#You want him to *be a woman*? The thing that killed his mom?

[alarajrogers]

He's a leader, an inspiring figure, but not physically powerful. She's a badass -- a killer, a superhuman, someone the world fears -- and she will do anything to make sure his vision comes true. Including things he would hate to know about.

She's a leader, an inspiring figure. He's her strong second-in-command, totally loyal, smart and capable and people like him. He could be in command if he wanted to be, but he knows she's better at it, so he happily assists her.

One is a wizard. One is a sharpshooter, swordfighter, or martial artist. They fight crime!

She's his bodyguard.

They're on opposite sides of the conflict. They hate each other. They love each other. They try to kill each other but maybe not as hard as they could be trying.

He's a superhero. She was a superhero, until something disillusioned her, and now she tries to convince him he's on the wrong side, and he tries to convince her that she is. They are actually having sex, not just UST'ing.

He's a hero. She's a dragon. Do with that what you will.

He's naive and idealistic. She's cynical and jaded. But oh, how she wants to believe in the world he sees... even as she tries to convince him of the world as she knows it, because she doesn't want the world to hurt him.

One is a scientist. One is an elite government agent. They fight crime!

They're cops. They're partners. And when they find out how corrupt the department is, they have to rely on each other to survive as the entire police force they gave their working lives to come after them to kill them.

They're both spies. When will they find out the other one is an enemy spy?

She seems like a typical housewife. That's because the entire world wants to kill her for being the most dangerous human being alive, and no one would suspect a PTA mom of being that person. He knows what she is and will do anything he can to hide her... until the day she's forced to reveal herself to save him.

He's a starship captain. She's a trickster god.

She was born to a long line of humans who can control supernatural entities. He's a proud supernatural entity who hates how much he wants to submit to this inferior human... who has the power to control him, but won't invoke it until he asks her.

I mean, I could do this all day. Ships don't even have to be queer to be great. They just have to have the man and the woman on equal footing, with each having power though their power might be in different domains. The entire probelm with het ships is how the woman is generally in some way treated as an ancilliary to the man. Either she's better than him at everything and yet for some reason he's the chosen hero, or he's better than her at most things, or we are told she is awesome but she never gets to show it. So don't do that. Give them both power and show how they are separately both powerful, and how putting them together makes them both stronger (unless it doesn't because they're fighting each other.)

"how can m/f ships be good-" first of all through the power of bisexuality anything is possible so write that down. second of all if we start othering ships based on gender and nothing else we're no better than the opposition. third of all you need to watch more addams family

[razorblade180]

Built to Break

Trigger warning: Torture and dark themes

Continuation of this<-

In life, it’s said all actions cause a reaction; consequences that could be seen while others remained elusive until the final moment. Mona never found herself to be an elusive figure, yet as she stared into the widened, cold gaze of her mother, Mona knew immediately that she had been as poised as her hidden dagger.

“Talk?” Her mother said with a dry venom. “The hell do we have to talk about? Untie me!”

“Wow. Not even gonna ask about dad? Then again, why would you? He couldn’t even bother to sober up

enough to see you choking on smoke. Or maybe he simply didn’t care?” Mona picked up her knife, causally spinning it. “Anyways, he’s dead now.”

“Did I ask?”

“No, but I doubt you understand how. You were never that fucking bright.”

“You killed him.” Her eyes narrowed. She did her best to move her arms but the ropes wouldn’t allow it. “Doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. You’ve always been an opportunistic rat.”

“Says the woman who whored out her own daughters. You’re only half right by the way. An opportunistic rat would’ve used the blaze to commit a crime like murder or abduction.”

“And what the hell would you call all of this?”

“Simple, it was planned. After all, I am the one who started the fire.”

Mona’s mother went stiff, her blood running cold as the girl flashed a horrific grin that found this situation marvelous. Mona finally stood up and began circling around the chair.

“That’s right. It was all me. Took awhile to get that much Dust but hey, it was worth the sight. Although I should’ve guessed dad would simply remain drunk off his own ass in that chair of his. It honestly looked like he wanted to go. I mean being with you is practically being de-”

Tuh!

A lob of spit hit Mona right in the face. Her eyes darted towards her mother who was now seething. Mona ran her left hand across where the spit landed then flicked it back at the sender.

“Rude. I’m talking.” She stopped right in front of the chair and squatted real low, her gaze fixated on the anger directed towards her. “You’re forgetting your own rule. I thought we were supposed to be accommodating to those holding the power?”

Without warning, Mona’s knife found a new home in the woman’s right thigh. Before she could even yell, Mona gripped her jaw like a vice and yanked her close enough to bite.

“Yell and I will drag the knife down and pop out your knee.” She pushed her mother away and stood back up. A strained chuckle left her throat as she shook herself off. “Wooo! Hehe, got a little real there for a second. Damn, still know how to get under my skin I guess.”

“Th-The hell do you want? The fuck is this all about!?” Her voice trembled as she held back the pain.

“Finally getting emotional are we? The stone cold bitch attitude was never for you anyway. Don’t get me wrong; you’re definitely cold and a bitch. The last thing you’ll ever be is stone though. No, you’ve always been brittle. Not to mention stupid. You can’t guess why I’m here? Are you serious? If we’re playing that game then fine, I can play. So then, mother, aren’t you going to ask me if my dear little sister survived the fire?”

“Oh you can not be serious?” Rage returned. “All this for Amber? Last time I checked, you didn’t give a rat's ass about her when you ran away! Now you wanna care?! FUCK Y-”

Another knife flew through the air and found a home in the woman’s left shoulder.

“Gah! Aaagh!”

Mona put her right leg on the chair and leaned forward, looking down on her mother’s writhing face. “You really have to learn to mind your tone.” She pushed it in deeper, letting her mother’s screams echo through the metal pillars until she was sure her knife hit bone. Mona yanked the blade in her mom’s leg out and took a few steps back again to watch.

Blood now stained burnt clothes covered in ash. The pathetic excuse for a person was coughing on her own spit as she gasped in the brief agony inflicted on her body, which only prolonged the pain.

Mona rolled her eyes. “Look at you, practically drooling. What, forget how to swallow? You sure as hell made certain I didn’t. How many personal lessons did you give Amber and I? They were always so much more brutal than the real deal. How you managed that, I’ll never know.”

“So it’s all about revenge?” Her lungs wheeze as she took a sharp breath before coughing again. “Gonna do everything I ever taught you eh?”

“Fuck no. If anybody wanted your body then maybe your hands wouldn’t have been busy on us and taking lien from your old clients in exchange for fresh blood. Must’ve been a dream come true. Vacuo’s most known whore was finally free, or maybe it pissed you off that after getting pregnant from a nobody, you became one too? One child robbed you off all your worth, and apparently your looks. Guess I was born a thief.”

“You are lucky to be born at all!”

“Am I though? Should I be grateful that I have your hair? Eyes that people can’t get enough of? You’d sell those too if it was worth the cost.”

“Oh cry me river.” She growled. “You’ve been away from me for years now and all you get up to is stealing and choosing when to choke on a dick for your own profit! Don’t act like you’re torn up about it.”

Mona spun the tip of her knife on her finger. “True enough I guess. Not like there were many options I could think of at…how old was I? Eh, as if it matters. I’d probably remember if you ever sent me to school, or taught me anything that didn’t involve submitting. All that money you made off of me and nothing to show for it. What was I saying again? Oh right, I was gutter trash who only knew two ways to make money well. No fucking shit I used it.”

“Then you understand exactly where I’m-”

“Ah, ah, ah. I’m still talking, and that sentence sounded dangerously close to hurting your good leg.”

Mona threw the knife right between both legs. She walked over and startled her mother, pulling the knife out in the process. “You know…if kids really caused you so much trouble in your life, I can help make sure you never have them again.”

The blade tore away a sliver of the burnt shirt around her abdomen. Panic fought its way into her brain as Mona’s cold eyes told her that wasn’t a joke.

“I’m waiting for an answer.” Mona said calmly.

“N-No.”

“No, what?”

Tears welled up. “No ma’am.”

“Heh, good girl. I guess you do remember how to act.” Mona brought the knife up to catch her mother’s tears. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry. It’s pretty ugly. Maybe that’s why those idiots didn’t care much when Amber wept.”

“Wh-What have you heard?”

“Nothing really. Just that you were strapped for money again so you did what you always do. As long as the price is high enough, anyone is an option. How much?”

“…I-”

“How much?”

“10,000 lien! They paid 10,000 lien!”

“That’s all it took for you to hand Amber to two huntsmen so inept they couldn’t even handle a starving teenager fending them off without killing her. I didn’t even bother asking them what set her off, or if she cried. Let’s be real, we both know she did.”

“You found them?”

“Did you think foreign huntsman could kill a girl and Ruby Rose wouldn’t be all over it. Now that’s a mother. Had those two in a cell immediately and the knees made the rounds, which I’m guessing is how you heard that 10,000 lien had cost you everything. You ask why I care? Amber was nothing like me and you knew that.

Mona got up and kicked the chair, shattering it with ease and causing her mother to fall down onto the cold, sandy and metal flooring. The chains restringing her to the chair were now useless, bot the set personally bounding her legs. Mona attached her wrists together and put the link on a hook while her mother groaned. Mona took back her second knife to inflict more pain before walking over to a metal beam with a button she pressed. The hook rose, dragging a body up with it until her toes grazed the ground.

“Agh! Please, enough! I get it! You’re pissed! I fucked up!”

“Your entire life is a fuck up, and I don’t remember saying I was pissed off. You’ve done so much to me that I think I’m full circle on it. After all, you did teach me one thing about myself you never intended.”

“I…I did?” She huffed, twitching as Mona got close again.

“Put people under enough stress, and you see what they’re made of; you can see how they break. I learned long ago I was made to be broken. To be put back together as needed and torn down if need be. That’s why I don’t mind how my life has shaped out to be. It’s why I cared to come after you. I don’t give up a fuck about you! Amber however, you broke her even before I even ran away and you knew it. She stopped speaking, thinking, being anything. Amber was basically a doll. How was I supposed to take her away with me? I had no shelter. Everyone knew who we belonged to! Mother fucker, I’VE ALWAYS CARED!” Mona hissed, her eyes stinging. “You made it impossible to leave with her! Like you said, I kept doing what you taught me cause I had nowhere to go, and Amber was never built to take that life! You took my sister and left behind the pieces. Now those don’t even exist anymore and I’m left falling apart again because maybe I should’ve ran off with her anyways?! Hehe haha! It’s so STUPID! You do everything wrong and yet I’m the one feeling like a fuck up? I can barely keep down my dinner.”

Mona’s head buzzed, causing her to hold it in discomfort. She really felt like she might vomit. Was it rage, or guilt? She didn’t know or care. She just knew what she always did. “This is such bullshit.”

Her mother had given up hope of trying to escape. All her cuts had been to cause pain and bleed, but even she could tell none of them were fatal. “O-Okay. Okay, I- I’m sorry. You made your point. Just turn me in already and I’ll confess to everything.” She pleaded.

Mona’s eyes looked at the woman with a burning indifference. “Even now, you barely pay attention. Do you think you’re getting out of this before breaking? I should at least give it my all. Just like you did for us.” She spun her knives. “Every place they left a mark, I’m going to put on you. Hold out until then.”

Panic came back with a single step forward. Tears mixed with ash, sweat, grime as her heart pounded. She practically jumped out of her skin as Mona held her face still.

“I’ll keep them shallow. Those hurt the worst.” Mona slid the blade across her right cheek, drawing blood. “I thought I told you crying made you ugly. For once, you are going to follow my instructions to the letter. Do you understand?”

“Y-Yes!” She sniffed, terrified of her own creation. “I’ll do whatever you say. Then-then I go, right?”

“Haha, as long as you listen then yes, I will let you go.” Mona took a step back and smiled, watching her mother smile back faintly. “Although…I don’t think I heard a ma’am after that, yes. Someone isn’t a good rule follower.”

And just like that, light faded from the woman’s eyes, matching her daughter’s. “N..No.” tears ran down in full force. “I-I’m sorry! I’M SORRY!” Mona got closer…

“And now you’re yelling and crying again. That’s three strikes already. Pfft, oh well. It’s like you told me once, some people only learn after the punishment. Try not to see dad too soon for me. Speaking of seeing…” Mona held her mother’s eyes open. “Might as well start here.”

“St-STOP! STAAAAAHHHHP!”

[rmbunnie]

It's most likely just Starlin trying to get to Jason dying faster because he did not like Robin, but the whole "Jason's spiraling because of his grief for his parents" thing they were trying to spin was honestly really weird, not supported by the rest of the run INCLUDING the parts Starlin wrote, and kinda reads like an unreliable narrator situation because all of the information supporting it is given through Bruce's narration, him speculating on Jason's thoughts and actions.

The plot thread of Jason's grief for his family affecting his behavior shows up like TWO issues after Jason first becomes Robin back when Collins was writing, and gets sorted out after one conversation where Jason gets to confront Bruce about hiding his father's death from him for 6 months. After that Jason is behaving normally until they encounter three predators in a row, and each time Bruce insists that they can't do anything because of The Rules and assorted red tape/diplomatic immunity plotlines. (The sister of a woman who got dismembered actually tricked the violent-misogynist killer who dismembered her sister (and then got his serial killings dismissed through a technicality) into attacking her, and ends up killing him in self-defense, and then Jason's like "seems fair" and Bruce is like "no. it's NOT. we need to follow laws and not take justice into our own hands. which like wtf Bruce! you are a vigilante who just used a custom tank to fight an evil televangelist! who then got ripped to shreds by his followers while you watched!)

Bruce kinda just decides with Alfred that it must be grief upsetting him and not the dozens of brutally killed women and their predatory killers who the law inexplicably protected, (all written by Starlin, so retconning it for DitF like five issues later would be an odd move) but the only text claiming that's why Jason was upset is from Bruce's POV and through Alfred's dialogue. Jason himself doesn't display any signs of grief in the story itself, or even act or speak in a way that alludes to Catherine and Willis beyond looking at a picture of them and smiling fondly while he sorts through their possessions. He kinda just happens upon the box with his mother's info by chance, and is like ok i guess we're doing mom searches now. He was only going for a walk through his old neighborhood, not actively searching out info on his family. When Jason is deciding whether or not to run off without telling Bruce, he considers telling him and then goes "no, all he cares about is being Batman, he wouldn't even understand why I want to see my mom." Which, I mean, "Bruce wouldn't get it" is a REALLY odd angle if the sole motivator for spiraling, then getting benched* and running away to search out his bio-mom, was because he was mourning his dead parents, a thing he notably has in common with Bruce. That statement only really makes sense if he's thinking about a different thing that was greatly upsetting to him that Bruce brushed past, like maybe a combo of hiding the murder of his dad for half a year and allowing several cases involving sexual violence to freely develop body counts in the name of the law.

Lots of people have written about how Jason's stay in the manor might have seemed dependent on being Robin with how he was kinda just scooped up, but (if we're including Detective Comics in our characterization,) Bruce had offered to let him resign from Robin and just live with him (a little late, but still. It's worth noting Batman proper shows Jason afraid and uncomfortable at the thought of Dick taking Robin back, which lends more merit to the housing-dependent-on-Robin-misunderstanding interpretation, but canon is pick and choose anyways.) The lack of trust involved in his choice to search out his mom kinda reads like it was bred by more than that alone, and Bruce's prioritization of the law over the protection of the people it ignores is notably upsetting to him in the prior issues. tbh I really do believe the outcomes of those cases could have informed Jason's stance that Bruce's method of justice is ineffective right alongside his own murder and his experiences in Lost Days.

It would make sense for Bruce to not consider his own actions while he's thinking through things that would upset Jason, because from his point of view the things there that were bothering Jason were the criminals alone, not the way that the methods with which they were approaching their crimes continually led to the perpetrators evading actual justice. During the point in DitF where he's thinking through motivations for Jason's running away because something isn't adding up for HIM, the idea doesn't so much as cross his mind. It would also add another layer to Jason's sulkiness upon Bruce's arrival if he held the belief that Bruce is ignoring the consequences his brand of justice has on victims (and the way it's affecting him to helplessly watch it play out), starts to hope that Bruce actually can understand his thought processes/relate to him when he shows up, only to be told to his face that Bruce is prioritizing his style of justice over Jason again. With the way everything that led Jason to his bio-mom was comically circumstantial and the context of the previous issues, it's kind of the ONLY way Death in the Family makes sense to me. Tldr: I feel like the grief claimed as reasoning for Jason's actions leading up to his death is mainly speculation from Bruce and Alfred and the more textually-supported reason for his erratic behavior and lack of trust in Bruce is the lack of intervention in several sensitive cases that led them to worsen unobstructed and eventually permitted them to escalate into casualties in 2 out of 3 cases.

*Also, side note, but the idea that Jason got benched for the Filipe situation, while perfectly reasonable, is not quite spot on. The Filipe situation escalated into the fight in the junkyard where his dad is crushed by a car and Bruce is all "everything you do has consequences" which is kinda big words for a guy whose lack of action indirectly lead to a girls death earlier in the storyline, but true. Jason actally gets benched because he jumps directly into gunfire while fighting the third set of predators and Bruce starts to worry he's getting a little suicidal with it. He baits a guy into shooting at him on purpose again trying to protect mom prospect number 1 later on in DitF, so Bruce might have had a point with that one.

[athenasdaydreams]

okay i should be studying for my bio final but i couldnt stop thinking of jj maybank asking kook!reader's parents for permission to marry you (still on s2 of outerbanks idk what happened after that....)

jj, at 23 years old, thinks its so archaic to ask your parents for permission to marry you. hes been thinking about it for months now. he would much rather pick you up and go over to a courthouse and get it done with. not a flashy type of guy. but, growing up rich, you had mentioned so many times about a dream wedding and who was he to deny his girl's wishes. youd mentioned it so many times, even going as far as sending him your wedding pinterest board after being inspired by sarah and john b's shotgun wedding (or rather in an effort to make sure jj didn't expect you guys to have a shotgun wedding).

sarah cameron wanted to be as much of a pogue as possible, while you were reluctant to give up your kook lifestyle of dior lipgloss and chanel handbags. that was exactly why after taking up a second job at the wreck, a loan from the bank, a third job cleaning some kook's boat, and another loan from the guy at the fishing store (he didnt know it yet but jj was sure he'd pay him back), jj stood outside your family's mansion with a gold band tucked in his back pocket, and some pictures of some houses he was looking at, ready on his phone. he felt like he'd been standing out there for hours. 'now or never, maybank,' he mumbled as he wiped his hands on his old faded blue jeans which had been paired with pope's white button up, knocking on the door.

the woman who opened up the door looked exactly like you, just about 40 years older. 'evening mrs l/n, i'm jj maybank, your granddaughter's boyfriend.'

after giving him a scrutinising once over, she said 'she's not here,' and attempted to close the door. jj made sure to tell her that he wanted to talk to your parents about something important, and she somewhat reluctantly let him in.

your mother was sitting on the couch, reading the latest edition of vogue (something he could picture you doing a few years in the future) while your father had presumably just gotten back from work, enjoying some expensive looking drink while talking to his wife about his day.

'mr and mrs l/n?'

both of them whipped their heads around and looked towards jj.

'jonathan?'

he was regretting ever telling you his full name, more so regretting letting you introduce him to your parents like that, during that one horrible dinner that ended with you and your mom crying and your dad and jj almost killing each other. as time passed, they stopped hating him so much, but some resentment remained.

'uh, jj is fine. listen, i gotta talk to you guys about something'

'you didn't get her pregnant did you?!' your father stood up, trying to intimidate him. what for, he didn't know.

'NO no i didn't! i promise!!' he said as he stood in front of them, reaching into his back pocket. 'I came here to ask for your permission to marry your daughter.' your mom looked like she was about to have a stroke and your dad was about to protest.

'listen, before you guys say anything, i want you to know that your daughter was the best thing to ever happen to me. i love her more than anything in the world and i would sacrifice everything, including my own life for her. i know you guys think i don't have the means to support her or give her the life she deserves and i agree. i'll never be able to give her the life she truly deserves but that doesn't mean i'll try. i've taken up 2 more jobs to buy her this ring and save up for a house- its really nice by the way, i have some photos-and i would take up all the jobs in the world just to give her the life she wants. so please, please let me marry your daughter,' jj said in what felt like one breath.

your father was shocked and your emotional mother was on the verge of tears.

"jj?"

at the sound of your voice, jj turned around to be met with your confused face. "i didn't know we had plans today... and why're you dressed like that?"

he turned to your father, who gave him the slightest nod, signalling him to approach you.

"i had a whole thing planned to do this, with dinner and candles 'n shit, but i feel like if i dont do this now im going to explode."

"jj, what do you mean? you're scaring me." you looked at him with concern, the poor boy looked like he was about to pass out.

he got onto one knee and held out the ring he had bought for you.

"from the moment I first saw you, I knew you were something special. you were unlike anyone else I’ve ever met. And now, standing here in front of you…I’m pretty damn sure that i wouldn't wanna spend my life with anyone but you."

your vision started blurring from the tears in your eyes.

"will you marry me?"

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@zepskies

I've been waiting ALL week for this!

Dean has a problem. Looking into her eyes, soulful and brown, the slope of her nose and her full lips, parted with shock… 

It's not a problem Dean, (the gun is obviously BUT) she is beautiful and you will love her and I will cry at your wedding.

He nods, and his smile falls with a weary sigh. The hard part about that is he doesn’t feel much guilt about what he’s done. At the same time, he does, and the conflict churns in his stomach. He knew what kind of man Roman was. He was the kind of soldier that could’ve filled Colonel Sanderson’s shoes one day. A fellow soldier under Dean’s command...

Dean no. No feeling bad for saving your girl and for killing the "sack of shit in human clothes."

Also I didn't notice the Colonel Sanderson thing before and now all I can think about is KFC lol.😂 Which is not to take away from how good this fic is or how well it's written. It's just me lol.

Dean grimaces, but he stays quiet. He turns to the woman and holds a finger over his lips. She stares back at him in apprehension. He begins to creep slowly around the hill, but she grabs onto his wrist. For a second, she looks just as surprised as him by the reflexive action. Then, she shakes her head at him. Don’t go out there, her eyes say. Dean smiles, and he gives her a reassuring wink. He gently removes her hand and gestures at her to stay where she is. He army crawls up the side of the hill. It gives him a vantage point to watch his men, who approach just a few feet down below. 

Oh goodness she is already so protective of him and oh my word the wink had me melting lol.

I also don't think that I mentioned this before, but I really like how you wove in the other characters in the show. Seeing Benny and Cas show up just made me so happy.

Dean knows the position he’s put his own men in. He doesn’t blame them for following the Colonel’s orders. He just hopes they can forgive him for what he’s about to do. He leaps off the edge of the hill with a yell and brings Benny with him to the ground. He sweeps Cas’s legs out from underneath him, then tosses a punch that lands on the corner of Benny’s chin. He kicks Benny’s gun away, and wrestles Cas until his pistol falls from his hand. The three men scrap and trade blows, until Dean is the only one left standing. His men are groaning on the dusty ground, slowly picking themselves up.

Oh my word seeing that fight in my head, um... YES PLEASE.

And the loyalty?! The love for their friend?! The "Goodbye brother."? It's so good.

“Kim…mila,” he attempts. She guides Mato closer and grabs Dean by his cheeks with one hand. “Kimmí.” “Kimmí,” he repeats with his cheeks squished. His face is starting to warm up, and not altogether in embarrassment. “Mila,” she says with a nod. “Mila,” Dean says. “Kimmímila.”

She's squishing his face! That is so cute, oh my stars. Plus I am cackling at how long it took him to be able to say her name.

“But my mother had a dream before I was born,” Mila says. “She saw beautiful wings, and said I would have a free mind. When I grew, and wanted to spend my days with horses more than cooking and sewing things, she didn’t call me free. She called me stubborn.” Her face begins to fall. “Maybe too stubborn.”

I absolutely love this! I really love it when writers pick the names of their characters based on the meaning behind it. And the fact that you gave the meaning of her name a backstory of her mom having a dream and the butterfly meaning that Mila "would have a free mind" is just so perfect for her. Because she is stubborn and she does have "a free mind" by being rebellious and strong, by being a strong female character who does not conform to the whims of what other people deem to be appropriate for her. Also it was funny that Dean thought she was like a "lioness."

"Fair enough," he says, glancing over at her. “I think my dad thought the fighting would end with the war, but, uh...it never really ends, does it?”

This is a really wonderful line, that the war "never really ends." It really fits this story and honestly it really fits the entire early history of the United States when it was acquiring territory and embracing the "manifest destiny" ideals.

Dean enjoys listening to her stories. He likes what he learns about her, but also, he just likes the sound of her voice, smooth and steady, almost calming. He thinks she might like the sound of his too, the way she’s smiled at him, laughed with him, glanced at him when she thinks he’s not looking.

Okay, the whole part where she is explaining things about her life and her culture was so sweet. Them opening up with one another is just so soft and a little fluffy and I'm so glad that they got to have those gentle moments with one another. Not to mention this bit where Dean admits how much he likes listening to her, is just so good lol.

And I thought it was really on brand for him to be a little upset that she doesn't completely trust him yet, even though that he killed one of his men. But he's got to learn to be patient... and then propose. LOL.

At the very least, the way she looks at him now is softer than that first day.

I think my soul has left my body. This is so cute.

She nods back at him and pretends not to watch when he sits up with a groan, stretching and bending his arms high behind his head. He removed his uniform jacket to sleep. It allows her to see every dip of male muscle that his plain white shirt clings to, even in the long sleeves. Her gaze furtively runs over the broad shoulders, the tapered waist, then back up to his half-bearded face, defined by a strong jaw and dark brows. The sun catches on his brown hair and teases the ends of it golden. She would never admit it, but he’s not unpleasant to look at. 

Don't be afraid to admit it Mila, we all know how good he is to look at. And why shouldn't you look at your future husband? 💍

A breath gets trapped in her throat as she once again looks between his warm hand closed over her smaller one, and his face. In the small space between them, there is a different kind of tension than before. Mila can’t tell what the man is thinking when he looks at her like that, but she doesn’t like it.

Oh my sweet goodness, the TENSION!!

This is so good my friend and I am so excited for what the future of this series holds and am praying that it doesn't end in death!😬💗

The Honorable Choice - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC 

Summary: June 1872. Captain Dean Winchester of the U.S. Cavalry is tasked with one job: break a wild mustang. He just didn’t expect the woman who infiltrates his camp, intent on freeing her tribe’s horse.

AN: “Getting to know you, getting to know all about you…” ⬅️ If you’ve seen The King & I, then you’ll probably be singing that line in your head like I do.

Disclaimer: I’ve done extensive research for this one, both on the American Indian Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s (AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars and the Sioux Wars). Of course, one of my main goals is to avoid inaccuracies, both historical and cultural.

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: @jacklesversebingo Western AU

Song Inspo: The Spirit Soundtrack

Word Count: 3.1K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, protective Dean, historical tidbits, fluff

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🎙️ Listen to the podfic version here!

Part 2: Death & Sacrifice

Dean falls out of his saddle with a yell, landing hard in the grass. The impact knocks the air out of his chest and the hat off his head, not to mention the pain that rattles down his back.

“Son of a bitch,” he wheezes, while trying to get back up.

The woman jumps down from the mustang’s back and all but leaps on Dean. Straddling his waist and grabbing a fistful of his collar, she lets out a battle cry and raises a small knife at him. It’s probably no more than two inches long.

Dean may be on the ground with a smarting forehead, but he’s still got the upper hand. He grabs her knife-wielding arm and whips out his pistol from his belt. Her eyes widen, and she stills above him. The gun lies between them, aimed for her chest. They’re both breathing hard.

Dean has a problem.

Looking into her eyes, soulful and brown, the slope of her nose and her full lips, parted with shock… 

He just can’t do it.

His finger eases off the trigger of his gun, and he lowers it to the ground beside him.

“I told you,” he says. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Her head tilts as she stares at his gun, then at him. She relaxes somewhat, and she backs off of him, sliding from his lap down to the grass beside him. Her closed fist with the knife comes to rest at her side. She gives him a look of wary bewilderment.

“You are a strange man,” she says.

Dean has to laugh a little, smiling at her afterward.

“I guess so,” he replies.

Her brows furrow. “You killed one of your own…for me?”

He nods, and his smile falls with a weary sigh. The hard part about that is he doesn’t feel much guilt about what he’s done. At the same time, he does, and the conflict churns in his stomach. He knew what kind of man Roman was. He was the kind of soldier that could’ve filled Colonel Sanderson’s shoes one day. A fellow soldier under Dean’s command...

And a sack of shit in human clothes.

Dean leans back on his hands in the grass and slides his legs out long. His stare falls to the earth between his boots. The ground is soft underneath him. Maybe it rained this morning. 

“Yeah, that’s gonna make it tough when I go back,” he says. “At best, that’s a court martial. At worst…”

The Lakota woman frowns, her dark brows nearly meeting in the middle as she considers him. He wonders what she sees when she looks at him.

“Tell you what,” Dean said. “Give yourself and your horse a rest tonight. I’ll go back and tell them I lost you in the canyon.”

Her eyes widen further in surprise. He can’t blame her for it. He’s surprising himself every time he opens his mouth.

“Will they kill you?” she asks.

Dean shrugs. “Nah, I’ll be fine.”

She levels him with a firmer look, one that demands the truth.

His nonchalance wanes, and he sighs.

“They might,” he says.

She shakes her head. She seems to deliberate over something, but eventually she comes to a decision. Just when she opens her mouth to speak, a gunshot rings out and hits the ground not far from their feet. A warning.

The sound of hooves thundering on the earth reach them before they look up. Two horses gallop towards them in the distance, their riders wearing blue uniforms.

They both tense up, but Dean is the first one to move. He grabs her arm and helps her stand along with him. They scramble back and lead the horses by their reins further into the trees. They find a denser patch and a raised hill to crouch down and hide behind.

The mustang is too tired to go very far, but Baby is already making anxious sounds, protective of her rider.

“Shhh,” Dean whispers, and runs a soothing hand over her side. He leads her to lay down with her legs tucked underneath her.

The Lakota manages to do the same with the mustang after whispering to him softly in her language. There’s a trust between them, Dean realizes. They have a connection that seems to mirror his own with his horse. He doesn’t know how he didn’t see it before.

“Captain!” Benny calls out.

Dean grimaces, but he stays quiet. He turns to the woman and holds a finger over his lips. She stares back at him in apprehension. He begins to creep slowly around the hill, but she grabs onto his wrist. For a second, she looks just as surprised as him by the reflexive action. Then, she shakes her head at him.

Don’t go out there, her eyes say.

Dean smiles, and he gives her a reassuring wink. He gently removes her hand and gestures at her to stay where she is. He army crawls up the side of the hill. It gives him a vantage point to watch his men, who approach just a few feet down below. 

“Captain Winchester!” Cas calls next.

“We don’t want to have to come and get you, Dean. Come on,” Benny says. He does sound reluctant, for his part. His voice grows more somber when he says, “Colonel’s given us orders to bring you and the girl back…dead or alive.”

Dean knows the position he’s put his own men in. He doesn’t blame them for following the Colonel’s orders. He just hopes they can forgive him for what he’s about to do.

He leaps off the edge of the hill with a yell and brings Benny with him to the ground. He sweeps Cas’s legs out from underneath him, then tosses a punch that lands on the corner of Benny’s chin. He kicks Benny’s gun away, and wrestles Cas until his pistol falls from his hand. The three men scrap and trade blows, until Dean is the only one left standing. His men are groaning on the dusty ground, slowly picking themselves up.

Dean’s heaving for breath as well as he leans back against the side of the hill. Despite that momentary victory, he knows what they all know: that this fight isn’t going to end until either they’re dead, or he’s dead.

“Where’s the girl, Dean?” Benny says. He implores him to see sense. “We take her back with us, we can smooth all this over with the Colonel. All of it, even Roman.” 

Dean lets out a deep breath, but he shakes his head.

“Can’t do that, Benny,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

There’s a question circling in his friend’s eyes, but after a beat, Benny seems to know the answer to it. He picks up his gun from the ground. Just like Dean once did, the Lieutenant now has a choice to make.

He shares a heavy look with Cas. The two of them nod, before they focus back on Dean.

Benny’s hand falls, and he stows his gun.

“You died today,” Benny says. “We found your body somewhere in the canyon. Your horse too.”

Dean nods, with something of a smile. He supposes faking his death is the only option now. He rips the badge off his uniform jacket and tosses it to Benny.

“There’s your proof,” he says.

Dean shares a grim nod of respect with Cas while Benny examines the torn patch denoting a captain’s rank.

“Take care of each other,” Dean says.

Benny’s head raises, and he meets Dean with a somber gaze.

“Goodbye, brother.”

Dean doesn’t return to her until the men are out of sight through the trees. She’s still hiding along with the resting horses, waiting for him. That alone surprises him. It would bring a small smile to his face, if the weight of that goodbye didn’t feel so heavy on his shoulders.

He reaches out a hand for her. It takes her a moment to consider it, but she accepts his offer.

He helps her to her feet, after which, she quickly pulls her hand back. She’s wary of his touch, her face guarded when she looks up at him. Dean supposes he can’t blame her, even if it does strike a nerve. After what he just did for her…

His face becomes stoic, and he turns away to grab his hat from the dusty ground. “We should probably head out.”

She nods and calls to her horse to encourage him to his feet. Despite himself, Dean can't help but be curious. How did this girl manage to tame that wild beast?

“Does he have a name?” he asks.

“Mato,” she replies.

“Mato,” Dean echoes. “Does that mean something? You know, in your language.”

She eyes him wryly, brushing her hand over Mato’s hide.

“It means angry, like a bear,” she says.

Dean snorts. “Yeah, good name.”

He remembers his bruised side (and ego) from when the mustang threw him off his back.

Dean watches her with another realization as she gracefully mounts the horse. Baby has gotten up to her feet as well, already nudging the back of his arm with her snout. He rubs her nose in affection.

Then he turns to climb up onto her back, settling his feet into the stirrups and loosely grabbing the reins. He follows his companion’s lead farther into the forest, but he guides his horse to fall into step beside hers.

“Will you tell me your name now?” he asks. “Think we’ve been through enough together at this point, don’t you think?”

She considers it with a tilt of her head. She looks over at him with a small smile.

“Kimmímila,” she says. The syllables roll off her tongue effortlessly.

Dean raises his brows. “Kim…Kimmeela.”

She shakes her head at him, her lips pursing.

“Kimmímila.”

Lord help him, but he tries his best. His brows furrow.

“Kim…mila,” he attempts. She guides Mato closer and grabs Dean by his cheeks with one hand.

“Kimmí.”

“Kimmí,” he repeats with his cheeks squished. His face is starting to warm up, and not altogether in embarrassment.

“Mila,” she says with a nod.

“Mila,” Dean says. “Kimmímila.”

He’s treated to her smile, warm and true. She releases him, her gaze flitting over his face. Then she keeps riding. Dean grins to himself.

“Think I’m gonna call you Mila,” he says. Make it easier on myself.

She even laughs, a honeyed sound. “Yes, my father does too.”

“What does it mean? Your name.”

“In your language?” she says, in a tone that teases him back. She becomes thoughtful as she searches for the word. “It means…butterfly.”

“Really?” Dean remarks. She doesn’t strike him as a butterfly.

More like a lioness, he thinks, only somewhat holding back his grin.

She gives him some side-eye, despite her amusement.

“You think it does not suit me,” she observes.

“Well, I didn't say that—”

“I don’t think so either,” she admits. “There are many things that don’t suit me.”

Dean chuckles. He can imagine that.

“But my mother had a dream before I was born,” Mila says. “She saw beautiful wings, and said I would have a free mind. When I grew, and wanted to spend my days with horses more than cooking and sewing things, she didn’t call me free. She called me stubborn.” Her face begins to fall. “Maybe too stubborn.”

Dean offers her a rueful, sympathetic look. “Yeah, I get it. My brother always said I was damn hardheaded,” he says. “…Maybe we’ve got more in common than we thought, huh?”

Mila’s smile returns, however slightly.

“You have a brother?” she asks.

“Oh, yeah. He’s a lawyer, so he’s more needed back home,” Dean replies.

Damn. He really does miss his bookish little brother.

He explains to her about his family, his brother and mother who still live in Lawrence, and how he joined the army, in part to honor his father.

“What happened to him?” she asks.

“He died…in some cornfield near Sharpsburg, Maryland, fighting the Confederacy,” he replies, heaving a breath.

"Con...federacy?" she questions.

"The South," Dean explains. "See, most of our southern states thought they should be their own country, letting slaves plow their fields and mind their kids. I may have lived on a farm, but my father always paid his workers. He fought for the Union."

"So you fought among yourselves, over land that did not belong to you," Mila points out.

Dean falls silent. After a little while, he concedes her point with an incline of his head.

"Fair enough," he says, glancing over at her. “I think my dad thought the fighting would end with the war, but, uh...it never really ends, does it?”

Her expression of curiosity fades, turning more solemn.

“No,” she agrees. “…I am sorry for your father.”

Dean's a little surprised to hear that from her, but he nods his thanks. They continue to talk as the sun begins to set in the west. When it dips behind the canyon, they stop to make camp for the night, and he helps her catch a rabbit to roast on the fire they build together.

That night over the meal, she slowly opens up to him. He learns that she’s an only child, though she has a sibling-like bond with her older cousin, Šóta. She spends most of her days planting or harvesting their crops, depending on the season, as well as sewing, painting, helping the elders of her tribe with tasks, and helping her mother and aunt cook.

When the rabbit is gone, she unbinds her long, thick hair and untangles it while she speaks. She explains that the Lakota are just one of many tribes. There are six other bands of Sioux who live in this region. Along with the Dakota and the Nakota, they are the “Seven Council Fires” who have made the Great Plains their home for generations.

She tells him about the way her tribe lives, caring for one another, giving the land back as much as they take, and letting it rest. The men hunt and protect the village from the outside, but the women protect the inside, their way of life.

Most of all, Mila tells him, she loves caring for the horses. She goes out and rides whenever she can duck out of her mother’s watchful eye.

Dean enjoys listening to her stories. He likes what he learns about her, but also, he just likes the sound of her voice, smooth and steady, almost calming. He thinks she might like the sound of his too, the way she’s smiled at him, laughed with him, glanced at him when she thinks he’s not looking.

She still picks a spot as far away from him as she can to sleep though. She keeps the fire pit in between them. He even catches sight of her knife, hidden in the hand she tucks underneath her cheek. Evidently, she doesn’t fully trust him just yet.

It annoys him at first, considering how many times he’s saved her already. How much he’s sacrificed just to get them this far…

Until he remembers how they met. He remembers the disdain and anger in her brown eyes, then the mistrust, and the fear hidden underneath. He thinks of every experience she’s likely had so far with the U.S. Military, and anyone else who looks like him.

Dean settles down on the ground and stares up at the innumerable stars in a raven sky. He’s exhausted, but his thoughts don’t let him rest for a while. 

At the very least, the way she looks at him now is softer than that first day.

In the morning, Mila watches the strange man wake.

He blinks and rubs his bleary eyes, yawning, groaning at the sun’s brightness like a child. She hides her smile by bowing her head over the apple she’s cutting with her knife. The orchards span wide across the forest, and soon he’ll find two yellow-red apples beside his head.

His brows raise at them, then he looks up at Mila sitting with her legs crossed behind the small fire pit. The wood there is just ash and blackened remains now, but it still carries the smell of burning.

“Morning,” he greets.

She nods back at him and pretends not to watch when he sits up with a groan, stretching and bending his arms high behind his head. He removed his uniform jacket to sleep. It allows her to see every dip of male muscle that his plain white shirt clings to, even in the long sleeves.

Her gaze furtively runs over the broad shoulders, the tapered waist, then back up to his half-bearded face, defined by a strong jaw and dark brows. The sun catches on his brown hair and teases the ends of it golden.

She would never admit it, but he’s not unpleasant to look at. 

Last night, she declined his offer to travel with her until she reaches her tribe safely, but he was insistent. Again, strange.

So here she is, with him. Here they are. 

Dean turns to see the horses grazing nearby. Mato no longer has the saddle and bridle his men put on him. He looks rested and at ease. He even whinnies at Baby, tossing his head a little. She answers him and flicks her tail. They continue eating together.

Dean smiles, then grabs an apple. He raises it to her in thanks before he takes a large bite. Its juices run down the corner of his mouth, and he wipes at it with the back of his hand. Mila can’t help but be drawn to the sight.

She tears her eyes away when he looks over at her.

“We have a long way to go. Three days, if the weather is good,” she says, continuing to carve pieces of her apple to eat. “We will know we are close when we reach the river.”

Dean nods in understanding. With a grunt, he gets to his feet and takes another bite out of his breakfast. She doesn’t expect the way he approaches her with a hand outstretched. She looks up at it, then at his expectant face.

“Come on. Let’s hit the road then,” he says.

Mila considers his offer for another moment. He seems to be making this a habit. Amused, she wonders if this is just kindness, or if the women of his people aren’t allowed to stand without a man’s help.

She pockets her knife, swipes her braided hair over her shoulder, and slips her hand into his, allowing him to help her to her feet. When she gets there, he’s closer than he should be.

A breath gets trapped in her throat as she once again looks between his warm hand closed over her smaller one, and his face. In the small space between them, there is a different kind of tension than before. Mila can’t tell what the man is thinking when he looks at her like that, but she doesn’t like it.

And at the same time, she does.

She takes back her hand, and she goes to the horses. She firmly ignores how her heart gallops, even as she rubs at her chest like it’s an ache that can be soothed.

She doesn’t hear Dean’s unsteady breath, nor does she see the way his green eyes follow her.

AN: *rubs hands together* Well, here they are! It's all starting to come together. What did you think of Dean's decision?

Coming up next, we have the final part: some action, some fluff, and some potentially perilous situations for Mila and Dean...

Next Time:

“Yeah, about that…I’m thinking your tribe doesn’t take very well to outsiders,” he says. “White men in particular.”

Mila presses her lips together. He can tell she’s been thinking the same thing, but she turns to him with a determined set to her features.

“I will protect you,” she says.

Dean frowns. He doesn’t like the sound of that. On one hand, it warms him that she seems to really mean it. On the other hand, he doesn’t want to know what it’ll take for her to protect him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.

She turns her face away and doesn’t seem to want to answer at first.

“Mila…”

“The Chief is my uncle,” she says at last. “He will listen to me.”

Dean blinks. Well, that changes things…maybe.

COMING 11/17! (New chapters every Sunday.)

Or read Part 3 on Patreon now!

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Series Tag List + Dean W. (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms

@foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @roseblue373 @this-is-me19

@emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @kaleldobrev @spnwoman

@thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @pieandmonsters @globetrotter28

@adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka

@chevroletdean @agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24

@ladysparkles78 @solariklees @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley

@sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow @mimaria420

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse @twinkleinadiamondsky @ajjustice

@ades106 @my-stories-vault @cevansbaby-dove @kayleighwinchester @rizlowwritessortof

@tmb510 @skyesthebomb @syrma-sensei @harleycao @king-of-milf-lovers

@pizzagirlxnsfwx @justsom3onesworld @beskarfilms @lunaticgurly @artemys-ackles

@malindacath @mrsjenniferwinchester @jc-winchester @charmed-asylum @fromcaintodean

@violetlilysunshine @traiitorjoe @tsofo26 @k-slla @jackles010378

@deanbrainrotwritings @urfav-tz @alwaystiredandconfused @torchbearerkyle @mrlonelycat

[adhdo5]

Also transmasc JGY vision: he is of course lethally stealth. And I mean literally lethally. I'm talking absolute all consuming prey animal terror at another human being knowing. I'm talking unprecedented strap game. I'm talking XY doesn't even know and he's who JGY sends to acquire materials for aforementioned. I'm talking guy who refuses medical care. I'm talking even if top surgery is a concept he couldn't get it because he'd have to kill the surgeon and that would be suspicious. I'm talking "a-Yao are you sure we should be doing this when you have a suspicious chest injury" and even that took even more years than it did wrt a cis reading because the first time he realized there was any romantic overture between himself and LXC JGY, consumed with immediate HE KNOWS terror, shut it down homophobically and excused himself to start planning LXC's death and/or his own fleeing of the country

[wastinawaaay]

am i the only one who doesn't like artemis and jason together romantically

[vonkarma2]

ultimately my enjoyment is hampered because it is low key sexist bc it takes place in an alternate universe where Sigmund Freud is real. though I did still like it for the most part but I hate Sigmund Freudddd Utena better

[killerchickadee]

I do remember that, yeah.

I also remember the text above from 5 days ago when my grandmother died and you didn't say a single fucking thing about it. And then went on Facebook and posted pictures of you and your stupid wife putting up your christmakkah tree.

Jesus fucking christ are you serious right now?

[mey-rin-is-fabulous]

Got home late so I wasn't able to write and before my dad and brother left I was hiding in the kitchen with my brother while my dad and my mom's boyfriend bad mouthed me and my mom. The usual oh we're messy people yadda yadda my mom eats too much sugar my moms depressed and doesn't handle death well. The one cat hasn't made a single mess since he started doing the litter boxes(then explain the dried cat crap next to the dryer idiot)

If you don't like me preferring to talk to my mom instead of you maybe you shouldn't be bad mouthing me or her so much and here's a thought maybe you shouldn't be telling my dad to his face that you would "end up killing both of them" in response to my dad talking about my mom getting depressed when people die and not dealing with it anymore or whatever it was.

I already know you don't take mental health seriously unless it's your quote unquote daughter who you are so insistent on her not being yours despite the fact that you rush over to her place at the drop of a hat over the daughter who is actually known to be yours.

[kittlyns]

I'm unfortunately learning a lot about a popular Christian author's books and some of the plots she comes up with are batshit insaneeeee

[robobee]

once again tormented by how Declan lived in a horror movie his entire life. you're two years old. your parents decide to kill this random new brother they pulled out of nowhere one day with no pregnancy. you display basic human decency to the baby (you are hardly 3 years old) and then your parents agree not to kill it. one day within 6 months of that you wake up and your mom has been replaced by a woman that looks *exactly* like her but Is Not Her and you can't verbalize how you feel about this (you are four) but you Dislike It, and your real mom never comes back so maybe you start to forget why you feel so uncomfortable with cloth mom in the first place. you have no access to any other people except this thing posing as your mom, the random baby that you are told can and will bring stuff out of his dreams, and your dad who is NEVER HOME. and then you are five years old, and every night you stay up to watch your little brother lest he bring back anything like, God Forbid, a human being.

He brings back a baby. He tells you it's supposed to be a better brother, because you suck, because you don't sleep and you live in a house with two fake people and a father who slowly seems to be forgetting who you are. You are six.

You are eight. Your dad starts taking you with him. You get thrown into car trunks and listen to him get beat the shit out of. You realise everyone wants your family dead, at best. Your father seems to have entirely forgotten he was ever your father, and seems only interested in the brother who dislikes you because you don't coddle him like everyone else does. Your father ignores the new dreamt thing, so you and your strange mother take care of it. You are nine.

[mandoriana]

What if...Ygraine Returns as a Ghost to Care for Her Son

Servant: Sir, I came to inform you that the knights you sent to battle are all dead.

Uther (sitting on the throne, distracted): Well, send their belongings to their families and tell them they were heroes. And bring more cookies, I'm hungry.

Arthur (six years old, watching the scene with distracted eyes next to a very angry ten-year-old Morgana): Good people die young, so when I grow up, I want to be bad like mom. 😌

Morgana: What are you talking about, Arthur! Your mother was a kind and good woman! Where did you get the idea that she was bad!?

Arthur: Yesterday I heard mom say that her dream was for a manure cart to run over dad so he would die once and for all. 🙂

Morgana (eyes wide in complete shock): Your mother would never say such a thing, Arthur… 🫢

Ygraine (next to Uther, trying to strangle him but unable to because she is a ghost): Don't listen to her, baby, mom hates dad and doesn't support anything he's doing! I still can't believe I married this man, listen to what mom says, Arthur, don't follow in his footsteps!

Arthur (turns to Morgana): Mom just said she hates dad, she's also trying to strangle him, but her hands keep going through his body, I think she's a ghost. 🫠 *slowly losing sanity*

Morgana (realizing that the young prince might be crazy): Arthur, maybe she's just joking…

Ygraine (trying to make Uther trip by stepping on his own cape): I'M NOT JOKING! If I could, I would kill him myself! I just can't because I can't touch him!

Arthur: I don't know if the gods would like so much violence…

Ygraine: The gods don't like your father!

Arthur: Okay… 🙂 *takes a cookie from the tray the servant brought*

[wonderjanga]

Marvel and Being a Pseudo-Father

So, I know some of you probably saw the father thing and were like- Woah, another Billy and Connor thingy? Nah. Two words: Wonder Girl.

Anyways, the specific Wonder Girl I’m talking about is Cassandra Sandsmark. If you’ve watched Young Justice, you’d know she’s there. Also, in this alternate universe, the JL doesn’t know Billy is like 12 years old.

It starts off Marvel, I don’t know, eating or something. Then, Cassandra walks in the room, and all of a sudden in the divine twitch chat, he just hears Zeus talk about “oh my daughter!” So Billy pauses mid bite of cereal and just stares at her for a bit. He’s sort of confused because he thought Diana was the only daughter of Zeus as far as he knew. Let alone the only daughter of Zeus associated with the Justice League.

Meanwhile, Cassandra is like, “is that the dude is supposed to be watching over us?” She walks over to him and introduces herself:

Cassie: “Hey, I’m Wonder Girl. You’re the dude who fills in for Black Canary when she’s not here, right?”

Marvel: *Finally finishes his bite of cereal.* “Huh, oh, yeah. I’m Captain Marvel. You can just call me Cap, or Marvel, or any other variation you can think of.”

Cassie: “Wait really? Wonder Woman told me about you. She said you were her sort-of older brother.”

Marvel: *Almost regurgitates his cereal* “She said that?” *Pauses to actually think about it* “I mean I guess we are, huh? He’s one of the gods that sponsors me. He also kinda had a hand in making me.”

Cassie: “He had a hand in making me too!”

They hang out a whole lot more times after that and soon they develop a big brother/little sister relationship. And then one day, while they’re, let’s say training or something.

Marvel: “Hey, I was wondering if you want to help me kill a bunch demons.”

Cassie: “That sounds… amazing. Let’s do it.”

Cue the two going to some place in the Himalayas where demons keep crossing over. They then brutally massacre them all. Marvel even offers Cassie his cape to wipe the blood off her face, much to the outrage of a few of the gods in his head. They then go get ice cream from a random little stall in China, where Billy spends around 15 minutes trying to see if he could use magic to convert his few measly dollars into yuan. They eventually do and they end up sitting on a bench, ignoring the many people taking pictures.

Cassie: *Eating her ice cream* “Hey… uh- I wanted to thank you for doing this.”

Marvel: *Pauses eating his own ice cream* “Huh? What do you mean? Getting you ice cream?”

Cassie: “Nah. For- uh, I don’t know? Doing stuff with me?” *exudes awkwardness* “God, this is- So like, I never really get to spend a whole lot of time with my mom cause she used to like, leave me on my own a lot because of business trips. She was an archeologist. So she used to fly around the world and stuff. So you doing stuff like this, taking me to fight demons, taking me to fight monsters, taking me to fight ghosts, it really means a lot to me? I think?”

Marvel: *Looks super surprised by her words* (not even by the whole thing. Just one sentence) “Your mom was an archeologist? Dude, my parents were too.”

Cassie: “Wait really?”

The two then go on the completely forget everything Cassie just said as the topic about archeologist parents soon spiraled into multiple different conversations.

[thewitchblue]

Bruce isn't actually a playboy to the dismay of others. His wife is a shapeshifter and simply changes skins to keep up the reputation. Whenever someone comes to the door or she goes to a gala to support Bruce, she changes into a new person, unable to keep her hands off him as he gives whoever he's speaking to a smirk.

He wanted to flaunt her around, but he needed to keep Batman as far away from Bruce Wayne as he possibly could. This was the only way they could kill the rumours before they began. Nobody would suspect a playboy to be a fighter period, let alone be Batman.

It was actually her idea to use the playboy act to keep Batman's identity away from Bruce Wayne. They would never suspect Bruce Wayne. The closest the public has gotten to solve the masked vigilante was saying they are friends because of how linked Bruce is to the police. Even then, the rumour was killed quickly.

That didn't make keeping her a family secret easy, however. The boys nearly told the public multiple times because of how excited they were to have a mom like Batmom. If Bruce didn't intervene, Batmom would have been exposed, and it would have been all over the news. They are keeping her secret until they absolutely have to reveal her.

That all changed when the Justice League arrived at Wayne Manor after the heroes found out about his contingency plans. It was a trust exercise. One Bruce wasn't happy about, but he considered it necessary.

Nobody knew about her or her shapeshifting (which was the coolest thing ever to the kids) except their family. Batmom was kept a guarded secret and loved deeply by both of the kids she helped adopt so far.

The boys quickly learned to keep her a secret after a couple of close calls in interviews. Not even their friends knew of her. She always wore a different skin when they were around and acted all embarrassed about being caught as another fling.

Batmom waved to them as Bruce was giving them a tour. She was relaxing in the kitchen with Alfred. They were having a pleasant conversation that Batmom considered more engaging than the heroes. She assumed they would simply look the other way and dismiss her as another woman Bruce Wayne managed to reel in. After all, this is her regular skin. A skin she rarely wore outside the Manor.

"Woah, who is this?"

Barry asked Bruce with a flirtatious smile. Bruce glared at the speedster as he made his way to his wife's side.

"My wife."

He replied with a voice that promised violence if the heroes attempted to flirt with her. He pulled out a necklace that held his wedding ring on it and held her hand. She was his, as much as he was hers, and he'll be dammed if someone stole the best thing to ever happen to his family.

"You have a wife?!"

Oliver questioned loudly. Bruce quirked a confused eyebrow at Oliver. His friend seemed stunned. The playboy Bruce Wayne has a wife, and nobody knows about her?

"I see you with a new woman constantly. When did...this happen?"

With a timid smile, his wife waved her hand while shape-shifting into an entirely different woman. She changed her entire appearance. Hair, clothes, eyes, even her face and body type were different.

"This happened ten years ago, Oliver."

The heroes had never been more surprised. The cold, bad Bat had such deep love for his family that he couldn't even keep the adoration off his face when he looked at her.

Just as they began to digest the fact Batman is married, an excited seven-year old child came sliding in with an older kid grinning behind him. They seemed to be in a game of tag before the older one launched the younger into Batmom's arms with a massive grin on his face.

The woman giggled as she caught him, twirling in a circle while tossing him in the air until he, too, fell into a fit of giggles. She held him like Simba from the Lion King for a moment to show him off before holding him normally. She peppered kisses all over his face with a smile until he began squirming in her arms.

She grinned at her boys. They were her everything. She adopted them quickly after she married Bruce. The boys were excited to have a full family, so they agreed immediately to the adoption. They were her boys from day one.

She decided to show little Jason mercy, apparently as she stopped her affection attack. However, she kept him in her arms, not wanting to let him go just yet. She turned back to the heroes in normal clothes with a beautiful smile.

"Oh, baby birds, say hello to Bruce's colleagues."

Suddenly, both young boys were attempting to hide with shy smiles. Even the extroverted Dick was timid at first. Neither of them were used to the type of attention they got whenever they went out with Bruce. Not even Dick, who was a performer.

The elder of the two wrapped his little arms around her waist, which caused her to ruffle his hair affectionately. Suddenly, the heroes all understood why Bruce fell hopelessly in love with the mother in front of them.

"Wait, wait, wait, you kept a shapeshifter from us?!"

Barry asked. His brain seemed to finally compute the facts in front of him. He blinked rapidly at the happy family. Never in a million years would he ever think the Batman could be a family man with a wife and children. Batmom casually said,

"I'm afraid that's my own decision, Barry. We all agreed it would be for the best that I was a secret. We tried to keep the boys a secret, too, but they both seemed to have... other plans." She, quite honestly, never even considered fighting. Sure, she could, but her life was with her boys and Bruce.

A playful smirk played on her lips as she looked at her children as they sheepishly smiled back.

Jason squirmed in his mother's arms and hid his face in her shoulder. He was still getting used to the unconditional love everyone in the family gave him.

With a gentle kiss on the top of Jason's head, she finally sets him down only for Bruce to pick him up again and place him on his shoulders. Tiny Jason squawked in protest. Dick snickered at his mother's side, still partially hiding behind her.

She smirked and playfully bumped him with her hip. Her family is her life, and she plans to keep them as close to her as possible. The League watched Batman and their Batmom play together with grins. They loved Batmom already.

[befooremoonrisee]

to me one of grrm's biggest screw-ups is not letting gaemon and jaehaera grow into adulthood, because the dynamics those two could have with aegon lend themselves to so much.

you're aegon iii and you're forced to marry the daughter of the man who killed your mother and your brothers. her only friend is her dragon and you hate dragons because one killed your mother in front of you and two others killed your brothers. she hates you and would kill you if that didn't mean her own demise. your best friend is also a son of aegon ii, but he hates him too, as he is responsible for the death of his mothers, he was a pretender, he is a nice kid who wants to help people just like you. he's the only one that understands you.

you're jaehaera, your father won the war, but you're forced to become the wife of the son of the man who killed your twin, the woman who put a bounty on your other brother's head and who drove your mother to suicide. your grandmother, the only family you have left, is crazy with grief, she wants you to kill aegon. you're just a child. your dragon is a wretched delicate thing, just like you, your husband hates it. he is afraid of it, it makes you happy. your only brother (if he is your brother) doesn't like you, he spends all his time with aegon, you try to bond with him, but he is not jaehaerys. he will never be.

you're gaemon, son of a whore, bastard of a king. you were the hope of the smallfolk, a path for liberation, but the royals came and they killed your moms. now you're their pet, their tool to avoid being poisoned. you love aegon, he shares the same wounds as you, but you resent him, he is using your body, your life, that's what you smallfolk are for the royals, just pawns in their little games. maybe you're tired of it. then viserys comes back and you're discarded, not longer a friend, but just a tool. jaehaera claims she's your sister, but she isn't, aegon is nothing to you, she creeps you out, she understands what being a hostage is.