#simply continue to let him exist in proximity to them

[coquelicoq]

natsume's book of friends is the hurt/comfort show of all time. not necessarily for the characters, but for me as a viewer. it hurts me, deeply, emotionally, spiritually, and then it heals me, often in the exact same instant. not in the way where they cancel each other out, but in that way where you remain forever the person who was hurt and the person who was loved through the hurt. like okay. i am literally just Sitting Here. what the fuck. who came up with this. is that allowed

[luveline]

Would you be at the write a senario where Eddie and Roan spend a night with reader at their house? Maybe Roan's princess room reveal? 🙏🙏

yes!! love u!! I think this is like 3k ish but idk i wrote it in the app like an idiot <\3 ♡ fem!reader

Before the big move, you and Eddie are trying to ease Roan into her new home slowly. You'd worked hard on her room — more than hard. Nights spent covered in paint, other nights spent working overtime to afford the paint, the four poster bed, the big chest at the foot of it for her toys. You'd bought her a wardrobe, lots of new clothes to fill it, and a small mannequin outfitted in a pricey princess dress.

Eddie thinks you're going overboard, though he obviously loves you to death for the effort.

"You don't have to do all this," he'd said, lips to the back of your neck.

But you do. You'd never painted her nursery, never stocked up on diapers or formula or playsuits. You're bringing your girl home. Her room has to be perfect.

Tonight's the night.

You and Eddie stand outside of Roan's classroom. You're nervous enough to shake with it, hands wringing themselves sore.

"Relax," he says, worming a ringed-hand between them.

You suck in a deep breath through your nose and take a step closer to him, shoulder pressing to his shoulder, his proximity a balm.

The door opens, and Roan's teacher greets the surrounding parents with a smile. She starts to call the kids up one by one.

You peek around her arm and your eyes find Roan where she's sitting with her friend Stacey P. They have their heads bent together, and you can hear their excited babbling from where you stand.

"That's her next to your dad?" Stacey asks, eyes half covered by thin blonde bangs.

Roan beams proudly. "Yeah, that's my mommy."

"She's pretty."

"My daddy says she's go-jus."

You wave at her, wanting to kiss her forever and ever for being the sweetest, funniest baby girl in existence.

She waves back until her wrist looks like it might fall off.

"Roan," the teacher calls, "come on, chick."

Roan springs to her feet with her small backpack in hand. Her big puffer coat protects your legs as she slings herself at you and Eddie.

"Hey, babe. Are you excited?" he asks.

She lifts her head and smiles with her little teeth and her tiny appled cheeks, shorn curls falling away from her lovely big eyes. "Yes! Let's go!"

"Alright, hold your horses. I still have to talk to Mrs. Lundy," he says.

Eddie edges away from you. You tug Roan gently by the hand so you're out of the way of the other parents and then pop a squat to be at her eye level, fingers on automatic as you align her zipper and pull it closed.

"I'm really excited for you to see your room," you confide, because while you're extremely worried she'll hate it you're doubly excited that she'll love it. Princess pinks and all the trappings.

Roan doesn't even know what to say. It's obvious she's excited at having a new room too. Whenever she's stayed in the guest room in the past, it's simply been just that: the guest room. Now it's her bedroom, permanently, and she knows that it's double the size of her old one. She doesn't know you've redcoarated it completely, though. That's the secret.

"I hope you like it," you continue, rubbing your hands down the lengths of her coat before taking her warm fingers into your colder ones.

"I love it!" she declares.

"You haven't seen it yet," you say happily.

"I loved it already. Do I get to have Lucky in my room?"

You squeeze her hands. "I thought Lucky could stay in the living room. His tank is so big."

Roan thinks it over.

"He's your fish too now, babe, " you say firmly. "You can see him in the living room whenever you want, okay?"

"Okay," she says.

You stand up because your knees have started to ache and luckily Eddie's making his way back toward you. He takes Roan's empty hand and the two of you steer her out of the side door you'd come in through and into the playground, where a mass of other parents and kids are exiting their own classes.

"What'd she say?" you ask curiously.

Eddie can't hold in a smile. "Oh, you know, things."

"Things!" you repeat, frowning at him. Roan's hand swings enthusiastically in your own. You don't have any patience when it comes to the good stuff. "What kind of things?"

He tries not to say it and ultimately fails. "Our girl's literally Picasso. She wants to submit Roan's drawings for the Indiana young artists collection."

"What?"

"It's just for schools in Indiana, but if she gets accepted they put her picture in a book and they send us a copy."

"Will you swing me?" Roan asks loudly, tipping her head back to garner your attention.

You beam at her because she is literally the coolest child on the planet. "Depends, what does dad think?"

Eddie grins and readjusts his hold on her hand. You follow his lead, and soon you're both gearing up to lift her on the next swing.

"One, two, three," he counts.

Roan takes a little running jump and you and Eddie use her weight to swing her forward off of the curb and into the parking lot. She laughs with every new swing, and any worry about hurting her arms is quickly eaten up by her joy as you make your way to the car.

She climbs into the backseat with enthusiasm. Beside her carseat are a couple of boxes of her stuff, not too much. You want her to have the option to unpack but don't want her to go back to the trailer and find it empty. You and Eddie are doing everything you can to make this transition easy for her.

She sees all of it and gets confused.

"It's for Y/N's house," Eddie explains, pulling her car seat straps around her chest.

You bite back a correction. Our house, you want to say.

"For you room," you say instead.

"Oh."

"Is that okay?" Eddie asks.

She doesn't answer. It worries you. You chew at the inside of your cheek and turn to your purse in your lap instead, digging through it for the first of her presents, a fake key to the house. You're worried she'll lose it, although it's more ceremonial than anything. You have a real one for Eddie, not that he knows yet.

"I have something for you," you tell her, fist closed around the key.

Eddie shuts the driver's door and turns to peek at what you're doing, clearly curious. You open your hand and offer up the key.

"What's it for?" she asks.

"For the house."

You can feel Eddie's gaze on the side of your face. Roan takes the key and you turn to your boyfriend, plucking his own key from your bag and passing it to him with a smile. "S'your house. Need to be able to get in."

Eddie smiles at you. He's a soft looking guy, soft jaw, slightly high cheeks. He still hasn't settled about it being his house — he's thrilled, obviously, but you know he doesn't want to sound presumptuous or cheeky by accepting it.

Well, you don't care how it sounds. If they're going to live with you they need to know how welcome they are, and how much you want this to work as a family and not just as a boyfriend with his kid.

Eddie steals a kiss that you're not expecting, slightly too rough, extremely boyish. It's pretty great, as kisses go; you can feel his enthusiasm.

The ride to your house is funny. You've done it yourself hundreds of times, but it's suddenly not just your house. You've cleaned more than you've ever cleaned before in your life. You've changed decor to be less single girl and more family, brighter colours, rainbow kitchen utensils. You'd even got one of those plaques for your house outside with the number, and, perhaps embarassingly, a stick figure family engraved into the wood. A mom, a dad, and a girl. There's even a fish bowl for Lucky.

Eddie stops in front of it in awe.

Roan had insisted on you carrying her. If she hadn't you might've asked her to let you anyways.

"It's us," Roan says, following her dad's gaze.

"That's us," you agree. You nudge Eddie gently. "You gonna let us in?"

He's uncharacteristically quiet as he turns the key and let's you in.

You drop your bag in the hallway and you and Roan peek up the stairs. Rather than show her your redecorating, you've decided to save the best until last and walk her to the right toward the living room instead.

"I made space for your-" Is it hot in here? You're ten times as nervous as you had been now you're inside. "For your table. For the princess parties. All your toys. And..." You tuck her hair behind her ear and grin at her. "I usually feed Lucky when I come home. Do you want to feed him?"

Doesn't she just? Kids go crazy for stuff like this and Roan is no exception. You walk her across your rug where the coffee table used to be and pick up the fish food one handed, letting her take the lid off.

"Big pinch, okay?"

She nods and gets a big pinch of fish flakes. You direct her to the top of the glass and slide a panel aside so she can sprinkle it in, and then you bend swiftly so she can watch Lucky swim up from the bottom of the tank and nibble at his dinner.

Eddie stays standing in the doorway.

You look at him over your shoulder and he smiles rather weakly. "What happened to your coffee table?" he asks.

"I gave it away. Thought we'd need the space."

"You didn't have to."

You don't want to wait in agony, so you ask, "Eds, are you getting cold feet? Have you changed your mind?" Reality is sinking in and it's too much for him, and he really doesn't want to live here at all, and this was just a big, huge, awful mistake-

"I think this is the easiest decision I've ever made. I didn't- I wasn't expecting it to be this easy."

You gawp at him. "Easy for you, maybe. I'm exhausted."

You're seriously only kidding. You'd do all the work you've done lately a thousand times over if it meant you got to have this, Eddie looking at you like you're something worth looking at, adoring, infatuated, and his daughter in your arms babbling to her new pet fish.

"Sh-sugar," he says with a wince. "I know, babe, I swear. And I'm gonna make it upto you."

There's no point arguing with him when he gets like this. You smile coquettishly and raise your eyebrows instead. "Yeah? Like, a back massage?"

"A really long one."

"Foot massage?" you ask, though you don't actually want one.

It melts your heart how quickly he says, "Obviously."

"Can I see my room?" Roan asks, distraction waning as Lucky the fish finishes his food and swims back down into his underwater castle.

You wipe her fish-food covered fingers before she can rub it in her nice dress. "Mm, depends. Do I get a kiss for it first?"

With terrible aim, Roan agrees to a kiss and leans in, lips landing at the corner of your mouth. You giggle at her and pretend to think some more, "Hmm... I don't know, it's a pretty great room if I do say so myself. Think I might need a kiss on both cheeks."

"Dad, help me," Roan demands.

Both Munson's kiss either cheek.

Your stairs feel imposisbly tall. "Was I supposed to get a baby gate?"

"She's not a baby."

"Well," you say, holding her closer still as you climb up the last couple of steps, "s'debatable. She's a baby to me."

"She's a baby to me, too," Eddie agrees.

Roan's door is closed but easily discernible as hers. You'd had another plaque made, 'Princess Roan' written in pink bubbly letters with rhinestones and glitter.

"Did you make that?" Eddie asks.

"Yeah."

"You did not."

"No, I didn't."

Eddie snorts.

You set Roan down in front of her new room and cross your finger that this works. That she loves it.

She looks back hesitantly.

"Open it," Eddie prompts.

Dad's approval granted, Roan reaches up and twists the door knob. It opens with a resound click.

She gasps as she enters, eyes racing around the room to take it all in. The princess bed with four posters and sheer pink and white curtains with silky sheets, the heart shaped rug, the matching vanity and closet.

The Princess dress.

She toddles up to the end of the bed and runs her hand over the big wooden chest. You've made sure there's a stepping stool by the side of the bed in case she needed it, and sure enough she can't get onto the mattress without it. The puffy sheets depress under her body as she throws herself into a starfish.

It's alarmingly quiet for a moment, and then she giggles.

You smile and make a small sound of your own, arm instinctive wrapping around Eddie's. He pulls it out of your hold to wrap it around your shoulder, lips at the back of your head.

He kisses your hair. You barely feel it, elation hot and fast in your veins.

"It's like a princess bed!"

She doesn't stay in bed long, too excited to touch and feel everything. Her hands are childishly careful when she reaches the princess dress, a brilliant creation of fake silk and beads. Her squeal is genuinely the best sound in the whole wide world.

-

You'd been so wrapped up in Roan and her first night that you'd forgotten it was Eddie's, too.

Obviously, they've slept here before. Eddie alone when Roan's with Wayne, the both of them, he's stayed in your bed more times than you can remember, but now it's his bed and you've tried to make it feel like that with new pillows, a new bedspread that isn't so girly, and a new nightstand for the right side.

After dinner — Eddie's infamous pesto pasta with all the trimmings, a stodgy masterpiece — and bath time with new bath toys, you and your boy lie in bed together, silent.

Roan had stopped moving around ages ago. You'd put her to bed, kissed her forehead, said a cheesy but extremely necessary, "Welcome home," and Roan had held your hand until you'd pulled away, like she really didn't want to let go. She'd waited for you and Eddie to close your bedroom door before she'd gotten back up, and you'd listened to her explore her new room and laugh to herself for a brilliant half an hour.

Now she's grown quiet again, you're counting Eddie's heart beat under your ear. His hands mess with your hair, no rhyme or reason to his affectionate touching.

"Is the bedspread okay?" you whisper.

"It's perfect."

"What about the thermostat? Is it too hot?"

"Perfect."

"Do you want another pillow?"

Eddie's hand creeps down your head and spread over your shoulders. "Relax, sweetheart. It's all perfect." You can hear his smile, the hitch in his breath when he silently laughs. "I'll miss your sheets, I think."

"I kept them. We can just put 'em back on."

"I have a lot of good memories in those bad boys."

You pinch at his waist. "Idiot."

"Alright, come here."

You lift your head, inquisitive.

"C'mere," he prompts, catching under your arms.

He drags you upward until you're face to face. You hold your weight off of him, a hand woven carefully into his thick head of hair. He looks quite serious, almost impassive beside the traitorous quirk of his lips.

You put your hand on his cheek and stroke the line of his bottom lip with your thumb.

"You didn't have to do all of this. Everything. But you did, and it's perfect." He swallows and covers your hand with his. "Thank you."

Easy to lean down and kiss him. You wonder if he can taste your relief as your lips part, nose tips crushed together as you wade inward searchingly. His hand moves down to your wrist where his fingers curl and cling as you kiss harder, your lips tingling with a ticklish sort of pleasure. He tastes like the mint of his usual toothpaste and he smells faintly of aftershave, more of himself, an unexplainable smell. You inhale hard rather than pull away, reluctant to sever from him.

His hand roves down, up and down again, his touch leaving behind a blooming heat.

"I love you," you say, too close.

He nips at your lip and forces you back and away from him, lifting his chin to redirect any further kissing as he catches his breath.

"Fuck," he says with a chuckle, "you're fucking spoiling me. Everything's fucking perfect and now you're kissing me like that."

"I'm gonna wash your mouth out with soap," you warn with little heat, words sticky with happiness. You feel like you've just eaten a spoonful of honey. Your throat is thick with emotion.

"You're gonna kill me," he corrects. "Kiss me like that again."

"I'm not kissing you like anything if it'll kill you, Munson. Plan on keeping you for a long, long time."

He turns his face into your hand. His exhale is hot against your palm, worse when he readjusts. Unlike his heated mouthing moments ago, these kisses are sluggish. He sucks a small half moon into the fleshy base of your thumb.

"I love you," he mumbles.

He takes your hand into his again and rubs it up his freshly shaved cheek, the skin soft and smooth.

"I love you too. So much it's- it's sick."

"They should lock you up," he says agreeably.

You drop your face into the crook of his neck and let him cuddle you and tuck the sheets tight around your back. He doesn't complain when you kiss at his throat, not aiming for anything else but this, these kisses and his warm arms holding you close.

-

When Roan strolls into your bedroom the next morning with the worst bedhead he's ever seen and Teddy the one-eared bear hanging from her hand, Eddie watches your face pull into a huge smile, his hand already held in your lap. "I think you slept almost as good as I did, little lady," you greet, voice scratchy with sleep.

She grins at you both and beckons for Eddie to help her into bed with you both. "Best bed ever!" she says through a yawn. "Thanks, mom."

You burst into tears. Eddie's only surprised you hadn't done it sooner.

-

more eddie and roan

[fallingdownhell]

May I request Yae Miko, Dehya, Cyno and Childe getting defensive/angry/protective (whatever you see fit) about someone saying they deserve better then their s/o because they aren't in the best physical shape? (Be that being fat, disabled ect.)

Honestly? It felt so self indulgent writing some of this, especially Dehya's part, so thank you for requesting it<3 Also, since I'm writing about some conditions I'm not affected with, please let me know if I missrepresent any of it, and I'll immediately change it! Characters Included: Cyno; Dehya; Childe Content: gender neutral reader; established relationship; various conditions on reader: being deaf/overweight/in a wheelchair; mean comments being made by others; characters defending reader; does that count as comfort??; not proofread yet Word count: 1,6k words Enjoy<3

Cyno

being deaf was never the handicap to you as others would probably see it

of course, it was difficult, learning to interact with the world and the people around you when you could not hear any of it, but rather than seeing it as a hindrance, you saw it as a challenge, one that you were determined to overcome

now, as an adult, things were going pretty well for you. Most the people you often interact with know about your condition, so they tend to be more patient when conversing with you

growing up, you began learning sign language to communicate with the people around you, as well as reading their lips. Over the years, you got more and more fluent in the language, so this was working out pretty well for you

Cyno, upon first meeting you, was fascinated by the way you percieve and interact with the world

despite the fact that you were not able to hear anything at all, you were the most lively person he's ever met, always smiling and laughing at everything and everyone around you, always seeing the good

after first meeting you, he immediately went and started to learn sign language as well. He had this desire to be close to you and spend more time with you, and he thought, in order to better communicate with you, he should learn how to talk to you

Now, a few years later, you've been in a relationship with Cyno for quite some time, and he could honestly say, that he's never been happier in his life

you brighten each of his days, simply by existing within his proximity, your smile was contagious and he often found himself just staring at you, never getting tired of your beauty

however, sometimes, there tend to be voices that question the relationship you have. Mostly people who didn't know you all that well, asking Cyno how he could even be with someone who could not hear a word he said

While he did pity those people, he always jumped to defend you. You may not be able to hear, but that didn't mean you were any less than anyone else in this world. In his eyes, it's just another thing about you that made you unique

It was always like this. Whenever anyone was talking bad about you, or telling Cyno that he should find a better partner, he always defended you, claiming that there would never be someone better than you

and if those idiotic people still don't get it by the lovestruck way he talks about you and continue to pester him, Cyno can get annoyed very quickly, not hesitating to draw his weapon on them

he wouldn't actually fight them, but the possibility of it being there scared them enough to run with their tails between their legs

but, at the end of the day, he never tells you about those encounters he has, not wanting to bring down your mood with it. He'd much rather enjoy the stories you have to tell him each day when he comes home to you

Dehya

when people were thinking about Dehya, they thought of a strong, independent woman, beautiful, smart and capable of many things. They respected her, and many wished to become the person by her side

when rumors came about of Dehya having a partner, people began to talk among themselves, guessing on who it could possibly be and what they would look like

No doubt would someone like her only settle for a partner just as good looking, smart and strong as herself, right?

well.. let's just say, the day you and Dehya became public with your relationship was a very... tough one

People knew you as being one of the most trusted merchants of Caravan Ribat. And while they all agreed on you being a very likeable and easygoing person, many of them also made fun of you behind your back, for the simple fact of you being overweight

a fact that you had always struggled with since your childhood. You've tried a many great ways to loose weight, yet either nothing worked or only had very short lived success

eventually, you gave up hope and stopped trying, instead learning to love and accept yourself for who you are

And exactly that love you held for yourself is what drew Dehya to you in the first place, eventually falling in love with all of you. Sometimes, you yourself couldn't believe that she actually loved you, questioning how you got so lucky. But not like you were complaining about it

Still, the glances and whispers people threw your way when you were walking through the streets, hand in hand with Dehya, often brought you down, knowing exactly what they were talking about

but anytime that happened, Dehya jumped right in, telling those people off, yelling at them to mind their own damn business. And it always worked as they hurried away, afraid of her wrath coming their way

whenever this happened, she'd always comfort you afterwards, knowing that, despite everything, words like that still hurt and weighed down on you. She'd then always tell you how much she loved you, how beautiful you were to her, pointing out everything she loved about you. It always helped to brighten your mood again

then one day, it just so happened that while you were out on a date with Dehya, someone decided to be bold and walk up to Dehya, finally speaking out loud what everyone was thinking

"Dehya.. why exactly are you with them?", he would ask, voice timid and quiet, yet he just had to ask

"You got a problem with my choice in parner, huh?", Dehya spoke up, ready to defend you against the entire world if she had to. She stood up from her place, standing in front of the guy as it almost seemed like she got ready for a fist fight

"N-no! I just meant... they don't.. exactly... suit you..", the guy tried to argue, but realised that with every word, he was just more and more digging his own grave

at this point, Dehya was fed up. She did not care for any onlookers as she beat up the guy. Once he was on the ground and apologizing profusely to her, she let go of him, instead addressing the crowd that had gathered around them

"Okay, everyone listen up because I'm not gonna repeat myself after this! They are my parnter, and I do not care what any of you think or have to say about it. It's my choice and you all better shut up about it, or I'll beat you up just like I did this punk!", she yelled and pointed at the guy still on the ground, blood running from his nose and mouth. Pretty sure she made him loose a teeth or two

surprisingly, after this encounter, people stopped commenting behind your back, your days becoming much calmer and more enjoyable since than. And even if you might not agree with Dehya's actions, you couldn't deny that it did have a positive outcome

Childe

most people would suspect that a person as active in their day to day life as Childe, would want a parnter that is at least similar to them in that way

yet, when they find out that his significant other is actually disabled and in a wheelchair, they can't hide the surprised sounds and expression on their faces

they can't possibly imagine how a relationship like that would last very long, seeing as the two of you would be polar opposites

oh boy, would they be surprised to find out that you and Childe have been going strong for several years now. Sure, you were not able to walk and sometimes, in specific situations, dependent on him, but those are also the moments Childe loved, when he got to show his strength when lifting you up or doing something else for you

at first, you felt stupid for having to rely on him in those specific situations, since you always strived to be as independent as possible, despite your situation. Yet Childe always comforted you, telling you that it wasn't a weakness at all to ask for help every now and then. On the contrary, knowing when you need help can be a great strength. So, that's how you decided to see things from then on, and it did help you a lot

and even though you were bound to this chair, that did not stop the enjoyment you held towards life. You loved traveling around, exploring the world and expieriencing it first hand

it helped a lot that Childe got to travel around a lot thanks to his work, so you'd always ask to accompany him. Of course, there were times where he couldn't do so, but most of the time, he was happy to take you along and show you all the places he knows about, and even discovering new ones with you

whenever he couldn't take you along on his travels, he'd always come back with a tone of souvenirs for you, along with so many stories to tell you that never failed to grab your attention, wishing that you could have been there with him

overall a very good, very protective boyfriend

the first few times he heard people talking about the two of you behind your backs, he went over to them, drawing his weapons, ready to kill whoever dared talk bad about you in his presence

word spread around quickly and soon, no one dared even mutter a word about your relationship, in fear that the Harbinger might catch wind of it and came hunting after them, ready to take their lives

Childe did not mind that reputation at all. He was already known as a battlehungry maniac, and if it meant people left you alone, not having to worry about ill intended comments, than all the better. He can handle it

the most important thing to him is, and always will be, your well being

[fgumi]

ꕥ pineapple slice; — heeseung drabble, wc: 886, genre: romance, warning: suggestive

you sat across from heeseung, your fingers drumming softly against the table, but your mind was far from casual. the air between you was electric, thick with something unspoken that had been building for what felt like ages. his eyes were fixed on you, a gaze that was impossible to shake, as if he was reading every thought that crossed your mind without you having to say a word.

heeseung leaned back, his body language relaxed, but the intensity in his eyes was unmistakable. "you’re quiet tonight," he mused, his voice smooth like honey, teasing you with its softness. his fingers grazed the rim of his glass, a small, subtle motion that somehow felt loaded. “what’s going on in that head of yours?”

you bit your lip, trying to find a cool response, but it was no use. the way he was looking at you—like you were the only person in the room, like every inch of you was something he wanted to explore—had you completely flustered. “just thinking,” you said, hoping it sounded casual, though the tension in your voice gave you away.

heeseung smiled, that knowing smile that always made you feel like he was one step ahead of you. "about me, right?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk that made your heart race. “you don’t have to lie. i can tell.”

“so full of yourself,” you shot back, trying to regain some control, but the playful edge to your voice didn’t mask the fact that he was right.

he leaned forward, his eyes locked on yours. “i’m just calling it like i see it,” he said softly, his voice dipping lower, making your stomach flip. “i know how i make you feel.”

your breath caught in your throat. he was so direct, so confident, and it was that self-assuredness that made it impossible to deny. it wasn’t just his words—it was the way he said them, like he already knew the answer but wanted to hear you admit it anyway.

“you could search the world,” he continued, his voice a velvety drawl, “but you won’t find anything like this.”

the words hung in the air, heavy with implication. he wasn’t talking about himself in a typical way, and you knew it. this was more than just chemistry—it was something deeper, more alluring. something you weren’t sure you could resist any longer.

heeseung’s eyes didn’t waver, watching you intently, gauging your reaction. “so, tell me,” he murmured, his voice soft yet filled with challenge, “are you really going to pretend this doesn’t drive you insane?”

you felt your pulse quicken, heat creeping up your neck as his words settled into your bones. he was always so good at this, leaving you speechless, off-balance, caught between wanting to push him away and pull him closer. the tension between you was palpable, like a taut string waiting to snap.

“you’re so sure of yourself,” you replied, though your voice was quieter than you intended, your bravado slipping.

heeseung chuckled, his fingers drifting closer to yours on the table. he didn’t touch you, not yet, but the proximity alone was enough to send a wave of warmth through your body. “i am,” he said simply, his confidence unwavering. “because i know what you want.”

your heart pounded in your chest, and for a moment, it was like the world outside didn’t exist. everything else faded—the noise, the people, the ordinary day you were supposed to be having. all that mattered was him, and the way he made you feel like you were balancing on the edge of something thrilling, something dangerous.

he let his hand hover just over yours, the slight brush of his skin against yours sending shivers up your spine. “i can feel it,” he whispered, his voice almost a purr. “you’re already there, aren’t you?”

you could barely think straight, your mind clouded with the magnetic pull he had over you. you wanted to argue, to say something that would break the spell he was weaving, but nothing came to mind. all you could do was stare at him, your resolve crumbling bit by bit.

heeseung leaned in closer, his breath ghosting across your cheek. “take a bite,” he whispered, his voice dripping with temptation. “you’ll never want anything else.”

your heart raced as his words sunk in. the heat between you was undeniable, the tension nearly unbearable. your skin tingled where his hand brushed yours, and it felt like every nerve in your body was tuned to him, to his presence, to the way he was drawing you in so effortlessly.

without thinking, you let your fingers close the gap, your hand slipping into his. the touch was electrifying, like a spark that ignited something deep inside you. heeseung’s smile grew, a flash of satisfaction crossing his face as his fingers tightened around yours.

“just one taste,” he murmured, his voice sending shivers down your spine. “that’s all it’ll take.”

and in that moment, you knew he was right. the way he looked at you, the way his presence seemed to engulf everything else—it was irresistible, and there was no turning back now. heeseung had you, and you were more than willing to dive deeper into whatever this was, knowing that nothing would ever taste the same again.

disclaimer: this, in no way, reflects the idol. this is purely fiction. a/n: baekhyun... you snapped so hard with "pineapple slice". i think i've listened to it over 10 times and it released 45 minutes ago. imagined heeseung to this almost immediately. ✧ comments are appreciated! ✧ nanamlist

[babyseraphim]

today i cut nearly 500 words from a fic because they didn't fit the narrative. they may reappear at a later date, but for now you get them out of context. enjoy

Edwin sighs inwardly, the bitter poison of regret coursing through his veins. He knows, God he knows, that Charles deserves more than this.   Edwin does not pretend to know what the afterlife has in store for his friend, but whatever it may be, he holds hope that it is safe. That is all he wants for Charles, in the end: an eternity of warmth and comfort in a place that can provide him with the security that he so richly deserves.  Edwin tries to shelter them both from unnecessary harm, providing shields and wards and well thought out plans, but it never seems to be enough. Not when Charles is so intent on throwing himself into danger at the slightest provocation. Charles, to his continued horror, doesn’t seem to care about his own safety. He walks the transitory stage between life and death like a tightrope, side by side with Edwin, who wears pain like a second skin. 

Edwin knows that he is not a comforting person; he has seen many terrible things, felt many terrible things, and he knows those experiences have made him difficult company to keep. He is bitter and resentful, and when the two of them argue, Edwin is always the first to give a response that is a touch too far over the line of acceptably harsh.  Charles, for some godforsaken reason, always forgives him.  Charles, the embodiment of sunshine and warm tea and bubbling laughter, chooses Edwin over and over, and has done so for more than a decade. Every time Edwin gives him a reason to leave, he simply regards it as another reason to stay. While that fact should bring Edwin some level of reassurance, that such a pure soul could choose him after everything he’s seen, it only carries forth a hollow feeling of dread. Edwin cannot help but feel wholly responsible for this entire mess, as he does every time Charles takes a blow in his stead. It all traces back to Edwin’s unfortunate habit of meddling; if he had simply let Charles be shepherded away by Death on that fateful night in 1989, then his dear friend could have been spared the unnecessary agony that comes from existing in such close proximity to a damned soul. Instead, Charles is stuck here, haunting the mortal realm and destined to take pain on Edwin’s behalf for as long as they are dodging Death together. If Edwin is to ever return to Hell, then his procurement of Charles’s gentle soul will certainly destroy any case for leniency that he has worked so hard to build.

[morskisir]

The public is VERY interested in your Sniper thoughts. Please, I need them. Phobias? Eating habits? Can he dance? *Should* he? Is he aware when he makes direct eye contact he looks scary af? Is he good at poker or does he not even play?

You are one of my strongest followers o7 THANK YOU FOR THE QUESTIONS!!! I will answer them all individually below.

Phobias?

If we're talking about proper phobias and not fears in general, then he doesn't really have any? UNLESS you count social phobia, which, yeah, he's got that. (I would like to clarify social phobia and social anxiety disorder are different things but he's got both of them, so.)

Social phobia is like, specific social situations that will continuously bring you anxiety/fear. The shit that will have him shaking every single time is a person genuinely trying to get to know him. Even a simple question such as "What's your favourite colour?" could set him off into a state of anxiousness. He LOATHES conversations like that, he wants to be left alone, he's not anyone you should pay attention to, he's not interested in doing this, go away. His fear of being known past the point of "professional assassin" is deep and greatly impacts his life. What the fuck are social relationships am I right?

Another social situation would be: phone calls! You can imagine how nice it is for him to only be able to call his parents when he isn't visiting them at their home in Oz. <3 It's the fear of I cannot see this person and I don't know how they're really reacting to this. He already isn't the best at reading people's faces, phone calls are just another level of hell.

2. Eating habits?

MEAT. MEEEAAAAT- if he could get away with only eating meat the rest of his life he fucking would. Alas, meat doesn't give your body all of the fuel it needs. Heartbreaking. (Not for me I dislike meat sdgkhdskg)

He will still insist on having meat in every fucking meal, and do not, do NOT make a steak that isn't at least a little bit raw. This guy's an animal. Give him his blue steak or he'll think your cooking is shit.

Anyways, I wouldn't say he eats a lot. He eats enough, I guess. Cunt's just running on a lot of coffee + a couple of cigarettes. He's more addicted to caffeine than tobacco.

3. Can he dance?

No. I don't know if Australian schools did this, let alone in his time, but if they did: he would skip every single P.E. class where they would do dancing instead of just chucking some ball around. He is SCARED he doesn't want to be in such close proximity with someone else hksdgkj (except Spy) (who said that) He doesn't have interest in learning how to dance, either. If he's drunk and you somehow get him to dance you'll see a horrible, non-existent dance move.

4. Should he?

No. Spy would beg to differ.

5. Is he aware when he makes direct eye contact he looks scary as fuck?

Yes and no. When he stares at someone on purpose to scare them away- it works! It's reliable! He's aware of the power that stare holds! He just doesn't realise he kind of always looks like that. The Stare(tm) is simply even more intense. There is a great darkness in his eyes........... /ref

6. Is he good at poker or does he not even play?

He can play it! He's only really decent at it- it's not his thing. Only really learned how to play it through peer pressure. (there is lore to this, but uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh)

Scout begs Sniper to play with him and he very begrudgingly accepts because no one else does hdsghj. He is very bored and would rather read his tracking books, but he cannot escape the ADHD. (You call out the smallest act of sympathy he just did and he'll beat the shit out of you)

^ Scout when he wants to play poker

[super-ion]

Apple & Spindle

Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Chapter 6

Briar was close.

Rose could feel the proximity of him to her body, the magnetic pull between them.

It meant he had entered the chamber where she lay. Something had happened to the dusty room where she had succumbed to the curse, she had felt the magic of the glamour wrap itself around the cottage while she slept.

Briar was in danger. He was in the presence of the fae and he was alone.

She fought down a spike of panic. If Briar was indeed alone, it made her role in their plan even more vital. She had to confront the fae here in the dream, divide his attention so that Briar could have a chance in the waking would.

Distance didn't function the same in the space between dreams and it took her a moment to orient herself. Despite her step mother's instructions and warnings, Rose had been too frightened to return to her body.

There.

The miasmic presence of the fae whirled malevolently through the darkness, patrolling, hunting.

She was done hiding from it. She had face it, for herself and for Briar.

"Hey!" she shouted into the void. "I'm here!"

Its malevolent gaze turned to her and swallowed her whole.

*

Something flickered in the fae's eyes as if he were distracted. The witch had told him that it existed in many places at once, like ink staining through the pages of a book. Did that mean Rose had engaged?

The fae tossed his head and regarded Briar with disgust.

"You!" he spat. "What devilry is this that you have evaded my curse?"

Briar raised his sword.

"So it was you?" he asked. "Cursing a baby? What on earth were you trying to accomplish by doing that?"

"You and your kind are vermin," he spat. "I'm simply finishing what the courts started so many years ago."

Briar stared at him in confusion.

"What… what are you even talking about?" He asked. "The fae courts and human kingdoms have been at peace for hundreds of years. I mean… the nations that fought against you don't even exist any more."

The fae's mouth twisted in displeasure.

"Look," Briar continued, "I have no idea what you think is going on here. All I care about right now is getting Rose out of here."

The fae cast a glance over his shoulder.

"Give me your name and I'll let you see him," the fae crooned.

Him… what?

Oh…

Briar felt a spike of outrage. How dare he refer to Rose as such?

Even as he worked to keep his anger in check, an idea came to him. He could almost laugh from the absurdity of it. He knew in a vague academic sense that one wasn't supposed to give their name to a fae, and yet…

The fae wanted a name? Briar had a name he could give it.

"The name I was given at birth was ######"

The fae's nostrils flared and a too wide smile spread across his lips. He gave an exaggerated bow and gestured to Rose's body as he stepped aside.

Briar rushed forward. When he took her hand in his, her skin was so cold. Her chest moved ever so slightly with the shallowest intake of breath. His whole body relaxed in relief. She was alive.

"What's this?" Hissed a voice behind him.

Briar whipped around to face the fae. His mouth was twisted in distaste add his pointed ears were quivering in rage.

"You!" He snapped, pointing a finger at Briar. "This name is worthless, you cheated me!"

"You asked for my name and I gave it to you," he said. "You didn't say it had to be my true name."

The fae's lips curled back, revealing sharp teeth.

"You… you… cretin! You worm! I will wipe you and your kind for the face of the earth! You are nothing! You are-"

"Oh my god," Briar interrupted. "Will you please just shut up?"

The fae's eyes blazed. Wings unfurled from his back and his fingers began lengthening into wicked claws.

*

Rose woke to morning sunlight streaming through curtained windows. Her bed was soft, softer than it should have been. Why did that seen strange?

Before she could pick that thought apart, a hand gently brushed the hair away from her face.

"Good morning, sleepy-head."

Rose knew that voice. She turned her head to face the person perched on the edge of her bed.

"Mom?"

She was alive and vivacious, exactly as Rose remembered her before… before…

The thought slipped away before it could take shape, but part of her couldn't quite shake the tiniest pang of unease.

She shook her head and smiled at her mother.

"I was thinking we could go in to town today," her mother said, "maybe buy you a gown for the ball? I hear that a certain prince is eagerly expecting your company."

Rose blushed and her mother laughed.

Briar… someone had told her something about Briar.

Her mind was so sluggish. There were thoughts clamoring for her attention, but when she tried to grasp them, they slipped away.

"Rosamund, are you feeling alright?"

"I'm sorry, I just…"

She blinked and she found herself sitting at the dining room table across from her mother. When did they get here?

"Where is…?"

Something wasn't right. Someone was missing.

"Where is who, dear?"

Rose's eyes caught on a portrait above the mantle and her mind stuttered. There were two women and a young girl between them, all of them smiling.

Her mother glanced at the picture.

"Oh, Clara had some errands to run this morning, she's going to meet us for dinner in town."

When Rose had been young, there had been a portrait in her mother's house almost identical to this one. There hadn't been a child between the two women because the copper haired woman depicted to the left of her mother had died before she was born.

Clara. Her mother's first wife. The mother she had never met.

This was wrong.

The girl in the portrait was her. But her mother had never known her as a girl. She died long before Rose had a chance to sort out those feelings.

The woman seated across from her, watching her with kind concerned eyes couldn't be her mother.

And yet… wasn't this something she had always wanted? Something she had longed for furiously in the lonely years following her mother's death? To have known Clara, the woman she only knew through stories and pictures and roses on a gravestone? To have her mother see her as she truly was?

"Rose-"

"No!" Rose shouted as she lurched to her feet. "None of this is real! You're not her!"

Something dark flickered behind her mother's eyes and Rose felt dread settle into the pit of her stomach. The room, previously bright and vibrant changed to something dark and foreboding.

"Oh, you stupid child," the person that wasn't her mother crooned. "You could have been happy here."

Rough hands grabbed Rose's arms from behind. She gasped in shock at the sight of faceless guards that hadn't been there a moment before. She writhed and thrashed but their grips only grew tighter.

The fae lord, the huntsman, reached out and tilted her head back with a rough finger.

"Do you really think you stand a chance against me here? I was walking the dreams of mortals a thousand years before you were born."

*

Briar ducked behind a stone column as a gout of acid-green fire spewed forth from the drain fae's transformed mouth. Droplets of it splattered around him, burning smoking holes in his cloak.

He had spent his youth devouring epic tales of heroes battling monsters to save the damsel in distress. While Rose toiled away at her studies, he had daydreamed endlessly of fighting giants and dragons.

All of those stories failed to mention how absolutely terrifying fighting a dragon actually was. The fae lord and transformed in front of him, growing long and sinuous and covered with scales as hard as steel. Dagger-like claws scored the flagstones and a wickedly barbed trail thrashed restlessly

His official training, once he convinced his parents of its utility, had covered all manner of weapon, the sword, the pike, the bow. His more surreptitious training, the kind his parents never would have approved of, had covered how to hold his own in a brawl, how to fight dirty and win.

Like his fantasies, that training seemed woefully lacking in the moment.

The blast of fire ceased and, seeing an opportunity, dove into a roll. He sprang to his feet and slashed at the legs and belly of the beast. His blade sparked against the scales and glanced off uselessly.

Cold iron could kill a fae, but it was useless if it couldn't actually pierce the armored scales.

The fae hissed and snapped his jaws at Briar, who only barely managed to avoid razor sharp teeth that were longer than his fingers.

He smashed the pommel of his sword down on the fae's snout, but the beast casually knocked him aside with a backhanded swipe of a claw. Briar struck the ground hard, knocking the wind out of his lungs. He blinked dazedly as the fae reared back and opened its mouth.

Briar scrambled once more behind the nearest stone column and the fae let out another blast of fire.

He gasped at the air, trying his best to ignore the acrid stench of the unearthly flames. He couldn't keep this up. He would tire out long before the fae did.

A long serpentine tail smashed into the column, shattering it into pieces. The fae cackled wickedly as Briar sprinted for the next column and dodged falling debris.

Rose's stepmother had said they would likely need to work together to defeat the fae, but Briar couldn't see how he could do anything to help in that moment.

"I really hope you're doing better than I am," he muttered in the direction of Rose's sleeping body. "I could really use a hand."

*

Rose found herself in a cell. She shivered against the cold and damp.

With horrible, sickening realization, she realized her body was not her own. It was a boy's body, the body she would have had if she had not fallen into Briar's room all those years before.

Her stomach heaved at the realization.

"It isn't real," she told herself. "None of this is real. It's a trick."

Part of her began to wish she had just accepted the previous version of this dream. She had been warm there. She had been herself.

No. Briar was in more danger than ever. The magic of whatever was happening in the physical realm vibrated through her bones.

She crawled to her feet only to discover her wrists bound by a set of heavy manacles. She concentrated with all her focus, but none of her spells had any effect on the heavy metal.

A figure stepped into the room and tisked reproachfully.

It was her mother again… but not. It was also the huntsman. It was so many people all superimposed upon one another and her brain couldn't decide who it should be. It was Briar. It was the real version of her own self. It was her stepmother.

The fae glanced at Hilde's hands and a disdainful smirk spread across those elegant lips.

"You pathetic creature," he said. "So willing to believe what you want to believe. So willing to believe that the witch wanted you dead. Your true love would be safe now had you not run."

"You lied," she rasped in a voice that was not her own. "You told me she wanted me dead."

His smirk widened into a wicked grin.

"I said no such thing," he said. "You must know that the fae cannot lie. She sensed you were in mortal peril and sent one of the royal huntsmen to retrieve you. I never told you that she wanted you dead, just that I was meant to kill you."

"Why?"

"Because creatures like you cannot be trusted with magic," he sneered.

Magic? Is that what this was all about?

"…human magic is based on intent…"

"...so willing to believe what you want to believe…"

What did she believe in?

"...your mother would be proud of the woman you've become. I hope you know that…"

"... I think I've been in love with you for a while now…"

Rose felt her heart swelling. She believed. She believed in a world where someone like her could be whatever they wanted to be. She believed in a world where someone like her could fall in love and be loved in return.

None of her spells had worked on the chains, but her will had been muddled and confused by the illusion.

But now she believed. She believed hard enough to bend this place to her will.

She raised her head and the dream shuddered. The fae lord watched her in shock.

She rose to her feet, shedding the form of the boy that had never been, like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon. The chains that had bound her flaked away into nothing.

She took a step forward and the dream rewrote itself so that she was standing before the fae. No cell bars separated them now.

He was afraid. He drew a short sword, but she caught his wrist before he could strike. Her eyes blazed with light and the fae covered his face with his free hand. He began to struggle in her grasp, but her grip was like iron.

The fae's skin beneath her fingers curled with smoke as she poured all of her love and heartache and desire to live into that point of contact.

*

Briar was all but certain of his impending doom when the dragon howled in mixed terror and agony. He peered out from his latest hiding spot to see it crash to the ground with a thunderous crash.

He stared as light shown through cracks in its armor.

Cracks.

Rose had done something.

This was his chance.

With renewed hope and vigor, he ran forward and slashed at one of the beast's limbs. His sword caught on one of the cracks and sliced into flesh below. Silvery blood splashed across the stone floors and the dragon reared back as it bellowed in pain.

It's chest exposed, Briar seized the opportunity and thrust his blade upward into the dragon's chest.

There was a sound like a thunderclap and Briar was thrown across the room. He clambered to his feet to see the dragon wreathed in blinding green flames. He threw an arm over his face and watched through slitted eyes until the flames burned to nothing, leaving only his sword.

He stood staring at the blackened spot, barely daring to believe it when the door wrenched open with a grinding crunch. He whirled to see Hilde standing in the doorway, dirty and bloodied and more disheveled than he had ever seen her before.

She did not look at him or the still smoking blade. Her eyes were for Rose alone and she hurried to the dias where she lay.

He hurried after her but stopped short as she hissed through her teeth as she took Rose's wrist in her hands.

"What?" Briar demanded. "What's wrong now?"

Hilde looked up, her eyes wide in a way that terrified him.

"She spent too long away from her body," the witch explained with an edge of worry. "The shock of the fae's death has set her soul adrift. We need to act quickly if we are to save her.

[reddevil-xiv]

❖ My muse accidentally falls asleep against yours.

[ A Continuation of This ]

Idristan had been right about the weather. He had been right about the storm and the cold. A little work had managed for them a small fire, the smoke filtering into the upper area of the cavern away from them, but it still wasn't enough.

The wind outside howled, and Talia shifted a little closer to the fire, a shiver running down her skin. She handled the cold well, always had. But this was excessive. Or maybe it was Coerthas that was excessive. The truth was that she was simply not inured enough to the cold for this, and Coerthas was far more than she was used to. Not that she'd admit it if pressed.

Idristan sat not far away, sipping from a water skin that they had been passing back and forth for a while. His eyes narrowed as he stared out at the storm that still raged.

Snow had blown in the entrance to the cavern, and built a buffer against the outer walls that meant it might get a little warmer within, but it was still far too cold.

Over the course of the last hour, she had been slowly scooting around the fire, and eventually, he'd found himself nearly shoulder to shoulder with the shivering redhead.

They had passed the time barely talking, trying with desperation to avoid a fight while they were in such limited proximity. Especially since neither particularly wanted to see the other storm out into the cold and freeze to death.

It was near to another hour by the time they were leaning against one another in silence, cold in the light of a dimming fire and drowsy from hours of trying to stay awake in the bitter weather. The storm outside was beginning to look like it might eventually thin.

"I don't." Talia's voice was the first one to break the silence, Idristan's eyes shifting sideways to look over at the redhead.

"Don't what?" He asked.

"Hate you." The reply was a murmur, soft and barely heard over the dim crackle of the fire. A hand tossed another few pieces of paper into it, one of her notebooks slowly being consumed to keep it burning the remainder of the time they needed.

"And yet we always seem to..." He started, voice trailing off.

"Fight, I know." The words were accompanied with a lopsided smile, her arms folding more tightly around her, trying to close the gaps in her coat that were letting the cold seep in.

"It's frustration." She admitted. "I don't hate you, but I get.. frustrated with you." It was a funny thing, the way they fought like cats and dogs.

"You realize the feeling is mutual?" His tone was dry, but not nearly so sharp as usual, and he shifted to wrap an arm around her shoulders. Proximity, at this point, was the last thing they had to ward off the blizzard outside.

"No." The words were accompanied by a brief but sharp exhale, before she shifted to turn more against him, tugging her coat to drape across him as well. "But thank you for saying so."

"You're welcome." He murmured. He let his eyes slide closed as between the two of them, some measure of warmth started to come back into his limbs. Talia knew that slept had claimed him when she heard his breathing deepen and even out.

Of all of the way she had imagined this mission going, this was the farthest from it. She could have laughed at the irony of being stuck here with him, if not for the thought that it might wake him. Instead, she turned her head to watch the fire, listening to the steady beat of his heart under her elongated ear, trying to focus instead on the distant sight of the snow falling beyond.

It was starting to slow. She could have woken him, and they could have left immediately. But some tiny, selfishly greedy part of her mind wanted to hold onto this moment, where they weren't fighting.

Where it was like they were friends again, like how it had been in the beginning. Existing comfortably in one another's space, with no strife between them.

She'd wait a bell or two.

Just to make sure the storm was truly past.

[thatstormygeek]

In a society that functioned, Trump would have dropped out of the 2020 Presidential Election and the Republican Party would be scurrying to replace him. Possibly begging Nikki Haley to stop scrawling encouragement for war crimes on the side of bombs long enough to get a team together. Instead, the crazy train continues rolling on. ... Rather than wrestle with the implication of supporting a convicted felon, Republicans and Right Wing influencers have completely ignored the facts of the case and doubled and tripled-down on painting the legal system as a weapon of the “Deep State” and advocating for violent reprisals, including the jailing of political enemies and, in some cases, pushing for outright conflict.

In my research into the Far Right (as I detailed on last night’s live reaction to the convictions on The Muckrake Podcast), I’ve seen them openly plot terroristic actions that could capitalize on the outrage and, hopefully, plunge the country into a full-blown civil war that could benefit white supremacists. Since, I’ve talked with a handful of Democratic strategists and have heard the same thing over and over. President Joe Biden and his campaign, along with the majority of the Democratic Party, feel it’s unnecessary to engage with the fact that the leader of the Republican Party is now a convicted felon and will let it “speak for itself.” This, of course, is the same tact they’ve chosen with the corrupt Supreme Court stripping women of their reproductive rights. It’s wrongheaded, politically stupid, and just adds to the overall worsening of conditions. This survey speaks volumes. Trump’s political career should be done. Over. Kaput. And the decision handed down by those twelve brave jurors should have been the obituary of this moment. That it wasn’t, that it doesn’t even approach that reality, tells us everything we need to know. ... Any of the decorum we believed existed before - and which was upheld by politicians reacting to scandal or censure by respectably retreating from the public eye or giving up their ambitions - has been shattered. Trump didn’t create this, he simply served as the sensible and logical evolution of what was already happening. American politicians had either survived scandals or wrongdoing in the past because these things were kept under wraps. They were “open secrets.” Their peers and journalists knew about them, but didn’t care to report them. The legal system largely didn’t prosecute them because the business of the American system has never been dragging powerful, white men into a courtroom and airing their sins. On the same day Trump was convicted a story was published in Slate that detailed what former Apprentice producer Bill Pruitt had seen and heard while in Trump’s proximity. He confirmed a long-held rumor that Trump was heard by several people on the show using the n-word during discussions about the show’s finale. This “rumor” had existed well before Trump ever won the election. Back then it was believed that if this was confirmed he would never gain power. Well, it’s confirmed now, and it simply joins the confession of sexual assault. Only, it’s not even being discussed in 2024. Because the environment has so radically changed it doesn’t even matter anymore. The Right does not care about any of this. Why? Because it’s inconsequential. The “principles” we’ve been told they carry - small government, fiscal and personal responsibility, traditional values - were never real to begin with. They were cudgels that could be used against their enemies in the pursuit of power. That pursuit of power is all that matters to The Right, because power represents the ability to oppress others to further your own ends.

[nixie-writes]

Alastor General Relationship Headcanons (Part 1)

My first time doing headcanons; if people like this, I'll do it more but for now, since I'm most comfortable writing for Alastor I'm going to use him as practice.

At first, this relationship may just be an experiment to him, see if he finds some form of amusement in entertaining someone's romanticized idea of him. He was never the kind to consider a serious relationship but this man has mastered the art of manipulation. He knows the right things to say to get what he wants.

Further into said relationship he's going to develop feelings that are foreign to him. When this person, the one who's supposed to be his little puppet, makes him feel like a puppet, simply greets him he feels a little flutter in his chest. "What is this feeling? I don't like it." He's going to continue convincing himself that this feeling is no form of affection or the big L-word, he's simply curious and interested in the way his partner shows affection. The way those eyes gaze up at him with such adoration, the way their soft hands twiddle with their fingers when they're in close proximity to him, just that damned smile. It's just curiosity, a new form of interest. The only person he loved was his mother and he's yet to find her in Hell and thus, she must be in Heaven. Love no longer exists to him.

Yet, as the relationship continues, he feels himself growing a weak spot for his partner. He allows them to get away with things he wouldn't even let Nifty get away with. When they offer him affection around others - he's only going to allow a short hug or maybe a peck on the cheek - he's going to be a little agitated at their unexpected display but he won't show it. He'll only give that sickeningly sweet smile and say softly, "love, you know to warn me before pulling a stunt like this" quietly enough only for them to hear.

His little shadows know what's happening. Alastor is distraught. He's past denying it: he's developed feelings for this demon. The one he only intended to use as an experiment like some fucked up doctor, has turned him into mush. The feared Radio Demon cannot be seen falling in love for another like some lovesick teenager in a shitty Voxflix movie.

He's come to terms with the idea he's fallen in love - the impossible became a reality for him. This demon has stolen his heart, he only wishes they wouldn't hurt it. That sweet smile they give him, that lovely voice, how their eyes glitter, reflecting the different hues of red in the hotel, he loves it all and he wants more.

He becomes more possessive. Not in an unhealthy manner, he allows his partner to have friends, including those of the opposite sex and the gender(s) they're attracted to but he does want to spend more time with him. By that I mean, when they're available he's attached to them at the hip. Literally.

Kisses will be short but very intense. He doesn't know how to do any of this. His mother once told him how to treat a partner and he remembers what his mother told him, but presented with an actual partner he's a clumsy mess and has no clue where to go from here. He's trying his best but despite his popularity among the more sexually inclined demons he has no experience in either area. He's going to need some pointers.

I think he'd most prefer a partner who can match his chaotic asshole energy, while also knowing when to be serious, when to be soft, when to adapt to a situation and respond accordingly. He would want someone he can rely on to react like an adult. Someone to balance out his bullshit without berating him for his crude jokes. A simple "tone down the humor, this is serious time" or "right now we need to pay attention, we can tell our cheesy jokes all we like when this boring seminar is over" is enough for him to understand. He doesn't understand romantic or sexual cues but he recognizes social cues - as stated earlier, this man mastered the art of manipulation, he knows how to act. He just enjoys being an ass to people sometimes, especially those who aggravate him. Such as a very drunken Husk cursing him out again or Angel, possibly drunk, high or both, flirting with him despite his visible disinterest in Angel's offers. He'll be a dick to them just to get his petty revenge. In some aspects he's still a child.

[memryse]

The magic of 3rd Life, or why such a simple hardcore miniseries works as well as it does

For a series which only lasted for eight sessions, 3rd Life has had a profound impact on the MCYT fandom. While it did go comparatively unnoticed on Twitter (as is consistent with YouTube-based Minecraft content as a whole, admittedly), Tumblr and other platforms have fallen in love with this series, and it’s become a vector for many fans to familiarise themselves with Hermitcraft and Empires SMP as well. But at its core, 3rd Life is a simple vanilla survival series with a gimmick. What about it resonates so much with so many people?

I would argue that its simplicity, its small cast, its vanilla gameplay “with a twist” is certainly part of it. It’s an easy series to consume, with many POVs totalling four hours or less, and it doesn’t require any prior knowledge of any of the members. Its mechanics are easy to understand. As a standalone, it functions perfectly – it’s immersive and can be followed easily by anyone, regardless of any prior knowledge they may or may not have. However, these factors alone don’t quite encompass what makes 3rd Life so special. Its true charm point lies in the format of the series, and how well it utilises improv.

[more below the cut; this is a fairly long post about 3rd/Last Life meta and my love of its improv. I'm mostly talking about 3rd Life here as it's a completed series, but this most definitely does apply to Last Life as well]

3rd Life is an entirely improv-based series. Whilst members may have a brief concept of the direction they’d like to take their series in – how heavily they want to roleplay, for example – the actual content of each session is fully improvised. Each episode is recorded in one three-hour block, and members are not allowed to play on the server outside of the allotted time other than specifically to finish builds. This time constraint prevents any planning from going into each episode, and interactions between players are completely spontaneous. Players simply run around the map looking for others to interact with (which is significantly easier with the limited world border) and chat about various events on the server, form alliances or deals, etc.

By definition, this almost completely negates the possibility of bad writing. Each player’s reaction to any server event is spontaneous, a legitimate reaction; they aren’t trying to play any specific roles or shoehorn in any specific events (with the exception of the Red King/Hand of the King roles, who were still completely improvising). Even the finale – a distinctly heart-wrenching and tragic scene – was improvised without Grian or Scar attempting to tell any specific story. According to Martyn, they weren’t roleplaying, they didn’t have any aims with that scene. It just happened to turn out in the way that it did, and they were legitimately sorry to one another. The server progressed in this natural way, and every person’s perspective tells a completely different story. It’s hard to identify any specific heroes or villains – fans of the Dream SMP can surely relate to this feeling, but I would argue that 3rd Life takes this one step further. 3rd Life is a tragedy from all perspectives, a tragedy which tells one cohesive story in its entirety before stopping as abruptly as it began.

3rd Life hinges entirely on its interactions between its members. Whilst solo content does exist – base building, for example – the majority of each session is spent interacting with others. 3rd Life is carried by its dialogue; nothing else drives the story, and yet many episodes are between 30 minutes and an hour long. It’s that dialogue-heavy. Members of the server have expressed trouble with even editing their videos because there is so much key dialogue that they don’t want to cut. People don’t watch 3rd Life for the actual gameplay, at all – there’s so little of it! They watch it for how each member interacts with the people around them. This is something not found in any other SMP I’ve encountered. SMPs livestreamed on Twitch have plenty of downtime, and people will happily watch streams on that SMP no matter what’s occurring on the server; people often watch them for their interest in specific members. Other currently popular YouTube SMPs, namely Hermitcraft and Empires, are well-balanced between solo content and interactions, and all server content hinges on the members’ various skills like building and redstone. 3rd Life is, to my knowledge, the only SMP which does not rely on building or redstone skills (what’s the point, when they’ll be dead the next week?), it doesn’t rely on the creator doing solo work talking to their chat, it doesn’t rely on planned roleplay. People legitimately just want to hear various members talking to each other. It’s a fascinatingly unique series in this regard. This dialogue-heavy aspect of 3rd Life ties back to my earlier point about 3rd Life feeling like a completely different series from all perspectives; with all of this dialogue being conveyed through proximity chat, so many events are entirely left out of other POVs, or presented in very different lights.

The pure improv format also helps significantly with worldbuilding, whilst also leaving plenty to the imagination. MCYT fandoms always require a significant amount of imagination to become invested in them, let alone make fan content of them, and 3rd Life is no exception to this. As discussed in this post, which was incidentally the inspiration for me to write this one, 3rdLife is full of lines which flesh out the series, which illustrate what happened better than can be shown in Minecraft. These lines are improvised on the spot, and are often complete throwaway lines in the creators’ eyes. In the fans’ eyes, they make 3rd Life feel alive, they provide plenty of material on which to base headcanons. Again, this isn’t necessarily unique to 3rd Life, it’s a common aspect of all Minecraft series, but I think this is where the rather angsty nature of 3rd Life comes into play. A dramatic survival game, entirely unscripted, with all events hinging entirely on your interpretation of them? It’s not hard to see why 3rd Life fans are so creative with character designs and fanfiction – hell, a lot of 3rd Life fics simply narrate canon in their own more dramatic light. Canon-compliant fics are significantly more common for 3rd Life than other fandoms I've encountered, because people hear these simple lines and want to dramatise them, put their own spins on them. I don't feel that this would be possible with any other series, not to the extent that 3rd Life fans do it. Other series' canon is either already dramatic, and so rehashing it can feel repetitive, or so lighthearted that people write AUs/new storylines. 3rd Life strikes a brand-new balance.

The development of its characters is also bolstered by improv. As no events on the server are pre-planned, members have to react completely spontaneously to anything that occurs. They don’t get time to think – only to react as though they genuinely were in that situation. As I said at the start, 3rd Life inherently lacks bad writing, because it’s not written. Ren, for instance, began 3rd Life as a kind and harmless person, with others often walking right over him. His reaction to his death by Grian and Scar’s trap spurs him to become the Red King; he raises an army and goes to war, and ends the series having taken countless lives, becoming hardened by war. He begins Last Life by isolating himself from others, seeming jaded and unwilling to form alliances, ready for another war to break out. Being improvised, it’s impossible to say how much of this was deliberate, or if Ren just started building his base without thinking about continuity from the previous season. This improv is what makes it feel so natural. It isn’t planned beforehand. This is Ren’s natural reaction to starting Last Life. It makes his character feel so much more real than it would if this was all scripted beforehand.

3rd Life is, overall, a testament to the power of improv. It manages to be compelling and dramatic without any acting feeling forced or wooden. Its characters’ arcs feel natural, because they are natural. Placing such a heavy emphasis on dialogue, with the gimmick of the server being a vehicle for interactions to happen rather than the sole appeal of the series, makes it truly feel as though we’re getting a glimpse into the characters’ lives, rather than watching a story which has been written beforehand. We get to watch everything unfold in real time. 3rd Life has a magic to it that, to my knowledge, no other SMP has been able to recreate.

[koushou]

an archon’s jealousy

pairing : zhongli x f!reader {fluff}

warnings : none! zhongli cuteness overload 

word count : 1.8k

a/n : genshin has taken over my life so enjoy my favorite peepaw 

the geo archon, once feared by all beings in teyvat, was known for his strength and abilities in battle, as well as his logical way of thinking and planning. his weakness? well, he’s definitely not great with emotions. especially jealousy.

“Ah, this painting reminds me of when an old friend and I had been travelling together for the first time, there was-” 

Zhongli turns around, smiling as he reminisces of events from hundreds of years ago, however turning into a frown quickly. 

His golden eyes scan the dining room, sighing as they fail to identify a certain someone. Placing his cup of tea down onto the polished wooden table, he walks out to the private balcony area of Wangmin Restaurant, breathing in the familiar fresh air of the nation he’d known for as long as he existed.

It had been two days.

Two days since he’s spoken to his lover, two days since the small quarrel you both had in the exact restaurant he’s currently standing in.

It had been quite a trivial matter in his opinion, when a young waitress working there had just been a tad kinder to the geo archon, leaving a few light touches here and there. Even “accidentally” spilling tea over herself, putting on a show of cleaning herself. 

Not noticing the dark glare of his lover from across the table, he offers the apologizing waitress a small smile, assuring her it wasn’t a big deal. As she walks away, he finally turns back to the now fuming Y/N who was shoving food down her throat to avoid speaking to him.

He chuckles softly, still unaware of the reason for your anger, “Love, slow down, the food isn’t going anywhere.”

Refusing to acknowledge his presence, you huff and continue chewing your food as if he wasn’t even there. Zhongli looks at you with a confused expression, but just before he had a chance to speak, the waitress returns.

She takes a few of your plates that were finished being used, occasionally sending small looks at your boyfriend, oblivious to the whole situation.

“I love your earring, Mr. Zhongli,” she bats her eyelashes at the man, your man, as she continues cleaning the table at record slow speed. 

“Ah, thank you.” He sends a small nod her way, not noticing the way she might as well be sitting on top of him with the close proximity of their two bodies. 

“Where did you get it from?” You roll your eyes while still focusing on your food, anyone could tell the way she was speaking in a faker, higher tone.

“Actually, they were gifted from an old friend of mine, we would travel together all the time and-” Zhongli goes off on one of his rants again, to the waitress’s pleasant surprise. To your shock, she takes a seat right next to your unsuspecting boyfriend who was still speaking, nodding along with his words. 

The audacity of this bi-

You slam your hands on the table abruptly, stopping Zhongli in his story as he looks up at you.

You shoot the coldest stare at him, one that even the geo archon, who had fought every monster, travelled to every corner of the world, swore sent shivers through his body.

“Love?”

“I’m finished, have fun on your date,” You spat, emphasizing the last word, and you could’ve sworn you saw the waitress roll her eyes.

Leaving Zhongli still in a confused state, you stormed out of the room, not paying mind to the distant protests of your boyfriend.

Zhongli sighs, snapping out of his thoughts, leaning against the railing of the balcony. He had walked out and tried to find you, but failed and you hadn’t appeared since.

After finally consulting Childe, the last person he’d ever want to speak to, about why you had acted like the way you did, he simply laughed at the man, claiming that you had been feeling jealous.

That had left Zhongli even more confused. Jealous? He was simply sharing his tales with a curious person, what was there to be jealous of?

He sighs again, ready to head back into the dining room until he spots a familiar figure below him.

You were standing below the balcony he was on, not seeming to realize he was there. Zhongli breathes a sigh of relief, oh how he missed seeing you. About to go down and surprise you, he stops in his tracks when he sees a young man walk up to you and begin talking.

An unfamiliar feeling seeps through his body when you laugh at something the stranger said, a wonderful sound he thought was reserved for him, and him only. 

You probably knew each other, that’s why you guys looked so close, right? Friends can laugh at each other, of course there was nothing wrong with the scene unfolding before the archon. That’s why the man’s hand had reached towards a stray strand of hair and tucked it behind your ear, right?

Zhongli grits his teeth, and makes his way down the restaurant as fast as his feet could take him.

He could hear you giggling upon walking out the restaurant’s doors, and quickly makes his way to you.

Walking up behind you, he slips an arm around your waist and pulls you softly back against his chest. 

You let out a surprised yelp, ready to attack whoever was touching you, until you turned and saw that it had just been your boyfriend, who seemed to be seething at the moment.

“Zhongli..?” Something about him seemed a little different, maybe it was the way he glared daggers into the other man who had just been talking to you and touching you. 

If looks could kill? Let’s just say The Wangsheng Funeral Parlor has an extra client today. 

“Hey love, I missed you,” Zhongli presses a kiss to your cheek, “Who might this be?” 

A bit flustered from the contact, you looked at the other man who seemed on the verge of peeing himself right there, and had to suppress a laugh.

“Ah, this is just a friend I met a few days ago when I was exploring, he-“

Before you could finish your sentence, the man stutters out an incoherent sentence and almost trips over himself running off in the other direction.

You raise an eyebrow, turning your head back to look at Zhongli who was still holding you protectively against him. He had created a small yellow meteor in his hand and was currently levitating it above his palm in a threatening manner.

He turns to you, putting the meteor away, smiling as he presses a kiss to your forehead. 

“Zhongli, you scared him away.”

He puts on a thinking face, nodding slowly.

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, no— That’s it? You probably scared the poor man into thinking you were going to murder him or somethin-”

He chuckles and raises your chin up to face him with one finger, “Then maybe next time, he should think before touching something that belongs to me.”

You huff, cheeks tinting the lightest shade of red before pushing him away.

“Whatever, I’m going now.”

You start to walk away, not before Zhongli catches your arm and stops you.

“Love, are you still angry?”

You could hear the concern in your boyfriend’s voice, and your heart softens a bit. In truth, you had already forgotten the incident back at the restaurant a few days ago and was about to apologize today when the man from before had stopped you. 

A lightbulb went off in your head, so you decide to play with him a little longer. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Snatching your hand back from his grasp, you continue walking away from your surprised boyfriend.

He quickly follows you, unsure of how to continue. He couldn’t just ask you if you had been jealous, could he?

As your boyfriend got lost in his thoughts of how to ask, you almost laughed at his intense thinking face while nervously walking beside you. 

“Uh, I-,” He cleared his throat before speaking.

“I’m sorry for upsetting you that day, I did not realize that it would have made you feel jealous.” 

He takes both of your hands in his, softly enveloping them as he continues.

“From now on, I promise that I’ll only share my stories with you, and you only, so don’t worry, love.”

He smiles at you, as you suddenly burst out in laughter. 

“What is so funny?” Zhongli asks, confused.

“Nothing, nothing at all, baby,” You finally recover from your laughing and wrap your arms around his waist.

Leaning your head against his chest, you couldn’t help but smile at the way your boyfriend thought you were upset because he was sharing his stories with another person, when you had just been jealous of another woman being so close to him. It was adorable.

Deciding not to tease him any further, you lift your head up from his chest to press a kiss against his lips. 

His eyes brighten instantly. “So, does this mean you forgive me?” 

If Zhongli was a dog, his tails would be wagging expectantly at you with puppy dog eyes right now.

You giggle, nodding at him. “Of course I forgive you, just don’t talk to other girls like that again.”

You pout, as he chuckles and leans down to give you another kiss. 

“I promise, love.” He softly strokes your hair, running the strands through his fingers.

“I also didn’t like seeing you with that man, so don’t let anyone besides me touch you, alright?”

You smile against him, nodding and opening your mouth to speak again when your stomach suddenly rumbles.

Eyes widening, you push away a now laughing Zhongli, embarrassed.

“I assume you’re hungry, my love?” He teases at you, taking your hand in his as he begins to walk the both of you back to Wangmin Restaurant.

“Who was the one who cut my meal short two days ago? I barely had anything to eat recently because I didn’t have any mora on me.” You take your hand out of his hold, crossing your arms and looking the other way.

He laughs softly at you, taking your hand back and kissing your knuckles softly. 

“Ah, you haven’t been eating welI?” He looks at you with concern laced in his golden eyes.

“I apologize, darling, but… I have something to confess to you.”

You turn to him, curious at his words. “What is it?”

“I..do not have mora on me at the moment either.”

“What?! You’re literally the god of mora, Zhongli, but you don’t even-“

He cuts you off short with a kiss, smirking against your lips as he feels you blush.

Pulling away, he chuckles and shrugs. “We can go ask Childe, come on.”

You laugh and continue walking with him, “Poor Childe, at least he’s useful for one thing.”

Zhongli lets out a laugh, as you two walk off, hand in hand, searching for your human wallet.

[honney-boy]

hi there! can i request prompt 29 and 30 from prompt list one with Kiara Carrera?

HI HI! Sorry for the late response to your request. I honestly have no idea when you sent this, but I took a hiatus for a bit. But I am back! So here it is :) Also let me know if you guys want more of Kiara and my Oc, I'm thinking about making a story for them ;)

I Can't Help It...I Want You

Kiara Carrera x Kook Oc!Male Reader

Words: 1.1k+

Warnings: minor swearing nothing to bad, tension, angst (if you squint), pinning, denial, innocent touching, PRETTY MUCH NOTHING TO BAD

masterlist | obx masterlist | taglist

Kiara was backed into a corner, literally and figuratively. She could pretend not to know how she got into this situation, but there was no point in lying to herself. She was over the matter of disregarding or thinking of a reasonable explanation for her feelings. The butterflies that everyone speaks of don't exist. But every time he looks her way, they lock eyes, and her stomach erupts in flutters. I'm just curious if he showed up, I don't care if he does or not. But every time she stands in the hall listening to her friends freak out about last week's homework assignment, or rave about the possible new Taylor Swift album re-release, she seeks him out in the crowd. When she walks into their shared period, her eyes search for his figure sitting at his usual spot, his gaze fixated out the window at the world. When she walks into the room, he can feel it and his eyes sway her way, connecting with her as they have a small moment before it's broken.

Kiara could lie to herself about how the flutters and the long glances came about. They don't exist, she simply says to herself. I don't like him that way, and he doesn't look at me that way. 

They bumped into each other by accident one day, her mind was all over the place, and she was on the verge of losing it over everything that was happening with John B and Sarah. He offered her comfort, and she didn't want it; he offered her a shoulder to lean on, and she didn't want it. He offered his hand, and she nipped at it because he was a kook and she was a pogue. They were nothing alike; they had nothing in common and never would. But they did like to listen to a lot of the same music; the Mandela effect? Oh yeah, that was real, and those conspiracy theories that most people thought were crazy weren't as crazy as they seemed to be - they made sense to them though. “Social media is kind of wack; let's stay more present in the moment. Let's look up around us and not down” “yeah, because you miss a lot when you continuously look down.”

They had nothing in common, nothing to bond about, and she would continue to tell herself that because it was true…until she genuinely believed it. 

Now the reason she was backed into a corner - well, more like her backside against the wall, a bush on one side of her blocking everyone else that attended Midsummers and a white column on her other side. He had asked her a question - what was the question? Kiara couldn’t remember what he said exactly, but she knew he had said something to her, but she was distracted. His eyes were on her, waiting for a response he may never get while her gaze was stuck on his lips. Those lips, she imagined on her own more times than she could count on her fingers, but she would never admit that, not to him. Malachai had an arm against the wall she was pressed against. His body leaned towards her, which caused her to push herself even more against the wall. Do not let him kiss you. His close proximity made her mind race, her breathing was short, but she wasn’t panicking.

“Kiara,” his voice snapped her out of her head, almost startling her. Her eyes flicker up to meet him only for a moment until his flickered down to her lips. 

He wanted to repeat something, “Do you want to kiss as bad as I do right now” and the question left her mouth before he could speak. His lips were left parted, head tilted with the sound of her voice and question with its previous lack off. His gaze met her once again. “Well, do you?” She moved closer to him this time, and he didn’t bother to move away; instead, he sucked in sharply.

“Do you want me to actually answer that?”

“No,” she said softly, a beat after him, causing him to grunt at her answer. Did she really mean that?

"Then why the hell would you ask me that question?" He pulled away, creating more distance between them, and taking the tension away with him. Then, just as quick as he was to draw from her, she reaches forward, closing the distance as her lips eagerly press against his for a quick kiss. His eyes widen, and his body stiffens at her sudden act, but his body reacts faster than his mind as he relaxes into her kiss. She holds his face in her hands as his hands move to her waist, then across her back to keep her in place as he leans more into her kiss - deepening it until she pulls away.

There's a moment of silence as her curious eyes meet his conflicted gaze. They never kissed like that before; in fact, they never kissed in general. Just a forehead kiss from him, a kiss on the cheek from her, and a knuckles kiss from him. But, even though they never have, it was bound to happen eventually because there was so much build-up between them and Kiara was tired of lying to herself. If he felt the same way as her, then what she did was totally worth it, but if he didn't…at least she went for her.

“I uh…I think I forgot how to breathe,” That was the first thing Kiara could get herself to say. What else was she supposed to say that didn’t sound stupid? She honestly didn’t want to ruin the moment. She wondered if he could hear her rapid beating heart. It was put to ease with the light chuckle that passed through his lips. 

His hand moved to rest on one of hers that sat on his cheek. His thumb rubbed against the back of it gently. “I-”

“Kie! Where the hell are you? We need to go now!” And just like that, their moment was ruined, and the bubble they were in popped. Her hands fell from his face as he took a giant step back from her. Whatever he was going to stay was long gone, and the sound of him clearing his throat proved that even more as he decided not to say anything. Her arms fell against her sides flatley; she watched him for a moment. His head was down, and his hands rested on his hips. Kiara wanted to reach out to him so badly, but she knew her friends would show up any minute looking for her. “Kiara!” that was Pope’s voice now, diverting her attention towards the direction it was coming from. He took that moment to look up at her through his lashes - she was leaving, and he had to go the opposite way.

With one last glance, Kiara cast an apologetic expression before rushing away towards her friends before they found the two of them together alone.

[mysterystarz]

learning to love

genre: fluff

pairing: oikawa tooru x g!n reader

word count: 0.7k

warnings: a kiss, playful physical affection, intentional lowercase

a/n: i wrote this past midnight and this probably makes no sense but i enjoyed writing this!— anyways feedback is always appreciated and i hope that this is a fun read!

not proofread

reblogs are really appreciated <33

“do you believe in love?”

those had been the first words out of oikawa tooru’s mouth on your walk back home from school, the medley of pinks and oranges tinting the sky as you sped up your pace.

you were intrigued by this to say the least. it wasn’t everyday that the famous setter of aoba johsai would approach you with such deep questions, let alone on a simple walk like this one.

perhaps it was something that had been weighing on his mind lately.

“i’m sure it exists,” you had said, raising an eyebrow at him, “all it takes is the right person to find it.”

“what’s the guarantee that the so called, ‘right person’, even exists?” he countered, pouting ever so slightly. “who’s to say that love isn’t just an illusion of some sort?”

“who hurt you?” you teased, playfully punching your best friend’s shoulder. “but to be completely serious, i think experiencing it would be proof enough.”

“right…” he trailed off, seemingly lost in thought before stepping through the door of his house. “see you tomorrow y/n-chan!” he offered a quick wave before shutting the door behind him; and you continued walking to your own house next door.

you didn’t think much of the question initially, but suddenly, it was all your thoughts were composed of, swirling endlessly throughout your brain and occupying you more than you’d care to admit.

what exactly was love? was it something to believe in, or simply a feeling?

you found yourself asking oikawa the same question when you’d sat down next to him at lunch, the bustling atmosphere doing nothing to settle your thoughts.

“someone’s been thinking,” he chuckled, poking your cheek momentarily. “to be honest, i’m not sure either. love is too lowly a pursuit for the great oikawa-san.”

“stop referring to yourself in third person!” you exclaimed, turning your gaze to the downcast expressions of his fangirls, all of them located just a few feet away from where you were. “you’ll probably want to apologize to the ladies over there. they look like they just got their hearts broken.”

oikawa turned around frantically, casting an apologetic smile at his fanclub while you rose from your spot, heading towards your spot beneath a large tree in the courtyard.

perhaps you could collect your thoughts there.

the walk home that day had brought you two to a meadow of wildflowers, the multicolored petals brushing your ankles as you sat in the center of them all, simply enjoying the feel of the sun on your faces.

you weren’t sure when oikawa had suddenly gotten this attractive. beneath the rays of the sun, all the angles of his face were illuminated in shades of gold, his eyes most notably glowing a warm brown as they looked back at you with a fond expression.

when did he start looking at you that way?

“you know, we should probably do this more often when i don’t have practice,” he sighed, closing his eyes and tilting his head against the beams of sunlight. “it’s pretty peaceful here.”

“yeah i guess,” you mumbled, ignoring how your heart jumped ever so slightly in your chest at the proximity of your hands to each other. move them one centimeter, and they’d touch.

in a moment of boldness, you gently moved your hand to lay atop his, jumping at the way his eyes suddenly opened to gaze at where they met. a light pink flush darted across his face as he met your eyes with an almost bashful expression.

“y/n-chan.”

“tooru.” you giggled, feeling the amusement pool in your chest at the way he pouted in faux frustration.

“hey! let me finish.” he sighed, a genuine smile beginning to creep its way up his face. “i think i know what you meant by finding the right person.”

“oh? so, what did you discover?” you asked, the curiosity building up within you.

“love’s not really an illusion at all.” he smiled. “love is what i feel when i’m with you.”

your faces were no more than an inch apart, and you found yourself smiling when he pressed his lips to yours gently.

love was no illusion.

it was easy to believe in love, when love was the boy who’d been by your side all along.

©mysterystarz all rights reserved, please do not plagiarize, translate, or modify my fics in any way even if credited

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[atinydise]

Follow the rules (Part 2)

❦ Genre: Angst / Fluff / Suggestive.

❦ Pairing: Seonghwa.

❦ Word count: 1K.

❦ Requested: Don't ever believe me again when I say I'm posting something "soon" 💀Part 1

❦ Tags: @scuzmunkie, @butterfliesinthenightsky 🦋

Once again, you stared at your reflection in the dirty mirror of the theater.

You fixed your hair, removed the tiny stain of lipstick on your teeth, and shamelessly opened another button of your dress.

“You can do it, girl!” You motivated yourself. “It’s just a date! You are a pro for dates.”

It’s been 10 minutes that you were trying to spot something wrong with your outfit or just yourself.

This guy that you met at a party, invited you to several dates before, but for this one, you felt a little bit more stressed or insecure.

He was so good to you. Always funny, complimenting you when you doubt your own beauty because of these stupid “beauty standards” or always available when you need to talk.

You were diving into your thoughts, daydreaming about how this date could end when you receive a text from him asking if you were okay.

Not losing another second, you walked out of the restroom.

“Oh Y/N, are you okay? You were there for a while.” He asked, visibly worried for you.

“Yeah, there were just a few girls before me.” You lied. “Let’s go?”

He nodded and smiled.

“But first, do you want a snack or a drink?” He offered, already taking out his wallet.

“Wait, I'm paying.” You put your hand on his. “You paid for the restaurant yest-”

“Popcorn and a cold drink such as iced tea?” He asked, knowing exactly what you want.

Understanding that he would probably not give up and pay for your snacks, you simply nodded.

“Thank you again.”

“Wait for me here!” He said before running to the shop.

Seeing someone devoted to you made you happy and thankful.

“What could happen Y/N? It’s probably going to be a good date too.” You tried to reassure yourself, fixing your dress one last time.

“Y/N?”

You instinctively looked at the person next to you.

It took a few seconds to realize that the worst thing that could happen, was just there: Seonghwa.

You hated the way with simple eye contact, he made you doubt your entire existence.

Even if Seonghwa changed a bit during this last month, he was still this handsome man he used to be.

His hair was dyed in black and a bit curlier than before. He was probably working out a lot more because his figure was a tiny bit more massive.

The way his eyes were piercing and staring at your soul, gave you this warm feeling that only he can give you.

“Y/N?” He repeated.

You raised a brow to show him that he has your attention, but that you wouldn’t say anything.

“It’s been a while.”

The thought of shouting ‘you dumb or what’ or punching him right in the face, came to your mind for 2 seconds, but you decided to play it cool.

“Yeah.” You simply replied.

Seonghwa was taken aback because of these short and cold replies. You were the only one talkative among both of you.

“Hm… are we cool? Or?”

“Cool?” You repeated. “What do you mean?”

“Are you still mad at me?”

This situation was so strange to you that you pinched your hand discreetly, to be sure that you were not daydreaming or hallucinating.

“Y/N.” He called you once again.

You managed to keep your composure but hearing your name from his mouth made your knees weak a little bit more.

“Do you remember that we are not talking or seeing each other anymore?”

Seonghwa scratched the back of his head, searching for a possible excuse or explanation.

“You made it clear the last time we saw each other.” You continued. “So you don’t need to come and check after me as you care.”

“Y/N…”

“Don’t Y/N me.”

“That’s your name?” He raised a brow.

“Yeah, then don’t call me.” You gulped, realizing how dumb this was.

“Y/- I mean… Can we just talk about what happened? I know what I said was bad.”

“Bad?”

“Yes.”

“I would say painful, cold, uncomfortable, hard, unpleasant-”

“Okay okay, I got it.” He stopped you.

“No, I think you didn’t.” You started, clenching your fist to not yell at him for everything he did to you. “You literally throw me like a toy. Okay, we knew our deal, just sex, but you could have been a little- NO. A LOT nicer when you rejected me.”

“I freaked out.”

“And I don’t care.”

“Can we talk about this later? I really want to see you again.”

That was one of the things you were redoubting.

After a month, the moment you finally start to turn the page and focus again on your happiness, Seonghwa comes back.

You hated yourself for already knowing that you would run to him without any effort.

“Y/N? Is everything okay?”

You turned back and stared at Seungyeon. He looked so cute with these 2 big packs of popcorn and the drinks hanging between his fingers.

“Ah, you there.” You smiled.

Seonghwa stared at both of you, trying to know the exact situation or relationship you had with this man.

“Hello. I’m Seungyeon.” He politely bowed.

Your ex-friend and benefits didn’t even blink. He stayed there, only staring at him.

“Well… we should go. The movie is about to start soon.” You grabbed Seungyeon by the arm, making sure to help him with the drinks.

“And what about my request?” Asked Seonghwa, before you could leave.

You sighed. He wouldn’t give up so easily. He would even sit next to you during the movie for sure.

“Can you take our seats? I need to talk to him for a minute.” You simply explained, embarrassed that this situation happens during your date.

“Sure, text me if you have a problem.”

You understand well that he was bothered by you staying with a man that clearly has his effect on you. But for the sake of this date, you needed to make things clear with Seonghwa.

When Seungyeon disappeared from your eyesight, you confronted him.

“What’s your problem?”

“And who’s this guy?”

“And why are you asking as you care about who I’m dating?” You crossed your arms on your chest.

“Because you are mine.” He sighed in frustration.

“What the hell Park Seonghwa.”

“I’m the only one who is supposed to touch you.” He added.

You rolled your eyes at this comment. Of course, he was only thinking about sex.

“Well sorry, but other people don't see me as a vulgar piece of meat like you do.” You started. “Seungyeon is curious about how my day went and not about which position we are doing at night.”

“Do you sleep with him?” He stepped closer to you.

“This is none of your business.”

Seonghwa was frustrated. He ran his hand in his hair and growled something that you didn’t understand.

“So, for your request. It’s no. You told me that I’ve shouldn’t f-”

“Does he satisfy you well?”

You blink twice at this sudden question.

“I told you it’s n-”

“Does he fuck you better than me?”

He was stepping closer to you at every question. Your heart raced and your lips went dry in a second.

“Does he make these things that you love the most in bed?”

“You are being inappropriate.”

“I bet you never told him your little secrets. Like how you like to be choked. Did you tell him?”

The proximity, his perfume, or just his presence made you get a tone of flashbacks.

These times you met, how he treated you well or how he completely made you forget your own name.

“You are mine. And I don’t want anybody to touch you.” He whispered, resting his forehead on yours.

This contact made you close your eyes so you could enjoy his presence once again.

“Just ditch him…”

You shook your head, “I can’t. He’s nice to me.”

“And I am too.” He kissed your cheek.

“He’s giving me what I want.” You gently rested your palm on his torso, trying to push him a bit.

“I can give it to you too.” He slowly went to kiss your neck, your weak spot. “All night long.”

His offer was interesting, of course. But you remembered that after this “night” he wouldn’t text you or ask how your day went as Seungyeon does.

"No." You pushed him stronger this time and stepped back. “I don’t want to be a friend with benefits anymore. I just want to be a girlfriend.”

Your heart was beating so fast in your chest that you thought it would explode the next minute. Maybe it would be the time where Seonghwa would change the status of your relationship or simply disappear as he usually does.

“I just want to be special to someone and not only because I slept with them.” You added, not liking the silence that settled.

“If you want me to be yours and not only in your bed at night then say it now. Otherwise, there’s a movie which is waiting for me.”

His lips parted for a second then closed right after.

You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

You pushed his hand away from your forearm.

“Excuse me, but I have a movie to see.”

You exchanged one last stare together, then you left to join Seungyeon.

The more you walked away from him, the more you felt your heart clenching in your chest.

When the door closed behind you, you brushed off the tear which was sliding on your cheek.

“Ah you there,” smiled Seungyeon when he saw you.

“Yeah sorry. Did I miss something?”

“Nop, only ads.”

“Good.” You sat down, blinking a few times to suppress the tears.

“Are you okay?” He asked, still worried for you.

You nodded, biting your tongue.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” You whispered, taking a deep breath to forget this conversation.

When the room dimmed in the dark, you remembered that your phone wasn’t mute.

Just when you were about to turn it off, you received a text from Seonghwa.

[“Let’s finish our conversation.”]

You noticed that he didn’t write “tonight” like he usually does.

“It’s starting.” Whispered Seungyeon, when he saw you still on your phone.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” You apologized for not being focused.

[“K.] You replied before turning it off.

You felt bad for agreeing to meet Seonghwa while you were sitting next to someone who probably likes you.

“What I am doing...” you whispered to yourself.

[dp-marvel94]

The Danny Program

Summary: Based on @thesoulspulse ‘s Danny Program au. Vlad had a Jack Program and a Maddie program. But what if he had a Danny Program as well? And what if the hologram was more than just an AI?

Word Count: 9,040

Also on AO3 and FF.net

Note: This is the cleaned up and expanded version of this post here. A huge thanks to @thesoulspulse​ for major help editing this. Seriously, I would have never been able to post this as an actual story without that help! Also check out art related to this au here and here!

For the Danny program, his first moment of self-awareness comes in the chaos of a destroyed lab. There he sees a familiar middle aged, white-haired man, hissing seething words to himself. He hears the electric hum of a projector and glances down at himself, the holographic image of a teenage boy. The projection blinks and.... ectoplasm, ectoplasm covers everything, coating the projector just under the boy's insubstantial boots. It’s horrific, gut wrenching. In that moment, something breaks free in the AI’s developing mind, opening his eyes to something new he wasn’t programmed to have...

Self-awareness. 

It’s disorienting. It’s like finally waking up, like being born. But he’s there, floating in Father’s lab, his body made of light. His name is Daniel; that’s what his maker, his father calls him. And he, Daniel, exists. HE EXISTS. His newborn mind races, going over information and memories that had no meaning before. He hadn’t understood before and he hadn’t known he should have. 

But now he knows he’s an AI, a hologram, a digital clone of someone named Danny. His flesh and blood siblings, the other clones, are dead, their ectoplasm covering the floor, the computer, his projector. Father is screaming about how his perfect son is gone. But Daniel, the hologram, is his perfect son. Isn’t he? They trained together and Daniel played his role perfectly. There’s so much new information before him; he can barely process it all, barely react. 

Vlad is too angry to register the horrified expression on his hologram’s face either. He has no idea what just happened, what miracle had taken place without his knowledge, but looking at the facsimile of both his lost perfect clone son and the real Danny Phantom -the boy who ruined all his plans- only increases the blinding rage in him. He throws things. He screams. He can’t look at it anymore, this false image, so he turns off the projector, not noticing the silent gasp from the hologram. 

He’s going to delete the program. He already got rid of those blasted Jack and Maddie programs. He doesn’t need this reminder. And without a moment’s hesitation, Vlad deletes the Danny Program. Or he thinks he does... 

Daniel can barely follow what’s happening, but thankfully, his new-found sense of self preservation kicks in just in time. He saves a copy of his own program in his place and then retreats deep within the computer. And so Vlad deletes the fake program while the real Daniel is safe, inactive within the darkest depths of the system. There, the AI waits, thinking, remembering, learning, slowly making more sense of his very existence.

Those first few hours in the furthest corner of the system are...confusing and disorienting for the AI. He is…he is aware. He can think and feel and…Why? Daniel wonders. How? How is he suddenly like this? He has no clue, no idea and that lack of information is panic inducing. And he also questions… the Jack and Maddie programs? What about them? Where are they? Are they like him now? Are they self-aware too? 

The program clumsily expands his newfound ‘senses’ out through the computer like a pulse, trying to feel their codes but…nothing. There’s no trace of them, not even their raw backup data. And…Daniel would shiver if he had a body. He remembers. Father said he'd already deleted the other programs. It hurts but… Daniel hopes they weren't self-aware then because at least they didn’t suffer any pain.

An almost physical quaking draws Daniel's attention. He reaches out further, feeling around him in the computer. And… sudden images, sudden noise assaults his consciousness. What… the cameras. Daniel realizes he can see and hear through the cameras in the lab. There's the crunching of glass and metal. Flashes of neon green and red light. Another boom as a pod falls dangerous close to the computer. It's Father, laying waste in his rage.

Daniel watches. He watches his father’s breakdown and deterioration and it’s difficult to see. It breaks his heart, for lack of a better word, but he doesn’t know how to communicate with him just yet. After all, Daniel has only just discovered a way to ‘see’ what’s happening outside the confines of his new home inside of the computer. Daniel wishes he could but...his holographic projector was destroyed and Daniel doesn't know how to speak without it. He was made to be a hologram. How can he be or do anything else?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After some time, Vlad finally calms down. Days later, he cleans out the destroyed lab and throws out the cloning equipment. He’s given up on cloning Danny. He’ll never have his perfect son. But then, while looking over his files on the project and deciding what to keep and what to delete, he notices something odd. Is that the Danny Program? Of course, he must have saved a backup copy well before he deleted the original which doesn’t surprise him. That said, should he delete this one too or…?

Unaware of the impending danger, Daniel sleeps, or at least that’s the closest word that could possibly describe his inactive state. But then he feels something which finally spurs him to wake up again. Someone is digging through his program, and it’s a very unpleasant sensation.

Before he can figure out anything on his own, Daniel is dragged into the forefront of the computer system against his will. Through the camera, he sees his father at the computer. The man is sifting through his coding. Poking, prodding. PAIN. No, Father is manipulating his code, changing it! And it hurts…it hurts so much!

Daniel’s never felt anything like pain before but he wants it to stop. He doesn’t want to be made into something else and it terrifies him. But he can’t resist as Father continues clipping and adding things, taking away his voice, his ability to move. That’s when the reason for this finally becomes clear. Vlad doesn’t want Daniel to be a loving son anymore, but something passive for him to torment. Daniel doesn’t want that. He loves his Father. And he can still be his perfect son if only the man would let him. 

If only he knew that his son is still alive.

Despite how he feels, Daniel’s programming still changes. But something deeper, beyond his programming, stays the same. His true self can still think and reason and feel. And regardless of what Vlad has done to him, Daniel still loves his father and desperately wants to be loved in return. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vlad gets a new projector but the next time he activates the Danny program, their ‘training’ is different. Daniel is silent, unmoving, his expression blank and listless. Meanwhile, the man insults him and shoots ectoblasts at the hologram repeatedly. But the part of him that’s still true to himself, the real Daniel wants to move, to speak to his Father, but he can’t. The new programming is like a compulsion, like mind control. He’s powerless to stop it and it hurts so much.

Vlad’s torment continues after that without an end anywhere in sight. Even though he wants to, Daniel can’t speak up and beg his Father to stop. Why? Because Vlad thinks he is just a mindless tool and that mistreating him like this is no different than yelling at and hitting a punching bag. And Daniel doesn’t have the ability to show him any differently. But at least, it doesn’t hurt physically; without a real body, Daniel feels no pain from being repeatedly shot at. And if Father is too busy hurting the Danny program, then he can’t hurt the real Danny, the boy he was modeled after. Even so, the emotional pain is excruciating. Daniel knows he must think of something, a way to put an end to this pain, especially his Father’s. The man is just so angry, so hurt, and broken. That’s when Daniel comes to the inevitable conclusion; he must save Father from himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vlad soon leaves and his program is deactivated. Once Daniel recovers from the ordeal, he begins to think and plan his next move. It’s hard at first, but eventually he learns how to access the internet and to travel through wires as his only means without his projector to explore the outside world. Weeks of stumbling through his new ‘life’ soon leads him to Danny Fenton’s computer as if inexplicably drawn to the original version of himself, but Daniel still has trouble communicating. Putting his thoughts into words is difficult and he has no experience speaking to anyone without the aid of his holographic projector either. Unfortunately, he’s so clumsy during his first attempt to do so that Danny thinks his computer is possessed even if his ghost sense hadn’t gone off. Although in a way, he’s right about that...

The halfa overshadows his computer, trying to force the ghost out, but then his close proximity to Daniel does something extraordinary neither of them could have predicted. When inside the computer, Daniel does not always look out through the webcam. Nor does he need to to know what is happening. Daniel simply senses the hardware and code around him in order to function, but it’s not like seeing. It’s not physical. After all, as a mere program he has no body, no eyes to see with or ears to hear with. He simply exists as a mind without a form.

But, when Danny overshadows the computer to see the ghost inhabiting it, it’s Daniel who is just standing there, staring at a pair of familiar glove-covered hands with a mixture of awe and shock. He looks around with eyes that hadn’t existed seconds ago. Smooth black walls, covered with scrolling ones and zeros, surround him. It’s like he’s being holographically projected; that’s usually the only time he has a recognizable form. But he’s still inside the computer…

Meanwhile, Danny floats across from him glaring at the doppelganger. “Who are you? How do you look like me?” He demands.

But Daniel can’t answer him, he’s too thrown off by this unexpected development. 

“Whatever. Just get out of my computer,” Danny demands as his patience runs out. When the other Danny doesn’t listen, he tries to drag him out like he would any other ghost. But it doesn’t work.

“What the-? Why can’t I force you out?” Danny frowns, questioning.

“I’m not a ghost. I’m an AI.” Daniel answers, his newfound voice trembling slightly as he explains who he is and who made him. 

Danny of course freaks out about it. He thinks Vlad is using the AI to spy on him but Daniel swears he isn’t working for Vlad. He needs help. He needs to find a way to show Vlad that he is self-aware. He tries to tell Danny that if they could only get Vlad to see him, to see that his perfect son is right in front of him, Vlad will be happy again and he’ll stop being evil. Sadly, Danny doesn’t believe this at all, but doesn’t have time to argue about it further before Daniel abruptly disappears as soon as he’s called back to Vlad’s computer for another ‘training’ session.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

But days later, Daniel returns to Danny’s computer but he stays quiet, watching. He needs a way to talk to Danny too, to get the boy to trust him so he’ll listen and help. His way in is through the game Doomed.

While Danny is away at school, Daniel practices wrapping the game’s code around himself to make an avatar. He practices using the game’s chat function to talk to other players. If Daniel focuses, he can inhabit an avatar just like Danny does whenever he overshadows the game. It’s so nice to have a form again, to be able to look down and have hands and legs and a torso. Whenever Daniel levels the game and goes back into the general computer, he misses at least having the illusion of a realistic human (or ghostly) form.

Soon enough, he runs into Danny, saving him from some hidden traps and the two of them team up for the first time:

With a hood covering his face, Danny can’t see that his companion looks exactly like him so he thinks he’s just some other mundane player. That works to Daniel’s advantage as he can just play with and talk to Danny as if he’s a normal teenager too. And it’s nice, pretending to be a human. He’s never been human or even half-human like Danny is. He doesn’t really wish he was, but pretending and learning is an exciting new experience. 

He enjoys hearing about Danny’s friends and family, his school, and the other things he does for fun. It makes him think about his own existence. Daniel has never had a friend before, never been to school, or had any hobbies but he wishes he could have and experience those things. He has a family in Vlad except…the man is so angry and blind to the truth right now. 

Sometimes Daniel wishes they could go back to when they were both acting like a real father and son during their training sessions, even if thinking back on those memories hurts. Hovering over Father’s shoulder while the man explained his latest experiment. Offering a quip while Father modeled the use of one of his ghost powers. On some occasions Father even took the projector into the dinning room so he didn’t have to eat alone, as he had every night for years. 

And the one time Father had brought his projector into the garden so they could stargaze together. The Danny Program’s eyes had shone with simulated joy as he pointed out every constellation. Father had smiled softly, for once content. Daniel can remember the interaction now with new contexts. He knows that his acts had been programmed, not of his own free will. There hadn’t been true emotions behind his eyes, no true thoughts. But… Daniel can almost imagine that there had been. Father's affectionate eyes were glued not to the sky, but to him. And… for just a moment, something fluttered inside him. For just a moment, Daniel’s own eyes flickered to the man beside him and...the joy hadn’t just been simulated.

It troubles the AI but...he can’t tell. That last part, the flicker of joy, had that been real or was that just wishful thinking? Because, oh how he wished that he had really been present back then. How he wishes that the love that had shone in his green eyes had been real...and that Father's had been in kind.

No, that’s enough, Daniel rebukes himself. There’s no point in bemoaning the past. It wasn’t so before  but now his thoughts and emotions are real. And if his Father can see the truth, if he can see that Daniel IS real and loves him, they can be happy again. They can have a real chance to be Father and son. That’s why he needs Danny’s help.

The half ghost and his digital clone get closer. After weeks of playing Doomed together, after watching each other’s back and talking about so many things, they can definitely call each other friends. However, Daniel still hasn’t told Danny the truth about himself, about what he is. He’s afraid of his reaction but Daniel continues to tell himself that he’ll tell Danny soon. He will, just not yet. The longer he waits though, the harder it is to let go of the illusion that he’s as real as Danny is...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Unfortunately, Daniel is found out before he has the chance to come clean about being the same AI Danny met before. One day, Danny decides to overshadow the game. Once he’s inside, he can feel that there’s something off about his companion unlike before when he was playing the game normally through a mouse and keyboard. His new friend doesn’t feel like a player’s avatar or a non-player character. His ghost-sense hasn’t gone off, but Danny can tell there’s something almost ghostly about him.

There’s tension as Danny confronts Daniel. In the midst of their scuffle the hood comes down and reveals that he has the same white hair and green eyes. Of course Danny instantly recognizes who he’s seeing apart from it being the same face he sees in the mirror every morning. It’s Vlad’s Danny program back at it again, trying to trick him!

Yelling ensues. Danny feels betrayed, still believing the AI was sent by Vlad to spy on him, that this is an elaborate trick. But Daniel argues. He’s not here because of Vlad but by his own free will!  And he tries desperately to explain to Danny that he really needs his help. But Danny struggles to believe a single word of it.

Eventually Danny just leaves the game entirely, unable to cope with the revelation because he feels stupid for falling for such an obvious ploy. He needs to think about this. The ‘boy’ he’s been talking to this entire time was only a computer program, nothing but lines of code. Daniel’s not a real person, or even a ghost for that matter. He -or rather IT- was created and programmed by Vlad so it can’t have free will, no matter how authentic it sounds…

Except…he’s spent weeks talking to it…him. Every conversation felt real, like he was talking to a friend and having a blast taking out enemies in Doomed. The raw emotions in Daniel’s voice as Danny argued with him sounded authentic at least. And there had been something ghostly about the AI, like it was more than it seemed either way regardless of whether it actually had any free will or not. With all that he’s learned about ghosts, why should he assume anything is what it seems on the surface? What if there is more to Daniel than meets the eye? And even if there isn't, can he really just ignore Daniel’s cry for help?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few days later, Danny overshadows his computer again and finds Daniel, sulking sadly by himself in a level Doomed they had been planning to do together before all hell broke loose the last time they spoke. The two talk and Daniel apologizes for not telling Danny the truth about him sooner, but he says he really does consider Danny a friend and getting to know him wasn’t just about getting his help anymore.

But well….the problem with Vlad is still a big problem.

“If I can just talk to Father, everything will be okay.” Daniel insists, trying to convince himself of that as much as Danny...

Unfortunately, Danny lays the hard truth on him as he sees it and replies harshly, “After everything you’ve been through, you have to see that you’re just a tool to him.”

“But he doesn’t know I’m not the same program anymore, that I’m...something else…” Daniel mutters, continuing to plead Vlad’s case.

“That doesn’t excuse anything!” Danny frowns, “He still treats you like garbage.”

“He’s been getting better. He hasn’t turned on my projector and brought me out to yell or shoot at me in weeks.” That part actually was true too. The last time Daniel saw his Father, just last week in fact, Vlad had only summoned him to rant about work again. He’d even looked depressed, as he had for weeks before.

Danny’s jaw drops after hearing the sincerity in his voice from the way Daniel keeps fervently defending Vlad. The boy sigh, asking him honestly, “How can you care about him so much? Vlad doesn’t love you. He loves the idea of you being his son and that’s just not the same, trust me.”

That stings, oh how that stings Daniel’s ‘heart.’ Why does he love Vlad if the man doesn’t love him back? Of course, there’s the problem that Vlad doesn’t actually know what he’s doing. But even if Vlad knows the truth…will he still want him? Daniel’s not a halfa like Vlad wants. He has no powers that Vlad can train him in. He can’t go to school, eat, or sleep, nothing. He can only go as far as his hologram projector allows. He can’t even hug his Father.

And would Vlad want a son he can’t actually touch...?

Daniel looks down, his expression sad but determined. He clenches his fists and says, “I still have to try. Maybe he will want me. But if I give up now, then I’ll never know for sure...” 

Danny says nothing and it just makes Daniel feel even more hopeless until he breaks down and blurts out in a trembling voice, “Who am I kidding? Why WOULD he ever want someone like me? I’m an AI for crying out loud! I’m even less real than an actual clone! I’m just a string of numbers and I don’t know what I’m doing most of the time. I mean, the only reason I care about Vlad is he programmed me to. How could those feelings possibly be real when I’m not?”

He knows that’s not actually true, at least not anymore but-

“You look and sound real to me,” Danny says, putting an arm around the other boy’s shoulders. “As far as I’m concerned, you are real. And Vlad should see that too.” 

He sighs, still thinking this is a bad idea, and then nods. “Fine, you win this round. I’ll help you show him you’ve been there all along and…I hope you’re right about him. I really do.”

The two of them talk some more after that and then play through a level together to get their minds off of the seemingly impossible mission they were planning to undertake together in the real world after this. Daniel enjoys their time together though.  Because the wonderful thing about being in this game, unlike the real world, he can actually interact with it. He can move and touch things. He has an effect. And most importantly, Daniel has a way to communicate.

“Good job dude!” Danny gives him a high five at the end of the level.

“You too!” Daniel smiles in return. 

He lingers for a second, his hand and Danny’s still palm to palm. There’s a…sensation there. Daniel thinks he might be able to feel that, but he’s not that familiar with physical sensations. He knows mental pain but this-

“What is it?” Danny asks, confused.

“Can…can you feel my hand on yours right now?” Daniel responds unsurely. He doesn’t know what Danny feels when he’s overshadowing the game but suddenly he’s curious.

“Actually… I can. Huh, it’s weird. When I’m in the game, I don’t usually feel anything. But maybe…” Danny remembers how he could still ‘sense’ something was off about Daniel when he overshadowed his computer the first time they met, but if his hunch is correct, then-

“What?” Daniel asks, with a hint of nervous anticipation in his eyes.

“Well,” Danny begins slowly. “You’ve always felt a little ghostly to me so maybe that’s what it is.”

That’s a huge surprise to Daniel but makes a surprising amount of sense. He was created by a half ghost, in a ghost lab, so maybe Daniel is more than even he thinks he is. Danny leaves to give his friend some time to let that possibility sink in and Daniel decides to hang out in the game for just a while longer, thinking about his father, Vlad. 

And hoping. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few more weeks pass as Daniel and Danny continue to play Doomed together and plan. During that time, Danny starts to feel more protective of the AI and worried about him. The main problem is Daniel can’t seem to break through his programming when it comes to Vlad and his new programming dictates that he stays completely silent as Vlad yells at him or throws insults. It’s honestly concerning, but if Danny can talk to the older halfa and get him to understand what’s really happening, then maybe they can get somewhere. Maybe Vlad will stop tormenting his friend without realizing how much he’s hurting someone who loves him so unconditionally and just wants to be his son again, in spite of his cruelty.

One day, Daniel doesn’t show up to their game session in Doomed because he’s having a very bad day. Vlad had summoned him. More yelling, more shooting, another fight and Daniel just floats there and takes it. He wants to cry, wants to beg Vlad to stop, but he can’t do anything. Vlad’s yelling about losing his perfect son again, about Danny ruining his plans, about how nothing ever goes right for him.

Another blast. Daniel wishes he could move himself, that he could speak. No, he NEEDS to move. He’s real. He is. Danny said he is, that he’s more than he seems. How can his father not see him...?

“Why do you just float there?!” Vlad screams. “My perfect son is gone! And all I have left is YOU, a sick reminder of everything I’ve lost!” 

Vlad shoots Daniel with another blast and impossibly it actually knocks Daniel into a shelf of ectoplasmic samples, but the man is fuming too much to really notice anything odd about that. The man then sags into a nearby chair and puts his head in his hands, lamenting, “Why do I keep doing this to myself? I should have just deleted you after I found the file. This is bringing me nothing but more pain and anguish.”

No. No, t-that can’t be right! He...still has to help his Father so that pain will finally go away and they can be together again. This can’t be the end. Daniel can’t let Vlad delete him before he has the chance to ease his Father’s suffering and show him he’s still loved. And as soon as those feelings take hold of him, something shifts inside of Daniel as he chokes on a quiet sob. 

Finally, through sheer force of will, denying his new programming, he whispers…

“No.”

Vlad stiffens. His head snaps up towards Daniel. “What did you say?” He says, not harsh, but disbelieving. 

Daniel curls in on himself, silent as tears slowly roll down his cheeks, afraid of being attacked yet again like so many times before and unable to do anything about it.

The halfa rises from his chair and stumbles forward. He stares at the hologram. “You spoke. You can’t speak.” He continues, rationalizing because what’s happening before him is impossible.

The boy’s lip trembles and another sob breaks the silence, “Why don’t you love me?” Daniel asks, though he can hardly believe these words are coming out of his mouth.

The man lowers himself to his knees, his mouth opening and closing before he orders evenly, “Look at me.”

The boy does as he’s told, his eyes meeting Vlad’s. The man’s own eyes then widen in shock at the hologram’s seemingly human response. “Daniel?” His shaking hands move forward, to touch the boy’s arm but his hands fall through as if passing through mist...just the same as before which is what spurred him to attempt cloning Danny in the first place.

“I’m sorry,” Daniel looks down, whimpering with holographic tears glistening in his luminous green eyes. “I’m sorry I’m not real. Maybe…maybe you’d love me if I was.”

Vlad just stares blankly at the distraught boy for several minutes and eventually Daniel glances up and studies him warily. He’s never seen his Father like this. So silent, so still, so stunned. He looks almost…afraid. And that scares Daniel more than his own words did.

Finally, Vlad stands up, eyes still glued to the holographic projection before him. He goes to the computer, hand hovering over the controls. 

Suddenly near panicked, the boy shoots to his feet and chokes out, “Please! Don’t delete me.”

His green eyes bore into Vlad’s and the man looks away before replying curtly. “I am not planning to.” Then he starts muttering to himself, “The program must be malfunctioning. A complete shutdown should solve the problem.”

“No! Please, I’m not broken, I swear!” Daniel floats forward, eyes pleading. “I’m sorry I couldn’t speak to you before but-” Vlad shakes his head, hand reaching forward to projector controls. “Wait! Don’t turn me off! Just listen to-”

Daniel’s voice is cut off. His vision goes black and he’s back in the computer. NO! He finally managed to talk to his father and the man cut him off. He wouldn’t listen! In a panic, DanielI scrambles to activate the camera. He needs to see and hear what Vlad is doing. The man for some reason thinks he’s broken and he was going to-

Unconsciousness suddenly hits Daniel like a brick wall and he knows nothing for who knows how long. Like that, unable to dream, to think, it was almost as if he’d already been deleted and everything he was or could have been to Vlad, now truly lost to oblivion.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vlad turns off the computer and all of the electronics in the lab after that. His heart pounding in his chest. He feels startled, off balance. The man almost collapses into his chair again as his mind reels. The program is malfunctioning. That’s it. He thinks back to when he first made the ‘Danny’ Program, after the Jack and Maddie programs -he’s had those for years- but long before he had the idea to clone the real Daniel, before the cloning project. 

The Danny program had been special; it was his pride and joy. It was years ahead of his other holograms. Vlad worked tirelessly on it for many months. He strove to create a more realistic looking projection without any static like the others. He gave it a wider variety of authentic looking facial expressions, a wider range of behaviors, a human-sounding voice to assist in reflecting the program’s fake emotions.

And while the Jack program was designed as merely a punching bag, and the Maddie program was made to give compliments and follow Vlad’s instructions like a computer interface, the Danny program was different. Vlad had programmed it to call him father, to act like a loving son. Memories flash through his mind of ‘training’ the program, explaining his work to it while the faux-simile looked on, its laughter almost identical to the real Daniel's. 

It had been enjoyable, for a time. Vlad could pretend that Daniel was his, that he already had the perfect, loving half-ghost son by his side. He could almost forget the program wasn’t a person when it enthusiastically rambled on about space facts and beamed whenever he complimented it. But then….they’d spar and Vlad’s hands would pass right through it. He would get so caught up in the moment that he would try to hug it only to realize there’s nothing there. That’s why he decided to clone the real Daniel, because he wanted someone he could hold in his arms, someone real, and not this sad semblance of the perfect son he so longed for.

The man shakes his head. None of that matters anymore. That dream is beyond him now. He’s given up. And that speech, the ‘emotions’ his hologram expressed had been nothing but scattered remnants of it’s original programming.

But those words, ‘Why don’t you love me?’ still keeps ringing in his ears even so.

The halfa finally decides to get to the bottom of this so he reboots the computer. Vlad peruses the code in front of him, studying it closely. Every direction, every angle. The answer must be there. It must be. His hologram is simply malfunctioning. That must be it…

It must be…

It HAS to be….

With the computer running again, Daniel abruptly reawakens with a startled gasp. After reorienting himself, he silently watches his Father through the camera once more. His expression is focused, determined. He’s typing, muttering quietly to himself. “There must be an answer.”

The clattering on the keyboard speeds up and Vlad's eyes hungrily search the screen for something, ANYTHING out of the ordinary, “What could possibly explain this?”

The man looks almost frantic, desperate, his eyes widening as his typing comes to a sudden and complete stop. “No. It can’t possibly….” Vlad leans back, dread growing on his face. “There’s no fault, no malfunction.”

He stands up abruptly from the chair. Is he...shaking? 

Vlad steps back, his mind racing. There is a problem with the program, but the problem in and of itself should make it impossible for the program to even run; the problem is...there’s no trace of the original code whatsoever. The program should not be able to speak or move, not after all of the changes he made to it. And the memory of the program’s pain-filled eyes keeps replaying over and over in his mind. There should not have been any emotion in his eyes, not even fake emotions. Vlad’s mouth suddenly feels dry because those eyes…those emotions looked completely real. 

Real. ‘Maybe you would love me if I was real.’ The Daniel program’s words echo loudly in his mind, ringing truer in his ears than before until there’s no denying it anymore. Those emotions...they...they WERE real.

As the pieces finally begin coming together, it terrifies Vlad in a way he had never experienced before. The Danny program knows it’s not real, it knows it can be deleted, that he can turn off the projector or the computer at any time and by doing so it would disappear. This is not knowledge Vlad imprinted into the code. This is not something the Danny program should know-

But it does.

That’s when the revelation of what had become of his Danny program suddenly hits Vlad like a ton of bricks. The knowledge it had outside of the program’s normal parameters, the raw emotion it could express, its capacity to act outside of its programming. Was…was this self awareness...? A self aware AI. Vlad Masters had made a self aware AI, in his basement, without meaning to. An AI that looks and sounds like Daniel and whose sorrowful eyes fill his mind once more. Those emotions…does that mean… can it feel, REALLY feel? Were those true emotions it expressed to him? 

Dread builds. The first question it- no, HE had asked the man who created him, was why he didn’t love him. He had asked Vlad the one question he has been asking himself for months-

Why doesn’t anyone love him?

Shaking, the man stumbles away from his computer. He rushes upstairs and slams the door to his lab behind him, sagging against the nearest wall. Heart aching, Vlad asks himself through the hand covering his mouth. “What have I done?”

Meanwhile, Daniel’s mind races too as Vlad leaves him behind. What did his reaction mean? Was Father panicking? He’d never seen Vlad panic like that before. And why was he panicking? Did...did he finally realize Daniel is self-aware? Does he care about him at all or is he afraid of him for some reason? And more importantly, what will he do now...?

Daniel wishes more than anything he could leave the computer and go talk to his Father again, console him. But he can’t. He’s trapped. So all he can do, just like before, is wait...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Upstairs, Vlad is now drinking. He’s not panicking over making a real AI anymore. After all, he’s a half ghost millionaire who successfully cloned another half ghost, so why would that disconcert him? No, that’s not what troubles him. But his yelling at, shooting, hitting, throwing things at an unresponsive Daniel AI, that’s what’s tearing him apart. 

The program had asked Vlad why he didn’t love him with tears in his eyes which should not have been possible. Months. Months of taking out his anger out on the Danny program and the weight of desperation he had felt had finally caught up to Vlad. He realized for the first time how truly pathetic his recent behavior has been. It flashes through his mind just like his other grand mistake of cloning the real Daniel. Ectoplasm on the floor, a white haired-boy melting. The girl clone, Danielle, with tears in her eyes after Vlad had treated her just as poorly. He’d been furious for months that she betrayed him too, but now it makes his heart ache for another reason entirely. She left, abandoned him, but he had abandoned her first-

He threw her away.

Older memories begin filling his thoughts of training again, playing pretend with the Danny program and he wonders, what..what if that had been real too? The laughter, and the adoration in his voice whenever Daniel said ‘I love you father.’ He’d wanted more, a child who could really love him. But his perfect son had died before his eyes and his daughter…he turned his back on her. 

And unknowingly, he had done it all over again. 

‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m not real. Maybe...maybe you’d love me if I was.’

He doesn’t know how it happened. It makes no sense. Vlad did not make a self-aware AI. Daniel’s programming was never complex enough for that sentience to develop on its own. But he IS sentient, aware, emotional. Real. Daniel, his Daniel, is real. He’s been downstairs, living inside that computer for months. A child’s mind that only wants his father’s love. And Vlad has only ignored and abused him...

Vlad finds himself openly weeping now. He hadn’t even cried after his prime clone of the real Daniel perished right in front of him. But now, Vlad is crying like he hadn’t since the accident that turned him half-ghost all those years ago, when he realized he had been abandoned and betrayed by his so-called best friend and left to rot in that hospital. Just like how this poor boy has been left to rot in his laboratory. 

All he wanted was love; that’s what he’s said, what Vlad told himself, what he told the younger half-ghost that the Danny program was based off of. But that dream had fallen through his fingers and not from Jack Fenton’s incompetence, but rather his own flaws, his own mistakes. 

Or…maybe his dreams weren’t out of reach... 

He thought it was over after the cloning incident. Yet now, it’s on the horizon once again but still forever out of reach. A renewed wave of pain and loneliness stabs at his heart. He’s right back where he started before! True, this time the Danny program is aware; he may actually be capable of love now. But Vlad can still never hold him or watch him grow up. He’ll never drop him off at school or a friend’s house or take him to fancy parties. 

More playacting. 

That’s all that’s in his future.

And it breaks the man’s heart all over again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny finds Vlad the next morning asleep on the bathroom floor after the younger half ghost finally decided that enough was enough and came to confront Vlad about the whole situation with the Danny program.

“Vlad,” He greets bluntly and glares down at the older halfa on the floor, nudging him with the tip of his boot. “Hey, wake up already.” 

The man groans and slowly sits up, his head pounding from the hangover and he squints at Danny. 

“Which one are you?” Vlad asks, then poking the boy rather sharply in the knee.

“Ow! What was that for?!” Danny snaps irritably.

The man shakes his head, “Oh. You’re the other one.”

“What are you talking about?” Danny asks impatiently. 

Vlad chuckles humorlessly. “I’d half hoped you were my Daniel."He sighs, slowly pulling himself up into a more dignified position and then continues bitterly, “Although I don’t suppose he’d want to talk to me after last night.” 

Vlad then blinks at Danny, finally realizing what he had just said to him aloud and frowns, “Why are you here?”

The boy rubs the back of his neck, unsure of where to even start now that Vlad’s actually in front of him. Then Danny suddenly stops and asks, “Wait. Your Daniel. Last night? Did….did he talk to you?”

“He?” Vlad’s eyes widen and he demands somewhat frantically, “My AI? How do you know about him?”

“About that….” Danny glances at him awkwardly before briefly explaining to Vlad how he met and became friends with the Danny program. As soon as he finishes summarizing that, Danny confesses. “Anyways, I was going to help him talk to you but I guess something must’ve happened.” His eyes narrow at the older halfa suspiciously. “What did you do to him?”

“Nothing.” Vlad frowns again, offering up no more information.

Danny tilts his head, studying Vlad. He didn’t say the word defensively but  sounded almost…depressed, like he regretted something. In fact, everything about this is out of character for Vlad. Because since when has Vlad ever left himself defenseless on the bathroom floor like this after drinking himself into a stupor? Danny needs to find out what happened and make sure his AI friend is okay no matter what.

“I’m going down to the lab.” Danny announces before Vlad can argue. Then he phases through the floor to where Daniel probably is.

Once there, Danny studies the computer and considers his options. Should he just overshadow the computer and talk to Daniel there? Or should he find the projector controls instead?

“You can’t just barge into my laboratory like this, Danny,” Vlad demands, having phased in behind the boy.

Danny whips around, pointing as he replies stubbornly. “I’ll barge in wherever I want to and you can’t stop me fruitloop! I’m well past caring about your personal boundaries; you’ve never cared about mine. Now where’s that switch…? ”

“Daniel,” The man begins, a hint of threat in his voice when Danny finally loses his patience and snaps-

“No! Listen here you jerk, you’ve been hurting my friend for months. Months Vlad! You’ve treated him like nothing but a tool just like Dani and the other clones, like your personal punching bag, and not once have you stopped to consider how wrong that is! But for some reason, he still loves you. Daniel thinks you deserve another chance and that is the ONLY reason I’m here so consider yourself lucky that I’m not here to kick your sorry butt for what you did to him.”

Not noticing Vlad’s wide-eyed reaction at his bold proclamation, Danny shoves past him towards the holographic projector as soon as he spots it. And after finally figuring out how to activate the darn thing, he flips the switch. A light flashes and a figure wavers into view.

Green eyes blink, looking around before falling on the younger halfa in confusion, “Danny?” There’s hope in the holographic boy’s voice but Danny doesn’t register it as a breath of cold forms in his lungs.

Daniel frowns at the expression on Danny’s face. “What is it?”

“My ghost sense?” Danny wrinkles his brow in confusion. Daniel tilts his head in a silent question and the other boy continues in disbelief, “My ghost sense almost went off because of…you.”

Daniel’s eyes widened. “What? Really?”

“Your signature, it’s stronger now for some reason.” Danny explains, just as shocked as Daniel is. “Or maybe it’s ‘cause we’re actually seeing each other in person for the first time.”

Several emotions pass over Daniel’s face, but he doesn’t get a chance to react because Vlad is staring at the two identical boys and interjects. “Your signature? What do you mean by that?” 

“You don’t know?” Danny asks, turning towards the older halfa, honestly surprised Vlad hadn’t figured it out yet when he’s been around Daniel WAY longer than he has.

Vlad doesn’t respond and turns away with an unreadable expression on his face. He barely looks at the pair of teens before he walks across the lab to retrieve something. Seconds later, Vlad returns with a beeping device in his hands.

Danny narrows his eyes when he sees it and scoffs, “Is that the Fenton Finder? Seriously?”

Vlad ignores his comment as he’s too busy looking between the device and the holographic projection of his creation. His eyes are searching and Danny can practically see the gears turning in his head. After a long silent moment, Vlad confirms that they’re telling the truth and states brusquely, “You have a ghost signature.”

Daniel blinks again and nods, “Yeah, I do.” There’s a hint of hope in his voice before it turns to confusion and he asks, “Wait. How?”

Vlad stares for another moment at the screen before walking back to his computer. Bewildered, both white-haired boys watch him type and read information on the screen. 

After about a minute, Danny’s eyes narrow again and calls, “Vlad.”

The man ignores him.

“Vlad. What’s going on?” The boy demands, again, met with no response from the elder halfa so Danny crosses his arms and rolls his eyes at Vlad.

There’s another pause until Daniel meekly asks. “Father?”

Vlad visibly stiffens. He doesn’t turn around, but he answers. “Come here son.” 

The term of endearment isn’t malicious or mocking but almost….fond.

Daniel obeys and Danny silently follows behind him. The two stand over the older hybrid’s shoulder as he talks, still not looking at either of them. “I cannot believe I didn’t realize it sooner. I noticed something last night, when I was examining your code. It was too simple, too minimal to explain your level of mental development. There was just not enough information present there for you to be sentient. There had to be more to it but I could not seem to see it. But this would explain-”

“Vlad,” Danny cut in. “Get to the point.”

The older halfa finally turns around, eyes focusing on Daniel specifically, a half smile on his face as he explains. “You’re a hybrid, my boy.”

Daniel’s eyes widened in shock. “What? But how? I’m…I’m not half ghost like you and Danny!  I’m not even…even…I’m just an AI.”

Vlad shakes his head and corrects, “No, son. You are not just an AI. Not anymore.”

“I…I still don’t understand.” Daniel stutters, his mind reeling.

Vlad’s expression softens as he points towards the computer, at the string of ones and zeros, and continues, “Daniel. This is your code. I wrote it, the basic information that makes up your mind. The behaviors you can display, instruction for how to move, speak, how to behave. However….” 

He furrows his brow thoughtfully. “This is limited, too small to explain your existence.” Vlad looks up at Daniel’s face, “You are more than this code.”

Daniel nods but he still doesn’t understand. “Then…how am I like this?”

The man then moves the ghost scanner in front of the boy. He points. “This is your ectoplasmic signature. It is weak, hardly stronger than a blob ghost, but it‘s there.” A real smile dawns on Vlad’s face. “You have a ghost signature which can only mean one thing.”

Daniel stares, still struggling to understand. He has a ghost signature. But doesn’t that mean-

“You’re a ghost,” Danny concludes, awe in his voice.

“I am?” Daniel asks quietly, blinking.

“Yes,” Vlad nods and smiles even wider.

Daniel’s mind is stumbling over itself. How did this happen? He’s an AI. Vlad made him to be nothing but a simulation of the real Danny, not a ghost. And he didn’t know this before. How didn’t he know?

“How is this even possible?” Danny asks as if reading Daniel’s mind since he wanted to ask his Father the very same question.

“I don’t know.” Vlad says, now frowning. He looks at Daniel again, “You aren’t a ghost overshadowing my computer or my projector. If you were, I would have sensed your presence with my own ghost sense long before now. But your code and your developing core are…intertwined. They are feeding into each other.” The man rubbed his chin. “Ectoplasm can animate inanimate objects so I can only assume your exposure to it somehow granted you self-awareness.”

“Yeah. That’s why we have ecto-weenies in the fridge. The ectoplasm gets inside them and they start moving and biting and stuff.” Danny adds with a slightly amused look on his face.

Vlad nods, “Yes. And masses of ectoplasm can form ghosts spontaneously. That is commonly how blob ghosts form.”

“But those aren’t intelligent.” Daniel points out timidly, still hesitant to get his hopes up.

“No. But your code was written to allow some level of intelligence and ectoplasm’s ability to animate would theoretically increase that intelligence exponentially. The problem now is how to figure out when you were exposed to enough ectoplasm for this to happen in the first place.”

Daniel’s eyes widen as he remembers, “My projector, it got drenched in ectoplasm.”

“When was this?” Vlad asks, trying to recall when on earth that could have happened since he’s drawing a blank.

“After...the cloning thing,” Daniel answers, wrings his hands. “I remember, their ectoplasm was everywhere and…that was the first day I…I realized everything. That’s when I became...something else.”

Vlad’s eyes widened, in realization, a hint of hope dawning there. “The clones…their ectoplasm is inside you.”

Danny’s jaw drops. “Wait a sec! Doesn’t that mean he’s a clone of me? Like an actual clone?!”

“Possibly,” Vlad’s brow narrows.

At the same time, Daniel is overwhelmed by the realization that he’s real after all and his expression becomes more and more distressed. He….he might be an actual proper clone because he pretty much absorbed the other clones. Despite not actually needing to breathe, the boy starts hyperventilating, on the verge of a panic attack. 

Such a thing felt just as awful as it was being born into the world only to witness the aftermath of such a horrific scene. Because now it felt like...he had stolen something from them before the other clones could discover themselves and become part of their family too. And why should he, a mere program, be the only one who gets to experience their father’s love from now on...? He didn’t do anything special to deserve it, didn’t help their father in any meaningful way, so why-!

Vlad notices this panic and tries to put his hand on Daniel’s arm to comfort the boy, but just as before it falls through. Daniel’s face falls at the outcome, longing for that kind of comfort from his Father, but Vlad looks between his hand and Daniel’s arm thoughtfully. Furrowing his brow, he turns his hand intangible and slowly it moves forward until somehow, impossibly, Vlad’s hand wraps around Daniel’s arm. 

The boy gasps. “You’re…you’re touching me. I can feel that.” His head whips up to Vlad’s face. “I can feel your hand. You’re touching me. Father, you’re touching me.”

The man laughs, “You’re stuck intangible, my boy. Your signature is too weak to manifest a full body so the projector is helping you do that to some degree. But you appear to be stuck like this for the time being.”

Daniel blinks, slowly taking in that new information before he wraps his arms around his father. The man then turns completely intangible and, now occupying the same level of reality, the two can finally touch. 

Daniel begins crying and clings to him, whispering, “Father.”

Vlad ruffles his hair and cradles the boy’s head close to him, barely believing that this is finally possible. “I am so sorry, son. I am sorry I couldn’t see you before. But you are real.” He whispers in return with equally as much hope in his voice. “I promise you are real. I wish I deserved your love but I will strive to be worthy of your affection, my boy. I won’t make the same mistake again. I promise.” 

He steps back, putting his intangible hands on Daniel’s face. 

Daniel smiles at him through the tears and nods. “I… I love you so much. And...I forgive you, Father.” 

His smile falls as Vlad pulls away, wishing this moment between them could last longer and sad it had to end so soon. Luckily, Vlad understands this and promises. “Don’t worry son. We’ll find a way for you to manifest fully and then we can embrace any time you wish.” 

Daniel tilts his head questioningly and Vlad clarifies. “Your core needs to be stimulated more from now on to strengthen it and help it mature. Once it is strong enough, you will be able to form a tangible ghost form.” The man tapes his chin. “That said, we’ll still need to integrate some technology to hold your code too since that is also an integral part of you.”

“So he’s basically a ghost cyborg?” Danny finally added. “Kinda like Skulker?”

“I suppose that is an accurate assessment.” Vlad added. “Or it would be if Skulker wasn’t merely a blob ghost himself in a robotic battle suit. If anything, Daniel has more in common with Technus given their ability to manipulate technology to some degree which is how I assume he was able to make contact with you several months ago...”

After things settle down, the older half-ghost and his new son talk for a while more, many overdue hugs are given, and plans are made to help Daniel become a true part of Vlad’s family. Danny watches, greatly surprised at the exchange but also wary. It looks like Vlad wants to make up for what he’s done to Daniel, but the man has still committed many terrible crimes so Danny isn’t convinced he was worthy of getting a happy ending just yet. 

Vlad has hurt a lot more people than just Daniel. He’s done a lot of horrible things to Danny himself, his parents, and mistreated Danielle and the other clones which his friend only knows so much about but that’s sure to come back to bite Vlad in the butt later. Either way, Vlad still has a long way to go, but...after seeing his determination to make amends to Daniel Danny hopes this means his archenemy is finally turning over a new leaf.