#The first time I read it this gifset came to mind with these exact scenes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

witchqueenofthemoon · 6 years ago

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BODY AND SOUL Part 28 (Duncan Shepherd/Mackenzie Stone Millory AU)

BODY AND SOUL MASTERPOST

Author’s Note: I am really proud of and happy with this part; I cried like four times while I edited it. While I’m writing I can never really tell how my stuff is turning out; only reading over it later do I get a real feel for it, and this one made me feel some BIG emotions, which is always the goal with Duckenzie. As for the details, as usual: There are basically an infinite number of combinations of food you can put in tinfoil dinners; here’s 30 examples. The fire pit enclosure is built like this (but with brick instead of gravel), the copper pit itself looks sort of like this, but embedded in the pit. Obviously, both Duncan and Kenzie manifest Pyrokinesis in this part. In my AU, neither Kenzie nor Duncan are as powerful as their Michael/Mallory selves, as I mentioned before (more about that later); and Duncan’s right, Kenzie is more powerful than he is, and she always will be. ROCK A LITTLE is MY favorite of Stevie’s solo albums, so I made it Kenzie’s favorite, naturally. It’s wildly underrated in my eyes, an album with very strong feminine energy, and an incredible album to dance to (like Stevie, I think of Kenzie as always dancing). TALK TO ME is one of my favorite Stevie songs, period; it’s about the connection you have with someone when you can see who they really are, the assurance sent out that you love them unconditionally; of course it fits Duckenzie, because their love for each other is absolute. I also wanted to play on the idea of them needing to talk to each other out loud versus being able to really hear each other--that is, feel what the other is feeling--without words.The sound system built into the stone path is something like this. I cut Duncan’s dream off before Michael’s snow goes evil--I wanted the moments after they wake up from the dreams to be happy and sexy, but he will find out about his Michael!otherself soon enough, just as Kenzie will learn of her Mallory!otherself...very, very soon, in fact. I realized after I wrote this part that @spellman made a gifset awhile back featuring both of the scenes Duncan and Kenzie dream about, which is so perfect, here. I also really realized consciously for the first time that while Michael’s hair is blonde and Mallory’s chestnut-brown, my Kenzie’s is chestnut-blonde and Duncan’s is a russet-brown, which is sort of a lovely dichotomy between the two universes (I live for shit like that). Don’t worry, Kenzie’s going to get a ring (my dream ring asdhdjdgsh), but i wanted her initial acceptance of Duncan’s proposal to be more organic, and I’m so happy with it here--Duncan is ostensibly offering himself rather than anything material in that moment, which was SO important to me. Can’t wait to write the scene where Duncan calls Madeline Momby to her face for the first time. Soon. The next part is Big Cosmic Vibes and I can’t wait for everyone to read it. As ever, your asks, comments, likes, edits and reblogs mean everything to me.

Kenzie ran up the stairs towards the bedroom, heart hammering. What is that place. That place surrounded by black oaks, growing impossibly close together, so quietly, with no wind? Like a doorway. Like that hidden door that flew open for us when we met. It’s one of those places. There was one on that balcony that night; the roses, the solitude, the quiet beauty of that evening. That was a thin place too. I see that now. Duncan and I were meant to meet each other that way, in that thin place; to see each other. To recognize each other.

Because--what. We’re fucking Soulmates. I think that’s what it means. I don’t know. But I think so.

Kenzie pitched herself down to her suitcase, tossing it sideways, unzipping it in the fading light of the bedroom. The window was still open--the coming night was drifting in, tossing the tiny flowers in her hair. Kenzie thought of how Duncan had appeared in the doorway that afternoon; after he’d fucked her so passionately on the silken softness of this vast bed, left the loving marks of his attention on her--you have magic in you that you’ve only begun to discover, Duncan Shepherd. Together we are going to do something incredible, something we can’t see the exact shape of yet, but when we’re together I can feel the magic growing, like a tree that took root in the center of my body, and now it’s shooting up and its leaves are reaching through my arms and my throat and around my heart and filling my mind with their gold and every part of me is tingling with it, it’s like the way I feel when we fuck, it’s so beautiful and intense I can’t breathe. It’s the rightness of it that moves me so much. It’s the exact right thing. You, and the energy that is being stirred up between us. It’s our destiny.

She wrapped the grey cardigan around her shoulders and pulled out Duncan’s Brooks Brothers’ cardigan after it--for him. Let him wear it tonight, wrapped in the scent of me now, as once it smelled like him so much, comforting me when I told Momby I loved him. The tender way he wrapped it around me after that first night--I saw the promise in his eyes. Even then, I knew. We both did.

Kenzie stood and gathered Duncan’s discarded shirt from its pile beside the bed, then flipped the slender copper standing lamp beside the door on before she left--it illuminated Cupid and Psyche in its rich glow. Kenzie stared at it, bathed in the soft light; her eyes drifted over the flowers in Cupid’s hair, sweet alyssum, a crown for a prince of beauty. My prince. Maybe someday we can hang this picture somewhere in the garden house.

Kenzie suddenly felt like crying. Fuck. I love him so much. Oh, Kenzie Lou. You must have really paid your dues in another life. Just be grateful for every minute, every second with him. Watch the wondrous way the light is kindling up in his soul. It’s so beautiful I could just die.

Kenzie started at the stop of the stairs, then stopped.

I wonder if I can do that. What Duncan did. Appear somewhere else.

She gathered the cardigan and Duncan’s shirt in her arms against her chest, tightly--then Kenzie closed her eyes, biting into her lip. The deck. I want to be on the deck. For a moment, there was nothing--the silence extended, nothing moved, there was no sound in the house but the whispering rattle of the summer wind upstairs through the open window; the softest calling of a loon out on the lake, far off.

And then, she shifted. And she felt the wind on her cheeks distinctly, could feel the change in the air; the richness of all the scents of nature. Kenzie opened her eyes. Duncan was coming through the deck door from inside, the fireside cooking kit under his arm, a long box of tinfoil atop it, and in his other hand a carefully-balanced serving plate of the cold chicken seasoned with lemon pepper, red chili pepper and garlic, raw carrots and celery and some of the little sweet peppers, also tossed in the seasoning and olive oil--Kenzie could see them glistening in the low light.

“Baby. I did it. I just did it.” Kenzie hopped on the heels of her sneakers, overcome; she clapped her hands and rushed to him, carefully gripping the bottom of the plate, setting it on the deck’s round wooden table. Duncan stared down at her, puzzled for a moment, then a dawning expression of understanding came into his eyes.

“You appeared down here. You moved. Like I can. Fuck.”

“Dunny. I bet you can do things I do, too. Try it. Try moving something.”

Duncan blew air out of his nose, set down the other things he was holding. “Okay.” He closed his eyes for a moment, held his palm out flat towards the serving tray. For a moment, one of the carrots shivered, then rolled; back and forth, as if pushed by a particularly strong gust of wind. Then as Kenzie’s eyes focused on it, it shot into Duncan’s palm, leaving a trail of olive oil along his skin. Duncan grinned at her, his blue eyes lifting up in the shadows that had begun to gather around them, flashing almost white; then he laughed in amazed wonder, throwing the carrot into his mouth and crunching it with a triumphant immediacy, and Kenzie hopped on her heels again, laughing with abandon, too.

“This is fucking amazing,” he whispered as he swallowed. His hair was wind-tossed, his expression achingly sincere; his eyes seemed to be an indigo sky with drifting, shadowed clouds. Kenzie ran to him and threw her arms around him; she could feel the goosebumps that covered him now, and immediately unfolded his shirt in her hands, pulling it around him--he slipped his arms through, his expression full of aching affection for her.

“And now it smells like me,” she added, gently holding out the black cardigan as Duncan worked at the shirt’s buttons. He took it from her, almost reverently, pulled his arms through it and as Kenzie watched, heart aching, he brought the sleeves up to his nose, closing his eyes.

“It really does. Since I can’t really fit into any of your other clothes, this is the next best thing.” He gathered her against him. Kenzie, my sweet little firefly. We can do magic. Can you feel that? The air is vibrating because of us. It’s coming from us. Kenzie buried her face in the softness of his shirt, gripping onto the edges of the cardigan, lost in the feeling of him; you’re so much bigger than me, my sweet Dunny, you’re so warm, you could be my blanket at night, my coat in the winter. You are. You’re my shelter from everything. And here are the tears again; tears forever and ever. I don’t think I’ll ever stop crying again.

“Kenzie, cry as long as you want to.” Duncan’s lips were at her ear, the night wind drifting as the sun began its final descent below the horizon. “You can always cry with me, baby. I love you. I’ll kiss every fucking tear.”

The fairy lights along the deck had come on, and there seemed to be a hundred of them, in dipping echelons all along the sides of the surrounding fence, lifting up to the lintels. Kenzie noticed tiny lamps, embedded in the ground along the sides of the stone path, for the first time; they extended all the way to the dock and encircled the gazebo. Duncan must have set the timer, Kenzie thought, and more tears leaked from her eyes. Baby, you’re so thoughtful. You remember all the little things I say even when I don’t realize you’re listening. Duncan didn’t speak, but she felt the drift of his reply: everything you say I hold close to my heart. I wish I could memorize all of it--I wish I could tattoo your sweet voice onto my skin. It’s heaven to listen to you and I feel blessed that you would chose me to be the one to hear the things you say.

Kenzie looked up from the halo of his arms, past his earnest, dark-sky eyes, her gaze drawn up in shock--with a little gasp she realized the stars were coming out in earnest now, their cascade immediate, overwhelming, and deeply clear already. Nothing hindered the sky here; Duncan had been right. None of the haziness of neon lights to impede nature’s opulent display of cosmic wonders; a billion pricks of light were bursting in heaven, each one with a story so vast and infinite, Kenzie knew, it was enough to make one sob. She bit into her lip, pressing her cheek into his warmth again, closing her eyes; fuck, baby, that’s too fucking beautiful, I can’t stand it. She felt his cheek fall against the top of her head, and his arms held her so tightly they seemed to be crushing the breath from her lungs, but she didn’t care, no, no, to be inside his arms this way was the sweetest of all things, and she wanted it to go on forever. The thought of him letting go of her now made her want to wail like she was a little girl, bereft from the loss of Momby holding her. Her tears began to wet the front of Duncan’s shirt--she tried to lean back, upset to sodden it, but he shook his cheek against her.

“It doesn’t matter, baby, it doesn’t matter--I love you, I love you--”

Kenzie sniffled, letting out a shuddering breath, breathing the deep jasmine of his clothing into her; then she murmured “I’m hungry, baby, and I want music.”

“Mhmm, Princess Kenzie.” Duncan leaned his face down to her, kissing her wet cheeks, her mouth with tiny, tickling, pecking kisses--soon Kenzie was laughing through her tears, unable to contemplate anything but the sweetness of his touch now. Her stomach rumbled; Duncan gently let go of her and turned back to the dinner supplies.

“In the corner there, baby, you’ll see there’s a stereo setup.” Duncan nodded to the left side of the sliding door that led back into the cabin as he began to pull out two long sheets of the tinfoil. “Put something on. You’ll see. There’re hidden speakers all along the path,” Duncan said, “--and some in the gazebo, too. The music will echo everywhere. You can even hear it out on the lake for a little ways.”

“I should have known you’d know how to make tinfoil dinners without me telling you,” Kenzie shook her head, stepping away from him to where outdoor stereo system was protected under an awning that seemed to have been built specifically for it--she pressed a round power button and a menu came up on the interface with endless options; Sirius XM, Spotify, Pandora, and a digital library of over 100,000 songs. “Never met a rich boy who could cook like you. Then again--I didn’t meet many rich boys before you. Not my crowd.”

“I’m the only good one. Most rich people are terrible. Take it from someone who’s been around them their entire life.”

“That’s exactly the sort of thing a rich boy would say, Mr. Shepherd.” She turned back to him, sticking her tongue out, wrinkling her nose. Duncan had a laugh playing around his mouth now, glancing between her and his work as he arranged their dinners carefully on the foil sheets, the cold chicken in the centers surrounded by the vegetables, wrapping up the edges, making two foil lids to place atop them. She went back to the stereo, opening Spotify, searching for a specific album.

“But you actually are good, baby,” she said, over her shoulder. “You’re so good it makes me want to scream, honestly--and the fact that you aren’t hiding it anymore is something you should be proud of. I remember this one interview I saw of yours on TV last year--oh god, this is funny to think about now, baby--but you were so stoic in it, I thought, god, he’s so fucking handsome, but he seems so cold. Well. Duncan Malcolm Shepherd: you’re a big faker.”

She looked back at him, smiling, playful. She could see the blush on his cheeks in the glow of the fairy lights, the admission on his face. You’re right, of course, baby.

“Guilty. I am. Or, well, I was. I was good at it, too.”

“I saw through you, right away. I never would have gone home with you otherwise.”

“I couldn’t believe it when you said you would. I was so fucking nervous, Kenz. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything as much as I wanted you. The minute I fucking laid my eyes on you. It was like being slapped in the face. My heart just--fucking stopped. Like I--I recognized you. Like I knew it was you.” Duncan was wiping his hands on a cloth napkin he’d tucked under the serving tray as Kenzie hit PLAY.

“This is my favorite of Stevie’s solo albums.” Kenzie came over to him, sitting at one of the deck chairs, its spindly finely-wrought metal reminding her of a throne. Duncan was taking the fireside cooking kit out of its box; he leaned over her to kiss her, and she lifted her hands up to this cheeks, holding him against her for a moment. I can’t wait...the first line echoed into an electronic wind-up--it rang out over the stone path and seemed to skim across the lakeshore, dancing off onto the serene surface of the water. Now that I love you…the riff of an electric guitar bled out, flitting away from them on the deck, down the lights, through the trees, and Kenzie rattled her head from side to side with the music, grinning now. Duncan dipped away from her, laughing at her. Love you love you love you--she could hear him humming against her mind, could feel the sincerity of him, like a mantra whispered into her ear.

“I’m gonna go get some wine,” she said, hopping up. He nodded, the portable stove-top under one arm, their wrapped dinners on the serving tray in the other. “Get that sauvignon blanc, baby--I think you’ll love that one.”

“It’s nice to have my own private sommelier,” Kenzie drolled, blowing a kiss towards him. Duncan made an overdramatic gesture of ardency, as though he’d been smacked in the chest with cupid’s arrow, pretending as though he were about to faint. Kenzie laughed delightedly. I love it when you’re like this with me. No walls up, unafraid, unworried. Just happy. She hopped up from the chair, watching him over her shoulder as he stepped carefully down to the fire pit on the brick inlet at the bottom of the stairs, admiring the curls at the back of his hair, the wideness of his shoulders, the smooth skin at the nape of his neck.

Kenzie felt compelled to look above her again, at the radiant tapestry she knew was coming out there (the stars the stars galaxies the universe our universe, so vast in itself, so infinite), but forced herself on inside, through the sliding door at the ground level, to the side of the deck, closer to the kitchen. Soon we’ll lay under them and I’ll look for hours. I want to savor it. I want to wait a little bit longer before I really drink it in. I feel so overwhelmed--just getting to be alone together like this is a dream I never want to wake up from.

Kenzie moved through the side-room here, styled similarly to the front room; this alcove had several bookshelves, the books therein all of a similar, nature-oriented slant (she spotted Jack London and Henry David Thoreau as she walked past them), and another standing statue--this one was Artemis, her starry bow distinct, her hair tied back, a hound traipsing at her bare feet. Child of the moon; her only lover, Kenzie thought. To run always in the sweet embrace of the night--a night like this, but one that never ends. She could hear the music drifting in from the deck, Stevie’s distinct wail melting around her (well she dances around in circles, she’s got that feeling now)--the kitchen was half-lit by two identical, tiny lanterns that hung over the windows that looked out on the forest. Kenzie went to the picnic basket, now resting on the counter--Duncan had emptied it of their lunch and cleaned it--and pulled out two of the wine glasses, grasping one of the wine bottles that lined the lower shelf of the fridge (that sauvignon blanc--Duncan really does have excellent taste when it comes to wine, I’ve loved everything he’s picked out). She hesitated at the window, opening the wine with the bottle opener strapped to the top of the basket, looking out to where the dark pines dipped down. Her mind reached out to that circle of black oaks she knew lay just beyond. The gateway to another world.

She shivered, then made her way back outside.

The sharp smell of smoke on hickory hit her nose as she pulled the sliding door open with her elbow--Kenzie started with excitement as her eyes fell on the fire that now roared beyond the deck, its brilliant titian-white flaring up into the darkness. She could see Duncan standing to the side, illuminated in the light of it. He was staring down into it, standing beside the coppery basin of the firepit, his hand on his chin--he took her breath away for a moment, his expression serious and far-away, his blue eyes reflecting the licking flames with an eerie, ethereal beauty. There was something about him, silhouetted in the flames that way, that made her pause--stilled the excitement that had bubbled up in her, pressed strange apprehension into the corners of her mind--then it passed, as a vague dream, and Kenzie made her way down the steps, the wine and glasses in her hands.

“Shit, Dunny, you sure got that going fast,” she murmured, holding one of the glasses out to him. His eyes skirted to her--only then did Kenzie see the strange expression in them closely, the depth of his disbelief, his confusion. For a moment, they were both silent--the only sounds were the crackling fire, and Stevie’s soft voice--

No explanations and I tell you no...you say...nothing...that is how songs are written, stories are told, rumors are started...

“Kenzie.”

“Fuck, what is it, Duncan? What’s wrong?”

“I--the fire. I think I...I don’t know how I started the fire. I was piling the hickory in the pit and sort of, I dunno--thinking about the fire? I was thinking about it, imagining it. And then there was a fire. It was just--there. Kenz. It was just fucking there, flaring up like I’d doused the wood in gasoline and lit a match. Only I didn’t. All I did was think about fire.”

“Are you telling me you started the fire with your mind, Duncan?”

“Yes. Kenzie. Yes.”

Kenzie cupped her hand under his, which held the wine glass she’d handed him, limply. She dipped the bottle down into the rim, pouring until the glass was entirely full. Then she did the same for her own glass, setting the bottle on the round brick-lined slab of the pit’s outer enclosure.

“I wanna try.”

Kenzie clinked her glass against his--as Duncan watched her, that confusion still in his fire-lit eyes, she gulped at the wine, draining it halfway. Then, Kenzie turned to where the portable cooking stove was sitting beside the pit, still unlit in Duncan’s distraction. She knelt down in front of it.

Fire, she thought, gathering the warmth she felt on her back from the pit, the flickering orange dancing at the corners of her vision. Fire. She imagined pulling elements out of the air--carbon dioxide, oxygen, nitrogen--whirling them together, combining them.

Then, the little stove was lit; she could see the blue flicker of the flame burst up from the element at the bottom, could feel its little wave of heat spurt out towards her hands.

“Fuck.” She looked up at Duncan, whose fingers were pressed on his lips now, his eyes intense on her--a smile broke across his face, his grin kindling her heart up like the flames. As she watched he drank deeply from the wine she’d poured him--knew he felt in need of its heady courage, drifting in confusion.

“Holy shit, baby.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “We can--we can make fire.”

Kenzie stood, noticing her legs were shaking. What else can we do. What other wonders, my love. How far does this magick go? She stood facing him for a long moment--the rich scent of the fire was flushing down her senses, its flickering heat drifting her hair back around her face. She could see the white glow behind his eyes, the power that was hovering inside him in this space, beside the fire he had made. And Kenzie knew, with certainty, that it was because of her that this fire had woken inside him. Knew that it was her light that had brought him to life this way. And the deepest joy filled her, like the sunrise, like the dawn bursting over a cool horizon, dancing over a field caked in dew, warming the earth and everything it could reach--spreading itself infinitely, selflessly, without reserve. That’s how I feel towards you, beloved. I could give endlessly, and never grow tired; the more I give to you, the more I have to give.

Duncan rushed against her--she heard the pattering arc of his wine spilling onto the stones, sizzling droplets hitting the blazing fire. His lips fell into her hair, against her forehead, onto the space under her eye, the dip below her ear. She knew he could feel her; knew she didn’t have to speak, that he didn’t want to either, just wanted to bask in the glow of their extraordinary fire with her. You can talk to me, talk to me, you can talk to me, you can set your secrets free, baby--

“I wanna dance with you.” She was grinning into the sweet-smelling skin of his neck, straining up to him, his arms gathering her fiercely into him. “I love this song so much.”

Duncan laughed, pulling away from her. She could see the glittering tears, the fire reflecting them like diamonds in his eyes. He was shaking his head. “I don’t dance, baby--.”

“Oh yes, you fucking do!” Kenzie gripped the edges of his shirt, pulling his mouth down to her, lost in the woodsy scent along the prickly hairs there, smiling against him, beginning to sway, dipping her head back and forth. “How are we gonna get married if you won’t dance with me at our wedding?”

Duncan groaned at that, his longing absolute; she watched his face shift from embarrassment into one of absolute surrender. You got me. His body relaxed again from its momentary tension; the fire popped, a flare of brilliant orange flitting skyward, and he began to sway with her, leaning his forehead down onto hers as she gripped his collar possessively.

“Here it’s only us,” she whispered into the bridge of his nose. “There’s nobody else in the whole world, baby, just us, just me and you and this magick, this night--”

“Kenzie, Kenzie, my Kenzie…” Duncan murmured her name over and over, swaying against her, his face shifting, his lips falling down to speak against her mouth. The blue fire of you is so strong tonight, Duncan, beloved--it envelops me, fills the corners of my mind, the secret spaces of my body, the very center of my soul, but it doesn’t devour, no--it makes me greater. Inside your love this way, I am more whole. I am more myself than I ever thought possible. She leaned away from him, clutching his hands so he was supporting her weight as her head fell back, feeling her hair cascade down to brush along the soreness at her back, the memory of his devotions--Kenzie’s chin turned up to the stars again, finally. I’m ready now, baby. I can look now that I’m holding you. Her eyes opened--the multitude was there, as she knew it would be, and the sun was gone. In its absence, the infinite expanse of the hidden myriad; the unseen world. The cosmic tide.

Oh, let the walls burn down, set your secrets free, you can break their bounds, cause you're safe with me, you can lose your doubt, cause you'll find no danger here

She was gasping with it--the feeling of his hands, the absolute devastation of the stars above them. Who knew there were so many stars in this universe. I never really knew until this moment. They seemed impossibly bright and distinct, and she was shaken with them--had known she would be. They seemed to stare at her, at Duncan, at the fire they had birthed out of the ether; the stars seemed to know her, know them, and bless them. Those stars seemed to know and confirm what Kenzie knew in her heart to be true. Our destiny: to be together.

“I know,” he whispered. “There’s nothing like it. Nothing.” The fire popped again--the scent of burning hickory drifted up anew to them. Kenzie could hear the sizzling vibration of their dinners inside the stove’s rounded pot, forcing her eyes down from the heavens, her stomach rumbling again. Duncan was pulling away from her, reluctant but with purpose, draining his wine glass. “I’m gonna go get the blankets, baby. Let’s bring our dinner into the field. Let’s eat under the stars. The fire’ll be fine until we get back. It’s a strong fire--I--I know it is. I made it. I can feel it. How strong it is. It’ll last until morning.”

Kenzie felt her heart pounding in her throat--the certainty and strength in his gaze was so beautiful she felt faint with it. She nodded. He smiled (the smile of an angel) and stepped away from her, full of purpose. Kenzie drank her wine off as she waited for him, turning back to the fire, gazing deeply into it.

Pyrokinesis, that’s what they call it, she thought. The ability to create and manipulate fire with the mind. So we can move things, move ourselves, and create fire. I can heal people’s minds with soothing calm if I concentrate, if I will my healing gold--my energy--into them. And I invoke something in people now, too. Devotion. Trust. Goodwill. I always did, I think, but...now it’s stronger than ever. Now it’s something I can see immediately. And I think Duncan’s becoming that way too, as the light of our love really seeps into him, really touches his soul. The shadow in him will always be there, because it’s as essential a part of him as his deep goodness. The shadow is the outward self for him, the light the self within. For me, the light is outward, and the shadow within. Together we create something infinitely powerful.

Duncan was coming back, the picnic blanket tucked under one arm, two of the thick quilts under the other; his expression one of earnest happiness that clenched at her heart. Kenzie lifted the lid of the little cooking pot with a cloth napkin, a plume of steam rising up as she did, and knew their dinner was done. She placed the sizzling foil wraps on the serving tray with a pair of tongs; she dipped down to the burner underneath, hesitating for a moment, then, concentrated, drifted her fingers against the element, closing her eyes. When she opened them again, the fire had burned away--sucked back into the air, back into the energy it had occupied before. Thank you, she thought, sending her gratitude out into the night. Thank you for your gift.

“Wow,” Duncan breathed, watching her, eyes wide. “That was so beautiful, Kenz. That was so delicate and lovely. Everything you do is so lovely--the way you do this...this magic. It’s like you’re creating tiny worlds with your hands.”

Kenzie picked the tray up with both hands, smiling shyly at him. “It sort of feels like that, honestly. A tiny movement but with a huge, intricate thing inside it. It’s sort of like that.”

“I can see it. When you do it. Yours is more powerful than mine. Mine is clumsier, I have to concentrate for longer. Yours is...it’s so graceful. It’s an innate part of you. I think mine is stronger when you’re near me. When you’re away, it’s much smaller.”

“You’re in luck. I’m not going anywhere, Duncan Shepherd.”

“Baby,” he breathed, leaning down, eyes closing, brushing his mouth with aching tenderness against hers. She longed to touch his hands, but their hands were full--to the stars, the stars, her heart was pleading.

“Let’s go, baby, show me,” she whispered, and he nodded, stepping away, looking back to her. Come on, Kenzie Lou. This way.

------

They’d stepped off the path, away from the illumination of the house with its strings of fairy lights, the lamps lining the stone walkway. Here there was the outline of the forest to their left, and ahead, a thinner line of trees that she could in see beyond, see the dip of a slope, the skyline ahead, the slightest residue of night-kissed clouds drifting here, soon to dissipate. She could see the halo of Duncan’s curls, the dark slant of his back in the black cardigan, almost like a long cloak in this light, his towering height and the mounds of the blankets under his arms. He cocked his head back, his face shrouded in shadow but his eyes sharp azure, brimming with a titillating innocence here, in the balmy night, in the warm grasses, away from the clear path but knowing all the same. Kenzie felt faint with the surety she felt from him--knew how deeply he had hoped to show her this, whatever it was, knew how he had longed to, waited for this moment.

“The slope is a little bit sharp here, baby, so be careful, go slow,” he said, and she followed him through the thin line of trees, their whispering leaves brushing against her hair, as if they longed to kiss her. Kenzie’s eyes were adjusting to the dark now, and she could see the tiny bursting glow of fireflies drifting through the grass, along the treeline--she looked up and saw that the slope fell down in a slant of longer grasses, half-grown with early summer, and then drifted out to a field that extended for a hundred yards ahead, the forest surrounding on all sides. She felt sure the road lay somewhere far off into the distance to her right, but it wasn’t visible from this vantage, and they seemed to be utterly cut off from the modern world. Inside this vision before her, there was nothing but the open grass, the dark trees, the night in its full, fallen glory, and Duncan.

She followed him down the slope, eyes on her feet to keep herself steady on the incline, hands carefully gripping the corners of the tray, its deep heat soothing. Duncan looked back at her again, and she met his gaze, drifting out to him. Can’t wait to hold you soon. I’m gonna hold you under the stars and never let go. The slope ended and they were treading into the grasses now; into the center of the field. There were more fireflies here, but there was a surprising lack of other bugs--one of the fireflies drifted onto Kenzie’s hand and she looked down at it affectionately--hello, little one--its pulsing light crawling up her arm for a moment, then drifting away again out into the air.

Duncan stopped where the grasses seemed to dissipate, there was a flat circle of short grass here that almost seemed man-made, though Kenzie knew, somehow, that it wasn’t--the grass here just grows this way, she thought, certain. It’s always been this way. Duncan laid the picnic blanket down and then gathered the quilts atop it, then turned to her and grasped the tray. Kenzie smiled at him, sitting, gathering one of the quilts around her shoulders, and Duncan set the tray between them, settling down beside her.

“Kenzie. Look up.” Duncan’s hands reached out to her, gripping her fingers, steadying her. I’m here with you, Kenzie, my love. Then he drifted his head up, his adam’s apple dipping, his mouth opening a little, his eyes shining with impossible brightness (my love, she thought, your beauty is infinite, like these stars, I love you so much and when I die I’ll be reborn to find you again, I know it, I know, Duncan, I’m not afraid), and Kenzie did the same--lifted her eyes to heaven.

The stars were so distinct, so gloriously bright, so effulgent they seemed to burn her eyes. To try to contemplate all of them was like trying to sift out unique grains of sand from a desert; there are simply too many, too much--there’s too much, like the way I feel inside your love, there’s just too much, I can’t describe it, I can only feel it, Kenzie thought, her breath sighing out in a shivering gasp. She felt Duncan’s hands clutch her fingers more tightly, felt him lean closer to her to comfort her, the warmth and the scent of him drawing near.

“That’s the Summer Triangle,” she was whispering, her voice aching in the vast, illuminated shadows. His affection for her in this secret place felt like he was touching her on every part of her skin, and she felt tears on her cheeks again--it doesn’t matter, with him I can always cry. “Lyra, Cignus, and Aquila.” Kenzie pointed up, dipping her finger eastward to an area where the clusters of stars seemed their brightest; one star in particular pulsed in almost the exact center of the sky, its brilliance like a beacon shining down on them.

“What’s the bright one, there,” Duncan asked, his achingly beautiful hand drifting up to the centermost star. She glanced down at him again; Duncan’s eyes seemed illuminated with white once more, like balls of strange, lapis-tinted fire. His gaze was heavenward, the wind blowing his curls across his temple, into the blue nebula of his eyes; he reminded her again of a pious saint, the beautiful visage of some fresco of an angel in a holy temple; my beloved, you’re what the poets speak of, what the painters of the ages have sought to capture with their brushes and their paints and their hands. I chose you. I choose you--tonight, and for every day to come. And I, too, am infinitely blessed.

“It’s Vega.” Kenzie brought her lips against the stubble on his chin--she felt Duncan turn his face down to her, his nose, then his lips brushing against her forehead with urgency, his hand coming up to hold her steady against him. Stay here, Kenzie, let me feel you in the sweet star-kissed darkness. “It’s one of the brightest stars in the sky, especially this time of year. It’s not that far away, at least, compared to most stars--only 25 light-years--then again, one light-year is over 5 trillion miles.” She grinned at him in the starry shadows; knew he could see her smile when his very white, straight teeth flashed back at her.

“God, we didn’t even need to bring that stargazing book, I guess it doesn’t matter that we forgot to bring it out here with us. I should have guessed you knew so much about the cosmos--everything you own has stars and moons on it.” His hands drifted down her arms, and Kenzie shivered, the bliss of this moment encompassing her.

“I don’t know that much--I mean, look at all of them,” and she blushed as his gaze stayed, steady, on her instead. “Look baby, look.” She pressed his chin up--Duncan’s eyes skirted to heaven, then back to her as if drawn by an invisible current. “There are so many. It would take my whole life to learn about all of them.”

“You look like that painting--Star of Heaven. The one I took the picture of you leaning on. Your hair is glowing, Kenz. Like it’s full of stars.”

“Let’s eat, baby,” Kenzie said, lost to any other reply, trembling under the weight of the emotion she felt here, in this place, with him, the fireflies drifting in languid arcs of bursting light, the sky awash with incalculable wonders. He was nodding, but his hand was drifting through the waves of her hair, as if tethered there, unable to break away.

“Eat your dinner, Duncan. Do as I say.”

“Yes, Princess Kenzie.” His hand drifted away, but Kenzie could see the reluctance on his cheeks in the bluish shadow--the moon was still corn-husk bright, but it was surrounded by wisps of cloud that seemed to swirl around it, and it alone--the rest of the sky was almost shockingly sharp and bright under the wide, open space of the field here, to a degree Kenzie simply couldn’t make sense of. Like all the other magick around us lately, I’m going to just accept it, and bask in its wonders.

They both unwrapped the foil at the same time--a plume of smoke drifted up from each, and Kenzie couldn’t help but wriggle with excitement again at the wonderful scent that rose from them. She stabbed into the tender chicken with her fork, bringing it up to her lips, blowing eagerly, then popping it, hot and juicy, into her mouth.

“Ugh. It’s perfect, Duncan. Everything is perfect.” Their hands came together again, feeling desperately for each other.

“Kenzie. Today, in the woods--in that circle of oaks. Did you feel like--I dunno. Did you feel like we were in another place? It felt like we weren’t even on earth anymore. It felt like we went to another world. Did you feel that way? And I was calling you those strange names, but I don’t know where I heard them, or if I was imagining them, making them up, but...I don’t think so. I don’t think I was. I just--I don’t understand--the fire and--”

“Shhh, Dunny. I don’t know either. But I’m not afraid. I think--I think something is nearly here. It’s so close, can’t you feel it?” Kenzie set her fork down; drifted the very tips of her fingers down his palm, opened to her on his knee. Duncan looked up, as if the sky was less overwhelming than her eyes in this moment, less overwhelming than the strange wonders they’d experienced today.

“Yes, baby. I feel it.”

“We just have to--we just need to be patient for a little bit longer, I think. I think soon we’re going to understand things a lot better. Really soon. I just have this feeling, as if we’re standing in front of the next door on the path, and our hand is on the knob, and we’re about to turn it--”

“--And there’s just this little bit of time between the us and the door opening,” Duncan finished. “Yeah. Yes, baby. Yes. Okay.” He leaned down to his dinner, then, and she could feel the blue of his mind soothing, calming, settling down to indigo tranquility. They were both quiet then--they ate in a sweet silence that Kenzie cherished.

A little time passed--Duncan pushed his dinner away, his foil empty, and laid down on his back on the picnic blanket, one of the quilts under his head. Kenzie felt full and deliriously happy; Duncan pulled eagerly at her hand and she leaned down to him, pulling the other quilt over their legs, tucking her head down into the crook of his arm, breathing deeply at the smell of him--sweet jasmine, sharp cedar, the rain on a spring day in a green forest. Kenzie could feel something nagging at the blue patina of his thoughts again; something he was fighting to find words for, something that seemed vast and deep. Something from the woods. Something about those oaks all growing together, and the flowers in their swirling pattern. And my gold--the healing press of me against him now. The way I can soothe him so utterly, the way he knows it’s not just how much he loves me, or how much I love him, but an ability that I have. The magic that is mine and mine alone.

For awhile they laid there in the quiet, staring at heaven. Its dome of brilliant stars seemed almost unreal--simply too great, too imperceptible--and their thoughts were unclear to each other; his hand drifted through her hair, and Kenzie pressed her lips on the softness of his shirt under his breast. The moon drifted out from a cloud, then dipped behind another. Vega shimmered from the center of the sky--it seemed to look down directly on them, watchful, protective.

“Kenzie,” she heard his whisper, so soft she almost thought she’d imagined it.

“Yes? What is it, Duncan?” Somehow Kenzie knew that the thing he was going to say was going to shake her. Suddenly she was afraid--there was an immensity to this moment, a swooping, dropping sensation in her body. She tried to move her arms more tightly around him. Brace yourself, Kenzie Lou. This is the beginning of the revelations.

“In that circle in the woods....in the middle of everything. I had a realization. It was like...in that place, I could see everything about life more clearly. Everything about us, and the world, and the way it’s--it’s tied so loosely. I could see that we were in a--what did you call it--a thin place. Like we were close to other things. And I saw you...differently.”

“What do you mean, differently?” Kenzie brought her head up to look at him, her chin still resting on his chest. A firefly drifted past his russety curls, glowing faintly, then fading out.

“I mean--I saw what you really are.”

Kenzie smirked at him, despite the nervousness she felt fluttering in the center of her body.

“What am I? The Creature from the Black Lagoon?”

He grinned at her, twisting a lock of her hair around his hand, his gold bracelet glinting for a moment. You haven’t been wearing a watch lately, Kenzie thought. It’s like time doesn’t really matter anymore when we’re together, isn’t it, baby. It’s like that.

“Kenzie.” His expression softened; Kenzie could barely stand the emotion inside his gaze now. The blue center of a soft, drifting star. How I love your eyes, Duncan.

“Kenzie,” he said again. “You’re…”

She heard the thought before he spoke it. An angel. “An angel.”

“Baby, you always say that. You always call me that.”

“Kenz, no--I don’t mean like that. I mean you’re--I saw you. The real you. The you you were before this life, before this world, or...something. It was that place. Inside it, I could see things that are usually hidden. And I feel like you did too. Did you? Did you see anything? Anything...differently? Did you see me differently?”

Kenzie’s breath caught in her chest; her eyes drifted away from him, overwhelmed, into the stars, overwhelmed again inside them; she sighed, the breath trembling through her.

“I--I think--”

Fuck. I think I did. I think it was like a flash of lightning in a dark sky--there for a moment, then gone, but the outline of it still burned into my retinas. Like the dreams, I remember the outline, but not the details. I don’t know if it’s possible to remember the details. I think it might be too much to really see. Too great.

“I think so,” she whispered. “But I can’t describe--I can’t find the words...I remember the flowers around your head turned to gold. A gold so soft and beautiful it was like they were still alive--golden flowers, baby. And in my mind I thought...some kind of name. Like those names you called me. Sword of the Evening Star. That’s what it was. That was what I called you, in my mind. Like someone had whispered it into my ear. Sword of the Evening Star. How lovely is that.”

“I called you Angel of the Hidden Sphere,” Duncan’s hands soothed along her arm, down the crook of her waist. “And I don’t know what that means--I don’t know what the Hidden Sphere is--but Kenzie--listen to me. You were something else once. Something more than human. I guess I don’t know what else to call it. Mackenzie. You were an angel.”

Kenzie felt tears gathering along the edges of her eyes.

“An angel? Baby, what are you saying? I don’t…”

His lips drifted down against her forehead. His scent enveloped her; the soothing blue aura that always surrounded him was trenchant, completely whole, utterly certain.

“I know it’s unbelievable,” he was whispering against her, his voice steady, unshaking. “But just think about all the unbelievable things that have happened to us lately. We both made fire just by thinking about it. I moved across the entire house in the blink of an eye. You’ve been moving things across the room just by looking at them. You can heal people’s hearts just by touching them, just by willing it. I knew where you were last night because I felt you. When I realized Annette isn’t my real mother, you felt my sadness over miles, baby. All of that should be impossible in the world we used to know. But now that we’re together, there are extraordinary things in this world--real things, Kenz--that exist despite all doubt, and we’re starting to see them. And that’s what I saw. I saw that you were--that you are, that you always will be--a divine being.”

Oh, goddess. Oh, Duncan.

Kenzie felt the tears begin to course down her cheeks, dampening Duncan’s shirt--soaking into him. She began to sob quietly against him; I don’t understand--but I do. What you’re saying, oh, Duncan--I feel that it’s true. I can’t believe it, I can’t comprehend it, but I know it’s true. I don’t know what it means, I don’t know what the past was, or what the future is--but I know you’re right I know I was what you say. I know she’s inside me, still hidden, still waiting. Little parts of her peek out sometimes, when someone needs help, when I feel a love so deep for you it wants to tear me apart. But the wholeness of her is beyond this world.

“Oh, baby, oh, Dunny, oh my god, oh--” Kenzie found that she couldn’t stop now; her sobs rose, crashed against him, tears drifting in a steady stream against him now, soaking him. She brought her hand against her eyes, could feel her mouth crumpled into an involuntary frown, her heart overwhelmed with an immensity of knowledge that threatened to rip her in two. Duncan turned into her, his arms tightly around her, cradling her face inside his grasp, his cheek in her hair, his mouth speaking soothing sounds to her ear.

“Shhhh, baby, shhhh, angel, my angel, shhhhh, everything’s okay, everything’s fine, I’m here, I love you, shhhhhh...”

Kenzie could hear the slow, steady march of his heartbeat--could feel the tiny rhythmic burst of it against her cheek pressed to his body. Even inside this, even knowing this, trembling in its greatness, unable to comprehend my own Fate, I know the part of it that belongs with you. I know that, absolutely. At least that I know completely. Help me, baby. Help me bear it. Help me feel it and not be overcome by it.

“Exalted. Beloved of heaven. My Kenzie. I beheld your greatness. I am moved by it, body and soul.”

His words shivered against her with the softness of tiny wings. He was lifting her face up to him, his mouth the dearest, most passionate adoration. Kenzie could feel the stars above them now; feel their endless, wheeling weight, the massive geometry of their dance, feel the measurement and ponderousness of time for a long, infinite moment, extended through the divinity of his lips. No matter what eons pass, he thought, I will love you. For all time. I always have. In every place. In every time. In every moment. And forever.

Kenzie cried against him for a long time; the stars wheeled, glittering beyond all secret knowledge, and Duncan held her, his arms trembling with emotion, and after awhile, she felt his tears in her hair, and she felt soothed by them. As you are moved by me, I am moved by you, my love. As I am exalted, I’ve exalted you. Body and soul.

--------

Kenzie sat at a long table in a white room.

Zadie. It’s Zadie. Zadie was wearing a long black cardigan and a white blouse, holding a white rose. She was speaking, glancing at Kenzie from where she stood on the other side of the table; Kenzie could sense there were other women on either side of where she sat in the center, could sense their warm, curious energy in soft colors. Zadie was speaking, but Kenzie couldn’t hear her at first--she strained to hear, tried to still her mind away from whatever was blocking her hearing, tried to quiet herself. The sound slowly bled into her mind as though from a far distance--

“Nothing is immutable when the will of a strong woman is applied. Now, show me how strong you are.”

Zadie looked up at her expectantly; and at the other girls. Kenzie looked down--in her hand was a white rose almost identical to the one Zadie was holding. Kenzie knew, immediately; we’re supposed to change the color of the rose. It’s some kind of test--it’s like we’re in a class.

And Kenzie knew immediately, too, that she could do it. Like pouring wine into water, watching the color change. I can pour myself into the rose, and change it, utterly.

Kenzie felt herself breathe out, soothingly, felt the gold of her drift into the rose; slowly it altered, like the tide falling out onto the stretch of the shore. Blue, and her mind flared with the depth of her affection as she watched it change to a rich cobalt, like a lapis stone. Blue, the color of Duncan’s eyes, the color of his soul. Blue, in honor of the one I love most. Kenzie watched the rose deepen, felt the smile on her cheeks--then she watched, as if removed from herself, as the rose’s petals, now deeply, radiantly blue, drifted down from the stem, falling to the table’s surface. She thought of Duncan; like wings inside me, my deepest joy, the flowering center of my being, his hands so beautiful and graceful and delicate on my body, his devotion so pure, so entire. Roses in the bathtub, a diamond moon at my throat, our gold bracelets, tethered to our skin, the aching sound of his voice in the darkness, the beautiful edges of his jaw, his throat, his lips. The way he holds me, the passion of his touch. The blue is for him; as I am his.

Kenzie continued to watch the rose petals; as she did, she felt her mind reach out for them again, as if removed from her own demand, trapped inward, looking outward at another self. The petals began to alter, to change into something else--soon, each one was a cobalt-colored butterfly, their tiny minds melding against hers; each one was a part of her, she could feel it, each one was an aspect of her own soul. And each one is a devotion to him, she knew. Each one is a part of my love for him.

She felt herself drift a hand down, then dip it upwards, her fingers curling softly--the butterflies floated towards the ceiling, their wings drifting in graceful ease. She sent them to where she knew Zadie was standing; with mild surprise she noticed Candice now stood beside the tall girl, wearing a high-collared floral dress, her expression astonished at Kenzie--astonished at what she had done to the rose. The butterflies drifted above Candice’s head; Kenzie pushed the gold in her down, and the butterflies broke apart, becoming petals once more that fell around Candice and Zadie. Candice held out a hand, her face still marked with wonder; one of the petals floated down into her palm, and as Kenzie watched, it turned white again, the blue disappearing entirely.

And then she was drifting back up--up, up, towards a different, darker light, as through a pool of water lit by light, back into the night, back into the field of stars…

Kenzie opened her eyes. They saw nothing at first; only deep darkness, only void. Then, they began to adjust--she could feel the softness of the moonlight, once again peeked from behind a scant slip of cloud, and knew the warmth and weight under her cheek was Duncan’s body, knew the slow, steady drift of his breath meant he was asleep--as she had been a moment ago.

I was dreaming.

Kenzie looked up, moving only her eyes, keeping her head steady against him; through the corners of her vision she could see the universe still spread out above them, sense that they were still in the depth of the night, dawn far off. It was wonderfully warm against him under the quilt; the night was balmy and mild, the wind having drifted off, leaving the air very still. Kenzie could hear peepers calling off in the surrounding trees; she strained for a moment and heard an owl, the pattering of some creature in the undergrowth.

Blue butterflies, she thought. Blue roses for Duncan. How lovely. And Zadie and Candice were there. That was such a beautiful dream. I almost wish it had been longer.

She fought to come out of the dream; noted with vague surprise that they’d fallen asleep out here in the sweetness of the field, under these miraculous stars. I think I could sleep anywhere as long as you’re with me, she thought, and sat up, turning her head to gaze at Duncan in his sleep. Strands of his russet-colored hair drifted against his forehead, and his face was turned down to where the crown of her head had been a moment before, his hand near where her cheek had rested. He looks like an angel, she thought, vaguely; and then the dawning realization swooped back down on her, the memory of his words before, the ones that had made her cry so hard, the ones that had eventually pushed her (and him too) into such sudden, complete slumber.

That I’m divine, she thought. I’m an angel. Or, I was. Or, I will be. That’s not clear. None of this is. I just know he’s right. If so much hadn’t happened already--if so much magick wasn’t drifting around us--I’d think I’d gone insane. But I can’t deny it. I know he’s right, just as I know the sun will rise in a few hours, covering this field in golden dew. Just as I know he loves me so much he would die for me if he had to; die a thousand times, ten thousand times. As I know these things, I also know the truth of what he said; the certainty. I was something like that. It’s the reason I can heal his heart when he’s sad--send gold into him and soothe him. That was something I could do long ago, can do now again because our souls are close once more, and they remember each other, even if we didn’t at first.

That’s all I know. But I can feel that this is just a tip of it. Just the first part of knowing. Be patient, Kenzie Lou. All things come in time. All you can do now is wait. And she knew it was true.

Kenzie slowly slid her fingers down onto Duncan’s serene, stubbled cheek; she hovered just over his mouth now, and whispered softly.

“Dunny, baby, wake up…”

Duncan stirred, his head cocking up, to the side--he made a tiny, sweet sound, like a sigh, and then his eyes (white-blue sapphires) opened to her; she saw the immediate recognition in them, the confusion there washed away almost instantly, the calmness in him to behold her.

“Kenzie, I was making snow,” he murmured, his hands drifting up to grasp her at her hips, and she smiled at him, puzzled.

“Making snow, huh?”

“Mhmm.” He pulled her down to him, back into the warm cocoon of his arms; Kenzie’s cheek pressed into the soft skin that peeked from his collar and she let herself be drawn into the comfort of his embrace again. “I was in front of a fire, facing four men at a table. Anchaly was there, and so was Ben Wilder,” and Duncan laughed a little, his voice still tinged with sleep. “That’s dream logic I guess. I didn’t recognize the other two men...one had glasses, one had a short beard, dark eyes. I’ve never seen them before.”

“And you were making snow in front of a fire?”

“Yeah. The man with the dark eyes said change the weather inside this room, and turn the water into snow. So I did. I stood in front of the fire and lifted my hands into the air--I told the air to change. And it did. It started to snow. I was so happy--it was so lovely, Kenz. They laughed and said beautiful, beautiful--and then I heard your voice. I heard you calling to me, and I woke up.”

“I had a dream too,” she whispered against him, and Duncan’s arms drifted down the smoothness of the little dress she wore. She felt her skin prickle and hum under his fingers; remembered the graceful movements of her own hands, lifting the butterflies she’d made from rose petals into the air. “Zadie and Candice were in my dream, that’s so funny that you had people you recognize in yours too--and it’s odd--I was sitting with these other girls, and Zadie wanted us to change these roses we were holding. Change their color, I mean. And I did, I changed mine from white to blue; blue because it reminded me of you.”

She felt Duncan’s hands drifting down further still. Suddenly she felt hot, flushed--his fingers pressed under the hem of the dress, against the bottom dip of her ass, sore from his attentions earlier. She wondered what the bruises there were like now. His face was turning to her as she spoke, his eyes focusing in hers--she could see that strangely white, ethereal glow again, as though the moon were trapped inside the depth of blue. The white is the hidden aspect of you, she thought, like the moon turning behind a shadow. It’s the magic inside of you.

“Reminded you of me, huh?�� His lips hovered over hers, his hands pressing up further against her ass, making her arch at the sensitivity there, and higher, along the fragile lift of her hip bone.

“Uh huh,” she whispered. “And then I turned them into butterflies. Isn’t that lovely? I thought about your love--how much you love me. And I made the petals into butterflies.”

“That’s beautiful, baby. That’s such a lovely dream. Can I kiss you, Princess?” She turned her jaw up, teasingly, away from his mouth--his lips dipped to hover in the space below her ear, not quite touching down, waiting for her reply. She leaned up into him, letting her breasts press up into his collarbones, eliciting a low moan from him; “...please, Princess Kenzie.” The night air was drifting against them again, the wind having stirred once more. His hair fell onto his forehead--his eyes burned for her, for me alone, she knew.

“Yes. Kiss me.”

He fell against her; his mouth was a supple devotion, salty-sweet and wet for her, wet with need. The depth of his desire was immediate, intense; his hands came to the slender straps at her shoulders, forcing them down with demanding strength as his tongue slipped between the smoothness of her teeth, coiling around hers, lifting back with anticipation, driving forward into her once again. Kenzie let out a low moan--she couldn’t hold back, couldn’t stave off the golden spiral that was stirring in her belly, licking in tendrils to her sore, hot sex. He was pushing the fabric of the dress away, pushing the cups of the bikini top down--Duncan slid down from her mouth and his burning, full lips closed over her nipple, hard and straining in the meandering air. Duncan sucked, flicking his tongue out to coil around her, so hot and wet Kenzie jerked up into him, crying out, then she heard her want falling out of her, like an obscene, Bacchanalian song.

“I wanna suck on you,” she whispered, loving the exigent heat of him on her breast, lost in it, opening her eyes to the stars, their glory urging her on inside her want. “I want you to fuck my mouth, baby. Please. I’m hungry for you.”

“Fuck, Kenzie, baby--”

“I mean it. Come here so I can get you hard for me. Do as I say.”

“Kenzie, angel, fuck, you know I’m already hard for you--”

“Then I’m gonna make you harder. Fuck my mouth.”

He was shivering now, shaken by her demanding tone, she knew; hopelessly aroused with it, straining to resist. She reached up, gripping his jaw, pulling him down to her, roughly devouring his mouth for an aching, unbearable moment, letting the wetness of the saliva gathering on her tongue graze into him, my mouth is wet for you, baby, wet for your needy cock, and then she pushed him up, away from her lips, staring into his eyes, tightening her fingers, a choke of supplication escaping his throat.

“Who do you belong to, baby?” she whispered.

“Ung, Kenzie, you, angel baby, divine angel, you, you know I do--”

“Fuck. My. Mouth.”

She let go of him at that, propping herself up on her elbows now, facing him, expectant. Duncan nodded, his eyes drifting closed in an overwhelmed stupor, the sleep having vanished from his face; he leaned up, the quilt falling away from him, his eyes fixated on the bareness of her breasts where he’d pushed the dress and her bikini down around her waist as he pushed the soft waistband of his shorts down, his thick, hardening cock falling free. Kenzie nodded, grinning at him.

“That’s it, baby. Come here.” She glanced down at her little breasts, suggestively, batting her eyelashes at him; put your cock between my breasts, baby, hold them together, fuck me there, wet me with your tongue--and she saw his eyes flash, long white-silver inside the brilliant blue, and he was leaning down to her, pressing his mouth with unbearably intense sweetness to her heart, laving his tongue out, slickly wet and hot, leaving streaks of moisture in the incline of her chest, glistening in the starlight, the hazy moonlight. Then he was leaning back, bucking his hips up toward her, pressing his cock to the wetness he’d left on her, and Kenzie dipped her head to him with hasty need, sucking his length into her lips, making him gasp--she slid down so he fell further into her throat, then lifted away, and Duncan was leaning his hips between her breasts, his achingly lovely fingers coming under, into their whiteness, covered in goosebumps at his touch. His cock slid down between them and he pushed both of her breasts against his length--Kenzie lowered her lips to the head of his cock again, smiling against it for a moment, then taking it into her mouth, gathering more wetness from the back of her throat; then Duncan was jerking his hips up into her, his mouth falling open in a beautiful abandon that made her feel faint.

I love your big fucking hands, baby, she thought, letting her eyes flutter closed, knowing he was watching her. I love your big fucking beautiful hands on me, spanking me, choking me, gripping me so tightly, leaving the bruises of your affections on me, fuck, I love it so, I love you, there’s nothing like the heat, the sweetness of your hands on me, leave bruises on my breasts, leave the marks of your fingertips on my soft skin--she let herself gag a little on his length, let her eyes roll back, knowing it would drive him to the edge, and felt a satisfied thrill as he groaned, loudly, into the night air, his hips shuddering against her nipples.

“Unnh, baby, Kenzie--” and she dipped lower, taking more of him, insistent, feeling the tips of his fingers digging into the supple, round softness of her. That’s it, baby. You belong to me, your body, your soul. If you know of my divinity--if I must accept it too, if I must find a way to live inside this knowledge while also being human, know that you belong to me--know that as you’re mine, entirely, supplicant to me, I am also yours entirely--and together we are infinitely lovely, intensely divine, my divinity made greater by you--as I give myself to you, give yourself to me: as only you can.

She pulled up from him, her tongue lingering on his smooth head, flicking into the hole there, and another long, pained groan leaked out from his lips.

“Can I please fuck you, Princess?” he moaned, and she giggled against him; oh I fucking love that too, Dunny, baby. I love it when you beg me, my lofty Prince of Shadows. My fair Hades on his high throne, begging me. Bowing to me.

“Only if you call me those beautiful names again,” she whispered, fluttering her eyelashes to him again, lifting her gaze up, staring into him, her tongue flicking out against him again. “Those beautiful divine names.”

“Goddess of the Golden Bower,” he breathed, and pulled away from her mouth; Kenzie let out a little whimper of longing. Come back to me.

“Princess Kenzie, please, let me fuck you now.” I long for the sweetness of our bodies together that way. I long for it always, but under this moon and these stars, I’m aching for you. If your blue butterflies are for me, the snow I made, shrouded in golden firelight, was all for you. “High Princess of the Garden of All Delights. Fuck, baby, I wonder what that place is. The Garden of All Delights. Doesn’t that sound beautiful? And you’re the High Princess of it. That’s only right--” and he was dipping his mouth down against hers again, his hands clutching her up into him, pressing under her shoulder blades, against the soft skin under her arms. “--you are the High Princess, aren’t you? The Princess of all Angels, I’m sure of it, I’m sure you are--”

“Ugh-hh, fu-uck, Duncan, baby--” Kenzie’s cheeks felt unbearably sensitive and soft where he kissed them, the memory of her sobbing tears still fresh there (tears of disbelief--I still can’t believe any of this, it still has to be a dream, how can I be divine, how can that be, blue flowers, blooming in your eyes, beloved, you must be the one who’s divine), but Duncan continued to press into her with insistence, his mouth a devout rose bud blooming onto her, her breath catching sharply inside his concentrations. She reached for his shirt, unbuttoning it (the second time today, baby, the third time in the throes of your need, and fuck, I don’t care, I want you again, I always do) as he worked her dress and the bikini further down, slipping his fingers into the waistband of the bottom at her hips--she slid out under his hands, amazed by the strength in them as she ever was, and his fingers were easily pushing her clothes away, which stood no chance against his urgency.

Now they were both naked (wonderfully, blessedly naked, naked but for my diamond moon and our ever-present golden tethers, the sweetness of this balmy night on our skin, and I’m stunned by your touch over and over, my wild wine god)--Duncan’s head dipped down, his curls trailing along the shivering mound of Kenzie’s stomach as his mouth kissed, adamant, at her abdomen--then pressed, immediate, tasting, at her clit, his tongue flat on her, drifting back and forth--then Duncan arched up and pushed her legs apart as far as he could, with a harsh movement that made her breath catch, suddenly frozen, in her throat; that’s it, fucking fuck me and she was murmuring as his mouth fell on hers again, his knees between her legs now.

“Yes, baby, yes, uhhh, Duncan, yes--” and Kenzie wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in the crook of his shoulder as he pushed into her, as far as he could, his hardness making her gasp again, gasp with immediate tears, and goddess, this beautiful night feels so fucking good, like it’s kissing every inch of me--helping you kiss me because your mouth can’t be everywhere at once, though I wish it could, I wish, baby, I wish--and Kenzie felt as though they were some wild god and goddess in some wild, mounted, hidden place, where only gods could reach, only divinity could escape to; you and me, my exalted love, and she felt his bluish affections inside her, felt his agreement, his approval of her imaginings--yes, Kenzie, only me and you, only us in a secret bower, the Garden of All Delights where only we can go, this place is our own garden right now, our own hidden Eden--

“God, baby, fucking you like this, under the stars--” he was whispering into her ear, his panting breath making her feel terribly close to the edge, weak with the threat of her orgasm, dizzy with the wave of his desire for her, “the most beautiful night, and no one here but us, and those beautiful dreams, and you, the most beautiful of all, my Kenzie--” and she was arching up against him, trying to hold back, but Duncan pressed his mouth to her neck and bit down into it, harshly, insistent to leave a mark--I know you want to, I feel it, Dunny, you want to leave a mark, more marks on my soft skin because I’m yours--and his fingers were dipping into the tininess of the space between their quivering stomachs as he pressed his thick, burning cock up into her, sending her senses reeling into dark, verdant shadows, rubbing at the sodden space between her legs, insistently coaxing her towards what she wanted so much but was desperate to prolong for just a little longer--she could feel him, the cool swirl of his emotion, already sad for the inevitable moment their bodies would part again, and Kenzie clutched at his cheeks, her thumb dipping to his mouth, lost in the beauty of his expression, the heavy half-lidded ecstasy of his eyes, the way his mouth hung open to her, his breath coming against her in lovely labors, each one a prayer to her.

She could feel the sweat that had begun to tether her hair to the back of her neck, against her temples and the dip of her jaw--could see the moisture glinting in the darkness on his forehead, in the dip of his clavicle, along his wide shoulders. “That’s it, baby,” he moaned into her, his eyes incandescently sincere, so lovely in this shade she wanted to laugh or scream or cry against him, “I’ll work you out again and again, Princess, I always will, I can’t stand to be away from you, not ever--there’s nothing that feels as perfect as this to me, nothing as perfect as your sweet little body against mine, fu-fuck, I never want it to end, you and me under these fuu-cking stars, divine Kenzie, under this moon, in this heat--I love you, fucking marry me, will you please marry me, Mackenzie, goddess, sweetest of all beings, I love you--will you marry me?”

She was laughing immediately--the moon had fallen outside of its wisping clouds again, and it seemed to be kissing them. Blessing us, she thought. The moon is giving us its blessing. Your timing is perfect, my sweet love. And I will. I fucking will.

“Fuck, yes, fu-uu-ck, goddess, yes, I fucking will, Duncan, yes,” she gasped into him, and now they were both laughing, the gold in her clashing into his sweet, starry blue, her mouth kissing down onto his face, kissing his eyelids, eternal protectors of his impossibly blue eyes, and the bridge of his beautiful straight nose, his trembling lips, his damp cheeks, damp with his sweat and tears--we can just die now, she thought, die in each other’s arms and then this moment will extend into eternity, and it’s enough, it’s more than enough, it’s everything I’ve ever wanted, to be seen by you so utterly, to feel the safety of my heart enshrined in you, you, you, my beautiful Prince, my evening star, you picked the perfect moment--truly, the most perfect moment--and as they came together, lips hopelessly entwined, smiling through tears of holy, astonished bliss, she thought, eyes to heaven, stars, sing, fucking sing for us--if I’m an angel, I have my wings again, made of a thousand blue butterflies. They’re you. You’re my wings, Duncan Shepherd.

------

The moon was dipping lower southwest by the time they gathered the blanket and quilt up, dressed between ardent, sleepy kisses, piled the remnants of their dinner on the tray, and made their way back up the sloping hill towards the house. The sky had clouded over more than before; it was clear for us, just for that amount of time, our stargazing, our enchanted sleep, our desperate passion, and the perfect moment--so wonderfully, desperately perfect--for him to ask me to belong to him as I knew he wanted to, for him to ask to belong to me, Kenzie thought, drifting against him with tired steps, her head brushing into his arm, his face leaning down to rest against the top of her head as their fingers tangled together, golden bracelets touching; she could feel his own tiredness, feel his longing to hold her entwined in his arms and sleep with her, long, lost, and gone from the world in the golden-soft bed.

As they came over the crest of the hill to the line of trees, Kenzie could see the fire pit still burning; the hickory logs were half gone now, the fire bluish-gold and black-tangerine. “You made a good fire, baby,” she whispered to him, staring up at his shoulder; Duncan smiled at her, sleepy, sincere, lovely beyond all words she could imagine inside this moment.

“I’m so happy, Kenzie,” he replied, his voice sweetly low--Kenzie longed for the moment they would collapse into the bed soon as she heard it, her mind already fixated on their sleep, the quiet halo of his arms and the scent of him in the dark bedroom. “That’s why the fire came out of me so bright--my body is full of it. The fire you’ve built inside me. Mackenzie Shepherd.”

Kenzie grinned at that, stepping ahead of him onto the deck, setting the tray down. “That’s gonna take some getting used to,” she replied. “It still sounds like Annette to me.”

“Well, Momby said herself, it’s not the name--it’s what you do with it.”

“Dunny,” Kenzie’s breath caught and she paused, turning to him. He was still holding the blankets in his arms, standing at the bottom of the steps, and his hair was tossed by their passions, by sweat and sleep. He’s so beautiful inside this moment; his goodness is shining out of him, glowing. I can see your halo now too, my sweet Hades--the one you kept hidden for so long. “You called her Momby. Oh. I love that so much. She’ll cry. She loves you so much, Duncan. Momby loves you so much. She’s going to fucking scream when we tell her.”

“And I love her. I figured--since she’ll really be my mother-in-law now--that she’ll give me her blessing to use her real name.”

“She definitely will. You don’t need to ask. Just wait till you see her face when she hears you call her Momby. Oh, baby--”

She stepped to him, desperate to feel him--clutched his face, the prickle at his jaw.

“I love you, Duncan Malcolm Shepherd.”

“As I love you, Mackenzie Louise Shepherd.”

I dunno, she thought, as Duncan’s lips lifted up to hers, where she hovered above him on the steps, on his kiss the sweet scent of woodsmoke, salt, and jasmine. I think I like it. I really do. Mackenzie Shepherd.

“Let’s try it together this time, baby.” Kenzie pulled one of the quilts from his arms, tucking it between her elbows against her stomach, and grasped his hands. “Let’s move to the bedroom right now. I wanna see if we can do it while we’re touching. Like this.”

A gleeful curiosity came into Duncan’s eyes, and he nodded. “Ready?”

“Ready for anything, baby.”

Kenzie closed her eyes; she focused on the comforting, constant pressure of Duncan’s large hands holding hers, the ever-gentle reassurance of his body close by. Let’s go to bed, she thought, and she felt his mind meld against hers--the thread of him, tied around her. Yes, sweet Kenzie. To bed.

The air shifted--the sweet smell of the hickory wood, the lifting night, the sweet grass dissipated--and then there was only the sound of the wind drifting, slight, against the gauzy curtains, and spring peepers out on the lake, very far off. Kenzie opened her eyes. Duncan was smiling at her; the smile of an angel. Where is your crown of flowers, my sweet Prince of Heaven, she thought. Here you are, unshrouded, radiant.

“We did it,” he whispered. He dropped the blanket from under his arm to a heap on the floor--gathered her up against him, pulling the quilt away from her--and carried her to the bed, his arms lifting her as though she were made of the soft blankets herself, easily, so sweetly, with a tenderness that brought a drifting, tingling contentment along her entire body, from the tip of her head to the bottom of her toes; hold me, beloved, forevermore. Duncan buried his face against her, and she knew they wouldn’t need to speak any more words out loud tonight. We did it--you and me. We moved through space and time. Together. Because it’s this love that brought all this magic into our lives. Everything else flows out from this love.

A little while later, their faces was washed, their teeth brushed, and they were naked, wiped clean of sweat and the residue of their come with damp cloths. Her back was pressed against his warm, bare torso in the golden-soft bed, his hand clasped in hers between her breasts, and Kenzie lay listening to the soft sound of Duncan’s measured, dreaming breath, feeling the tickle of it on her neck, and the gentle pulse of his heartbeat between her shoulders. She could sense that sunrise was not far off as she drifted away to sleep, inside the haven of his arms. Something’s coming tomorrow, she knew. But she wasn’t afraid; she welcomed it. Come destiny. Come. We’re ready.

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locke-writes · 7 years ago

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Shows First, Fandoms Later

Tagging: @ghostofachancewithyou (hope you don’t mind. I saw your comment and thought you might want to read.

AN: There might be fandoms mentioned as examples but this is not targeted towards any specific fandoms/shows or people in particular. This is solely my experience and opinion based on what I’ve seen in my time on tumblr. You have every right to disagree and if you have any opinions or questions at the end of this monstrosity please don’t hesitate to share/ask. I’m sorry for the length in advance

I’ve been on tumblr a long ass time. Six years to be exact (now don’t go fact checking because this blog is newer than my personal so it won’t actually reflect my tumblr age). But being on tumblr for so long had taught me a lot and made me observant of a lot of trends. Now most trends come and go but the one that I’ve seen remained is people gravitating to the fandom of a show before getting into the show itself.

Now I want to say before launching into why this isn’t a good choice that I don’t mean people who start watching a show based on gifs they’ve seen. I’ve been one of those people who thought something looked interesting because someone reblogged a gifset. This is a perfectly fine way of expanding your interests and I by no means discourage you from partaking in media because you saw something about it on your dash.

No what I’m referring to is getting into a show because you follow someone who began watching something and now they’re posting longwinded posts about why ______ shouldn't have happened or how could _______ have done that thing. I’m talking about people getting into shows because they might be drawn to a certain ship based solely on the reblogged or created content of someone they follow. No context, no character backstory, no nothing. You just base your own opinion off the opinions of others and as such these become your only opinions when partaking in the show.

That’s the kind of problems I’m talking about.

Now Noah, you might ask,

1. Why is this such a bad thing?

2. What if I’ve done this before and haven’t changed my mind?

3. Or what if I haven’t stepped into the problematic side of a fandom because of this?

Well then I say to you.

1. It isn’t a bad thing. At least not necessarily. Stepping into a fandom based on analytical posts can be perfectly fine so long as the analytical posts are about content rather than a ship. Getting into a fandom or a show specifically because of posts you’ve seen about the representation it has or the feminism in it is all perfectly fine. Getting into a show based on posts solely based on why one ship is superior than another. Bad. Harmful. Can be more hurtful to you in the long run than helpful.

Let’s look at Superwholock as a whole to examine this as these three fandoms were once some of the largest and some of the largest proprietors of ship war content. For those unaware of how Superwholock came to be or why these three shows with little to nothing in common are always grouped together allow an ancient of tumblr to explain.

When you first joined tumblr in 2012 it was a desolate place. Barely any content for any fandoms at all. Memes were abundant yet scarce at the same time. There were no fights between fandoms and the anonymous hate was there but rare and usually by someone who would slip up and send a hate message off anon only then to be exposed to the world. It was the reign of tumblr user pizza before she got her blog deleted for promoting diet pills and it was the days of either hating John Green for no reason or playing the “is that John Green” game. Now Superwholock got combined because at the time these were the main three fandoms people were in. The main three highjacking posts with their comments or gifs, and the main three fandoms that everyone was in. If you were into Supernatural or Sherlock or Doctor Who, then you were bound to be in one of the other two, both of them, or know someone who was.

Tumblr history lesson over we’ll get back to why watching a show based on analytical content of gifs and character actions isn’t helpful to you as a viewer. And we're going from firsthand experience here. I’m baring it all to you embarrassment be damned. Supernatural was my first tumblr fandom and I got into that fandom based on gifs that seemed interesting and the main ship that got tumblr either joyful or upset, Destiel. That’s Dean Winchester and Castiel if you’re out of the loop.

Now there's absolutely nothing wrong with the ship and good for you if you ship it. I’m just going off why you shouldn’t watch a show because of ship content or other non-critical content. (and yes I know ship content/queerbaiting content can be critical content but a lot of the time those critics are based on nothing at all and can be debunked by rewatching a scene. But that’s another post and argument for another day).

Seeing all the Destiel content on tumblr I was absolutely one hundred percent sure that I would ship them. That if I watched the show not only would I enjoy it but now I would 100% understand why everyone shipped them and what everyone was talking about when they talked about certain Destiel related scenes. But the problem was that when I began watching the show and getting to the seasons with Castiel, I didn’t see it. I didn’t get any romantic attraction between the two, in fact the ship began to not make sense at all. I couldn’t understand what people saw or where they saw it. Destiel scenes on tumblr made no more sense with context because now that I knew the context I didn't find anything ship worthy about them. For awhile I kept watching because I wanted to see it, eventually I thought I would gain shipping goggles, that something would happen. But the only thing that happened is that I began hating the fandom because it bothered me that what I saw wasn’t what they seemed to see, I felt that I was in the wrong. I began stumbling across shipping wars and seeing just how hateful a fandom could become, bashing the actors for not acknowledging a ship, bashing the writers for not making it canon. Fighting amongst themselves and sending death threats to people who didn’t ship what they did who might ship Castiel with Sam or someone else but not Dean. And because I got into the fandom first I was blinded to the true hatred. I had seen all this at the start but I had already bought into the fact these ship wars weren't hateful because I was on the right side, I had bought into the idea that the show I had yet to begun to watch was only what I had seen on tumblr and only what everyone seemed to see rather than gather my own opinion of it.

I had stumbled across a fandom in which everyone seemed to be creating something so wholly separate from the show that I believed it was the show. The content I consumed by the fandom was what I imagined the true content to be and then when I began the show on my own it crumbled and I became disillusioned. Burnt out on the thing that had first brought me joy.

Fandoms can be fantastic places but getting into them first can mean that you are getting into a fans perception of the show rather than the show itself rather than formulate an opinion of your own based on the content you choose to consume. Watch what you want and if you chose it based on tumblr content like gifs than good for you, but formulate your own opinion rather than base it off of argumentative posts one of your friends made.

2. If you’ve began watching a show because of these analytical posts and possible ideologies about certain ships and haven’t changed your mind than good for you. Maybe you separated the content from the posting on your own or maybe that content influenced your viewing habits but that ship or that character or whatever does make sense to you. I'm not saying that getting into a fandom first is 100% inherently bad, I’m just saying that it can be. If you enjoy someones content on here and their opinions and consume the media for yourself finding that your opinions do end up aligning for the most part with that other persons, there’s nothing wrong with it. You just happen to share a similar opinion with someone.

Fandoms are great and so are the people in them. Just be sure to formulate your own opinions about the content. If it aligns with some of the things you saw before you began watching, well alright then there’s nothing wrong with that.

3. Every side of a fandom can be problematic in some way. If by some miracle you’ve found other like minded individuals who understand that ship wars are petty and childish and blaming show runners and writers for things that you wanted to happen but didn’t than stay there and never leave. Stay in that miracle bubble. I’m not saying don’t hold up the writers and show runners up to certain standards. Of course do that, of course argue for representation and the like. Just don’t be a dick about it, do some research on who controls what aspect of a tv show, don’t attack people who work on the show, don’t claim to own the actors. And most importantly, treat them with respect. They are humans too yknow. Be upset with the turn out of something, you’ve every right to be, but don’t be upset that someone else didn’t get offended at the same thing you did. TV shows aren’t like real life. If you don’t get offended that this ship didn’t become canon you aren’t racist or sexist or homophobic, you simply just are looking at it in a different light. Unless of course you didn't like the thing because you are racist, sexist, or homophobic.

Basically. All fandoms are problematic in one way or another whether you see it or not. Reexamine yourself and the way you consume your content, the way you talk about it as well. Enjoy content for yourself.

All in all, watching a show because you liked something that happened in a gifset is completely fine. I’ve done it, plenty of people have done it, it’s a great way to find that new favorite character or thing. Just be sure that if you get into something because you saw some detailed post about why _______ should happen or ________ should become canon, don’t base your entire show watching experience on that. Base your experience with media off of what you want and are looking for. Don't be afraid to disagree with those old posts you thought you were going to identify with after watching and don’t be afraid to unfollow people who communicate only through hate or who’s opinions you find yourself disagreeing with. The shows you watch and the posts you look at should be ones you enjoy. If you don't enjoy the content then something might be wrong.

TL;DR: Getting into a show and watching it for yourself is great. Getting into a show because of gifs is great. Getting into a show because of analysis based posts can be harmful if you don’t step back and consume the media while formulating your own opinion.

#locke rambles #this is just an opinion piece #i did not proofread

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lost-your-memory · 7 years ago

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Hey girl, long time no see. Friendly neighbourhood NASCAR here with another prompt based in these Hozier lyrics. When my time comes around Lay me gently in the cold dark earth No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her So like Kara is presumed dead and there's a service and everything, then Kara turns up at 3 am at her door saying hi, before collapsing in her arms. Angsttttt please

Hi anon!Long time no see, indeed! I’m here with your prompt and fair warning, it’s packed up with angst but it has a happy ending. It’s also over 12k words so it’s long. Inspired by @beyondambivalent gifset that you can find here xAll thanks to @cat-danvers for the beta-reading and thoughtfull advices ♥

“Mom! Mom wake up! Wake up, mom!”

Cat’s eyes snapped open as she felt her body being shaken awake, rather abruptly. She was exhausted, the few hours of sleep she had managed to snatch weighing heavy upon her eyelashes and already urging her to close them again, to go back to sleep.

“Mom! Mom, please, wake up.”

The voice sounded distant, like an echo far away in the room but she recognized it instantly and it provoked a surge of adrenaline that kickstarted her system as she finally heard the panicked edge it held. She jolted up to sit in her bed, running a hand over her face to chase the fatigue away and then, she finally focused on her son. Her heart squeezed, missed a beat and then dropped when she took in the tears running down his cheeks, the terror swirling in his baby blue eyes and the way he was practically panting, his chest heaving up and down too quickly as he struggled just to breathe.

“Carter? Sweetheart, hey, I’m here, what’s wrong? I’m awake, I’m awake, take a deep breath and tell me. What is it?” She asked, trying to sound soft and inviting and not to show the fear he was rapidly awaking in her guts.

“Mom, it’s Kara! She’s, she’s … Mom, you need to see this! Come on! Mom.” He was tugging at her wrist and she quickly pushed the blanket away, to be able to leave the bed and to follow her son. Her heart was racing in her chest and her mind was whirling and spinning, going in every direction but she couldn’t seem to focus on anything.

The penthouse was almost pitch black but as they came close to the living room, she noticed the glowing and flashing halo the television was casting upon the furnitures. The sound was on, very low but she heard sirens and shouts, screams too. Carter dragged her in front of the huge flat screen and then he slid his fingers to hold her hand, tight. She squeezed it gently, out of habit but mostly because he was frightening her but then, she caught a glimpse of a blue and red blur on the screen and her attention sharpened.

The scene unfolding before her, filmed by one of CatCo’s most talented cameraman and commented by the usual night anchor, wasn’t typically new but still quite impressive. National City got used to see Supergirl fight some kind of alien threat and save the day but Cat immediately sensed it; something was off.

Grabbing the remote with her free hand, she turned the volume up and listened as the anchor tried to explain what was happening in the middle of National City.

“For the last two hours, Supergirl has been struggling to arrest the unidentified alien responsible for all the bombings around the city those past two weeks. The fight first began when Supergirl landed near the alien as he was apparently targeting the CatCo building and she managed to relocate the confrontation a few roads away but ever since, she’s been in a complicated position.”

Cat felt a chill go down her spine as she stared at the live footages of Supergirl trying to come closer to her opponent.

The alien didn’t look that impressive, almost human even, if not for the greyish color of his skin and the glowing green of his eyes. He was slightly taller than an average man but the cruel smirk on his lips truly was the most disturbing fact about his overall appearance.

“We don’t know the details but judging by the fact Supergirl can’t quite approach him, the most plausible theory is that he is wearing some kind of device that is forcing the hero to keep her distance.”

The anchor’s words took a few seconds to penetrate Cat’s mind and she suddenly understood what was happening on the screen, why Kara was standing so far away from her enemy and why she looked exhausted, weak even.

The hostile alien was carrying kryptonite with him.

In the background, Cat saw men in black move around to try to clear a path and evacuate all the civilians but they didn’t get too close to the hostile alien and she guessed Hank must have told them off. The camera suddenly jerked toward the left and it showed tanks and army trucks pull over on each side of the main street, a flow of soldiers bleeding out from them, ready to follow orders.

“The army is now on the site and it appears that General Lane is going to fight at Supergirl’s side.”

The camera was back on Supergirl and Cat barely felt any relief when she saw Lucy Lane pull Kara back a little, further away from the alien terrorist. Another woman suddenly appeared at the edge of the frame and walked towards the duo. Cat recognized Alex and she briefly wondered why the older Danvers wasn’t trying to keep her sister away from the fight, since Kryptonite seemed to be involved.

But the camera zoomed and even though the image became blurry, Cat could see the panic and the urgence in the women’s moves, the way Kara gestured and talked with her hands like she often did to argue. The side of her face looked strained with something sticky and as the image tried to focus, Cat realized it was blood.

“Mom, she’s bleeding.”

It’s when she heard Carter’s voice next to her that she realized she had forgotten about him, about their hands linked together as they watched the news. She managed to tear her eyes away from the flat screen to focus on him.

He looked so frightened, tears still spilling out from his deep blue eyes and soaking the collar of his Harry Potter pyjama as he tried to breathe. He was almost fifteen now, already a teenager but at this instant, in the heart of the night and under the dim light of the TV, he looked terribly younger.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” She answered and she squeezed his hand a little harder because as much as she still wanted to protect him from the world and its tragedies, right now, she couldn’t lie to him. Not when they were both aware of what was happening.

She heard him gasp and she immediately focused back on the screen.

The camera was now focused on the hostile alien, who had just started glowing green. His skin showed cracks and creases glimmering with the exact shade of green that colored his eyes. The gleam was quickly growing and the cameraman suddenly moved to show Supergirl push the two other women away, a look of pure terror twisting her usually poised features.

The image jumped back to the alien and his smug smirk and Cat suddenly realized he wasn’t wearing any device or anti-supergirl tool.

He was made kryptonite.

He had it in his body and if the way he was suddenly standing in the middle of the place, arms outstretched and head tipped backward, the green radiations dangerously becoming blinding, he was about to blow himself up.

She gasped and clutched Carter’s hand a little tighter, her eyes never leaving the screen.

Then, everything happened at once.

The image was a blur as Supergirl flung herself at the hostile alien, securing him in a tight grip before and taking off to the sky.

Cat let out another gasp and brought her free hand over her mouth, terrorized as she watched the two bodies disappear into darkness above the city.

Suddenly, the anchor stopped talking altogether and there was no siren, no scream and not a single sound echoed as everyone seemed to wait for something to happen. The main camera was searching the sky while another one was showing the faces of Lucy and Alex. They were too far away and the quality wasn’t good but Cat knew Alex was trying to reach out to Supergirl through her earpiece, while Lucy waited next to her.

Nothing happened for a long while and the seconds bleeded into a full minute, then two, then three …

The explosion, high up above the clouds, casted a blinding and bright green light over the whole city and the sound that came seconds later was deafening and strong enough to cause the earth to shake, breaking windows and light bulbs, setting off car alarms and popping up a few fire hydrants.

The camera searched the sky frantically now, joined by all the broadcasting cameras around National City.

Next to her, Carter had stopped breathing and Cat was holding her breath as well, mentally praying for the familiar blur of red and blue to come down.

The kryptonite dust slowly disappeared and the sky regained its original color, pitch black with some sparkle of grey when the clouds flew too close to the lights of National City.

The sirens were still silent, the anchor had yet to resume its reporting and not even the low purr of a car engine could be heard in the background. It felt like the whole city was holding its breath, waiting for its most beloved hero to come down, so the public could finally let go of the fear to break down into a well deserved round of applause and loud cheers.

Except this time, the minutes bleeded into hours and nothing ever fell from the sky.

—

Carter was curled up on the couch, having cried himself up to sleep, despite Cat’s best attempts to comfort him, but if she was being honest, she was glad he had finally passed out. She had tried to stay strong for him, because she knew he needed someone to ground him and to try to reassure him, even if he was too clever to believe anything she had tried to come up with to explain what they saw.

Now pacing the floor between the couch and the TV, she tried to call Alex again. She was so sure it would go straight to voicemail, like the first thirty times she had tried, that she almost dropped her phone when Alex picked up.

“Cat, I’m sorry I couldn’t call you before, things are … hectic,” Alex said and Cat noticed she sounded breathless, panting even. There was a lot of noise in the background, shouts and ruffling, loud footsteps echoing through a close space.

“Alex. What’s happening, where is Kara? She doesn’t answer my call, I figured maybe she was injured … The explosion … It was kryptonite, is she alright?” Cat asked, pacing even more frantically, squeezing her phone so tight she thought it might break, waiting for answers.

“Cat. Take a deep breath. Sit down.” Alex ordered and Cat frowned, recoiling under the command. However, she did as she was told because as much as she hated being ordered around, she trusted Alex.

She sat down at the far end of her couch, next to her son’s feet and she glanced at him to make sure he was still asleep. His face was still red and puffy, tears strain clearly visible in the dim light the TV casted on his worried and distressed features. Her heart ached for him and more than anything in the world, she wanted Alex to bring her good news so she could tell Carter that everything would be alright and mean it.

“Alex, please. I need to know that she’s alright.” Cat whispered, swallowing hard against the lump of anxiety caught in her throat. On the screen in front of her, a camera was still searching through the sky above National City and the anchor was now back to himself, reporting the news with a grave face and a very serious voice.

“Cat …” Alex sighed and there was a short pause before she started speaking again. “We don’t know where she is.”

Cat felt her heart drop in her chest and stop for a few seconds. She closed her eyes and forced herself to take a deep breath, then another one and she worked her way through the rising panic that threatened to wash over her.

“Everyone at the DEO is looking for her and I even called Clark for help but he blew off his powers a few days ago, during the big fight against the Dominators that menaced to invade Earth … Kara had to go there to help …” Alex explained and Cat cut her off.

“Yes, yes, I remember. What does it mean you don’t know where she is? She has a geo-locating device in her suit and you updated it just last month, can’t you use it?” She asked, trying to summon her Cat Grant CEO persona to deal with the fear twisting her stomach and the panic growing ever so quickly in her chest.

“It’s the first thing I tried but the device must have been affected by Kryptonite because it’s not working. The last known coordinates are in National City, just above the block where she was fighting the enhanced Valeronian.” Alex answered, her voice a little sharp but steady.

“Enhanced Valeronian? You mean … He was … part of Cadmus?” Cat swallowed, standing up to start pacing the floor again, unable to stay put.

“Yes, we believe so. They must have injected him with Kryptonite somehow, like they did with Metallo but this time, they knew better. The alien had full control over the radioactive material and he chose to blow himself up when he realized he was cornered … I … I told her not to …” Alex trailed off and Cat heard the weaver in her voice.

“Alex. You need to find her. I … Please, please find her.” Cat almost collapsed to the floor as she realized what the change in Alex’s voice could mean.

The size of the explosion had been impressive but what scared Cat beyond imagination was that it had been a bomb made of Kryptonite.

“I’m trying. Lucy is deploying all her army resources to help us find her but … Cat, you need to …” Alex tried to warn her but Cat shook her head no, even though the older Danvers couldn’t see it.

“Don’t. I don’t want to hear it. Find her.” Cat ordered sharply, the sheer force of her denial audible in her tone.

“We will. I’ll call you back in the morning, hopefully with an update.” Alex replied and she hung up without another word.

Cat stood in the middle of her living room, in the glowing halo of the TV screen, clutching her phone between her fingers as she desperately tried not to cry.

—

Morning came and there was still no word about Supergirl’s whereabouts.

Carter asked to stay home and Cat couldn’t deny him.

She managed to get him to agree to a shower and she sighed in relief when she saw him walk towards the bathroom.

She made breakfast, trying very hard not to think of the many mornings when she had found Kara singing and dancing around the kitchen, using a wooden spoon or spatula as a mic and making Carter laugh with her silly faces and moves.

They have been together for a little over two years now but somehow, it felt unreal.

Cat was still waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the day Kara would wake up and realize she was wasting her time with a woman twice her age, all sharp edges and blunt wit, unused to be loved and not sure how to love in return.

Yet, every day Kara was there by her side, her usual bubbly self and she made it seem so easy, to love and to be loved, Cat grew addicted to the feeling. She was a junkie for Kara’s presence, for her smile and her sparkling blue eyes, for the random rambles and the science nerding, for the soft touches and the comfortable silences, for the constant support and even for the arguments they had, whenever Cat would let her insecurities take over or when Supergirl would act a little too careless during a fight. She loved the way Kara would roll over in the night to make contact with her skin, the way her whole face lit up when she was told there would be potstickers, she admired Kara and Carter’s beautiful relationship, how the hero was always very careful of his feelings and she was grateful for being allowed to see Kara grow and blossom in her life, both as a woman and as a superhero, even if it meant countless sleepless nights filled with worries and anxiety, until Kara would flow back through the windows with a smile on her face.

She was still hoping for that kind of return, despite the voice in her head whispering it wasn’t going to be that easy this time.

“I’m not hungry.” Carter said as he stood in the kitchen’s entrance, a frown between his anxious blue eyes and a scowl on his lips as he watched her put a few pancakes on a plate.

“I know. I’m not either but we have to eat something.” Cat replied and she brought two plates to the living room, putting them down on the coffee table. Carter followed and if he was surprised to be allowed to eat here, he didn’t say anything. She went back to the kitchen to bring back two glasses of fresh orange juice and she then joined him on the sofa.

He grabbed the remote and turned the TV on. The images were the same as last night, on repeat as the anchor said they didn’t have any new informations about Supergirl’s disappearance. After a while, Carter muted the sound and reluctantly picked at his food, managing to eat a full pancake before pushing the plate away.

“Thank you. I know it’s hard but we need to take care of ourselves too.” Cat softly said and Carter turned his head to look at her.

“Okay, mom. Then you need to finish your pancake too.” He pointed at her plate and she sighed, knowing he was right. He was trying to be strong, she could tell, and the least she could do was to make the same effort.

She felt her stomach protest at the food she was forcing down on it but she finally ate the whole pancake. She downed her orange juice before taking a deep breath.

“Alright. I’m going to work from home today and you can do whatever you want as long as you promise to eat lunch and dinner, I will fix us something or … order something for tonight if you prefer?” She asked him, standing up to gather their plates to bring them into the kitchen, leaving everything in the sink.

“I don’t know. Maybe, we can wait until Kara comes home and we’ll figure out for tonight?” Carter replied, sounding so hopeful it broke Cat’s heart.

“Sweetheart I … I don’t know if she will be back by then. They have yet to find her and she might be in a bad shape …” She forced herself to answer, looking right into his eyes while doing so. She saw the gleam of hope waver and reduce but it was still there when he nodded.

“Alright. I’m going to go read in my bedroom. Can you … call me, if there is any news?” She almost sobbed at the insecurity in his voice, the way he asked so cautiously making it clear that he was struggling to keep on hoping.

“Of course, Sweetheart,” She answered, not even trying to smile because she knew she couldn’t.

He nodded and then wandered off towards his bedroom.

As soon as she heard the door close, she retrieved her phone from the kitchen counter and dialed Alex, crossing the penthouse to go lock herself in her home office.

“Cat.” Alex’s exhaustion was tangible in her voice, low and slow.

“Alex, is there … Do you have any … news?” Cat asked, trying to sound sure and sharp but failing miserably as panic rose again in her chest.

“None.” Alex sighed but she didn’t give Cat the time to speak. “Lena Luthor reached out to put all her resources at our services and we are now a little over 500 people to search for her but so far nothing. Hank is out, flying in circles around the city and we are extending the range. Winn created a fancy algorithm to calculate the force of the explosion, taking in account a whole bunch of factors to determine the probability for how far Kara had been projected but … Either he made some mistakes and it didn’t work or …” Alex trailed off, a loud sigh escaping her lips as she was obviously trying to pull herself together.

“It has to work.” Cat whispered, her mind blocking any other possible outcome. “What does Superman say? I know he blew up his powers but surely, he can reach out to … friends, who can help?”

She heard the sound of heavy footsteps on Alex’s side, some muffled voices shouting orders.

“He contacted Batman, who’s now working with Winn to modify the algorithm, and we tried to contact our friends on Earth-1 but they’re busy with a creature that can time-travel, they can’t help us.” Alex answered before snapping at someone. Cat couldn’t make out the words but she recognized the second voice as belonging to Lucy.

“Alex.” She called, trying to get the older Danvers attention. “Alex!”

“Yes, Cat? I’m busy you know, I’m trying to be there for you and to keep you updated but you need to let me do my job so I can find her and bring her home.” Alex replied, a sharp edge in her voice that softened towards the end of her sentence. Cat understood, more than anyone else, the urgency in the woman’s tone, the hint of despair that came with the feeling of helplessness. It was eating her alive as she tried to gather her courage.

“Alex. What are … “ She tried to swallow but it felt like shards of glass were being forced down her throat. “What are the odds?” She finally brought herself to ask.

The silence that followed was an answer in itself but when she heard the muffled sob Alex had been unable to hold back, she closed her eyes and shook her head, still trying to deny the evidence even as it started to sink in.

“Not good.” Alex finally managed to croak. “By every calculation, if we take in consideration the concentration of kryptonite in the enhanced Valeronian and despite Kara’s powers … The chances of survival are less than ten percent.”

This time, Cat fell to her knees on the rug of her office and started crying, silently.

“How long before … how long before you have to stop?” Cat heaved as she tried to contain her cries, hating herself for asking but needing an answer all the same.

“A week.”

Cat let out a loud sob.

“I’m going to try everything I can until the very last second but .. I …” Alex Danvers was one of the bravest people Cat knew and she knew a lot of people but in this moment, she sounded like a little girl on the verge of tears. Cat was aware that the agent was trying to keep it together despite the situation but she could still hear the trace of fatality in her voice, the not so distant echo of an impending loss that would ravage them both.

“I know you will. I … just, let me know, if …” Cat finally said, managing to sound almost normal if not for the slight panting in between her fragmented sentences.

“I will.” Alex replied solemnly, before hanging up.

Cat threw her phone across the room, towards one of her sofas. It landed on the cushions with a soft thud, before it bounced back and fell on the hard-wooden floor.

She heard the crack in the screen and that was what broke the dam.

She started crying uncontrollably.

—

Three days passed in an agonizingly slow blur and Cat was losing her mind.

She had snapped at pretty much everyone that worked in her building, fired two assistants and yelled at a member of the board and she had just received a call from Carter’s school that made everything worse.

Carter had gotten in a fight.

She knew he wasn’t dealing well with the situation, at all, but still, she hadn’t expected that kind of behavior from her son.

Carter used to be so shy and shell-locked, not socializing, not talking much either, content to be by himself but with the help of Kara, he had grown and gained in confidence. Now, he had friends and he even became somehow popular in highschool. He still had panic attacks when he was surrounded by strangers or facing an unknown or stressful situation but Kara had taught him how to deal with it.

She was lost in her thoughts in the backseat of the car, on her way to pick her son up, when Alex called. Her heart missed a few beats and she almost didn’t pick up, her mind going through every possibility for the older Danvers to contact her. Somehow, she could sense that it wasn’t the good kind of call and she was afraid of what she would learn.

Finally, she gathered her courage and pressed the green button.

“Alex.” She greeted stiffly, unable to ask anything and letting the other woman do the work.

“Actually, it’s Lucy.” The familiar voice of the General filled her with a dreadful feeling.

“Lesser Lane. Why are you calling me from Alex’s phone?” Cat asked, frowning as she checked the ID on her screen.

“Alex just passed out. She’s fine, she was just exhausted, severely dehydrated and she had neglected to eat for too long. She’s been working on finding Kara for the last four days non-stop. Her mother just arrived, she’s in good hands.” Lucy informed her, sounding incredibly tired as well. Everyone was.

“Eliza’s here?” Cat swallowed thickly. She was drowning in the turmoil of her feelings but she couldn’t even fathom what Eliza must be feeling. Cat was trying not to lose hope but while she was waiting for her lover to return, Eliza was waiting for a child.

“She’s just arrived yes, I called her yesterday because Alex snapped at me in the middle of the DEO, yelling that she didn’t need to rest or to eat, that she only wanted to work to find her sister. She’s stretched herself too thin, it was only a matter of time before she’d fall,” Lucy explained and she sighed, loudly. “I just wanted to let you know that if you need to call, you can call me now. Alex is hooked up to an IV and she won’t get up anytime soon. We’re ready to sedate her if needed, because we can’t … I can’t … we can’t lose them both.”

Cat’s breath hitched and she swallowed back a sob. She hated Lucy for having say that out loud but she also knew she needed to hear it. Lucy wasn’t taking gloves with her and she was right to do so. For all her hopes and prayers, Cat still didn’t want the truth to be sugar-coated.

“I’ll call you if anything change.” Lucy finally said, ending the call before Cat could say thank you.

There was no time to lose.

—

It was the last night of search.

Cat had tried to sway the president to have more time but Olivia refused. She was gentle and kind but still firm when she told Cat she would not allow the waste of a major part of the government resources on a search mission that would lead nowhere.

At some point, Cat had lost her temper and threatened her with some blackmail material that could possibly ruin Olivia’s campaign, should she choose to run again.

The president didn’t cave and they had hung up on each other, both aware of the new and irreparable crack in their friendship.

It was 2am and Cat was staring at the ceiling of her bedroom, sprawled on her back on the bed she had grown used to share with Kara for the past two years.

She had never realized how big and cold that bed was, until Kara came along.

She was haunted by the ghost feeling of Kara’s soft and warm skin pressed against hers, by the weight of an arm thrown around her waist and by the gentle tickle of sunkissed curls brushing her shoulder or the back of her neck.

She took a deep breath, inhaling the last remnants of her lover’s scent and it brought up a sob Cat didn’t even try to hold back. It smelled like earth and wind, like fresh morning dew and sweet cinnamon rolls and more than never, she wished it was all a dream.

It wasn’t and Kara was missing, had been for the past seven days.

Cat sobbed again and then pushed the covers away, leaving her bed to go open the bay windows leading to her balcony. She stepped out and let the darkness of the night envelope her. She went to sit down on one of the sunbath and looked up at the night sky, searching for the stars Kara had shown her a few times.

It was hot like a regular summer night in National City and no wind was blowing to relieve the skin from the sickening dampness that clung to it. It smelled like heavy dust and burned asphalt and from time to time, the strong salty scent of the ocean would waft up to the high buildings.

The sky was clear and pure, stars shining brightly, scattered across the whole celestial vault and the moon, not quite full but still looking round, was casting a strong halo over the world. For once, Cat regretted living in a building at the limit of a bustling city because the lights were drowning the natural night glow.

She sighed heavily and looked down at her phone. She was bringing it everywhere with her now, still hoping despite the deadline hanging over her head like the sword of Damoclès. The picture on her locked screen was one of Kara and Carter at the beach house, with the boy on Kara’s shoulders as the superhero was walking towards the camera, emerging from the ocean behind her.

The happy smiles and matching blue eyes were painful to look at, tonight.

She unlocked her phone and scrolled through her repertoire to a number she hadn’t called in years. She let her thumb hover above the name, unsure if it was the right thing to do at the moment but she was sleep deprived and barely holding it together and she had trouble to keep thinking rationally.

She would have already crumbled if it wasn’t for her son, who needed her more than ever.

Finally, she touched the screen and brought her phone to her ear, listening to the multiple rings before a familiar voice came through.

“Kitty.”

It was a nickname she loathed, especially coming from her but tonight, she found some solace in the way she frowned at the endearment term. It was something she knew, something straight out of her memories but concrete, real. Something certain, God knew she needed it.

“Lesser Lane. I’m surprised you picked up.” She said, her voice a little hoarse from all the crying she’d been doing lately, even though she had tried to keep it to a bare minimum.

“Frankly, you and me both. I was sound asleep, you see.” Lois answered but there was no hint of annoyance in her voice, just a slight slur betraying that she had indeed just woken up.

“At 2am on a Saturday morning, groundbreaking.” Cat sassed, needing the banter to distract her from the impending doom that would come with the raising sun. At noon today, the search for Kara would stop and there was nothing she could do. Nothing.

“I know, I’m getting old but I’m still better looking than you so you know, I haven’t lost everything yet.” Lois replied and her smirk was practically audible in her words but it was the wrong thing to say, because Cat broke down.

“Oh Kitty, I’m so sorry I didn’t think before speaking. You know it’s one of my many flaws, I just jump right in and I get myself in trouble …” Lois spoke softly, her voice clear but gentle as she kept talking. “I know you don’t care but I’m going to talk about me because let’s be honest, it’s the best topic of conversation ever.”

Cat snorted between her cries but she didn’t answer, clinging to her phone and focusing on this familiar voice she usually found annoying and not worthy of her time.

Tonight however, it was something she wanted, something she needed and she settled a little more comfortably on the sunbath to let her best rival talk.

—

Alex called her at five past noon to let her know that to the whole world, Supergirl was dead.

The older Danvers voice was mechanical and hollow when she explained that as far as they were concerned, the DEO, the Army, L-Corp and all the entities that had joined the search mission were done and that they were planning to release a statement to announce it.

Through her grief and the agony of her loss, Cat demanded to be the one to write the article about Supergirl’s death and to release the news with CatCo.

She lost it when Alex told her she also needed to write a statement to explain the sudden disappearance of Kara Danvers.

—

The article went down for publication on Monday morning and National City fell into a painful silence as everyone read the news. The anchors of CatCo released a statement listing the casualties of the last attacks on National City, starting with Supergirl and finishing off with the names of the civilians who died in the wake of the fight.

Kara Danvers was the last name, reported missing while following a lead for a mafia case she was working for CatCo Worldwide Media.

In the end, the newsman informed that the hero would have a military funeral on the next day, with her coffin being driven across the city before the actual private ceremony in National City’s cemetery.

The anchor called for everyone’s respect as he explained that the public wasn’t allowed past the gates of the sacred garden.

Cat threw her remote at the TV at the end of the broadcast, breaking the screen, and she fell to her knees, too exhausted to cry but hurting too much to keep standing.

Carter came behind her to hug her tight, crying against her shoulder as they both mourned the loss of their hero.

—

National City was strangely quiet this morning. Almost all of the streets were empty, the shops were closed and no car was troubling the tacit but somber peace.

The sky was heavy with dark grey clouds that floated around the skyscrapers and threatened to burst with rain at any moment. The rolling echo of the thunder would sometimes shake the ground but everything was otherwise silent.

Cat held onto Carter’s hand as they followed the black coffin along Main Street.

It was a beautiful casket, made of black polished wood and she had demanded the emblematic S to be carved in silver right above where Kara’s head would be, if they had an actual body to bury.

For now, it was covered with the american flag because the whole army was there to accompany National City’s most beloved hero to her last home. Ranks and ranks of soldiers in uniform and standing to attention were bordering the avenue as they slowly progressed toward the cemetery. The cavalry was here too, the horses walking in perfect synchronization, spread on three lines, ahead of the carriage supporting the coffin.

Lucy Lane, in full General outfit, was walking to her right and Lois was next to Carter, alone while Superman was hovering above their heads, silent tears rolling down his cheeks. Winn, James and Alex were walking on the same line, on Lucy’s side, flanked with Eliza Danvers, Hank Henshaw and Olivia Marsdin. They were followed by a whole crowd of allies, from Lena Luthor to the owner of the dive alien bar where Supergirl had been spotted a few times, aka M'gann M'orzz, a white martian who had somehow became a friend along the years. There was a whole group of firemen and policemen lost in the ranks of some of the most eminent people in the world, here to pay their respects to a hero who always had the utmost faith in Humanity. Aside from the sounds of heavy footsteps and occasional cries and sniffles, the low beats of the military drums was the only noise to be heard, sometimes troubled by the distant rolling of the thunder.

At the cemetery gates, the people stopped and only a few dozen of individuals were allowed inside, following the coffin that had been transferred from the carriage to the shoulders of military men. Winn, James and Hank had asked to be allowed to carry the empty casket of their friend but the president denied it, saying it would be too much of a hint leading to Supergirl’s real identity. Cat had wanted to scream but even Hank eventually agreed with Olivia.

Carter sniffed next to her and she pulled him closer to her, moving her hand to slide an arm across his shoulder, holding her son tight. She absentmindedly realized she was trying to comfort him as much as she needed his support to not fall apart.

They placed the casket on the rostrum that would go down below earth at the end of the ceremony.

Cat swallowed, feeling like this funeral was a joke and a tragedy at once. They weren’t burying Supergirl but her hopes to ever see the hero again. It was a symbolic gesture she would rather not be doing but for the whole city, for the whole world, for those she had to share Supergirl with, she would manage. If not for them, she would get to the end of the day for Carter because he had already lost the closest person to him after her and she would not let him drown in his grief alone.

The eulogy was simple but beautiful and she silently cried as she heard the testimonies of a handful of people praising Supergirl.

The president finally stepped in front of the coffin to speak.

“It is a sad day for the world and for National City especially, for we are gathered here to mourn our most beloved hero. The girl of Steel and the last daughter of Krypton, also known as Supergirl, was a force of good and a symbol of hope, saving people every day and protecting them from any kind of threat that would come its way. She was a survivor and yet, she was bright and full of faith and optimism. I don’t have the right words to express how deeply I am going to miss her so I will borrow the words of someone else. This is a poem written by Wystan Hugh Auden …”

As much as she wanted to, Cat wasn’t crying for the hero. She was crying for someone whom she had loved too deeply for her soul to fully take in what death meant. She was crying for Kara, the woman she had gotten used to have around, first as an assistant, then as a confident, as a friend, as a close friend and eventually, she had allowed them to become something far more precious than she had ever imagined they would be. A couple, a powerful one but a loving one, everything she had craved for years and never found in the embraces of the men she had chosen along the years. She was grieving for warm skin, a bumbling voice, a sunny smile and a love that could bend whole galaxies in whatever shapes she had wanted.

“Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone, Silence the pianos and with muffled drum, bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.”

She was grieving Kara.

Not Kara Danvers, the perfect assistant and the rising star of journalism, the cool sister and the even cooler friend. Not Kara Zor-El, the last heir of a planet that had been reduced to less than dust, the haunted woman full of words no one could fully understand nor reproduce. Not Supergirl, the superhero that had saved the day more than once, risking her life each time to protect the people living on this planet she had chosen to call home.

No, she was mourning all of them and none at once, she was mourning someone the world didn’t know.

“The stars are not wanted now: put out every one; pack up the moon and dismantle the sun; Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood … For nothing now can ever come to any good.”

At the end of the service, they retrieved the flag.

It was another symbolic gesture that didn’t mean anything to her but she allowed it, for the sake of everyone else. She knew the power of symbols and she wouldn’t take them away from those who needed it.

They folded the flag with care and respect, following the sound of cannons and rifles going off.

She swallowed hard and almost broke down when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Hank was there, strong and tall and apparently stoic but his eyes were swirling with every emotion he wasn’t showing. It was sadness, hurt and despair and she buried her face in his shoulder, allowing herself to cry because she was nowhere as strong as he was and her whole body was aching with grief. She felt it right into her bones, digging even deeper to reach her soul and she clung to Carter’s hand, trying to ground herself somehow.

It didn’t last and she was able to recompose herself quickly, under the worried scrutiny of the Lane sisters.

Superman flew down next to his cousin’s empty casket and he landed softly on the grass, looking at the silver S on display. Cat watched as he traced the edge of the symbol with his fingers, whispering words in a language she had heard a few times when Kara would feel the need to remember Krypton. He looked broken, shoulders hunched, cheeks ravaged with tear stains and even his dark curls were flat on his head as he finished saying the prayers of his world.

A world that was gone, once more, for he was truly the last son of Krypton.

—

The day had dragged on and on and she couldn’t remember everything. All she knew is she and her son had been cared for all along. She remembered Lucy bringing her a cup of coffee, spiced with a few fingers of bourbon if the weird taste had been anything to go by. Lois had kept company to Carter, Clark joining her a little later after the service, in his plain, civilian clothes.

Alex even managed to give her a hug, a tight, desperate one and she had reveled into the embrace before letting go. Eliza had gone silent since the day they had declared Kara dead but she had grabbed Cat’s hand and squeezed it. Cat knew it had been meant as a gesture of comfort but she felt it like another dent in the coffin of her rotten hopes.

In the end, she found herself sitting on her couch, in her living room. Carter had passed out a few hours ago and Clark had carried him to his bed, gently, softly, with a reverence in his eyes that had made Cat want to scream again because at this exact moment, he had looked so much like Kara.

She watched the images flicker on the TV, a muted replay of the funerals.

Somehow, it didn’t really hurt to look at it from a camera angle. It was as if she was simply witnessing it from a CEO point of view, taking in the excellent quality, the elaborated rhythm and the expert transitions. It was almost soothing, to slip into her work persona for a few minutes.

“Cat?” Lois gently asked, sitting down next to her. Cat registered the dipping of the cushion, the new weight at her side but she didn’t turn her head, still mentally criticizing the work of her CatCo crew.

“Cat. Please, say something.” Lois whispered and she hesitantly reached out to take Cat’s hand.

Cat recoiled from the contact and moved her hand away. She wasn’t ready for everyone to soothe her, even though she was certain she couldn’t survive the night.

Not when she finally knew Kara wasn’t coming back. Ever.

The realization suddenly came to her, full force, and it took her breath away before she broke down into muffled sobs and silent cries, bringing a hand in front of her mouth in a gesture of terror for what the revelation unveiled.

Kara was gone.

—

Days bled into weeks and slowly, into months.

Summer went away and the bright colors of autumn took over, hurting Cat’s eyes every time the light would bask her office with the strands of gold that reminded her too much of Kara’s hair.

Carter’s grades dropped drastically and he was fighting all the time now. She finally resolved to bring him to therapy but she still refused external help for herself. She wasn’t ready to share her memories of Kara with anyone, especially not a professional stranger.

Winter came around and Carter asked to spend Christmas with his father. Cat couldn’t even blame him, she knew he wanted to avoid the penthouse and the happy memories of the previous Christmas they had spent with Kara.

She arranged for Carter’s father to come pick him up at the penthouse a few days before the 25th. Christopher had been nothing but compliant ever since Kara’s death and she was mad at him for the timing he chose to be a better father.

Carter came back for New Year’s Eve and they went to Alex’s to celebrate it.

Alex and Lucy had finally let go of all their doubts and fears and they had moved in together at the beginning of winter. Cat knew, first hand, that wasn’t easy but somehow they managed, despite the fact Alex was drinking too much and Lucy was getting lost in her work too often, taking unnecessary risks.

Everyone was here, even Lois and Clark and Cat couldn’t exactly avoid them this time. Lois chastised her for not answering her calls and Clark stayed silent but he rolled his eyes at some point and the annoyance in the gesture almost made Cat smile. Almost.

The new year started with a bunch of half-hearted happy new years and then everyone went home.

Winter left and spring brought its fair share of grey, rainy days.

Carter began to heal a little, not getting into as many fights and working on his grades. He was silent now, more shell-locked than he ever was but Cat assumed it was a step up from all the anger he had carried around since last summer.

The beginning of summer brought back the usual heat waves and the flowery dresses and as the anniversary of Supergirl’s death drawn upon everyone, Cat became even more impossible than she usually was. She snapped at her new assistant without any apparent reason but she couldn’t stand the girl’s daffodil yellow dress, it was too close to something Kara wore once, on that weird day when she had awkwardly tried to pass off The Flash as her cousin.

A memorial ceremony was given in honor of the fallen hero and the mayor unveiled a statue that was so realistic it gave Cat a hysteric attack. She had to be checked into a hospital but she walked out barely an hour after having been brought in. She hated hospitals.

Lois picked her up and brought her back to the penthouse, without a word.

Eventually, summer ended.

—

Cat had come to hate her bed and she usually tried to spend as little time as possible in it but tonight, she was exhausted.

She was tired of getting barely any sleep, of having to deal with people all day long and of living in a state of missing Kara. She couldn’t even deny that’s how she’s been since the funeral because it was the truth. She missed Kara.

Every minute of every hour of every day, she was acutely aware of the bottomless hole in her heart, where Kara’s love used to be.

Unable to sleep but too tired to fight her body, she was sitting in bed against the pillow, typing at her ipad and trying to get the japanese CatCo crisis sorted. A chief editor made a huge mistake on the cover of this month’s magazine and it provoked a diplomatic incident worse than the time she refused to shake Donald Trump’s hand when she met him at the white house a few months ago. Once upon a time, she would have been beyond furious about such incompetence coming from her employees but in all honesty, today she was just welcoming the distraction without temper or tantrum.

She was finishing off an email for the CatCo Japan head of HR when something literally crashed into her bay windows, landing in a rain of glass shards on the rug at the feet of the bed.

She screamed and jumped out of the bed to run towards the door leading to the hallway, wanting to grab Carter and to put him somewhere safe. She was about to step onto the broken glass to get to the door when she glanced at what had made such damages.

She stopped dead in her tracks, her heart missing a few beats as she took in the blue suit, the red cape and equally crimson boots, the sunkissed curls and the ocean deep blue eyes.

There were scars all over Kara’s face, marring her features with red and white as it glowed a little under the dim light of the bed stand lamp, and she began to bleed from her nose before she slumped over the floor, desperately trying to maintain contact with Cat’s eyes.

She drowned in those ocean blue eyes she thought she would never see again and she saw apologies, regrets, doubts, pain and love. So much of it, she almost choked on all the love she could see swirling in the baby blue irises that threatened to close any second now.

It felt as if suddenly, the world was right again.

Only to get even worse when Kara suddenly passed out on the rug, bleeding as she lay in a sea of a broken glass.

—

Alex’s team was there within twenty minutes after Cat called and they took Kara away, transferring her body onto a hand-barrow bed and ushering her up to the roof through the elevator. Cat and Carter got in the chopper with Alex and the medical team, Carter holding his mother’s hand so tight she could feel her fingers become numb from the lack of blood but she didn’t say anything, using the touch to ground herself while her eyes never left Kara’s form.

The suit was ripped open across Kara’s abs, revealing some ugly infected wounds, a sleeve was missing, exposing an arm that had been burned, and the skirt showed multiples holes, burn marks and scrapes. They put an oxygen mask on her mouth and nose but even with it, the barely healed cracks on Kara’s face were impressives.

She wasn’t healing.

—

Alex ran a battery of tests as fast as she could before saying they needed to operate to remove the traces of residual kryptonite lodged around her heart, the ones that caused the lack of healing.

Everyone immediately fell into action. Alex prepared the medical team, Hank went somewhere else to be an active Director and Cat started pacing the floor outside the medical bay. Carter was asleep in a makeshift bed Hank had brought for him and she was glad he wasn’t awake to watch her dig a hole in the concrete floor of the DEO.

Lucy came running half an hour later, panting but already asking too many question at once and Cat snapped at her, cutting her off before apologizing. She was feeling exhausted and yet she was too jittery, nervous, anxious even and the mix of those feelings rendered her unable to act properly. She tried to answer Lucy’s question but she kept trailing off and losing her train of thought because she had too many questions of her own.

“She’s gonna be fine. She made it back to you … She’s gonna be fine.” Lucy offered with a smile and the bags under her eyes made her look terribly old, under the unflattering neon light of the DEO.

“She was covered in scars and she started bleeding, Alex said she has some residual kryptonite in the tissues around her heart but she … she flew through my window, breaking it before landing near the bed and … Where had she been? How could she fly with kryptonite in her system? Why didn’t she try to reach out sooner?” Cat asked, frustration overlooking both the fear and the relief she was feeling at the idea of Kara being on the operation table.

She was caught between so many contradictory emotions it was a wonder she was still able to just function. She was over the moon that Kara was back but she was terrorized she was finally going to lose her for good. She was angry because of all the unanswered questions swirling in her head, spinning around like a litany she couldn’t get rid of and she was exhausted, she felt it right into her bones. Her very soul was heavy with fatigue and emotional abuse and her heart was beating too fast in her chest, so fast it physically hurt.

She was used to high pressure, to stress and to go on on little sleep but this, this was too much even for her. She wanted the world to stop for a while, to allow her to breathe and to rest before going all crazy on her again.

Lucy didn’t even try to answer any of the questions Cat had just asked. Instead, she sat down on one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs some agents brought when Hank ordered it.

She stayed there, quiet but awake, as Cat resumed her pacing.

—

Alex came out of the medical bay about three hours later, fatigue clear on her face as she staggered towards the little group of people gathered at the end of the hallway.

Winn and James had joined Cat, Lucy and Carter in the improvised waiting room and everyone looked up at Alex when they heard her footsteps.

The older Danvers immediately spoke, not letting anyone try to guess from what they could read on her features.

“She’s going to be alright. She fought, hard, she flatlined twice but we were able to remove all the remaining kryptonite from her body and blood. She’s in a coma now, too weak and vulnerable for us to do much now but we are going to put her under a sun powered lamp to heal the most important wounds. Then, I think it would be best to move her out under the actual sun, it’s more powerful than anything we were able to invent here to imitate its regenerating powers.” Alex explained, trying to be thorough as she elaborated on every details.

Cat stayed silent, her mind still reeling from the fact Kara’s heart had stopped. Twice.

“Is there any … indication, of what had happened to her?” Lucy softly asked, coming to stand next to her girlfriend to wrap an arm around her waist, silently inviting the older Danvers to lean on her.

“I don’t know exactly. I gathered that she must have been under the sun at least enough time for her powers to allow her to fly to National City but given the amount of Kryptonite we removed from her system, it’s truly incredible, bordering impossible. Her body is covered with scars and if most of them are healed, there are a whole bunch that need immediate treatment. Her lungs must have been crushed during the explosion, they are nowhere fully healed but it must have been enough to allow her to breath on her own … I didn’t have time to do a full, extensive check up so that’s all I know so far.” The older Danvers said, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath to steady her thoughts.

Carter jumped down from the bed he had been sleeping in for the past few hours.

“Can we see her?” He asked and he sounded so small, so vulnerable and so unsure it made Cat’s heart hurt. She moved behind him to put her hands onto his shoulders and he didn’t try to escape the contact. He even leaned a little against her, seeking support and warmth, reassurance.

“Yes, but she’s hooked up to a lot of machines and she’s not responsive, for now. Follow me.” Alex answered with a very thin smile, before turning on her heels to lead them into the medical bay.

James, Winn and Lucy stayed back, giving Cat and Carter some time alone with Kara.

—

Four days later and after a huge argument between Cat, Alex, Lucy and Hank, they finally moved a still comatose Kara into Cat’s beach house, settling her up in a bedroom that had a huge bay window overlooking the ocean and a balcony more than wide enough to welcome Kara’s medical bed.

Time moved slowly, ever so slowly, from that day on.

Kara was constantly basking in the sunlight, from the moment the sun was up and until the night reclaimed the world but she wasn’t waking up.

Aside from the slow fading of the scars across Kara’s face and body, there was no sign of improvement and Cat found very little comfort in the fact it wasn’t getting worse either.

Alex and Eliza were staying in the house as well, Cat gave them the guest rooms just next to Kara’s. As for Carter, he refused to go to school and she reluctantly gave up on the idea of making him go anyway.

Lucy would stop by once or twice a day, sometimes with Winn and James and sometimes alone.

A week went by and more than ever, Cat felt herself drown in her overwhelming feelings.

—

Carter was reading a chapter of Harry Potter out loud to Kara, sat on a chair beside the medical bed on the balcony, when he heard a familiar voice.

“You need a haircut.”

He dropped the book and jumped to his feet, his heart racing frantically in his chest. He turned his head so fast he almost got whiplash but then, he found a pair of ocean deep blue eyes staring at him, soft and sweet and with just a hint of sheepish humor.

“Kara!” He breathed, still not believing it was real.

Reaching out a shaky hand, he gently grabbed Kara’s and when he felt warm fingers squeeze his, he finally bursted into tears, burying his face into the superhero’s shoulder as he let go of a year of grief, anger and emptiness.

“I got you buddy.” Kara whispered into his ear and he felt an arm squeeze his shoulders.

The sound of broken glass caught both their attention and they looked up to see Cat, standing in the opening of the bay window, a hand over her mouth, eyes filled with relief and surprise and a puddle of the shattered remaining of a vase, water and flowers at her feet.

“Mom! She’s awake!” Carter stated the obvious, the happiness in his voice echoing in the air of the soft autumn afternoon.

Cat stepped over the flower and broken glass to come stand on the other side of the bed, eyes roaming over Kara’s face but then she let out a small sob and smiled.

“It was about time.” She managed to croak, trying to sound annoyed but not able to hide her relief any longer.

Kara arched a brow, unimpressed, before smiling and oh, how she had missed that smile. It was the sun itself radiating in a simple gesture and she bent over to kiss her, needing to know it was real, that it wasn’t another dream, that she wouldn’t wake up alone and crying.

It tasted like honey and life and Cat sobbed against Kara’s lips, moving her hands to cradle her lover’s cheeks and keep her close.

“That’s still gross, you know.” Carter’s voice echoed near them and they broke off the kiss to laugh at the familiarity of it all.

As Cat sat down on the edge of the bed, keeping Kara’s hand into her own, she realized she would never take any of this for granted anymore.

—

Alex brought Kara back to the DEO to run some tests, to make sure she was out of the woods for good.

Cat went with them, after having dropped off Carter to school.

He fought against her when she told him he needed to get back but Kara had gently asked him to, promising she would come to pick him up and that’s all it took.

“So. What happened to you? Where were you, for the past twelve months or so?” Alex asked as she fussed over her alien sister to monitor her heartbeat. Her voice was clipped and blunt, Cat almost winced at the harsh tone but she could relate. Everyone needed answers.

“It’s … I don’t have everything pieced back together yet.” Kara started, her brow furrowed into a frown as she tried to focus. “The blast of the explosion was so powerful it catapulted me halfway across the globe and I’m barely exaggerating. I vaguely remember crashing into the water, the ocean surely because there was salt and it made my whole body burn … I think at this point, I was barely alive and definitely powerless.”

Cat moved to come sit by Kara’s bed, reached out to grab her hand and squeezing it, offering comfort as much as she anchored herself to the reality of the hero’s return. She still had trouble believing it was real and she often needed to touch Kara, to make sure it wasn’t a dream.

“I … don’t know exactly how but somehow, someone found me and pulled me out of the water, dragged me on a shore and after the salt, it was the sand that added to my suffering and I probably passed out.” Kara breathed, letting Alex use a kryptonite modified needle to take her blood.

“I woke up … six months later, in a bed carved into the stone of a beautiful cave. I think, the lack of sunlight is what caused my body to shut down to preserve what was left of life in me … There was a woman, taking care of me. It took me a week to stop dozing in and off, to really focus on her and she spoke a language that, even me, I had never heard. It sounded … mythic, somehow. As in a language made for gods only, soft and sweet and it was like hearing a song lost in my memory …” Kara smiled softly and Cat tilted her head, curious but silent.

“I realized I couldn’t speak but she didn’t seem to mind and I swear, it’s going to sound silly but I swear she could read the words in my eyes because, she was answering me, my questions, my doubts, filling me in on to what had happened to me and how badly I was hurt. First in her language and then in English …” Kara trailed off and a pained expression twisted her soft features.

“She was pure and kind, truly. I was so weak … She told me my body was still glowing with a green substance and she had no idea how to remove it. I figured it was the results of the enhanced Valeronian blowing himself up … It took three months for her to finally get rid of most of the residual Kryptonite and eventually, she brought me outside the cave and into the sun. I was so weak and exhausted, I couldn’t stand by myself so she took it upon her to lay me out on the shore, near the ocean, for a few hours each day. I wasn’t healing properly, I could feel it. That’s how I knew there was still Kryptonite in my body, inside, out of reach. It makes total sense because I breathed in the cloud of the explosion and it must have gotten in my lungs or something …” Kara trailed off again and Alex nodded.

“The tissues around your heart, actually. It’s truly a wonder you survived for so long in that state.”

Kara winced but didn’t answer immediately. When she spoke again, her tone was slow and low.

“Eventually, I was able to speak again and we talked. She told me her name, when I finally asked for it. Diana, and I was on the island of Themyscira.”

Alex frowned and Cat blinked a few times, unsure if she could say something.

“Hum, Kara, that … It doesn’t exist. I mean, my knowledge of the world is not impeccable but I’m pretty sure that island doesn’t exist anywhere on the surface of Earth.” Alex finally said and Kara simply smiled to her.

“I know. It’s … well hidden from the world and for good reasons. I lost track of time there, but I knew that I needed to come home. Since the island is … isolated, to say the least, I had no choice but to fly. At some point, I thought I had gathered enough power … I wasn’t entirely sure I could do it but I had to try. I bid my goodbyes and I flew. Until … I crashed into Cat’s bay window.” Kara finished and in her baby blue eyes, there was a longing Cat didn’t know how to read.

Alex was staring at her sister , skeptical but silent. She stayed quiet while finishing running the tests on Supergirl and in the end, she sat down on the edge of the bed and sighed.

“I’m … I thought you were dead. For a whole year, I thought you were dead, we had a funeral, a memorial ceremony even … I … “ Alex trailed off, her voice breaking and tears shining in her eyes.

“I know, I am so sorry, Alex.” Kara whispered, reaching out to hug her sister and Alex sagged against Kara’s shoulder, finally allowing herself to cry.

It wasn’t going to be easy, Cat thought, but it was a start.

—

“How exactly are you going to reintroduce yourself to the world?” Carter asked and his question, in appearance innocence, made everyone stop what they were doing.

The whole group of friends and family was gathered in the living room of the beach house, a week after the all clear from Alex.

Winn and James, sat on opposite couches, were teasing Kara about all the movies and shows she had missed on during the previous year. Eliza, Alex, Clark and M’gann were animatedly talking about aliens related sciences and religions, gathered in the armchairs on the porch, just outside of the bay window and Hank would occasionally chime in but he was content to stay silent. Lucy, Lois and Cat were coming back from the kitchen with drinks and appetizers for everyone when Carter, who was sitting next to Kara, had spoke.

“What do you mean buddy?” Kara said, tilting her head to the side as she looked at him with a questioning look.

“I mean, Supergirl died at the same time as Kara Danvers, a little over a year ago. It will be suspicious if they suddenly both return from the dead at the same time. Are you seriously saying you didn’t think about it?” The disbelief in the teenager’s voice echoed across the silent room.

“Actually … I didn’t? It’s been a busy couple of weeks lately and … I didn’t think about it no.” Kara slowly replied, frowning at the realization she hadn’t thought about Supergirl since she woke up.

No one was talking in the room around them and Carter looked at each of their face with surprise.

“Seriously?” He snorted and his face hardened, fear and anger suddenly exploding in his deep blue eyes.

Cat chose that moment to jump in, voice soft and clear.

“Well, I never explicitly said Kara Danvers died. As far as everyone is concerned, she was reported missing while following a lead for that mafia case Snapper ordered you to drop just before the alien bombing …The police considers it’s a cold case but I’m sure detective Sawyer can be persuaded to make something up …”

Carter’s eyes snapped up to meet hers.

“That’s fine and all but what happens when Supergirl show up in the sky the same day Kara returns to CatCo?”

“What if … “ Kara replied and she looked unsure for a few seconds. Taking a deep breath, she smiled at Carter and finished her sentence. “What if Supergirl didn’t return? At least … at least for a while? I mean … National City survived without me for over a year. A few month or more won’t make too much of a difference, right?”

Cat’s breath hitched and she almost dropped the bowl of chips she was holding, flooded with surprise and hope as she searched for Kara’s eyes. The smile on the hero’s face told her everything she needed to know and she returned the gesture.

“I … I think … I’d like that.” Carter answered after a while, a smile slowly gracing his lips as he moved to hug Kara.

—

“Did you mean it?” Cat asked in the darkness of the bedroom, Kara’s arms wrapped around her and holding her close.

“I did. I do.” Kara answered without a trace of hesitation, her breath landing on Cat’s naked shoulder, making her shudder.

“You’re going to miss it, being Supergirl.” Cat whispered softly, knowing her lover by heart.

“I know. I never said it was a forever kind of arrangement, though. Someday, I will return to being Supergirl, National City champion but for now, I’m happy to be just Kara Danvers.” The hero replied and Cat shuddered again when she felt Kara’s lips on her skin, at the back of her neck.

“I’m still angry at you.” Cat’s tone was serious and lined with the remnants of her fears.

“I know and it’s okay. Carter told me the same thing and even though Alex is trying to act as if everything was alright, I know it’s not. It will take time, for us to heal.” Kara’s voice sounded a little distant but confident, betraying her bubbly, optimistic nature that the events of the past year didn’t seem to alter.

“It’s not your fault, we all know that but … “ Cat tried to justify her anger, feeling a little guilty for putting Kara through this but she couldn’t help it.

“I know.” Kara simply said and Cat sighed when the hero’s arms closed a little tighter around her silhouette, breathing in the familiar scent and relaxing against the warm, soft skin.

The brush of sunkissed curls upon her shoulder was the last thing she felt before she fell asleep.

#supercat #sentences prompt #kara x cat #supercat fic #supercat ficlet #supercat fanfic #supergirl fic #supergirl fanfic #supercat prompt #alex danvers #lucy lane #alex x lucy #carter grant #angst with a happy ending #angst #nascar anon

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madeline-kahn · 8 years ago

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A look behind the curtain: Score/Soundtrack Sets

I thought, for no particular reason, that I’d talk a little bit about how I make my film score gifsets.

This isn’t really much of a tutorial, because honestly there’s not a whole lot to these sets that needs to be tutored. It’s not a matter of techniques so much as it is a matter of just a lot of decisions and planning. This is kind of just me way over-elaborating on the various decisions and approaches that I take to working on them! This might be very long and occasionally seem like I’m complaining because it’s hard work, but honestly I do it because I enjoy the work that I put into it. If it was really too much, I could just stop.

[Warning: this is about 4000 words. You don’t really have to read it]

How I Got Started

The first time I made a gifset for a film score was for Steve Jobs. I was making sets devoted to my favorite things about the movie and I loved the score, so I figured the best way to visually depict that was the title of each track over the corresponding scene. At the time this ended up being one of the hardest sets for me. I wanted so badly to do each song justice that for some of the songs I picked multiple shots that I wanted to use and faded them together. I did this without being mindful of the fact that I would need to pair up all but two gifs. This gif was one of the only times that I paired them vertical, which I kept screwing up by pairing the wrong ones. After I was done I noticed that a lot of my labels didn’t even line up, so it was all a very frustrating process.

The set didn’t get a lot of notes because it wasn’t good or particularly popular. I saw a similar style set for Carol and decided to try to do it for more movies. It took awhile for me to perfectly settle on a style, but eventually I set on it being my thing.

Picking A Score

This sounds like an unbelievably easy step, more so than it ends up being. Sure, sometimes it’s pretty simple or straightforward. There have been a fair number of scores that I’ve known immediately that I want to gif, that it only became a question of when and how (Arrival, La La Land, Moonlight, Jackie are all examples)

I consider a few factors when deciding whether I want to gif a certain film score. One pretty important factor is scores that are good or that I like. Even if I just like a few tracks that could be good enough. It’s also kind of helpful not just to have scores I like but ones that other people like. This is definitely where I listen to requests from other people, I look at what people have said their favorites are, and it never hurts to rely on the Oscar nominees and winners in this department either.

I tend to prioritize movies by how popular they are. Some of my favorite scores I still haven’t made gifs of yet because they just won’t be very popular. Even popular movies don’t necessarily have popular scores. And to be honest, I don’t expect score sets to ever get a lot of notes. I know that they’re not always the most visually appealing (although I do try my best to make them so) and that they often require a much deeper interest in the movie than a regular set would. Take for example, my gifset of the score of True Grit versus my regular 8 gif set of True Grit. The regular set has roughly five times the notes that the score set does. That’s roughly the ratio I’d expect for any set I make. So that forces me to ask myself at any point if I like an unpopular score/movie enough to spend several hours on it and get not very many notes.

And then the last thing I look at is a matter of trying to predict the rest of the process. I might look at the titles of the track and try to mentally figure out how hard this is going to be this involves a few things, all of which I’ll elaborate on later:

Is the album on Spotify?

Do the tracks (on Spotify, Wikipedia, Amazon, etc) appear to be in order?

Are the names interesting?

Do their names indicate what scene they appear in?

Will the number of tracks fit into a set?

Does the number of tracks split nicely into rows for a set?

Are tracks single titles as opposed to being paired up (i.e. are they two parters written as “Part A/Part B”) or even tripled?

Now the answers to these questions varies all over the place and there’s not necessarily a certain number that I need to decide to do it. But it is nice to have at least one yes. And for example, take the score for Arrival. It is on Spotify, the tracks were not in order, not terribly interesting, somewhat indicated the scene but not always, did fit in a set, did split into rows nicely, and were single titles. So while it’s about half yes and half no I decided to do it, but mostly because I liked the score and it’s a pretty popular and well liked film, so why not!

Finding the Tracks in the Movie

Sometimes I merge this step with the step of actually picking the shots and collecting the frames for the gifs. But regardless of whether I multitask the finding and the collecting, figuring out the tracks is crucial and sometimes very hard.

In a perfect world, with a perfect score and movie it could be really easy. I mentioned earlier that I try to estimate whether the tracks on the album are in the order they would be in the movie, that goes a long way to figuring out when they play. Likewise, if the title describes or relates to the scene in some clear way. For example; one of the easiest scores for this step was Brooklyn. The titles aren’t anything special, but they perfectly describe a single scene and the tracks on Spotify are all in order. A fair number of scores are at least somewhat helpful with their titles and sequencing.

Regardless of how easy or hard it is I usually try to watch the movie and every time I hear music playing, I try to figure out which track it is. I do this by trying to play the song and once I hear a bit that sounds like what I heard in the movie, I’ll play a couple more seconds. Then I pause the song and play a couple seconds of the movie and try to hear the same thing I heard in the song. I do this back and forth until I can be reasonably confident. When I do this what I’m hoping to hear is something distinct that can make me absolutely sure, like a specific melody that happens at the exact same point on both. Then I either write down a note with the song and the scene or skip to the step of picking the shot and collecting the frames.

So what if it is hard? Well in that case I have a number of options that I can consider. The least fun of the options is just keep trying on my own until I get it. That was the solution when working on Arrival. I REALLY struggled to figure out where Xenoanthropology and Xenolinguistics played; the names are kind of vague, the Arrival soundtrack is very out of order in some places, and some of the songs sound quite similar. But I ended up just playing sections of the movie over and over listening for the track I needed until I got it.

The most desperate option is just leave the track out of the set altogether. This was the unfortunate case for my The Neon Demon set. There were some tracks on the album that not only could I not really find in the movie, in some cases they sounded nothing like the scene they described. I cut a fair number, guessed that it may have been due to how the movie was edited (as opposed to my fault), and hoped nobody noticed. You didn’t, did you?

Luckily sometimes I can get some help! No, I don’t mean from friends, they’ve never been helpful :). There are a few websites that serve to identify songs used in movies and (occasionally) have the scene that they play during. I primarily use what-song.com and tunefind.com. Often I find what-song more helpful for score and tunefind more helpful for soundtracks (what-song has been very helpful for Black Swan and True Grit and tunefind was extremely helpful with American Honey).

Next, I’ll look at youtube. I’ll search on youtube for the track title and find any videos with the song, especially ones with a lot of views. Then I look through the comments for any mention of a scene. Sometimes I’ll get very lucky where somebody will ask in the comments what scene it plays during and somebody else will give an answer. Other times people will comment with quotes or moments that happened during the song. (Such as “you can hear at 2:35 when this cool thing happens”). That’s a very helpful approach for major franchise and action movies like Rogue One and Captain America: Civil War and even some more classic movies like Pride & Prejudice.

So what if the film music websites aren’t working and youtube came up with nothing? Well at that point I’ll keep googling. I’ll try googling things like “[movie title] [track title] scene” or “what scene does [track title] play in [movie title]”. A lot of times I come up with nothing. But I can get lucky sometimes and come up with something. Some of the fortunate searches have turned up with forum questions for more popular movies like Interstellar and Titanic. I got absolutely blessed with Inglourious Basterds; in the FAQ on IMDB was every song on the soundtrack and the corresponding scene. They basically did this step for me! I don’t usually get that lucky though.

Picking the Shots

So now that I finally know when the song plays, it’s time to pick and collect the frames for each gif. This is relatively straightforward. And in many ways similar to picking shots for any gifset, but there are a few added considerations.

The first thing to consider is whether I’ll be grouping this gif with any others, which is necessary at some point for any set that is more than 10 tracks. Typically if I’m going to pairing or tripling gifs, I try to make them the same number of frames from the beginning. So for example if I know I have 20 tracks in the album, I’m going to need 10 rows of two which means every gif is going to be paired with another. In this case I’ll try to stick to a number of frames that (I hope) will fit under the tumblr size limit when paired with another. Typically that’s around 40-50.

I also want to be somewhat deliberate about what shot I use. Of course, like any gif, I want something that’s aesthetically pleasing in any way, including all my personal preferences and quirks. But more than just that, I want something that in some way indicates the song (unless the song title is entirely irrelevant). I don’t usually like gifs where you can see people talking since I think it looks weird, but occasionally I’ll make an exception if someone is saying the title of the track. If I’m smart, I’d also be mindful of the fact that I need to put text over the center of the gif and plan accordingly. I’m not usually smart. I’ve had incidents where I’ve had to reselect or recrop a gif because the text was completely covering up the only good thing in the shot.

Finding the Right Font

This is probably my favorite step! Because for one thing, it’s the step that makes what I work on the most unique to me. To put it really simply: I like to use a font that’s in the movie. Of course this can have many options. Some movies use the same font all over the movie (e.g. Arrival pretty heavily uses Gotham and 20th Century Women used News Gothic except for where it appears custom made), so that makes my decision pretty simple and I might play around a little bit with size, weight, and spacing. But other times there are a few different options; the poster, the opening credits, closing credits, titles within the movie, etcetera.

I don’t always make the decision the exact same way every time. It all depends on what my options are and how I think they’d look. I like fonts that might be unique to the specific movie and have some distinct character. This is why I used a kind of bigger and bolder font for Captain America: Civil War as opposed to the more plain and simple font that was used for the (big ass) location titles.

Sometimes one place has a really common font (e.g. Trajan or Futura), I’ll opt for the other font. This was the case for Black Swan and Brooklyn.

In some cases, I tend to prefer the fonts used in the film opening/closing/intermediate titles since that has a more similar usage to what I’m using it for as well (text on the screen, perhaps even over video as opposed to large and on a poster). For example, with Moonlight there were nice fonts in the title card (Impact) and poster (Gotham), but the font for the act titles and credits (Times New Roman) seemed particularly useful.

But it can go the other way as well. The Man From UNCLE font within the movie is bigger and blockier and actually the same font that I used for Inglourious Basterds. But I really liked the sans serif font on the posters instead, so I used that.

A brief aside on how to actually find the specific title of the font. In general I start by googling phrases like “[movie title] movie font” or “[title] poster font” or “[title] credits font” and see what I get. There are a number of websites that come up frequently that I end up relying on: AllMovieFonts, FontFeed, FontMeme, FontsInUse, DaFont, WhatTheFont Forum, etc. If I can’t find the font through those means, upload a sample to a font identification engine (WhatTheFont, fontspring.com, fontsquirrel.com) and use whatever appears to be the nearest match to the letters I have available.

This can be rather difficult for certain kinds of fonts. Script fonts can be difficult because the letters run together so much that the website can process the separate letter. This was the case for the La La Land script font used in the credits. In order to make it work, I tried to crop just the capital letters where they were clear enough from the rest and then using the potential fonts that I got as a result I visually compared the rest of the letters.

But there may be no font. A fair number of old movies were before fonts exist. If I’m lucky, like for Jaws or The Godfather, somebody’s made a font themselves based on the letters used in the movies. This is also the case for some disney movies (Frozen, Zootopia, Moana) where the font was custom made for the movie and then a fan made an imitation font. However for other old movies (e.g. Singin’ in the Rain) there’s no specific font available, so I just try to find something that looks close using the websites with the matching engines.

There’s also a similar problem where the title was intentionally made to look handmade (e.g. Swiss Army Man). In this case, I’ll look for handwriting looking fonts that look similar enough, usually just via google.

Of course I’m limited by what is actually available. Sometimes I can easily find the font name but can’t find it available for free. This, sadly, happened with The Neon Demon. I had no trouble finding the font used (Vanitas Bold) as it was on several websites. But I looked super hard and couldn’t find that font, so I had to try to settle with a similar font that was nowhere near as pretty. I’m really disappointed about that still.

Making the Individual Gifs

This part is pretty straightforward gif making. I make all the gifs first before I add the titles. The only thing that is a little unique in this step is the dimensions. It all depends on the number of gifs that I have. There’s something of a flow chart approach for determining this.

If there are less than 10 gifs (or 11 where one is almost all black, as with Nocturnal Animals) I can make them full width (i.e. 540 px wide). However, with 8 or 10 gifs I may prefer to make them half width (i.e. 268 wide). Even numbers between 10 and 20 I’ll make half width, pairing up in one gif as necessary. (I’ve elaborated how to combine multiple gifs into one document a tutorial). Numbers between 21 and 30 that are divisible by three I’ll make third widths (i.e. 177 wide). Numbers that are still divisible by 2 or 3 but would require more than 10 rows of gifs, I can do (especially with the new gif limit) but it’s kind of hard and looks kind of ugly and I don’t love having to do this. Other numbers that are odd or prime I’ll usually make all half width except the odd one out that has to be full width… this looks ugly I kind of hate doing it.

Adding the Titles

This step isn’t a technically very hard one at all, but it can be a little challenging aesthetically. Once I’ve got all the base gifs done and I’ve picked the font I want to use, I begin adding the track names. However, I don’t just start with the first one. I find the longest track title and first add that one, so that I can size the font correctly that it can be consistent over all the gifs.

If possible I want to keep the title on one line, so I go as small as necessary to achieve that. If that’s just not possible to make it legible and one line at the same time, or there’s a giant discrepancy between largest and next largest title, I’ll try to just get the longest fitting comfortably on two lines (or three or four if I’m using small gifs and a bigger font, like in my La La Land set). This is a part that I really play by ear based on the font I’m using and the the titles in question. Just because I have a relatively thin font and short titles doesn’t mean I need to fill the entire screen with the words. There’s a balance of just how much space I want to use for the titles and it really varies from case to case. But in general, I first play around with the different lengths of titles and find a font size that satisfies all my requirements. I do this all on just the first gif until I’m satisfied and then I actually go about putting titles on all the gifs.

Text Effects

For every gif I have to pick a color. My default is usually white, but if the movie has some credits or titles in a different color, I might use that. For example, I used yellow for Slow West, red for Macbeth. But often times even the movie just uses white, so that’s what I stick with.

Sometimes movie posters do a simple yet nice looking effect where some of the words are in bold, which is relatively easy to imitate, like in The Man From Uncle.

To mimic a movie’s font even further than just the typeface I might try to copy the font decoration as well, especially since it’s rare that I get the chance to. For example, the Chicago poster font was in Futura, but black with a red shadow instead of just a color.

If the text that I’m mimicking from the movie is something other than standard white text I really try to have a little fun evoking that with colors and effects, some examples:

Chicago: black font with a red glow to look more like the movie poster, since the font was sort of plain on its own

Sing: to look like the poster, which was big letters with a lightbulb pattern and a brick red outline, I made a similar yellow and white pattern for the text color and used a 2-pixel red stroke.

True Grit: to look a little more like a western font in the poster, I added a slightly wider than usual stroke.

American Honey: Had to do a lot of tinkering to figure out how to make a psd to overlay an American Flag pattern over the text. I wish it had looked a little more faded and dusty like the poster, but I wasn’t able to achieve that and legibility at the same time.

Sometimes in order to increase legibility I have to use drop shadow. I used to never use it, then I started using it in almost all my sets, and now I’m trying to use it less again. My issue with it is that it’s kind of ugly in a lot of cases and it sometimes makes it look less like the movie in the process.

Grouping Gifs as Necessary

Now the last step is just combining the gifs into one document as necessary. I’ve done so many sets that need pairs that it’s become pretty much routine, I’ve even made my own actions so that it’s just a matter of clicking a couple buttons. Rows of three are only slightly harder than rows of two, but not significantly at all.

If I have to make any groups of 4 (e.g. my Moulin Rouge and Hidden Figures sets), I usually try to eyeball which ones will be easiest to do this with by adding up the file sizes in groups of 4 and then using the ones that are the closest to 3 MB.

Done

That’s sort of all of it. All that’s left is the uploading, and the tagging, and the waiting for it to get a disappointing number of notes. I’m kidding, I’m really excited when anybody at all likes my work.

If you made it all the way here--without just scrolling straight to the end to see where all this babbling was going--wow! Thank you! I really appreciate it! And if you have any questions I’m clearly more than happy to answer, but I like talking about this way too much :D

#long post #personal #there's not even picures

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