a holocall from Kolyat.

“Shepard,” He says in surprise.

She’s crying, her makeup smeared across her face from her fingertips. She rubs at her eyes hastily as Garrus stares down at her, his expression belaying concern.

“Garrus,” she says, voice heavy with grief.

He doesn’t ask if she’s okay. It’s obvious she isn’t. She hasn’t been even before Thane died.

“Garrus,” she says again, a sob tearing free from her lips.  

Garrus.”  His name is the only thing she can say.  She feels so weak.

She reaches for him.  

He’s by her side in an instant, pulling her to her feet and gathering her into his arms.  She’s embarrassed.  She can’t even stand.  

He carries her to the elevator.  

She rests her cheek on the cool breastplate of his cool armor.  She’s exhausted.  

Garrus says nothing.  He carries her to her quarters in silence.  Moving through her room to place her down on her bed.  She groans in protest, holding onto him when he tries to put her down.  She points towards her shower.  

She half expects him to protest, but he doesn’t.  Instead, he walks back towards her ensuite, placing her down in front of the entrance to the shower.

Rhys closes the door behind her and sheds her clothing.  She turns the shower on to the hottest setting and stands under the spray.  She lets it wash over her, erasing everything is, still crying miserably when it doesn’t erase her completely.  

She wills herself to stop crying, to stand tall and act like herself.  Act like the Commander everyone expects her to be.  There’s no time for her to be like this.  And yet, it’s all she’s done for months in the wake of Thane’s death.  Selfishly mourning his loss when the entire galaxy is falling apart at the seams.  

X

She fully expects Garrus to be gone when she’s finished showering.  She has no doubt that she scared him off with her soft whimpering sobs that were not at all drowned out by the roaring water of her shower.  If anything, they echoed through the chamber, amplifying the sounds of her grief.  

She wraps herself in a towel and looks at herself in the mirror.

She’s a shell of herself.  This was has taken its toll on her.  She looks like a ghost in the mirror.  Her eyes are hollow, face even more gaunt than the last time she caught a glance at her reflection.  There are creases around her mouth and eyes, a result of endless stress and suffering.  

She’s nothing more than a husk.  She wishes someone would put her out of her misery.  

She exits her ensuite and heads to her bed.  A few hours of sleep and she would be able to function.  She could get through tomorrow without breaking down.  

She tosses her towel haphazardly onto the floor.  She would worry about that when she woke up.  For now she wanted nothing more than to be dead to the world for at least the next few hours.  She prays silently to every deity in the galaxy that she doesn’t dream about Thane.

She doubts she’ll be that lucky.

“Shepard,” Garrus’s low voice sounds from behind her when she bends her knee to climb onto her bed.  

She jolts in surprise, turning her head towards him and crossing her arms over her bare chest.  

“Garrus,” she says, surprise evident in her tone, “you’re still here.”

He stands, moving towards her with a grace she had not thought Turians possessed.  

“Of course I’m still here,” Garrus says, his tone sounding almost accusatory, “I’ve given you month’s, Shepard,” he shakes his head sadly and looks at her, “And you haven’t come to me.  You haven’t come to anyone.

“I had hoped you would speak to at least one of us if not me in particular.  You didn’t.  Then I found you on the floor in the hallway of the crew quarters…” he trails off then, a sad look on his face.  

He’s worried about her.

She can’t even look at him.

“Talk to me, Rhys.”

She can’t.

She can’t.

She can’t.

She shakes her head no.  A soft whimper escaping her lips.

“Shepard,” Garrus says, concerned.  He reaches for her, but she jerks away from him.

“You’re cold,” She says when he looks hurt by her actions.

All she wants to do now is sleep.  She wants to be alone and sleep off the pain that sits heavy in her chest.  

“Rhys,” he says, his voice insistent and filled with concern.

“Please just leave me, Garrus,” She tries, “I just want to sleep.  Tomorrow we’ll know if we’ve won this war.  I…” She trails off, shaking her head and closing her mouth with a soft click of her teeth.  

“Let me stay,” he says.  And she knows she won’t deny him.

Garrus has been her best friend for years.  She needs him.  Has needed him for months.  He had given her the space she needed, something no one else had been willing to give her.  

“Not a good idea,” she protests weakly, but doesn’t put up much of a fight.  

She feels helpless.  

X

He sheds his armor and climbs into bed with her.  She has her back to him, hr face buried into the pillow Thane used to use.  

His scent is long gone, erased by the passing of time.  The fabric smells like her now, but she can still remember him.  

All she has left of him now are traitorous human memories.  She knows when those will fade with time.  The thought tears her apart inside.

Garrus holds her, his hands gripping the blanket where it covers her waist.  

X

She’s fading in and out of sleep, consumed with grief, and delirious when she starts talking.

“I loved you, you know,” she admits because it’s true, because he’s holding her in the absence of her great love, because he’s the aftermath of her destruction.  Her archangel.  

“I know,” he says, with profound sadness.  Because he’s always known.  

“It would have been so much easier with you,” she chokes out between sobs.  Because it would have been, he was still here.  He would outlive even her.  There wouldn’t be time to erase him from her memory.  She wouldn’t have to lose him the same way she had already lost and was still losing Thane.

“I know,” he says.  Because she’s right.  Because in that moment he would have done anything to make her feel whole again.  

But the truth remains.  Quiet and unspoken between them.  

She LOVED him.

she had loved him.


She’s inconsolable after that, face pressed into Thane’s pillow, staining it with tears.  

Maybe one day she could find it within her to love someone else.  Maybe one day that would even be Garrus.  

She whispers her promises to him in the dark, his face pressing against the back of her neck.  The harsh feeling of his scales ground her to reality.  Her lips still working around promises of love and forever.  

“I know,” Garrus repeats, placing his hand flat over her bare stomach, “I know.”

He repeats the words over and over and over again until they fall asleep.  

X

Tali and Garrus follow her into hell.  Their final mission, finishing the reapers where it all began for her.  On earth.

The battle is hard and not easily won.  Soldiers die in mountains around their feet as they march, armored feet beating against the ground.  They’re at the last leg, the final part when she bids them to leave her side.

Garrus protests, unwilling to leave her.  

Of course he protests.

She meets his gaze, leaning up against him and pressing her mouth to his in a short, chaste kiss.  It’s the only thing she can give to him for now.  The promises from the dark of their night spent together hang between them, unspoken.  

Go,” She whispers against his mouth.  Because it’s the right thing to do.  Because she won’t have another person die for her.  She won’t have someone else erased .

Because if nothing else, she wants Garrus to live .

“Come back to me,” he tells her.  Because it’s all he can say.

“To us,” Tali adds.

She says nothing in return, backing away from him and Tali and turning towards her fate.  

“I love you,” she says to Garrus, to Tali, to Thane, to everyone she’s lost in this war.  Because she does.  Because it’s all she has left to say.  

Her words are a whisper, drowned out by the roaring tide of battle.

X

In the end her choice is simple.  She watches Anderson die.  She sees the Illusive Man for what he is; a puppet just like everyone else.  

She sees mountains of bodies, the reaper ship is filled with hordes and hordes of the dead.  The stench is overwhelming, dizzying.  

In the end, it isn’t even a choice at all.

“Choose,” The boy, another ghost from her past bids her, “choose.”

And she does.  She runs, clutching at her battered body, every part of her screaming in pain as she does.  

“Choose,” the ghost says still, the command barely audible over the roar in her ears.  

She jumps, soaring into the light, willing to sacrifice herself in order to give new meaning to the galaxy. Her galaxy.  To end the cycle the only way it could end, with her.  

Every cell in her body is alight.  She’s burning and disintegrating, and she’s rewriting history.    

The Galaxy, her great unwritten symphony.  She would leave behind her legacy.  Sewing seeds of herself into every piece of the universe. That would be enough.  

All else would whisper back into the tide.

Video Game Mockaries: Dating My Daughter Part 4

NSFW Warning

There are no words to describe how I feel in the wake of posting this. So many new fans have risen from the ashes to yell at us for not posting the next part of this debauchery. 

I’m Des, that’s 13 and this is Jack Ass. 

Dedicated to kuresoto

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Me: I hope you remember how much I care about you
Thirteen: ??
Me: Because I’m bout to fuck your shit up, nerd.
Thirteen:  Oh noOOOO IT’S THAT TIME AGAIN 
Me: Where do we go?
Thirteen: Jesus. Nowhere is good.
Thirteen:  Like what could possibly even happen in the bathroom?
Thirteen: That we want to see 
Thirteen: We know the bedroom is basically Ground Zero and we’ve exhausted the couch. So to speak. 
Thirteen:  Like what would a good, non-creepy dad do? NONE OF THESE THINGS.
Me:  I mean maybe Lolita has to pee? 
Thirteen: Why do we need to be there for it though. (Fuckin. Was watersports on the kink list? …did I ask that? I feel like I did.) 
Me: Or poop? She did eat a lot of pizza. (You did, and it is not).
Thirteen:  so much she cOULDN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE AHAHAHA 
Thirteen:  Okay well. I guess it’s…slightly…less terrifying…than Ground Zero.

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Me: We’ve somehow ended up back on the couch. Even though I chose bathroom. 
Thirteen: Ugh. It IS getting creepy how they keep insistently referring to it as a date. 
Thirteen: Like I talk with my mom about making plans for a date so we can go hit up thrift stores and shit but like. We only say that like, once. 
Me: I feel like this is more acceptable between you and your mom since you know…you’ve seen each other like almost every day since your birth.

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Lolita: Or thirty. Please tell me you have matches?
Thirteen: Or, forever. Just stay there. We’ll leave. You can keep the dildo pile.

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Me: WHAT IS THAT HAND DOING? 
Thirteen: Nothing natural or human.
Me: PLEASE TELL ME HE’S NOT GOING TO TAKE HER HAND AND LEAD HER TO THE BATHROOM.
Thirteen: Can’t you just say “oh yeah, right down the hall, first door you see” or something? 
Thirteen: THIS DOES NOT NEED TO BE A GROUP EVENT.
Thirteen: I know it’s basic politeness and literally everyone does that but it sort of makes me snort every time someone asks if they may use the bathroom. 
Thirteen: Like someone’s going to go “NO YOU MAY NOT PISS ON THESE PREMISES” 
Me:  CUSTOMERS ONLY.
Thirteen:  Especially in a situation like this where they’re FAMILY (which cannot be overemphasized) and in one of their homes. 
Thirteen:  Like, you’d ASSUME yes, your family will allow you that much, sheesh.
Me: OH HE MOST CERTAINLY WILL.

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Thirteen: Oh, good.
Thirteen: Also shit girl
Thirteen: How fucking long is that fucking hair
Thirteen: It’s like ass-length, AND pulled up nearly on top of her head 
Me: It’s 5’6 but she’s only 5’3 
Thirteen: LOL
Thirteen: I like that “mmm”. Like she’s carefully contemplating the bathroom. 
Thirteen: “mm yes, solid structure, continuing the all-white theme (seriously even the TOWELS are white fucking hell, COLOR IS A THING), hideous fake-marble slab floor…” 
Thirteen: “all in all, a solid 3/10”

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Me: …
Thirteen: …you apparently intend to watch while she pisses, maybe? 
Me: Or maybe the shower is to small to fuck in? 
Thirteen: I dunno, she’s pretty tiny. Though her tits will take up half of it.

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Me: As soon as I clicked next
Me: Santiago said “What the fuck”
Me: And it was completely unrelated to this, but still somehow exactly how I feel.
Thirteen: …..why does he not have a door to his bathroom

w
h
y

Thirteen: Are we SURE there weren’t any bathroom-related kinks on the list because…
Thirteen: Also…how fucking stupid is Humbert that it doesn’t occur to him that the lack of a door MIGHT be an issue
Me: I mean he thinks his Italian neighbor Paolo is a pizza delivery guy
Thirteen: Okay, fair
Thirteen: So I guess we can just assume he pisses in front of everyone all the time and thinks that and the clapping spectators is totally normal.

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Humbert: *sweats* bathrooms don’t come with doors, sweetie. That is simply not how things are done.

Thirteen:  Humbert may or may not be an alien 
Thirteen: Or he’s simply a filthy degenerate pervert, and we know which one it is.
Thirteen: The awkward-ass pose of her legs is bugging the shit out of me.
Thirteen: And I’m assuming this den of horrors is tiny as hell but man, that speaker there keeps cracking me up since it’s in such close proximity to the mysterious doorless bathroom.
Thirteen: I think his entire home is the size of my bedroom. Or my snake’s terrarium.

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Me: FFFUFUFUCK SHE TURNED AROUND REAL QUICK.
Thirteen:  I imagine her just whirling around like a spinning top with a “fWIP” sound 
Me: THAT’S BASICALLY HOW IT HAPPENED. 
Me: PRETTY SURE I EVEN SAW HER TITS WOBBLE. 
Thirteen: I was just going to ask how she kept her balance with her giant fuckin tiddies because her ass is NOT big enough to counterbalance that much silicon.

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Me: NO SHIT. WHAT HAPPENED TO IT, HUMBERT? 
Thirteen: Did it get broke in one of your disgusting sex parties or did you remove it to make said sex parties easier? Haha just kidding, you’re way too much of a moron to have sex parties. And not nearly smart enough to lure that many ten-year-olds home. 
Me: EXPLAIN YOURSELF YOU CREEPY OLD MAN.

Blah blah blah this whole bathroom door shit continues on and on about how Lolita is just like “How can you live like this” and Humbert is like “I haven’t been laid in years” (not really, but stars and storms we were all thinking it). He really only said the rent was cheap and there was a nice shower. Leading to Lolita asking the hard hitting questions:

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Humbert: Well honey, obviously I’d just leer at her while she pees. What ELSE would I do?

Thirteen: Seriously, though. I cannot believe there is not some kind of fetish associated with this. Why the fuck else would his bathroom inexplicably have no door? 
Thirteen: If that’s NOT a kink thing, it is just so bizarrely RANDOM. 
Thirteen: PS: what if you dad is gay, Lolita? WHAT THEN?
Thirteen: (then he’d be in a better game with a better daughter and be hitting on other gay dads, that’s what).
Me: (Preferably gothic gay dads).

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Me: *SLAPS SELF IN THE FACE* 
Thirteen: Humbert 
Thirteen: Why 
Thirteen: Would you even think that 
Thirteen: She clearly meant a ~GIRL~ girl, like “a girl I want to impress and preferably fuck”.Why is your first thought your daughter
Thirteen: (I know why, because you’re disgusting, but humor me.)

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Me: *TRIES TO CLIMB OUT OF THE WINDOW*
Thirteen: Yeah you’d like him to be thinking about you wouldn’t you you atrocious trollop?
Me: She’s trying to be smooth. Trying to find out if he’s seeing anybody.
Me: I see right through you, Lolita.
Me: Oldest trick in the book.
Thirteen: I guess just asking if he’s seeing anybody outright (like, say, when she mentioned her mom has a boyfriend) wouldn’t be creepy enough. Gotta subtly hit on him so he doesn’t think she’s just interested in his life. 
Thirteen: And man, they have not talked about themselves at ALL for a long-estranged parent-child pair. 
Thirteen: I know it’s because they have no personality except “revolting” but still. 
Me: *sighs wistfully*  If this were Amanda and Alphonse they would have already started making bacon and she’d be telling him all about her classes at college and Lucien would be there making veggie bacon and Damien would be braiding her hair. And everything would be good and just in the world. 
Thirteen: And it would be The Cutest Thing. 
Me: AND THEY WOULD HAVE DOORS ON THE BATHROOMS. 
Thirteen: WHAT A FUCKING CONCEPT.
Thirteen: Shit Damien probably has like, six bathrooms in his beautiful-ass goth mansion 
Me: *Swoons over Damien briefly before returning to the train wreck that is my life*
Thirteen: Right. Yes. This. -mournful sigh-

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Humbert: But I’ll be listening…waiting.

Thirteen:  Well you would
Thirteen: If you had one
Thirteen: I feel like “there’s not a fucking door” should have been mentioned when she asked to use the bathroom in the first place, by the way. Not that you’d know, Humbert, since nobody ever visits you.

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Thirteen: …
Thirteen: Lolita, stop agreeing with me, you shameless tramp.

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Me: I feel like this isn’t something you should have to say to your father? Like maybe it should be obvious to absolutely everyone that he wouldn’t peek? Just saying?????? 
Thirteen: Jesus, okay, look. I, admittedly, have a bladder of iron, but I fucking promise you I would be entirely capable of not peeing around someone who I was worried might fucking peek on me.
Thirteen: Because that is fucking vile.
Thirteen: Lolita you little cockwomble, you are absolutely into this. Stop playing coy.

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Me: Jump out of a nearby window 
Me: run out into traffic 
Me: eat glass 
Thirteen: All of the above is also a choice for extra credit.
Me: Call Paolo a guido until he beats the shit out of you. 
Thirteen: I mean at least if he does that then his creepy slut daughter will be hitting up some guy she isn’t fucking related to.
Me: I don’t know man, maybe watching her father get beaten up by fake delivery drivers who deliver Italian-style frozen pizza to her door is like her kink or something. 
Thirteen: I mean, I’m assuming Paolo would at least put him out of commission if not kill him 
Thirteen: So she’d have to jump him for lack of other options (with functional lungs) 
Me: Necrophelia? 
Thirteen: 
Thirteen: Well, that is a fair risk to consider.

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Me: *THROWS HANDS UP IN THE AIR*
Thirteen: WHY IS THIS A CHOICE?
Thirteen: Jesus this game makes me feel like I need to go to church and I am literally a Satanist
Thirteen: And nothing has happened yet.
Me: OBVIOUSLY DON’T PEEK, HUMBERT. I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHY YOU NEED ME TO BE YOUR CONSCIENCE FOR WHATEVER REASON. 
Thirteen: I feel like we’re the two halves of his conscience (both of us are “good” because lbr you can’t get much worse) shrieking into the void that is his skull and trying desperately to avoid absolute disaster.
Me: And ultimately failing. 
Thirteen: The hell of it is that we know it’s futile but we still have to try.

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Lolita: No dad – IF THAT EVEN IS YOUR REAL NAME everything is definitely not okay. Now that I don’t have to pee so bad I can’t think straight, let’s go to fucking LOWE’S AND GET A FUCKING DOOR.

Thirteen:  Shit at this rate I’d accept a piece of plywood awkwardly leaned against the wall.
Thirteen:Also, what the fuck? 
Thirteen: Was he expecting her to share details of how delightful her piss was or was not? 
Thirteen: Who asks that 
Thirteen: (Except a creepy weirdo getting a boner about girls peeing).

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Me: IT DOESN’T HAVE A DOOR, LOLITA.

Lolita: Except for the lack of door. And hideous floor. And blindingly white color scheme. And generally being smaller than a closet. Also, the six cameras I found hidden in there. Besides that, it’s great.

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Me: -_-. They’re gonna have shower sex aren’t they? 
Thirteen: I’m still convinced her tits will take up half or more of the shower, so does it count if one of them isn’t technically IN the shower? 
Me: If Bill Clinton has taught me anything. It’s that, if it isn’t all the way it ain’t sex.

Blah blah blah. Semantics. Bullshit. Dumb shitty boring dialogue. Lolita suggests they continue their date. I question my sanity. Thirteen questions if she ever cared about me at all. We’re still somehow on day one. This is some sort of alternate universe where days last 172 hours and not having doors is trendy.

Thirteen: Also, white is the BEST color for everything! Except floors. Those come in “ugly blond wood” or “fake-ass marble”.

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Me: There’s only one option left.
Thirteen: Die? 
Thirteen: I will also accept “murder-suicide”. 
Thirteen: You can decide if I mean in-game or out. 
Me: I’m too far away to murder you. And yes, I would still say that even if I was sitting right next to you. 
Thirteen: Shit. Welp. 
Thirteen: Ground Zero it is, then. 

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Me: did…did her boobs get bigger
Thirteen: Shit, I dunno, probably. I’m too mesmerized by her weird hair which is both floating and sitting at a weird angle. 
Thirteen: And like. Literally nobody talks like this. 
Thirteen: I’ve never had anyone ask me that when they see my room. 
Thirteen: But mostly they coo over how cool it is because I have a personality, unlike Humbert. 
Me: Unless you’re me and you immediately demand to hold a snake and also where the cat is. 
Thirteen: Nah, that’s pretty common too actually. 
Thirteen: It basically falls into gushing over the skulls, or asking what lives in the terrariums and maybe if they’re friendly enough to be held. 
Me: I knew I should have asked “So this is where you sleep huh??” Then suggestive eyebrow waggle and laid down on your bed with a rose between my teeth. 
Thirteen: That’s what you get for not planning ahead. 
Thirteen: Is Lolita going to ask next if he does anything…else…there while “coincidentally” squishing her tits together?

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Me: No, but this is just as bad.

Humbert: Want to…try it out?

Thirteen: I like him better when he’s being a fucking moron.

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Lolita: By “it” I mean your dick. And by “jump” I mean insert into my vagina.

Thirteen: That, or she’s back to being twelve (or, well, younger) again.
Thirteen: Anyway sure go on I’m sure Humbert would love to watch you black your eyes with your tits. 
Me: A new kind of fetish. 
Thirteen: I mean, I’d like to watch stupid twats beat themselves up but I don’t get off on it so I guess that doesn’t count.

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Humbert: What are you? Twel-OH

Thirteen: I guaran-damn-tee you do not have ANY interest in jumping or running or any other bouncy movement until you strap your gazongas down, girl.
Thirteen: And if you did you’d get over it REAL QUICK
Thirteen: And I know beating on the shit dialogue is basically a dead, buried, rotted, and exhumed horse at this point but who immediately (or ever) asks to jump on someone’s bed
Thirteen: Who?

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Me: 
Humbert: 
Me: 
Humbert: 
Me: *DRAWS SWORD* THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE!
Thirteen:
 He’s just trying to clarify to figure out if she’s young enough for him (I mean I’d be surprised if he knew his own daughter’s age tbh)
Thirteen: (Intro text be damned)

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Me: I read that as “You say you’re good in bed” and I was like “Fuck did the game glitch? Is this what happens when you peek on her peeing?” 
Thirteen: I really do not need to have Humbert pop a boner over Lolita’s bouncing titties, game. Please stop this.

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Me: I say we let her jump. Maybe she’ll knock herself out with those giant tits. 
Thirteen: Man, I’m leaning no just because fuck you, hussy, you may NOT jump on the bed like a fucktard. What if your 100-lb ass breaks it? She likes us too much anyway. 
Me: But what if discipline is her thing? 
Thirteen: Yeah, but like, isn’t it worth it just ot not let her get her way for once? Then we can pointedly not punish her later.
Thirteen: Also, she’s gross and I hate her. 
Me: Alright. No Lolitas jumpin on the bed.

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Me: She got so mad she dislocated her jaw.
Thirteen: Because it’s stupid and you’re stupid. 
Thirteen: Alternately: BECAUSE I’M YOUR DAD AND I SAY SO!

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Me: SO THE TRUTH COMES OUT.
Thirteen: With your stupid, fat ass. 
Thirteen: Now go lock yourself in the bathroom and cry
Thirteen: OH WAIT.

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Humbert: Yes.

Me: Yes.
Thirteen: Yes.
Thirteen: Absolutely.
Thirteen: We are in agreement, you’ve been voted off the island. Before your fat, fat ass sinks it.

In-game Humbert says no. Lolita goes back to her self-absorbed begging. “Lemme jump. Daddy lemme jump.” She will not take no for an answer.

OH WAIT. SHIT WE HAVE ONE LESS GREEN POINT. YES! WE DID SOMETHING RIGHT!

Thirteen: -FISTPUMP- WOOOO
Thirteen: My instincts were correct!

Humbert still fucking lets her jump on the bed. I guess this was going to happen whether we wanted it to or not. 

Thirteen: Well yes. Gotta watch them fake-ass tiddies bounce. 
Thirteen: Why doesn’t she have her OWN bed to jump on? Or does she actually live in a cardboard box?

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Thirteen: I am mesmerized by her teeth. I wonder how many rows of them she has.

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Lolita: No daddy, I like it dirrty 😉

Thirteen: Now hold that pose, sexbot.

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Me: His bed is also white. I don’t know why I’m surprised. 
Thirteen: Man her proportions are hilarious. How does she not topple over like, constantly? 
Thirteen: And what is that? A blank mint-green canvas?
Thirteen: Is that your attempt at decorating, Humbert? 
Me: Modern art some hipster in a coffee shop sold him because he said it would make him seem intelligent. 
Thirteen: Except he probably said it in a way so that Humbert only understood like 25% of the words because he’s as thick as pig shit. 
Thirteen: Anyway hurry up and break your spine you stupid child so we can kick your gross ass out.

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Me: What is this? An apartment for ants? 
Thirteen: I’m telling you, Kaa has better digs than this. She technically has TWO bedrooms. 
Thirteen: And if she had a bathroom it would have a door. 
Thirteen: Well, if snakes could use doors, anyway.

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Me: She’s just calmly floating in the air. 
Thirteen: Well she is a succubus. 
Me: Quick, Lo. Make your head turn all the way around next. Vomit split pea soup. Do something interesting. 
Thirteen: At the very least, speak in tongues or refer to yourself as Legion.

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Me: OH REALLY? COULD HAVE FOOLED ME. 
Thirteen: VRRROOOMMM HERE COMES THE AIRPLANE.
Thirteen: We know you’re a kid on account of the fact that you’re like twelve, Lolita. This is not news. 
Me: It’s VIRGIN airline’s newest addition. Sexbot plane 3.0. 
Thirteen: Virgin my ass. 
Thirteen: Hell, my ass is a metric fuckload more virginal than this thing is. 
Me: MY ass is probably a metric fuckload more virginal that that thing is. 
Thirteen: I wish I knew a slutty gay dude to claim HIS ass was more virginal, but alas. 
Me: I know several, but none I can call out tag on Tumblr :P.

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Me: NO STOP GET BACK UP WHAT ARE YOU DOING. 
Thirteen: STOP POSING LIKE THAT RIGHT THIS INSTANT.
Thirteen: also wow he has a solid rock bed
Thirteen: that’s…different
Thirteen: …and apparently one massive pillow.
Me: QUICK KILL HER AND SHE’LL ASCEND TO GOD MODE AND HOPEFULLY HAVE MORE SENSE THAN THIS. 
Thirteen: Do we REALLY want to give her MORE power?

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Me: …no.
Thirteen: No, Lolita, we’re not spitroasting you, so fucking stop it. 
Me: Her legs do kinda look like hot dogs.
Thirteen: I mean her entire body looks like a poorly put-together meat golem so
Thirteen: They might BE hot dogs.

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Me: 

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Thirteen: I swear to all the gods, if this leads to some kind of tickle or wrestling match
Thirteen: I didn’t really have an ending for that I just really hope it doesn’t
Thirteen: I also just now noticed her shorts are crawling right up her ass
Thirteen: Nice classy clothing to wear to meet your dad.

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Me: ….WHY DID THE CAMERA ANGLE CHANGE? 
Thirteen: Clearly Humbert is moving in for the kill 
Thirteen: I like how the railing looks alarmingly like a baby crib 
Thirteen: Also, cameo from the dildo pile 
Me: It’s subliminal messaging. The game wants us to know on some level she’s nowhere near 18. 
Thirteen: I knew that the second it said she was eighteen 
Thirteen: Also, nice “smell my armpit” pose.

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Me: *sighs* here we go. 
Thirteen: -hopefully- …to smother her? 
Me: I love how have to click it too. It’s like the game is reminding me “HEY YOU. YOU ASKED FOR THIS. PICK UP THE PILLOW AND FROLIC LIKE THE DISGUSTING OLD MAN YOU ARE”. 
Thirteen: Why can’t we be a stuffy old coot? This game is ruining ~MY IMMERSION~. 
Thirteen: Though I mean she’d just seduce us into being fun (“fun” means “disgusting”) then.

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Humbert: Smother you. And maybe also take you to the hospital since your arm seems to be permanently glued to your head.

Thirteen: Her spine is broken as fuck, too.
Thirteen: I’m pretty flexible and that twist makes MY back ache. 
Me: Oho. you’re flexible hm? (fuck what have I become?)
Thirteen: Now now, don’t try to distract me with flirting. You started this and by the gods we’re going to finish it. 
Me: We’re not even past day one. We’re going to die here. 
Thirteen: I refuse to die trying to finish some gross incest game. 
Thirteen: Let me die with dignity. Probably while trying to make an angsty elf love me.

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Thirteen: …smother you.

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Me: I’m not even sure how she can tell that’s a pillow. 
Thirteen: Pillow, giant marshmallow, nondescript possibly-untextured shape, whatever. 
Thirteen: And I feel like, if you could write worth a damn, something like “what are you–DO NOT” would make more sense and not make her seem like a bumblefuck
Thirteen: But then again I’m glad she’s not screaming “NO DADDY NO”
Thirteen: So

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Me: This is what happens when I don’t skip. ACTUAL TORTURE. I don’t care about any of this shit. 
Thirteen: Man she is committed to that pose

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Me: IF THIS IS THE ONLY OPTION WHY THE EVER LOVING FILLET-O-FUCK DO I EVEN HAVE TO FUCKING CHOOSE IT!?!?!?! 
Thirteen: …with a shovel!

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Me: *CHOKES ON LAUGHTER* WHAT EVEN IS THIS POSE??
Me: HOW ARE YOU EVEN SURPRISED? 
Thirteen: He is SO trying to smother her. 
Me: YOU SAW HIM GRAB THE PILLOW. 
Thirteen: Alas, he is a fucking moron. 
Me: TIME TO DIE, LITTLE GIRL. 

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Me: Ah yes, I too make a prime dick sucking face when I’m hit in the cheek with a pillow. 
Thirteen: I’m pretty sure it hasn’t even touched her yet. She’s just prepping early. 
Thirteen: What the FUCK is going on in the foreground though 
Thirteen: That blobby, vaguely boxlike shape?
Me: Another pillow? 
Thirteen: Fuck, who knows. 
Thirteen: Certainly not the guy who made this. He thinks the only color is white.

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Me: OH SUCK IT UP, LOLITA. YOU DON’T EVEN LOOK HURT. 
Thirteen: Sure, got smacked in the face, so you completely change positions and clench your shoulder while making a stupid bitchy pouty face. 
Me: Makes perfect sense.

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Thirteen: Much like an uninvited cock up the ass.

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Thirteen: I think she wins some kind of award for having the most epic wedgie ever. It’s so epic it’s making her ass do things I don’t think a human ass was meant to do. 
Me: Her panties/ass cheek spreaders have bravely gone where no panties have gone before. 
Thirteen: Godspeed to those doomed souls. 
Thirteen: Then again, how the fuck horrible were you in life to be reincarnated as the panties of this little harlot. 
Thirteen: So maybe it’s deserved.

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Me: Her tits have now eaten her shorts.
Thirteen: Her smile is creepy and dead-eyed no matter what. It’s kind of impressive, really. 
Me: It’s the wedgie. It’s possessed her. 
Thirteen: Or her eldritch abomination nature creeping through the facade. Either/or.

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Me: IT. JUST. KEEPS. GETTING. WORSE. 
Thirteen: Her tits look like literal grapefruits. And possibly are
Thirteen: And her mane appears to have vanished into the ether.

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Me: Idk what the fuck that face means, but I’m betting she just farted. 
Thirteen: Or shit herself. Whichever. 
Me: Wouldn’t put it past her. Especially considering the BATHROOM DOESN’T HAVE A FUCKING DOOR.
Thirteen:  I was just going to say “probably because she’s been holding it since the doorless bathroom incident”.
Me: Great minds :P.
Thirteen: I mean they really only gave us one avenue to pursue there :P.
Thirteen: With the mysterious doorless bathroom 
Me:  With the suspiciously nice shower.
Thirteen: Allegedly

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Me: Can you not tell from her face that she shit herself? And/or needs to sneeze? And/or is having some sort of orgasm? And/or the possession is wearing off? 
Thirteen: I’m going to go for “all of the above”.

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Me: SUDDENLY 
Thirteen: Are you pregnant, young lady? 
Thirteen: Whatever, is it time for her to fuck off now? 
Me: *hopeful*  Is the day finally over???

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Me: I…feel like this…might be a trap. 
Thirteen: Just close your eyes so daddy can grab dem titties. 
Me: I just fucking snorted so loud Santiago woke up and asked me what just happened. 
Thirteen: Nothing that belongs in the realm of anything good and holy, tbh.

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Me: Fresh air is a HELL OF A DRUG.
Thirteen: Is she jet-lagged or literally sick? Jesus. Also, Humbert, for fuck’s sake stop hoverhanding yourself. 
Thirteen: I know you’re disgusting but if you’re not going to change that then just accept it. 
Me: He’s preparing his hands to grab dem titties. 
Thirteen: I didn’t know it was that big of an event. But then, I guess they are the first titties he’s touched since his mother’s.

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Me: AUGH NO I JUST WANT THIS DAY TO BE OVER! 
Thirteen: Humbert you absolute assmaster it is 4:34 AM over here let me fucking sleep.
Thirteen: She’s jet-lagged or pregnant or whatever! Leave her alone!

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Me: FUCK YEAH. SHE’S ASLEEP. AND POSSIBLY MASTURBATING. I DON’T KNOW. I DON’T CARE. HAHA IT’S OVER! DOBBY IS FREE! 
Thirteen: I hope she died. And her tits continue to freak me out. 
Me: I mean look at that face. That is not the face of an alive person. 
Thirteen: That’s not the anything of an alive person. Or a human, for that matter.

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Humbert: Time to put my dick in her mouth.

Thirteen: Hell, she clearly prepped for it before inexplicably passing out.

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Me: *CHOCOBO NIGHTS FLASHBACKS* 
Thirteen: OH GODS SAME
Thirteen: I THOUGHT I’D BLOCKED THAT OUT.
Thirteen: LOLITA WOULD YOU LIKE TO GO NUDE CHOCOBO NIGHT RIDING?
Me: LET ME SHOVE SOME CHOCOBO GREENS UP THAT PUSSY.
Thirteen: THEN CHOCOBO COCK. WE’VE FINALLY DISCOVERED WHAT THE BESTIALITY BIT IS! 
Me: And if she’s not pregnant now, she’s gonna be real soon. 
Thirteen: I’m 97% certain this is now the origin story of the Chocobo Nights bitch, before she realized her love for giant chicken cock and started her ranch. 
Me: Sally Jane “Call me Chickabo” Johnson. 
Thirteen: Obviously, she tried to leave her old life as Lolita behind. WHY? ONE CAN ONLY PONDER (and play this to find out). Spoilers: it involves fucking her dad.

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Me: OH FUCK. ME. I WISH YOU COULD HAVE SEEN THIS SHITTY EYE OPENING ANIMATION I JUST WITNESSED. GO BACK TO SLEEP LOLITA FUCK. I DON’T WANNA DEAL WITH THIS. DAY ONE WAS OVER. YOU ALL SAW IT. 
Thirteen: -SHRIEKS-
Thirteen: THOSE EYES ARE NOT OF THIS WORLD.

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Me: UP SHUT YOUR FUCK AND GO BACK TO SLEEP. 
Thirteen: HE FUCKING VANISHED INTO THE HELLPIT FROM WHENCE YOU BOTH SPAWNED. BEGONE, SHE-DEMON.

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Me: WHO WALKS LIKE THIS???? 
Thirteen: Oh look she magically has shoes again. And who ANYTHINGS like she does?

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Me: She looks so much like a twelve-year-old here like.
Thirteen: Just jerkin’ off on the couch
Thirteen: Okay but like
Thirteen: From what I understand of the layout of this shoebox 
Thirteen: There is like, NOWHERE you can’t see. Because it’s the size of a smallish closet with no real walls. 
Thirteen: Like? Bitch, use your eyes??

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Me: WHO ????????????? POSES ???????? LIKE ????? THIS ?????? 
Thirteen: Sexbot Pose #7 loaded.
Thirteen: And hello again, dildo pile 
Thirteen: Nice to see you’re still popping in for cameos.

Blah blah blah “It’s almost 6pm” and Lolita suddenly has to go. Where? I don’t know. To Paolo’s apartment to get fucked presumably. Then this happens:

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Thirteen: I’m gonna presume from her expression that he just got his dick out 
Me: *Say no to this from Hamilton plays in the background* *INSISTENTLY

Humbert: You can stay the night… -zip- …if you want… -waggles dick at her-

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Humbert: WELL FUCK GUESS I GOTTA GET OFF THE SOFA. *DICK STILL IN HAND* EYY BB U WAN DIS DICK?

Thirteen: I am unusually terrified what getting off the sofa means…

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Me: Here’s hoping Elena is her girlfriend
Me: and they’re exclusive. 
Thirteen: Hell, I’m just hoping she’s not related to Elena.

Elena left 15 messages, Lolita is holding her phone weird. The screen goes black. It’s still day one. My life is a lie. How can a day be this long. Holy fuck. 

Thirteen: oh my goooddddsssss.

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Me: I’m p sure you have been kidnapped at least a little 
Thirteen: Your super-creepy pedo dad who you’re trying to seduce

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Me: Elena seems like she’s got a good head on her shoulders. Lolita! be Elena.
Thirteen: No fucking shit, sweetcheeks. You took after dad there. (By which I mean you’re a fuckwit.) 
Thirteen: Why is Elena in this? She seems too normal and not-moronic. 
Me: They’re probably gonna kill her.

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Me: YOU KEEP SAYING THAT WORD. 
Thirteen: Yep guess you have time to fuck off forever okay bye? BYE!

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Me: OH THANK THE STARS ABOVE. 
Thirteen: YES
Thirteen: YES PLEASE 
Thirteen: JESUS HOPSCOTCH CHRIST PLEASE!

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Me: SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GET OUT, TAMMY! 

Lolita: …but it was also, like, super creepy, so let’s never talk again, okay?

Thirteen: Oh wait wait wait I think I figured out the Elena thing. She was Lolita’s backup plan to get out quick if things got creepy, but then Lolita never contacted her at their agreed-time to confirm she was okay. You girls are about as organized as a senior citizen orgy.

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Me: baby girl *cringes* 
Thirteen: STOP IT I CALL MY CAT BABY GIRL LITERALLY FIGHT ME
Thirteen: YOU CANNOT MAKE THAT CREEPY I WILL MURDER YOU.

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Me: NOPe. gET OUT.

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Me: WHY WOULD YOU EVEN SAY THIS????
Thirteen: Go. AWAY.
Thirteen: FOREVEr, PREFERABLY 
Thirteen: AND TELL YOUR WHORE MOM SHE RAISED A TERRIBLE LITTLE DISASTER!

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Me: GOOD, GET OUT!
Thirteen: ALRIGHT WELP BYE THEN!

Lolita says she’ll call Humbert sometime this week to set up another date. Again with that terrible godforsaken word. And he, being the pathetic pedophile he is, eagerly awaits her call. Then this:

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Me:NO
Me: STOP
Thirteen: jESUS NOT THIS SHIT AGAIN!
Thirteen: How do they make a simple hug so CREEPY?

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Me: THE FUCK DOES THAT EVEN MEAN? DID HE FINALLY BUY A DOOR FOR THE BATHROOM?? 
Thirteen: I’m concerned with why that handle is so high considering Humbert is like eight feet tall or something.

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Me: OH FFFFFFFFFUUUUCCCKCKKK NOOOOOO!!
Thirteen: -SCREECHING- END. END, DAMN YOU. 
Thirteen: I HAVE SHIT TO DO BEFORE I DIE
Thirteen: PLEASE END WITHIN THE NEXT YEAR.

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Me: WHAT TTHE FUCK THE FUCKING FADE IN THIS SHIT JUST DID WAS FUCKING JARRING AS FUCK. 
Thirteen: I don’t know if it’s the sleep deprivation but Elena is actually semi-cute. dost mine eyes deceive me? 
Me: I don’t know man, I lost the ability to see 9 years ago. 
Thirteen: I mean they probably are since it’s 5 FUCKING AM

Blah blah blah a total repeat of the phone conversation. Elena was worried was gonna call the police or some shit. There’s a PARTY????? FUCK NO ELENA SHUT THAT SHIT DOWN. ABORT. ABORT. DO YOU HEAR ME YOU GIANT VAGINA????

Thirteen: ugh I am nOT FUCKING PREPARED FOR THIS OKAY?
Thirteen: FUCK THIS. I AM STOPPING THIS ON ACCOUNT OF NEEDING TO SLEEP BECAUSE I AM ACTUALLY DOING SHIT TODAY
Thirteen: FUCK YOU LOLITA!
Me: I FUCKING GIVE UP. IT’S DAY TWO. THERE’S NO DAY COUNTER. 
Thirteen: GOOD NIGHT. -SLAMS PALMS ONTO DESK, LEAVES- 
Me: GOOD NIGHT.

To be…continued??

Video Game Mockaries: Dating My Daughter Part 3

NSFW Warning

Here we are, continuing on our journey of self-hatred and terror. 

Once again with 13​ by my side, we will prevail. 

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Thirteen: Man it’d be cool if we had the technology to identify someone before seeing them in person.
Thirteen: Also, what the fuck?
Thirteen: You’re EXPECTING your daughter, and she just totally doesn’t resemble what you remember of her at all?
Thirteen: I think this just stopped being as creepy because this is clearly some other random girl. 
Me:  Pretending to be his biological daughter to get a free place to stay. 
Thirteen:  Yep. And dick, inevitably. And probably the dildo collection. 
Thirteen:  His REAL daughter got lost, met a cute girl, and ended up running away with her. 
Me:  And they all lived gaily ever after. 
Thirteen:  And far far away from her incestuous pedo dad.

Blah blah blah more talking still in the same hallway. Awkward conversation is awkward. Until FINALLY:

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Thirteen:  So why is she standing like she had her hip explode anyway?
Me:  She’s protecting her hip from attack. 
Thirteen:  That’s not the bit you wanna protect hon 
Thirteen:  It’s a little lower.

Blah blah blah Humbert just says the exact same thing like 900 times. She calls him dad, we both die a little on the inside. 

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Me:  How about: golly gee dad, how come you’re crowding me up against the door and staring at my tits? 
Thirteen:  The cartoon bear on her giant tiddies is a nice touch. 
Me:  It’s Whinnie the Pedo Trap 
Me:  Oh wait that wasn’t Lolita talking this whole time. 
Me:  That was Humbert. 
Me:  Haha it’s even in a different color and I should have noticed this and I feel dumb. 
Thirteen:  Oh I was too busy trying to translate tiddy bear’s heart. 
Me:  I was too busy being visually assaulted by bright white and bright red simultaneously. 
Thirteen:  Yeah this place must be hell to keep clean based on all the fucking bright white. And that was BEFORE she got here. Gods know it’s going to be much filthier now.
Thirteen:  Also, I am SO uncomfortable with how short she is. I mean, sure, petite women exist and are great but it’s NOT helping the “she is 12 with a boob job” vibes.
Thirteen: Which I suppose is the point. 

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Me:  She pretty much looks exactly like my 13 year old niece is said niece had blonde hair. And giant plastic surgery tits. This is hard to look at, not gonna lie. 
Thirteen:  Nice that she’s stuck in Sexbot Pose #5 now, thrusting her familial tiddies at us as much as possible. 
Thirteen:  Seriously, who holds their arm like that? I just tried and it was not comfortable.
Me:  ow. You’re right

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Me:  I just wish they would fucking stop talking. 
Me:  Every click is more and more of this boring bullshit. 
Thirteen:  It could be worse.
Thirteen: Just remember that.
Thirteen:  Soon you’ll wish for boring.

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Thirteen:  Yes yes you want to jizz all over her pudgy chipmunk face we get it shut up.

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Me:  auggghhh.
Thirteen:  Eeeaaauuughhhh.

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Me: Well fuck what do we pick? 
Thirteen:  I mean my choice is “touch her as little as possible”.
Thirteen:  But are we going for “try to do this ‘correctly'”, “intentional sabotage by being as gross as Humbert really is”, or “AVOID INCEST AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE POR FAVOR”? 
Me:  We’re going for minimal self-sabotage morbid curiousity while also not trying to be a shitty father. 
Thirteen:  I’m not sure how to do that, man.
Thirteen: Considering what we have to work with. 
Me:  Man I think we should just shake her hand. That seems fatherly. 
Thirteen:  He’s so gonna grab her tit. 
Thirteen:  (Well, probably not, but you know he WANTS to.) 
Me:  LET’S FIND OUT.

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Me:  I’m pretty sure we got 0 points. We’re the best at this game. 
Thirteen:  I think someone put her jaw on wrong. It keeps looking weird. Well her lower lip does. 
Thirteen:  Is there a “bad” end where we don’t fuck our daughter?
Thirteen: Let’s try for that one.

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Me:  This handshake has gone on too long now. 
Thirteen:  Watch even seemingly innocuous actions become creepy as fuck through the magic of this…thing!

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Thirteen:  Everything occurring here, yes 
Me:  Yes.

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Me: WELL YOU’RE SOL LOLITA BECAUSE I’M PUTTING ON DAD CHARM AND DAD-ZONING YOU. 
Thirteen:  AND IT’S TERRIBLE THAT WE SHOULD EVEN HAVE TO DO THAT BY THE WAY YOU DISGUSTING LITTLE SUCCUBUS.
Me:  PUT YOUR SHORTS BACK ON AND LET’S GO GET SOME ICE CREAM AND WATCH A BALL GAME.

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Me: STOP TRYING TO MAKE SENSE, HUMBERT. I HATE YOU. 
Thirteen: “Most people hate physical contact”????? 
Thirteen: Here I was under the impression that people who hate physical contact are the outliers.
Thirteen: Wow I’m normal
Thirteen: Who knew
Thirteen: (Not me) 
Me:  I mean. Okay, but. Listen, if I was a person who enjoyed physical contact. Which I’m not. But if I was, I would basically be like “NOT YOU HUMBERT. NOT. YOU.” And just tell him I hate physical contact. Though, at 27, I doubt I’m his type. 
Thirteen:  LOL Okay fine, I guess he does have a skewed perspective.
Thirteen: Shit like this is why I got into goth fashion. Cover yourself in spikes and the pervs can’t get you as easy.
Thirteen: #lifehacks

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Me: ….
Thirteen: Yeah I bet you do, strumpet. Special hugs.

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Me:  GET IN THE CAR LET ME DRIVE YOU BACK TO THE AIRPORT. GO TO A BALL GAME WITH YOUR MOTHER. BYE LOLITA. 
Thirteen:  BAD TOUCH BAD TOUCH BAD TOUCH BAD TOUCH.
Me:  A BAD TOUCH ON MY EYEBALLS. 
Thirteen:  YES.
Thirteen:  I NEED AN ADULT.

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Me: Please no.
Thirteen: ….BAD TOUCH.
Thirteen:  Humbert you will do NO SUCH THING.

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Me:  I guess we finally get an explanation as to why she’s been out of touch for 10 years. 
Thirteen:  What? She wanted her tiddies to pop out so she could seduce him easier? 
Thirteen:  (This word game I’m playing just accepted “poon” and I feel dirty.)

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Me:  I say Humbert takes some responsibility. What do you think? 
Thirteen:  Yeah, sure. Man up and accept what a dumbass you are, Humbert.

Blah blah blah Humbert feels bad about not calling. Continues to call her honey. Blah blah blah excuses about when she left the country. Blah blah blah. Something heartwarming happens and still manages to be creepy. All leading to this:

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Thirteen:  YOU STOP THAT RIGHT NOW YOU DISGUSTING HARLOT.
Me:  I EXPECTED YOUR MOTHER TO RAISE YOU BETTER THAN THIS. 
Thirteen:  jesus where IS her mom?
Thirteen:  why is she not stopping her child from DOING TERRIBLE THINGS?
Me:  I don’t know. I guess we’re her mothers now. Don’t worry child, we’ll stop you from getting dicked by your old man. And by that I mean, we’ll kill him. And you if you don’t stop being so thirsty.

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Me:  Okay Lolita. Take it down a notch. 
Me:  Or eleven. 
Thirteen:  I’m not adopting this vile hellspawn. 
Thirteen:  She’s at least as much to blame as him.
Thirteen:  So yeah, cleanse them with fire, etc.
Me:  Brandish your sage knife. 
Thirteen:  GONNA SAGE THIS GROSS SHIT OUT OF YOU BITCHES.

Blah blah blah Humbert wants her to be there too. Blah blah blah fatherly bullshit. Blah blah blah. 

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Me:  Do we hug her or not? 
Me:  I don’t wanna play into this little harlot’s trap. 
Thirteen:  Yeah I mean, it’s a good Dadly thing to do but…
Thirteen:  That’s what this vile creature wants.
Me:  …I’ll hug her. One time. For .00001 seconds. 
Thirteen:  Awkwardly as fuck so she never wants another.

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Me: I AM DISGUSTED 
Me:  BLOCKED BLOCKED BLOCKED 
Me: YOU’RE ALL BLOCKED 
Thirteen: EW EW EW LET GO OF THAT TARTED UP TWELVE YEAR OLD RIGHT THIS INSTANT HUMBERT.
Thirteen: BAD TOUCH
Thirteen: LEGITIMATELY 

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Me:  If his couch is black, I’m leaving. 
Thirteen:  Ugh her sexbot pose is creeping me out more and more. This thing is Not Right.

Blah blah blah Lolita agrees. Some awkward fumbling. The screen goes black. And then: 

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Me:  I vote go to another room. 
Thirteen:  And never come back 
Me:  Kickflip into the sun. 
Thirteen:  It’s where he belongs tbh.
Me:  I ACCIDENTALLY HIT COMPLIMENT TRYING TO GO BACK TO THE WINDOW 
Thirteen:  AUGH 
Me:  OH MY GOD WHAT HAVE I DONE?

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Thirteen:  ABORT ABORT ABORT.
Me:  DONALD TRUMP IS THAT YOU?

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Me: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooo 
Thirteen:  AAAAAUUUGGGHHHH.

And then we’re back at the choice screen with a third green point :/. I don’t like where this is going. I choose talk to her. There’s a conversation. Then: 

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Me:  Which is creepier? “How is your mother I divorced ten years ago?” or “Are you alone 😉 😉 *nudge nudge*”? 
Thirteen:  “How is your mom” is less creepy I think?
Thirteen: That’s just nice chit-chat right?
Thirteen: Catching up on her life in a non-gross way.

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Me:  Brad sounds top notch, why not go and fuck him? 
Thirteen:  Probably already did, that’s why she’s moved on to greener (grosser) pastures.

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Me:  Way to not be creepy. Humbert. 
Thirteen:  He cccooould make sure she doesn’t have any bad impressions of him? In a good, dadly way?
Thirteen: Or he’s a creeper which is the correct answer. 
Humbert: Does your mom ever mention *blushes prettily and looks away* how big my dick is? 

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Me:  WOAAAH. BURN. 
Thirteen:  I mean she’s not wrong, as long as Brad doesn’t fuck kids. Especially his kids. 
Me: Yeah Humbert did set the bar pretty low.

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Me:  *SLAMS MOUSE DOWN HARD ON SHE’S RIGHT*  
Thirteen:  YES GOOD.
Thirteen:  HUMBERT YOU DIDN’T EVEN CALL YOUR DAUGHTER AND KEEP STARING AT HER TITS YOU’RE ACTUALLY THE WORST!

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Thirteen:  Also she probably freaked out when you named your daughter Lolita
Thirteen: Just saying.
Me:  YEAH HUMBERT. THINK OF OTHER PEOPLE FOR A CHANGE.

Humbert: *teary eyed* but I’ve changed and I can be a better father! You’ll see, LOLITA! 

Me: Presumably once he has his dick in you. 
Thirteen: That’s how you dad, right? 
Thirteen: fuck up your relationship with your wife, get divorced, make it better by fucking your daughter who reminds you of her?
Me:  Stick your dick in it, it’s diddly dang daddy done.

Lolita foolishly believes his claims. Humbert calls this a date again. Lolita is not at all freaked out by this. And we have 4 green points suddenly. 

Thirteen:  Of course she’s not freaked out.
Thirteen:  This is clearly her goal.

Now they’re watching a fucking movie. 

Thirteen:  How many sex scenes does it have?
Thirteen: Is it literally a FUCKING movie?

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Me:  I don’t know. We apparently get to choose. 
Thirteen:  Uuuuuhhhhh comedy seems safest?
Thirteen: And man she has creepy teeth. 
Me:  BETTER TO EAT DICK WITH, MY DEAR.

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Me:  She looks like she’s seen something she can’t unsee. 
Me:  Is this where the optional beastiality comes in?
Me: The comedy movie?
Me: Have we opened a whole can of worms now? 
Thirteen: Oh, so it’s worms, then
Thirteen: Not a dog after all 
Me: Ba dum tiss.
Thirteen:  We’re funny.
Thirteen: To someone. Somewhere. Maybe. 
Me: kuresoto​ likes us. 

Me: OH FUCK HOLY HELL.
Thirteen: SHIT. WHAT?
Me: I WENT TO SAVE MY GAME AND OVERWRITE THE OLD SAVE AND THIS HAPPENED. 

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Thirteen:  -SCREECH-
Thirteen: ALSO HER ANATOMY IS FUCKED AS HELL.
Me:  DON’T LOOK DIRECTLY AT IT OR YOU’LL GO INSANE 
Thirteen:  DON’T WORRY MY FIRST REACTION WAS TO SHIELD MY EYES.

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Me:  OH LOOK SOMETHING WAS FUNNY AHAHAHA HA…HAHAH…. 
Thirteen:  THAT SHIT WAS NOT HILARIOUS YOU SMUG LITTLE FUCK
Thirteen: IT WAS VILE
Thirteen: VILE

Lolita goes in about French for like nine clicks. Humbert is glad she liked the movie. I’m just glad I’m not looking at a deformed naked sim. Now we’re gonna do something else. We have six green points now for some reason.

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Me:  The only thing we haven’t done it gone to another room. 
Thirteen:  Ugh how do we make this gross harlot dislike us
Thirteen: Welp 
Thirteen: One choice left I suppose 
Humbert: Bye bitch. Gonna go take a dump. Entertain yourself for a few hours.
Thirteen: LMAO 
Thirteen: Gods, I hope so.

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Me: THIS IS NOT WHAT I WANTED AT ALL. 
Thirteen: NO IT DOES NOT NEED TO BE A GROUP EVENT 
Thirteen: I THINK WE NEED SOME SPACE
Thirteen: IT’S NOT ME IT’S YOU (AND YOUR DISGUSTING PROCLIVITIES) 
Me:  GO TAKE A DUMP, HUMBERT. 
Thirteen:  ALONE. UNTIL SHE LEAVES.

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Me: GO TO THE BATHROOM, HUMBERT. 
Thirteen: OH GODS ALL OF THESE OPTIONS ARE TERRIFYING.
Me: KITCHEN HAS KNIVES SO WE CAN KILL HIM. 
Thirteen: I WAS GOING TO SUGGEST THAT (it seems least terrifying)

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Me: *WIDE EYES AND ACTUAL IRL SCREAMING* PEDO SENSES TINGLING.
Thirteen: JESUS YOU VILE CREATURE STOP STICKING YOUR TITS OUT CONSTANTLY
Thirteen: I AM CONCERNED FOR YOUR SPINE 
Me:  UNSTUFF YOUR BRA AND PUT THOSE CHICKEN CUTLETS BACK IN THE BEDSIDE DRAWER WHERE THEY BELONG.

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Me: *screams in rage*
Thirteen:  for cock

Now instead of cooking they’re apparently going to go get something to eat which seems much safer. Oh wait. 

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Thirteen: Jesus. Pizza? Maybe our utter awkwardness at 1) not asking if she was hungry earlier, or before dragging her into the kitchen combined with 2) specifically moving to the kitchen to order pizza will turn her off.
Thirteen: Plus, maybe she’s allergic to pizza. 
Me:  We are in accordance.

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Lolita: SO YOU DO KNOW HOW TO USE A PHONE. I KNEW YOU NEVER LOVED ME. 
Thirteen:  IT’S TRUE CHILD WE HATE YOU TIME TO LEAVE.

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Me:  WHY IS THIS EVEN AN OPTION 
Me:  AND WHY ARE YOU CALLING THE DELIVERY GUY DIRECTLY 
Thirteen: Obviously that’s how pizza works
Thirteen: there’s no places that make it 
Thirteen: just fleets of delivery guys who produce it magically, pulling it from somewhere unknown 
Thirteen:  some have suggested: their asses

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Me: WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME?
Thirteen: Great camera work. On the other hand, the vile she-demon is mostly off-screen with her creepy, soulless smile. But then again, she appears to be looking at Humbert’s crotch.

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Me: None of this is even relevant idgaf. 
Thirteen: White Wall Simulator: The Game! 
Me: Dude I’m pretty sure even that would be more entertaining than this. We could like, paint it white again. Watch the paint dry. In real time. For ten hours. 
Thirteen: Diligently watch to make sure nothing mars its perfect whiteness.
Me: And not bone down on our obviously not 18-year-old daughter. 
Thirteen: The most important part of it, one could argue

The delivery guy comes. They’re at a table. Dildos in the background on a desk next to a shitty laptop. 

Thirteen:  Oh we moved to the dildo room, that’s good something…
Thirteen: Runaway just came on my media player and I am Uncomfortable.

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Me: AND THIS IS AN OPTION. AGAIN HUMBERT, WHAT THE FUCK ELSE WERE YOU GOING TO DO? 
Thirteen: Is her shirt fucking glued to her ribcage or something?
Me: Yes.
Thirteen: *in background, disgusted*  (oooooh, she’s a little runaway / daddy’s girl learned fast, all those things he couldn’t say)

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Me: *THROWS COMPUTER OUT WINDOW*
Thirteen: We return to White Wall Simulator: The Game, already in progress.
Me: THAT IS OBVIOUSLY A DOOR, HUMBERT. 
Thirteen: He gets confused.

It was obviously the delivery guy. Humbert still cocks the entire thing up and it’s like 15 more clicks before he even takes his head out of his ass long enough to open the fucking door. 

Thirteen:  At this rate I’m surprised he managed to find the right hole on his wife. So the good news is he’s just making it easier for us to try and prevent this atrocity from happening.

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Me: OH LOOK. PLANET OF THE APES. 
Thirteen: LOL
Thirteen: That is totally some dude with a frozen pizza
Thirteen: The “delivery guy” is just his neighbor isn’t he?
Thirteen: And he’s tired of trying to convince Humbert he doesn’t even WORK in a pizza place
Thirteen: So he just brings a frozen pizza over.
Me: Sorry Paolo, you look vaguely Italian and vaguely ape-like so you obviously deliver pizza. 
Thirteen:  I just noticed that box says “Italian style” and I am just laughing my ass off over here.

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Me: This is STILL going on 
Thirteen: Also that’s a great way to hold a pizza if you want all the toppings ooze into one corner
Thirteen: Furthering my theory that it’s frozen.

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Me: WHY ARE YOU INVITING HIM IN, HUMBERT? JUST TAKE THE FUCKING PIZZA. 
Thirteen:  What the fuck???
Thirteen: Are you going to pay him with Lolita?? 
Humbert: EY YO LO. I AIN’T GOT NO CASHOLA ON ME SO I NEED YOU TO GIVE PAOLO HERE A BLOWIE. 
Thirteen: Thanks, now I’m trying not to wake the house up with my hyena shrieking 
Me: You’re welcome.

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Paolo: That is is completely un-fucking-orthodox of you to invite me into your fucking apartment. Also I’m your neighbor and this pizza is frozen. 
Paolo: Also, what’s with the jailbait hooker? 
Paolo: Also nice stilts, sir. 
Thirteen: Seriously this camera is fucked.

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Me: *SLIDES OUT OF CHAIR ONTO FLOOR* *RUBS DIRT INTO EYES* *SCREAMS FOR DEATH TO COME AT ME BRO*
Paolo: …you know, for jailbait. I am calling the cops the second I get out of this pedo den. 

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Me: Paolo’s face is really unsettling. 
Thirteen: Such is his fate, being in this…thing.

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Me: OH STARS IT GOT WORSE.
Thirteen: Paolo your face is…doing…something terrible. I think your eyebrows might be trying to escape. 
Me: I love how we just silently agreed to call him Paolo. 
Thirteen:  Well it was that or we call him “delivery guy” which 1) is too long and 2) he isn’t anyway.

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Me: AUGH PAOLO STOP BEING GROSS AND TERRIBLE AND LEAVE. WHY ARE YOU EVEN HERE?
Thirteen: Because Humbert invited him in to perv over Lolita, obviously.
Me: So he can swoop in and save her and do a fatherly fakeout by shoving his dick down her throat in place of Paolo’s Italian Sausage. 
Thirteen: Jesus, probably. 
Thirteen: You’re really dodging a bullet, Paolo. She likes dads. Namely, her own. Also, dogs, probably.

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Me: Gettin a little defensive there Humbert. 
Thirteen: He thought twice about the blowjob payment. 
Thirteen: Seriously though how tall is this cockwaffle? 
Thirteen: Or is he just surrounded by the shortest people he could find.

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Me: f u c k i n g  w h y 
Thirteen: Seriously man don’t do it, bitch is  n a s t y 
Me: DON’T STICK YOUR REAL ITALIAN SAUSAGE IN CRAZY, PAOLO.

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Me: DUDE. JUST DON’T INVITE YOUR WEIRD PIZZA DELIVERY GUYS INSIDE. 
Thirteen: Even if they ARE your neighbors just giving you a frozen pizza to shut you up.

Lolita seems to think he was a nice guy. Humbert gets all pissy about it. Calls Paolo a douche. 

“Those are the worst type honey. They have no respect for Women.” Blah blah blah. 

She’s so ~naive~. 

PROBABLY BECAUSE SHE’S TWELVE. AND NOT REALLY 18 AT ALL. 

Are you sure she wasn’t 2 when you last saw her, Humbert? Hm????

Thirteen: It would better explain why he didn’t recognize her at all. 
Thirteen: And like she’s not used to that bullshit with THOSE ta-tas. Well, except they’re fake.

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Me: * soul slowly slips from body*
Thirteen: eeeaaauuuggh never mind come back Paolo.

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Me: PLEASE STOP TALKING.
Thirteen: I wish you would both explode you disgusting creatures.

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Me: WHAT DO YOU MEAN. “I WAS GOOD, WASN’T IT?” WHAT DID YOU DO, HUMBERT? 
Thirteen: -SCREECH- I’M GLAD WE MISSED IT.

Apparently there’s still more shit to do even after all this fucking time. 

*Break for working adults to go to sleep*

To be continued…

Video Game Mockaries: Dating My Daughter – Part 2

Hello again, everyone. I’ve returned from my venture out into the world and have devoured my rose petal ice cream only to return to this immediately when I come home. With 13 as my co-pilot and kuresoto, our number one fan. 

Me: *clears throat and cracks knuckles* let’s McFucking do this. 
Thirteen: I would say I am mentally prepared but I am not.
Thirteen: Bring it on.

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Me:  I love how “Father-daughter” is in quotations 
Thirteen:  I’ll just assume Humbert is already perving over her.

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Me:  UM. I’M NOT READY FOR THIS. 
Thirteen:  “Don’t act like a perv” IS NOT ADVICE THAT SHOULD EVER BE NECESSARY FOR THIS SCENARIO.
Me:  I DON’T EVEN WANT TO KNOW WHAT THIS IS GOING TO BE LIKE. I’M TOO AFRAID TO “CLICK ANYWHERE TO CONTINUE” 
Thirteen:  Jesus, same. And I’m not even fucking playing it. 
Me: *CLOSES EYES AND CLICKS SOMEWHERE ON THE SCREEN*

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Me:  I stared at this for like…three minutes.
Me: What is that?
Me: are those hands? 
Thirteen: I think we’re looking at a POV looking down at his hands in his lap
Thirteen: And apparently he’s wearing skinny jeans.
Thirteen: Or has very hairy legs. 
Me:  Wait…is his leg bent? 
Thirteen:  Yes, I think. One foot tucked behind his ankle. 
Me: A++ art.

Okay so he just keeps going on and on about being nervous this part is boring as fuck.

Then this motherfucker has this long internal monologue about how there’s no reason to be nervous, bringing us here:

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Me:  WHAT DOES THAT MEAN, HUMBERT? 
Thirteen:  I like how he’s hoverhanding his own hands
Thirteen: Even he doesn’t want to touch himself.

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Me:  You’d think he would have asked for like a picture or something? This is his fucking…daughter. 
Thirteen:  Yeah I mean you’d think they’d exchange that shit when she first made contact. 
Thirteen:  But I guess we can’t have the gross “surprise” of his boner popping up because she’s ~so hot~. 
Me:  AUGH. Of COURSE THAT’S GOING TO HAPPEN. 
Thirteen:  What else did you expect? 
Me:  For me to never ever be playing a “game” like this. 
Thirteen:  Well, yes.

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Me: Yeah, you’d like that. Wouldn’t you, Humbert?
Thirteen:  I hate myself for immediately thinking “~and bad girls need to be punished!~” 
Me:  I think we need to consider getting you professional help for your apparent internet addiction. 
Thirteen:  No I’m just a terrible person.

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Me:  Has…has he been saying all of this out loud? 
Thirteen:  Pfft hahahaahah 
Thirteen:  Apparently so.
Me:  I’m just imagining some old lady sitting next to him and clutching her purse tighter next to her. 
Thirteen:  Dude, same, old lady. Same.

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Me:  I wish he’d stop calling it that. At this point he’s still talking out loud and the old lady is getting her ass up to leave. 
Thirteen:  I wouldn’t even mind the “date” thing except I know it’s inevitably leading up to its disgusting, sticky conclusion. 
Me:  With optional bestiality.
Thirteen:  Oh yes
Thirteen: Of course
Thirteen: Can’t forget that shit
Thirteen: No matter how hard I try.

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Me:  THIS MOTHERFUCKER IS STILL AT HOME? WHAT THE FUCK. 
Thirteen:  Admiring his dildo pile 
Me:  This whole time I thought he was waiting at the airport or some shit. No he’s just staring at his giant pile of dildos. 
Me:  And ominous shadow in his TV. 
Thirteen:  Perhaps it’s a Shadowman come to claim him. But unlikely. Even they want nothing to do with this. 
Me:  They’re probably drawing straws to get to see who had to drag his ass down to hell.

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Me: door. bells.
Thirteen:  It Begins.

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Me:  It did this weird shaky animation and I was like what is happening.
Thirteen:  When did we move from dildo room to the kitchen 
Me:  After the earthquake. 
Thirteen:  And man that is one obnoxious-looking kitchen 
Thirteen:  I’d hate to try and navigate it during Thanksgiving or some shit.
Me:  I mean he does live alone. Not even his only daughter wanted to see him on holidays. So I assume he spends thanksgiving like looking at daddy daughter porn or some shit. 
Thirteen:  And eating week-old KFC.
Me:  Because grease makes great lube. 
Thirteen:  Plus who can get enough of the erotic scent of fried chicken?

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Me:  I wanna punch him in the face. 
Thirteen:  Lazy, perhaps. Disgusting, yes. An ass, absolutely.

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Me:  Ah yes. Door bells. This is obviously how it’s said. 
Thirteen:  Onomatopoeias are myths invented by the liberals. 
Me: Let her in, man. 
Thirteen:  Or don’t!
Thirteen: And save everyone!

Then Humbert is useless and it takes him like 900 more years to open the door. He keeps having dumb conversations with himself about how he hopes his daughter likes his house or some other dumb shit like how nervous he is. 

Thirteen:  Unfortunately, she did not just walk off. 

And then: 

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Me:  Woe I must venture through the valley of the shadow of incest in order to let in this man’s daughter. 
Thirteen:  Godspeed, you crazy motherfucker.

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Me:  OH MY GOD HUMBERT IS THERE A WORLD IN WHICH YOU’RE NOT USELESS. 
Thirteen:  Probably the same one where he isn’t disgusting.
Thirteen: So
Thirteen: no 
Me:  LOCAL MAN CONTINUES TO MONOLOGUE INSTEAD OF LETTING HIS DAUGHTER INTO HIS HOUSE AND SHE GETS KIDNAPPED BY LOCAL HOOLIGANS. THE END. 
Thirteen:  STRANGELY, IT TURNS OUT BETTER FOR HER.

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Me:  THIS GIRL IS TWELVE.
Thirteen:  The Lolita theme fits then! 
Thirteen:  Oh but, ~she’s 18~! Totally legal! 
Thirteen:  Jesus that face is creepy and chipmunky. 
Me:  Plus her body looks all sorts of deformed. Also where is her luggage?
Thirteen:  what do you think her “boobs” are?
Me: WELP. FULL SPEED AHEAD, I GUESS. 

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Me:  noooooo you’re not. 
Thirteen:  I wanted to say “I bet you are, Lolita” but since we actually named them that it’s not even a joke.
Me:  Nothing is funny and everything hurts. 
Thirteen:  And just think, we choose this. And by “we” I mean “you”. 
Me:  Well. You didn’t even try to stop me so. 
Thirteen:  Okay fair
Thirteen: But still
Thirteen: Like you would have listened.
Me:  I wouldn’t have. You’re right. 
Thirteen:  …also, does this look like a hotel to you? Because it does to me. 
Me:  Yes, it does look like a creepy pedo hotel. 
Thirteen:  Man, she probably caught the eye of every one of his pedo neighbors.
Me:   Quick, Humbert! Piss on her! Claim your property 
Thirteen:  Is that on the fetish list? 
Me:  I just thought “Unfortunately no” and idk what that says about me as a person. 
Thirteen:  Well, it would be better than the bestiality. Mildly. 

So they awkwardly converse in the hallway for a while. She introduces herself as his daughter. Blah blah blah more bullshit about “Wow look at how much you’ve grown”. I’m sorry for being so rude blah blah blah. 

To be continued…