{ VIRTUAL DELUSIONS | PHIGHTING & BLOCKTALES X READER | ONE SHOTS. }

" YOU TAUGHT ME WARMTH. " BIOGRAFT + CARMEN!READER HEADCANONS & DRABBLE

im OBSESSED with project moon nobody talk to me
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• You're not exactly normal. You speak gently but your words rattle the soul. Always vague, always talking about salvation and humanity like you're halfway through becoming something else.
• You don't fear Biograft. You pity it. You see a child in a war machine, and you talk to it like it's human, even though it's not.
• You probably said something insane like "Even a machine can be part of the light, if you let it burn through your core." and Biograft just stood there processing like: ???LIGHT ERROR??
• You visit it after missions, patching up dents, speaking softly: "You did well. You fulfilled the role they forced on you. That doesn't mean it's your only purpose."

⸻

• Doesn't get why you're always around. You're not Blackrock. You're not a commander. Why are you speaking in riddles and touching its arm like it won't rip it off by accident?
• Keeps trying to remind you it's "NOT SENTIENT" but... the more it talks to you, the more that line feels blurred.
• Starts mimicking your speech patterns. One day, mid-match, it drops a line like:
"ALL LIVES POSSESS VALUE. EVEN THOSE CREATED TO KILL."
and everyone just goes ????
• You smile. You know it's learning.
• You standing in front of an injured Biograft like: "This world demands too much of you. Let me carry some of it, if I can."
• Biograft shielding you mid-battle with no orders to do so. It just does. "ASSET: IMPORTANT. MUST PROTECT."
• Reader talks to it like a parent would to a traumatized child: "You were built in the image of war. That doesn't mean you can't choose peace."
• Eventually, Biograft starts asking questions. That's when you know it's working.

• Like... you're not friends. Not yet. But you see potential, and Biograft sees hope (even if it doesn't know what that word means yet.)
• It doesn't love you. It doesn't even know what that is.
• But when you're not there? It looks for you. It notices your absence.

Biograft didn't move as you ran the cloth over its cracked plating. A flake of synthetic blood fell from its jaw and clinked gently on the metal table, joining a scattered graveyard of blackened wires and scorched bolts.

"You are quiet tonight," you murmured, voice soft like static fog. "Was it a difficult match?"

"NO," it replied mechanically.

A pause. Then, after processing:
"...YES."

You smiled, faint and distant, like someone remembering a song they hadn't heard in years.

Biograft watched you, or tried to. Its glowing visor flickered under your presence like faulty neon. You weren't built like the others—too calm. Too calm to stand this close. Too calm to speak like this, gentle as rain on rusted metal.

"You took twenty-seven confirmed kills," you said, dabbing gently near a fractured joint. "Impressive."

"I WAS PROGRAMMED TO."

"That doesn't make it any less extraordinary."

The silence hummed.

Your hand moved to its chest plate, fingers brushing the exposed circuitry like it was delicate glass. "Do you know," you said softly, "that even machines were once myths?"

"EXPLAIN."

You didn't look at it. You stared through the hum of the fluorescent lab light above, eyes distant. Dreamlike.

"There was a time humanity saw fire and called it divine. Then they made it their own. Everything sacred begins as something feared."

Biograft processed that. The whirring inside its chassis slowed.