#some woman picked up meds confirmed all the info so we can give it out

[coolcoelacanth]

bruh something weird happened in the pharmacy and i feel weird and bad and uncomfortable about it

[in-tua-deep]

20 for Vanya?

20. What-ifs/Alternate Timelines

I have a lot of what-ifs and alternate timelines for Vanya lmao, especially ones that prevent the apocalypse because I’m a sucker for a happy ending tbh

What if Vanya was included? Why not? Klaus’s powers weren’t useful for missions, Allison’s story for Claire was literally like “yeah Klaus got distracted by ghosts in the background lol” so it’s not like a kid without offensive powers couldn’t do it

you have rebellious Vanya aus, where she decides, like some neglected children do, so act out. If her father isn’t going to acknowledge anything good about her, she’s going to make him acknowledge the bad. Punishment might be the only time he pays attention to her, after all.

(let’s call this an au where the pills suppress her powers but not so much her emotions)

So you have an au where she sneaks out and joins the missions. She breaks into the mausoleum and picks Klaus up and stares her father down with a challenge in her eyes. 

Five vanishes, and Vanya gets worse. She plays her violin at 2 in the morning. She refuses to eat her broccoli. she teams up with diego to see who can piss dad off the most

(her and Diego actually get along very well in this sort of au, honestly)

Vanya gets out and plays the violin and gets angry. She plays with fury and fire and gets second chair, because Helen is actually really very good. But she makes Helen work for it. Helen isn’t secure in her position, she always knows that Vanya is a step away from taking it from her

and maybe that should make them enemies, but it doesn’t. They’re rivals. Helen respects the hell out of Vanya, and Vanya can’t help but admire the woman who makes the most difficult pieces look effortless

(RIVALS TO LOVERS: VIOLIN EDITION)

Vanya writes her book. Except she kicks down Diego’s boiler room door and is like “DIEGO”

“WHAT”

“I WANT TO WRITE A BOOK ABOUT HOW MUCH DAD FUCKING SUCKS”

“I’LL BE RIGHT THERE”

as one of the rebel kids, Vanya actually got along well with Klaus as well since she helped him sneak out and 100% also smoked at least some weed with him because it would piss off Reggie tbh though she didn’t get into the harder drugs like he did

(showing up absolutely plastered to breakfast when they were sixteen was hilarious even if the laps they had to run around the block were not)

anyway Klaus crashes at her apartment sometimes, with supervision, because she loves Klaus but he has a problem and has stolen from her before but he’s still her brother but regardless

Klaus-Diego-Vanya sleepovers where they brainstorm the book to shit talk their father. Honestly it’s kind of a blast. They all get super wine drunk and end up watching Mary Poppins together with some Very Loud Opinions about nannies in general tbh

klaus throwing popcorn at the screen: BOO WHY WAS OUR CHILDHOOD NOT A MUSICAL???

diego: idk if you can have cheery musicals about child soldiers

vanya: i mean if they can have a musical about child labor in factories and the starvation of the workers in oliver twist you could do something with child superheroes

klaus: EXACTLY thank you vanya

they publish the book (luther is uNHAPPY, vanya dedicates her book to ‘all my siblings who survived the Reginald Regime but especially those who didn’t’, and she gifts Reggie a copy that says “fuck you lol” and is signed by her, diego, and klaus), they continue living, they go to the funeral when reggie kicks the bucket

and then five shows up, feral and aching

and five tells vanya about the apocalypse, and vanya thinks about their father saying time travel messed with the mind, and then she thinks - fuck the old man he was wrong about her (ordinary, fuck that, she’s Vanya Fucking Hargreeves) and he was probably wrong about Five, too

and Five is wholeheartedly believed

“Let me call Diego,” Vanya says when Five tells her about the eye, “I bet he could totally wear a police uniform and get info about the eye. And if not, I’m absolutely sure Klaus could improvise a solution. He’s good at that.”

“Klaus??” Five asks, vaguely suspicious.

“We don’t talk about the Sleepover of 2012.” Vanya intones solemnly, and refuses to answer any further questions on the topic.

Harold Jenkins comes to the apartment and tries to woo Vanya or whatever, and Vanya is kind of like... “Look, Leonard. I can be your teacher for violin. It’s my job. But I am in a relationship. And also like, super gay. If you have a problem with that then I am not the teacher for you.”

Actually scratch Diego and Klaus getting called, which they do, Vanya looks at them and her thirteen year old brother and is like “wait. actually i know someone infinitely better to crack this case wide open.”

“Who?” Five, Klaus, and Diego all ask

“My girlfriend.” Vanya says proudly, called Helen up.

And Helen walks into the building like she’s at fucking war and has such demanding confidence that they just give her the information she seeks and apologize for inconveniencing her.

“Hey Vanya are we still on for date night tomorrow?” Helen casually asks after, and Five kind of wants to be her when he grows up honestly after watching her verbally eviscerate Lance or whatever the fuck his name is

“Yeah.” Vanya confirms, “Unless there’s other apocalypse stuff to do?”

“You take all the time you need, honey.” Helen says warmly, “After all the more time you take the less you have to practice.”

“I’m gonna destroy the concert piece and you know it.” Vanya threatens.

Helen sniffs, “Okay, whatever you say second chair.”

and then they kiss and Helen ditches and the others just kind of look at Vanya judgingly

“In fairness, she’s very hot and very talented.” Vanya defends herself.

Klaus nods sagely. Vanya nods back. He gets it. 

“Concert piece?” Diego asks, because he has priorities.

“Yeah, I’ve already asked for tickets for all of you and you will be attending Diego.” Vanya smiles prettily with all her teeth.

“When is it?” Five asks

“April 1st.” Vanya tells him, “And no that isn’t an April Fools joke. You will attend and you will marvel at my skill. And maybe run interference between Helen and Allison because I’m kind of afraid they’re going to rip each others throats out to establish dominance.”

“That’s the day of the apocalypse.” Five informs her.

“Not on my goddamn watch.” Vanya says, because her family will attend her fucking concert and they will make awkward small talk with her girlfriend and the fucking apocalypse has better lay down and get over itself because nothing can stop Vanya’s goddamn plans

“I can investigate Meritech more.” Diego offers, because Lance-or-whatever-his-name-is is clearly shady as shit, “I have police contacts I could go through. Hey Vanya, your concert tickets include a plus one?”

“They can.” Vanya shrugs.

“Sweet, let me see if Patch can come.”

“She’s way too good for you, bro.”

“Shut your goddamn mouth.”

Anyway the point is they all go home, and Diego goes to talk to his police contacts and Five is definitely at home for when Hazel and Cha-Cha attack the mansion, oops. 

“Whomst the FUCK.” Vanya yells, kicking Hazel in the crotch because she’s Vanya Fucking Hargreeves she knows self defense thank you very much

“Ah.” Five says. “Hazel. How’s it going.”

“Just peachy.” Hazel wheezes, “Why’d you betray the Commission?”

“Well, you know. They cut the dental. That was really the last straw.” Five says, sarcastically.

“The dental.” Hazel echoes back, nodding very seriously, “I fucking know. You know physical therapy isn’t even covered anymore?”

“No shit?” Five says, “I mean you’d think with a job as physical as ours...”

“I know.” Hazel howls, vindicated. 

“Five.” Vanya says, rolling her eyes, “The house?”

“Oh, right.” Five frowns, looking at Hazel, “I mean. Can you like, leave? And not come back?”

“‘Fraid not.” Hazel actually sounds somewhat apologetic, “You know what the Commission is like. They’re really gunning for you.”

Five nods, because really what did he expect, “Can you leave like, temporarily? I mean you’d pretty clearly outnumbered. I don’t even know where Cha-Cha is, but judging by the furious yelling she probably met our sister and brother and Luther is hard to kill. Trust me, if he wasn’t we would have killed him when we were like, eight. But for real, can you get out of our house? I mean. Storming the den? Seriously? What kind of information did they even give you?”

“They didn’t give us any information.” Hazel responds back, sounding appropriately outraged, “They didn’t even tell us you could teleport.”

“Well that’s just rude. You’d think they wanted you dead or something.” Five muses, “But seriously, get out of my house.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.” Hazel admits, and leaves, because honestly Hazel is chill like that and knows when he’s lost. And Hazel also has a lot to think about. Like the fact that the Commission sucks and doesn’t even have dental, and how pretty the donut lady is. 

and Vanya is just like... okay. Weird. Is that going to happen again? Probably? I mean. Okay, this day has already been so goddamn weird. This week, honestly.

And they keep getting attacked by the Commission. And Vanya finds out someone broke into her apartment and stole her meds. What the fuck. 

“Did your shitty assassin friends do this?” Vanya asks, waving an empty pill bottle.

“Why would they?” Five asks, honestly confused.

“Because they’re assholes?” Vanya says, honestly outraged.

“You got me there.” Five admits.

The combined forces of Diego-and-Patch (because Patch is actually thrilled that Diego is asking for help regarding an actual fucking crime) figure out that the eyeballs are being sold illegally

Klaus is not kidnapped so he’s fine, just tagging along and living his best life, however this also means that Klaus does not steal the briefcase and Hazel and Cha-Cha are fine

Vanya keeps Five close at hand because frankly she doesn’t want him to leave again and she did really miss him. Also if she does save the world she can lord it over Helen’s head forever. 

And so Five is around when Vanya’s powers manifest, probably because they just got targeted by commission goons again because they’re trying real hard to kill five and separate Vanya

“Holy SHIT.” Five says, very intelligently, “You have POWERS.”

“Wow. Gonna have to write a fucking sequel to the shit-talking-dad book.” Vanya says, honestly a little light headed.

And then Vanya finds out her powers are sound based.

“Oh no.” Vanya says, “Where the fuck are my pills. I am not relearning how to play the violin with-powers a few days before the big concert Five, what the fuck.”

“But you need to learn to control them!” Five protests, “They’re your powers!”

“They’re a goddamn inconvenience is what they are.” Vanya states, “I mean, what am I going to do with them? Stop a bank robbery with the Umbrella Academy? Yeah, no thanks, that ship has sailed and sunk to the bottom of the ocean Titanic style. I’ll figure them out when I’m not in danger of blasting the audience halfway across the continent.”

“Yeah.” Five admits, “That’s fair.”

“Besides, if I’ve been on that shit as long as I have, and it’s been a long time, I cannot even IMAGINE what quitting cold turkey will do.” Vanya points out, very sensibly, like a siblings who has watched Klaus go through withdrawal symptoms more than once.

“Maybe there’s extra at the manor?” Five suggests, “Pogo probably knows.”

“Oh yeah I bet Pogo knows something.” Vanya mutters maybe a little bitterly.

They go back to the mansion and the Commission is honestly pulling their hair out tbh, and they ask Pogo who kind of pales and is like “UHHHH YES I CAN GET VANYA EXTRA PILLS” and goes to get them from whatever stash

“Fucking sweet.” Vanya whispers, entirely done with this situation, “The only adult male role model I had and he hid my powers from me and betrayed me. Love that for us.”

Five shrugs, “I mean, you’re right. All of our adult role models were all kinds of fucked up.”

“You vanished when we were 13.” Vanya says, “Didn’t you find like, any other adults ever?”

“Oh let me tell you about the Handler.” Five says, and proceeds to do just that. Because let’s be real, the Handler was the only human interaction Five had after forty odd years alone it was pretty damn important

Vanya, on the other hand, has strong plans to eviscerate the Handler should the two ever meet because Five deserved way better than to be forcibly made into an assassin?? honestly fuck that woman

that’s it that’s the au

Vanya finds out she has powers and is like “i have a LIFE i don’t want to interrupt it with bullshit POWERS,,, also going cold turkey off my meds seems like a bad idea if I don’t want to deal with withdrawal symptoms during my concert for fucks sake, my gf would never let me live it down if i skipped”

so vanya takes her meds, does NOT destroy the world, makes every one of her siblings go to the concert and even invites Hazel and Agnes after Hazel betrays Cha-Cha to join team No-Apocalypse. 

and then introduces them all to her girlfriend

“Holy shit Vanya.” Helen deadpans, “Your family is all kinds of fucked up.”

“I know.” Vanya says, aggrieved, “It’s been a long fucking week. Want to go camping and help me figure out my cool sound based powers? Bet they’ll make me a better violin player than you.”

“I think the fuck not.” Helen hisses, always up for a challenge, “Let’s do this. Me and my violin vs. you and your dumb baby powers. You’re on.”

“FAMILY CAMPING TRIP.” Klaus hollers, with all the enthusiasm in his little heart.

“Holy shit this is going to be such a disaster, I just know it.” Diego mutters.

“Shut up, it’ll be nice.” Allison says, elbowing Diego with her pointy pointy elbows.

“It’s going to be a shitshow.” Vanya says serenely, because it is. That’s just who their family is. 

Wouldn’t have it any other way, though

[writingamongtheroses-archive]

Showtime- Chapter 4

@andiwriteunderthemoon, @the-starlight-chills

The Strings

Liza ran through the halls of the restaurant. Her small body, too small to be hers, hurt with every step. She didn't want to be caught! Her hopes soared when she saw the door. She prepared to open it and escape into the cool night...

It slammed shut.

"No!"

She struggled with it furiously, staring at the tall figure outside. Even though their face was cast in shadow, she could see his smile. "Help me!" she screamed, blinking the blood that started to roll down her face out of her eyes. But he didn't move.

Paws grabbed her and yanked her back. Liza turned to see who it was.

The thing from the present was staring down at her. It held a controller in its hands, the strings connected to her. The controller disappeared, but the strings didn't. The thing floated closer...until something dropped over her head.

She let out a cry, trying vainly to pull it off. But her hands wouldn't move!

Xlnv orggov lmv...

"There. That's better."

-_-

Liza awoke with a gasp and the distinct feeling of being watched. Oh no, what time was it-

A hand sealed itself over her mouth, stalling her gasps for air. "Hush, Liza, you must be quiet." a voice said from above her. "We don't want to draw attention." It sounded like a young girl. But...she looked up.

The first thing she noticed was that there was a teenage girl, just sitting next to her. The second and third thing she noticed was that she wasn't sitting and she was translucent. The blonde girl was scanning the room. "I don't think they've moved yet..." She looked down and they met eyes. There was a long moment where they stared at each other before she opened her mouth. "Can you see me?"

Liza managed to nod without screaming. The girl- el fantasma- stared a moment longer before she let out a squeal. She managed to catch(?) the girl when she dove onto her, hugging Liza. "You can see me!"

The woman blinked. "Um...do I know you?"

"Nope, I died before you were born, but I've been with you for a while..." Well, that confirmed the ghost part.

"Ahem."

Liza glanced over. This time, she did scream at the sight of the present thing, just staring at her. She managed to catch her breath. "I- You're real."

"Yes, and so are you." The voice was soft and very matter-of-fact about it. It had a tinge of a Spanish accent to a voice that kinda sounded like the inside of a grandfather clock. Instead of the red chin and blue streaks, the face was painted to look more like a Calavera skull. Liza let out a yelp, jumping back. It gave a surprised jerk before leaning forward, raising a hand.

"Calm down." the ghost girl whispered in her ear. "Puppet just wants to help."

"Listen to your friend." The 'Puppet' gave her another look over. "And please, Night Guard, do refrain from shouting. You do not want to give yourself a migraine."

"I, what-" Liza sat back down, staring at the Puppet. The hard cement grounded her into reality. She wasn't dead, talking to some type of puppet in a present box, and there was a ghost girl that looked vaguely familiar. Okay. She took in a breath.

"On your tenth birthday, you suffered an accident that damaged your brain. Your brain managed to be stitched back together, but you suffer from migraines, headaches, and mood swings from the brain damage." It rattled off the info like it was reading from a book. "You take a cocktail of drugs to deal with the damage, but you are annoyed by it and try your best to ignore the damage. Foolish, but very interesting."

She stared. "I've lost my mind." Puppet and Ghost Girl exchanged looks as she managed a shaky laugh. "Yep. I've finally lost it." It gave her a rather cold look and moved to retreat into the box. "Wha- Hey!" To her surprise, it did pause. "You...you fixed my arm." Liza groaned, trying to remember everything. It would help make this entire thing less creepy. "Why?"

"You are the Night Guard."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"For now, it will do. I will aid you. Good night, Night Guard." Without another word, the Puppet disappeared into the box. The music box clicked to a stop- Liza wasn't even aware it had been playing. She stared at it.

"I think that's all you're gonna get." Ghost Girl whispered.

She nodded, checking her watch. 11:50.

It was time for her third shift.

-_-

"So...here's the office, I guess."

It had taken a bit of maneuvering to get the present box and the music box both. Liza set the present on the floor with a satisfied huff and no idea what to do next. Ghost Girl was poking around, looking at everything. "They've changed it since I was last here," she said finally, settling on a cabinet.

"And that was...?" Liza tried. After a moment of thought, she picked up the box and set it on what little space there was on the desk. She collapsed into her chair with a sigh, glancing at the box. It had been an instinct to grab the present and the music box. She still had questions for the Puppet.

"Oh, fifteen years ago."

"Huh. Alright." Liza stared at the present on the cramped desk. Who needed that many TVs? Tomorrow night, she could come in early and try to get some order out of the mess. "So, do you have a name?" She didn’t want to keep calling her Ghost Girl- it sounded rude.

"You can call me Doll."

Midnight came.

On cue, her phone rang. It was her actual phone, which made her startle. She pulled it out- 5 missing messages and one voicemail. She prayed that none were from her tio or, she shuddered at the thought, Lynn. Then she wouldn't have to worry about the animatronics.

Thankfully, none of it was from Rafael or Lynn. They were all from Mr. Calworth- why was he calling her? She played the voicemail. "Um...Miss Dorado, I just wanted to check in on you. The morning cleaning crew arrived this morning and said you were missing. Y-Your car was still parked outside. If you called for a ride, that's fine, but please inform us...give me a call when you can! Bye!" He sounded nothing like the confident man that had hired her.

"Oh my god," Liza said after a moment of silent gaping. "That cabrón thought I died!" This wasn't to check in on her, this was to cover the restaurant's ass! She immediately saved the message. By leaving the message, the restaurant was clearing any incrimination of them knowing what the hell was going on. It was like a setup. But more a 'just in case set-up' than anything else. This stroked the flames of annoyance in her- crap, had she taken her medicine?

Her thoughts immediately derailed from her expensive meds to stay alive when she checked the tablet and saw everyone had immediately left the stage. "Think they remember last night?" she asked Doll and the present. Neither answered. "That's what I thought," she said with a little nod.

It was hardly a minute later before Liza had to throw herself across the office to grab the remote and slam the east hall door on Rex. She let out a sigh of relief. "Too close." she sighed.

Of course, that was when the night decided to turn itself on its head.

"CLOSE! I'll show you close, stupid meat sack!" The voice was electronic and male and very annoyed. None of the character was taken away by its muffled tone. "Open up!" Liza gaped through the door window at Rex, the remote clattering out of her hand. "You're not playing fair!" he yelled.

"And you're not supposed to TALK!" She screeched, immediately backing up. Rex cocked his head in confusion at the answer, white and neon green fur moving with it, instead of the usual screaming. Liza backpedaled quickly, bumping into something. She nearly shot back into the office but was stopped by an lavender and orange hand. It was very large and very frightening. She bit down on the inside of her cheek to stop herself from screaming and drawing everyone else in the office.

"Kitty!" Rex whined. "Open the door on my side!" He whined until Kitty-Cat could grab the remote and open the door. It took some maneuvering but she managed, yanking Liza out of the seat and into her arms.

"Better, Rex?" she said sweetly.

"Much better!" He swaggered into the office, grinning at the squirming and screechy Liza.

Until she kicked out during her squirming, hitting him right in the chin. Rex let out a rather dog-like yelp, stumbling back and holding his chin as if he was in pain. Liza had a brief moment of satisfaction until the world turned upside down and her glasses fell off, Kitty now holding her by an ankle. "Are you okay?!" the cat asked, ignoring the human's pleas to be put down.

"Oh, you are so gonna get it-"

"Bajame-!"

"Ye didn't check Treasure Cove, landlubber, now you must-"

"Dios mío," Liza said into her hands. "Es una fiesta."

Captain Bun screeched to a stop at the sight of the group. "Aw, ye got her already!" Her ears flattened against her head. "Shame. I wanted the honors meself." She cocked her head when she noticed Rex still rubbing his jaw. "What's with ye?"

"She kicked me." he groaned, sounding very much like a grumpy teenager.

"She did, so Rex deserves the honors!" Kitty said. "Anyway, it's finders stuffers."

"Finders keepers," Liza said in English, deciding to save her energy as she dangled. "It's finders keepers."

"It's the same thing," Kitty said with a too-human shrug. Rex sniggered.

"Dios mío," Liza repeated, burying her face back in her hands. Sure, it was childish, but she deserved it, maldita sea. Heck, she would probably blow a raspberry at these cabróns before being stuffed. Because of her state of bemoaning her fate, she didn't notice Bun notice the present box.

"...Hold yer fire there, Kitpup."

"Why?!"

"What's wrong, Bun?"

Liza looked up from her hands when she felt Kitty's grip loosen. The pirate was pointing to the present box. Despite the eyes staring at it, it looked nothing more than a gift. It looked like taking it with her was a good idea.

"What? Wait, she found it?!" Kitty's voice was a tad bit higher as she dropped Liza. She let out a grunt when her head hit the floor. She grabbed her fallen glasses, shoving them on as she scrambled into her chair. She couldn't get past them to escape, so she settled for gripping the back of the chair and keeping it between her and these characters.

"It's probably a mistake like last time!" Rex said, reaching for Liza. "We'll just deal with her now and save Puppet the trouble-" He froze when the music box started to play. It was still twinkling, but the notes were sharp and warning. The dog drew back, properly chastised.

"Well..." Bun said, examining Liza with her eyes. "Ted isn't going to like this."

[crashdevlin]

Doc and Sir 1- What Are We Waiting For?

Doc and Sir Masterlist

Author’s Note: Written for @spnkinkbingo, filling my Dom!Sam square

Summary: Y/n had a crush on Sam at Stanford, but she was sure he’d never look at her because of her weight. When he walks into her ER eleven years after the fire in his apartment, he reveals she’s actually more his type than she would have thought: sweet, innocent and corruptible.

Pairing(s): Sam X Plus size!Reader

Word Count: 4382

Warnings: Dom/sub training, bondage, oral (male rec), 18+ HERE BE SEX DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!!  protected sex, fingering,

Wanna enhance your fanfic experience? Get Sam’s hydrosol from @scentsfromthebunker

When he walked into your ER, your breath caught. He was unmistakable. Dressed to kill in a dark blue suit, but under it? Sam Winchester, with the light fluffy hair and the brilliant hazel eyes and the smile that felt like sunshine. Sam Winchester, who disappeared not too long after the fire in his apartment, who obviously couldn't handle coming back to Stanford after Jessica Moore passed. Sam Winchester, who you had the biggest crush on and never knew you existed. You had three classes with him in ‘02-‘03 and you spent every class trying not to stare at him. He was never going to notice a woman like you. You had a hundred pounds on any of the women you'd seen him turning that smile on for.

“Hi, I'm looking for Dr. Y/l/n,” he said, walking up to you.

“That's me. How can I help you?” You didn't let on that you knew who he was, but you couldn't help the way your eyebrows shot up at the FBI badge he presented you.

“I'm Agent Simmons. I wanted to talk to you about a patient you saw last month and- what?” You shook your head. You didn't want to call him on it. “Wait. Y/n? Y/n y/l/n? From Stanford?”

You blinked at him several times. He knew who you were? “Yes? You remember me, Sam?”

“English II, Art History and Pre-calc, right?” He gave you that bright smile.

“Uh, yeah. You, um, change your last name when you went into the Bureau, Winchester?”

He chuckled, a bit nervously. “Um, it’s not… Winchester’s a distinctive name, so…”

“So you go by ‘Simmons’. Okay.” That still didn’t make much sense, but you’d let him lie if he kept smiling at you like that. “So, Agent Simmons, what patient did you need to talk to me about?”

Sam launched into questions about a man who’d come in with an infected dog bite on his leg. You gave him all the info you could while adhering to HIPAA regulations, but you could see that it wasn’t what he wanted to know. “Well, thank you, y/n. It was, you know, it was great to see you again. A blast from my past.”

“Yeah, you got me wanting to go grab a coffee from the Co Ho and hit the library,” you joked.

“Well, I can’t help you with that, but I could take you for coffee.”

You looked up into his bright hazel eyes, shock filling you. “What?”

“Or, you know, dinner if you’d prefer. I… I haven’t gotten to talk to anybody from The Farm in years. When’s the end of your shift?”

“Uh… I get off at eleven… a little late for dinner.”

“But not too late for coffee at the diner across the street,” he said, a hopeful tinge to his words.

“Make it a beer at the bar on the next block over and you’re on.”

“Pick you up at eleven?”

“Make it eleven-fifteen. I never get out of here on time.”

He smiled and nodded. “See you tonight, doc.” You bit your lip as you watched him walk away. He sure did get big. Those wide shoulders and thick arms barely contained in that suit… oh, what a lot of difference a decade made.

You shook your head. He was just happy to see a familiar face. There was no way he was interested in anything except nostalgia. You remembered, vividly, what Jessica Moore looked like. You remembered the tall brunette in Pre-calculus who always wore mini-skirts and the redhead you saw him making out with at a frat party the year before he met Jessica. Sam Winchester didn’t fuck with fat chicks.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“I remember, once, I was jogging the trail around Lake Lag and you were just laying in the mud with your headphones on, dead to the world.”

“I remember that!” You laughed. “It was Dead Week, man! I was out of it. I think I was running on, like, four hours of sleep over the whole week and I went for a walk to clear my head and I tripped into the lake and just… couldn’t be bothered to get out.”

“Well, you looked comfortable.” Sam pulled his beer to his lips.

“Yeah. I think I fell asleep in the mud, the dulcet tones of American Idiot in my ears.” You laughed, shaking your head. “You know, I honestly didn’t think you even knew my name, Sam. The fact that you recognized me in the mud and remembered it?”

“Of course, I knew your name. You were the smartest girl in class… in all of the classes we shared,” he said, smiling. You opened your mouth to argue with him. “You know, I always thought you didn't like me, or something.”

Your eyebrows scrunched together. “Why would you think that?”

“You never talked to me!” he exclaimed. “Not even in class discussions. You always kinda talked around me. And you glared a lot.”

“I wasn't glaring, Sam.”

“Yes, you were.”

“You’re hot. I was staring, not glaring.”

He smiled, pushing his hair behind his ears. “You shoulda said something, y/n.”

“Why? You weren't giving me a second look in a sea of sorority girls in short skirts. Brady tried to get me to talk to you a couple weeks after he dropped pre-med, but I figured he was just fucking with me.” You shrugged, not missing the fact that Sam tensed at the mention of his old best friend. “I mean, I could tell he was high when he suggested it and it wouldn't have been the first time someone set me up to fail with a hot guy just to get a laugh outta the fat chick who doesn't know her own league.”

“I didn't know you knew Brady,” he said, tightly.

“Yeah, we were both pre-med, had the same Advisors. I mean, ‘til he dropped out.” You kept it to yourself that you knew Jess, too. Better to keep the topic on something lighter. “I thought we were okay ‘til he came to me, hopped up on whatever he was taking, and said I was just your type and that I should let him set us up on a date. Knew he was an asshole after that… and of course, he went to work for big pharma after so that's a confirmation of his place in hell.”

“You have no idea,” Sam said under his breath. He put his hand up for another round of beers and licked his lips. “But he was right. You were just my type.”

“What? Every chick I ever saw you with was a stick with tits, Sam.”

He laughed, visibly relaxing. “What?!”

“Ya know, huge chest, tiny waist, long legs? The triangle body type, not the… what would call this?” You gestured at yourself. “Apple? Pear?”

“I'd call it a thick hourglass and it’s sexy as hell.” He smirked at the way your eyes went wide and looked away from his. “But I think it was more your personality type Brady was focused on, y/n.”

“W-what about my personality?”

Sam rested his gigantic hand over your denim-covered knee and smiled, but this smile didn’t feel like warm sunshine. This one was a wildfire threatening to burn you up. “Brady knew I liked sweet girls. Shy, innocent, pure ones that I could corrupt.”

You tried to swallow, but it seemed Sam’s fire had burned up every bit of moisture in you except what was leaking onto your panties, because your mouth was suddenly dry. “Sara Parsons wasn’t any of that,” you somehow managed to say with a steady voice.

Sam smirked. “I didn’t date Sara Parsons. I just let her give me a blow job at a Delta party… and she didn’t even do that well. I wasn’t gonna reward her by fucking her, let alone dating her.”

“Fucking her would’ve been a reward?” you asked, quietly.

He nodded. “And I don’t reward poor performance.”

His words made your pussy clench around nothing. It all seemed a bit kinky; talk of corrupting pure girls, sexual rewards for how well they pleasured him… but what would you know about it? You hadn’t had a boyfriend since the summer before you went off to Stanford and nothing kinky, or even remotely satisfying, happened on his Star Wars bed sheets. The guy who used you as stress relief during your residency didn’t do any better. Vanilla was too exciting of a flavor to describe your sex life thus far.

Your sex life was flour.

“You know what I like about you, doc?” You shrugged and he squeezed your knee. “Even all these years later, you’re still innocent, still sweet.”

For some reason, you weren’t offended by the assertion. Somehow, it turned you on that he saw you that way, but you had to correct him. “Wasn’t innocent at Stanford, Sam.”

“I didn’t say ‘virginal’. Common mistake, but not the same thing.” He ran his hand up from your knee to settle on your thigh and leaned closer to your ear. “You can’t even imagine all the things I wanna do to you, y/n, and that is innocence.”

You took a deep breath to calm your pounding heart rate and suddenly heavy breaths. “Tell me.” It came out a panting whisper.

He pulled back, smiling. His hazel eyes were dark with lust. “Can’t just tell you, y/n. Let me take you home and I’ll show you.”

You stood, on suddenly shaky legs, and grabbed your purse from the back of your chair. “What are we waiting for?”

~~~~~~~~~

“Are you nervous?” Sam asked as you pressed the button in the elevator that would take you to your floor.

“Kind of. Yeah,” you answered, honestly.

“Don’t worry. We’ll start soft.” Sam pulled you back against his chest, wrapping his arms around you.

“You’re not gonna hurt me, are you?”

“Not unless you want me to. I think you’d probably want to work up to that.” You nodded. “You ever given it a thought, though?”

“Pain? Yes. I’m a doctor. I think about pain a lot.”

He chuckled. “I’m talking about sex and pain, y/n. Have you ever thought about someone spanking you?”

“Not since I was a child, actively trying to avoid it.”

“Maybe next time.” He squeezed you as the elevator doors opened. You led him down the hall to your apartment and unlocked it.

You dropped your keys in the bowl on the table just inside the doorway and hung your coat and purse on the hooks on the other side of it. “You want a drink?”

Sam closed the door behind him and grabbed your hand. Your breath caught as he grabbed your face in both hands and leaned his face down to yours. You could feel his breath on your lips, but you were focused on his eyes. “What I want is for you to go to your bedroom and take off all of your clothes and lie on your bed and don’t move. Can you do that for me, y/n?” You nodded, slowly. “Good girl. You keep being good and you’ll see how I reward good girls.”

He smirked as he stepped back from you, releasing your face. You blinked at him a few times before shaking yourself out of whatever trance he put you in and turning on your heel to walk toward your bedroom. You kicked your sneakers off into the corner, pulling your t-shirt off over your head and unbuttoning your jeans. You didn’t know where Sam was, he hadn’t followed you to the bedroom. Something told you he wanted to see if you’d follow directions without eyes on you. So, you did exactly as you were told. You stripped to your skin, lied on your bed, crossed your legs and placed your hands, with your fingers entwined, over your stomach… and you waited.

As minutes ticked by, your anticipation grew, a knot twisting in your stomach. When Sam walked in, you wanted to look at him, but you didn’t. He said not to move. “Damn. Look at you.” He approached the bed and put his hand on your ankle. “You know how hot you look, y/n?” He ran his hand up your leg, his touch feather-light, twisting his fingers to skim along the inside of your thigh, but skipping over the place you wanted him to touch. His fingertips drew circles around your nipple and you couldn’t hold in the gasp, immediately stiffening about the noise. “I want to hear you, y/n. I never said to be quiet, did I?”

“No.”

His face went stern. “I want you to call me ‘sir’. Can you do that, y/n?”

“Yes, sir,” you whispered. At least he didn’t want you to call him ‘Daddy’... but you probably would if he requested it.

“Good girl.” His hand continued its trek up your body, dipping along your collarbone and wrapping very lightly around your neck. His hand was so large that only the part of your neck in contact with the pillow was kept from contact with his palm. You whined, flushing at the thought that he could easily choke you out with one hand. Sam smirked down at you. “We’ll come back to that.”

His thumb swept across your jawline and up to your lips. “Open,” he commanded and your jaw dropped immediately. He pushed his thumb into your mouth and you stuck your tongue out to lick tentatively at the pad of his thumb. You were rewarded with a groan, which emboldened you to close your lips around his digit and suck lightly. You watched his eyes close as you continued sucking and laving your tongue across his thumb. It filled you with pride. “Y/n…” He pulled away and stepped back, hands going to his belt buckle. “On your knees, sweetheart.”

He pointed to the carpet at his feet and you rolled off of your mattress. You crawled the few feet to the area he indicated and looked up at him. He seemed even taller from that position. He moved slowly as he undid his belt, each motion exaggerated and overblown, slow and torturous. He popped the button and dragged the zipper down. “You know how to earn your reward, don’t you, y/n?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tell me.”

“I have to give you a blow job better than Sara Parsons gave you, sir.”

He chuckled. “That’s not hard, sweetheart. No, I think that you need to aim a bit higher than just better than Sara. You need to suck my cock like your life depends on it.” You swallowed and nodded. “Say it. Say ‘Yes, sir, I’ll suck your cock like my life depends on it’.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll suck your cock like my life depends on it.”

“Good girl.” He smiled as he dragged his jeans and boxers down his thighs. Your eyes went wide when his cock bounced free. No wonder Sara had trouble, it was huge. You licked your lips and leaned forward, your mouth watering a little. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

You wrapped your hand around the base and opened your mouth, giving the head a kitten lick. He hissed through his teeth and you ran your tongue along the thick vein on the underside. You took him in your mouth, analyzing how every motion made him react as the head slid across your tongue toward the back of your throat. You stopped short of gagging yourself, wrapped your lips around the velvet skin and pulled back. You bobbed your head a few times, taking him just to the brink of your limits and pulling back to the head, before you surged forward, taking in as much as you could, past your gag reflex kicking in, until the head was nestled in your throat.

His hands both came to grasp at your head, holding you in place for several seconds. He pulled back long enough to let you breathe before thrusting back into your throat. “Fuck! You are…” He grunted, low in chest, as he twisted his hands in your hair. You could tell he was holding back the desire to tug, but he didn’t hold back fucking your throat. Once you got his rhythm down, timing your breaths and swallowing when he was in your throat, you started running your fist up and down the base of him that wouldn’t fit in your mouth, the mucus-thick saliva from your esophagus a perfect lubricant for your touch.

He almost growled as he pulled back, pushing your head away from him. You looked up at him, panting breaths making your whole body sway. “W-was that… was it good… sir?”

“You did so good, baby. Go ahead and untie my boots.” You leaned forward and did as he told you, untying and loosening his bootlaces. “Now stand up and take my shirt off.” Your legs were numb from being down on your knees for so long, but you jumped up to your feet and eagerly started to unbutton his flannel. You bit your lip as you revealed his tanned, muscular chest and you whimpered when his abs showed themselves. You ran your hands up and pushed the fabric off of his shoulders and he let it slide down his arms to drop to the floor behind him.

He stepped out of his boots and jeans and quickly toed his socks off before reaching out and wrapping his right hand around the back of your neck, yanking you forward. You braced yourself by grabbing his forearm as he spun the two of you around and walked you toward your bed. “I’m going to tie you to your headboard, y/n. You’ve been a good girl and you’re going to get your reward, but you’re going to be restrained, understand me?”

You nodded, excitedly, the thought of being completely at Sam's mercy sending shockwaves through your body. “Yes, sir.”

Sam smirked. “Looks like someone likes the thought of being completely powerless.” He pushed you to the bed and stepped toward your closet. “The Intro Psych class I took makes me say it’s a control issue. You spend all day with people’s lives in your hands, having to be in complete control of yourself and everything happening around you, so there must be something intoxicating about just letting it all go, right?”

“Wouldn’t know, sir. Never get to let it go.”

Sam plucked a scarf from a hanger and pulled it taut, testing its strength. When it passed his test, he turned around. “Lie down, hands above your head.” You did as you were told, pressing your hands together like you were praying. He ran his finger along the seam where your palms touched and smirked. “Good girl. Didn’t even have to tell you.”

You smiled. “I’ve seen a few movies.” He raised an eyebrow. “Sorry. I’ve seen some movies, sir.”

He ran the scarf under and around your wrists, twisting and tightening the bind. “What kind of movies, y/n? You like watching other women get tied up?” You nodded. Being tied up had always appealed to you, even before you had people’s lives in your hands, you just hadn’t ever been able to indulge the fantasy. “So, you like being powerless, but you don’t want to be hurt. We’ll have to work on that, y/n, because I would love to mark you up.” He ran the bind up to your headboard and tied it tightly, yanking to make sure it was secure.

He looked down at you, smiling that wildfire smile again that sent a shiver up your spine, and placed his hands on your collarbone. “Ligature marks…” He started to run his hands down your body. “And handprints…” He took your breast in his hands and rolled them against his palms, making you whimper. “And bite marks…” He lightly tweaked your nipples before moving on. “Bruises on your thighs, or maybe on your neck.”

His left hand dipped between your legs and you eagerly spread your thighs. You moaned loudly when the tips of his fingers rubbed down your slit. “Fuck, you are so wet, y/n. Is this from being tied up, or is it from choking on my cock?” You started to answer, but he slipped his thick middle finger in your pussy so all that came out was a strangled moan. Sam gave an airy chuckle as he started to pump the finger in and out of you. “Come on. Answer me, y/n. What’s got you so slick, baby?”

“You, sir. Everything about you.”

He smiled and added a second finger. “You’re so responsive. It’s gonna be so easy to make you cum.” You whined and he flicked his thumb across your clit, making your body jerk. “But I don’t want you to cum, yet. I want to see how long you can hold it back. Can you do that? Can you hold it back?”

You bit your lip. You hadn’t ever tried to stop an orgasm. That was the point of sex, even solo, wasn’t it? “I-I don’t know, b-but I’ll try, sir.”

“Good girl.” He added a third finger and scissored them open, preparing you to take his massive cock. “Do you have any condoms or do I have to dig one out of my jacket?”

“Yes, sir. Side table, buried in the back.” He kept his fingers inside of you as he leaned his long body over to jerk the drawer open and shove his hand past your lotions and errant jewelry and many, many pens to pull out a strand of condoms. He ripped the top one off, threw the others on top of the side table, then pulled the condom open with his teeth. He curled his fingers against your inner walls, dragging them along that special patch as he pulled them out. He took his time rolling the condom up his shaft, making you squirm in anticipation. “Please, Sa- sir. Please.”

He smirked and knelt down between your legs, pushing your knees wide and running the tip of his cock from your clit to your entrance. “I know you don’t want pain, baby, but this next part’s gonna hurt. No avoiding it.”

He wasn’t lying. Even with him preparing you, even with how wet you were and a lubricated condom, the way he stretched your pussy was painful… but you liked it. Even after he gave you time to get used to it, it hurt… until he started to roll his hips. There was no pain once his cock started the push and pull, just pleasure. He moved slowly at first, leaning back to watch himself disappear into your pussy, but it wasn’t long before he was draped over your body, fucking into you with abandon.

“I-I can’t… sir, please, I… I can’t… I’m gonna…” you babbled, tugging at the scarf, feeling a need to touch him.

“Don’t,” he grunted into your ear.

“But I… I can’t…”

“Yes. You can. Just a little longer, baby.” You closed your eyes tight and tried to take deep breaths but every time he thrust into you, he pushed the breath from your lungs in a loud moan.

“Fuck, please, please, please, please…” He slammed his hips forward, making you scream as his cockhead rammed against your cervix, before pulling back to do it again.

“Now. Cum.”

Your vision behind your eyelids filled with multicolored stars, your body going rigid as the most powerful orgasm of your life spread like fire through your nerves. Sam must’ve been right on edge, too, because the fluttering of your vaginal walls made him groan and spill his cum into the condom. You rolled your eyes as you tried to get your eyelids to cooperate, trying to look at Sam as he sat up and pulled out of you. The condom was quickly discarded and the scarf released from the headboard with a deft flick of his fingers.

Sam flopped to the bed next to you, both of you panting heavily and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. “So… am I allowed to call you ‘Sam’ again?” you asked, looking at him from the corner of your eye.

His chuckle shook the bed. “Yeah. I'll tell you when I wanna hear ‘sir’ again.” He turned on his side and took your wrist in his hand. “You okay?”

You nodded. You were more than okay. You felt great. Amazing sex, with your university crush who happened to have become this Adonis in the interim? ‘Okay’ was definitely not a strong enough word for it. “I should’ve talked to you… in college, I should’ve talked to you. I shouldn’t have shut Brady down so quick.”

“You have a thing about your weight. It’s understandable… and Brady was… an evil prick. And it was good for you that you shot him down.” He dropped your wrist and buried his fingers in your hair. “If you had talked to me, I probably would’ve fallen for you and you would have been the one in that fire. So… for you and everyone whose lives you’ve saved since you’ve been a doctor, it’s better you didn’t.”

“Sam…” You trailed off as you looked into his eyes. Thinking about Jessica had filled them with sadness.

“You’re still my type, doc.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours, his fingertips gripping your scalp tightly. You rested your hands on his chest and leaned into it, opening your mouth to let him snake his tongue in.

“How long are you in town?” you whispered when he pulled away from the kiss.

“I'm not sure.”

“Can we do this again before you leave?”

Sam smiled. “What do you work tomorrow?”

“I'm off… on call, but off.”

“Lucky us. Me, too. We can do this again all day tomorrow. Assuming you don't get called in.”

You chuckled, pressing your lips to his before snuggling into his chest. “Someday, you’ll have to tell me what you really do for a living, Sam, because… I know a fake badge when I see one.”

He ran his fingers through your hair and pulled your bed sheet over your bodies. “Always were the smartest girl in the class, doc.”

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[supergirl-imagines]

Lena Luthor/you fic part 8

“Y/N, wake up.  Your doctor is here.”

Your eyes open to the sound of Lena’s voice and her hand on your shoulder.  She’s standing at your bedside, still in the clothes she had fallen asleep in, and a man in a white coat stands beside her.  You do your best to straighten up and not look like your entire body is screaming at you to stop moving.

“Y/N, I’m Dr. Russel and I performed your surgery.  How are you feeling this morning?” he introduced himself as he checked the stats blinking on your bedside monitor.

“I’m fine, thanks,” you replied quickly.  Lena, Dr. Russel, and the nurse at the foot of your bed did not look convinced.

“You know, your recovery will go a lot faster if you tell us the truth.”

Lena put a hand on your arm reassuringly and looked between you and your doctor.  

“I mean, my leg hurts, and my head.  And my side,” you admitted.  

“Are you feeling any nausea?”

“No, not really.”

“Alright, follow my light—“ he pulled a penlight out of his pocket and shined it back and forth in front of your eyes, “—okay, I’m noticing a little delay in your left pupil, but considering the trauma to your skull, that is to be expected.”

“You said there wouldn’t be permanent damage,” Lena’s eyes narrowed at the man.

“Once her concussion passes, everything should return to normal.  We’ll keep an eye on it just in case,” he replied calmly.  Lena bristled, but accepted his reply with a nod.

“Can you wiggle your toes for me?” Dr. Russel continued with his examination and flipped your blanket up over your feet.  A slight twinge of pain shot through the bottom half of your leg, but you were able to follow his request.  Apparently satisfied, he turned your blanket back down and scribbled something on his chart.

“We’re going to fit you with a boot before you leave the hospital.  Have you used crutches before?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “so I won’t need a cast?”

“As long as you keep weight off of it, your leg should be stable enough in a brace.  You’ll need to wear it for at least four weeks.  I’ll have one of my RN’s come in to change the dressing on your stitches as soon as I can.  Do you—“ the doctor caught Lena’s eye and immediately corrected himself, “—either of you have any questions?”

“Yeah, when can I get out of here?”

“With head injuries as severe as yours, we like to keep patients under observation for at least three days.”

“Are you sure that’s long enough?” Lena’s voice was laced with skepticism, but the doctor smiled and nodded nevertheless.

“Yes, I��m quite sure.  Anything else?”

“No, thank you, we’re fine,” you answered before Lena could question anything else and Dr. Russel handed your chart to the nurse.  Once she finished asking you about your pain levels and checked your vitals, the two of you were left alone once again.

“You know that guy is a doctor, right?”

“Yes, I’m just…I want to make sure he’s being thorough,” Lena replied.  “You can’t blame me for being concerned.”

“You look exhausted, Lena.  Why don’t you go home and get some rest?”

In an attempt to divert the attention from yourself, you made the suggestion lightly and watched her brow furrow in concern.  

“Do…do you not want me here?”

“No,” you tried to sit up and then grunted in pain, “I didn’t mean it like that.  I just…I know what you look like when you’re tired and…you’re tired.  I’m not going anywhere, but that doesn’t mean you can’t.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind?  I could use a shower and a change of clothes…”

“I’m fine, Lena.”

“If you’re certain…” Lena let her voice trail off, giving you another chance to change your mind, and then finally picked her purse up off of the chair she had moved to when the doctor entered.  “I’ll be back soon.”

As she turned and walked towards the doorway, you opened your mouth to speak and then lost your nerve.  Lena disappeared out into the hallway and you stared up at the fluorescent light above your bed, a little upset at yourself for not being able to say what you wanted to.  It almost seemed stupid to let her walk out without saying that you loved her, considering how many times you had stared at the cement walls of the room you were held in and wished you could tell her those exact words.  But, some stupid, insecure part of yourself kept you from doing it.  And, somewhere in the back of your mind, you could still see the condescending amusement on Lillian’s face.

—————————————————————————————

You had just dozed off with a fresh wave of pain meds from your IV when the sound of footsteps roused you.  Your eyes flashed open to see a vaguely familiar blonde enter the room, accompanied by a woman in dark blue scrubs.

“Hi Y/N, I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m Kara Danvers.  I’ve visited Lena at work a few times?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, in a bit of a daze, and squinted at her.  After a few seconds, the realization dawned on you and you continued to stare as she took a seat in the chair beside your bed.  All you had to do was imagine her without her glasses, and you could see it.  She had saved you.  Kara was Supergirl.

“I need to change your bandaging, honey.  Is it alright with your friend here?” the nurse asked, breaking your focus on Kara.  You nodded somewhat absently and allowed her to pull up your hospital gown to expose your abdomen.  As she removed the copious amount of bandages from your skin and you couldn’t help but wince at the sight of your bruised and stitched flesh.  There was no way that the scars wouldn’t last.

“So,” you looked away as the RN went to work and returned your gaze to your visitor, “what are you doing here?”

“Well, I came to check up on Lena but…”

“Yeah, she went home to grab a shower and some new clothes,” you filled her in.  “You guys are close?”

“You could say that,” the blonde confirmed.  Something about her demeanor told you that she had another reason for being there, but she wouldn’t say it with the third person in the room.  “How are you feeling?”

“Could be better,” you attempted to make light of the situation, but the blonde didn’t seem that amused.  Before you could try anything else, the nurse swabbed your incisions with cold antiseptic and all the air shot out of your lungs.  In an attempt to keep your composure, you gripped the sheets below you and clenched your teeth as hard as you could without cracking them.

“Sorry, dear—” the nurse gave you a sympathetic glance and began taping gauze over the stitches, “—but it’s better than an infection.”

“Thank you,” you whispered; still short of breath.  Less than a minute later, the woman rolled your hospital gown back down and you pulled your blanket up.  

“Just holler if you need anything else,” she excused herself, leaving you alone with the disguised superhero, and you took as deep of a breath as your ribs would allow.

“You saved me.  Thank you.”

“Lillian Luthor hired you to spy on her daughter,” Kara stated bluntly.  You dropped your gaze to your hand and pursed your lips.  

“Yeah.”

“I’m not here to threaten you, or tell you that you got what you deserved, because I don’t believe that.  I want to believe that you’re a good person because of how much Lena seems to care about you.  Just…prove me right, please.”

“Kara, I love Lena.  I would do anything for her.”

God, why is it so easy to tell her this and not Lena?

“Good,” Kara dropped the slight threat in her voice and you felt yourself relax slightly.  

“What about Lillian?  Is she still…out there?”

“Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that,” Kara straightened her glasses and hesitated before continuing.  “Some of the best government agents are tracking her down, but the two men she hired are both in jail.  So, until she’s found, some agents are going to be tailing you and Lena.  I promise, you won’t even be able to tell that they’re there.”

“So, I shouldn’t do anything illegal for a while?”

Kara didn’t seem to look too amused and you sighed.

“It was a joke.  I’m serious about Lena, Kara.”

“I hope you are, because I know what you did before this.  Your info wasn’t that hard to find when you have access to government records.  I know what you’re running from and you better not use Lena to try to compensate for it.  She deserves better than that.”

“I know she does,” your voice almost shook and you grabbed for the button connected to your IV pump.  After a few clicks, the guilt-spurred knot in your stomach loosened and you found yourself able to look at Kara again.  “Thank you; for caring about her and for saving me, even if I didn’t deserve it.”

“Everyone deserves to be saved, Y/N.  It’s what you do after that matters—“ Kara turned towards the window suddenly, having heard something that you didn’t, and practically leapt up from her chair.  “I need to go.  Get well soon.”

In a blur of color, the blonde disappeared and you were once again left alone to your own devices.  Soon enough, the morphine in your system made it’s way to your head and you were able to slip back to sleep.

——————————————————————————————————-

Lena made it back up to your room a little over an hour later and, having not been sleeping too restfully, you woke up to the sound of her heels on the tile floor.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” she asked and sat down beside the bed.  

“No,” you lied and attempted to blink the drowsiness from your eyes.  Lena had put herself together, make-up and all, and seeing her in her usual state of dress relaxed your for some reason.

“Y/N, should we talk about what happened?”

Lena bit her bottom lip and took your hand.  

“What is there to talk about?”

“I just…I don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk to me about what happened to you?”

“Why would you want to hear about it?” you lowered your voice, uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken.  You had based your career off of not having to talk about your past.  You could make whatever you needed to up, as long as you were careful.  

“I’m sorry if this is upsetting,” Lena began to rub the back of your hand with her thumb as she spoke and you bit the inside of your cheek.  “I just can’t not feel like what happened to you was my fault.”

“It wasn’t.”

“Just talk to me anyway,” Lena pleaded.  You looked over to the window, willing yourself not to push her away.  “D-did they touch you, Y/N?”

“What?” you snapped your head back towards her and then winced at the way it made your head throb.  “No, no.  They didn’t…do that.”

“I’m sorry, I just needed to ask.  You were gone for five days and I couldn’t stop thinking about what they might be doing to you.”  Lena’s voice trembled and you watched her glance up at the ceiling like she always did when her emotions began to get the best of her.  It made your heart ache to see her like that.

“Lena, it’s alright,” you said quietly.  “What happened w-was bad, but I’m okay.  You’re okay.  Can’t we just move past this?”

“Of course; I want that too,” she agreed.

“You know,” you changed the subject as smoothly as you could, “your friend Kara stopped by.  You never told me you were so close with Supergirl.”  

“I knew you’d figure it out,” she chuckled lightly and the smile that crossed her features made the corners of your mouth turn upwards as well.  

“She really cares about you,” you noted.  “She’s also very protective.”

“Oh God, what did she say?”

“Just that she knows about, you know, me.  But, she seems like a really good friend.  I’m glad you have her.  She’s, um, very super.”

“I’m glad you didn’t lose your sense of humor,” Lena laughed again and you felt a familiar pang in your stomach.  Suddenly, you found yourself very anxious to leave the hospital and move on.  You didn’t want to think about Lillian, or the stitches in your torso, or the fact that she was still out there, probably plotting a way to get to either you or Lena.  You just wanted to move past this.  

With Lena.

[wingsoverbros]

“Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets - I’ve got some reassurances” or “My thoughts on SPN 12.10″

For previous episodes: 12.01 - 12.02 - 12.03 - 12.04 - 12.05 - 12.06 - 12.07 - 12.08 - 12.09

Now, on to Supernatural 12.10 - " Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets"

(The above men are not one of her regrets, luckily. They wouldn’t be mine either.)

In the hiatus between season 11 and 12, we got news that many of our favorite writers from SPN, both established and new, were leaving to pursue other opportunities. Andrew Dabb, the new show-runner, began cherry-picking his new crop of writers and the fans that looked into them reported that they looked promising. That was helpful, but we still waited nervously to see how they would fair. We've now covered almost half the season and most of the writers have gotten around 2 episodes each, give or take, and I must say that Steve Yockey is in the front-running for my new favorite writer.

It's a tall order, as my favorites have been (in turn) Ben Edlund and Robbie Thompson, and both left some mighty big shoes to fill. However, Yockey is doing a phenomenal job at writing well-balanced episodes with plenty of story and an excellent grasp of both new and established characters. I look forward to any additional stories he writes with anticipation. He can share the “Oh, he’s writing it? Goody!” reaction I often get when I hear of Robert Berens writing an episode (he’s my other favorite).

I loved how much new and confirmed info we got in this episode. I'd wondered in the past why Cas automatically assumed Samandiriel was dead in season 8, and considering that Crowley was first shown using an Angel blade that season, wondered if perhaps the blades had some form of identifying mark on them. How do they ensure that each angel gets his own blade back after fights? Maybe their names written in enochian on the hilt? However it's marked, this episode confirmed that an angel can identify a blade's owner from the knife itself. I also enjoyed the fact that there at least 2 angels in the episode shown in vessels that ran counter to their stated pronoun. Any angel that's able to befriend a human and attempts to do anything in its power to protect that friend is n angel that goes on my "good guy" list, and I'm actually sad that we didn't get to see more of Benjamin than we saw in the episode. Considering how sad his death made Cas, he must have been at least a half-ways decent guy.

I liked that we got to see what an angel summoning entails. Frankly, I always just thought it was a simple matter of them just talking like normal, so the fact that they have to activate it via a ritual was interesting. It makes sense, though. You don't want to accidentally just start chattering over Angel Radio without meaning to. I also just figured a battalion of angels were simply called "a battalion", and angels in a group were simply called "a choir". So, how does it go, then? From lowest to highest: A Flight, A Garrison, A Choir, The Host? (Do you think we can someday get a graph? And for that matter, what titles are used for groups of Demons? I'd like to see both info-graphics.)

Some unanswered questions remain, though. For a highly-controlled, militaristic society, Heaven seems incredibly permissive and rather porous. Angels weren't supposed to be on Earth for 2000 years, but any old angel could come down to Earth and hang out without attracting attention? Besides Gabriel, we now have documented cases of Ishim, Akobel, Anna, and Uriel (in “The Song remains the Same”). The last one was quickly intercepted by Michael, but how many others came down and slummed around without the rest of them realizing it? And how many of them pair up with other beings in a friendly or romantic relationship? It seems to be a fair number. Besides Lily and her friend and Cas and the Winchesters, we've also seen Gabriel and Kali (romantic), Abner and his vessel's wife (although she didn't know, so this one is slightly dubious), and Jane's parents (at least sexual, if nothing else). Daniel and Adina in season 10 also gave me a "romantic involvement" vibe.

This does point towards Jane's parent possibly being an unknown lower-level angel, and considering that none of the 1900s group questioned the identification of the child in the episode as human, that angels can't automatically detect the creation of a lower-level angel nephilim.

When we first received spoilers that the episode would involve scenes of Castiel from the past, fans peculated on many various possibilities, from scenes that fit within past episodes involving long-gone angels (I'm still sad there wasn't any Gabriel in the scenes like a lot of people hoped for) to shots of Cas in previous vessels. What we got was not anything like what I expected in the early days, but I loved what we got. Most of the speculation was of Cas in a Novak ancestor that looked like Jimmy, but Yockey decided to give the viewers an unexpected surprise by having Cas in a female vessel. I have to admit it, I squealed. She looked perfect, down to the "sunday best" dress and trenchcoat-like jacket. And although he's been in Jimmy for far longer then any other vessel, duration-wise, now it's canon that Cas has been in female vessels more often then male ones. I can't wait to see the resulting fanfic.

Seeing how cold and focused 1900's Cas was really put a focus on how much Cas has changed in the last 8 years, too. Exposure the the Winchesters has worn off so much of his soldier exterior, his other-worldliness. Although I believe that to be (mostly) to his benefit, I can see why so many of the other angels would look at Cas as different, no longer completely an angel. For a species that lives for billions of years, unchanging and static, the sight of someone just like them changing so dramatically in such a short time is bound to be incredibly disturbing. And it's not just Cas, it's all the angels that come in long-term contact with humans (think about it. Anna? Gabe? Balthazar? Gadreel? Metatron? Daniel and Adina? Not to mention the rogues that we haven't been told about, since angels could apparently come to earth at will even before the Apocalypse started. All dramatically and irreversibly changed by contact with humanity that lasted even for only lasted a short time). No wonder they view humanity as incredibly corrosive. I wonder what Ishim was like before he came in contact with (and obsessed by) Lily. He had to have some sort of good point, unless "good soldier" Cas was just blind to all faults originally. (I wonder too if Naomi's monkeying with his mind ever caused him to overlook bad behavior in other angels?)

One change I did really appreciate a well was that Cas seems to have regained his ability to defend himself when Dean goes a bit overboard. I always prefer the Cas that has a bit of self-esteem to the Cas who is utterly depressed. Cas (usually) has good reasons for what he does, and he deserves the right and ability to defend himself from the sarcasm and arguments that usually ensue whenever Dean doesn't agree with what happened. I also found it amusing that he seems to now be using a nearly identical response to the situation as Dean does, all snarky sarcasm and the silent treatment. With Cas and Dean engaged in mutual "Sam, tell *fill in the blank here* to pass the coffee..." sessions and snark fights, I can only really feel sorry for poor Sam, caught in the middle of a fighting couple in tight quarters. We should probably start a fund to get Sam a survival pack: a stress ball, anti-heartburn meds, a good set of headphones, and a trip someplace beachy for a week. He looked like he needed it this episode.

I do love that even 1900 Cas was snarky, btw. Season 4 Cas being a smartass to Uriel in that deleted scene from "Heaven and Hell" is still one of my all-time favorite clips from Supernatural.

(Side note: Misha's been Cas for 8 years. Nearly a decade. He was initially hired for just 3 episodes. Let that sink in for a moment... ok, moving on.)

Dean has been a snarky passive-aggressive guy all season. Normally, this would annoy me, but as it seems to be how he reacts to both Mary and Cas both, I'm willing to go with it. He used a few funny lines, and I appreciate that he actually explained to Cas at the end of the episode why he was being so grumpy about what happened to Billie in "First Blood". I can take one of my favorites being snotty at my top favorite, as long as it's addressed and at least worked on in the episode. The fact that the snarky responses towards Cas went on the back burner as soon as someone else started being a twerp to Cas also helped. It gave Dean's responses in the episode a protective "no one can snark at him but me" vibe. Cas is clearly family to Dean, no matter what anyone around them says.

I was not expecting to find the supposed villain of the piece so relatable . Lily was stated in the press release as a woman who practiced black magic and was out to slaughter Cas, so I expected to find her to be a fairly stock villain character. That was so not what we got. (And who writes the press releases, anyway? The release and the episode barely resembled each other.)

In "In Memory of Asa Fox", Yockey's previous episode, he was able to write both established and brand-new female characters with skill. He handled Mary, Jody and Billie with an expert hand, each being quite recognizable and perfectly in character. Likewise, his new characters (of both genders) were lovely beings that I look forward to seeing again, especially the Twins. (I loved that they were in "First Blood". I wonder if they'll be anywhere in the rest of the season as well.) Lily is not one I wish to see again, but that's solely due to the whole "return if you decide you have to kill me" thing. If she would give up the revenge thing, a century-old expert in all things angel would be a welcome addition to the new chapter of the American Men of Letters.

I liked that Lily was part of a story-line featuring a human and angel partnership that was intentionally undefined. They never definitively stated (that I caught) whether she and her angel bodyguard were involved or not, just that a jealous angel was spreading the rumor that they were and had done things against the rules. Angels seem to have been a rather gossipy bunch for ages. I wonder what the commentary around the angel cooler was about Dean and Cas over the years. Considering the commentary about Sam and Dean by Zachariah in season 5 and the "You *always* choose the Winchesters" bit from the angels in "Form and Void" last year, you know the commentary by the rest of them had to run the gamut from "the mud-monkeys are using Castiel like a tool and the moron is dumb enough to not see it" to "Oh, they're just buddies" to "I think they may have started sleeping together the minute they met". We know there's stories, several angels have already said (like Ambriel in "Devil in the Details” of season 11.)

Random observations:

I laughed at the fact that Benji was playing Rampage. It makes sense that a 1000 foot tall being constructed to fight and destroy evil (or whatever they label evil) would enjoy a game featuring enormous monsters that destroy buildings. Bet he liked "Wreck-it Ralph", too.

Ishim played "teenage hunter trio" Krissy's dad a few seasons back. They're recycling actors faster then normal.

Letting a human live after slaughtering everyone they love is anything but a mercy. It was that, before anything Lily said, that told me who the true villain was in the episode.

I liked that even as a bad-ass pre-season 4 soldier angel, Cas still flinched when the human child was killed. Even as a robot, Cas favored humanity.

I enjoyed the mentions of Uriel and Balthazar. (I miss Bal.)

Dean refused to banish Ishim because it might hurt Cas if he got booted. This is a considerable improvement to the banishments in season 5 and season 7. Dean deserves a cookie for this character growth. (or a beer. Whatever works.)

For the final minute of the episode, and the Winchester Family Angel Pep Talk, Sam also deserves a cookie (Dean can have a second one. For the pep talk and the "Cas is our family" comment.)

With his second episode being of such high quality, Steve Yockey has managed to take the lead for my position of best writer on SPN. His ability to both create great new characters, manage the development of our favorite existing characters, and tell entertaining and fast-paced stories gives me hope in the continuation of SPN as a entertaining show to watch. I hope he stays a while, and I can't wait to see where he and the show goes from here.