#she was fighting for her daughter’s happiness

[tender-rosiey]

WE’VE SEEN SUKUNA WITH A SHY DAUGHTER, BUT WHAT ABOUT..SUKUNA WITH AN EXTROVERTED ENERGETIC HUMOROUS DAUGHTER⁉️⁉️

mischief reign — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: I HEAR YOU ANON

sukuna, the king of curses, master of terror and destruction, sits cross-legged on his throne with a look of pure exasperation carved into his features.

his crimson eyes follow the whirlwind of energy that is your daughter as she darts across the room.

“stop running, d/n,” sukuna orders, his voice heavy with authority. “you’ll trip over your own feet and break your neck. then what will you do?”

d/n skids to a halt in the middle of the hall, her little arms spread wide for balance.

her grin is as wide as her father’s, though hers is filled with boundless mischief rather than malice.

“then you’ll fix me!” she chirps without a second of hesitation, twirling on one foot.

sukuna pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath. “you’re too much like your mother.”

“is that supposed to be an insult?” you call out, stepping into the room with a knowing smile.

sukuna’s gaze flicks to you, and though his expression doesn’t soften, you can tell he’s relieved by your presence.

“it’s a warning,” he retorts. “one is enough. two of you? that’s a curse even I don’t deserve.”

d/n bounds over to you, her tiny hands clutching at your robes as she peers up at you with wide, excited eyes.

“mama, did you see me? I ran so fast! like this—zoom!” she dashes in a quick circle around you, nearly tripping over her own feet in the process.

“I saw,” you reply with a laugh, steadying her before she topples over. “but your father’s right. you’ll hurt yourself if you’re not careful.”

she pouts up at you, her brows furrowing in an uncanny imitation of sukuna. “papa’s always telling me to stop. he’s so grumpy!”

“because you don’t listen,” sukuna snaps, his tone sharp but not unkind.

“because you’re always grumpy!” d/n shoots back, sticking her tongue out at him.

the audacity of her response earns a low growl from sukuna. “insolent brat,” he mutters.

you stifle a laugh, knowing better than to let sukuna see you encouraging her sass. d/n, on the other hand, has no such reservations.

she scrambles up the steps to his throne, plopping herself down beside him with all the confidence of someone who knows they’re untouchable.

“why don’t you smile more, papa?” she asks, leaning her chin on her tiny hands as she gazes up at him.

sukuna stares at her like she’s just suggested he grow a third ear. “I don’t smile because I have to deal with you,” he replies flatly.

“you’re so mean!” d/n huffs, crossing her arms. “mama, tell him he’s mean!”

you step closer, your hands resting on your hips as you give sukuna an amused look. “you are so mean, sukuna.”

“I will show you mean later,” sukuna counters, eyes focused on you before they narrow as he turns to look at your daughter. “the world isn’t soft and kind. you might as well learn that now, you brat.”

d/n puffs out her cheeks in defiance. “but the world isn’t just mean either! there’s fun and happy things too! like flowers, and festivals, and—” she pauses, a sly grin creeping onto her face. “—frowny grumpy old men like you!”

sukuna’s eye twitches, his patience visibly wearing thin. “old?” he echoes, his tone dangerously low. “do you have a death wish, child?”

“maybe!” d/n chirps, completely unfazed.

the sheer audacity of her response leaves sukuna momentarily speechless, and you have to turn away to hide your laughter.

“d/n,” you say gently, crouching down to her level. “why don’t we give your father a break? he’s had a long day.”

“but he doesn’t do anything!” she protests, pointing an accusing finger at sukuna.

the cursed king leans forward, his crimson gaze locking onto hers with a dangerous gleam. “do you want to find out what I can do, little girl?”

“sure!” d/n replies brightly, hopping off the throne and striking a playful fighting stance. “let’s see what you’ve got, old man!”

sukuna’s lips curl into a predatory grin, and for a moment, you think he might actually take her up on the challenge.

but then he leans back with a huff, crossing all four of his arms.

“you’re not worth the effort,” he declares.

d/n pouts, clearly disappointed. “you’re no fun,” she grumbles, flopping onto the floor dramatically.

“and you’re exhausting,” sukuna fires back.

you step between them, shaking your head with a fond smile. “

“alright, that’s enough. d/n, why don’t you help me in the garden?”

“but I don’t wanna leave papa!” d/n whines, clinging to one of sukuna’s lower arms. “he’s fun to tease!”

sukuna pries her off with minimal effort, holding her at arm’s length like a particularly annoying kitten.

“I don’t need your help to be teased,” he growls. “I’ve got your mother for that.”

you chuckle, reaching out to take d/n from him. “come on, troublemaker. let’s go pick some flowers for your father. maybe that’ll cheer him up.”

“good luck,” d/n mutters, allowing herself to be led away. “papa doesn’t like anything.”

“except for you,” you murmur under your breath, glancing back at sukuna.

his eyes meet yours, and though his expression remains unreadable, there’s a flicker of something softer in his gaze.

as you and d/n move toward the door, sukuna’s voice follows you, low and gruff. "you're both in the same lump to me," he says.

your eyes widen slightly at the admission. your raise your head to look at him, suddenly right in front of you. you’re about to respond.

but without waiting for a reply, sukuna lightly bumps his shoulder against yours as he passes, the motion almost casual but undeniably intentional.

his gaze never wavers from the throne, but you catch the small, reluctant smirk that tugs at the corner of his lips.

"don't forget that.”

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[destinedfordiapers]

Can’t Fight This Feeling

Despite your best efforts, a tiny smile crept across your face—even as your older sister lifted the back of your dress, exposing your messy diaper to the room.

“Ut oh, I think our little diaper girl made a poopoo! Yes, she did!”

And you’ve never been happier.

For as long as you can remember, you’ve been drawn to the thick, crinkly, and delightfully comforting padding of diapers. You couldn’t help it. You couldn’t explain it.

Life was just better in a soggy diaper.

Yet, you always hid your shameful lust for diapers. Forced to fill your diapers in utter privacy.

Not anymore.

There is no going back.

Now everyone—your family, friends, and coworkers—knows you’re just a diaper girl. Every time they see you, they expect a thick, poofy, and most likely wet diaper between your legs.

Nothing makes you happier than seeing their eyes drift down, searching for your diaper bulge. Or those pitiful looks only reserved for a poor 25-year-old girl trapped in diapers.

For all they know, you can’t help it. You need your diapers.

You know the truth.

All those embarrassing accidents were part of your plan. To lock yourself into diapers.

To expose yourself as a diaper girl.

Sure, it was embarrassing to mess your panties in the middle of Thanksgiving dinner. Or when you peed your pants at the Taylor Swift concert with your sisters.

But it was all worth it for this.

Nobody doubts why you're in diapers anymore.

“Oh good,” your younger sister says, hugging her two young daughters, “I’m proud of you two for keeping your pull-ups clean when Auntie Maria is still pooping her diapies!”

You blush, letting the humiliation wash over you.

That subtle, condescending humiliation you crave.

The humiliation your sisters are all too happy to provide. Because you, the golden child, are back in diapers.

“Stop teasing Maria, girls,” your mom scolds.

She looks at you with the same expression you’d expect from seeing a baby duck covered in oil, needing rescue. “Why don’t you go change your diaper, sweetheart?”

A pitiful look for a helpless diaper girl in a poopy diaper.

You oblige, grabbing your diaper bag. Doing your best to hide a smile.

As you reach the top of the stairs, your mom shouts, “Let me know if you need help, honey! I know messy diapers can be tricky!”

Exposing yourself as the diaper girl you are was the best decision you’ve ever made in your life.

[spacecowboyy0]

bucky barnes deserves baby reg reader!!!!

i completely agree!! i saw a tiktok of a mom who brought her kid to a martial arts gym so she could practice and her kid had a little set up in the corner and one comment said: “You watch Bluey while momma chokes the life outta someone, k pumpkin?” and i thought that was hilarious, so that's the inspo for this

notes: cg!bucky, cg!nat and reader live together but buck and nat are not in a relationship (i think they're both super gay)

~1k words

You enter the boxing gym on Bucky’s hip, head resting on his shoulder. A group of you planned to spar together in a gym that you have access to. Peter had saved the owner’s daughter from getting robbed one night and now he could use the gym whenever he wanted. At least once a month you, Peter, Natasha, Bucky, Matt, Frank and Wade (sometimes a few other vigilantes) sparred together. You had planned on sparring but when you woke up feeling smaller than usual, Bucky decided it would be best if you didn’t participate (you were a little disappointed but still happy to come). 

Matt, Frank and Peter are already there when the three of you arrive. Natasha trails behind Bucky, holding two gym bags and your backpack. You squeal when you see the others, slapping your hand against Bucky’s chest in excitement. He laughs and bounces you a bit before letting you down. You run to Peter and give him a big hug. 

“Hey Petey!”

“Hi bug! No sparring for you today?” 

“Nu uh, papa says ‘m too small.” You look beside him where Matt and Frank are watching the interaction. Matt greets you with a small wave and you give him a quick hug before turning your attention to Frank. You raise your arms, requesting to be picked up, and try to give him a convincing look. 

“Please Frankie?” He tries to keep his hard expression but everyone knows he has a soft spot for you anyway, so he lifts you into his arms. When you snuggle into him, he smiles a little bit, but enough for Peter, Matt, and Wade (who just came over) to notice. They give him teasing looks and Frank just rolls his eyes.

Natasha sets down your backpack, and pulls out a blanket to spread out beside it. Frank carries you over to your area, in a spot close to all the action. He places you down on the blanket and then hands you your sketchbook and markers from your bag. You smile up at him gratefully, and he gives you a pat on the head before heading towards the ring. Nat crouches down in front of you, a soft look on her face. 

“You sit here and watch mama kick these boy’s asses, alright pumpkin?”

“Yeah!”

They’re right over there, you can literally see all of them, and yet you feel left out and needy. Colouring inside the lines is too frustrating but you can’t let go enough to scribble like you want. You tear up, getting overwhelmed by your confusing emotions. As it happened, you are in the presence of people trained to be observant, so it doesn’t take long for someone to notice your tears. Nat is fighting Matt in the ring, so Wade nudges Bucky, who stands beside him as they watch the match.

“Buck, your kid’s crying.” Bucky looks over his shoulder to where you are on your blanket with wide, wet eyes, and your bottom lip wobbling. He jogs over to you, and carefully picks you up. 

“What’s up baby?” He looks concerned as he wipes your tears with his thumb and then softly brushes your hair out of your face. 

“I dunno, jus’ feel sad ‘n miss you.” 

“Aww kid, you can keep me company while I watch the others spar ok?” You nod, sniff, and rest your head on his shoulder. He makes sure you’re secure in the crook of his arm before rifling through your bag and grabs your pacifier. He taps it against your lips and you open your mouth slightly to accept it. He walks back over to the others who are watching by the sidelines, and you hear Peter coo when you get close. 

“We got a gym baby with us?”

Bucky bounces you a bit and then turns his body so you can see Peter. You look spaced out and cozy as you rest against Bucky. The group only stays about 10 minutes longer, and the whole time you’re attached to Bucky. 

When you get back to the apartment, you lie on the bed, waiting for Bucky to get out of the shower. You play with the ring on your pacifier and roll around on the duvet. You perk up when you hear the bathroom door open, and reach out for him as he comes out. 

“I’ll be right there cutie, let me get something quick.” You grumble and watch him as he walks over to the closet and pulls fabric out of a box. 

It was Bucky’s birthday recently and Peter gifted him a special fabric that he can use to carry you around the house. There hasn’t been an opportunity to try it yet, but you’re currently clingy and tiny, and dinner needs to be made, so it’s the perfect time. 

You watch with curiosity as Bucky wraps the fabric around his stomach and then pulls it over his shoulders. 

“Alright come here baby.” He reaches his hands out and you crawl over to him. He picks you up under your armpits and rests you against his chest. You’re squished against him so you can’t see what he’s doing but you feel the fabric wrap around you, making you nice and snug. You take a moment to shift around, getting used to the new position. 

Bucky watches as you wiggle a bit before closing your eyes and relaxing fully. When he walks into the kitchen, where Nat is chopping carrots, she coos when she sees you and pauses her cutting to brush her hand over your head lovingly. 

“We got a little snug bug hm?”

“I think we gotta get this soup started so this one can eat. That sound good baby?” With your eyes closed, you respond with a quiet “mhm” and Bucky kisses the top of your head. 

i've been meaning to write for bucky so thanks for the push anon!

[nerdylosernat]

Can you write headcannons about Nat x R where they got back together despite being divorced as they realized they still love each other? Thank you!

MY SHAYLA SORRY FOR NOT SEEING THIS | SFW

First of all, r is making it hard for Nat to take her back. R allowed Natasha for a second chance, that means more time spent with Natasha and the kids.

One time, when Nat is not asking or should I say begging for another chance yet, the babysitter which was Kate contacted Nat (she was Nat's spy, because she is a big shipper of r and Nat) that r is leaving and she's "fixing" herself up. Nat was confused since whenever you have something to do you would ask her to take the kids instead of having someone to babysit them. She immediately drove to your home, "Where is she?" Kate could only shake and point towards your room, the kids screamed in happiness when they saw Natasha but she just quickly kissed them both and immediately rushed to your room which was your shared room before. There, she saw you trying on some dress. She saw your bare back as you slip some dress on, you jumped when she stalked towards you and kneel. "Please don't go, please don't go on your date, baby, please." She was hugging your thighs, her head on your stomach as she cried like a kid, "Baby please, please. I can't see you seeing someone please. Give me another chance, please baby allow me to make it right, Y/N." You were crying now as well, trying to push her by her shoulders, "Nat, please stop." Only for her to tighten her hug on your thighs, she was burrying her forehead on your stomach as she sob. "No, no, no. I am not letting you go, I will not see you go away again this time. P-please...baby, once chance baby please?" Your make up was ruined, the tears are now unstopabble, "I really need to go, Nat. It's either you drive me to our company night or cry like a child here." It was a final decision of yours to go to the company party so you weren't able to contact Nat. You're not going on a date, she realized then she stood, fixed herself, wiped her swollen face messily. You giggled at the sight and did it yourself and kissed her cheek softly. It was something. She pulled you towards her and almost kissed you on your lips but you immediately stopped her, "No, touching, you haven't earned that yet. Zip my dress up and wait for me downstairs." You instructed her like a mother scolding it's child. Then you turned around and zipped you dress, she was fighting the urge not to kiss your shoulder but she listened like a good wife she is.

As for Nat making it up, she's always following your around and the kids carrying all your stuff and all the stuff kids bought on the mall. While you are hand in hand with the kids, but when you are now in the restaurant and you saw Natasha's tired look, you reward her with a kiss on a cheek and you would pay for the food.

She would always bring you flowers whenever she go to your home, a bouquet of flowers and 1 each for your kids.

Having Natasha back at home is like having 3 kids. One time you gave your second born a timeout for spilling your coffee not knowing that it was Natasha's fault for playing with her too much. She left your daughter on the crime scene. But Natasha admitted when she saw your kid, so both of them received a time out, Natasha sitting in front of the wall, pouting like a kid while you carry your second born, spoiling and apologizing to her. Natasha having to hear the kisses and smooches you give your daughter and her looking back with a frown, "Natalia! Additional 15 minutes!" She could only whimper and look back at her beautiful scenery of a white wall. "Dammit." She murmured under her breath, "Natalia Alianovna Romanoff, I heard that, additional 10 more minutes!"

You wouldn't let her touch you, you would be the one initiating the small touches not until you finally let her during your first date.

[yourname-exee]

A video I saw on Instagram (@erika.dayshawn) and it inspired this fic entirely!!

A/n: I wrote Sukuna's one a little different, this is how I imagined he be with his little girl.

How the jjk men would react to their babies first shots

Gojo

His leg bounced as he held his daughter, her eyes, the ones that match her father's, stared up at him with pure unawareness as she babbled. Gojo face scrunching up when a knock was heard from the doctors door, your hand gently squeezed his shoulder trying to provide some sort of comfort to your husband, whispering.

'Saturo she'll be okay'

He only shook his head, a nervous smile playing on his lips when the nurse walked in with the tray of shots, his form tensing as his hold on his daughter tightened only slightly. She's completely unaware of what's to come looking at the nurse with a playful glint in her eyes as Gojo adjusted her, hesitantly, so the nurse can give her the shots properly. He turns his head not looking as the nurse rubs the alcohol pad against the chubby part of her thigh before pinching lightly and pushing the needle within her skin, a soft whimper had Gojo's face scrunching but the wail that soon followed after the the nurse poked her two more times had Gojo cradling her to his chest about ready to fight the nurse if she came at her with one more needle, luckily for anyone in a five mile radius she was done. You soothed your hand up and down Gojos back as a way to provide the man comfort as if he was the one to get the shots, your other hand smoothing over your daughters head cooing at her gently, as she calms down.

Geto

Although he seemed composed he was wracked with nerves on the inside, as he held his son gently. You sat next to Geto your nerves on display in the form of bouncing your leg, once the nurse walked in causing Geto to adjust your boy so the nurse had easier access to the chubby part of his thigh, prepping to give the shots, Geto wrapped his fingers around the calf of his left leg holding it slightly, the nurse approaching with the needle, your son babbling unaware but soon a wail broke through when he felt the sting of the shot. Geto couldn't keep up a front no more, his eyes scanning the nurse seeming to size her up , a glare cutting through as the nurse came back with another needle, your baby boy wailing louder when it went through his skin. Geto tightened his hold on your son his eyes seeming to flare hotter causing you to pat his knee gently whispering only for him to hear.

'Stop looking at her like that, she's only doing her job'

This doesn't help ease the intensity of his glare as the nurse cleaned up leaving in a haste a sheepish look on her face as she exits, you only shake your head reaching for your son to help soothe him but Geto only stands with him bouncing gently, the wails soon fall into soft whimpers and then he's back to babbling, not as happy but still babbles. Getos glares, not as intense but now aimed at you as you pack up the baby bag, standing up fixing him with a look once you notice him glaring, this has his glare fading as you both make your way to leave.

Nanami

He was nervous but not in the way one normal would be. He held onto your little girl, shielding her within his arms slightly, as he hounded the nurse with questions. The nurse patient and understanding answered the questions with ease, although that didn't do anything to calm your poor husband's nerves. The nurse set up the tray Nanami asking quickly.

'You sterilized those correct?'

The nurse smiled gently at Nanami nodding her head, your hand coming out to run along the forearm of Nanami, hoping to soothe him but once the first shot was given and the wails of your 1 year old baby girl broke out, you felt the muscles in his forearms tense as his hold on his little girl tightened a little. Two more shots were given and Nanami seemed to be breathing heavily as if he was the one to get pocked. The nurse bid a goodbye after handing the 1 year old a lollipop per request of your husband. Leaving you both to pack up and get her dressed, Nanami seemed calm as he put the onesie back on her, her brown eyes sparkling with unfallen tears as she stared up at her daddy, babbling away completely forgetting the shots.

Sukuna

You tried everything in your power to keep this from your hot headed husband, took phone calls for this in private, even tried to have Uraume act as a distraction to keep Sukuna busy the day his little girl had to get shots, but at last those attempts all fell futile, as Sukuna now occupies you in the nurses office a look of pure anger on his face when he heard the news that she needed to get her shots done. The poor nurse is practically trembling as she set up for the shots, Sukuna's glare seared into the back of her head as he held your little girl, nerves wracking you for very different reasons as you watch the nurse approach with the first round of shots, you flinch when the wails of your sweet girl echo through the room, muscles tense when you hear a soft growl leave Sukuna, your hands coming down to hold onto his wrists as a way to help ground him, the nurse giving her the last round of shots, quickly leaving the room, shrinking under your husband's firey eyes. Sukuna's eyes then land on your form still hot with a glare as he stands gently bouncing your daughter, eyes never leaving your form when you pack up the baby bag.

Later that evening a news report came on, stating that the pediatrician you guys came from was now a pile of ash...

'RYOMEN'

[zepskies]

Outlander - Part 4

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC 

Summary: Dean Winchester has been stripped of his military rank, but he’s living happier with his new wife, trying to adjust to a new life in her tribe. What will it take for her people to accept him, especially when the battle for her heart might not be completely won? 

AN: Happy Birthday, Dean Winchester!! 🥳 Now, the actual grand finale…

Disclaimer: I first got inspired to write The Honorable Choice for @jacklesversebingo after a recent rewatch of Spirit: The Stallion of the Cimarron (with a tinge of Yellowstone in the mix). I’ve done a fair bit of research for this now ongoing series, both on the Native American Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s; AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars.

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: Western AU

Song Inspo: The Spirit Soundtrack

Word Count: 6K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Protective Dean, survival situations, blood and violence, angst, fluff, and spice.~

🐎 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 4: One People

Dean straps on his bow and arrow, but first he takes up his gun from his thigh holster. Then he saddles up Mato and climbs up on his back.

The horse is raring to go, and for once he responds to the firmness of Dean’s tone and trusts him enough to obey his commands.

Šóta, Otaktay, and the other men do the same with their horses. Soon, they’re thundering down the hill into the village.

It’s already chaos.

Dean recognizes the blue uniforms of the U.S. Cavalrymen tearing through tipis and shooting with rifles and revolvers. They must’ve tracked Šóta and his men back to the village.

Men and horses are the main targets, but women and children are getting caught in the crossfire. Šóta purposefully knocks his horse into an officer who had his weapon aimed at Misae and her two daughters. Otaktay guides them in the opposite direction, pointing the way to escape into the forest.

Dean rides onward through the village. He and Mato leap over fallen bodies and horses, and Dean shoots at an officer who would’ve shot him first. He has to be careful with his bullets though. He only has two left.

He fights his way to the center, all the while searching for any sight of Mila’s dark hair. It’s almost impossible to see with so many people running and screaming and fighting. But when he hears a familiar voice, Dean cuts to an abrupt stop.

Chief Tahatan rides his horse, white and dappled black. He wields an ax as the horse rears up on his hind legs and lets loose a powerful bray. Just ahead of him is Colonel Sanderson, flanked by Benny and another officer. The Colonel holds a rifle poised in his hands.

“Stop!” Dean shouts.

He rides hard towards the scene. He takes aim with his gun, and he shoots. The bullet clips Sanderson in the shoulder. Yelling in pain, he recoils from the force of the bullet and misses his shot.

Dean’s just not fast enough.

The Colonel’s bullet ricochets off the ground and hits Tahatan’s horse. The animal whinnies and buckles, and he brings Tahatan down along with him, rolling onto his side and crushing the Chief’s legs and most of his torso under the horse’s weight. Dean hears the crunch of bone as the Chief utters a stifled grunt.

Gritting his teeth, Dean brings Mato to a short stop in front of the Chief. Dean aims his gun at the Colonel. By now, the man is clutching his bleeding shoulder and staring at his former captain in disbelief. Benny is maybe a little less shocked to see Dean, but there’s conflict in his eyes—happiness mixed with turmoil.

The other officer is Jack Kline. He recognizes Dean too, with wide eyes and a gaping mouth.

“You…” Sanderson trails. He blinks, his brows furrowing. “Dean Winchester.”

Other officers come to join him, both on their horses and on foot. A few of them have wrangled women and their children, along with a few men. One man is dragging Mila along by the arm, even though she pulls and struggles against his hold. He has a long, jagged cut over one closed eye that streams with blood, and Dean doesn’t have to wonder how it got there. The man holds Mila’s own knife to her throat.

Dean’s heart falls into his stomach as he meets her gaze. Hers is angry, until she finds him. Her brown eyes are relieved and hopeful, but then worried for him. Dean reads it all there. He knows her face as well as he knows his own.

“Now this is what we call an interesting development,” Sanderson says, dragging Dean’s attention back to him.

Dean only feels moderately better when Šóta, Otaktay, Chatan, and a couple of the other men come to flank him on either side. Weaya manages to shuffle away from the officer at her back, just to go to Tahatan. He’s still lying there under his horse, breathing shallowly. Šóta itches to climb down from his horse and go to his father, but he can’t allow Dean to stand on his own.

“Apparently your death has been greatly exaggerated, son,” Sanderson says. He glances at Benny, who wears a grim, guilty frown.

“I’m not your fucking son,” Dean says, his voice laden with grit. His hand tightens on his raised gun.

Sanderson tsks at him while Jack wraps a rag tightly around his arm to help stem the bleeding. Afterwards, he adjusts his blue jacket and his Stetson.

“Is this really how you’ve been living for all these months? Like a dog, sleeping in the thatch with the fleas,” he remarks as he glances around. But his gaze stops on Mila. His brows crunch together as recognition dawns in his eyes.

“Ah, now I see why,” he says. He reaches for his pistol at his belt and points it at Mila, like it’s merely an extension of his hand. Dean’s jaw clenches. Chatan and Šóta become even more tense; their horses shift in place, picking up on their riders’ unrest. Sanderson notes their reactions, and finally Dean’s too.

“Instead of putting this savage bitch down, you took her for yourself, didn’t you?” Sanderson wonders aloud. His face breaks into amusement, as his deep chuckle echoes in the clearing. “You threw it all away. A promising career, your respect as a man, and even your life. A traitor to your goddamn country. And for what?”

His thumb pulls back the safety on his revolver.

“Enough, you bastard. You deal with me,” Dean tersely demands. He slowly lowers his gun, and his last bullet. “Let her go. Let them all go, and you can have me. Court martial me. Hell, put me in front of a firing squad, or put me down like a dog if that’s what you want… But let them go.” 

Mila breaths in sharply. She stares at Dean like she wants to protest.

“Ah, but ya see, I didn’t come here for you,” Sanderson says. Without taking his aim off Mila, his shifts his gaze down to Tahatan, who struggles for every breath. “I’m gonna wash this land clean, from here to the West Coast. However long it takes.”

“Colonel!” an officer calls out. He approaches on a horse, though he leads a man by a rope that ties his wrists behind his back.

Dean’s eyes widen in shock. It’s Cas, and he has Sam as his captive. Sam is dirtier and more disheveled since Dean saw him off not too long ago. He’s lost his hat and his horse, but he doesn’t look afraid when he meets Dean’s gaze, then the assessing Colonel.

“Mr. Winchester. I should’ve known,” Sanderson says dryly. “Here to reacquaint yourself with your brother? Though I’ve got a feeling you already have.”

“What’re you gonna do about it? Kill me?” Sam says. “In case you’ve forgotten, I work for the government too. I’m a prosecutor for all the surrounding counties in Kansas City.”

Sanderson raises a brow. “Is that supposed to intimidate me, son?”

“It should, Colonel,” Sam says. He nods at his brother. “The world already thinks he’s dead. Fine. But there’s plenty of people who know I traveled to Fort Laramie. People high up in the chain of command. If you hurt me, my brother, or these people, someone’s gonna hear about it. And soon.”

“He’s got a point there, Colonel,” Benny says.

“You shut the fuck up!” Sanderson barks at his captain. “You’re lucky I don’t shoot you down where you stand. You and Novak. But believe you me, I’ll be dealin’ with you later.”

Sanderson continues to seethe. He thinks hard about the decision he makes next as he stares down at Sam, and then back up at Dean. He grits his teeth, his mustache twitching. Dean holds his breath, though he briefly meets eyes with his brother.

Slowly, Sanderson lowers his weapon away from Mila. Dean can breathe again, if shallowly. He doesn’t drop his guard though. In fact, he watches Sanderson even closer.

“I’ll give you dirty mongrels one hour to clear out of here,” Sanderson says, his eyes narrowed. “Anything left gets tied down and burned to charcoal.”

With that, he sharply tugs on his horse’s reins. He commands his men to fall back, and like the soldiers they are, they obey. Benny and Cas both cast Dean a backwards glance—one that tells Dean that he still has the loyalty of his friends. He now realizes that Cas brought Sam back for a purpose; it wasn’t to hurt him, but to help him. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if the whole “capture” was Sam’s idea.

After the soldiers clear out of the area with the Colonel, Dean and the other men dismount from their horses. He beelines for Mila, gathering her into the safety of his arms. Then he spares a hand to grab his brother’s shoulder as he smiles.

“I think I’m more glad to see you the second time,” Dean remarks.

“I’ll take that,” Sam says. His grin is infectious, but Dean returns his attention to his wife. He touches her cheek and runs his assessing gaze over her body. He frowns as he examines the thin cut along her neck where the soldier pressed the blade of her knife.

“You okay? Are you hurt?” he asks.

Mila shakes her head. “I’m fine.” Though she inspects him the same way with a wandering hand across his chest. Dean takes that hand and gives her a reassuring smile.

It falls when he hears Weaya crying. She sits beside three other women, including Šóta’s mother.

“Father,” Šóta says lowly. His voice is a rasp as he kneels beside Tahatan’s broken body, holding his hand. The chief manages to raise his head slightly. He looks at his son, and then his gaze travels. Eventually, it falls on Dean.

Tahatan smiles.

“Under this sky,” he says. “We are one people.”

 He takes three more labored breaths before his eyes close. Šóta lays his father’s limp hand over his chest, which no longer moves.

Šóta’s mother gently raises her husband’s head to remove his long headdress. Among other things, it’s made of leather, glass beads, horsehair, and eagle tail feathers. Each feather represents a warrior’s honor earned in war, like a soldier’s insignia. 

With shaking hands, she places it on Šóta’s head. He takes a deep breath, and he looks up at the many tear-stained faces that mirror his own.

“We have to go,” he says.

Sam stays to help mobilize the tribe. He helps a mother join her children into one of the caravans, then he and Otaktay heft rolled up tipis and supplies into the back of it.

“You are a law man?” Otaktay asks him.

Sam nods. “That’s right.”

“Make better laws,” Otaktay says, and walks away.

Sam is left with a bemused look on his face. Dean comes over and thumps him on the back.

“Making friends?” he says dryly.

“Don’t think so,” Sam replies. He shakes his head and follows his brother over to the second caravan.

“Eh, consider yourself lucky. That guy pretty much hates my guts,” Dean whispers.

Sam raises his brows. “What?”

Dean explains the story in its simplest, briefest terms. Meanwhile, the mood around their packing is somber and quiet.

For Mila, it feels wrong. It’s wrong for them to have to leave the river where they’ve tilled and nurtured the land for three generations. It’s wrong to leave Chief Tahatan’s body wrapped beside Takoda’s on the hill without at least one proper night of mourning. She feels her grief down to her very core, but all she can do is sit in the caravan beside her mother and hold protective hands around the small swell of her stomach. Her tears fall silently down her cheeks and dissolve between the indigo beads on her dress.

She only raises her head when Chatan comes to check on her and her mother. He touches Mila’s cheek, drying her tears there. He leans in to kiss Weaya’s hand.

“We leave soon,” he says.

“Where is Dean?” Mila asks.

“Helping Šóta,” Chatan replies, but he stops short and corrects himself. “He helps our Chief.”

A few moments later, the caravans begin to move as the horses pull with the reins. Šóta leads at the front with a few of the warriors, but the rest of them ride strategically around and behind the caravans. Sam and Dean fall back to ride beside Mila’s caravan, where Chatan sits at the helm. Sam has been given the horse of a fallen warrior, while Dean rides Mato.

Despite how low she feels, Mila smiles at the sight of her horse allowing Dean to ride him, even with a saddle and bridle.

“Mato is being agreeable,” she remarks.

“You sound surprised,” Dean says, teasing slightly. “Told you I’d get him to trust me eventually.”

“More like wear him down,” she quips back.

“Hey, he impregnated my mare. Without my say so, I might add. I’d say we’re proper father and son-in-law.”

“Yes,” Chatan chimes in wryly. “That is what that means.”

Mila scoffs at him, but the gleam of good humor in his eyes amuses her. She smiles as she rubs a hand over her belly. Dean smiles too. It’s strange that he can still do that after a night like tonight, but seeing Chatan do it, along with Sam, and Mila, and her mother too, it gives him hope for them—for all of them.

Until the first gunshot fires into the air.

Dean freezes. His body coils tight, and he turns to look sharply over his shoulder.

He shouldn’t be surprised that Colonel Sanderson went back on his word. His cavalrymen are gaining behind them on horseback, hooting and hollering like it’s a game for sport. His jaw clenching in both anger and determination, Dean tells Chatan to speed up the caravan. He locks eyes with Mila for a moment.

Be safe, he tries to say with that look.

Then he gives Sam a nod; together they speed up to alert Šóta at the front.

“They’re gaining on us,” Dean says, gesturing behind them. “We need to lead them away from the caravans and pick ‘em off—as many as we can.”

Šóta nods in grim agreement, but he has a moment of hesitation as he considers Dean.

“You go with the caravans,” he says.

Dean shakes his head. “No, I’m ending this. Once and for all.”

“You are willing to fight your people?” Šóta asks.

The set of Dean’s determined face doesn’t change.

“I’m protecting my people,” he says. He looks to Sam. “Stay with the caravans. Make sure they get across the river.”

Sam agrees, and the men split ways. Dean turns Mato away from the group along with Šóta and Otaktay, and a few other warriors. The caravans continue with Sam to help guide them. Mila clings to the edge and watches with growing dread as her husband rides farther and farther away from her.

Dean can’t allow himself to look back. Instead of drawing his gun, he reaches for his bow strapped to his back and an arrow from his quiver. He takes aim at the first soldier he sees raise his gun, along with a steadying breath, and he shoots his arrow before the other man can fire. The arrow embeds itself in the man’s chest and knocks him clean off his horse.

Šóta and Otaktay follow suit. They shout out yips and battle cries on the air as they take aim. The soldiers begin to scatter out of their formation. They weren’t expecting the Lakota to go on the offensive. Sanderson has conveniently let his men ride ahead of him, but Dean hears him giving the orders from behind. The Colonel has his left arm wrapped in a sling while he holds his gun aloft.

“All right, mustang,” Dean says to Mato, tightening his hands on the reins. “Remind ‘em why they should be scared a’ you.”

He gives the stallion a subtle kick. It’s just enough for him to pick up into a full gallop. Dean tucks his head down and lets the horse speed forward like a bullet carving across the plain. The soldiers take aim, but that’s when Šóta and Otaktay join in from behind. They begin to take down the uniformed men, one by one as they weave between bullets. 

Dean tears between two officers and unbalances them. Mato, with his big head and chest, bulldozes straight through them. They shout in surprise and fear, and one of them even topples off his horse. Dean banks left and turns Mato around to finish what he started.

He retrieves his knife from his thigh holster and slices into one man’s neck, making him choke on his own blood. Dean forcefully takes the rifle off another man, and after flipping it around, hits him dead between the eyes with the butt of it—once, then twice until his nose breaks. He careens back off his horse into the dirt. Dean wracks the rifle and shoots the man for good measure.

The sound of a safety clicking back alerts him and turns his head, but he’s too late.

An arrow flies into the officer’s throat.

Dean looks over sharply. He finds Otaktay, lowering his bow.

Dean’s eyes widen. The other man just saved his life.

Dean nods in thanks, and Otaktay slowly returns the gesture. The moment is cut short, however, when Dean sharpens in alarm. Instead of opening his mouth to warn, he knows he has no time, not even to grab another arrow. He just throws his knife.

It carves through the air and hits Jack Kline where his arm meets his shoulder—his shooting arm that would’ve clipped Otaktay with his pistol. Jack falls off his horse and hits the ground hard, the air leaving his lungs in a hot rush. He groans in pain while clutching his arm. It’s not an easy wound, but he’ll live…as long as Otaktay doesn’t kill him first. Still on his horse, he towers over the younger man with another arrow notched.

“Wait!” Dean shouts.

He meant what he said about finishing this, but now looking at Jack, all Dean sees is a kid following orders. He doesn’t deserve to die like this, hundreds of miles away from home, just trying to make something of himself.

Otaktay looks up, wasting a precious second. Another beat, and a bullet tears into him, almost forcing him off his horse. Dean grits his teeth and speeds forward. Šóta rejoins them in time to help lead Otaktay away; he’s been hit in the side. There’s no telling how deep, but all Dean can focus on is the path ahead.

He comes face to face with Colonel Sanderson.

Dean raises his bow and arrow and ducks his head against another bullet, still shooting off his arrow. It misses its aim at the horse’s legs, but it spooks him enough to whinny in distress. It begins to buck off the Colonel.

“Whoa!” he shouts, trying to take back control of the horse. Dean rides in close and cracks a fist across Sanderson’s face. His head whips back with a pained grunt. Dean grabs his wrist and twists, until he feels tendons popping and the gun loosened from the other man’s hand. Then, Dean brings his elbow up into Sanderson’s nose and spills blood.

“Fuck!” Sanderson growls. He manages to land a punch of his own with his left arm, despite how it makes his shoulder bleed again. Dean recovers from the blow to his cheek and goes to grab that wound, digging in his fingers hard. He’s satisfied by the howl of pain Sanderson lets loose.

Dean doesn’t care if it’s a dirty tactic. He’s taking any opportunity he can, because right now, it’s not about his honor. It’s about protecting what’s his.

But Sanderson fights back just as dirty. He grabs Dean by the back of his neck and headbutts him, so hard he sees stars. Sanderson lands one more kick to Dean’s chest that almost sends him off of Mato. Dean has to grab on tight to the saddle and pull himself up, just in time for a lassoed rope to circle around his neck. Dean’s eyes fly wide in alarm. He slips his hand between the rope and his neck just in time before it tightens—because Sanderson tugs hard as he urges his horse into a gallop.

“Aw, sh—” Dean is yanked off Mato. He lands hard in the dirt, before he begins to be dragged across it.

Once again, the current is strong across Little Cheyenne. The first caravan has more horses to pull it through, but the caravan that Chatan is trying to lead starts to take on water. Mila and her mother sit behind him, along with Misae and her daughters, Tahatan’s widows, and Eyota and her husband.

The colt is doing his best to keep going, but Baby and two of the other horses are struggling in the pull of the river. They’ve hit a deeper patch under the water, and now it’s all the way up to Baby’s chest. She can’t handle the weight of the caravan along with the river’s current.

Sam comes closer with rope in hand, but Mila can see in his eyes that he’s trying to decide what to do. She grasps the edge of the caravan to pull herself up, and she points to the black mare.

“She needs help!” she calls out to him.

“Mila, sit down!” Chatan orders.

Mila turns back to her father with a determined set to her face. She knows his ankle has never healed entirely right. If he tries to do what she’s about to do, he’d probably fall into the river and get trampled by the horses. She knows what she must do.

She carefully stands up all the way and moves to the edge of the caravan, ignoring her father and mother trying to stop her. Sam’s eyes grow wide, but he tries to come in closer to support her. She steps out onto Baby’s back and slides into an astride position. The frigid water climbs up Mila’s dress and reaches her waist, making her shiver, but she ignores that too. She reaches out for Sam.

“Throw me the rope!” she calls out.

Sam follows her lead and does what she says. Mila not only catches the rope, but loops the ends of it around Baby’s bridle and around her chest. It’s hard work, especially because Mila has to tread water just to get the rope around the mare’s wide chest, but Sam helps her as much as he can.

When they’ve finished securing the ropes, Sam pulls ahead. With his horse leading Baby, she gets the momentum she needs to climb out of the dip, and eventually, cross the rest of the river.

Mila is sopping wet by the time they make it to the other side. Her braid has come loose, and so her hair becomes a black curtain around her face. She clings to Baby as she catches her breath, stroking the horse’s neck.

“Good girl. Big, strong girl,” she soothes. “Your father will be proud of you.”

Speaking of, Mila turns to look back. Across the river, the men are still fighting off the soldiers that sought to finish what they started last night. Mila scans with narrowed eyes for Dean.

“You all right?” Sam asks. He sidles up next to her and grasps her shoulder to make sure.

“Fine,” she breathes.

But she hesitates on a sharp inhale. Her brows furrow as she tries to make sure of what she’s seeing. Her mouth drops open in shock.

“Sam!” She points out the shape of a man she thinks is Dean. Sam follows her line of vision and becomes just as alarmed at what he sees.

Mila immediately takes her father’s knife from her shoe and cuts the ropes that bind Baby to the caravan. Mila puts her fingers to her lips and whistles sharply instead of kicking the mare. Baby sharpens to attention and heeds the command, just like she’s done for Dean a hundred times before.

Mila guides her back through the river.

Dean is being road hauled across the plain. He hits every bump, rock, twig, and dry patch of dirt in several yards as he twists and struggles to break free.

He lost his knife to save Otaktay, and he’s probably lost all his arrows along with his bow. Dean grits his teeth, as he can hear Sanderson’s insane hooting and hollering on the wind whipping past his ears, and not much else.

He doesn’t know where Šóta is, or if even Otaktay’s still alive, but his last thoughts aren’t about them. Instinctively, he thinks of his wife. It’s not even a coherent thought. It’s just her name, her face, her hand on his heart.

And the rope snaps.

Dean grunts as his momentum slows. He rolls across the dirt and grass to a stop. He probably has road burns and cuts and bruises all down his back, but at least he can stare up at the morning sun and breathe.

Heaving for free air, he tugs the rope from around his neck and shoves it off. He hears familiar horse hooves galloping his way. Somehow, he manages to raise his head.

Now, either the sun is playing tricks on him, or a black shape is thundering towards him.

Apparently, his eyes aren’t lying to him. Baby slows to a stop, and Mila climbs down from her back. Mila rushes to his side and kneels beside him after putting away her knife. She takes his face into her gentle hands.

“Dean?” she says, her voice tinged with desperation.

He grabs onto her wrist and smiles weakly, looking up at her soulful brown eyes.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he says.

She sighs and shakes her head, despite the tears in her eyes.

“Be quiet,” she laughs. Dean just grins.

She cups the back of his neck and guides him up slowly into a sitting position. His back is a bloody mess, but they’ll deal with that later.

“You all right, brother?”

Dean’s smile drops. He clutches at Mila’s arm protectively, but he looks up at Benny Lafitte. His horse shifts in place. Dean finally notices Sam is there too, with his gun trained on Benny. But Benny’s gun is raised right back at Sam.

They’re joined by Colonel Sanderson. He wears a self-satisfied look on his face as he approaches with his pistol held aloft.

“Well, well,” he drawls. “Ain’t this a picture. Traitors and savages.”

Mila keeps her back to the Colonel; she stubbornly defends Dean with her body, even though he’s gathered her to his chest protectively. With his right hand, he subtly reaches for the gun holster at his thigh. One last weapon. One last shot.

He shares a look with Mila, silently asking her to trust him. She gives him a subtle nod.

“Captain Lafitte,” Sanderson addresses Benny, even though his gaze is straight on Dean and Mila. He holds Sam in his periphery. “Now’s the time to take a stand. Are you gonna serve your country and put these three in the ground where they belong, or are you gonna join ‘em?”

Benny stares back at his superior officer. He thought he understood before, but today is when he truly understands why Dean made his choice.

Benny lowers his weapon down to his side.

“This ain’t the law,” he says. “This ain’t justice. It’s just pride, plain and simple. Your pride, Colonel.”

After a moment of genuine surprise, Sanderson rolls his eyes. He shifts his gun off of Sam and points it at Benny next.

A trigger fires, but the bullet that hits its mark is not the Colonel’s.

It’s Dean’s, and it hits Asmodeus Sanderson between the eyes.

Dean lowers his silver, smoking Colt down at his side, where Mila moved just in time for Dean to take his shot. He holds her to him now, taking in deep breaths.

Benny and Sam both look to Dean with shock still in their eyes, but before either of them can say anything, they notice Cas stumbling over on foot with a wounded Jack Kline leaning heavily on him. They’re flanked on both sides by Šóta and Otaktay. The latter has a cloth tied tight around his middle. His bullet wound just looks like a nasty graze.

The other warriors that remain follow behind, and they have Mato and Baby in tow by their bridles.

Dean realizes that Cas and Jack are the only other survivors from the rest of the unit. Šóta has taken them prisoner. He orders the other men to force Benny off of his horse. They shove him closer to Cas and Jack.

Dean quickly tries to raise up onto his knees, though it’s hard for him to stand. Mila helps him the rest of the way, and he keeps his arm wrapped around her shoulders.

“We will make an example of these,” Šóta says, nodding at Cas, Jack, and Benny. They look rightly nervous, shifting their gazes towards Dean.

Dean raises his hands to placate Šóta (and hopefully reassure his friends).

“Šóta, I know these guys. They were my men,” he says. “They were just following the Colonel’s orders.”

“And what does that mean to me, Dean Winchester?” Šóta says. He climbs down from his horse, his headdress of feathers tousled as a breeze rushes through.

“It means they won’t follow us,” Dean says. “They won’t tell the Army what actually happened here. They’ll keep their word if I ask them to. So I’m asking you…trust me. Trust me like you’ve trusted me before.”

Šóta seems to consider it, even though he doesn’t exactly like the idea. Otaktay seems to like it even less.

“We won’t betray you, Chief,” Benny says to Šóta, and to the other warriors. “We respect you, and we don’t want any more trouble. For us, or for Dean.”

Šóta considers this with a tilt of his head. Before he decides, first, he turns to Otaktay. Other than Dean, he’s now the man Šóta trusts most.

Otaktay looks over at Dean. Between them, there’s an understanding. Finally, there’s also respect. Otaktay returns his gaze to his leader, and he nods.

Šóta expels a deep breath. He addresses the three soldiers.

“Go. Go in peace, or next time, there will not be peace,” he says.

The soldiers breathe in relief.

Dean steps forward with Mila’s help. There he shakes each man’s hand. He’s said goodbye to Cas and Benny before, but somehow, this feels even more final than the last.

Benny and Cas are given back their horses. They help Jack up first, then Cas climbs up with him. Benny mounts his own horse, and Sam, Dean, and the Lakota watch them leave the way they came.

It takes days to cross the plains and maneuver through the mountains, but Šóta leads the rest of the tribe to safety within Sioux territory. They find a place to settle along the Big Cheyenne River, northeast of the Black Hills.

There they will learn the land and what to plant and forage there for the late autumn harvest, as summer ends. There is where they will honor the dead who couldn’t make the journey. There is where their traditions will be celebrated, old and new.

Like today. The men have painted each other with blue circles around their faces and blue lines across their foreheads, chins, and cheekbones. The women are painted similarly in red. It symbolizes change in its many forms, but most of all, it symbolizes new relationships, and new responsibilities.

Today, it’s Huŋkápi. The Making of Relatives. This ceremony formally welcomes Dean into the tribe by marriage. It also recognizes Sam as his brother, and so, it acknowledges Sam as a friend to their tribe as well. They are now all family. One people.

Dean sits with his brother around the large firepit, where a roasted boar is already half-eaten. Dean has shared a lot of meals with these people, but somehow, this one is the best he’s ever eaten. Maybe it’s the company, he thinks, as he laughs at some old story Sam is trying to tell.

“No, no, no, that’s not what happened. Let me tell it—”

“What, so you can make stuff up?”

“Oh, I’m making stuff up?”

Mila giggles quietly, but it’s enough to earn Dean’s attention. She sits at his left, and he turns to her with an amused smile.

“What’re you laughing at?” he teases. His arm wraps around her waist and pulls her in.

“You,” she replies. “You and your brother. You’re worse than me and Šóta.”

Dean chuckles and shakes his head. He points over at her cousin, their esteemed Chief, who’s busy making shadow creatures with exaggerated voices to impress the kids. Right now, it’s a big grizzly bear that threatens to eat the closest child.

“Worse than the grizzly?” Dean says.

“Hmm, maybe not,” she says with a laugh.

That evening, Dean is glad he convinced Sam to start sleeping in his own tipi. He agreed to stay until Mila has the baby, but while Dean is grateful to have his brother here for a few more months, he still wants some much-needed privacy with his wife.

He “helps” her undress for bed, all the while distracting her with lingering kisses across her neck and shoulders, winding his fingers into her long hair. He wraps his arms around her and cups her full breasts from behind, satisfied by the arousing way she moans.

“They’re heavier,” Dean whispers in her ear, gently squeezing her breasts. She hums in response. “Your thighs and hips are thicker too, nice and soft for me.” He squeezes those too for good measure.

“I am changing,” she admits. “Are they good changes?”

“Hell yeah,” Dean says, his lips moving against her throat. He gently turns her around and guides her down to lay on the bedding and furs. He palms at the best change of all—the growing swell of her belly. She’s gotten bigger, and growing a little more each week. Dean really wants to meet his kid.

He dips down to lay a path of slow, tender kisses down between her breasts, and over her belly. Mila smiles and threads her fingers through his hair. It’s getting long, brushing past his ears.

“Do you want a son, or a daughter?” she asks him. It’s not the first time she’s asked, but she wonders if his answer will change now, after everything they’ve gone through to get here. She finds that her own answer hasn’t changed.

Dean shakes his head. “I don’t care. Either one.”

All he wants is for the baby to be healthy, and for Mila to be healthy too. He moves back up to claim her lips. When he kisses her like this, he hopes she knows what he’s really saying. Just in case, he says it anyway. He says it out loud to her for the first time.

“I love you,” he says. He pauses, then smiles a little. “You know, you’re the only woman I’ve ever said that to.”

She smiles, because she knows. With her hand over his heart, she knows.

And when their son is born a few months later, she has a dream. She dreams of an eagle’s wings that shift from white to gold in the light.

Dean plans to give him a name he picked out weeks before, Elijah. It was his father’s middle name. But she will also give their son a name.

Ikíphi, the name her uncle, Chief Tahatan, gave Dean Winchester himself.

Because one day, she knows her son will be worthy of it.

AN: And there we have it! A more definitive end to Dean and Mila's story. 🥹

For those of you who read and enjoyed this, thank you so much for sticking with me through this sequel of The Honorable Choice. This was an idea that wouldn't let go of me once I started, and it's the first time that I've written something like this. 💖💖

Pronunciation Guide:

Wašíču ("wash-ee-jew") Šóta ("sho-tah") Chatan ("chat-tan") Tahatan ("ta-hat-tann") Otaktay ("ogh-tac-tay") Weaya ("we-ayy-ya") Takoda ("ta-koda") Mato ("matt-toe") Misae ("mee-sah-eh")

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[weregonnabecoolbeans]

As someone who immediately loved both Sol and Mother Aniseya the second I saw them…

Im conflicted

[cairavende]

Worm Arc 23 thoughts:

So much happened in so few chapters, how do I even break this down?!?

First off, Colin had better stop fucking bonding with my daughter! And apologizing and making amends for past wrongs! I'm a huge fan of redemption arcs and second chances and that is being used against me! JUST LET ME HATE THIS MAN!!!!!!

My bug daughter is in prison but that's almost like, a minor side thing? It barely matters right now except that it gives some background structure. Compared to everything else the prison bit is just . . . a thing.

I'm in tears over bug horse. I'm bawling. I may never recover. RIP Atlas, you were the best of us.

TAYLOR GOES TO THERAPY!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IT IS EVERYTHING I EVER WANTED!!!!!!

I love Jessica so much! She does such a good job. I want to bake her cookies as thanks but I'm not sure if that would trigger some type of conflict of interest.

Fucking Glenn. I want to hate him and love him all at the same time.

Is he an artist? Absolutely! He has a vision and it is beautiful.

But also if it comes down to "letting the world end or compromising said vision" he might be the kind of person who would watch the world burn with a tear running down his cheek, because at least it was beautiful.

Look I get it. My daughter is terrifying. But that isn't because bugs are scary. It's cause my daughter is terrifying. Making her use butterflies just means a bunch of people are gonna start having butterfly phobias.

Like come on, Clockblocker gets to break fundamental forces of the universe and cause people to question their very existence!

Do not try to tell me that someone getting time frozen and just . . . skipping a chunk of time because their mind is not part of the time stream for a few minutes would not provoke some deep thoughts of existential dread! Sure not in everyone, but not everyone is scared of bugs either! I just think it's very unfair.

The Adepts are fun. Sure powers aren't "magic" but might as well have fun with the idea! Besides it seems to be working and if I had powers I'd absolutely love to lean into a magical focus idea.

I am quite upset about the fact that during the whole Thirteenth Hour thing Weaver didn't get to shove bugs down Clockblocker's throat to save him. It would have been so poetic. Saving the day by shoving bugs down throats was still super amazing, I just wanted it to be Clockblocker.

It was the most extreme level of active awareness and minor "control" while being disabled that we've seen from Taylor so far though! Really curious to get more into that, the nature of passengers/shards, and all those things. I have so many thoughts, but they're all just speculation right now (I don't think writing 75 pages of theories that all end up being wrong is really gonna be very helpful).

“If anyone asks, you kicked their asses with butterflies.” Clockblocker gets it!

It was really cool to get more into different vibes of the world with the Vegas section! I love me some thinkers and strangers.

I'm very glad The Number Man used a sniper rifle. I would have been a little disappointed if he didn't after getting into his head in his interlude - it is just the perfect weapon for him. Motherfucker over here just bouncing bullets.

Finally got to see more Bambina after the little bit in arc 8. Her power is wild, I love it! Also Bambina's mom just shot right into the top contenders for "worst parent in Worm". Like, WTF lady.

August Prince is wild. Sucks when the most effective use of your power is "human shield" though.

Considering she had an interaction with The Number Man and Contessa, Taylor actually came out of it pretty good! Sure they lost the target they were trying to bring in, but I don't know that they really had a chance of keeping Pretender. Contessa isn't easy to stop.

The only problem I have with the Las Vegas Wards actions is hiring Bambina to break Pretender free. Otherwise ya, fucking ditch the Protectorate. Given the information they have it makes sense.

TAYLOR HAS FAN MAIL!!!!!!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!

Grue's letter was way to heartfelt. Tattletale clearly wrote most of it.

Like come on: "I could hit you, hug you, yell at you and hold onto you for hours all at the same time. It’s fitting that I want to kiss you and throttle you at the same time because that’s what you were to me for a long time. You drive me crazy and I can never understand what’s going through your head." This is totally Tattletale! She couldn't flirt with Taylor in her own letter, she had to be sneaky about it!

"You’re an idiot. I want you to know that. You’re an idiot, Skitter. You’re brilliant and reckless and I’m betting it makes sense to you to do this but you’re an idiot." - also Tattletale.

LOOK I'M GONNA MAKE THIS SHIT GAY AND THERE ISN'T ANYTHING YOU CAN DO TO STOP ME!!!!!!!

Imp's letter might be my favorite.

Tattletale's actual letter ends with "See you there, hun?" Just. So fucking gay. Sorry I don't make the rules.

Speaking of gay, Rachel's letter!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Wolfspider wolfspider wolfspider!

Like I mean come on

"Being around you wasn’t simple or quiet but things made more sense.  Your minion with dark hair said we need to be around people but I’m around people and still feel somethings missing." GAY

"Going to take puppies to your place again soon. Show the kids to them. Might help." SO GAY

"You have plan, okay. But if your plan means you’re thinking about fighting us you should know I am getting very good at hunting and skinning things." HOLY SHIT IT'S THE MOST LESBIAN THING EVER

"We both stay alive. Try hard." TOP-TIER GAY SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!

GGGGGGGGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

GAY GAY GAY GAY GAY GAY GAY

AND THE SCENE WITH THE CHILDREN!!! AND THE BUTTERFLIES! AND THE DICE!!!!!!!!!!!

dies of joy

Seriously, 23.4 is the most beautiful chapter in Worm so far and it'll be very hard for it to be outdone.

I could talk about just that chapter for pages. It was perfect in every way. Even if I knew it had to end with Behemoth pretty early on. There was too much hope in that chapter for it to end any other way.

But in the middle of all that downward "oh fuck it's Behemoth" stuff we got an Undersiders reunion! With so much gay!

Like - “But you guys mean a lot to me.  I’m sorry I didn’t say it before, but I couldn’t without letting on that something was going on.  You’re my family, in a way.  As lame as it might be, I love you guys.” My head turned from Grue to Rachel to Tattletale as I said it.

SO FUCKING GAY

She starts at Grue sure but ends with Rachel and Lisa when saying "I love you". Certified gay.

So gay that even Imp agrees! Though I've been doing the long drawn out “Gaaaaaaayyyyyyy” since like arc 2. So Imp is a bit behind the curve here.

TAYLOR WANTS TO GO ON A DOG PARK DATE WITH RACHEL! IT'S THE MOST LESBIAN DATE POSSIBLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!

Weaver's new flight suit is pretty neat. Dragon is a pretty good big sister.

Cody Interlude thoughts:

THIS motherfucker! I was waiting for him to show up again.

I am so mad. I'm so fucking mad.

Cody is the worst. He's pathetic and dumb.

And Accord just has to go and get killed by him in the dumbest way! GOD DAMMIT ACCORD I SIMPED FOR YOU SO HARD!!! AND THEN YOU DIE TO CODY! OF ALL PEOPLE! YOU CAN'T BE COOL IF YOU DIE TO CODY!

Chevy too! I thought he was cool and all, but he had to die to Cody. God. The worst.

ALSO MY BABY GIRL HE TRIED TO HURT MY BABY! THE ONE WHO ISN'T MY DAUGHTER!

SOMEBODY HELP TATTLETALE!

I did like seeing more of the mechanics of the Yàngbǎn after getting hints about how they work in the Lung interlude.

The power sharing plus the power amplification is a pretty broken combo tbh. Feels like there is some pretty neat stuff that could be accomplished with that.

Fuck this man though. Simmy just had to whisper to him and just dove right in. Cody can't even conceptualize what fighting back means, that would require him to grow as a person in literally any way.

Sucks for the Behemoth fight though. I guess my daughters are going to have to save the day. Again.

[recurring-polynya]

what is the best attack in bleach and why is it la muerte

[redeemed-wren]

Thought too long about Hermoine daughter of Meneleus and Helen and got sad

[feelingthedisaster]

dont you ever write a scene and are like how am i ever going to top that?

[justaz]

okay but have we considered morgana x freya?? two women who believed themselves to be monsters, hunted by the same man and his loyal followers, cursed, doomed to death the moment someone finds them out, alone. they wish for freedom, somewhere where they can be themselves, where they dont have to hide, where they can embrace their power and who they are without fear or without harming anyone.

[hauntingblue]

Last arcane episode ever..... here we fucking go....

[rocker-socks]

not to be insane but Stephanie Brown is so underrated and i really do hate to say its misogyny but. well. It is.

[willowcrowned]

it’s actually wildly funny that amethar’s epithet came about because he was the only person in his family not horrifically murdered. imagine if every single one of your relatives got stabbed and from that point on everyone called you “johnny no-stabs." that’s amethar’s life

[denouemente]

there is something so tragic to me about rhaenyra losing everything and everyone important to her and people act surprised when she has the audacity to react to it!!