#shapeshifter!reader

Your ears swivel. A warning growl rumbles low in your chest as a new scent drifts up—male, unfamiliar, but not threatening. Not yet.

A head appears at the top of the ladder: short mohawk, bright blue eyes, a cautious smile. Human. Mostly. You catch the faint hint of cat underneath—Scottish forest cat, maybe.

John MacTavish freezes when he sees you.

He’s home on leave, crashing in his parents’ farmhouse for the first time in years. He came out to the barn for some quiet, maybe shift and stretch his legs in cat form away from prying eyes.

He didn’t expect to find a wary queen and four nursing kittens.

“Easy, lass,” he says softly, voice low and gentle, hands open and visible. “Not gonna hurt ye.”

You don’t relax, but you don’t bolt either. The kittens are too small to move quickly, and you’re too tired to fight if it comes to it. You just watch him, ears flat, tail lashing once.

Johnny stays on the top rung for a long minute, letting you scent him, letting you decide. Then he very slowly pulls a small tin from his pocket—tuna. He cracks it open; the smell hits the air and your stomach clenches painfully. You haven’t eaten properly in days.

He sets the tin on the floor of the loft, well within your reach but far enough that he’s not crowding you, and backs down a few rungs.

“I’ll leave ye to it,” he murmurs. “Barn’s warm enough. Door’s cracked if ye need out. No one’ll bother ye here.”

He disappears.

You wait another minute, then creep forward and devour the tuna in desperate gulps.

He comes back the next morning with more food—proper wet kitten food for you, since you’re nursing—and a soft blanket. Leaves them the same way: at a respectful distance, then retreats.

By the third day, you let him sit on the loft floor while you eat.

By the fifth, you shift to human form for the first time in weeks—curled naked in the blankets, kittens tucked against your chest—so you can speak.

“Thank you,” you say, voice hoarse from disuse. “For not… making me leave.”

Johnny’s sitting cross-legged a few feet away, careful not to stare even though you’re covered. His ears—human now, but you can tell where the feline ones would be—are tinted pink.

“Least I could do,” he says quietly. “Ye’ve got wee ones to feed. Place is mine as much as anyone’s.”

You study him. He’s big—broad shoulders, thick arms—but there’s something careful in the way he holds himself around you and the kittens. Like a gentle giant.

“You don’t have to keep feeding us,” you say matter-of-factly.

“Aye, I do,” he replies, simple as that. “Not leavin’ a queen and her bairns to fend for themselves. Not my way.”

The kittens are four weeks old when the smallest one—a little black-and-white tom—opens his eyes for the first time and stares straight at Johnny with tiny, unfocused curiosity. Johnny’s face goes soft in a way you’ve never seen a man before.

“Can I…?” he asks in quiet awe, nodding toward the nest.

You hesitate, then nod slowly.

He crawls closer, slow and deliberate, and lets the kitten sniff his finger. When the little one butts his head against it, Johnny’s grin is wide and helpless.

“Och, you’re a brave one, eh?”

You watch him let all four of them climb clumsily over his hands, listening to him murmur nonsense in a soft Scots burr—calling them “wee terrors” and “perfect little monsters”—and something tight in your chest unclenches for the first time since you realised you were alone.

Weeks slide by.

Johnny’s leave stretches. He tells his parents some half-truths and spends most days in the barn with you. He brings proper food, soft blankets, a little space heater when the nights turn cold. He sits with you in human form and talks—about his team, his work, his life. You tell him about the alley cat who left, about how scared you were but kept pushing on for your babies.

He never pushes. Never asks for anything.

But when you shift to cat form to nurse the kittens and he shifts too—big, powerful tabby with the same bright blue eyes—you feel the low, steady rumble of his purr vibrate through the straw as he curls carefully around the edge of your nest, not touching, just there.

One evening, the kittens finally asleep in a warm pile, you shift back to human and find him watching you with something careful and aching in his expression.

“You could stay,” he says quietly. “After my leave ends. Mam and Da wouldn’t mind. There’s room in the house. Proper heat. A garden the wee ones can play in when they’re bigger.”

You swallow. “Why?”

He shrugs, jug ears red. “Because ye shouldn’t have to do it alone. And because—” He rubs the back of his flushed neck. “Because I want ye here. All of ye.”

You look at the kittens. At the soft blanket he brought today. At the gentle way he’s already learned which one likes to sleep on his chest when he’s in cat form, which one tends to start crawling away to explore when none of you is looking.

You scoot closer until your shoulder brushes his.

“Okay,” you whisper eventually, allowing the softest smile to tug at the corner of your lips.

His smile, in return, is small and stunned and radiant.

Later, when the barn is dark and the kittens are fed and sleeping, you curl against his side in human form—warm skin to warm skin for the first time—and let him wrap an arm around you.

He presses a careful kiss to your temple.

“Got ye now, lass,” he murmurs into your hair. “Not goin’ anywhere.”

And for the first time since those two pink lines appeared on the stick you scavenged from a bin, you believe it.

You’re not alone anymore. You have a home.

You and your babies have Johnny—and he is staying.

You feel a pull towards someone else. Someone who carries his immeasurable strength with quiet dignity, someone who would be honourable enough to fight for a lowly knight against his own kin because it was the right thing to do. And you might call him a fool for it too, but you don't get to curse anyone but yourself when you run away from the crowd, let the flames consume you, and you step in to save Baelor from the cruel, untimely death that you have just witnessed in a flame a few minutes before it would come true.

And now they all know, for the first time in a long time, there's a living, breathing dragon in Westeros. Fortunately, no one but the mad prince knows it's you.

SHAPESHIFTER!READER... who comes from a planet that no longer exists— its name lost to time aside from its former inhabitants and their descendants. those who survived its destruction millennia ago have resettled all across the galaxy, and it does help that their species’ abilities make assimilating that much easier.

SHAPESHIFTER!READER... whose parents chose to settle in the heart of gotham in the 90s, doing their best to stay under the radar and keep unwanted eyes off of them. unlike her parents, shapeshifter!reader always wanted more for herself, even if it meant stepping into the limelight and making her name a household one. her hard work is quickly beginning to pay off, and if she uses the powers her parents worked so hard to conceal... no one’s the wiser.

SHAPESHIFTER!READER... whose main abilities include altering her appearance, whether it be as simple as the length of her hair to shifting into a completely-different person. most days, though, she just makes little “adjustments” here and there to get the job done. minor changes are like breathing, major ones wear down on her the longer she maintains them. it’s all fun and games until she’s collapsing from holding a shift for so long it makes her nose bleed. but she’ll do it again if it means making her way up the modeling world’s ranks.

SHAPESHIFTER!READER... who makes a name for herself as a model. an it girl in her own right, shapeshifter!reader takes pride in being whatever the casting directors, the fashion houses, and the masses want her to be. she needs a little height boost during a casting call? done. her hair needs a dye job for a photoshoot? she’s got it covered. the casting directors are looking something else? whatever she needs to change, she’ll change— it’s only one night, one photoshoot, one magazine cover… until it isn’t.

SHAPESHIFTER!READER... who’s maybe bitten off more than she can chew. the more eyes she draws, the more she finds herself craving the life she left behind. there’s no more fading into the background like she used to; there always seems to be someone on the lookout for the model who took metropolis by storm. once wishing for the chance to be somebody, shapeshifter!reader now wishes for someone to understand her for who she is, not who they think she is. no tricks, no illusions, just reality.

꩜ ambitious ꩜ enigmatic ꩜ people pleaser ꩜ convoluted ꩜ feels deeply ꩜ works to the bone ꩜ jaded ꩜ cautious ꩜ grounded ꩜ pensive ꩜ lonely ꩜ searching for her place ꩜

BEST PAIRED WITH...

C. KENT : the empathetic journalist.

L. LUTHOR : the egotistical tech mogul.

B. WAYNE : the elusive prince of gotham.

He dragged himself to his room, still half in tactical gear, kicked off his boots, and opened the door to find…

You. In cat form.

Curled up dead center on his bed.

A perfect little loaf with paws tucked under, tail wrapped around, and eyes squinted in smug feline bliss. You didn’t even lift your head. You just blinked slowly at him, like you were doing him a favor by allowing him into his own room.

He stared. “No.”

You blinked again. Yes.

“I need to sleep.”

You stretched one paw lazily and yawned in an exaggerated, almost theatrical way.

Bucky sighed the way only a man who’s fought in multiple wars and still lost a bed to an eight-pound shifter-cat could. He approached the bed. “Come on. Off.”

You flopped to your side, showing your belly in a deceptively adorable display of innocence.

He frowned. “You’re not gonna move, are you?”

You chirped. A soft, high-pitched little meow that sounded for all the world like a definitive “nope.”

With the patience of a saint and the expression of a man seconds from swearing in every known language, Bucky gingerly scooped you up and held you like a slightly cursed loaf of bread.

Therefore, you responded by executing your best defense measures. You immediately went limp. Full ragdoll. Zero bones. Pure, spiteful jellycat mode.

He tried to place you at the foot of the bed.

You squirmed and climbed up his arm, momentarily perching on his shoulder like a little parrot-cat before backflipping right back into your previous loaf position. You curled up as if the interaction hadn’t even happened.

Bucky stared at you in pure betrayal. “Seriously?”

You tucked your head down.

He sat on the edge of the mattress. It was a big bed. King-sized. There was room.

So, fine. He figured he’d just lie down and ignore you.

Ten minutes later: you were slowly, imperceptibly inching closer.

He felt it. Like a cat-shaped glacier scooting toward his ribs.

When he cracked one eye open, you were three inches from his chest, staring directly at his face.

He exhaled sharply. “You planning to smother me in my sleep?”

You gently reached out one paw and touched his cheek.

He muttered something that was half curse, half exhausted laugh, and rolled to his side.

You followed. Instantly.

Eventually, Bucky gave up and just curled around you. One arm draped over your fluffball body, like some reluctant pet owner who did not ask for this, but also didn’t really want to move you anymore either.

“I swear, if you start snoring-“

PrrrRRRRrrrrr.

He groaned into the pillow. You purred louder. The bed was officially yours.

-

The next morning, Sam passed by Bucky’s room, paused at the door, and snapped a picture.

You were stretched across Bucky’s chest, limbs sprawled in all directions. His metal arm was dangling off the edge of the bed while he was unconscious, mouth slightly open, and looking like a man who hadn’t gotten a single inch of his side.

The photo was uploaded to the team group chat with the caption: “Cat: 1. Terminator: 0.”

“Let me know if you need backup, doll.” Bucky says.

“I will. The same goes for you, baby.” You say with a smile.

Like every mission, you and Bucky give each other a good luck kiss before the start of the mission. This mission, you and Bucky are with the rest of the Avengers at a HYDRA base to get information. Everything was going great until someone grabbed you from behind. The person covered your mouth with a cloth and took your ear piece and crushed it in pieces. You passed out by inhaling whatever chemical was on the cloth.

“Doll, I found what we needed.” Bucky informs you.

Bucky frowns, expecting you to respond back. Usually you respond to him within a few seconds, but you didn’t.

“Doll, you there?” He asks.

Bucky waited a few seconds, but you still didn’t respond. He assumed the battery on your ear piece went out so he looked all over the base for you, but he couldn’t find you. Then he thought you already got back on the quinjet so he went that way. You weren’t on the quinjet when he got on it.

“Have you guys seen Y/N?” Bucky asks the Avengers.

“I thought she was with you.” Steve says.

“She was, but now I can’t find her. I looked everywhere.” Bucky says.

The Avengers knew what that meant, but they didn’t want to upset Bucky.

“What do you guys know that I don’t know?” Bucky asks.

“Buck…” Steve begins softly.

“No.” Bucky shook his head. “Y/N knows how to fight. She would’ve gotten away easily.” He says.

“Y/N is an incredible fighter, but maybe not in this case.” Steve says.

Bucky knew what Steve meant. He just didn’t want to believe it.

6 MONTHS LATER…

6 months go by and there’s still no sign of you since that day. Bucky, Steve, and the Avengers looked everywhere for you, but they couldn’t find you. As much as they hate to even think about it, but they assumed that you’re dead, except Bucky. He refuses to come to terms with you being dead. He knows you’re alive and still out there somewhere.

Bucky hasn’t gone on a single mission since that day. He hasn’t gone to meetings for upcoming missions either. Sometimes, he goes to the gym to punch the punching bag till it rips and sand is leaking out of it. Mostly, he stays in yours and his shared bedroom. He’s also been drinking a lot, but it’s not doing him any good since he can’t get drunk due to the Super Soldier serum. Steve and the Avengers are always checking on him and try to get him to leave the bedroom, but he doesn’t budge.

“Buck, you need to get some fresh air.” Steve says softly.

“I’m fine right here.” Bucky says.

“Y/N wouldn’t want you to do this to yourself.” Wanda says.

“What am I doing to myself?” Bucky asks.

“Not taking care of yourself.” Steve says.

“I’m trying, ok?” Bucky said. “I’m too drained and tired to do anything besides sit here.” He says.

Steve and Wanda could hear the tiredness in his voice, along with sadness. They didn’t want to keep pestering him about getting out of bed so they just left him alone.

Later that week, the Avengers, minus Bucky, went on a mission to a HYDRA base. The same base where you were kidnapped during the last mission Bucky went on. Getting inside of the base and roaming the halls was the easy part. Steve and Natasha could sense that something was off. They just couldn’t figure out what it is. Then they froze when they heard a low growl followed by a whimper.

“Did you hear that?” Steve asks Natasha.

“Yes. Is it a dog or something?” Natasha says.

“It’s not a dog.” Steve says.

Steve and Natasha stared at the tiger walking towards them. There was blood on the tiger’s mouth and paws. They didn’t move a muscle. The tiger stopped just a few feet away from them.

“Why isn’t it trying to kill us or eat us alive?” Natasha whispers.

“I don’t know.” Steve whispers.

Steve and Natasha froze even more if it’s even possible when the tiger walked closer to them. Steve noticed a collar around the tiger’s neck. He furrows his eyebrows as he stared at the collar. There’s a name on the tag of the collar that says “Y/N”. That’s when Steve figured it out. You’re the tiger.

“It’s Y/N.” Steve says.

“How?” Natasha asks.

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” He says.

The tiger sat down and stared at Steve and Natasha as if they were about to give it a treat.

“Y/N?” Steve says softly and cautiously.

You tilted your head when you heard your name.

“It’s Steve.” He begins. “You don’t need to be scared.” He says.

You kept staring at him as he continued to talk to you.

“Do you remember Bucky? Your boyfriend?” He says. “He misses you. He’s not doing well.” He says.

You tilted your head like you understand everything he’s saying. You continued to stare at Steve as he slowly and cautiously approached you. Usually, someone approaching you sets you off, but you sensed that Steve is a trusting person. You head butted his hand, making you smile. You let out a small whimper like you’re trying to communicate with him.

“I’ll take you home to Bucky.” Steve says softly.

You head butted his hand once more before standing up and walking beside Steve and Natasha to the quinjet. The rest of the Avengers were already on the quinjet.

“Where the hell did you guys find a tiger?” Tony asks as Steve and Natasha got on the quinjet with you.

“It’s Y/N.” Steve says.

“How is that Y/N?” Sam asks.

“Her name is on the collar and she knows who I am.” Steve says.

The Avengers didn’t ask any more questions. Steve’s only priority right now is to get you home to Bucky. To the Avengers surprise, you’re very obedient as a tiger. They weren’t scared of you at all. Steve got you set up in a room before going to get Bucky.

“Bucky, I have amazing news for you.” Steve says as he walks in yours and Bucky’s bedroom.

“If it’s not about Y/N, I’m not interested.” Bucky says.

“Y/N is here.” Steve says.

“That’s not funny, Steve.” Bucky says.

“I’m being serious.” Steve says.

Bucky sat upright and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Y/N is here?” Bucky asks, making sure he heard him right.

“Yes, but I should prepare you.” Steve begins. “She’s not her normal self.” He says.

“No one is their normal self after being tortured by HYDRA.” Bucky says.

“There’s that, but that’s not what I’m talking about?” Steve says.

“Then what do I need to be prepared for?” Bucky asks.

“It seems that HYDRA somehow gave Y/N powers to make her turn into a tiger.” Steve says.

Bucky’s jaw clenched at the thought of HYDRA experimenting on you.

“Where is she?” Bucky asks.

“Downstairs in the lab.” Steve says.

“Please tell me you guys didn’t chain her up.” Bucky says.

“We would never do that to her.” Steve says.

Bucky took a deep breath, preparing himself. He stood up from the bed and went downstairs to the lab. He stopped in the doorway of the lab, his breath hitching when he saw you in tiger form.

“Doll?” Bucky says softly.

Even as a tiger, you recognized your boyfriend’s voice and the nickname he always calls you. You turned your full attention to him. Bucky walked towards you and held his right hand out to you. You backed away until you walked backwards into the wall, thinking that Bucky wouldn’t love you the same way as he did before.

“Doll, you can trust me. You know I love you.” He says softly.

You stared at him for a moment before slowly approaching him. You head butted his hand, making him smile. Bucky crouched down to your level so he could hug you. You immediately melted into his touch and started purring.

“I’m so sorry, doll. I should’ve looked harder for you.” Bucky says softly, his voice cracking.

You could sense that he’s upset. You rested your chin on his hand and started purring like you’re trying to tell him that you forgive him.

“We’ll get this figured out and get you back to your human form, babydoll.” He says.

You gave him a kiss on his cheek in response, making him smile.

Bucky called Shuri and told her what happened to you and got her to the Avengers compound to help you get turned back to your human form. The Avengers are helping too. Bucky stayed by your side. He made himself comfortable on the floor in the lab by you. Your head was resting on his lap.

“You know, you’re cute as a tiger, doll.” Bucky compliments softly as he gently rubs his hand against your back, making you purr.

Shuri and the Avengers worked together to figure out something that’ll turn you back to your human form.

“This should work.” Shuri says, walking over to where you and Bucky are on the floor.

“What is it?” Bucky asks, staring at the syringe.

“It’s a medicine concoction that’ll turn her back to her human form. It’ll turn her back to her human form after I inject her with it.” She says.

“Do it.” He says.

Bucky made sure to keep you calm as Shuri injected you with the medicine concoction she made. You made a small whimpering noise when the needle pricked your skin under your fur.

“You’re ok, doll.” Bucky whispers.

It took a few seconds for you turn back into your human form. Bucky smiles, happy that it worked on the first try. He found a blanket and wrapped it around you.

“Bucky?” You asked softly.

“It’s me, doll.” Bucky almost whispers.

“I missed you.” You say, tearing up.

“I missed you too.” He says.

Bucky took you to yours and his bedroom to get cleaned up. You relaxed in the bathtub while Bucky cleaned you up. He saw marks on your arms from the time HYDRA experimented on you and red marks on your neck from the shock collar HYDRA put on you when you weren’t listening.

“I remember everything HYDRA did to me. They didn’t wipe my memory. All the needles and experiments hurt. They put some kind of shock collar around my neck and electrocuted me when I wouldn’t listen. I hated everything they did to me, Bucky.” You spoke softly, your eyes tearing up.

Bucky’s heart broke for you as he listened to every word you said. He wants nothing more than to kill every single HYDRA agent who experimented on you and hurt you. That’s the furthest thing on his mind. His main priorities are to protect and take care of you.

“You’re safe now, babydoll. They won’t hurt you anymore.” Bucky almost whispers.

Bucky helped you out of the bathtub and helped you dry off. You put on clean clothes and laid down on the bed. It feels good to be laying in a bed instead of a hard concrete floor for the first time in months. Bucky laid down behind you and protectively wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to him.

“The reason why I backed away from you earlier is because I thought you didn’t love me anymore.” You say.

“Why would you think that, doll?” Bucky asks.

“I’m a freak now.” You say.

“Never say that about yourself again. I love you no matter what, babydoll. You’re still the same woman I fell in love with when I came back from Wakanda.” He says.

“You don’t mean that.” You say, your voice cracking.

“I do mean it.” Bucky almost whispers.

You turned your head to look at your boyfriend. Bucky leans in and kisses you softly and passionately.

“I love you so much, doll.” He whispers.

“I love you too, Bucky Bear.” You whispered back.

———

Now that you know how to shapeshift in a controlled way without being harmed or experimented on, you sometimes walk around the compound in tiger form. You mainly do it to protect Bucky and the Avengers.

Bucky lets the Avengers know ahead of time that you’re going to shapeshift into your tiger form so they don’t get startled. He doesn’t tell Sam just to mess with him. Right now, Sam enters the lounge room and gets startled by you in your tiger form on the couch.

“God damn it! I told you not to scare me like that!” Sam says, putting his hand on his chest where his heart is.

Bucky was laughing his ass off. Sam narrowed his eyes at him.

“I hate you sometimes.” Sam says to Bucky.

“Sorry not sorry.” Bucky says, still laughing.

Bucky stopped laughing after a few seconds and took another few seconds to catch his breath from laughing.

“Come on, doll. Let’s go train the recruits.” Bucky says.

You jumped down from the couch and walked alongside Bucky to go train the new recruits. The recruits didn’t really seem scared of you. They were pointing at you and gossiping about you.

“Is there a reason why you guys aren’t training?” Bucky asks in his Sergeant voice.

“We were wondering why you brought your pet to work with you today.” One of the recruits said, making everyone laugh.

“First of all, never call my girlfriend a pet. Secondly, you guys are going to wish that you didn’t say that.” He says.

“Why?” The recruit asks.

“Doll.” He says, looking down at you.

You walked closer to the recruits like you were hunting prey and growled in a scary way at them. The recruits eyes went wide and they didn’t dare to move a muscle. You stopped scaring them after a few seconds and walked back over to Bucky and sat down on the floor next to him.

“That’s my girl.” Bucky smiles down at you, rubbing his hand against your head, making you purr.

But tonight was different.

He wasn’t alone.

You, the shapeshifter, had been trailing him for weeks now, shifting between forms in an attempt to learn more about the ways of humanity. Something about Boothill’s brash nature and self-assured confidence drew you in. You admired his oddity, the way he seemed like an out-of-place relic of a bygone era—someone who didn’t fit the mold of the modern galaxy, yet was fiercely determined to leave his mark on it.

You'd taken the form of a small creature at first, darting in and out of his peripheral vision, observing his every move. At first, you hadn’t thought much of your fascination with him. But the more you followed him, the more you found yourself intrigued by the way he interacted with the world. He didn’t care for anyone's opinion, didn't seek validation. His sense of justice was raw, untamed, much like the world he once came from.

And then, without warning, you took on the form of a human. It wasn’t perfect, but it was close enough for him to notice. You hoped, perhaps, that he would teach you how to walk, how to talk, how to be... human.

Tonight, you had taken the form of a traveler—like so many others you had observed from afar. Dressed in neutral clothing that allowed you to blend in, you sat just beyond Boothill’s gaze, watching him with wide eyes as he studied the desert horizon.

He spoke without turning to look at you, his voice as deep as the canyon walls.

“You think you’ve figured it out yet?” Boothill asked, his fingers idly twirling the barrel of his gun, his eyes scanning the endless stretch of dust and ruin.

You shuffled slightly, a nervous habit you had picked up in your human form, and nodded hesitantly. You didn’t speak, not yet—he hadn’t asked you directly, after all. You had learned over the past few weeks that Boothill didn’t care for pleasantries. He didn’t need them. It was why you admired him so much.

"You don't have to follow me, you know," he muttered, his voice sounding tired yet somewhat amused. "It's not a game. I’m not here to be some kind of guide."

But even as he spoke, he knew you wouldn’t leave. You had already proven to be relentless. Not in a bothersome way, but in a way that made him pause—wondering what drove you to cling to his shadow.

There was something familiar about you, though. It wasn't the form you wore or the strange air of curiosity you carried, but something deeper. Maybe it was the way your gaze lingered on him or how you seemed to study every motion, every gesture he made, as though trying to unravel the mystery of who he was. It made him think—something he didn’t often do.

“Why me?” he asked, this time finally glancing at you. His eyes narrowed in genuine curiosity.

You hesitated, the answer both simple and complex. “You... are different," you said softly, your voice tinged with the faintest edge of uncertainty. "You seem... human, even though you aren’t. I want to learn from you. How to be like you."

Boothill tilted his head, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Human? Ain't nothing human about me."

You tilted your head, mimicking the gesture, your human form still awkward but growing stronger each day. "But you have emotions. You act. You care. You... fight for something. That’s what makes you human, right?"

The smirk faded, and for a moment, Boothill was silent. His mechanical hand clenched around the worn leather of his gun, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. His gaze turned inward for a long beat before he spoke, the words low and heavy.

"You really think I fight for something?" he asked. His voice was laced with a bitterness that seemed out of place—like a man who had lost everything yet couldn’t stop moving. "I fight because the world needs someone to fight for it. It’s not about being human or not. It's about surviving. The IPC—they took everything from me."

You wanted to reach out to him, to comfort him in some way, but you had learned that Boothill wasn’t the type to accept comfort. Not in any form.

Instead, you simply nodded, your gaze softening. You could feel the weight of his past pressing against you, and it made your heart ache, something you weren’t entirely sure you should feel. You had been born from a thousand different creatures, a being who had never known grief or pain in the way humans did.

But you were starting to understand it now. You understood him.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, the words feeling almost foreign as they slipped from your lips. You hadn't expected the empathy to feel so... real.

Boothill sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping slightly. He was a complex man, even more so than he appeared. “You don’t have to apologize. Life ain’t fair. And I’m not here to teach anyone how to live. But if you’re gonna follow me, you better be ready. This ain’t a road for the faint of heart.”

"I can handle it," you said with more conviction than you felt, your human form now feeling a bit more natural, your voice steady.

Boothill gave you a long, calculating look before finally nodding. He didn’t offer much else in terms of explanation, but it was clear you had passed some unspoken test.

“Alright, then. Stick close. I won’t be slowing down for anyone. Not even you.”

You smiled at him, the genuine warmth shining through your usually reserved nature. "I wouldn't dream of it."

As you walked alongside Boothill, the moonlight casting long shadows on the ground beneath you, you couldn’t help but feel a little closer to the human experience. Maybe you didn’t understand it all yet, but with Boothill by your side, you felt like you were on the right path.

And as long as you stayed by his side, you would keep learning—how to be human, how to be more than just a shadow in the night.

With Boothill, there was always more to discover.