#humans being babied by transformers is so good
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riddlers-roulette · 2 days ago
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Probably a bit of a hot take, and definitely petty fandom salt, but i’ve come to notice that in recent years, with most fandom spaces becoming puritanical in their efforts to ice out anything that can be labeled toxic, or anything that just doesn't fit the fandom’s prevalent opinions on a situation or character–a phenomenon that has only been exacerbated by TikTok and the overuse of “therapy-speak”--there seems to be a general lack of nuance and/or sense of media literacy in most vocal fandom spaces when it comes to a story that is not just black and white.
Arcane is one of the most recent example of this, with (arcane s2 spoilers ahead) characters caitlyn and vi being discussed pretty heavily with the terms like “domestic abuse” and “abuser apologism” particularly when it comes to caitlyn’s act of jabbing her rifle at vi’s side before walking away, leaving vi anguished. Now, i’m not saying domestic abuse is not real–i’m just saying, that in this instance, I don't believe that the act was domestic violence, nor do i believe that any of the parties that make up CaitVi are abusers.
Arcane itself is a complex story with heart shattering situations that the characters find themselves in constantly, often putting them at odds with their morals, the morals of their environment, and the morals of the audience. Do I think caitlyn was right to jab her rifle at vi? No. But we as an audience can tell that neither does Caitlyn herself. Neither does Vi. But when Caitlyn did so, it was when she was under immense emotional duress, her mother’s killer getting away, and she was blocked from taking vengeance by the person she trusted the most. When she said the horrible things she did, she was hurting and angry and lashing out–she was punching the walls like a woman gone. And why is it that we can offer characters like Jinx the grace to absolve her of her crimes due to her own psychotic breaks, but not other characters to their own actions done in moments of their own breakdowns? Vi punching Powder, for instance. An act that had Vi villainized by the fandom for a long time. 
Which brings me to another point–absolution. It is one the extremes characters tend to fall into when it comes to fandom, with the other extreme being amplification. A character’s sins tend to be glossed over, or explained away so that the character in question becomes an unquestionable angel and champion of justice, or, in other cases, tend to be overly exaggerated, making the character out to be the worst of the worst, the lowest of the low. Rarely is there an in-between, with multifaceted characters complete with riveting backstory and motivations and complicated characteristics inevitably losing a little of what makes them, them, all in the pursuit of woobification, gratuitous groveling from other characters, and victimization; it’s an apology fantasy on steroids. In other cases, and often, connected cases, if one character is getting the baby treatment then chances are that another is getting the villain treatment, becoming a sort of caricature of themselves. Motives and environmental factors and politics are all thrown out the window, and all that’s left is cartoonish, flat, oft one-dimensional portrayals. 
Arcane’s Silco is an example of the former, with the singular trait of caring for Jinx becoming twisted and emphasized until he is nigh unrecognizable. His harmful actions towards the undercity are erased and he is lifted up instead as something other than he was. He is transformed from the fascinatingly flawed, human depiction to something bland and uncanny. He is just a Poor Sad Betrayed Meow Meow who is also a Good Dad. But it’s okay because he also does crimes! Except wait, those crimes are also sanitized and cutesy, or horrific and without reason or logic. He has lost what makes him, him.
And for the other half of the coin, the unnecessary villainization, we have Jayce! Jayce was hated upon widely, especially after the release of Season 1, and his struggles were erased.
(and yes, there were struggles. Jayce was more privileged than those from the Undercity, that is unquestionable, but he was not as privileged as the other Council members or even most of his peers. He had the fortune of a patron, but that was something that had to be earned, and he could always risk losing. He was from a House, yes, but it was also a minor one, and he would have labored in his factories alongside other workers–he wasn’t a crazy wealthy guy. He staked his entire life on his research that he was actually going to take his own life when his dream was taken from him. His dream wasn’t to generate wealth by unlocking the arcane, but rather, it was to put these tools in the hands of the common man too. One of his first act as councilors was to immediately try to root out corruption. He was able bodied and from Piltover, and so, had more privilege than Viktor (who is my favorite arcane character) that is undeniable. But Jayce did have struggles, he wasn’t taken seriously by the Council due to his own status and had to go through them initially when it came to his own HexTech. Jayce had struggles,but Jayce is a POC and Viktor is a white boy, so Jayce’s problems are gonna be minimized by fandom but that’s a whole other issue–)
And yet, three years ago, the Jayce hate was at a total high, with every action of his being dramatized so as to make Viktor’s pain far more excruciating. 
I’ve derailed a little! The point of this post was to point out the “therapy speak” in fandom that often comes at the cost of lifting one character up and bashing the other, all while skipping over the context and nuance for the gray situations the characters found themselves in. All this to say–with fandom’s recent behaviors when it comes to relationships in fandom, it really makes you wonder if people have forgotten that relationships aren’t easy and actually require constant work and effort. That relationships change and evolve and grow with each obstacle that comes one’s way, and that sometimes things get rough, but that love is being able to understand and empathize with one’s partners–that not everything is black and white and that not every mistake is irredeemable.
edit: also, don’t really care enough to argue with ppl on this point in the notes. it’s tired and repetitive and half the time it’s like arguing with a brick wall. if this gets out of hand I will start deleting and/or restricting replies
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raileurta · 1 month ago
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Considering how much Optimus is dadified in the fandom I kinda find it surprising there isn't any ao3 fics centered on him being Sam's extra father figure. It will be like a background thing or he'll be an older brother figure but never a dad. 🤔
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transingthoseformers · 2 years ago
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A thing I've been doing:
*everyone talking about Orion and Megatronus before the war*
Miko: "Wait were you Megatron's sugar daddy???"
Optimus: "What is a sugar daddy"
*old man googling noises*
Optimus: "primus"
Oppy: "so apparently I was Megatronus's sugar daddy when I was Orion."
*dying and wheezing across the room*
Ratchet: "yOU'RE JUST NOW REALIZING THIS???"
Oppy: "wELL iT WaSN'T exactly on purpose Ratty—"
Jack: "RATTY?!?🤣 Sorry dude but you're Ratty now."
Ratchet: "this is why your father left 'to get milk and cigarettes' jack"
Bumblebee, recording it all: [this is amazing, Blades is going to love it.]
Raf: "oh you need to show this to your boyfriend"
*indignant Bumblebee whirps and chirrs*
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lord-squiggletits · 2 years ago
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The main thing about IDW OP that I'm on my hands and knees begging people to understand is to actually treat him like a fucking character and give him the nuanced understanding that this fandom gives to other characters just fine. Like, I s2g the reason no one even talks about IDW OP is because at the first sign of him making mistakes or having a flawed worldview (you know, like a REAL PERSON and not a cartoon caricature) they instantly bail and go "zomg worst Optimus ever".
Like please for fuck's sake IDW1 is a story steeped in realism and moral grayness can you stop for ONE SECOND and realize that IDW OP being a little bit of an asshole or making big mistakes doesn't instantly make him the worst character ever and maybe take the time to actually read his story? B/c half the shit people say about IDW OP makes it obvious that they've only read MTMTE and LL (badly, might I add) and it annoys the shit out of me
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oglegoggle · 2 years ago
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It bothers me when folks insist that there are literally no good reasons to surrender pets because it destroys their hearts. Like…. My dude…. That evil fuckin cat that slashed my literal eyeball should be surrendered. I found new homes for my three cats because I couldn’t take having multiple panic attacks triggered every single fucking day because they’ve got claws and I’ve got a new dose of fresh PTSD caused by that demon slashing my eye. I still can’t sleep well because of the nightmares about it. The pain and the blood and the temp blindness in that eye and the extreme fear. It’s been months. My life was fucking destroyed and my love of cats ripped from my soul. But I’m the villain? No. Needs drastically change sometimes and it sucks for everyone involved. It wasn’t good for me having cats around. It wasn’t good for my cats to have their only human destabilized and constantly rejecting their affection. They’ve got a new home where all three miraculously got to stay together and are dearly loved again as they deserve to be.
#this is goggles#he didn’t want to surrender her because nobody will adopt a black cat with hardcore behavioral issues that put someone in the ER#and she would likely be put down#yanno the way humans have been dealing with and selectively breeding their domestic animals for literal millennia#but he’s an asshole with behavioral issues himself and doesn’t give a flying fuck about others#lmfao one of his friends told me they think he should honestly be institutionalized for his myriad of out of control behavioral issues#he needs a parent more than a partner but he still continues to date and expect those he dates to baby him#but then is upset when people don’t want to deal with him because he acts like a literal spoiled child#his friends are growing fed up with his shit after seeing how he treated me and that’s so fucking funny to me#good honestly I hope he drives off everyone around him and is left with just himself#in his nasty piss and shit filled dirty laundry nest he calls a home#he reminds me so much of a guy I used to play D&D with who did the exact same shit and was mooching off his dad well into his 60s#and would throw pissbaby fits whenever he wasn’t the center of attention or if anyone told him off for acting like a child#still complains about how awful his two years of marriage 30 years prior were because his ex-wife would constantly nag him to clean up#I was so patient with my ex because I saw a lot of the ways my own behavior was influenced by AuDHD and fucked up and I actually fixed them#I fixed those flaws and now I live in a BH&G levels of clean home I’m on track for a good career#my life transformed while I was with him but his did not and now that I ain’t dealing with him the boons of my work are clear as day#and he’s mad he’s in his parents basement working his $12/hr weed job and getting nagged for being irresponsible and filthy#lmfao moron
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supershot73199 · 5 months ago
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So something I would like to point out is despite the shit we give him Danny is a fighting savant.
Like any time Danny is fighting with his feet planted on a surface he is pulling off badass martial arts maneuvers or kicking ass. Hell in the first episode he manages a roundhouse kick with enough force to basically cut through multiple meat monsters, and this is at his weakest in the show.
Like we say he fights like a feral racoon but that's only when he's fighting midair and how would he have midair combat training? Humans can't fly like that.
Still in the first season Danny catches Fright Knights sword barehand without a scratch! Boy is a badass.
When he was fighting with his classmates to rescue their parents in pirate radio he was the most competent one there until he let himself get thrown over the edge to give him an excuse to transform without anyone noticing.
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Like sure he's getting dogged in this fight but not from a lack of skill, Danny gets several good hits in but he doesn't have the strength this early in the series to do any damage to Fright Knight. But then he not only catches the blade but disarms and judo flips him without getting cut by the blade once.
So I think it would be fun to have DC characters notice this he has the skill and he now has the power to back it up. Have Danny meet Wildcat the former boxer turned vigilante who trained both Black Canary and Batman in boxing.
So one thing that i would like to see is Danny in a similar situation like in the video, Deathstroke is literally a super soldier and mercenary so some rich bastard who Danny pissed off hires him to kill this kid i like the idea that danny is patenting a medical device that can be used to treat metas or non human biology and the rich guy is pissed Danny won't sell him the patent. Bat of your choice, I'm going with Cass, gets told by Oracle who hacked into the communications between the two but she's not quite fast enough to stop the fight from breaking out.
Danny is in his human form which limits his strength but he has skill enough fighting foes who are physically his superior. Cass shows up to see this random scientist holding his own against Deathstroke who earned his title of The Terminator. However before Cass can jump in Danny pulls off the disarming judo throw winning the fight.
Now Cass has a crush on this cute boy. Bruce is considering hiring an assassin himself (not really he's just being dramatic about his baby girl falling in love.)
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greenglowinspooks · 1 year ago
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The way that I’m brainrotting over a DCxDP crossover with a Danny who’s a vengeful villain rn
Like, let’s just say that the GiW finally get into contact with the JL. They need help neutralizing a threat, you see, and they’re on their last limb trying to keep civilians safe.
They have video evidence! They have studies to back their claims! The JL have to help them!
Unfortunately, the JL believe them. They join a fight against Danny, and defeat him due to being far more experienced than he is. Danny is locked away and experimented on by the GiW.
That would CHANGE a person. Your heroes turning against you and seeing you as a monster, being experimented on for who knows how long, not knowing if your friends and family are safe.
Danny gets out due to a simple mistake on the GiW’s part; having Blüdhaven as part of their transport route.
Of course the trucks were attacked, they’re government property!
So now, whoever decided to raid the government transport trucks (the Penguin or something) has a ton of experimental weapons with no idea how they work, and a heavily traumatized teenager.
Danny knows how they work. Danny can be useful! They won’t throw him out if he’s useful! And so, now Danny is working for the Penguin, altering the ectoplasm weapons to make them work on humans.
It’s a good deal for both parties. Danny gets to neurotically imprint on the Penguin like a small baby animal, and the Penguin gets a brilliant mind who will stop at nothing to achieve his goals.
But eventually, Danny finds out what happened to his family in his absence.
Jazz is in Arkham. Not as a psychologist, but as a “patient.” Apparently, she snapped and completely destroyed the house, leveled a few blocks of Amity Park, and conducted organized attacks on government bases (mostly GiW) for months.
Sam and Tucker helped her, eventually splitting once Jazz was captured. Sam travels to areas of extreme pollution, completely overgrowing them with her plant powers. Currently she’s in the Amazon rainforest, engaging in an ongoing feud with logging companies. Sam is winning.
Tucker faked his death, and Danny has no idea where he is. He only knows that the death wasn’t real because of a code that the three of them made together, just in case.
Ellie’s trapped in the Infinite Realms. Danny had a failsafe in place so that if she was ever cornered by the GiW, she would be sent to her haunt in the GZ. However, with the portal destroyed, she can’t come back. Danny just hopes she’s okay.
His parents are now top GiW scientists. They’re traveling the country giving speeches. They’re working on a battery powered by ectoplasm, but apparently started “having difficulties” around the same time that Danny escaped.
None of it is fair. None of it is right.
The Justice League destroyed his life, the lives of his friends, and they’re doing as good as ever. The GiW is respected, and his parents are happily working away for them.
Danny takes up some of his more experimental weapons and breaks Jazz out of Arkham. She’s a little different now, colder and more quiet, but she still loves him all the same. It’s an unimaginable comfort to him to see his sister again.
He can’t use his powers anymore. He’s so used to associating them with pain that even transforming into his ghost form is enough to take him down for hours.
However, he understands ectoplasm more than anyone else in the world. He knows how to use it in virtually everything; how it can become a weapon, how it can be used as a supplemental ingredient in poisons and nerve agents, how it can twist and distort the mind if applied correctly.
He doesn’t care what happens to him. He’s going to take down the GiW, and destroy the lives of the JL members who helped lock him away, just as they did to him.
No matter the cost.
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curiouspupsicle · 29 days ago
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Good Omens is a Transformative Work
It has been since the very beginning.
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NG (fuck NG) thought of a book plot where a demon finds himself in The Omen movie. But he screws up the baby switch. And the Antichrist grew up as a character in a Richmal Crompton novel. He didn't know what to do with it next. TP offered to buy the story. He changed the demon into a demon and an angel defying their bosses on the earth they both loved. He added his smart whimsy and gave the story a moral core far beyond a silly spoof. When the story was written, queer kids saw themselves in the angel and demon based on the subtext. Because they lived in subtext. Gender fluid and trans readers created stories about an angel and demon for whom gender was a choice depending on how or whether they decided to make an effort. The strangeness of fitting into a planet dominated by beings the angel and demon differed from spoke to neurodivergent readers.
Religious readers found healing after years of struggling to make sense of doctrine divorced from morality. Some ace and aro readers saw the deep and meaningful relationship beyond romance between a pair together over 6000 years. And tons of horny people from all walks of life poured their hearts into smut that made the most of beings whose bodies allowed for a range of sexual practice that would never be realistic for humans.
People who felt rejected or unloved because they were "too much" or "too little", took solace from an angel who didn't mind the gruffness of the demon who couldn't bear to be cruel. And the demon who liked the angel being a little bit of a bastard. If an angel and demon could care for and accept each other for themselves, perhaps it could happen for them too? This is why the Good Omens fandom is so special. Transformation has been baked into his story from the very beginning. Biblical fan fiction, a collaborative story by two authors, a tv show/movie brought to life by a team of actors, designers, writers... And now also entire worlds of fan fiction and art. Good Omens continues to transform itself and the people who love it. And it will always be ours as we continue to transform it for generations to come.
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chowadoe · 10 days ago
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my Metamy kid!! his name is Dusty Rose :D ft. single mom Amy Rose and Absentee baby daddy metal sonic LOL
his name's Dusty Rose after Dusty Miller, a plant that looks like metal/silver. Dusty Rose is also a pink color ! it also rhymes with Rusty Rose. im so smart (/j)
born from Metal Sonic's core and infused with Amy's biosignature, Amy and Metal Sonic had a very brief 'thing'... eventually Metal Sonic was soft rebooted and sent away yet again, but he left a piece of himself (part of his 'core'? infused with chaos energy..?) to Amy, which then became Dusty. leaving Dusty as the last true remaining testament of their love
(I just love the idea of Amy with a Waitress style character arc... finding love again in raising her child and not the way she used to think, being spent with another person)
Dusty would be very fixated on the idea of love, after all his mother raised him on the notion of that. Amy's standards for true love and fairytale romance have definitely changed being with Metal Sonic, but the root message being that love is all encompassing and transformative.
He was 'created' to look like Mobian, and Amy treats him no differently than any other Mobian/human. Still, he believes that he should hide all the parts that 'other' him from society, which means his robot parts. (legwarmers!)
He's got a bit of a bad boy edge to him LOLLL i kind of created him that he'd be an emo kid. (fall out boy.. my chemical romance.. a bit of IDKHow) really good at electric guitar and part of a band. eventually he finds his passion is in lyric-writing (all those love stories and inheriting his mother's gift for writing love letters)
he often wonders what a beating heart is like, as someone without one. he's interested in the heartbeats and the pulses of others, but he is a total sweetheart himself.. still, even to other mobians unaware that he is an android (a weapon at that), it's still a little off-putting..
more abt him belolow
Dusty's core is already made/designed after Amy's biosignature, and in meeting other people, he's able to read their biodata and stash it into an archive, but he doesn't reproduce it onto himself. (though unsure if he could? either his code has a blockade or he chooses not to)
Dusty, additional to his stash of weapons, has the ability to shift too like his papa... become something similar to Metal Overlord but not entirely... like a half robot dragon boy or smth.. IF he's under the right conditions to have it pulled out of him. or something
Dusty DOES "grow" up. basically, he's an inorganic being whose core is trying to emulate/copy the growth progression of other organic beings.
As it would grow in size (and Dusty's cognition "matures"), his mother and her friends would modify as needed to adjust his frame, etc, but rarely were things ever replaced. Like a mollusk, its shell growing in size- but one needing accommodations. A heart bigger than its own body that threatens to spill- a chick that has outgrown its shell, well before its expected date- needing modifications to keep it inside and protected
Metal Sonic and Amy would have something profound-- one of those tragic, star-crossed enemies-to-lovers dark fantasy romance stories Amy's always loved to read about- but then having it play in real time and having to come to terms with the real world implications of actually having one. It's just that- a fantasy. and metal sonic would grapple with the ideas of love, which i think would be inherently dark and a little possessive given his upbringing-- but what him and Amy have would be sweet at the very core of it. so him giving a piece of his core that reads and adapts to Amy's biosignature and oops... accidental baby....
Dusty finds himself drawn to music. his mom and dad couldn't quite communicate love language physically (with Metal Sonic's claws and his lack of mouth) so I hc that Amy taught Metal Sonic how to hum and sing and communicate their love through music and vocalizations (which carried onto Dusty)
4th pic is Dusty doing breathing exercises with his mama... Dusty gets embarrassed super easily so him and Amy would regularly do breathing exercises so he doesn't overheat like a PC
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theostrophywife · 6 months ago
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curiosity killed the cat.
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pairing: regulus black x reader.
song inspiration: late night talking by harry styles.
author's note: i've been in such a writing rut lately, but sweet baby boy reggie is singlehandedly bringing me out of it. this idea has been floating in my mind for a while so I hope you all enjoy it. <3
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Curiosity killed the cat.
The irony of the phrase wasn’t entirely lost on Regulus as he cautiously peered through the bustling kitchen. The elves were cleaning up after supper, humming and working diligently to keep the castle in order behind the scenes. Some of them leaned down to reach for him with soapy fingers, but he narrowly avoided each attempt, baring his teeth in warning. 
They would not deter him from his true mission to infiltrate the basement. Having explored all the nooks and crannies Hogwarts had to offer, the Hufflepuff common room was his Atlantis—the last unexplored territory that he had yet to set foot in. 
In his current state, it was perhaps more accurate to say that Regulus had never set paw in this corner of the castle. Most of the time, he found his spontaneous transformations terribly inconvenient, but as Regulus slipped past the door without a trace, the youngest Black brother was suddenly grateful for his complete lack of mastery over his Animagus form. 
To be fair, he was only trying to find some peace and quiet. As of late, Regulus had become particularly fond of the kitchens. It was always warm down here and the smell of freshly baked bread wafted from the ovens and beckoned him towards its glorious scent like a beacon. Not to mention the fact that the elves often left a bowl of cold milk for him every night. 
Well, he supposed it wasn’t exactly for him. At least, not his true human form. The elves were not fond of Regulus the person, but they did adore the feral black cat that haunted the halls of Hogwarts. 
Potato, potato. 
The point is, that his benevolent caretakers were typically careful about securing the ever mysterious door at the end of his little haven. Lest he get his wily little paws all over those timid badgers. Much to his delight, the security measure was not in place tonight. The door was wide open, presenting Regulus with an offer that was simply too good to pass up. 
With a shimmy, he slinked behind enemy lines. Despite being located in the lower levels of the castle like the dungeons were, the Hufflepuff common room was far more welcoming. Instead of gothic furnishings and depressing color palettes, Regulus was greeted with warm earth tones and mismatched furniture. Plants of all shapes and sizes littered the room, which were far more pleasant to look upon than the haughty portraits that lined his own common room. At least the mimbulus in the corner didn’t sputter out rather unnecessary comments about the length of his curls every time he entered the dungeons. 
The Hufflepuffs seemed averse to the menacing lighting that his fellow serpents seemed so fond of, choosing instead to illuminate their space with enchanted sun lamps. It was charming and cozy, if one were to take notice of such things. Malfoy would have deemed it greenhouse chic with a sneer that conveyed aristocratic distaste. For that reason alone, Regulus decided he liked the place. 
The growing fondness was solidified as he followed the intoxicating scent of banana nut muffins. The trail led him to a dorm tucked away into the heart of the basement. Luckily for Regulus, the door was slightly ajar, which was more than enough permission for him to venture inside and make himself comfortable. It was the standard issue room—two beds, two desks, and two dressers. Yet the right side drew his attention. 
The top of the nightstand was brimming with books, all stacked in no particular order. The color scheme of the blankets and pillows consisted of golds, pinks, and oranges, reminding Regulus of the sunset. Fairy lights and enchanted plants provided a lived in feel, which was more than he could say for his obsessively neat dorm with its alphabetically arranged library and utilitarian furniture. Everything in his room was designed with practicality instead of comfort in mind. A choice he was rather proud of until the stark contrast made his space feel cold and rigid in comparison.
The reading nook nestled beside the hearth drew him in like a moth to a flame. Regulus inspected the cloud chair, stomping on the soft woven blanket and plush pillows with his paw before coming to the conclusion that it was as good a place as any to burrow. 
This was the life, he said. Or purred, if he was being technical. 
As Regulus enjoyed the comforts of his newfound paradise, he failed to consider the fact that this dorm belonged to someone and that someone would likely be back any second to reclaim their refuge, given the late hour. Engrossed as he was with licking his paws, Regulus startled when the door swung open. Instantly, he recognized the owner of the dorm as the shy and quiet Hufflepuff that sat beside him in Charms. Regulus lifted a paw to his furry head, feeling foolish that he had not connected the dots earlier. 
No wonder the banana muffin scent drew him in. Every now and then, he caught a whiff of it in class when you quietly claimed the spot beside him. The colorful scrunchies on the dresser also sparked his memory. How many times had Regulus witnessed you twisting the hair tie around your wrist as you quietly murmured the correct answers to Professor Flitwick’s questions under your breath? It never made much sense to him that you would allow the others to blatter and stutter through topics you were clearly an expert on, but Regulus attributed that to his proximity to pompous know-it-all pricks all his life. Slytherins were known to be showoffs, but you seemed to be the complete opposite. 
Perhaps that was the reason why he stayed. Well, that and the fact that he was currently too comfortable to even dream of leaving his sanctuary. Really, the decision was made for him. Regulus watched as you settled into your desk, studying diligently as your quill flew across the parchment. Every so often, you leaned back against the chair and stared at whatever problem eluded you as though intimidating the parchment would bring forth the correct answer. It was rather endearing. Dare he say, charming. 
In his mind, only minutes had passed since the start of your silent companionship, but a glance at the clock said otherwise. It was nearly midnight at this rate. As Regulus grumbled about his inevitable separation from the comfy cloud couch, a group of girls spilled into the room. They briefly said hello to you before gathering at the vanity table on the left side of the room. Regulus assumed one of them was your roommate. Probably the dark haired girl chattering on about the party the Gryffindors were hosting tonight. 
“Do you think Cormac will be there?” she asked hopefully. 
The other girls nodded in agreement, asking questions about the older boy with misplaced  enthusiasm. Regulus wrinkled his nose. McLaggen, really? Your roommate truly needed to raise her standards. He glanced over in your direction, snorting as he caught the tail end of your grimace. Clearly, you weren’t a fan either. 
After the girls were satisfied with their appearances, your roommate sauntered over to your desk with a friendly smile. “Would you like to come to the party with us, Y/N?” 
Before you could answer, one of the other girls rudely interrupted. “Oh no, Y/N doesn’t go to parties. She’s too shy.” 
Regulus vaguely recognized the annoyingly nasally tone of the speaker. He thought her name was Brandy or Brenda. Whichever one it was, she always hung around the quidditch team batting her eyelashes and laughing in an exaggerated way that bordered on deranged. It deeply irritated Regulus. 
“Isn’t that right, Y/N? Our little bookworm only prefers the company of her novels. No chance of embarrassing yourself in front of boys when they’re just words on paper.” 
“That’s mean, Britt,” scolded your roommate. 
Regulus very much wanted to scamper across the room and bite Britt’s ankles. He lifted his head up as you stood, mentally encouraging you to even the score by chucking a tome at that horrid girl’s head, but instead you simply smoothed down the front of your gingham dress and smiled. 
“Thanks for the offer, Mina, but I think I’ll stay in tonight. You girls have fun though.” 
The others were more than happy to flee the awkward tension in the room. You bid them goodbye at the door before closing it behind you. As it clicked into place, you released a sigh. Regulus tracked your movements as you swiped a book from the teetering tower on your nightstand before collapsing into bed. 
“God, what’s wrong with me?” You whispered softly to yourself. “It’s Friday night. I should be going out and partying, but instead I’m wallowing alone. No wonder everyone thinks I’m just a boring bookworm.”
Regulus voiced his disagreement. Unfortunately for him, the words came out as a series of meows. He blended in amongst the blankets, his whiskers barely peeking out from a distance. Unaware of his presence, you yelped at the strange cat peering at you from the reading nook. The noise startled Regulus, causing him to launch across the room and into the bed. 
“Oh, it’s just you.” You sat upright, cocking your head at him. Your fingers twitched at your side, probably itching to pet him. You restrained yourself, respecting his general aversion to humans. “If you’re here to bring me bad luck, then I’m sorry to say that I’ve got enough of that on my own already.” 
In protest, Regulus attempted to headbutt your hand, but it only resulted in an unintentional nuzzle. You chuckled in amusement before carefully patting his furry head. He dodged your hand and swiped at your leg, but the padding motions quickly turned to him just making biscuits on your thigh. 
You chuckled in response. “Hm, everyone says you’re a mean kitty, but I think you’re just a little misunderstood.” Regulus huffed, but his displeasure was short lived as you scratched under his chin. He was only slightly embarrassed at how eager he was to receive more. “Look at us, we make quite the pair.” 
At that, Regulus purred in agreement.
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From that night forward, Regulus became a frequent visitor. He hadn’t intended on making a habit of it, but every time Regulus accidentally transformed, he found himself in your dorm. It wasn’t his fault that it was warm and toasty and smelled like pastries. If you weren’t trying to attract a feral cat, you shouldn’t have made your room so inviting. 
During one of his visits, your roommate walked by and yelped at the sight of him. Regulus lifted his chin up in challenge as he claimed his rightful seat on your lap. “Is that the feral cat that almost took off Cedric’s fingers?” 
Regulus purred in answer. He was rather proud of that moment. Would’ve gotten away with it too had it not been for Diggory’s quick reflexes. 
You barely looked up from your book as you combed through his fur. “Mhm. He likes to follow me around sometimes. He’s like my little shadow.” A bright smile curved against your lips. “Oh, I think we found you a name. Shadow.” 
From then on, Regulus wore the name like a badge. The name seemed to awaken more of his animal instincts because his spontaneous transformations became a rather frequent occurrence. At the beginning, they were isolated to nights and thus easier to manage, but now his Animagus form seemed to have no respect for convenience. As of late, the transformations were happening more and more often with absolutely no rhyme or reason. 
The only common denominator seemed to be you. Every time Regulus was in his Animagus form, he sought you out. Whether he was interrupting Potions class to jump in your lap or resting next to you in the courtyard while you read, Regulus was resigned to the fact that he would end up in your proximity one way or another. He basked in the attention you showered him with, shamelessly nuzzling against your hand for more chin scratches and cuddles. It became a routine for the two of you. Most nights, you read in silence as he curled against you for warmth, but other nights, your inner monologue spilled out and he listened to you grapple with your shyness and anxiety. 
Funny, you didn’t seem all that reserved around him. But then again he had taken on the form of a grumpy yet harmless cat. You were none the wiser that Regulus Black was currently purring for more pets as you lamented over the events of the day. He listened intently, not quite understanding your desire to become more sociable. You seemed to view it as a deficiency, but Regulus had always leaned towards the extremities of introvertedness. Though in his case, no one batted an eye when he was abrupt and abrasive. It was just how he was. 
Hufflepuffs, on the other hand, were expected to be sunshine and butterflies. You were, Regulus thought. In your own quiet way, you radiated joy. It wasn’t loud or obnoxious or overbearing. It was just right. Regulus longed to tell you just as much, but it wasn’t like he was in a position to. Outside these late night talks, the two of you hardly spoke a word to one another. 
Perhaps it was time to change that. 
The first time Regulus tried to speak to you was a complete and utter disaster. 
It was bright and early on a Monday morning. You slipped into your seat a few minutes before the start of Charms. The two of you were always the first ones in class, so he figured it was an opportune time to strike up a conversation without overwhelming you. 
“How was your weekend?” 
You blinked up at him, surveying the room covertly as though you weren’t quite sure that he was speaking to you. Regulus watched you flush as you realized that he was indeed addressing the question to you.
“It was good,” you responded cautiously. “How was yours?” 
Regulus paused. “It was…fine.” 
Never in his life had he wanted to swan dive into the Black Lake and become fodder for the merpeople. The response was a natural conversation killer, but he couldn’t very well tell you that he spent the entire weekend lounging in your dorm as you read Pride and Prejudice for the umpteenth time. That little revelation probably would’ve resulted in a restraining order. 
The short and awkward dialogue made him cringe internally, but you simply smiled politely at him. For Salazar’s sake, where was the basilisk when Regulus needed it?
When lunch came around, he was still pondering the less than lackluster encounter. Regulus needed to find a way in. As his friends chattered and chatted, he stared intently across the Great Hall and watched you. Things were so much easier when you thought he was a cat. 
“Reg, mate, you haven’t blinked for like five minutes. You’re really starting to freak me out.” 
The annoying little quip from Nott brought Regulus out of his stupor. Had he truly been staring for that long? He hoped to Godric that you hadn’t caught him being an utter creep. A sly glance told him that you were none the wiser as you continued chatting with Luna Lovegood and Ginny Weasley. He turned to Theodore and frowned. 
“What are you staring at, anyways?” asked Mattheo. The curly headed git surveyed the room for the object of his friend’s focus, which only made Regulus more irate. 
“Nothing,” Regulus mumbled. 
Riddle, ever the menace, grinned as he spotted you. “Doesn’t look like nothing to me.” 
He elbowed Theo, who smirked once he too caught sight of you. “Say, Reggie, don’t you have Charms with that cute little Hufflepuff?” 
“Shut it, Nott.” 
“Whoa, a little touchy there, aren’t we? No need to fret. I won’t turn my Italian charms on her. After all, I wouldn’t dare go after one of my mate’s crushes.” 
Regulus bristled. “I do not have a crush.” 
“Sure, mate, and I’m Harry bloody Potter,” scoffed Mattheo. “You’re not fooling anyone, you know.” 
“Does this conversation have a purpose besides showcasing your remarkable skill of grating my nerves?” 
“Aw, Reggie’s upset.” Mattheo and Theodore chuckled as Regulus stood abruptly. He flung the napkin onto his plate and walked off without explanation. “Don’t worry, mate. We won’t tell anyone about your secret girlfriend.”
Unfortunately for Regulus, the childish teasing gained traction over the next few days. Trust Nott and Riddle to be a general nuisance to his everyday life. Every time you walked past Regulus in the halls, his friends (debatable as of late) would nudge him and smirk. Given that Mattheo and Theo possessed the subtlety of a bull in a china shop, you were definitely beginning to notice. 
Even worse, Lorenzo had taken it upon himself to chat you up in the courtyard. Regulus looked on in horror as his best friend laughed and gesticulated alongside you on the bench. His presence had not gone unnoticed by their fellow classmates. A crowd of Hufflepuffs began crowding near your usual spot under the willow tree and Regulus could easily spot the tell-tale signs of your anxiety blooming. He needed to put an end to this. 
“Berkshire, can I talk to you for a second?” 
Lorenzo appeared completely unbothered as he nodded. “Sure, just let me wrap up here. Reg, you’ve met Y/N, right? She was kind enough to lend me notes for History of Magic.” 
You looked up and gave Regulus a shy wave. The desire to throttle Lorenzo diminished by a few notches. “Sorry about him. Berkshire’s a bit overeager. Not fully trained, you see.” 
His friend protested the accusation. “Hey, I’m standing right here!” 
Regulus ignored his protests. Lorenzo might as well have been halfway across the world with how little attention he paid to his friend. He was far too busy being enamored with the way you tried to bite back a grin.
“Thank you for indulging him. I’ll make sure he doesn’t go off leash again.” 
You chuckled. “It’s alright, really. I’ve got a habit of attracting strays.” 
“Where is that little monster of yours, anyways? Busy clawing off some unsuspecting student’s face?” Lorenzo quipped. 
“Shadow isn’t so bad. He’s actually very sweet, once you get to know him.”
Regulus tried not to grin. 
Lorenzo shot him a knowing look. “Sounds like someone else I know.” 
Regulus rolled his eyes. “Sorry again about him. I’ll make sure he returns your notes.” He tugged Lorenzo by the collar. “Now let’s go, Berkshire. We’re going to be late for practice.” 
“Bye, Y/N!” Lorenzo called over his shoulder. “Don’t be a stranger.” 
“Bye, Lorenzo,” you said with an amused smile. “I’ll see you in class, Regulus.” 
Regulus couldn’t help but smile. “See you in class, Y/N.” 
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Thanks to his meddlesome friends, Regulus kept finding himself in less than ideal situations. The twats seemed determined to force you two together. Lorenzo, most of all. 
Every time they studied in the library, you seemed to conveniently be seated a few desks away. Every time they were walking back from quidditch practice, you coincidentally seemed to be headed to the greenhouse. Every time Lorenzo fetched something in his locker, you just so happened to be walking by between classes. 
It was during one of these times that Regulus overheard Britt making snippy little comments about your dresses and bows, commenting on how you were always lost in your books, even citing the fact that the feral cat had taken a liking to you because birds of a feather flock together. Your roommate defended you, but she was a lone voice amongst the other mindless girls who laughed along with Britt. The next time Regulus ran into her in his cat form, he made sure to hiss and claw at her. 
In terms of finding his way in, Regulus had yet to crack the code. When it was just you and your Shadow, you spoke to him for hours and hours. But when he was actually himself, you were so quiet and reserved. 
“Why don’t you just talk to her?” Lorenzo offered. 
The glare Regulus cut his way was sharper than a splicing spell. “I’ve tried, but I’m terrible at it. I asked her about the weather, Enzo. The bloody weather!” 
To his credit, Lorenzo didn’t laugh. Instead, he seemed deep in thought. “You’ve got to find out what she’s passionate about. What’s something that she could talk about for hours and hours?” 
Regulus bolted out of his chair, startling Lorenzo. “You’re a genius, Berkshire.” 
His friend looked utterly confused. “Thanks, I suppose?” 
Half an hour later, Regulus found himself standing in a labyrinth. Plot Twist, the largest bookstore in the village, was as magical as you described it to be. Each aisle was filled to the brim with books, the shelves winding and twisting in on itself to reveal even more volumes. Soft classical music played throughout the shop, its interior filled with kitschy trinkets and illuminated by enchanted candles.
If Regulus recalled correctly, the latest installment of your favorite series just recently released. You mentioned it to Ginny in the Great Hall last week while he lounged on your lap. Was it ethical to eavesdrop on your conversations and use the information he gleaned to grow closer to you? Perhaps not, but he couldn’t help it. Cunning was in his nature. There was a reason Regulus was sorted into Slytherin, after all.
So here he was on a Friday afternoon, looking absolutely engrossed in the romance section of the bookstore. Regulus picked up a novel from the display. One of your favorites, of course. 
From the corner of his eye, Regulus glimpsed your entrance into the store. Naturally, you were headed in his direction since romance was your preferred guilty pleasure. He pretended to skim through the summary despite the fact that he already read the book in its entirety. When you were reading it back in your dorm, you blushed so much that he had to see what the fuss was about for himself. 
“Oh, that’s a really good one,” you said shyly. 
“Yeah?” Regulus asked, noting the pretty flush dusting your cheeks. “Have you read it before?” 
“About a thousand times.” 
“What’s the verdict, then? Would you recommend it to me?” 
You cocked your head in observation, taking him in. Regulus was acutely aware that he didn’t fit the usual demographic of romance novel readers. Hell, even his all black ensemble clashed with the vibrant book covers. 
“I know, I know. I have the looks of someone who would rather binge murder mysteries, but I’m trying to branch out.” 
The grin you gave him made his heart stutter. “Well, I’d be more than happy to be your guide.” 
Regulus had no idea why he hadn’t realized it sooner. Books—that was the gateway to your heart. He listened in fascination as you pulled books from the shelves, talking a mile a minute about your favorite authors, characters, and tropes. You lit up the entire room as you spoke, filling the place with your infectious energy. He had only ever seen you this way in the comfort of your own dorm, so he relished in the fact that he was witnessing this not as Shadow but as Regulus. 
“Oh my god, I’ve been rambling. I’m so sorry. Once I start, I just can’t seem to stop.” 
He smiled softly. Regulus could have listened to you talk about books for the rest of his life and never grow bored. “I don’t want you to stop. I like that you’re so passionate. It’s adorable.” 
Suddenly, Regulus wished he had a camera because the sight of you smiling up at him was a memory that needed to be captured and immortalized. For now, he settled for its dizzying aftereffects. 
“Thank you for letting me talk your ear off,” you said shyly as the two of you made your way to the counter. 
“No, thank you for helping me expand my horizons.” Regulus countered as he set both of your books down. 
You started to fish for your wallet, but Regulus simply waved you off. “Please, let me.” The shopkeeper gaped at him. “Would you mind putting everything on my tab?” 
“Of course, Mr. Black.” 
“Regulus is fine.” 
“Sure thing Mr.—I mean, Regulus.” 
As the shopkeeper carefully packed up the books, Regulus leaned in. “You can call me Reg, if you’d like. Reggie, if you’re feeling particularly brave.” 
You beamed. “Thank you, Reggie.” 
“You’re welcome, Y/N.” 
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The Monday after the breakthrough, Regulus marched into Charms with purpose. You glanced up in amusement as he settled into his seat. 
“You were right. Your recommendations were fantastic. I read it all in one sitting.” 
“Which one?” you asked curiously. 
Back at the bookstore, you had gotten a little overzealous with the recommendations, but at the end, you managed to narrow it down to your absolute top picks. 
“All of them.” 
Your jaw nearly dropped. “You read all of them?” 
Regulus shrugged as if it were no big deal. “Yes.”
“Every single book?” 
“Mhm.”
“But I gave you six recommendations,” you stated incredulously. You considered yourself a voracious reader, but Regulus Black was giving you a run for your money. 
“And I devoured every single one.” 
As it turns out, that was all it took to unlock the floodgates. Soon your conversations flourished from books and literature to hobbies and future plans. Regulus could tell that you were warming up to him. The conversations that were once isolated to the Charms classroom flowed easily outside of it as well.
The first few times you were spotted together, it turned a few heads. 
Regulus had never been particularly known for his sociability, so he supposed it was a rather strange sight for everyone else to find him practically glued to your side. Never mind that he’d done it a hundred times before as your Shadow and no one ever said a word about it back then. As he spotted you in your usual spot under the willow tree, he found that he really didn’t give a damn what anyone else thought of your newfound friendship. 
“Is this seat taken?” 
You nodded as you moved your belongings to make room for him. “Yes, by you.” 
Regulus dropped his backpack by his feet before stretching his long legs out on the wooden bench. You watched in amusement as the wood creaked under his weight. “I prefer to be horizontal when I read. You don’t mind, do you?” 
“Knock yourself out, Mr. Black.”
“That’s Regulus to you, love.” 
“I thought it was Reg.” 
“Actually, I prefer Reggie. But only if it’s being used by you.” 
“Okay, Reggie.” 
He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips. 
Despite spending time with you during the day, Regulus still made his visits in the night. He truly just couldn’t get enough. Thanks to his questionable methods, you were starting to open up to him more. Just that morning, the two of you ate breakfast together in the Great Hall. You teased him for eating such a bland meal. 
“Honestly, Regulus. We attend a magical school. You could ask for anything your little heart desires and you choose to eat gruel?” 
“It’s not gruel. It’s oatmeal.” 
“My point exactly.” 
“What’s wrong with oatmeal?” 
“Nothing, I suppose. If you prefer eating cement for breakfast.” 
“You’re awfully judgmental. Let’s take a closer look at your choices. A chocolate chip muffin? You might as well swallow a spoonful of sugar and call it a day.” 
“My apologies, Mr. Black. I forgot that you abhor flavor. Shall we share your cement goop, then?” 
“After you insulted my culinary preferences? I think not, Y/N.” 
Needless to say, the two of you got along like a house on fire. Both of your friends constantly teased you about the newfound friendship. Regulus simply rolled his eyes and brushed off the comments, but even his mates noticed the way he smiled every time you were mentioned. You knew your friends were bursting at the seams with questions regarding Regulus, but to their credit, Ginny and Luna were happy seeing you happy. 
Not everyone shared their enthusiasm though. Britt, in particular, was rather cross. It made no sense that someone like you would catch the attention of Regulus Black. She had harbored a crush on the youngest Black since third year and he could barely even spare her a glance, yet here you were receiving his full and undivided attention. Britt was seething with jealousy. She simply could not accept losing to you, of all people. 
Perhaps you dosed Regulus with a love potion. Perhaps he pitied you, viewed you as some wounded animal to save. Either way, Britt was convinced that Regulus wasn’t meant to be with someone like you. A shy and quiet girl who could never hope to hold his attention for long. She just had to make Regulus see it. The perfect opportunity presented itself one Friday afternoon.
In the crowded hall, Regulus shielded you from the incoming traffic of students rushing to their next class. It wasn’t much of an effort on his part since your fellow classmates cowered and parted as soon as they caught sight of your companion’s scowl.
“Reggie, could you try not to scare the first years away?” You teased, bumping your hip against his. “Poor Anderson looked ready to cry when you glared at him.” 
Regulus bumped you back. “He nearly stepped on your foot.” 
“Did that really warrant you threatening to hide bullfrogs underneath his pillows?” 
“You’re right, I’ve gone soft. I should’ve threatened him with fire serpents instead.” 
“You’re hopeless, Regulus.” 
Regulus placed a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. “You wound me, ma chérie.” 
The nickname made you flush. Regulus had never been more thankful that French was his native tongue. The language of love certainly had its effect on you. 
“However will you live?” 
“I’ll tell you what, if you come keep me company tonight, then all will be forgiven.” 
“I’m not helping you sneak bullfrogs into Anderson’s dorm.” 
He pouted in response. “Fine. I suppose we can have a quiet night in. Come join the dark side. We can read together in the common room.” 
“The dungeons?” You asked apprehensively. 
Though you’ve gotten used to the occasional Slytherin greeting you in the halls, the whole lot of them still terrified you. You weren’t quite sure how you felt about marching right into the serpent’s nest. 
“It’ll just be us,” Regulus added softly. “I’ll make sure of it.” 
The way he eased your worries was endearing. You bumped his hip again. “You can’t just kick people out of their own common room.”
“I’m Regulus Black,” he said haughtily. “Of course I can.” Regulus draped an arm over your shoulder and leaned in to whisper conspiratorially. “Come on, I know you’re dying to read that new novel you bought last weekend.” 
You rolled your eyes affectionately. He knew you too well. “You mean, the novel that you bought me. Against my will, thank you very much. I will pay you back.” Regulus started protesting, but you only held your hand up. “You’re right, though. I’m convinced. I’ll bring the snacks. Chocolate frogs for me and a bowl of gruel for you.” 
You yelped as Regulus dug his fingers into your side. “It’s a date, love.” 
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Regulus paced back and forth, watching the door to the dungeons. To say he was nervous would’ve been an understatement. 
As soon as classes were dismissed for the day, Regulus wasted no time. He raced back to the common room and made sure everything was perfect. The boys were taking the piss out of him, but he paid no mind to them as he fluffed the pillows and draped a blanket over the couch. 
“Ooh, what type of candle is this?” Theo asked as he wrapped his grimy little fingers around the banana nut muffin scented candle. 
Regulus smacked his friend’s hand away. “Don’t touch that.” 
Mattheo snickered as he took in the scene before him. “You must really like this girl, Reg. I don’t think I’ve ever put in this much effort for a date.” 
“Yeah, and how’s that working out for you?” Regulus snipped. Blaise and Pansy snorted in response. 
Lorenzo bit back a smile. “I think it’s nice. Y/N will love it.” 
“You think so?” Regulus asked absentmindedly. He wanted to make sure everything was perfect. The dungeons were a far cry from your dorm, but Regulus did his best to emulate the comfort it provided. “It’s not too much?” 
“It’s a bit…cozy for my taste,” said Draco. Regulus fought the urge to throttle his cousin. To be fair, Draco hated anything that wasn’t French or expensive. “But I’m sure your girl will love it.” 
“She’s not my girl,” Regulus corrected. “Not yet, at least.” 
Tom shot a disinterested glance at him from the couch. “What on earth are you waiting for? You’ve been pining over her for months. Your yearning is starting to sicken me.” 
Mattheo grimaced. “I think that’s Tom’s way of encouraging you to make a move.” 
“Consider me encouraged,” Regulus said with an eye roll. “Now everyone get out.” 
As his friends filtered out, Lorenzo patted him on the back. “Good luck, mate.” 
Luck had nothing to do with it. Regulus refused to take his chances on such a finicky thing. He was far too resourceful to leave things up to chance. Instead, he compiled everything he’s learned about you to ensure that you wouldn’t feel overwhelmed. 
At exactly six o’clock on the dot, Regulus opened the door to the dungeons. He smiled when he found you standing in the corridor, fidgeting with the hem of your sunflower dress. You clutched your book to your chest as he stepped through the threshold. 
“Hi, Reg,” you greeted shyly. 
“Hi, love.” Regulus offered his arm, which you gladly took. “Come on in.” 
You weren’t sure what to expect at first, but you found the dungeons to be quite cozy. The waves from the Black Lake gently lapped against the stained glass windows, the murky waters shimmering across the onyx floors. The furnishings were all dark wood and harsh lines with pops of emerald tying everything together. The velvet couch was piled with pillows and candles illuminated the space, providing a warmth and coziness that you never would’ve attributed to the dungeons. 
“This is quite lovely,” you said softly. 
Regulus took your bag from you and set it gently on the marble side table. “I’m glad you think so.” 
“Where’s everyone else?” 
“Out,” Regulus responded. “If they’re smart, they’ll stay that way.” 
You chuckled. “I guess it pays to be mean and scary.” 
“To everyone else, yes.” Regulus said as he guided you over to the couch. “Not to you, though.”
The sentiment made you smile. “Well, big scary Reggie, thank you for inviting me over. As promised, I came bearing snacks.” 
As you laid out a treasure trove of treats, Regulus watched with an amused smile. “For Salazar’s sake, I’m getting a cavity just looking at all of this candy.” 
You grinned as you waved a sour gummy worm in the air. “But it’s good, though.” Regulus backed away from the neon colored candy with a grimace. “Come on, Reg. Try it.” 
“No, thank you.” 
“Please,” you pleaded, poking his cheek with the worm. “Just one little nibble. I know you want to.” 
“You’re a terrible influence,” he sighed defeatedly. 
Regulus leaned over, his lips brushing against your fingers as he took a small bite. You flushed furiously, heat prickling your skin as his emerald gaze pierced through you. From this close, you could make out the golden flecks swimming in his irises. 
“It’s a bit sweet,” Regulus murmured. His eyes never left yours as he held your wrist in place, devouring what was left of the sour worm. “But I’ve grown an appetite for sweet things lately.” 
Regulus licked flecks of sugar off of his lips, smirking when he caught you staring. You cleared your throat, eager to diffuse whatever tension was brewing between you. He tracked your movements as you retrieved your book and daintily perched yourself on the couch. 
“Shall we?” 
A comfortable silence befell the common room, broken only by the lulling crash of the waves against the windows. It baffled you how at ease you were in the dungeons. Usually, it took a bit of time for you to adjust to new environments, but something about this place seemed familiar. You felt safe here, thanks to the boy sitting beside you. 
As you curled up on the sofa, Regulus assumed his position. He scooted towards you, placing his head on your lap and stretching his long legs out until they touched the other end of the couch. With a smile, you peered at him as he nuzzled against your free hand. Regulus sighed in satisfaction when you ran your fingers through his curls. The action reminded you of your little Shadow. 
You had no idea how you hadn’t realized it sooner, but the two of them were similar in a lot of ways. They were both standoffish and prickly on the outside, but complete softies on the inside. The thought made you chuckle. 
“What’s so funny?” Regulus murmured. Despite the fact that the two of you were supposed to be reading, his book remained perched on his stomach while his eyes fluttered close. 
“It’s just hard to reconcile grumpy Regulus to the Regulus that practically begs for his head to be scratched.”
Regulus scoffed. “I do not beg.” 
You placed your hand back in your lap. Regulus furrowed his brows as he glanced up at you. With a soft nudge to your side and a matching pout to boot, he single handedly proved your point. “Why’d you stop?” 
The pointed look you gave him made Regulus flush. “Fine, I suppose I’m not above begging.” 
You raised a brow, which only made him sigh in defeat. Regulus lifted your hand and placed it back atop his curls. “Please?” 
“Only because you asked nicely, Reggie.” 
The rest of the evening was blissfully peaceful as the two of you continued reading. Well, you were reading. Regulus, on the other hand, hadn’t even cracked open his book. You could feel the intensity of his gaze boring into you while you pretended to be engrossed in your novel. 
“Do I have something on my face?” You asked self-consciously. 
“No.” 
“Then why are you staring?” 
Regulus sat upright and faced you, his emerald eyes locking onto yours. His expression was soft as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, knuckles brushing along your jaw. 
“Because you’re beautiful.” 
The air left your lungs as Regulus beheld you. The calluses on his thumb stroked your skin as he caressed your cheek. You shivered at his touch, at his scent, at his closeness. Regulus was like poetry come to life. A work of art that moved and breathed and mesmerized everyone around him. If anyone was beautiful, it was him. 
“Reggie…” 
The words died in your throat when Regulus brushed his thumb over your lips. “Y/N…” 
Little by little, the gap closed between you. Anticipation swelled in the room, enveloping everything with unspoken tension. You felt like a harp string pulled taut, waiting for release. Just as Regulus tilted your head back, a loud smack echoed through the dungeons. 
You nearly jumped out of your seat, but Regulus shielded you behind him, keeping you close. A stream of people made their way through the common room, trampling the once serene atmosphere. The commotion from earlier seemed to be coming from the large keg that Adrian Pucey was now rolling across the stone floor. The other Slythering began clearing the furniture, chattering excitedly amongst themselves. 
Regulus was incensed. “What the fuck is going on?” 
One by one, his friends streamed in. Blaise was the first to squeeze through the crowd. “Common room party, apparently. We ran here to warn you, but they were already rolling the kegs through the corridor before we caught up.” 
Theodore and Mattheo pushed their way through a couple of fourth years. At their complaint, the two boys glared at them so intensely that they slowly started to back away. 
“The fuck are you looking at?” Mattheo barked. 
“Are you deaf or just thick? Get fucking lost, mate,” Theo added menacingly. 
You flinched at the display of aggression. Regulus clocked the reaction and pulled you closer before frowning at his friends. Theodore elbowed Mattheo when he caught sight of you, who in turn elbowed Theodore back. 
“Sorry about that, Y/N.” Theodore drawled, his Italian accent seeping through the words. “We didn’t see you there. Usually, we’re more well-behaved in the presence of a lady.” 
“That’s a lie,” Pansy interjected. “You’re horrid around me all the time.” 
“I’ve known you since we were in diapers, Pans. You’re certainly not a lady,” Theodore quipped. 
“Why, you little twat—” 
“Guys,” Regulus scolded. 
Pansy stopped in her tracks, sighing as she put her hand down after landing a smack on the back of Theodore’s head. She offered her hand. “Right. Well, this isn’t how we thought our first introduction would go, but it’s nice to finally meet the infamous Y/N. Regulus talks about you all the time.” 
You flushed as you took Pansy’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you too, Pansy.” 
“Me next,” Theodore exclaimed. “Theodore Nott, at your service.” 
The floppy haired boy bowed cheekily before taking your hand in his and kissing your knuckles. Regulus glared daggers at his friend, but you merely giggled in amusement. 
“Move, Nott. It’s my turn now.” Mattheo smacked Theodore away and enveloped you into a hug. “Mattheo, the most handsome Riddle. Although don’t tell my brother that. He might hex me. Anyways, nice to meet you." He paused, sniffing your hair unabashedly. "Oh! Reg is right. You do smell nice.” 
“Riddle,” warned Regulus.
Mattheo only winked at you before stepping aside. You exchanged introductions with Blaise and Draco next until Lorenzo caught up with the rest of the group. He gave you a warm hug before explaining that someone had printed out posters promoting a party that none of the Slytherins had any clue about. Of course, it didn’t take much convincing on his housemates' part before they jumped on the bandwagon, hence the packed common room. 
“I’m so sorry,” Regulus said as he turned over to face you. “ I didn’t know any of this was happening.”
Worry marred his beautiful face. Though the situation was a little more than overwhelming, you didn’t want Regulus worrying on your behalf. It was touching, truly. But you could try to push through it. 
“It’s okay, Reg. I’m fine, really.” 
“We can leave,” he offered. “Find somewhere more quiet.” 
“Already?” Mattheo asked, pouting. “But we haven’t even played butterbeer pong yet! Dibs on Y/N as my partner.” 
“No fair! I was going to ask her,” Theodore said, shoving Mattheo. His curly headed friend shoved back, which only escalated into Theodore putting him into a headlock. You shook your head in amusement. 
“Sorry to disappoint, but I have no idea how to play butterbeer pong.” 
Mattheo slithered out of Theodore’s hold and beamed. “Oh, it’s easy. You just arrange a bunch of cups into a pyramid and then take turns shooting ping pong balls into them. Surely, you’ve handled balls before, right?” 
The double meaning was not lost on the group. Regulus tensed, charging up to smack Mattheo into next week for the inappropriate joke, but your response stopped him in his tracks. 
“I have,” you said softly. “Have you? Because it doesn’t seem like it from the way you kept missing the goalposts during the game last week.” 
Mattheo gaped in shock before bursting into laughter. “Oh, she’s a keeper.” 
“You’re lucky Y/N found that funny,” Regulus said to his friend. “Otherwise, I would’ve twisted your intestines into a bow for her.” 
“Taking a page out of my brother’s book, I see,” Mattheo taunted. 
“Is this a bad time to ask if you’ve ever had a body shot, Y/N?” Theo asked with feigned innocence. “If not, I’m more than willing to show you.” 
Regulus reeled back and smacked Theo on the head while the rest of the group cackled. Theo rubbed the sore spot and grumbled. “A simple no would have sufficed.” 
The more time you spent around them, the less intimidating they became. From what you gleaned, they seemed to be a tight knit group. It wasn’t at all what you expected from the Slytherins. 
“Your friends are silly,” you whispered to Regulus as the group migrated to the couch. 
In the background, Mattheo and Theodore bickered over who drank the last of the firewhisky while Lorenzo wiped the back of his mouth and burped. He winked when he caught your eye, charging you with keeping his secret. 
“They’re idiots,” Regulus scoffed. His tone was contrasted by the softness in his eyes as he watched his friends muck about. “But they’re family.” 
Throughout the night, you didn’t miss the way that Regulus fussed over you. He was a constant presence by your side, attuned and attentive to every need. When you felt parched, Regulus was there to offer you a drink. When you felt cold, Regulus draped his jacket over you without you needing to ask. He checked in with you often, making sure his obnoxious friends weren’t offending you and ensuring that the attention wasn’t too overwhelming to handle. 
You assured him that you were fine. In fact, you were surprised to realize that you were enjoying yourself. It was a lot easier to deal with your social anxiety when you had someone there to ground you. 
The Slytherins were a rather social bunch. Pansy was thrilled at the prospect of having another girl join the group. Within thirty minutes, she had talked you into going to Hogsmeade with her next weekend. She wanted a break from the boys, she said. But she also made it known that she expected a full rundown of the situation between you and Regulus. 
Draco and Blaise were very clearly eavesdropping, despite their efforts to appear nonchalant. Apparently, everyone was as invested in your pairing as Pansy was. Theodore and Mattheo didn’t even try to hide the fact that they were talking Regulus up. When Mattheo declared that Regulus rescued an injured baby bird and nursed it back to health, you nearly lost it. Regulus hated birds. 
“You’re an idiot,” Regulus exclaimed. 
“No, let him talk. I want to hear all about it. What kind of bird was it, Mattheo?” 
“Uh…the kind with wings?” 
Lorenzo shook his head. “Really, mate? That’s the best you could come up with?” 
The group continued their bantering as you watched in fascination. Their dynamic fascinated you. They bickered like siblings, but you could tell that they would go to the end of the world for one another. You could see why Regulus thought of them as family. 
“Feeling okay?” Regulus asked, nudging you with his hip. 
“Mhm,” you responded, bumping him back. “Thanks for inviting me over.” 
“This isn’t what I had in mind when I did,” Regulus said. “But I’m still glad you came.”
“Of course, I had to see you in your natural habitat. I didn’t know you were such a party animal, Reggie.” 
He grabbed hold of your waist and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “I preferred when the party was just you and me.” 
You flushed, pitching forward to hide your face behind a curtain of hair. “I did, too.” 
“When everyone leaves, I intend on picking up where we left off. You should know that I’m not the type of man who leaves things unfinished, love.” 
There was no hiding the blush that blossomed on your cheeks. Crimson colored your features even as you excused yourself to the bathroom. As you washed your hands in the sink, you studied your reflection. While you would always feel the lingering social anxiety that came from being in large crowds, you thought that tonight was going fairly well. With a smile, you made your return back to the Regulus. 
“I don’t know who you’re fooling, Y/N.” Britt sneered at you as she leaned against the wall, a cigarette held haphazardly between her neon painted fingers. 
You frowned. “What are you talking about, Britt?” 
“Regulus may have fallen for your shy and sweet little act, but he’ll get sick and tired of you dragging him down sooner or later.” 
A lump formed in the pit of your stomach. Though it was no secret that Britt wasn’t exactly a fan of yours, you hadn’t expected her to say such hurtful things. Even worse, she touched a nerve with her words. 
Britt nodded pointedly towards the crowd. “Look at him. He can’t even enjoy himself without worrying about poor, helpless little Y/N.”
Regulus towered over everyone, cutting an imposing figure in the middle of the room. His eyes darted through the crowd, seemingly searching for someone. Perhaps it was the reality of seeing the worry in his features, his half-distracted responses to whatever Lorenzo was saying as he stood stoic, unable to partake in conversation because he was too busy looking for you. Worrying about you. However horrid Britt was, you realized that there was merit to her words. 
The last thing you wanted was to hold Regulus back. You didn’t want him worrying about babysitting you instead of having fun with his friends, which is exactly what he was doing now. The thought made you sad. Sure, Regulus was fine with catering to your needs now, but he was bound to tire of it sooner or later. You didn’t want to find out how long it would take. 
You didn’t want to be a burden to anyone. Most of all, Regulus. 
Without a word, you passed by Britt and weaved your way through the room. You stuck to the alcoves, passing beneath its shadowy refuge until the door came to view. Only a few steps stood between you and your escape when a low, stern voice stopped you in your tracks. 
“Y/N,” said Tom Riddle. “Leaving early, are we?” 
“Oh, hi there Tom,” you mumbled, casting your gaze towards the floor. You were afraid that you’d cry if you stayed in the dungeons a second longer. “M’just not feeling very well.” 
You could feel his observant gaze sweeping over you. “I imagined you wouldn’t after encountering that hag outside of the bathroom.” 
“You saw that?” You asked in a small, defeated voice. 
Finally, you deigned to look up and found Tom staring at you. As always, the eldest Riddle was cold and stoic, but there was something in his gaze that conveyed concern. 
“Yes, and I heard it too.” 
“Please, can you��can you just not tell Reggie?” 
Tom’s expression was imperceptible besides his curt nod. “If that’s what you prefer. I’ll let him know you left early because you weren’t feeling well.” 
“Thank you, Tom.” 
You bid him a good night before reaching for the door. Behind you, Tom cleared his throat. 
“For the record, that hag doesn’t know what she’s talking about. You’re not dragging Regulus down. If anything, you’ve made the twat more tolerable over these past few weeks.” 
Before you could respond, Tom was gone. You barely caught a glimpse of his back as he climbed the stairs that led to the dormitories. The parting surprised you, but you figured that Tom probably just felt bad for witnessing the conversation between you and Britt. 
Casting a last glance towards the common room, you spotted Regulus once again. 
Softly, you whispered, “Bye, Reggie.” 
Once you were back in your dorm, you showered and decided to turn in for the night. It was just a few minutes shy of midnight as you tossed and turned in bed. Your roommate was most likely still at the party, leaving you to ponder your thoughts alone. There was an air of restlessness in the room as you stared up at the ceiling and considered your predicament. 
No matter which way you looked at it, there was only one solution. You had to end your friendship with Regulus. 
The thought filled you with overwhelming sadness. Letting go of Regulus made you feel so isolated and alone, but you knew it was the right thing to do. As though sensing your need for comfort, Shadow slinked through your door and hopped right into your lap. The black cat stared up at you with knowing eyes and meowed. 
“At least I can count on you to always keep me company,” you murmured softly as you scratched under Shadow’s chin. “It’s been a rough night.” 
Shadow bumped his head against your hip, seemingly telling you to stop feeling sorry for yourself. 
“Britt is right, Shadow,” you confessed. “I’m just not the type of girl Regulus should be with.” 
The cat bumped you again, stomping his feet on the bed in frustration. Shadow gave you a rather argumentative meow. 
“Oh, don’t give me that. We both know it’s true. Reggie is Reggie and I’m…well, I’m me.” 
Shadow hissed in response, demanding your attention. You sighed as you pulled the cat into your lap. “It’s a shame,” you whispered against his dark fur. “I really like him.” 
To your surprise, Shadow purred softly and cuddled against your side. Though the feral little cat had taken a liking to you and your dorm, Shadow was always usually gone in the morning. Tonight though, the cat curled up next to you as though it knew that this was what you needed. 
“Good night, Shadow.” 
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Regulus knew it was reckless. 
But after Tom informed him of your sudden illness, suspicion rose in him like a tide. Even if you weren’t feeling well, it wasn’t like you to leave so abruptly, which meant that something was definitely wrong. All of his suspicions were confirmed when he got to your dorm.
It broke his heart to hear you say that you weren’t right for him. How could such a thought even cross your mind? There had never been anyone more perfect to him than you. Didn’t you know that you were the first person Regulus looked for in a room full of people? Couldn’t you tell how head over heels he was for you? His sweet, sassy, shy, sunshine of a Hufflepuff. There was no one better. 
Certainly not Britt. Regulus was well aware of the crush she had on him. At first, he simply ignored it. He had absolutely no interest in someone as foul and loathsome as that girl, but now that she had come after you, Regulus had half a mind to sink his teeth and claws into her ankles until he drew blood. 
At the moment, his plot for revenge was set aside as he focused on comforting you. Up until this point, Regulus had always been careful not to fall asleep in your dorm because he never knew when he was going to switch back, but tonight, he was willing to risk it. He didn’t know if this would be the last time you ever spoke to him given what you confessed earlier. 
Perhaps it was selfish of him, but he didn’t want the night to end. Regulus wasn't ready to face the prospect of you ending things, so he snuggled into your side and fell asleep to the sound of your heartbeat. 
It was a choice that would certainly have its consequences in the morning.
The first thing that woke him up was not the sunlight streaming through your windows or the chirping of the birds, but instead your surprised yelp. Regulus blinked sleepily, rubbing his paw against his snout, but instead bumped his hand into his nose. 
This was not good. 
This was definitely not good. 
You were on the other side of the bed, blankets pulled up over your chin as you stared at him in disbelief. 
“Reggie? What—what are you doing here?” 
Regulus was an idiot. A stupid, careless idiot. 
But none of that mattered now. 
“Don’t end our friendship.” 
You reeled back in surprise. “I—what—what’s even happening—”
“Don’t end our friendship,” Regulus said once more. “Fuck, it’s not even a friendship. You and I both know it’s so much more than that.” 
“I don’t understand.” 
“I’m not going to get bored of you. Never in a million years would I ever get bored of you. In the months that I’ve gotten to know you, not once have I ever stopped feeling drawn in. I want to know everything about you, Y/N. Even though you tell me everything without realizing it, I still want to know more. I want to listen to you talk about your books and hold your hand when you’re overwhelmed and follow you all around the castle like I’ve been doing all along.” 
You were speechless as Regulus continued. “Tom told me that you weren’t feeling well last night. I knew it was a lie, so I had to come and see for myself. I had to make sure you were okay, even if you didn’t know it was me.” He sighed, closing his eyes. “But then you said you wanted to end our friendship and I just—I was selfish. I should’ve gone back to my dorm, but I didn’t know if last night was the last time you’d ever speak to me and I just couldn’t bring myself to leave.” 
Realization dawned over you. Pieces of the puzzle started clicking into place. “You’re—you—you’ve been Shadow this whole time?” 
Regulus nodded guiltily. “I understand if you’re angry with me, but please know that I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I found your dorm by accident that first night and I don’t know. I just kept coming back. You just kept drawing me back.” 
He bowed his head and ran a hand through his curls. “I realize you might hate me after this, but you have been the best part of my day since I accidentally stumbled into your dorm and I think—no, I know that I’ve fallen for you.” 
You blinked in disbelief, still processing his confession. “So you’ve been…you this whole time? You knew everything I’ve ever said to Shadow. You listened to me vent and rant, thinking I was just talking to a cat.” You paused as something niggled at your brain. “When we first ran into each other at the bookstore, did you already know I was going to be there?” 
Regulus didn't deny it. “I did. I also already read all of the books on your shelves in advance on the off chance that you might mention it in class. I didn't really need help in charms, that was just an excuse to spend more time with you and I...I bought the same candles and blankets you like so you'd be comfortable in the common room. I learned all of that by listening to you, by spying on you, and I'm sorry. I’m so fucking sorry —" 
His apology was cut short as you surged forward to kiss him. Regulus was stunned for a moment as your lips met, but it didn’t take long for him to reciprocate. One arm slid around your waist to pull you closer while the other cradled your cheek. His kisses were hungry, like he was a man awaiting the gallows and you were his final meal. It was full of passion, the longing and yearning evident as he gorged himself on the taste of you. 
Coming up for air, Regulus finally opened his pretty emerald eyes and looked at you. His gaze pierced through your skin, raw and vulnerable. “You’re not mad at me?” 
“Are you kidding? That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” Regulus sighed in relief, pressing his forehead against yours. “Plus, how can I be mad when you make such a cute little kitty?” 
Regulus laughed, the sweet, melodious sound filling the room. You brushed his curls back and grinned. “For the record, I’ve fallen for you too.” 
“That’s a relief. My friends have been pestering me on finally making a move for months. Pansy cornered me last night and lectured me on asking you to be my girlfriend before you realize that you’re too good for me.” 
“I think I like Pansy.” 
“Don’t tell her that,” Regulus groaned. “She’ll definitely try to steal you away from me.” 
“I don’t think you’ll have any trouble with that.” 
“Good, I don’t want Parkinson getting any ideas about running off with my girlfriend.” 
You raised a brow. “Oh, I’m your girlfriend now?” 
“Girlfriend. Love of my life. Apple of my eye. Take your pick, mon cœur.” 
“I’ll take all of the above, boyfriend.” 
Later that morning, after much cuddling and kissing, you and Regulus finally decided to head to the Great Hall for breakfast. You smiled as he held your hand, bumping your hip as the two of you walked through the corridors. It was strange how at ease you felt. You were vaguely aware of the eyes that trailed your every move, but they quickly blended into the background when Regulus pulled you close and kissed your cheek. 
Luna and Ginny perked up at the sight of you, surprise marring their faces when they spotted Regulus at your side. Their eyebrows raised to the skies, pointedly staring at your linked fingers. 
Later, you mouthed. You had a hell of a lot of explaining to do, but your friends merely smiled and nodded. 
“Finally,” Pansy announced exasperatedly. She patted the seat next to her as you shyly slipped in. “I was beginning to think that we’d have to scheme to get the two of you together.” 
“No need,” you said with a smile. “I think we took care of that on our own.” 
Regulus smiled and nuzzled against your shoulder. The boys flashed him shit-eating grins, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Stop scaring my girlfriend away, Pans.” 
“Oh, is it girlfriend now? It’s about time. I’ve only listened to you pine and yearn for months.” 
“Excuse her,” Blaise said. “She’s just happy to have another girl in the group.” 
“Damn right I am. I’m tired of spending so much time with you heathens.” Pansy patted your shoulder. “I hope you’re in the market for new friends, because you’re not getting rid of me now. My first act of friendship will be to determine whether or not to hex that little trollop for glaring at you. Do you know that girl, Y/N?” 
You turned and found Britt frowning at you with her arms crossed. “It’s alright, Pansy. She’s not worth it.” 
At the same moment, Tom sauntered through the aisles. Once he reached Britt, he cut her a glare that would paralyze a basilisk. She cowered back and made a hasty retreat. 
Tom merely continued walking before taking a seat next to Mattheo. “So, that hag, “ he says in a no-nonsense tone. “Would you like me to take care of her?” 
You glanced at the group in concern. “What exactly does taking care of her mean?” 
Mattheo’s curly head popped up from his plate. “Oh, he means he’ll feed her to his snake.” 
You laughed at the jest, but Tom remained stone-faced. He was obviously just kidding. Right?
“He’s dead serious,” Theo added. “I’ve seen him do it before.” 
With a gulp, you turned back to Tom. “That won’t be necessary, Tom. Please don’t feed Britt to your snake.” 
Tom shrugged as though you were discussing the weather. “Suit yourself.” 
When everyone returned to their morning banter, you turned to Regulus. “What have I gotten myself into?” 
Regulus smiled and pecked your lips. “You know, I considered clawing her ankles off, but I think Tom’s way will be much quicker.” 
“Regulus Black.” You scolded, though it wasn’t entirely convincing given the grin you were biting back. 
“It’s Reggie to you, love.” You stared at him pointedly, which only made him sigh dramatically. “Fine, Tom’s snake will not have a new snack, but only because I have a saint for a girlfriend.” 
“And I have a devious little sinner for a boyfriend.” 
Regulus smirked. “I’ll make sure to worship at your altar for penance.” 
You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help but blush as Regulus laid his head down on your shoulder once more. You ran your fingers through his curls, smiling to yourself when he let out a satisfied hum that sounded awfully close to a purr. 
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959 notes · View notes
warmilikeit · 2 months ago
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Yandere Batfam x Camp half-blood (Neglected reader)
DC x Pjo
I got this idea from another Tumblr post and I'm pretty new so, ion know how to tag and stuff, pls tell me
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"So... My mom just disappeared?" A little 6 year old (Name) asks Alfred about her mom
Alfred turned back like he was reminiscing "The Gala was for three nights, the first night she mesmerized all, the second night she befriended everyone, the third night she slept with your father"
.....
"then she disappeared, then you were dropped on our little doorstep! We were skeptical at first then we DNA tested you, you're Bruce's kid so you are the Wayne Manor's baby! And you and your Daddy are one big happy family"
That was lie. That a big lie
You know Alfred was just trying to make you feel better
It wasn't working.
________________________
You feel like shit, they look so fucking happy, for years and years have passed, your 12 now for God sake
Every year a new family photo was taken and as the years pass more and more people are added to the photos
And the phrase "the more the merrier was always said to you" like they were trying to drill it into your head, but it seemed like every year, you were being pushed farther and farther back into the photos till you're barely noticeable
It sucks at home and it sucks at school, at home at least you only had Damian to worry about, he would torture and bully you, remind you of how unloved and unwanted you were here, but at school?
It was everyone.
It doesn't help how you're unable to focus that much either, always getting called by teachers when you're not paying attention, and then them ridiculing you
Also, with the fact that your entire family are vigilantes except you.
Except you, you tried, and you were good at it, the problem was, why did it seem like a lot of villains were after you
So you were stuck at the manor
"hello" a woman inside the Manor spoke
This shocked you, she looked too old to be another kid adopted by that... But you can't be too sure
"new kid?" You asked
She seemed taken aback, but then it was like a veil was lifted and she transformed into this ew
Wtf did she just turn into?
Suddenly she had this donkey leg and snake tongue and fire for hair, her eyes slit and she hissed at you
Then she attacked
"OH WHAT THE FUCK"
With no weapon and no Alfred in hand, you ran
She ran after you and lit the hallways on fire in the process
You ran fast and far, to the outskirts of the mansion and straight into the garden, now when you thought your day could not get ANYMORE weirder, a voice calls out in the bushes
"I knew it! I knew you were a half-blood!I wasn't sure, but now I am!" You turn around and see a full ass tree transform into a beautiful lady
You're sure that Gotham Prep once talked about the side effects of drugs, and even if you haven't taken any drugs, you feel the side effects
"don't be scared, I'm a nymph! Me and my friends will help you run away from the empousa!" She grabbed me and threw me in the lake
A hand grabs you and pulls you further underwater, as much as you struggled, the hand kept pulling you and pulling you till your deep and then changed direction
Like you guys were heading somewhere, it felt like days, the hands alternating, first hands were blue and the lady whom the hands belonged too sounded worried, second hands were green, the lady was surprised
Third hand was light bluish purple, she expressed concern and kept pulling
The last hand was of human skin tone, pulling you up to shore
"Sir Chiron! There's a camper! The Naiads bought her here! Sir Chiron!"
He turns to look at you a bit worried, he looked from 13-14
He said "My name is Percy Jackson, and yours?"
_________________
Empousa: haha an unsuspecting demigod!
(Name) thinking that Bruce adopted another one: new kid?
Empousa: :o
_______________
Who do y'all think (Name)'s mom is?
Also the lack of Batfam dialogue is meant to represent their neglectful behavior, too bad their not gonna have a kid to return to
659 notes · View notes
brunchable · 3 months ago
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LAZARUS SERUM || Steve Rogers x F!Reader
Part I
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Part Two | Part Three Words: 8.5K Themes: Very Angsty?, Break-up, Violence, Kidnapped, Super Human transformation, Action, Attempted Assault, Lovers to Enemies, Enemies to Lovers. Summary: Set in 1942. Steve allowed being a Super Soldier inflate his ego. After a breaking up with Steve, your world shatters then you're abducted and subjected to a mysterious experiment. A/N: I was washing the dishes when this came to me. I thought Y/N was really BADASS at the end. Baby girl is bad bitch, she on Fire. Paint the town red can be her song. A reblog would be noice <3
The sun was setting over Brooklyn, casting long shadows across the streets. You and Steve walked side by side, your fingers intertwined, the cool breeze of the evening wrapping around you both. Steve’s small hand fit perfectly in yours, a comforting reminder of the years you had spent together, supporting each other through thick and thin. 
It wasn’t easy being with him, especially with how the world treated him—just a scrawny, sickly guy who never knew when to give up. 
Your parents disapproved and your friends laughed at you for choosing Steve over James. You always tell Steve, ‘If they laugh, then fuck'em all.’
He has a good heart and you loved him for it— for his determination, his kindness, and his unwavering sense of right and wrong.
As you walked, a heavy silence hung between you. The reason was clear: James or known as Bucky Barnes, was shipping out to fight in the war. The three of you had been inseparable, a trio bound by shared history and deep affection. But now, Bucky was leaving, and the thought of losing him weighed heavily on your heart.
“Well, I guess this is it. I’m heading out tomorrow.” Bucky finally stopped and turned to you both, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. 
You nodded, trying to keep the sadness from showing on your face. “It’s not going to be the same without you, Bucky.”
He gave a small chuckle, though it lacked its usual warmth. “You’ll manage. You’ve got this punk to keep you busy.” He playfully nudged Steve, who smiled weakly in return.
“I should be going with you, Bucky,” Steve said, his voice tight with emotion.
“You’re gonna be fine, Steve. You’ve got that heart of yours, and that’s stronger than any muscle.” Bucky’s expression softened, and he reached out, placing a firm hand on Steve’s shoulder. He turned to you, his gaze filled with concern. 
“And you, Y/N… take care of him, will ya? Someone’s gotta keep him out of trouble.”
You forced a smile, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I will, Bucky. I promise.”
Bucky pulled you into a tight hug, holding you for a moment longer than necessary. When he finally let go, he clasped hands with Steve, their handshake lingering as they both tried to hold onto the moment.
“Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone,” Bucky said, trying to lighten the mood.
Steve gave a small laugh, but it was strained. “No promises.”
With one last look at both of you, Bucky nodded, then turned and walked away, his figure disappearing into the distance. 
As he left, the weight of his absence settled over you like a thick fog. The world suddenly felt colder, emptier without Bucky’s presence.
“He’ll be okay,” Steve said quietly, more to himself than to you, as you both stood there in silence, watching Bucky disappear.You leaned into Steve, seeking comfort in his presence. 
“I hope so. I don’t know what we’ll do if something happens to him.” Steve squeezed your hand, trying to be reassuring. 
“He’s strong. He’ll make it back.” But deep down, both of you knew there were no guarantees in war.
× × × × 
A few weeks later, the day finally came when Steve received his enlistment notice. You were there when he got the news, a mixture of pride and worry swirling in your chest. He had finally done it—he was going to fight in the war, just like Bucky. But that also meant he was leaving you behind, just like Bucky.
“I can’t believe it,” Steve said, staring at the paper in his hands, his voice filled with excitement. “I’m actually going.”
You smiled, though it was bittersweet. “I knew you would. You’re the most determined person I’ve ever met, Steve. They’d be crazy not to let you in.”
 “I couldn’t have done it without you, Y/N. You’ve always believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself.” Steve looked up at you, his expression softening.
You reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently. “I’m so proud of you, Steve. You’re going to do great things. Just… promise me you’ll be careful.”
Steve’s eyes were filled with emotion as he pulled you into a tight embrace. “I promise, Y/N. I’ll come back to you. I swear.”
But as you held him, a deep sadness settled over you. First Bucky, now Steve—everyone you cared about was leaving, going off to fight a war that seemed so far removed from your life in Brooklyn. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread, a fear that things would never be the same again.
× × × × 
The day Steve came back from the super-soldier program, everything changed. You had waited anxiously for news, praying that everything would go smoothly, that he would come back to you safe and sound. When you finally saw him again, it was nothing like you imagined.
The first time you laid eyes on the new Steve Rogers was outside a government building, where a crowd had gathered. You pushed your way through, eager to see him after weeks of silence. When you finally spotted him, your breath caught in your throat.There he was—tall, muscular, and impossibly different. The boy you once knew was gone, replaced by a man who exuded power and confidence. It was Steve, and yet it wasn’t.
“Steve!” you called out, your voice lost in the noise of the crowd. You tried to make your way toward him, but the throng of people pushed you back, jostling you aside as they clamored for a closer look at the hero.
Steve seemed oblivious to the crowd around him, focused entirely on the conversation he was having with a woman by his side—Peggy Carter. You had heard about her, of course, but seeing them together was different. There was an ease between them that made your heart sink.
“Steve!” you called out again, louder this time, but he didn’t hear you—or if he did, he didn’t acknowledge it. You watched as Peggy leaned in closer, her hand resting on his arm in a way that felt far too familiar.
Then, as if in slow motion, you saw Steve get into a car with her, leaving you standing alone in the crowd, feeling completely invisible.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to see you, to run to you, to hold you in his arms like he always did. But instead, he was driving away with someone else, and you were left behind, forgotten.
× × × ×
A few weeks pass by with not one word from Steve, the last time you heard his voice was on the radio, giving a speech that would motivate the soldiers out there or in the newspaper. You were sitting by the window, reading a book while your cat rested peacefully on your lap. Then, there was a knock at the door. You kept your ears attentive, though your eyes were focused somewhere else.
You heard your mother answer it, and you listened as she exchanged a few words with whoever was at the door. A moment later, she called out to you, “Y/N, there’s a soldier here to see you.”
You furrowed your brow in confusion as you walked toward the door. A soldier? Why would—?
As you reached the doorway, your breath caught in your throat. There, standing in the threshold, was Steve Rogers, but not the Steve you remembered. He was taller, broader, wearing an army uniform that fit him perfectly, and his entire presence seemed… different. The frail, sickly boy you had known was gone, replaced by a man you barely recognized.
“Do you know this gentleman, dear?” Your mother, still standing by the door, looked between you and Steve, clearly confused. 
“It’s me, Mrs. L/N, Steve Rogers.” Steve gave her a warm smile, his voice deeper than you remembered. 
Your mother blinked, looking Steve up and down before recognition finally dawned on her face. “Steve? My goodness, look at you! I didn’t even recognize you. You look… Well, you look like a different person altogether!”
“Yes, he… he certainly does.” You forced a smile, still trying to process the fact that he's standing there. 
“Well, I’ll leave you two to catch up. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.” Your mother gave you a strange look as she walked past, heading back into the house. 
The heck was that about?
As she disappeared into the other room, you turned your attention back to Steve, your heart pounding. You looked up at him, which was something you weren't used to. He's so. . .tall.
“Steve… is that really you?”
“It’s me, Y/N,” Steve replied, his voice deeper than you remembered. “I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch. Things have been… crazy in the last couple of days.”
“I’m just glad you’re okay.” You nodded, trying to hide your disappointment.
Steve smiled, a hint of the old Steve you knew shining through. “I’m more than okay. I want to make it up to you. How about I take you out to dinner tonight? Just the two of us.”
Your heart lifted at the thought. Maybe this was your chance to reconnect, to get back to the way things were. 
“I’d like that,” you said softly. “I’d like that a lot.”
“Listen, I need to go back but I'll see you at our favorite spot? Six-thirty?” He reaches for your hands and kissed the back of it. 
“I’ll be there,” you chuckled at his romantic gesture.
“Don’t keep me waiting.” He winks at you, and you couldn’t help but giggle. This new playful side of him, got you hooked like a fish.
× × × ×
“Good evening, Ma'am. Do you have a reservation for tonight?” the hostess asked politely, her hands poised over the guest book.
“Yes. Steve Rogers?”
The hostess scanned the list, her finger trailing down the page. “Table 11. Right this way.” She smiled warmly and gestured for you to follow.
Your heart quickened as you anticipated seeing Steve, but when you reached the table, your smile faltered. The chair opposite you was empty. The hostess pulled it out for you, and with a quiet sigh, you sat down, your eyes flickering anxiously toward the door.
“Can I offer you any refreshments?” 
“Not at the moment.”
“No problem. Let us know if you need anything.” With a nod, she left you alone, leaving the weight of the evening to settle over you.
Minutes turned into an hour, and you found yourself glancing at the door every time it opened, only to be met with disappointment as someone other than Steve entered. As the hours passed, your hope began to wane, replaced by a growing knot of irritation in your chest.
But as the hours ticked by, your hope began to fade. The restaurant was closing, and still, there was no sign of him. The waitstaff was cleaning up around you, giving you sympathetic looks as you sat there alone, trying to hold back the tears.
The restaurant was winding down, the waitstaff quietly cleaning up around you. Their sympathetic looks were hard to ignore as you sat alone, struggling to keep your emotions in check. You felt a lump in your throat, your eyes stinging as you blinked back tears.
“Miss, I don’t mean to be rude, but we’re closing,” a waiter said gently, approaching you with a cautious smile.
You nodded, trying to muster some semblance of dignity, “I’m so sorry. I’ll be on my way.” You snuffled and smiled as you got up from your seat. Getting up alone was hard, the weight of embarrassment was weighing you down. 
Just as you turned to leave, the door swung open. Steve rushed in, his face flushed and hair slightly disheveled. “Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he blurted out, hurrying over to you. “I got caught up in something important. I didn’t mean to be late.”
The staff paused in their work, their eyes shifting between you and Steve. There stood the dashing soldier, looking every bit the hero in his crisp uniform, yet here he was, unmistakably late. As their gazes turned to you in your lavender shirtwaist dress, it was clear they understood why you had waited so long.
“It’s eleven.” Your voice seethed after glancing at your watch, noticing a red smudge on his collar, “They’re closed. Let’s talk outside.”
Without waiting for a response, you cleared your throat and walked out, brushing past him intentionally to make your anger known. Steve followed closely behind, sensing the storm brewing between you two. This was the first time he had been this late, and you were struggling to decide whether to forgive him easily or let him feel the full weight of your emotions.
“Steve, where were you? I waited for hours,” you said, trying to keep your voice whole, this feeling like you were losing him is foreign and hard to keep internally.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I got caught up with something… important.” Steve barely met your gaze, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. 
“More important than us?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, the pain of being pushed aside finally surfacing.
Steve sighed, his shoulders slumping. “It’s not like that. You know I’m trying to do the right thing. There’s so much going on, and I—”
“Forgot about me?” You didn’t want to be this person, but the loneliness and the fear of losing him had been building up for too long. Without Bucky around, you had no one to turn to, no one to share this burden with. “I understand that you have responsibilities now, but you made a promise.”
He finally looked at you, guilt flashing in his eyes. “Y/N, I’m not leaving you behind. I just. . . things are different.”
“I can see that,” you said, you look at him from head to toe. The man standing in front of you wasn’t the same Steve who used to hold you and make you feel like the most important person in the world. This was someone else, someone who had outgrown you, “You’ve changed, and I’m not talking about your appearance.”
“I’m still me, Y/N. But now, I have responsibilities, people who rely on me.” Steve looked down, guilt flashing in his eyes. 
“And what about me?” you asked, the hurt evident in your voice. “Do I even matter anymore, or was I just someone to keep you company when you had nothing else?”
“Don’t say that,” Steve replied quickly out of spite, “Maybe… maybe you were only with me because you felt sorry for me. For who I was.”
His words cut deep, and you recoiled as if he had struck you. “You think I was with you out of pity? Is that what you believe?”
“I don’t know,” Steve said, his voice strained.
“How could you think that?” you said, your voice rising with a mix of anger and hurt. “I was with you because I love you, Steve. Not because I felt sorry for you. I believed in you, and I loved you for who you were, not because of what you couldn’t do or how you appear.”
“I’m just not sure where I fit in this new world, and I’m not sure where you fit in it either. I'm trying to wo—”
Your chest began feeling tight because of his words. You had always known that things would change after the serum, but you never expected him to question your feelings like this. 
“So, what are you saying? That there’s no place for me in your life anymore? That I don’t belong because you’ve become someone else?” You emphasized his structure with your hand.
Steve shook his head, looking frustrated. “I don’t know what I’m saying. I just… I feel like we’re both hanging on to something that’s already gone.”
“Already gone? Nothing was gone, at least not on my part.” Tears welled up in your eyes, but you fought to keep your voice from cracking, “Is there someone else? Is that why you’re looking for a way out?”
“No! Of course not. It's because for once in myself I feel like I'm worth something,” he said, running a hand through his hair.
The finality of his words hit you like a punch to the gut. You had fought so hard to hold onto him, to keep the love between you alive, but now it felt like you were losing that battle. You had wanted him to stay tonight, to make things right, but now you weren’t sure if there was anything left to salvage.
Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. You turned away, the tears you had been holding back finally spilling over. 
“You know what? Just… go, Steve. Do whatever it is you have to do. I will not think less of myself just because you do not know how to love me anymore.” you said, your voice heavy with resignation.
“Y/N…” Steve’s voice was soft, filled with regret, but you couldn’t face him. Not now.
“Please, Steve. Just go.”
What you really wanted to say was, “Please stay. Show me that I still matter to you.” But you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. You were too afraid that he wouldn’t fight for you, and the thought of that was too painful to bear.
Steve hesitated, his eyes wandering as if trying to find the right words. He just stood there, saying nothing. 
You took a deep breath, your heart pounding as you walked closer to him, his face softening as you reached up and gently adjusted his collar. Your fingers brushed against the fabric, lingering just a moment longer than necessary. 
Then, in the calmest voice you could muster, you said, “Lemon helps with removing lipstick stains.”
Steve’s eyes widened in panic, his hand instinctively reaching up to touch the spot where your fingers had been.
“Y/N, I seriously don't know how this got here—” he began and it almost sounded genuine, his voice filled with panic as he tried to close the distance between you.
But you took a step back, your eyes now red and brimming with tears. You raised a hand to stop him, your voice breaking as you sobbed deeply, “Don’t. Just… don’t.”
Steve’s heart shattered at the sight of you sobbing, your pain a statement in every tear that fell. His instinct was to reach out, to hold you, but your outstretched hand and the heartbreak in your eyes kept him rooted to the spot.
If Bucky were here… The thought pierced his mind like a knife, and suddenly, jealousy coursed through him, hot and irrational. Bucky. The one person who had always managed to make you smile, even when he couldn’t. The one who could draw out your laughter with just a word, a look. The one who, despite being his best friend, had always been a shadow in the corner of Steve’s mind when it came to you.
Was it easier with Bucky? Did you love Bucky more than him? Had you ever thought of Bucky in ways that Steve couldn’t bear to imagine?
“You should’ve just chosen Bucky.” Steve muttered and with one last, tortured look at you, Steve turned away, his steps. He walked away, leaving you standing there, your tears flowing freely now. He didn’t look back, too afraid of what he might see if he did.
Your breath caught in your throat, the shock of his words slicing through the already unbearable pain. You stared at him, wide-eyed, unable to process the bitterness in his voice, the finality of his statement.
The Steve you had known was gone. You didn’t know if looking for him would be worth it because you knew how it would feel—it would feel like reaching for smoke.
Heartbroken and feeling more isolated than ever, you decided to walk home alone. Your cries echoes the street, water gushing out of your eyes like it’s being released by a dam. The echo of your footsteps on the empty streets was a haunting reminder of just how alone you felt. Steve had left, and with him, it felt like a part of your heart had been ripped away.
Steve’s words replayed in your mind, cutting deeper with every repetition. The idea that he thought you might have been with him out of pity or that you're better off with Bucky was a knife to your heart, twisting with every breath.
The streets of Brooklyn were eerily quiet, the usual bustle replaced by an unsettling stillness. The lamps cast long, distorted shadows across the pavement, and every sound seemed amplified in the silence. You quickened your pace, trying to escape the weight of your thoughts, but it was no use. 
As you turned down a narrow street, the familiar surroundings suddenly felt foreign and oppressive. You hugged your coat tighter around you, your mind racing with a mixture of fear and despair. Ahead, the road forked into two directions—one leading to your home, the other into an even darker, narrower alley. You turned towards home, your heart pounding as you tried to shake the feeling of being watched.
Then, without warning, you heard the screech of tires on the asphalt. Before you could react, a van skidded to a stop in front of you, its headlights blinding in the dark street. The doors flew open, and three men in dark clothing jumped out, their faces obscured by shadows.
Panic surged through you as you spun on your heel, trying to run, but it was too late. They were on you in an instant, their grips like iron as they dragged you towards the van.
“No! Let me go! Help! Please someone!” you screamed, thrashing against their hold, but your voice was swallowed by the night, and the empty streets offered no help. Your heart raced, the fear consuming you as you struggled with the best you can.
A cloth was suddenly pressed against your mouth and nose, and a sickly sweet smell filled your senses. You tried to hold your breath, to fight against the drowsiness that quickly overtook you, but it was no use. The world around you started to blur, your vision darkening as your body went limp.
The last thing you heard before everything went black was the sound of the van doors slamming shut and the dull roar of the engine as it sped away into the night.
× × × ×
DAY ONE
When you woke, the world was a haze of pain and confusion. The first thing you noticed was the cold metal pressing against your back, you were naked. Your wrists and ankles were strapped to a metal table, the restraints biting into your skin. Panic clawed at your chest as you struggled against the bonds, but they held firm, keeping you pinned down.
Your vision was blurry, your head pounding from whatever they had used to knock you out. Slowly, the room around you came into focus—bare, clinical, with walls of stark white. You weren’t in Brooklyn anymore. You weren’t anywhere you recognized.
You heard voices, cold and detached, speaking in hushed tones. You couldn’t make out the words, but the tone sent chills down your spine. Footsteps approached, and a shadow loomed over you.
A man’s face came into view, his expression devoid of any warmth or compassion. “She’s awake. Prepare the serum.”
The word “serum” sent a jolt of fear through you, and you renewed your struggles, trying to break free. But the restraints didn’t budge, and the man paid no attention to your terror or the muffled screams that bounced off the walls.
You felt a sharp prick in your arm as they injected something into your veins. Immediately, a searing pain shot through your body, like liquid fire burning through every nerve. You tried to scream, but your voice was caught in your throat, choked off by the agony that consumed you.
The pain was unbearable and you could feel your body convulsing on the table, your muscles seizing as the serum spread through you. It felt like your entire being was being torn apart, every cell screaming in protest. You began to foam in the mouth, the scene your captors watched was like out of an exorcist movie.
And then… nothing. The world around you went dark, and you slipped into unconsciousness, the pain finally giving way to merciful oblivion.
“Sir, should we stop?” One of them said, “Her vital signs are getting dangerously out of limits, she might go into cardiac arrest.”
“No, keep going until that last vial is finished. I want to see what’ll happen. Then we repeat until there’s signs of success.” 
DAY TWO
You awoke to the sensation of your body being dragged, rough hands gripping your arms as they pulled you across the cold, unforgiving floor. Your vision was clouded, your mind struggling to grasp onto reality as the fog of unconsciousness began to lift. Every inch of you ached, a dull, throbbing pain that seemed to seep into your very bones.
As you were hoisted back onto the metal table, the cold surface pressed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. The restraints clamped down on your wrists and ankles once more, their cruel bite familiar by now. The room around you was still the same—sterile, white, and devoid of any humanity.
You tried to speak, but your throat was on dry and on fire, your voice barely a whisper. "Please... stop..."
Your plea fell on deaf ears. The figures in lab coats moved around you with the same clinical detachment as before, their faces obscured by surgical masks. One of them approached, holding a clipboard, his eyes scanning the data as if you were nothing more than a lab rat.
"Her vitals stabilized overnight," he said, his tone matter-of-fact. "But... the readings are inconsistent. I'm not sure if the serum is taking effect."
The man from before—the one who had ordered the serum—stepped into view, his expression as cold and unreadable as ever. He leaned over you, his eyes scrutinizing your face with a mix of curiosity and impatience.
"Let's see if she can handle more," he said, his voice flat, giving nothing away.
Panic surged through you, your heart racing as you remembered the excruciating pain from the day before. You tried to struggle, but your body was too weak, too drained from the torment they had already inflicted on you.
The man nodded to one of his colleagues, who approached with another syringe, the liquid inside glowing with an ominous, sickly hue. You watched in horror as the needle approached your arm, every muscle in your body tensing with dread.
"No... no, please..." you begged, your voice breaking.
But they didn't stop. The needle pierced your skin once again, and the liquid fire coursed through your veins, more intense than before. The pain was immediate, searing through you like a thousand white-hot knives. You thrashed against the restraints, your screams tearing through the air, but there was no escape from the agony.
The world around you blurred as the pain became all-consuming, every nerve in your body ablaze. You could feel your heart pounding erratically, your vision darkening at the edges. It was too much, too overwhelming.
But this time, there was no merciful oblivion waiting for you. The pain persisted, dragging you down into a nightmare from which there was no escape. Your body convulsed violently, your muscles seizing as the serum wreaked havoc within you.
The voices around you became distant, muffled by the roaring in your ears. You couldn't make out what they were saying, but their tone was one of cold observation, detached from the suffering they were causing.
"Her body's reacting... but the patterns aren't consistent. It’s hard to tell if it’s working or if she’s just... rejecting it."
"Increase the dosage," the man ordered, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched your writhing form. "We need to push her further. If there's any sign of success, we'll see it soon enough."
"But sir," one of the lab technicians hesitated, his voice uncertain. "If we push too hard, she might not survive the next round. The readings are already erratic—she could go into shock or worse."
"That’s a risk I’m willing to take," the man replied coldly. "We won’t know until we push her limits."
Your heart sank at his words. There was no end to this. They were going to keep pushing, keep testing, until either the serum took hold of your body or gave out entirely.
As you lay there, barely conscious, the pain began to ebb slightly, leaving you trembling and drenched in sweat. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your chest heaving as you tried to cling to consciousness.
"Prepare the next dose," the man ordered, his voice devoid of any empathy.
This time, your heart sank even deeper. The nightmare wasn’t just beginning—it was accelerating, and there was no way out. You were trapped in this hell, at the mercy of those who saw you as nothing more than an experiment, a means to an end. And whether or not the serum was taking effect, you knew that whatever happened next would push you to your breaking point—and beyond.
DAY EIGHTY
When you woke, the familiar chill of the metal table greeted you. The room was as stark and clinical as ever, but something had changed within you. The pain was still there, a constant, gnawing presence, but it no longer controlled you. You had become accustomed to it, numb to its bite. It was just another part of your existence now.
Eighty days.
Eighty days of torment, of relentless experimentation, of feeling your body and mind pushed to their breaking points and beyond. You had lost track of time somewhere around the third week, the days and nights blending into a seamless blur of agony and darkness. But even as the days passed, you remained conscious, aware—alive.
The door to the room opened, and you didn’t bother to turn your head. You knew who it was. The man with the cold eyes approached, his footsteps echoing on the hard floor. He had become a constant in your world, his presence as regular as the pain he inflicted. 
“You’re still with us, I see,” he remarked, his tone as detached as ever. He moved closer, inspecting the restraints that held you down. “Most impressive.”
You didn’t respond. You hadn’t spoken in days—there was nothing left to say. Every word, every plea had fallen on deaf ears. You had learned long ago that silence was your only companion in this hell.
“Her vitals are stronger,” a technician noted, glancing at the monitors that tracked your every heartbeat. “We’ve noticed a significant increase in her strength and resilience. The serum seems to be taking effect.”
The man nodded, though there was no satisfaction in his expression. “Eighty days,” he mused, as if talking to himself. “Eighty days, and you’re still here. Stronger, faster… more than we ever anticipated.”
He turned his gaze to you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “But are you in control, I wonder? Or has the serum taken control of you?”
His words hung in the air, but you didn’t flinch. The battle for control was something you fought every day, every hour. The serum coursing through your veins had changed you in ways you couldn’t fully understand yet, but you were still you—or so you told yourself.
“Let’s see if we can push it further,” he said, signaling to the technician.
The restraints were released, and you felt the cold metal slide away from your wrists and ankles. You didn’t move, not yet. You had learned to conserve your strength, to hold back until the moment was right.
“Sit up,” he commanded.
You obeyed, slowly raising yourself into a seated position. Your movements were deliberate, controlled. You could feel the power coursing through your body, every muscle coiled with potential energy, but you kept it in check.
The man stepped back, giving you space, watching you closely. “Stand.”
You slid off the table, your bare feet touching the cold floor. You stood, swaying slightly as the blood rushed to your head. But you remained upright, your gaze locked on the man who had been your tormentor for nearly three months.
“Walk,” he ordered, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity.
You took a step forward, then another. Your legs were shaky at first, but you quickly found your balance. Each movement felt strange, foreign, as if you were inhabiting a body that wasn’t entirely your own. But you continued, step after step, until you were standing directly in front of him.
“Good,” he said, nodding approvingly. “Very good.”
He reached out, placing a hand on your shoulder. The touch was light, almost gentle, but you could sense the underlying threat in it. “Now, let’s see just how far we can take this.”
You didn’t react as he motioned for the guards to step forward, their weapons at the ready. You knew what was coming next. This was another test, another attempt to push you beyond your limits.
The guards surrounded you, their faces expressionless, their grips tight on their weapons. The man gave a slight nod, and they moved as one, striking out at you with calculated precision.
But this time, you were ready. The serum had done its work. You were faster, stronger, and as their blows came toward you, you reacted with a speed that surprised even you. You deflected the first strike with ease, the second with even greater efficiency. Your movements were fluid, instinctual, a dance of power and precision.
Within moments, the guards were on the ground, groaning in pain, their weapons scattered across the floor. You stood over them, breathing heavily, your heart pounding with adrenaline. The power surging through you was intoxicating, overwhelming, but you were in control. For now.
The man watched you with a hint of something in his eyes—respect, maybe, or perhaps something more sinister.
“Yes,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “This is what we’ve been waiting for.”
You stood there, the blood rushing in your ears, your body alive with the thrill of what you had just done. But beneath it all, there was a gnawing sense of unease. You had changed, become something different, something more. But at what cost?
As the guards were dragged away, the man turned to you once more. “Eighty days,” he repeated, a slight smile playing on his lips. “And now, the real work begins.”
You didn’t respond. You had nothing left to say. The battle was far from over, and as you looked into the cold, calculating eyes of your captor, you knew that whatever came next would push you even further into the darkness.
But you were ready. Because after eighty days of hell, you had learned one thing—you would survive, no matter what.
DAY 100
The pain had reached a point where it was almost surreal, as if your mind had detached itself from your body to protect what was left of your sanity. You lay strapped to the cold metal table, your skin clammy, your breaths shallow. The serum that had been forced into your veins was taking its final toll. Your vision blurred, the edges of your world darkening as you teetered on the brink of consciousness.
The man with the cold eyes stood over you, his expression hard as he watched the monitors tracking your vitals. He had been relentless, pushing the experiments further each day, determined to force the serum to work. But today, something was different. The lines on the monitor were becoming erratic, your heart rate spiking and dipping unpredictably.
"Her vitals are deteriorating rapidly," a technician warned, his voice tinged with anxiety. "She's not stabilizing. We should stop."
The man clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing. "We’re too close. Increase the dosage."
"But sir, she won't survive—"
"Do it!" he barked, cutting off the protest.The technician hesitated for a moment before injecting you with another dose of the glowing serum. The liquid fire surged through your veins, and the world around you exploded into pain once again. But this time, it was different—this time, your body couldn’t take it.
You convulsed violently on the table, the restraints digging into your skin as your body fought a losing battle. Your vision darkened further, the room around you fading into an indistinct blur. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, a desperate rhythm that couldn’t keep pace with the assault on your system.
And then, it stopped. The world around you went silent. your life flashed before your eyes, beginning with the warmth of your childhood—the comforting embrace of your mother as she read you stories at night, the sound of her laughter filling your small apartment in Brooklyn. You remembered the day you met Steve, the shy, awkward boy who had tripped over his own feet trying to impress you, and Bucky’s teasing grin as he nudged Steve forward, encouraging him to finally ask you out. There were memories of long summer days spent in the park, the three of you inseparable, sharing ice cream and dreams of the future.
But then, the memories shifted. The warmth drained away as you saw Steve walking away from you, his back turned, his footsteps echoing in the empty space between you. . .
“Dispose of the body.”
× × × ×
D - 100
When you woke up this time, you weren’t in the cold, sterile room. Instead, you were lying in an alley, discarded like trash. The hard, wet pavement was unforgiving against your body, and the chill in the air bit through your clothes. You don’t know what day or even month it was.
Your once neat and tidy outfit was now torn and filthy, covered in grime and dirt from the alleyway. The lavender shirtwaist dress you had worn so proudly earlier was now barely recognizable, stained with mud and who knows what else.
Your hair, once carefully styled, was now a tangled mess, strands sticking to your face, damp with sweat and the moisture of the night. You could feel the grit and dirt under your nails, the remnants of your struggle to free yourself from whatever hellish place you had been held. Your hands were scraped and raw, the skin broken and bleeding in places.
Your face felt gritty, as if you’d been dragged through the dirt. As you lifted a hand to touch your cheek, you could feel the rough texture of dried blood and dirt clinging to your skin. Your body aches all over, every muscle sore from the strain of whatever had been done to you. The cold dusk air bit into your exposed skin, making you shiver as you struggled to push yourself up from the ground.
The street was dimly lit, the sound of distant traffic the only sign of life around you. The once-familiar streets of Brooklyn now felt alien and hostile, and in your current state, you felt like a ghost haunting the city you once knew.
You stood there, shivering and alone, the reality of your situation sank in. Whoever had taken you had done something to you—something that had changed you. But they had deemed you a failure, or perhaps an afterthought, and simply left you to fend for yourself.
You felt stronger, different, but the overwhelming sense of abandonment weighed heavily on your heart. You looked down at your hands, trembling as you tried to comprehend what had happened to you.
Just as you began to move, your disheveled appearance caught the attention of a group of men lurking in the shadows. They saw an easy target—someone weak, vulnerable, alone. Their eyes locked onto you, and you could feel their gazes crawling over you like a predator sizing up its prey. But they had no idea what they were about to face.
“Hey, look what we got here,” one of them called out, his voice dripping with malice. He stepped forward, a smirk spreading across his face as he took in your bedraggled state. “You look like you’ve had a rough night, sweetheart.”
Another man snickered, his eyes narrowing as he moved to block your path. “Where you headed in such a hurry? We could keep you company.”
The men began to circle you, cutting off any chance of escape. Their leers and mocking laughter echoed off the walls of the alley, making your skin crawl. You backed away, your heart racing, but they kept closing in, their intent all too clear.
One of them reached out to grab your arm, but before his hand could make contact, something snapped inside you. The fear that had gripped you earlier was replaced by a cold, detached resolve. 
With a sudden burst of strength, you lashed out, your fist connecting with the man’s jaw. The impact sent him reeling backward, blood spurting from his mouth. He stumbled, crashing into a pile of trash cans with a loud clatter, his smug expression replaced by shock.
The other men hesitated, their bravado faltering as they realized you were not the helpless victim they had assumed. But their hesitation quickly turned to anger, and they surged forward, determined to make you pay for their friend’s humiliation.
But they didn’t stand a chance.
With a newfound power surging through your veins, you moved like a force of nature. You dodged their clumsy attempts to grab you, your movements fluid and precise. Every strike you landed sent them staggering back, their groans of pain filling the air.
One man lunged at you, his hands reaching for your throat, but you ducked under his grasp, spinning on your heel to deliver a powerful kick to his midsection. The force of the blow knocked the wind out of him, and he crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath.
Another man tried to grab you from behind, but you twisted out of his grip, your elbow slamming into his ribs with a sickening crack. He howled in pain, clutching his side as he fell to his knees.
The last man standing looked at you with wide, fearful eyes, his confidence shattered. “What the hell are you?” he stammered, backing away.
You stared at him, feeling that cold detachment settle over you once more. “Someone you should never have messed with,” you replied, your voice calm and steady.
Without another word, you stepped forward and struck him with a swift, powerful punch. He didn’t have time to react before he was sent crashing to the ground, unconscious.
As you stood there, surrounded by the groaning forms of the men who had tried to attack you, the reality of what you had just done began to sink in. You had taken them down with ease, without even thinking. The fear that had gripped you earlier was gone, replaced by something else—something darker, more dangerous.
You looked down at your hands, trembling slightly as you tried to process what had just happened. They were bruised and dirty, knuckles bloodied from the fight, but they were steady, powerful. You weren’t the same person who had been taken from the streets and subjected to whatever hellish experiment had been done to you.
You were stronger now, and that strength came with a cold, hard edge that scared you as much as it empowered you.
But there was no time to dwell on it. You needed to get out of there, to find somewhere safe where you could figure out what had been done to you. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself before you began to walk away from the alley, leaving the men behind.
As you disappeared into the early morning light, the realization that you were truly alone settled in your heart. You had been discarded, left to fend for yourself. But you would survive this. You would become stronger, faster, more powerful than anyone who had ever underestimated you.
And if Steve had truly discarded you as well, if he had moved on and left you behind, then you would prove that you didn’t need him—or anyone else.
By the time the sun began to rise, you were no longer the same person who had waited at that restaurant, hoping for a fresh start. The flame that once burned brightly for Steve had turned to cold, hardened embers.
You vowed never to let anyone discard you again.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
As the sun climbed higher in the sky, you trudged through the streets, your skin a canvas of bruises and cuts, each one a testament to the brutality you had endured. The world around you seemed surreal, almost detached, as if you were walking through a twisted dream. 
People noticed you—how could they not? Their eyes lingered a fraction too long before they darted away, some filled with pity, others with fear or disgust. Concerned mothers pulled their children closer, shielding them from the sight of you as if you were a monster, something to be feared and avoided. Whispers followed you like a shadow, just out of earshot but thick with judgment, dripping with the cruelty of strangers who saw only the surface.
No one approached you. No one dared. The stares didn’t bother you. In fact, you welcomed them. Let them look, let them fear. You would not be pitied. You would not be scorned. If the world wanted to see you as a monster—then so be it. 
As you walked, a familiar part of town began to come into view. You knew these streets well, every crack in the sidewalk, every faded storefront. It had been a place of comfort, of familiarity—but now it felt foreign, like you were an intruder in a place that no longer belonged to you.
Then, through the blur of people, you saw her. Your mother. She stood on the corner, frantically handing out pieces of paper with your picture on them, her eyes scanning every face that passed by, desperate and searching
When her gaze landed on you, her expression shifted—first to shock, then to fear, relief, and heartbreak that hit you like a punch to the gut. Your heart clenched, a pang of pity slicing through the wall you’d built around yourself. You had steeled yourself against so much, but seeing her there, so fragile, so broken, was almost too much to bear.
“M-Mom?” Your voice cracked, a betrayal of the emotions you fought so hard to suppress. For a split second, you felt like yourself again, but then that cold voice in your head reminded you: no tears, no weakness.
She rushed toward you, disbelief widening her eyes, her hand trembling as she covered her mouth in shock.
“Y/N? Is that you?” she gasped, her voice trembling.
You stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to speak as she reached out to you. Her hands, trembling, cupped your face, her touch so familiar yet so foreign. Tears welled in her eyes as she took in your appearance.
“What… what happened to you?” she whispered, her voice barely holding together.
The tears in her eyes reflected the pain you had tried so hard to bury. But you couldn’t let it out—not now. Not after everything.
“I’m fine,” you managed to say, though the words felt hollow. You pulled away from her touch, the warmth of it almost too painful to bear.
“No, you’re not,” she insisted, her voice shaking as she looked you up and down, trying to understand what had happened to her daughter. “Who did this to you? Where have you been?”
You shook your head, the emotions churning inside you too chaotic to form into coherent thoughts.
“It doesn’t matter,” you replied, your voice colder than you intended. “I just need to go home.”
Your mother’s brow furrowed, as she looked at you with a mother’s instinctive fear. “No, we need to take you to the hospital. You need to be checked out, Y/N. You’re hurt—”
“No!” you snapped, the force of your voice startling both of you, desperation in your tone, “No hospitals, no police report.”
“Y/N, please. You need help. We have to tell someone—”
Help? No one helped. 
“I said no!” you repeated, your voice trembling with an intensity that silenced her. “They won’t help. They’ll just ask questions, questions I can’t answer. They won’t understand, Mom. No one will.”
“But, Y/N—”
“I don’t need a doctor. I don’t need the police. I just need to go home. Please, Mom… just take me home.” Your breath came faster, panic rising in your chest as the thought of being in a hospital, of facing the police and their endless probing, became unbearable. 
Her face crumpled with worry, but she didn’t press further. Instead, she wrapped her arms around you, holding you tightly as if trying to shield you from whatever had hurt you. 
Slowly, she nodded, though her worry was still palpable. “Okay. Okay, we’ll go home. But promise me… promise me that if you need help, you’ll let me know. Just… don’t shut me out.”
You nodded, but the motion felt distant, like it didn’t quite belong to you. “I promise,” you whispered, though even as the words left your mouth, they felt empty, a hollow reassurance to ease her fears.
× × × × 
The rain poured down like icy needles, but you barely felt it through your black raincoat. Across the street, through the glowing window, Steve and Peggy danced together, they danced together like a well-rehearsed melody, a song you had once known by heart but now could only hear as a distant echo. Their connection was a knife, twisting in the hollowed-out space where your heart used to be.
Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, your nails digging into your palms as you stood there, seething. Every drop of rain that pelted against your coat felt like a reminder of the cold, hard truth—you had been replaced. Forgotten. Left to rot in the streets while he found comfort in another’s arms.
Your anger simmered, bubbling up from the depths of your chest. You had been willing to fight for him, to stand by his side no matter what. But what had that loyalty gotten you? Abandonment. Betrayal? And now, as you watched them dance, that anger solidified into something colder, harder.
“Y/L/N.” a deep commanding voice called your name.
Two officials stood in the shadows, their presence barely registering as you finally tore your gaze away from the window. They weren’t there for the party—they were there for you. Without a word, you pushed past them and joined their side.
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raileurta · 2 months ago
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Human space cats
I'm getting a bit of brain rot over humans being cats to transformers so here's some headcanons/ideas!
The bots that "hate" humans are really just the dads who say they hate the animal you brought home but like a week later is sleeping with them in his lap.
Transformers use a humming noise as a pdpspsh sound.
You know that one skit "Where's this dog i keep hearing about?" Idk but something like that would be funny.
Some homeless people will just chill in a bot's house to try getting free food and shelter. It works like 80% of the time.
The transformers would absolutely lose their mind over babies.
When Noah meet/steals mirage once they get to the warehouse he starts celebrating at final getting a human. He's like your my friend now we're going to eat soft tacos later. (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠`⁠)⁠。⁠*゚
(Which now I'm thinking about isn't actually that different from canon lol)
They will all do the human thing of seeing an animal walking around and acting like it's your first time seeing this cute blob. So an average joe will just be walking home after a shift then hears tons of honking out of no wear to see like three bots excitedly pointing at them.
Humans are like so so soft to them. Like it's hard not to just squeeze their little faces for being so darn fluffy.
The crazy cat lady equivalent is called a crazy fleshy bot or crazy human lover.
This is the best I could think of.
You know cat huffing? I bet some bots do that too. We are a usually clean species that uses a lot of scented items. I bet from a planet made of metal they don't have a lot of pleasant or any variety of scents.
I saw some good fan art of various humans being smushed into the faces of a bot and it reminded me of cat huffing.
Humans will also be feral little murder monkeys.
What I'm trying to go for essentially is:
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glow-worms-are-believers · 1 year ago
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Full Baby Back Guarantee Not Included (dp x dc)
“Look, lady. It was a joke, ok? I don’t actually want your newborn baby,” Danny said as he held up his hands trying to back away from the woman with a bundle of blankets in her arms.
“We made a deal, you can’t back out now,”  The woman said as she narrowed her eyes at him. “Your kind can’t break their words.”
“My kind?” Danny exclaimed incredulously, because what the hell was she on. “Lady, you are delusional.”
Then his eyes caught on the awkward way the woman was holding onto the bundle and he frowned.
“Wait a second.” The halfa’s eyes went big. “Is that even your kid?!” his voice turning into a shriek at the end. “Did you kidnap some random child?”
“It’s my sister’s,” the woman cut him off coldly. “She and the father are both dead.” That was pretty awful, Danny thought as he winced. But then she turned to look blankly at him.
“Nobody will look for her.”
Dear skies above, he was supposed to be the ghost here, why was he the one getting chills.
“Holy fuck,” the halfa let out softly. 
He had to get that baby away from that psychopath.
“What is it you want again?” Danny asked faintly.
“Make me the new chief operating officer,” the woman answered.
“What?” The halfa choked out.
“They’re giving the position to Shwartz this monday. You need to make sure that doesn’t happen,” she continued evenly as if she wasn’t currently selling a baby in exchange for a fucking promotion.
“Yeah sure, deal,” Danny answered, eager to get away from her as soon as possible. 
“Give me your word,” she insisted.
“I give my word, I swear,” the halfa said. “Gimme the kid and you’ll get your job.”
The woman looked at him for a second before seemingly being satisfied. 
She extended the bundle of blankets towards him and handed him the swaddle baby. As soon as the kid was in his arms, Danny zipped away, fully intent on never seeing the woman again. He sure as hell was not getting her that promotion. Not that he would’ve been able to, what the hell, lady? At least research better before making a deal for your sister's baby!
Though in retrospect, it was a good thing she hadn't.
As Danny flew over a few buildings, he thanked the ancients the woman hadn’t had any ghost restraining tech, and only the summoning ritual. Which was a thing he had not been aware existed but he he would have to circle back to that because, right now, he had a whole ass baby nestled in his arms.
What the hell was his life.
Danny slowed down the flight once he felt he had put enough distance between them and the psycho and landed on a nice patch of green next to a road. He looked around and took notice that they’d gotten out of whatever that city had been, or at least the more populated part. He gave a quick look for people or cameras around before de-transforming. If he was spotted with a baby in his arms, his human look would help his chance of not getting shot.
The halfa started walking away from the road and towards the green vegetation. Still walking, he took a deep breath before looking down at the baby.
“You ok, kid?” Danny asked softly as their small (so so tiny!) face twitched in their sleep. “Oh you’re sleepy, huh?” he murmured gently. “Sleep tight sweetheart, I’ve got you.”
Then he secured the blankets around the baby again, making sure none of the wind was reaching her. It was probably a her? The blankets were pink but he couldn’t know for sure since the psycho had only called her an it. Danny felt his lips curl. And as the night replayed in his mind, he felt the weight of the situation settle down on him.
Ancients what was he going to do?
He couldn’t pull up in Amity with a baby in his arms and no explanation of how he got her. He’d be arrested for kidnapping, which was technically absolutely what he was doing. But then again he couldn't just give that baby back to her aunt.
“What are you doing here?” came a voice from ahead of him.
Danny startled out of his thoughts to find himself facing an older man in a suit with a severe look on his face. The halfa instinctively brought the baby closer to his chest and the movement drew the older man’s eyes towards it.
Danny could see the realization of what it was he was holding settle and the man's face softened. He sighed deeply as his gaze went back up to meet the halfa’s.
“Despite what the media fancy printing, Wayne manor is not actually an orphanage.”
Danny had no idea what he was talking about so he just stayed silent and did his best not to look like someone who kidnapped babies.
The older man took the silence in stride. “If you need some help, there are programs to help young people in your situation,” he continued delicately.
Danny frowned as he tried to figure out what the guy meant by that before his eyes grew wide. “I’m not her dad!” He cried.
“I see,” the man said evenly as he looked back down at the bundle. Danny held her closer in response. “I see,” the guy repeated with a slight change in his voice.
The two held each other’s gaze for a moment before the older man sighed again. 
“Shall we continue this inside? It is getting windy and we wouldn’t want the little one to suffer, would we?” The man offered in a soothing tone.
Danny hesitated but one look at the kid’s face that had grown pink from the cold decided him.
“Ok,” Danny said. “Lead the way.”
And with that the three of them started  across the grassy lawn.
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kwanisms · 29 days ago
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Kinktober 「10:28」 — k.soonyoung
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» seventeen menu | hoshi menu | kinktober masterlist «
➮ weretiger!Soonyoung × fem!Reader wc: 3.3k summary: Normally during his heat, Soonyoung stays as far away from his girlfriend as he can for fear of scaring her away but he can’t help himself when she comes by to drop some soup off seeing as he told her he’s sick. genres/themes/au: smut; supernatural, horror, thriller; non idol au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, supernatural and horror themes, mentions of: food consumption, cat anatomy; sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to reblogs join my taglists! kinktober taglist is CLOSED! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you.  MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.
a/n: sorry for skipping two days in a row. I will be tacking those on at the end of Kinktober just like the others I missed so don’t worry. Jisung’s I just lost track of time and Christian’s fell on game day and I didn’t even realize it. I’ll get them done and added to the end of Kinktober, I promise lol anyway, here is our resident cult leader, Soonie and his tiger agenda. Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you thought and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.
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smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), heat cycles, rough sex, unprotected sex (just don’t do this. Use protection lol), non-human genitalia (like yunho, Soon’s got a barbed d!ck because cat. Don’t like it, don’t read it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ idc), scent marking (f receiving), biting (f receiving), use of pet names (hers: baby, kitten, beautiful, etc.; his: babe, Soonie, baby, etc.), I think i got all of them but let me know if I missed any! kinks: heat cycles + rough sex dialogue prompt: ❛❛ You heard me. Take. It. Off. Now. ❜❜
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“Kwon Soonyoung, I know you're home! Let me in, damn it!”
Soonyoung raised his head as he sat with his back against the door. He'd lost track of how long he'd been sitting there while you stood outside his apartment door, knocking, ringing the bell, demanding to be let in. He'd lost track of how many times he'd almost given.
Almost.
It's not that he didn't want to see you, he did. He wanted to see you more than anything, but he knew if he let you into his apartment, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from jumping you. Especially now that he could smell you.
It was always a rough time for him when he went into heat. Contrary to popular belief, it wasn't just female animals that went into heat, males also went into heat too and as a weretiger, Soonyoung was no exception. He'd spent most of his formative years dealing with it on his own and for a long time, he avoided being intimate with anyone because of the weird physiological changes to his body.
Unlike many werecreatures, Soonyoung's curse was a generational one and he was not bitten or scratched. His was passed from father to son and inherited by blood. The changes lay dormant until a boy started to go through puberty. By the time he was 18, Soonyoung had gone through just under two hundred and thirty full moon transformations.
And now, at twenty eight years of age, he'd been through over three hundred and fifty transformations. His heat always came the week leading up to the full moon. He was always consumed with an insatiable need to fuck something and he was very good at holding himself back.
Until you came along.
The sweet, caring, and unsuspecting girl who lived across the courtyard from him in the same apartment as him but on the other side of the complex. From his balcony, Soonyoung could see your balcony and the windows that looked into your apartment. 
You kept an assortment of potted plants on your balcony and had installed some sort of netting or mesh to sort of close in the area which made sense because as soon as it went up, he saw an orange tabby cat lounging at the top of a cat tree.
Know you liked cats gave Soonyoung the drive to talk to you the next time he saw you in the courtyard with what he thought was little success but his poorly executed joke still managed to make you laugh and get him your number.
From then on, he was hooked and the moment you invited him over for dinner, he was a goner. One date turned into two and then three and soon, he had the privilege of calling you his girlfriend.
You both maintained separate spaces in the building and he found it kind of cute, his girlfriend living across the courtyard from him. Your cats, which he learned there were actually two, were the sweetest creatures on earth and absolutely adored him. The girl, a white one with orange markings and long fur, was named Pad Thai and the boy, the short hair orange tabby, was named Cheezit. 
Soonyoung had taken to calling them his children and joked with his friends that you had full custody and he got visitations. It was a joke you took in stride and accepted fully, sending silly videos of the cats pretending to use your phone and making silly voices for them, speaking to their dad. It often made his day all that much brighter when he couldn’t come visit you.
Soonyoung had yet to tell you about his condition, only mentioning that he wasn’t like most guys, urging that he wasn’t just saying that and that it was a thousand percent true. He just hadn’t found the right time to tell you exactly how different he was. How does one even go about telling their partner that they’re a weretiger?
It was a conversation Soonyoung knew needed to happen but it just hadn’t yet. Which is why he was stuck in this situation now with you pounding on the door to be let in.
Soonyoung had started telling you that his once a month disappearance was just him coming down with something. He started with the usual excuses, the flu, the cold, stomach flu, even covid but he was starting to run out of excuses. He also hated using illness as an excuse because your immediate response was to offer to bring him medicine and food, usually in the form of soup, stew, or broth. He always gave the same excuse for not opening the door.
He didn’t want to get you sick.
At first, you took it as your boyfriend being cautious and caring but soon, you started to get suspicious and he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep up the charade much longer. He was going to have to come clean and tell you the truth much sooner rather than later.
A conversation he had been dreading ever since asking you to be his girlfriend.
The wood behind him shook as another series of loud knocks rang out, no doubt you beating your fist against the door. “Kwon Soonyoung!” you shouted. He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut, as if it might make you leave faster. He felt awful. He hated ignoring you but in his mind, it was for the best when he was in heat. He couldn’t risk scaring you off and losing you.
Another series of knocks shook the door, which was surprising given your somewhat smaller stature. For one so little, you sure were strong. And loud. “Kwon Soonyoung! If you do not open this door right now, we are done!” 
Soonyoung’s eyes opened quickly and he turned his head to look back at the door. ‘She wouldn’t…’ he thought to himself. “I mean it, Soonyoung! If you don’t open this door, consider us through!” Something in your tone made him scramble up to his feet, hastily pulling at the locks separating you from him. He could tell you weren’t kidding.
He kept the chain on, opening the door only a few inches as he looked out into the hall at you. He held his breath as he took in your frame. You’d showered recently, he could smell the scent of your shampoo and body wash, mixing with your natural scent and making his cock twitch in his pants.
On your face was a furious expression and his heart sank immediately. If he had cat ears, this is where they would flatten back against his head in fear. You were terrifying when you were mad. He’d never been on the receiving end of your anger before nor had he really seen it in action.
“H-hey,” he stammered. His eyes dipped down to see the thermos in your hand that no doubt held a homemade soup, stew, or broth of some kind but he couldn’t be sure with how tightly the lid was screwed on nor with how overpowering your scent was.
“Don’t you hey me,” you said, your eyes narrowing at him. “Open the door and let me in.” Soonyoung grimaced. He wanted more than anything to let you in but he knew if he did, there was no telling how he’d react to having you so close when he was aching, burning, to be touched. It wasn’t a good idea on many levels.
“I don’t wanna get you sick,” he murmured, keeping his voice low. You scoffed, placing a hand on your hip and looking every bit the sassy girlfriend he knew and loved. “Don’t try that bullshit with me,” you snapped. “I know you aren’t sick,” you added. Soonyoung’s eyes widened as he looked up from the thermos in your hand to meet your hardened gaze. “Wh-what?” he breathed. 
“I spoke to Jihoon,” you started to explain. “He told me the truth.” Soonyoung’s stomach sank as the realization that his best friend had outed him to you. ‘Well fuck,’ he thought. It looked like he was going to have to have a talk with Jihoon.
“So let me in. We need to talk.” Soonyoung sighed and closed the door, undoing the chain before pulling the door open for you to enter his apartment. He shut the door behind you and prepared for the storm.
You didn’t unload on him immediately, instead sliding your shoes off and walking towards the kitchen where you set the thermos down. He followed, hands tucked in his pockets as he watched you move around his kitchen, pulling out a bowl and a spoon from their resting places.
You placed the bowl down next to the thermos and unscrewed the lid silently, pouring out a very hearty looking stew. It smelled amazing, the scent of meat, herbs, and potatoes invading his senses. “Jihoon said you aren’t exactly sick. Just that during this time, you don’t feel well,” you said as you finished pouring the hot stew into the bowl, setting the thermos down and pushing the bowl towards your boyfriend, holding out the spoon.
Soonyoung glanced at the spoon and the bowl before looking at you. “Here’s what’s going to happen.” you said leaning over the counter. Soonyoung’s eyes dipped down to your chest, the curve of your breast visible down your shirt from where he stood. “You’re going to take the damn spoon and eat while I talk. Sound good?” 
Soonyoung nodded, moving to sit at the kitchen island and grabbing the spoon from your hand. The moment your skin met, electricity and heat spread throughout his body, the urge to pounce on you from across the counter trying to take the reins but he managed to push it down and simply started eating.
You watched him take a few bites before speaking.
“I know you’re a weretiger,” you said softly, drawing his attention as he looked up at you, his mouth full of bits of beef and potatoes. “Jihoon told me everything. I will admit I’m a little shocked you didn’t tell me all of this but I can’t imagine it’s an easy subject to bring up so I’ll give you a pass there,” you explained. “That being said, I wish you would have just told me the truth. Did you think I would judge you? Did you think I would leave or break up with you?” 
Soonyoung swallowed the food in his mouth before speaking. “I didn’t know what to expect, actually,” he answered truthfully. “I was less scared about you finding out about me being a weretiger and more scared that I—” he hesitated, looking down at his bowl of food. You followed his gaze. “Finish eating,” you told him. “I have more to say anyway.
By the time Soonyoung had finished his bowl of stew and ate another at your insistence, you were sitting on the couch, Soonyoung resting over your legs as he hugged around your waist, his face buried in your stomach, a deep rumbling emanating from his chest as he purred happily. You stroked his hair, massaging his scalp with your finger tips.
“This is nice,” you said softly as you combed your fingers through his hair. “Mhm,” Soonyoung hummed. Silence fell over the two of you for a few minutes before you couldn’t stop yourself from asking a question that was at the forefront of your mind.
“Soonie,” you said softly, gently tugging at his hair. “Hmm?” he asked, not lifting his head or opening his eyes. “Can I ask you what you meant earlier about being scared?” You felt him stiffen under your touch before he finally lifted his head, looking up at you. “Wh-what about it?” he asked.
You brushed his hair back from his forehead, cupping his cheek at the same time. “What are you scared of, babe?” Soonyoung took a deep breath before pulling himself up to sit. “I’m scared of frightening you,” he finally answered, glancing at your hand before reaching over to take it in his.
“Of frightening me? How would you frighten me?” you asked, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. Soonyoung looked down at your joined hands before speaking. “You know how when we’re intimate?” he asked softly, not looking up as you nodded. “Yes,” you replied, a small smile on your lips. “Well, when the week of the full moon approaches, I start to… change,” he continued.
“My body starts to change.”
You sighed, rolling your eyes as your smile spread. “Is this about your heat?” you asked nonchalantly. Soonyoung’s eyes widened as his gaze snapped up to meet yours. “Y-you know about that?” he asked incredulously. You nodded, your smile only growing. “You think I’m going to learn that my boyfriend is a weretiger and not look up what all of that entails? I know everything, baby. Your heat, your transformation cycle, all of it. I also know your curse is familial and not transferred by bites or scratches. Jihoon told me that part though,” you said, reaching up to brush his hair back again.
“And I already know what happens to your cock, so there’s no need to explain that to me.”
Soonyoung’s eyes widened comically. “I learned that on my own by reading. Jihoon did not inform me of that part,” you added, reaching up to bop the end of his nose with the tip of your finger. “I know all about the sexual changes, the heat cycle, the penile spines, copulation, all of it. I know everything.”
Soonyoung wasn’t sure whether he should be impressed, alarmed, or relieved. He felt a mixture of all three as he sat there on his couch with you. “Do you also know about the insatiable urge I have to be buried inside you whenever you’re around?” he asked, noticing how your eyes widened slightly. “No,” you answered softly before a smirk started to form.
“But now I do.”
Soonyoung could feel heat creeping up his neck towards his face at the same time heat settled in the pit of his stomach. A new smell invaded his nostrils. The smell of arousal but it wasn’t his own. He glanced down quickly before looking back up. “Can you smell me?” you asked, tilting your head to the side, the smirk still present on your face. He nodded slowly, holding your gaze.
You leaned back against the arm of the couch, spreading your legs slightly. Soonyoung’s eyes fluttered shut as the scent hit him stronger. He could feel his cock painfully hard in his pants. “Baby,” Soonyoung said softly as a shiver ran up his spine, that insatiable need to bury his cock inside your warm cunt starting to take over. “If you don’t stop me,” he continued, opening his eyes to meet your gaze.
“I won’t be able to stop myself. I’ll…” he trailed off as your hands moved, sliding down your body. “I don’t know what I’ll do,” he said, swallowing thickly as his eyes followed your hands. “Maybe that’s what I want,” you said softly. “Maybe I want you to pounce on me.”
Soonyoung turned his head, averting his gaze as he tried to steady his erratic breathing. He felt the couch move and then your hand under his chin, turning his head to face you. “Don’t look away from me,” you said in a low voice. “I don’t want to hurt you,” Soonyoung whispered, reaching up to cup your cheek. “I promise you won’t,” you replied, leaning into his touch.
“I want you to let it take control. You need this,” you continued, taking one of his hands and guiding it between your thighs, pressing his fingers against your cloth covered crotch. “Pin me down, Soonie. Fuck me like I know you want to.”
Soonyoung let out a sound between a moan and a growl as he closed the distance,  the hand on your cheek sliding to the back of your neck to pull you into a bruising kiss, his tongue immediately sliding into your mouth. You moaned as he pushed you back onto the couch, pinning you down with his weight alone. 
You could feel his erection in his pants press against you, rutting slightly. “I don’t think I can wait,” he murmured against your lips, hands moving to pull at your shorts. “Then don’t,” you urged as he pulled back, fingers working to undo the tie of your shorts. He made quick work of them, pulling them and your panties off. “Shirt off,” he grumbled as he pulled his own off.
You watched him instead as he undid his pants. He glanced up at you. “What’re you doing?” he asked, his hands stilling. “I’m watching you,” you replied. “He glanced down at your shirt. “Shirt. Off,” he repeated. “What?” you asked, feigning ignorance. “You heard me,” Soonyoung growled as he stared you down. “Take. It. Off. Now.” 
You let out a giggle before complying, pulling your shirt off as he resumed undoing his pants and pushing them down, kicking them off before leaning over you, lips kissing a path up your chest to your neck. “Turn over,” he whispered in your ear.
You did as he asked, rolling over onto your stomach as he leaned over your back. You felt him rub his cheek against your shoulder. “What are you doing?” you asked with a chuckle. “Marking you,” he replied simply. “Don’t worry about it,” he added as he grabbed one of the pillows and guided you to lift your hips, placing the pillow under you.
With your hips raised, he guided the head of his cock to your slit, gathering your arousal on the tip before starting to push into you with a guttural moan. You gasped as he stretched you, the spines on his cock creating a rough but not entirely unpleasant texture as he bottomed out.
“Oh shit,” you gasped as he pulled back, the spikes raking your walls slightly. He thrusted into you harshly and you cried out. Soonyoung leaned over your back, covering your mouth with his hand. “The neighbors will complain, kitten,” he whispered in your ear. “You have to be quiet.”
He gave you another harsh thrust, slamming into you roughly as he set a brutal and unrelenting pace. “Is it too much?” he asked breathlessly. You shook your head, biting into your bottom lip to keep from screaming out in pleasure. You couldn’t hold back when you felt his teeth sink into your shoulder. “Fuck, sorry baby,” he panted as he pounded into you.
“S’okay,” you gasped, walls spasming around him as he send you hurtling towards your orgasm which hit you, the strength making your legs shake as he continued to fuck you through it. “Are you okay?” he groaned as your cunt continued to flutter around his cock. You nodded in response. “Y-yes,” you gasped. “I’m – ah! – M’fine — oh god, Soonyoung!”
A second orgasm washed over you and still he kept thrusting, not showing any signs of slowing down. You knew by the end of it you were going to be a bruised, panting, sticky mess but you couldn’t be bothered to care now that he wasn’t holding back and showing you a new side to him you’d never experienced. As he sent you toppling over the edge of your third orgasm, he finally came without warning as he sank his teeth into your shoulder again as his load exploded inside you, painting your walls in his sticky white essence.
“Fuck!” he growled as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. “Sorry,” he murmured, pressing wet kissing against your skin. “Didn’t mean to yell in your ear.” You merely chuckled as you shook your head. “It’s fine, babe,” you replied. “Was I too rough?” he asked suddenly and again you answered with a shake of your head. “No,” you answered. “That was great. In fact,” you said as you lifted your head.
“I’m coming over more often to help with your heat if it means you’ll fuck me like that.”
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candyskiez · 1 year ago
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so, you've heard shows be recommended because they had gay characters. you don't really know what they're actually about though, and don't know if they'd be something you'd be into and are worried about spoilers. here's spoiler free plot summaries of em!
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The Owl House
The Owl House starts out as a typical teenage girl goes into a fantasy realm story, but with a twist. Actions have consequences. The protagonist is a girl named Luz Noceda, who was being sent to a camp to make her behave normally by her mother after causing too much trouble at school. She ends up finding a place she's always dreamed of: a fantasy world. A world where everyone's so much weirder than she is. And she thinks, maybe if I don't belong out there, maybe people will like me here. Maybe I can be special here.
It's a story about found family, propaganda, erased history, living with disability, religious trauma, and neurodivergence. It's fundamentally a show about people who's brains work differently finding each other and making a family that treats them right. Definitely my favorite of the ones on this list. It's about people who've been oppressed being pissed about it and about finding yourself again after giving up on everyone around you for so long. It's basically a show about being a minority and trying to be understood and to understand yourself in the process. It's about growing up neurodivergent and how isolating it feels and figuring yourself out. It's about repairing broken relationships and parents who fuck up. And it's just. Such a love letter to anyone who was the weird kid in school. It's sad and heartbreaking and also so hopeful, and it's wonderful.
Content warnings: Abuse, Death, Grief, Animal Death, Suicidal thoughts, Vague suicide attempts, Depression, blink and you'll miss it s/h, body horror, religious trauma
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She Ra and the Princesses Of Power
Adora was raised in the Horde since she was a baby, being fed propaganda about how cruel the princesses were. After learning how the horde actually was, though, she defects. But there's one problem. Her best friend, Catra, stays behind. Adora finds a sword that can transform her into She Ra, and might be the key to figuring out who she really is, while Catra takes her place as force captain.
It's a story about abuse, at the end of the day. Adora and Catra were stuck in a golden child and scapegoat dynamic, despite how much they care about each other. This leads to them knowing everything about each other but not understanding it. There's a fundamental disconnect between them, because both of their traumas are completely different. They have complete misconceptions about each other. Even in their initial split, they both have completely different perceptions of what's going on and why the other is upset. It's not a story about magic princesses, it's about the cycle of abuse and what makes it so complicated. Does it have flaws? Yeah. But ultimately I really really enjoy it, and when it does something right it does something RIGHT. Get through season one, it starts kids show-y but it gets very good during later s1.
Content warnings: Abuse (obviously), body horror, gaslighting (and I mean actual gaslighting, not what the Internet thinks gaslighting is), suicide, depression, flashing lights and eyestrain during the finale
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Steven Universe
Steven Universe is a sins of the father story. Steven is the son of the leader of the rebel group The Crystal Gems, who's name was Rose Quartz. He navigates the confusion of being half gem and half human, as well as trying to figure out the mess of the rebellion and what his mother left behind. He's constantly in her shadow, for better or for worse.
It's a story about grief. How it impacts relationships, how it taints history, how it impacts family. It has some definite flaws, but ultimately it's about very flawed people who have lost so many people in their life trying to cope with it. Trying to handle what they lost and trying to adjust to life without them. It's about how expectations fuck a kid up and about agency and just a show about complicated relationships in general, at the end of the day. Also, it has some FANTASTIC music.
Content warnings: Grief, Abuse, body horror, very creepy people I don't know how to tag, heavy allegories for homophobia
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Nimona
Nimona is a story about a guy who gets framed for murder. His name is Ballister Boldheart, a commoner who hoped to become a knight. It seemed everyone was waiting to watch him fail, so it was no surprise when he was the immediate target. Heavily injured and away from the man he loves, he's left alone trying to figure out a way to prove his innocence- until a strange kid comes into his life. This kids name is Nimona, and while he is intent on proving his innocence, she gave up on being anything but a villain a long time ago.
It's about deconstructing the model minority myth, trans rage, propaganda, and with a healthy dose of "FUCK the police".
Content warnings: Heavy injury, on screen suicide attempt, flashing lights
feel free to add more shows! just remember to keep the summaries as spoiler free as you can and add content warnings!
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