#let my baby walk in the sun again without ascension!!!

[shatouto]

random OC ask: what would your OC's ideal home be like? this can be as specific as inspirational pictures, or as general as the vibes they would like it to give off.

ooohhh cool question cool question

i've admittedly never thought of this bc lorame kinda lives a nomadic life, traveling with ilya to sell their stuff all the time. tho with all his childhood i think his ideal home would be.... cozy, close to nature, endearingly cluttered (rather than orderly but sterile).

it's gotta smell like buttery pastries in the morning and hearty stew in the evening, the kitchen is well stocked with food and well equipped with ceramics of all kinds. (some of them are misshapen 'rejects' from the batches he makes for sale, he calls them runts and he loves them dearly. not all of them are usable but they're cute decorative pieces otherwise)

and ofc it's not ideal home without his bestie ilya but let's not get too deep into that here 🥰

anyway bc i'm still severely brainwormed, i think lorame's idea of an ideal home used to include "lots of sunlight", but post-canon of bg3 he brings home a vampire spawn so that's out of question. he would settle for a rly cozy basement-type place full of soft magical light instead :)

#oc: lorame #he simps for astarion because I simp for astarion. simple as that #but also i simply think they should get astarion the cloak that hexxat wore in bg2 and supplement him with hill giant strength elixir #let my baby walk in the sun again without ascension!!!

[ancunincurator]

Some Astarion musings...

These are some headcanons I felt like jotting down. Feel free to discuss your own interpretations.

The second time he propositions you, I truly believe he is already into you. Not love, or anything close to it. But the way he lets you in on the game just feels like it's because you're not really part of it any more. I know some people view this as Astarion toying with you, being cruel and potentially mocking. And I definitely think he's playing with you, but to me it's because he enjoys your company and isn't really using these tricks on you any more, and trusts you enough to let you in on it. The way he reacts if you turn him down, admitting your time together was special to him. The way he says it's hard not to have fun with you when you play along with him. I don't think he realises how deeply he's started to fall into his own trap.

I think, if romanced, Astarion always intended to turn you once he ascended. Maybe not into his spawn, but he intended to grant you immortality. What drives him to desire ascension? Fear. What drives most of his actions and reactions? Yup, you guessed it. And while it was immensely brave to open himself up and enter a relationship, can you imagine the new layer of terror that comes with loving someone? To have something to lose when you've only ever had yourself to worry about? When you speak to him after his siblings attack the camp, he can say "I'm doing this for you too, you know. To make sure we're both safe. Forever. For good". He says it with such intention. Forever. For good. But you don't have forever together, not unless he can do something about it. Which also makes sense why AA sees you as a possession, because he ran away from that fear of losing you by making sure he gets to keep you forever. (Also, I don't think Astarion is manipulating you when he says he wants to ascend for you both. Though he does it plenty in act 3)

A silly one, but I've seen people say that the graveyard sex was a spontaneous moment of passion. However, when you ask him before you both leave for the graveyard if he's giving up on walking in the sun, he replies that he's "Re-accessing what I want. What I really want." And my goodness... the tone is dripping with desire my friends. It's like The leg thing™ but in words. So I think, for maybe the first time in his life, Astarion had a plan from beginning to end.

I think Astarion was wild back in his magistrate days, a real hedonist. I'm talking regular orgies, hungover rulings, a true nepo-baby making the most of his beauty and youth. And I think 200 years later he feels nostalgic for it, but it's really only the feeling of privilege, freedom and the lightness of someone without trauma that he misses. I've never done the brothel scene with him, but I've seen it. When you go post Cazador he says he wants to "Try enjoying things like this again". He only says this after a night of passionate sex with the one he loves where he was totally willing and present and he felt good the whole time. So I think, at that moment in the brothel, he's riding that high. It takes him back to the old days for a moment. But then during, he's harshly reminded he's not that young elf anymore, he feels fingers bump over the scars on his back and is suddenly a million miles away.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x durge #bg3 headcanons #bg3 #Sorry for any mistakes I just felt like rambling #nsft

[adz]

in case you were needing it, here is my attempt at creating a comprehensive, mostly chronological list of every song sufjan stevens wrote/released as a solo act

A Sun Came We Are What You Say A Winner Needs a Wand Rake Siamese Twins Demetrius Dumb I Sound Wordsworth’s Ridge Belly Button Rice Pudding A Loverless Bed (Without Remission) Godzuki Super Sexy Woman The Oracle Said Wander Happy Birthday Jason Kill Ya Leil A Sun Came Satan’s Saxophones

Eye of the Beholder All Delighted People

8.21: A Blue Bunny Compilation Woman at the Well Far Physician’s Son

Seen Unseen Damascus

Enjoy Your Rabbit Year of the Asthmatic Cat Year of the Monkey Year of the Rat Year of the Ox Year of the Boar Year of the Tiger Year of the Snake Year of the Sheep Year of the Rooster Year of the Dragon Year of the Rabbit Year of the Dog Year of the Horse Year of Our Lord

To Spirit Back the Mews God’ll Ne’er Let You Down Bushwick Junkie I Can’t Even Life My Head

Michigan Flint All Good Naysayers For the Widows in Paradise Say Yes! To M!ch!gan! The Upper Peninsula Tahquamenon Falls Holland Detroit Romulus Alanson, Crooked River Sleeping Bear, Sault Saint Marie They Also Mourn Oh God, Where Are You Now? Redford Vito’s Ordination Song --- Marching Band Pickerel Lake Niagara Falls Presidents and Magistrates Wolverine

Hope Isn’t a Word Borderline

Metaphysics for Beginners How Can the Stone Remain?

Seven Swans All the Trees The Dress Looks Nice on You In the Devil’s Territory To Be Alone with You Abraham Sister Size Too Small We Won’t Need Legs to Stand A Good Man Is Hard to Find He Woke Me Up Again Seven Swans The Transfiguration --- I Went Dancing with My Sister Waste of What Your Kids Won’t Have Illinois Concerning the UFO Sighting The Black Hawk War Come On! Feel the Illinoise! John Wayne Gacy, Jr. Jacksonville A Short Reprise Decatur One Last “Whoo-Hoo!” Go! Chicago! Go! Yeah! Casimir Pulaski Day To the Workers of the Rock River Valley Region The Man of Metropolis Prairie Fire That Wanders About A Conjunction of Drones The Predatory Wasp of the Palisades They Are Night Zombies!! Let’s Hear That String Part Again In This Temple as in the Hearts of Man The Seer’s Tower The Tallest Man, the Broadest Shoulders Riffs and Variations Out of Egypt

NPR single The Lord God Bird

The Avalanche The Avalanche Dear Mr. Supercomputer Adlai Stevenson The Vivian Girls The Henney Buggy Band Saul Bellow Carlyle Lake Springfield The Mistress Witch from McClure Kaskaskia River Inaugural Pop Music No Man’s Land The Palm Sunday Tornado The Pick-Up The Perpetual Self For Clyde Tombaugh Pittsfield The Undivided Self

Mews Too Opie’s Funeral Song

Songs for Christmas ---I We’re Goin’ to the Country! It’s Christmas! Let’s Be Glad! ---II Put The Lights On The Tree Only at Christmas Time ---III Come On! Let’s Boogey to the Elf Dance! That Was the Worst Christmas Ever Ding! Dong! All the King’s Horns ---IV Hey Guys! It’s Christmas Time! Did I Make You Cry on Christmas? (Well, You Deserved It!) The Incarnation ---V Get Behind Me, Santa! Christmas in July Jupiter Winter Sister Winter Star of Wonder The Winter Solstice

The Believer In the Words of the Governor

The BQE Prelude on the Esplanade Introductory Fanfare for the Hooper Heroes Movement I: In the Countenance of Kings Movement II: Sleeping Invader Interlude I: Dream Sequence in Subi Circumnavigation Movement III: Linear Tableau with Intersecting Surprise Movement IV: Traffic Shock Movement V: Self-Organizing Emergent Patterns Interlude II: Subi Power Waltz Interlude III: Invisible Accidents Movement VI: Isorhythmic Night Dance with Interchanges Movement VII (Finale): The Emperor of Centrifuge Postlude: Critical Mass --- The Sleeping Red Wolves

Single: Sofia’s Song

All Delighted People All Delighted People Enchanting Ghost Heirloom From the Mouth of Gabriel The Owl and the Tanager Arnika Djohariah Side D

The Age of Adz Futile Devices Too Much Age of Adz I Walked Now That I’m Older Get Real, Get Right Bad Communication Vesuvius All for Myself I Want to Be Well Impossible Soul

Silver & Gold ---VI Lumberjack Christmas The Midnight Clear St. Benjamin the Bearded One Barcarola ---VII Christmas Woman Happy Family Christmas Mysteries of the Christmas Mist Behold! The Birth of Man, the Face of Glory Ding-a-ling-a-ring-a-ling Mr. Frosty Man Make Haste to See the Baby Eternal Happiness or Woe I Am Santa’s Helper Even the Earth Will Perish ---VIII Christmas in the Room Particle Physics The Child with the Star on His Head ---IX X-mas Spirit Catcher ---X Happy Karma Christmas Justice Delivers Its Death Christmas Unicorn

Carrie & Lowell Death with Dignity Should Have Known Better All of Me Wants All of You Drawn to the Blood Eugene Fourth of July The Only Thing Carrie & Lowell John My Beloved No Shade in the Shadow of the Cross Blue Bucket of Gold

One Night Stand #1 Harsh Noise

Exploding Whale single

The Greatest Gift Wallowa Lake Monster The Greatest Gift The Hidden River of My Life City of Roses

CMBYN Singles Mystery of Love Visions of Gideon

Tonya Harding single

Lonely Man of Winter single

The Ascension Make Me An Offer I Cannot Refuse Run Away with Me Video Game Lamentations Tell Me You Love Me Die Happy Ativan Ursa Major Landslide Gilgamesh Death Star Goodbye to All That Sugar The Ascension America

Live Only Majesty Snowbird The 50 States Song Many Guides Maple River

#please let me know if you notice anything i missed OR mistakenly included #sufjan stevens #some letters are bolded in the post but not in the editor so i can't fix it? whatever lol

[lovehaswonangelnumbers]

New Post has been published on https://lovehaswonangelnumbers.org/december-2019-eclipse-time-major-shifts-in-your-foundation-communication-breakthroughs-walking-the-talk/

December 2019- Eclipse Time: Major Shifts in Your Foundation, Communication Breakthroughs, Walking the Talk

December 2019- Eclipse Time: Major Shifts in Your Foundation, Communication Breakthroughs, Walking the Talk

By Astromomma

Welcome to December 2019! How the heck are we already to the end of the year? December 2019 is where major shifts are a foot. We have now entered Eclipse time. Eclipse’s always bring major change and awakenings. Sometimes this change can come out of the blue and without much warning. Usually we feel the effects of eclipses, anywhere from 4-6 weeks prior or after the actual date of the event. Hang on as it will be quite a ride!

We begin the month on December 3rd/4th with Jupiter, the planet of: optimism, wisdom and faith, moving from his home sign of Sagittarius, into Capricorn. Capricorn, the 10th zodiac sign, is known to be: responsible, authoritative, organized, structured and “the boss”. Jupiter transiting through the sign of Capricorn, will bring an expansion in our ability to be grounded and create lasting and solid structures. Jupiter is technically not comfy in the sign of Capricorn, and it’s considered to be his “fall” position. Planets in their ” fall” tend to be a bit weaker and not as fruitful in their manifestation abilities. Because of this fact, Jupiter in Capricorn, will also bring some obstacles and barriers that must be confronted with hard work and tenacity. We will want to achieve and be super productive during this transit, but will also have to watch for the tendency to be rigid and stubborn in our approach to achieving such results.

Moving to mid month, on December 12th, the moon, which rules our: soul, emotions and inner core, becomes full at 20 degrees of Gemini. Full moons are always supremely emotional and conjure: completions, manifestations and endings. Gemini, the 3rd sign of the zodiac, rules: communication, adaptability, curiosity, intellect and child like play. The Full Moon in Gemini will bring finality to a situation or project and this ending will involve a lot of communication and flexibility. Our emotions will be strong but instead of “feeling” these emotions, we might want to intellectualize them to death. Major contracts could be coming to a close with new ones on the way. We will need to watch out for gossip or idle chatter with this Full Moon. Sometimes Gemini energy has the best ideas and plans, but fails to take the action to bring them to fruition. The Full Moon in Gemini will ask us to remain malleable and tap into our inner child for guidance and assurance. Holding back your tongue could prove to be difficult with La Luna in the sign of the twins, so remember to take 10 breaths before communicating anything of importance at this time.

On December 21st/22nd, the Sun, which rules our: ego, vitality and life force, shifts from the sign of Sagittarius into the sign of Capricorn. Capricorn, the 10th zodiac sign, as described above, is known to be: the patriarch, leader, old soul, wise grandfather, and go getter. The Sun’s entry into Capricorn, will add a more serious and grounded essence to our lives. While Sagittarius time was about inspiration and forming amazing new ideas, Capricorn time is about getting real and putting those grand ideas into a practical plan of action. No other sign can make it happen and “get it done” quite like a Cappy. We will be wanting stability and structure and half ass promises and ideals will take a back seat.

On December 25/26th, we begin the next Eclipse cycle. How appropriate that it happens on Christmas day. The Sun, which again, rules our: ego and vitality, becomes new at 4 degrees of Capricorn. Solar Eclipses, are new moons on steroids and bring: major and fated: beginnings, initiations and fresh starts. The issue with eclipses( either Solar or Lunar) is that they always bring change that is unforeseen and unexpected. The Solar Eclipse in Capricorn is here to bring a major awakening to our: work, foundations, structures and commitments in life. One if not all of these areas will be effected and it will bring a whammy of change. We might want to hold on to old patterns or situations but this eclipse will demand us to wake up and get moving on what isn’t working in our lives. If you happen to have a planet or point in or around 4 degrees of Capricorn( my South node is here) then this eclipse will be even more dramatic and life altering. The Solar Eclipse in Capricorn will be about starting an era of integrity and work ability. If these words aren’t in your vocabulary, they will be by the time this baby comes.

December 2019 is here to bring the beginning of major change to our lives. As we enter the fated and destined Eclipse time, everything is up for change and you might not see it coming. Capricorn deals with karma as well. If you have been playing a dirty hand, expect to see the consequences and it might not be pretty. If you have been learning the lessons and coming from a place of integrity, December 2019 could bring in unexpected rewards and triumphs. You can’t run from being responsible. That will be the major lesson for this month.

December 2019 wants to awaken you to the beauty and serenity of hard work and solid intentions. This month is here to shake us up to what really matters in life and what “walking the talk” is all about. This fated month asks you to remain calm and centered throughout all these shifts and changes. December 2019 is here to bring: change to our foundations, awakening of our inner fortitude and the tenacity to make our dreams a reality.

******

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[brandithecrystalgem]

Intruder Alert!

O-KAY! So, this is my addition to the From Wakanda, With Love series. I’m posting a little early because I’ve been roped into going out this weekend! 

I had one helluva time writing this, as I haven’t written any fiction in like...10-ish years, and I haven’t written any fanfiction since the days of the msn group message boards. But, as much as I doubted my skills through this whole process, ya’ll will probably see more from me every now and then, once I really figure out this style of mine. ALSO! Tips, criticisms, feedback, alldat is welcome.

So, without further ado - here it is!

Characters: Erik x Black OC

Warnings: None, really. A bit of cursing in the dialogue, brief mention of smut but nothing that’ll get you steamy.

Word Count: ≈ 1700

Prompt: #27 - The only time I’m ever at peace is when you’re not here, breaking everything in my house.

It was the perfect Saturday.

The frigid Cambridge winter finally broke to give way to a balmy spring, and with the opening of a curtain, the sun’s soft rays lit up the once dreary apartment. Erik, clad only in black sweatpants, sat wide legged on his couch. A copy of The New Jim Crow lay unopened on the wooden coffee table as he lounged with his eyes closed, head bobbing gently to the sounds of Maxwell’s Ascension pumping through his speakers. He felt Gouda, his 2 year old tortoiseshell cat, walk across his lap, and assumed she was making her way to her preferred spot on the windowsill. His eyes popped open in surprise when he felt her plop down and curl up next to him. With a gentle smile on his face, Erik closed his eyes once more and began to delicately pet his favorite feline just as his playlist switched to Groove Theory’s Tell Me.  

It had been months since he had a weekend where he didn’t have any obligations to fulfill, or errands to run, or papers to grade, so he was going to enjoy it by doing absolutely nothing. Midterms were over so the frantic emails he’d usually receive from his students had died down, at least for the weekend. Not that he’d be responding to them today, anyway.

Erik’s head gently swayed to the music as he began thinking about what he’d be eating for dinner. The night before he’d run out to a butcher’s shop in Boston to get, what he considered, the best short ribs in the entire metro area and a bottle of A.P Vin pinot noir, a wine he’d come to enjoy during his unnecessarily frequent “networking” events the department chair “strongly suggested” he attend.

He already had the rest of the ingredients necessary for his red wine braised short ribs, and he was finally getting the chance to use the dutch oven he bought during a Black Friday sale. He briefly opened his eyes to check the time on the clock above the tv, making a mental note to start preparations for his meal in about two hours.

Yes, it was the perfect Saturday.

A knock at the door took Erik’s attention away from his food fantasies and caused one of Gouda’s ears to perk up in awareness. He wasn’t expecting anyone, so he opted to ignore the knock. He figured it was the annoying ass white man who lived across the hall coming over to complain about his “urban” music as he had many times before. Erik had half a mind to get up and increase the volume on the iHome out of pure pettiness, but his position on the couch was far too comfortable to abandon.

A minute went by before another set of knocks came, louder and longer than the first. Erik’s eyes shot open as he and his feline companion both turn to look at the door, because surely whomever it is has lost their minds.

Begrudgingly, Erik stood and made his way over to the door to look out the peephole before sighing heavily and dramatically. So much for his perfect Saturday…

Opening the door he’s met with Simone Michael’s bright, devilish smile. The yellow romper she wore contrasted beautifully with her deep brown skin, and her hair sat on top of her head in a giant puff. The large tan leather tote she carried everywhere except for formal events was clutched under her right arm, one of the straps falling. Erik thought she looked adorable, however, she did not fit in with his perfect Saturday plans.

The pair met back in the fall semester at a grad student networking mixer. Simone was an architectural student who happened to live a few apartments down the hall. Even with the geographical convenience, she and Erik saw each other infrequently due to their busy schedules, but still managed to build a mutually beneficial situationship. Truly, they had fun together. Erik knew he could always hit her up for a good time, whether in or out of the bedroom. Still, as fun as she was, Simone was also loud and clumsy, and therefore in direct opposition to the serenity he pictured for his day.   

Her glossy lips pursed together in a smirk when she realized Erik didn’t seem at all happy to see her..

“So...you gonna let me in?” Simone asked with a tilt of her head and batting of her eyelashes. With another heavy sigh he opened the door wider to move to the side so she could come through. She glides in just as D’Angelo’s How Does it Feel begins to play through his speaker, her hips involuntarily swaying to the guitar riffs as she sits her bag down. If Erik hadn’t been thinking of ways to get rid of her without doing irreparable damage to their relationship, his hands would have very voluntarily found their way to her hips as she moved.

“What’s with these dramatic ass sighs?” She asked over her shoulder, hips still swaying. “Don’t think I didn’t hear that other one before you opened the door.”

With a roll of his eyes he headed back to his position on the couch, eyes scanning for Gouda only to realize she’d finally ditched him for the windowsill. He plopped down on the couch and stretched his leg out, purposefully taking up most of the sitting room.

“I was trying to have a nice, peaceful, relaxing Saturday.” Erik said, closing his eyes again, hoping she’d get the hint. “Oh, so you need some help relaxing, then?” He could hear the suggestion in her voice, she did not get the hint.

“No Simone, I don’t need ‘help relaxing’ ” he huffed. The sound of cabinets opening and glasses clinking made his eyes pop open and head snap towards the kitchen. “The hell are you doing?!?” He hoped she didn’t stumble upon his bottle of wine, because he’d definitely kick her ass out if it meant saving his short ribs.

“Well…” she continued opening cabinets until she found the box she was looking for, “you’ve been stressed and clearly need to unwind, so I’m gonna make you some tea! You know, for ‘relaxation.’ ”

With a sigh, Erik relaxed back onto the couch. “Simone, baby. I just want some peace, so Imma need you to go back down the hall.”

“Oh so, Im infringing on your peace or something?” She asked, only mildly offended.  

“The only time I’m ever at peace is when you’re not here, breaking everything in my house.” He told her outright.

“You are so damn dramatic, Erik” She scoffed. “A bitch drops one glass in the sink and suddenly I’m breaking everything in your house.”

“What about the chip in my coffee table?” He pointed directly at the chip with his eyes closed, having memorized its exact placement.

“My phone fell on it, AND CRACKED, might I add! Besides, it gives the table character.” She defended as she put the kettle full of water onto the stove.

“And what about the rip in my hanging tapestry?”

Simone’s smirk returned as she sauntered over to the couch, resting her forearms on its back. Sensing her presence, he opened his eyes and glared at her with poorly restrained annoyance.

“If I remember correctly,” she started, “you had me pushed up against the wall and we both had a grip on your little tapestry. So” her index finger moved back and forth between the two of them, “WE ripped it.”

Memories of that night made its way to the forefront of Erik’s mind, and his signature smirk almost found its way to his lips.

“Alright, that’s fair. You got that one...but what about my succulent pot that you knocked over?”

Simone made her way around the couch and crawled in between his legs until they were face to face.

“That wasn’t even me, the cat did that one”

Erik’s eyebrows shot up. How dare Simone try to frame Gouda for her clumsiness, the AUDACITY of this girl. “The cat is here every damn day and nothing gets broke, explain that!”

Her hands cupped his face, with thumbs running across his patchy beard before she shrugged. “Iono, cats be catting sometimes.” She felt his jaw tense under her palms before letting out a small giggle and gently kissing him on the lips. He attempted to move his face out of her embrace and defend Gouda’s honor, which led to her arms resting on his shoulders and only extended the lifespan of her giggles. Erik was fed up. “Nah, you gotta leave. I didn’t even want you here in the first place, but now you disrespecting family? NAH, bye!”

He nearly started pouting when she didn’t even flinch at his words.

“Now Erik, you and I both know that if you didn’t want me in here you wouldn’t have opened the door.” He scowled as a response, soliciting yet another giggle from his intruder.

The tea kettle began whistling calling Simone back to the kitchen. When she returned she had two mugs of mint green tea and was met with Erik’s perpetual frown. “You gon need to fix your face.” she told him with a chuckle as she sat the mug down next to his long forgotten book.

She sat her own mug down and made her way to her bag by the door, grabbing her tablet, and returning to curl up in Erik’s lounge chair that sat perpendicular to the couch. She sipped her tea and began working on some urban design sketches before looking up at him and saying, “Go on then, relax nigga!”

Frown diminishing only slightly, Erik grabbed the mug and took a sip before returning to his original wide legged position. This time, the sounds of Alicia Keys’ Diary washed over him mixed with the soft tapping of Simone’s stylus on her tablet. He looked over at Simone expecting her to drop the charade and start up her routine shenanigans. After a few minutes of watching her mind her own business, he let his guard down.

Erik took another sip of his tea before placing the mug back on the table and relaxing back into his position on the couch. His eyes fluttered shut before a small smile pulled at his mouth.

An *almost* perfect Saturday will have to do.

Taglist: @hoopshoney​ @purple-apricots​

#WithLoveFromWakanda

[notoriousjae]

Finding the Love Of Your Life in a Closet (When the Rest Of the World Is On Fire) || Supercat || (1/2)

Chapter Title: Whirlwind of Elegance

Pairing: Kara Danvers/Cat Grant

Rating: M

Description:

Kara Danvers, last daughter of a decimated country and freshman extraordinaire, meets, falls in love with, and sleeps with Cat Grant, senior and editor of her college's paper at a frat party. It should be smooth sailing, right? Well, it would be if Kara wasn't engaged in an arranged marriage to her (best) childhood friend...and prince of the country they fled, Mon-El of Daxam.

Oops.

(Supercat college AU)

Chapter 1 (Current): AO3 | Below:

“When you leave this country, you’ll be…capable of wonderful, wonderful things, Kara Zor-El. Our two houses might have torn our nations apart, but my daughter—the last daughter of Rao…you and Mon-El of Daxam, you will create a new house, together. But never forget, my dear. Never forget the light you have inside of you.”

Those were the last words her mother ever spoke to her, the screaming of a dying war of a country that pushed a twelve year old girl to her knees, Kryptonian and Daxam sounding through the halls all around them. Her mother’s fingers cupped her cheeks, the light of the sun setting on Rao, their beautiful country that was small and torn from the inside out by a war between the Kryptonians and the Daxamites for as long as she could remember.

“Ieiu—” She’d begged, her hands grasping towards the sun, the necklace around her neck catching the light from a nearby explosion as a young boy lifted her into his arms, struggling against her strength and determination to choose her family over her duty.

“JE!” Astra’s voice carried from the hallway, a gun tucked at her hip as the royal guard scrambled to get the council to safety, but there was no use. Her father tucked up a gun, himself, both of them heading towards the windows, defending the last few members of their house against the slow ascension of Rhea and Lar Gand, troops behind them as they advanced on the mansion.

That was the last time she saw them. Her aunt and mother on either side of Zor-El as all of them raised up their guns in symbol, fighting for freedom and democracy against the aristocracy they were born into.

All of the soldiers behind them chanted with them, raising their guns up with a holler. Once. Twice. Thrice. All of their voices filled the once-bright halls with a shrill cry of undying determination:

Zyv. Zyv. Zyv!

The House of El would not go down without a fight. 

Mon-El chose her, then, despite his parent’s wishes, a promise hanging around his neck.

“Kara!” It was snapped—harsh—full of gravel and tears. He smelled like grass and gunpowder and the alcohol he’d spent their youth trying to get her to sip with him. “Kara, for once stop trying to—stop! Stop fighting! We have to go!”

She collapsed in his arms, strong as they wrapped around her from behind, his youthful cry burning tears down her back as she scratched towards the dirt, the last image either of them had of their homes—of their promise—of the mansion exploding in a fire as they ran down the hills far from the sprawling buildings of Argo City, a forgotten metropolis buried underneath tall tales to the rest of the world.

Screams filled the night air as the sun set on the nation of Rao for the last time.

Their fingers twined as they ran until their lungs seared, despite the charging force chasing after them, the Daxamites determined to see the prince returned and the girl he was to wed slaughtered so that the feuding home of Krypton would never raise, again.

The stars rose and the shouting and firing stopped when the two small forms scrambled the rest of the way of the mountain, near the hills. The thought that it was over was short-lived and naïve when a larger explosion sounded, prince and justicar’s daughter’s breaths panting in their chests when a brilliant flash lit up the night sky. The shock of it sent both of them tumbling to dirt, Mike’s body flopping over to restlessly cover her as dust filled their mouths and gravel clung to their stained, torn shirts. Kara managed to stumble upwards first, offering her hand down to a trembling palm, wide eyes taking in the ruins of the city cleared from a force that rocks the mountains, themselves, a bomb of such a great size dropped on the towers that there would be no one left, Daxamite or Kryptonian. Stragglers, maybe.

Refugees, by the end of the night.

As Astra had prophesized and no one had listened—a fact Kara would not truly understand for years—the war cost the lives of all, save for two (and a third young man far removed from any of them, a hidden secret of a Bastard from an old line of rule).

Alone in the hills, the last two of a lineage left standing and their country decimated, Kara Zor-El and Mon-El of Daxam wept, their rings hanging from their necks as they huddled together in a small cave.  Mon-El wrapped up Kara’s shaking, small body with the weight of his own like how they’d always done since they were children and it was then, underneath the gasping listlessness of tears that had dried on young cheeks that shaking fingers slid a ring onto her thumb, a vow not dying on her lips.

“We will not let them die in vain, Mon-El. We won’t.”

Exhausted and battered—bruised—his knuckles full of cuts and his heart full of wounds time won’t heal, Mon-El snored as he tugged her closer, burying a grunt of exhaustion in her shoulder.

She’ll listen to her mother—they’ll flee to another country. To another life. They’ll make a difference in the world—stop war where their country couldn’t—and they’ll marry.

They’ll carry on the line of their homes, a young twelve year old girl decided then and there, full of dirt and blood and tears, resolve overwhelming her strangling urge to cry.

She was, after all, her mother’s daughter.

They’ll change the world, happiness be damned.

--

“Ah, ah, ah—” Mike snatches her hand up and boldly tugs off the thinnest emerald band tucked around her thumb and Kara’s eyes widen, their engagement ring hoisted as a hostage between them.

“M-Mike, come on, you can’t—”

“Stop being such a Kryptonian.” His voice is harsh but his eyes are pleading, tucking up her chin in a way that makes her huff through her nose, “Honor, values, prudishness, I get it. Woo. Yay.”

“I’m not a pru—”

“You need. To learn. How to have. Fun.” He enunciates every word with a slosh of his drink and Kara barely manages to catch it before he drops it on her bed, eyes lingering on the glint of a band he holds in his thumb. She’s glad to see that it’s with a little more reverence that he unclasps the necklace hanging over his neck and slides the green swirl onto it before once more clasping silver underneath his hairline, hanging over his heart, watching as their rings slot together over the dip of his neck. “We’re engaged. I get it. We didn’t choose it, you get that, too. So go out there and please—please—have a little fun, okay? I’m not saying this as your totally handsome zrhymin, I’m saying this as your best friend, ball and chain.”

“Mike…” She sighs, eyes darting down to the ground because he’s always been able to look outside of their little union, but she—she can’t—

“I’m not saying go looking for it, Kara. But…come on. Not everything in life is…duty and responsibility and trying to honor our shitty parents’ memories. It’s a college party. I’m—” He inelegantly points towards himself, smirking, “Going to go get laid.” She winces, ignoring the sharp gasp of pain that settled in her stomach long ago before turning away, “And you…are going to have some fun. Okay?”

“Okay.” She looks back down at her book. A moment passes. “Or, I can finish my homework—”

“Nope! Stop being such a loser,” He snatches it up and holds it high above her head and, to his testament, manages to keep holding it even when she roughly elbows him in the stomach, best friend doubling over in pain but curling around the book like a football, something he has far more experience with. “Oww. God. Domestic violence.”

She gets ready to smack him with her free book when he holds up a hand in surrender, reluctantly snaking out the book. “Kar’, you’ve been here for a year and haven’t left your classes.”

“And I’m almost through with my sophomore year because of it.” She’s eighteen and not about to be talked to like a child, but that doesn’t keep her from talking to Mike like he’s one. Because he is. A giant man-baby. “Come on, you’re acting like I don’t have friends. People—I am—hey, I’m likable and…and adorable. Or something, and—Eve!” She tries. “Tell him!”

Her roommate just grunts an acknowledgment from her side of the room, not looking up from her magazine. “Yep. Totally likable.”

“Yeah. Everyone knows you. As the kind girl who always helps them when they need it and can’t get her head out of her books.” Mike rolls over onto her bed, wagging his eyebrows at her roommate--who wisely rolls her eyes--and Kara hits him in the stomach with her textbook again for good measure, maybe taking a little too much joy out of the noise he makes when he groans. “Please.”

Her grip slackens on the book when he scoots closer, far gentler when fingers curve around her wrists. Softer, barely a whisper: “Mon-El….”

“Kara, there’s more to life than just…books and always pushing yourself too hard. I get you want to help people. I do. It’s the most infuriating and best thing about you, but you have to help yourself sometimes, too. Come with me. Please. Pretty please. Super please. Meet me there.”

It’s the fourth please that does it, she swears, and before she knows why, she’s walking with him towards a frat house in the same clothes (she refused to change; it’s not like she’s coming here for the same reason Mike is) nerves curling up her throat.

A frat party. A college frat party. People dancing and laughing and socializing and…partying.

She can totally do this.

--

Mon-El is old enough to emancipate himself—fifteen, an adult in a small, lanky body with hair that doesn’t quite grow, Kara thirteen and quiet—but it’s impossible to take care of both of them, no matter how hard they try. They manage to stow away on a boat to America, small bodies shivering and huddling and sneaking food from ships, until Kara manages to get state-side and it takes them two months, their clothes tattered and irredeemable by the end of it, for them to finally track down Kal-El.

Clark holds her so tightly that she thinks her bones might break, tearful reunion tucking up the sagging sigh of Mike’s lips, their native tongue tasting heavier underneath the loss of their families as they huddled in a small apartment. Clark had thought she was dead—the whole world thought she was dead—and it was undeniable that some people still wanted to see the last line of Alura In-Ze and Zor-El spread across asphalt in lines of red, even if young Kara wanted nothing to do with the throne of a land that was suddenly ash. It was the morals her mother held so dear—the idea of freedom—her mother’s caring heart so strong that people across countries would track down even the remnants of it to see it erased.

Clark is in college—editor for his school’s paper—and is ill-equipped to protect her from death threats and even less equipped to keep Mon-El from being dragged kicking and screaming towards the prison of ruin that is their homeland.

So that’s how Kara wound up with a foster family an hour from her cousin’s small dorm, Mon-El staying with them for only a month before he left on his own. Their letters were frequent, rings hanging down the burden on their shoulders, and there was never too much time between them before one—or the other—snuck away to find each other underneath moonlight. Soon, war became a faint memory underneath the sound of Alex’s laughter and a school that never knew what it meant for a girl to come from a royal line that wanted to revolutionize the world with democracy. But faint memories are never far, and it always came alive underneath the brush of Mike’s knuckles by her ear, watching moonlight catch along the glint of his ring. His mouth was always rough but he was always too gentle—his eyes were always distracted but he was always loving in smiles—and his loyalties always lay with her, even if she knew other girls occupied his bed.

Marriage, Astra had once told her, was a matter of convenience, not of love.

Kara clung to it.

--

The whole house is shaking with music and suddenly she wishes Eve wasn’t packing up shop to go away this weekend, because she could really use some moral support. Or at least her roommate’s infallible sense of optimism; Kara is told she usually has it in spades, but for some reason she doesn’t find it here. 

“Kara,” Mon-El hoots when he spots her, bumping into someone far less-dressed, eyes already lingering and Kara’s own close, breath catching against the edges of her mouth, pointedly looking away from the spectacle. But his hand curls around her shoulder and she leans into it—leans into him—leans into the scent of alcohol and too much aftershave and familiarity of a charming smile that sets her nerves at ease, but sets every other girl in the house’s on fire. It’s how it’s always been, comfort where fire should be. But maybe they had enough fire in their early lives to balance it out. “Uh, uh, no way—” He tightens arms around her like she’s a second away from bolting (which she totally isn’t. Right now). “You gotta live a little, babe. Come on—”

“Mike…” She sighs, but lets him tug her backwards in through the house—in towards the raging boom of life all around them—head shaking fondly as he starts to hop up and down on his feet like a boxer.

“Ka-rah. Ka-rah. Ka-rahh—”

Oh, great, he’s trying to give her a rallying cry. People, drunk, around them, start cheering her name, too.

“Stop it,” It’s a groan, reaching forward to shove his shoulder, which he rolls down in towards her, catching her lips in a swift peck before twirling them around and all but shoving her into the building with a swat to her ass.

The sound of her yelping is lost when he runs inside and the whole building cheers his name, instead.

Right. King of parties.

That’s her future husband. King of his family line doing a line of shots off of the table, roaring in triumph as someone dumps water on his head.

Yep.

“Welp, Kara.” It’s a heavensward sigh, already resigning herself to her fate as dozens of hollers chant her fiance’s name, shoulders slinking downwards as she makes her way further into the crowd, apologizing as she ducks underneath cups and arms and dancing (grinding) bodies, hands coming up to cup her ears from the thrumming base that shakes the whole fraternity house. “Time to make some new friends.” Fingers try at doors as she goes, hoping to win the lottery and not find someone inside. She decides because she knows this part as well as the back of her hand and somewhere across the house, she’s pretty sure she can hear a chorus of people yelling Mike and Chug in repetition. Finally, she manages to slide into a guest bedroom that is miraculously unlocked, closing the door on the persistent thud thud thud in the back of her skull. “With the wall.”

And then she notices the people on the people who decidedly do not notice her and she stumbles out of the room—oh, eww—and rushes across the hall, apology dying on her lips.

And then she sees it, a small little refuge across the way and she manages to make it across the sea of mangled fraternizations to triumphantly skip into the small little space of an unoccupied closet. It’s when she looks up that she sees someone else intently ducking cups but the other girl doesn’t seem to duck fast enough, getting jostled by a large jock with a shoulder that sends her careening towards Kara.

Kara, who opens her mouth to warn the girl to look out a little too late, and the other girl, who strings together a line of creative expletives lost underneath the music that might make a sailor blush—

So that’s how a small little ball of heeled fury all but tackles the freshman (sophomore) into the depths of the small little room in an elegant whirlwind. But the elegancy of said whirlwind is no match for Kara Danvers’ clumsiness, their bodies colliding, and Kara barely manages to catch the small form and tug her close out of reflex, flipping them both so that she lands on her back with a crunching, sputtering gasp as all of the air in her lungs tumbles up into the air, the door smacking shut behind them from Kara’s grasping, desperate free hand.

Oww.

The girl makes a point of scrambling up, elbowing Kara in the stomach as she does, and there goes Kara’s wind for the second time.

“What the hell do you think you’re—”

“Oww.” It’s a groan from the floor, wincing with another gasp as Kara reaches behind her to pull out her purse, the book there making a pretty painful bed for her to lay on, lodged into her side. The music drowns out the faint sound of rattling as the small girl starts smacking on the closet door with impatient hands, Kara blinking as she slowly sits up on elbows to take in her surroundings.

“Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me!” The girl snaps—yells—jiggling and wrestling with the handle for a few more seconds. It’s a small closet space, but it’s big enough to be a walk in—for Kara to uncomfortably sprawl on the floor, head resting against the wall as she catches her breath—and coats line the walls, hangers, and floor with no rhyme or reason. The light filters in through slats in the door, enough for Kara to adjust her glasses and see the silhouette of the other girl obscuring it, and Kara eventually scrambles up behind her, nursing her slightly-wounded side as she does.

It reminds her of the time in New York City when Mike had almost been mugged and Kara scrambled to rescue him (scrappy and small and full of so much anger that she would have taken on the world if she could), both of them managing to ward off their attackers but Kara hadn’t been able to breathe without wincing for a month. To the point where Clark is still ginger along her side, anytime he sees her.

The thought causes her to fish out her phone with a groan because of course they’re in the middle of a signal black hole.

“No signal. Is it locked?” Her breath sucks in, blinking, and the shorter girl whirls around to level Kara with a stare so impressive that she stumbles backwards, nearly knocking off half of the coats from the wall in the process. “I’ll…I’ll take that as a yes?” It’s practically a yelp and the girl huffs through her nose, Kara nervously shuffling the glasses on her nose, now, already straight on her face. “Sorry?”

She has no clue why she’s apologizing since the other girl is the one that pushed in here and knocked her onto the floor. Maybe because Kara had grabbed the door on the way down, trying to catch them both.

It’s not like she locked it.

“You should be. I can’t believe this. This was supposed to be my night out—my first night out in months and aggggh—” A small foot kicks the door for good measure, the wood rattling with no purchase against the relentless assault and Kara gulps, eyes adjusting behind slim frames. She’s shorter than her and Kara can barely see the light from the hall highlight gold locks. It’s hair that must have been perfect prior to their little fall, and the outfit (what must be a meticulously-chosen dress of black and blue hues) leaves little to the imagination in a way that makes Kara look away for a breath. Which is good, because the other girl is suddenly looking at her again with a gaze that is utterly uncompromising and it would have been pretty awkward for Kara to be caught staring so intently at her ass. “Do you have a credit card?”

“What? I—no?” A blink, looking back up, taking in slitting dark eyes that are covered by a few loose curls of hair, not sure what a credit card would do for them.

“Student ID?” Forging on, tone annoyed, “Do you even go here? Since you look probably like…twelve. With that outfit.” It’s a huff and Kara shifts underneath the appraisal, scowling.

“What does a Student—”

“I need a card to break the door. Unless you want to be stuck in here, all night.”

Kara thinks of her piles of paper cluttering her small dorm desk and assignments due two days from now and the thought of being stuck in here all night with this girl before she rushes to the door with her and both of them start yelling for help through the slats.

--

Alex and Mike both tried to get her to branch out—to go to parties and dance with the people whose eyes always lingered a little too long—but her breath always caught, guilt catching in her chest.

“You’re not cheating on me if you just—”

“No, Mike.”

“For fuck’s sake, Kar! They’re gone. They’re gone when are you going to get it in your fucking head that—”

It was an unspoken agreement between them, and Kara never had the heart to break it, because she was engaged to a Daxamite who changed more than she ever thought he could, but there was one area he never would.

But that Daxamite was engaged to a Kryptonian, too, and where he only knew conquests, she only knew loyalty and she wanted him to look at her like she wishes she knew how to look at him.

Like even if they weren’t pushed together by fate and obligation, there would have never been anyone in the world who could hold her so close—kiss her so fiercely—like theirs was a romantic tale, not one of destruction.

Like they were in love.

“I love him, Alex.” And Alex’s fingers brush through her hair—Alex’s fingers tuck up her necklace—Alex’s lips brush over her shoulder with a heavy sigh.

Kara loves him.

“I love him.”

She doesn’t know how to tell Alex that she doesn’t love him how she should.

--

Eventually, they both wind up collapsing on the floor, the other girl—Cat, she’s learned in begrudging response to Kara’s own offer of a name—looking so down-trodden at the thought of having to sit on it, at all, that the young girl had thoughtlessly tugged off her cardigan and laid it out like a happy picnic blanket. Cat had looked surprised, but sat down, anyways, kicking off her heels with a sigh.

And that’s where they find themselves, sitting in awkward silence as the world dances all around them, staring down at their only exit with little hope.

“The party has to die down, eventually.” Cat grumbles, “I don’t have time for this.”

That’s the first thing Cat’s said that Kara’s agreed with.

“What do you have due on Monday?”

Apparently, they’re both workaholics, which is pretty good. There’s something to be said for forging some common ground, if they’re going to be stuck here all night, because that’s the first subject that unhinges Cat’s jaw all night.

And just like that, it becomes a little easier.

“What about you? Since you apparently do go here.”

They talk about shared professors—about university—commiserate about their roommates and Kara finds out that Cat is a senior who somehow landed an RA room without the responsibilities this year. Though her ex-roommate (Lois Lane, one year older) sounds like a dragon with three heads, the way the smaller blonde describes her. 

“I think college is a lot like prison—you can get a lot by bartering.” Cat hums, eyebrows raising, “Olivia has a thing for pot brownies. Which makes sense, given the fact that she actually wants to be a politician”

Before long, they both stop actively looking for a way out and settle against the wall, instead, Cat stifling a laugh as she relays a story about an IT nerd in one of her classes getting stuck on the roof of the dormitories in his underwear and Kara realizes with a small hint of horror that it’s one of her friends, practically guffawing in the small place, because no wonder why Winn gets so nervous everytime he forgets his belt.

Cat looks surprised at the sound of her laugh and both of them share an easy smile, no clue how much time has passed.

“Wow, the party really isn’t going to die down, is it?” Kara sighs, head tipping back, and Cat lets out a commiserating noise.

“At least you didn’t waste an outfit. That one’s not much of anything.”

“Hey, I didn’t know I was coming. I got dragged here.”

“Uh-Huh.” Cat drawls, tone perking up at the edge in a clear tease and Kara boldly—gently—shoves her shoulder until the edges wobble enough to crack, a laugh spilling forth and she suddenly loves that sound. She would do a lot to elicit that sound.

“I can clean up nicely, thank you very much.”

“That I’d like to see.”

“Challenge accepted.” Kara hums—beams—soft underneath the sound of Cat’s laugh still bouncing off of the small closet walls. “Next time I’m stuck in a frat party closet, boy you will eat your words, Cat. Just you watch.”

Their eyes meet and for a moment—just a moment—Kara forgets there’s music outside, at all.

“With baited breath.”

For some reason, Kara doesn’t mind being stuck in this one.

--

She was the one that kissed him, the first time, when they were young. She was eight and he was nine and he tasted like grass and she hadn’t known they’d sealed their fate, then.

So it was only fair that she was the one who pushed him for more, too. Frustrated and furious and hurt, hands nervously wringing together like frayed knots, his shoulders slumped as he shirked off yet another job shift—slept with yet another woman—laughed at yet another chance of happiness that their parents gave him. He was eighteen and throwing his life away and Kara was chasing after him in years (fifteen going on sixteen going on a thousand) and wishing she could give him a world he wouldn’t want to.

He was so furious with the world and she was the only thing he had left and instead of being furious, too, she clung to it—clung to her responsibility—fingers roughly tangling in the fabric of his shirt and tugging him down closer.

Their mouths met in a sloppy, angry kiss and when he picked her up in his arms, she felt like she was falling, not flying, and her heart sunk into her stomach from the weight of her own lead shoulders, wrapping around his neck.

He kissed her until she could barely breathe, pressing her back up against the wall of a room her and Alex have shared for three years, jostling the N-Sync poster hanging on the wall. It was nothing like the gentler kisses shared for eight years and Mike looks surprised that Kara would have this kind of fire in her, at all.

And when she speaks, it’s in a language dead to the world save for the few people that remember it.

“We’re supposed to get married, Mon-El.” It’s a furious, huffed whisper against his mouth. “I don’t expect you to be faithful, but you should at least honor that. You should at least honor yourself. There’s so much more in you than this. There’s so much more in my husband. There’s so much more in you, why can’t you see that?”

He looks stunned—breathless—and the fury on his face dies on his tongue when he hefts her further up and her fingers tangle in his hair.

She loves him more than she knows how to love anyone, and it still doesn’t feel like enough to keep him here, but when he lays her down on the bed and kisses her, she vows she’ll try.

He leaves for college the next day and she’s so proud of him she nearly bursts, hopping around Alex like a puppy dog without balance, stumbling and skittering along the floor of their Midvale home.

“He’s going to make something of himself, Alex. I mean it, you’ll see.”

“Uh-huh.” Alex takes a bite of her bagel and doesn’t look up.

“He just…needs a little help to get there.”

“Uh-huh.”

“He doesn’t know his own worth.” Kara shakes her head and Alex looks up at her, then, bagel hanging from her lips as she sighs. “You’ll see.”

“Okay.” She swallows a piece of the bread. “Whatever.”

“You’ll see.”

--

“So you’re planning on tackling all of college in two years? Ambitious.”

“Well…yeah.” Kara shifts, a little uncomfortable with the attention, hands jostling glasses as she shrugs—smiles—nose dipping down as a faint laugh rumbles along the edges of her lips. “The faster I can get out of school and start helping…”

“Of course out of everyone in the world I could be stuck in a closet with, it’d be a tree-hugger.” Cat grumbles and Kara hears it, head snapping up to frown. But the girl doesn’t seem to back down from the affronted gaze, almost reveling in it, instead. And that’s when Kara learns that this Cat is a girl who relishes in the ability to flaunt her opinion. “You can’t possibly be joining to actually help. You watched some Saturday Special with Alanis Morisette crooning about Angels, or something, and you—”

“That’s the ASPCA commercial.” Kara cuts her off and Cat blinks before that gaze turns into steel, apparently not used to being cut off.

“Whatever.” A huff through nostrils, “Whatever it was, you probably got this overly romanticized notion of swooping in to save other people because your own life was too boring to—”

“Do not patronize me.” Kara’s jaw clenches, “You're only like...a few years older than me. And you don’t know what I think.”

“I think you’re obviously not adult enough to even think about tackling the world head on. Who do you think you are, Supergirl? What would joining the Peace Corps even realistically do? Be realistic.”

“I think one person can make a huge difference in the world, that’s who I think I am. I think that it doesn’t matter what you think of me, that I can make a difference. I can help people who don’t have resources—don’t have access to the things I do, now. I can help do what my parents couldn’t.” It’s impassioned and Kara can’t remember the last time she felt this sizzling fire in her stomach, lapping up her throat to her tongue, but there’s something about Cat’s dismissive tone that bubbles it up out of her. That quakes her clenched hands and makes her believe more in herself just to spite her. She doesn’t even realize the belated slip of her tongue at the end of the sentence and, apparently, Cat pays it no mind, either, before the other girl blinks.

No, instead Cat just looks a little surprised.

“You really mean that.” 

“Of course I really mean that.” Kara huffs, but when she rolls her shoulders back, she smiles. “You know, you can’t just judge people at face value. All of us have experiences. I wouldn’t judge you just because—”

“Maybe you should. There’s something to be said for intuition.” Cat shakes her head. “People always talk about forming pre-emptive opinions like it’s a bad thing. How else do you sort through information? And people? They’re information.”

“People are a lot more than just information. They’re…they’re constantly changing. Evolving.”

“Everyone’s the same at the base of it. Don’t be naïve.” But Cat pauses for only a moment, eyes flicking down to her hands, twirling the pen she must always keep on her at all times like a keepsake and at the sight of it, Kara’s fingers thoughtlessly move up to her own neck, toying with the edge of a necklace. “Don’t misunderstand me. Don’t get me wrong. I…do believe the best in people. I do believe in hope.” A long sigh and when their eyes meet, again, there’s something so intense in Cat’s gaze that Kara might shrink under it if she didn’t feel like it was a test. “Maybe if you believe you can change the world, you can. One woman does have the power to do it. I know I will.”

“I know you will, too.” Kara immediately supplies and the girl shakes her head almost fondly.

“Is blind faith just a commonplace occurrence for you, or something?” There’s a hint of amusement there and the responding laugh is bright—loud—dancing in the small space between them as Kara shrugs in response. Her hand falls over an up-tucked knee, head falling back to rest against a particularly long coat.

“Maybe. My sister always tells me that I want to see the best in people. Usually to my own detriment, I guess?”

“That I don’t find hard to believe.”

The silence settles far easier between them, now.

“So…you want to be a journalist? That means you read a lot, right?” The look Cat gives her—non-verbally accompanied with a no shit sherlock—makes Kara shuffle a little, trying her best to smile through the hint of nerves suddenly on the edge of her tongue. “What are some of your favorite books?”

That seems to loosen both of their tongues for the second time—a second barrier forged past friendliness into familiarity—a common ground splayed out between them in open white pages. Eventually, neither one of them seems to care about the party, the noise in the background fading into a gentle hum, and somewhere along the line they scoot closer, together. Eventually, Cat’s legs find themselves stretched over her own and their shoulders ease together and neither one of them comment on the fact that they shouldn’t be so comfortable—so close—because it doesn’t matter that they’ve only known each other for a couple of hours.

For some reason, Kara feels like she’s known Cat her entire life.

--

It’s six months later that she flies all the way out there to tug him out of bed by his ear and yell at him about his Instagram footage.

Because boy does Mon-El need constant encouragement.

She manages to convince him to stay in college—to stay somewhere he can make a difference—and she beams with pride when the conquests and lines of alcohol bottles thin into half-hearted tales of tests and studying. He’s smart—smarter than he’ll ever give himself credit for—and she knows he’s furious with even the idea of applying himself. He slips enough times for her to threaten to go take him on, again, and not wanting to undergo the wrath of his fiancée, Mon-El of Daxam (Mike Matthews of Midvale) finally finds his place in life.

By the time she’s eighteen, Kara tells herself that it’s only two years until she’ll find her own. Two years until she’ll graduate and enroll in the Peace Corps and do her best to keep other countries from undergoing what her own had, lost and forgotten in history books that will never write about it.

They’ll get married and join and change the world.

Two years.

Two more years.

What could happen inbetween?

--

Cat’s head has found the crook of her neck and it’s easy to tuck the girl against her chest, both of them resigned to their fate of dying here before anyone thinks to check it.

Not that Kara really minds it so much when that laugh is so warm against her skin.

“No, really—”

“No, no way, don’t believe it.” Cat’s still laughing, hard enough that she needs to grip her side, leaning further into Kara’s stretching arms when she does, the younger of the two splaying out her hands in dramatic effect, imitating an explosion in front of them.

“It just went boom. I mean it. We were so grounded.”

“Well that’s what you and your sister get for thinking you could sneak off in the family car.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault that an entire family of squirrels ran out into the road. I had no choice but to turn off the road.” Kara indignantly responds, serious, because what had the alternative been?

“It’s your sister’s fault for listening to you and letting you drive.”

Kara laughs, “Okay, maybe.” She assents, remembering how long she had pestered her sister for hours until Alex had relented.

Alex hasn’t let her drive since.

“It could have been so much worse.” Cat notes, “You two are lucky it didn’t explode with you in it.”

“It almost did.” Kara shifts, a hint of guilt still fresh in her chest, cardigan bunching up on the ground underneath them. “Alex was knocked out cold. I remember being so scared. I had to pull her out of the car and call 911. It’s funny, now, because Alex insists that I would put that family of squirrels over her well-being again in an instant,” She laughs a little, “But…it could have been a lot worse, yeah. We were always getting into some kind of, um…trouble, I guess. If it wasn’t me, it was her.”

“You two must have been hell for your parents to raise.” Cat hums, and Kara wonders when she’d grabbed her hand, finger idly tracing along the lines of her knuckles like a painting.

“After they adopted me, yeah.” Kara shrugs, not explaining that her and Alex weren’t so close in the beginning—not explaining that her parents never would have let her in that car in the first place—not explaining a good bit about her past, yet, because maybe that’s a second trapped in a closet kind of thing. (Or maybe she’s just scared of how much she wants Cat to know). “But, hey, that’s nothing like you trying to track down a drug dealer when you were seven to write an expose on him.”

Cat chuckles, chin tipping back to search the line of Kara’s jaw, like the side-stepped notion hasn’t evaded her—Kara’s learning not much does, not underneath the scrutiny of those sharp eyes—but a journalist surprisingly lets it go.

“Someone had to expose the man for what he was.”

“And that someone was you.”

“Clearly.”

“Clearly.”

They smile, silence again stretching between them and when Cat once more rests her head on her shoulder, Kara finally listens to the soft din outside, party still going strong. Or at least the music is. Cat settles against her shoulder and she’s not sure why she even asks—

“Hey, do you um…do you want to dance?”

Kara blinks, remembering what Alex always said about her thinking before talking.

Oh, God, why did she ask—

“To techno music.” Even in the dim light Kara can see both of Cat’s eyebrows raise, her tone dry. “In a closet.” Cat doesn’t look away as she drawls it and Kara wishes she would. “Alone.” 

Kara shrugs, glad for not the first time that the darkness of the closet hides the flare of her cheeks, bravado dying on the edge of her throat. “Well, you said you came here to unwind and you’ve been stuck in here with me instead and I—um, well I mean—you—I guess it’s silly but I figured there’s no reason you can’t still dance and it’s not like I’ll just you if you still want to—”

“Wow, sometimes you really don’t know when to shut up, do you?” But Cat’s standing and Kara scrambles to her feet, after her, ready to apologize like the other girl might leave—like either of them could right now—blinking when instead she rests a hand on her shoulder. “We don’t have enough space for much. Guess it’ll have to be a slow one.”

“Yeah.”

Kara doesn’t bother hiding her relieved laugh, brows knitting when she steps closer because she’s only ever been lead, not lead herself, but Cat starts moving and suddenly Kara doesn’t feel like it matters. Because their bodies thoughtlessly slot together as they sway to the obnoxious bass beat in the room outside, Cat’s arms wrapping around her neck, the nerves fading away at the soft smile that tucks up the other girl’s lips.

This is what it feels like, isn’t it? This is what it feels like, a rush of monarchs dive bombing in her stomach and her heart skipping with every beat shifting their feet.

“I’m…sort of obvious, huh?” Kara finally asks, quiet as Cat’s nose slots against her neck.

“Oh, yeah. Very.” But there’s a hint of a smile against warm skin—Kara swears she can feel it, “But I like it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Kara breathes out a shaking breath, expectations and reality and obligation flooding away with it for the first time in ten years.

“Okay.”

“Just…don’t stop dancing.” Cat whispers and Kara has no problems complying, hands sliding down to wrap around a waist, eyes sliding shut as they move.

This is what it feels like, and there’s another promise she made that she intends to keep.

--

“chahv kir.” Astra calls around the corner, the sound of laughter dancing along the walls in trilling piano notes and the young girl perks up and tries to scurry away, back up the stairs she’d snuck down from, but the effort is futile because she only makes it two steps before her aunt wraps arms around her waist and picks her up like she used to do when she was little—she’s seven now and shouldn’t be picked up so easily—but her squeal of laughter joins the pianos, regardless, when her aunt whirls her in the air like a plane. “You are supposed to be sleeping!”

“But everyone was having—” The protest is cut off by laughter and she looks up, sheepish, at the sound from the top of the steps, Mon-El’s scruffy locks coming into view for only a second before he runs up the rest of the stairs, abandoning his friend and fiancée to her fate. “Everyone was having fun and I just—”

“Ah, just you?”

“Yep!” Kara emphatically nods even with Astra holding her up in her arms, eyes a little wide. They grow wider than their cat’s saucers when Astra’s slit in response. Uh-oh.

“You don’t lie to me, Little One.” Astra tutts a clever tongue against the roof of her mouth and Kara’s shoulders sag despite the fact that she’s still being held, eyes nervously looking towards the stairs before they settle on her other best friend in the universe. “It’s brave to cover for your friends—especially a little Daxamite boy who won’t cover for himself,” It’s groused and Kara won’t understand the annoyance—the over-protectiveness—for years, but in the moment Astra just plops them both down on the nearby step, tucking Kara close to her chest. “But family comes above all. And we’re friends, are we not? You should put great trust in me.”

“Sorry Aiahv.” It’s properly chagrined, head hanging, but her aunt’s gentle fingers—calloused and rough from planting and fighting—tuck underneath her chin and their eyes meet.

“Never apologize for protecting someone you love. Just know I’d never hurt you. It’s a lesson you should learn, even young. Besides,” A long-suffering sigh, bouncing Kara up on her knee until the girl hops off. “That stupid boy is your betrothed, now. Whether or not I like it, you’ll both be causing far too much hell together.”

Kara laughs, a little scandalized, but that’s one of the reasons she loves her aunt. She never makes her feel like a child—never candy coats—and it makes the ring hung around her neck feel less like a burden and more like an…honor. It’s difficult to hide the surprise when her aunt drags her towards the festivities, the sound of laughter and music growing louder and louder with every footfall. Non is leaning against the edge of the large glass windows of their living room as her mother and father play the piano, dancing and singing. Rhea and Lar Gand surprisingly dancing and laughing with them, the union between the Daxamites and the Kryptonians still timid. Still new.

After all, it’s only been two weeks since best friends were announced to be engaged. But music, Alura always insisted, could bring anyone together across their differences, and it seems to do its job, now.

There’s other diplomats in the house, all twirling and dancing and laughing, and when Astra meets Non’s eyes, he raises a hand towards them both with a wink and Kara smiles, squeezing her aunt’s hand.

“Can I stay and dance?” Kara tugs her down, whispering into an ever-attentive ear, and Astra hums in the back of her throat with a gravelly chuckle, knees cracking as she squats down to her level, fingers brushing through her hair.

“I’m afraid not, Kara.”

“Oh.” Her nose ducks, scrunching, and those fingers once more tuck up her chin.

“You cannot stay. But I said nothing of dancing. Why don’t I dance with you around the corner? It will be just us.”

“Really?” Kara squeezes both of those large hands until the older woman laughs, both of their feet pattering along white wood, the sun far set and the laughter and music carrying them towards the small study around the corner. “What about Non? Shouldn’t you be dancing with him, Astra? Like I should dance with Mikey.”

“Mon-El.” Astra thoughtlessly corrects, but her voice and eyes—normally so stern—are kind. “You understand how I told you there was nothing wrong with protecting someone you love? And how you both—you and your betrothed—would always cause trouble?” Kara nods her sharp understanding, head bobbing up and down feverishly—almost enough to knock off her glasses—and Astra fondly tuts her tongue before straightening the pair on the bridge of a nose. “You don’t always have to choose your husband, Kara.”

“What?” Kara blinks, brows knitting as her fingers idly reach up to her neck. “But…but I thought—”

“Oh, shush. We’re strong women. Generals.” Astra reminds, patting Kara’s young heart like that’s where the source of the word lies—the strength of it—before tugging Kara closer and catching her hands. “Marriage is not everything, Kara. There’s duty and life. But, most importantly, love.”

“Love?” Kara breathes the word, something wistful and painful in her chest, too young to understand why it clenches so tightly.

“Oh, yes.” Astra hums, slipping into their native tongue: “And I love you most of all.”

“Aiahv.” Kara beams, ignoring her aunt’s formal gesture of hands for dancing to wrap them around a tall neck, leaping up to tug her down into a tight hug that makes the normally unflappable woman stumble, chuckling as her arms wrap around her waist. “I love you, too!”

“Someday, I hope…you’ll understand love, too. Not just obligation.” She pulls away, cupping her niece’s cheeks and Kara doesn’t understand why her Aunt’s eyes are suddenly a river of emotions, water brimming along lashes as she holds her, “Promise me you’ll try to find it, someday. Above all else. Treasure it, Chahv Kir.” 

“I promise it, Aiahv.”

“Good girl.” Astra nods, running a loving thumb along her cheek before she tugs her close, the music settling over them as they dance. Lips brush over Kara’s temple and she sighs, eyes fluttering closed as she smiles and listens to the sound of a nation outside of their doors dance in harmony and laughter, held safely in her aunt’s arms.

“You’ll make a fine general someday, Kara. Far better than a fine wife.”

Kara beams up at her and their eyes twinkle and for some reason—for some reason—it feels like the world’s greatest secret as they smile.

--

“So…do you do this for all the girls?” Cat practically purrs against her neck and Kara swallows, not stopping the soft swaying despite the hint of nervous laugh caught in her throat. She’s certain Cat might be able to feel it trapped there. “Trap them in a closet and try to sweep them off their feet.”

“Hey, you bumped into me, remember? But I…” Kara futilely argues, “I don’t do this with anybody.” A beat, “I’ve, uh…I’ve only ever been with one person. That’s kind of…I don’t know. I don’t think it’s sad, but sometimes people look at me all…weird when I say that.” Kara laughs a little, nose scrunching, “But I was with him since we were thirteen. Well, longer than that, really, but my—our parents…they wanted us to get together, so we did.”

“Well, if I did everything my parents wanted me to do, I’d probably be dead. At least my Mother. Sometimes parents don’t know best.”

Kara blinks because they’ve talked a bit about Cat’s mother, already, but Kara still has no clue what to do with that level of hatred towards a living relative, since she doesn’t really have any, outside of Kal-El. “I…okay, I’ll admit, I don’t really know how to respond to that.” Surprisingly, Cat laughs, both of them sharing a sly smile. “What about you? I could argue you’re trying to sweep me here, you know.”

“By try I think you mean that I’m succeeding.” There’s that victorious smirk on Cat’s lips and suddenly Kara’s mouth feels a little dry, even when her eyes dip, a little shyer than she might expect herself to be from the way her voice suddenly husks: “I’ve had a few boyfriends. One was…longer than the others. Joe. I…had a scare last year when he moved away—he moved to Metropolis—and I didn’t…we didn’t work it out. Everyone else…everyone else always leaves. If not eventually, they always leave in the morning.” There’s a beat, Cat’s eyes skimming along palms like she can trace her own lifelines when she pulls away and Kara feels the distance, immediately, “I…” Those eyes dart upwards and settle on Kara, like she’s a little in awe but utterly unwilling to admit it, “I don’t know why I told you that.”

“I’m glad you did.” A little breathless, trying to think of the right words to say and settling on the truth, instead: “I’d…like to learn everything about you, Cat. Is that—is that weird?”

“A little.” The girl concedes—laughs—but there’s something soft in her gaze, “But not…entirely unwanted. I guess.”

“Oh.”

Both of them tuck their teeth in their lips in a nervous gesture in union and Kara thinks Cat wears it far better than she ever could. Wears nerves like a tight-fitting black dress that her fingers long to itch along the hem of.

Boldly—sinfully—Kara suddenly wants to help relieve Cat’s lips from her teeth with her own.

“So you’ve…never been with a girl, then. Have you ever thought about it?”

“I am right now.” Kara immediately supplies and then slaps a hand over her lips with a faint laugh, thankful for the dim light of the closet that covers her blush, something that only deepens at Cat’s low, surprised laugh.

“Well I can’t blame you. I am hot. Especially in this dress.” She steps closer and Kara wishes she’d cross the distance faster because suddenly her knees shake and she’s not sure how to move, “Brazen is a good color on you, Kara.” 

“I was just being honest. You’re…” Her hand raises and hesitates along the lines of a jaw, hovering without touching, “You’re beautiful, Cat.”

“Oh.” And Cat’s biting her lower lip, again, eyes searching Kara’s before they dart down to her mouth and back up. Fire—fire—burns like a nation in Kara’s stomach. “I really never thought younger was my type.” But she’s leaning closer and Kara swallows.

“And now?”

“Now I…I don’t know. I’m thinking about it, too.”

“Could you—would it be alright if I—” Kara sucks in a sharp breath before letting it out, calming herself because she shouldn’t be doing this at all, but suddenly she doesn’t know how she can do anything else, “Can I kiss you?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

So Kara stops asking and does it.

--

“Is it…different?” The question is quiet and barely laced with the insecurity that fills her stomach. It rolls in her chest like a fast, boiling pot of water, sometimes, how it feels when she looks at him.

“Being with other girls?” He finally asks, rolling over onto his side, thumb smoothing along the ridges of her ribs where a scar sits. She’d climbed onto the top of a tree when she was ten and his youthful, bragging voice yelled down to her to jump—that he’d catch her—and she had. He’d caught her, but both of them wound up with matching scars from a nearby tree branch that caught them both just as happily along their sides.

“Yeah.” Her swallow is thick—tight—brushing fingers along the ridges of his knuckles so that she doesn’t have to look into his eyes.

“It’s different.” He murmurs, eyes concerned because he knows she doesn’t usually like talking about it and even Kara isn’t sure why she is, shrugging a little.

“In the books…in the books they always…they always make it seem like this…magical thing, you know?”

“Oh.” Mon-El shrugs, flopping onto his back and tenting out his arms and she nestles on top of them, both up them looking up at the stars. The fields of Midvale spread out all around them, the wind rustling the small blanket they’d stolen from the laundry room, and he’s quiet for a long moment before he murmurs: “It’s nothing like that. Like in your books.”

But it’s not like that with her, either, she knows.

“Do you think we’d know it? If we ever found it. Do you think…” Her fingers brush down the line of his chest, “Do you think it’s even real?”

“I don’t know.”

The question makes her think too much of her aunt, so she stops talking and kisses him, instead, insisting this must be enough, anyways.

--

It’s different.

It's different with Cat.

It’s different in all of the ways she never knew it could be. Soft where Mike is rough—gentle where Mike is unrelenting—pressing where Mike is timid—consuming where Mike is…there. Kara kisses Cat and she feels like she’s flying. She feels like her body lifts off of the ground and slowly ascends towards the heavens and when those fingers raise up to brush into Kara’s hair, she feels like she’s on fire. And she’s so certain she’s never truly been kissed before, before this moment, because it’s nothing she’s ever known, at all.

Cat kisses her—Cat’s shaking, gentle touch consumes her until they’re both breathless in a simple brush of lips, however gentle or unassuming it is, and when they pull away Kara slumps forward, her whole body chasing after her like a shooting comet’s tail chasing a planet in the sky.

It's chaste, really, all things considered—timid and gentle and almost…loving, for two people who don’t know each other, at all, but have suddenly known the most important pieces of a puzzle in the past few hours—and she’s never felt anything like it.

She’s never felt anything like Cat.

“Wow.” It’s a murmur, eyes half-lidded when she blinks to take in Cat’s parted lips, eyes still closed. It’s another second until they bat open, a little dazed, herself, and Kara boldly runs her hand down a sternum to brush fingers over a skipping heart behind her new friend’s chest. Is there a label for someone who you’ve only just met and kissed and don’t ever want to stop kissing? Friend doesn’t seem appropriate.

“That was…” Cat trails off—darts a tongue over suddenly dry lips—breath sucking in and out with two sharp pulls of a knife. “Okay, that was good.” Adding, like she doesn’t like admitting good things so easily, “That was a good start.”

“Very good.” And suddenly Kara feels alive, that hand finally coming up to cup the other girl’s cheek, marveling at the feeling of soft skin. Marveling at the way Cat leans into her like she wants to be touched—held—kissed again. “Can I—”

“For fuck’s sake, you’re not going to ask for permission every time, are you?”

“I—” Kara blinks, but the words are cut off by Cat’s mouth, kiss suddenly far more pressing, stumbling backwards and barely catching both of them from the momentum, crashing into the coats on the wall with a muffled thud, her hmm of a noise lost against an insistent mouth.

Cat doesn’t seem deterred in the slightest, arms looping around her neck and tugging Kara down, and suddenly she understands what all of those books meant about falling in love.

It doesn’t feel like falling, at all.

It feels like flying.

--

“You don’t want to, do you?” Kara sighs, knees tucked up against her chest, palms pressing into her eyes because it still burns up her throat in a way she can’t help.

“Hey—Kar, Kar, come on. You know I…” His sigh is tight, hand scrubbing over his face, “You’re it, for me. I love you.”

“Mike.” Kara protests, tone sharp—

“No, I mean it. I love you.”

“Mon-El.”

“So what if it’s not like…like those stupid books or the shows or—or—whatever! You make me want to be better.”

It’s softer, crumbling, “Mon-El…”

“You make me glad I didn’t stay with them, Kara.” His eyes close, “I’ll repay you for the rest of my life, if I have to.”

“We owe it to them.” She whispers, gingerly sliding a ring back onto her pinky. “We owe it to them.”

“Yeah.” Mon-El swallows and his charming, spreading smile doesn’t meet his eyes, “Yeah, we owe it to them.”

--

When someone finally opens the closet, neither of them scramble up towards it, though they do pull away to blink, disheveled faces turning towards the light. The bright light.

Sunlight.

The obviously drunk partier makes some snide comment that seems to stir Cat back to life, the small little spitfire flinging upwards with a wagging finger in the boy’s face. But the slew of words don’t seem to register with him, since it seems to take more brain power than he possesses to focus on the finger in his face, stumbling backwards to catch himself on the doorway as he does, and that causes Kara to scramble upwards, herself.

The glasses on her face are askew and her lips are bruised when she wraps an arm around Cat’s waist, physically pulling her back and stepping between the two in case the drunk guy decides to get violent from the assault. But he looks like he doesn’t understand it, let alone register it, and she catches him before he can fully fall, immediately moving to help him sit on a nearby barstool by the kitchen island. It’s only after he’s settled that she turns around to take in the carnage that was the frat house the night before, the steady, timid sunlight spilling in through the open windows.

It’s like a drunken battlefield.

There’s cups strewn everywhere and even more bodies littering every surface, music still thumping along despite all of the occupants either passed out or gone.

But that’s not the aftermath of the party that Kara lingers on. She turns around to see a small Cat, whose hands are curved disapprovingly on her hips, eyes slit and lips bruised. Golden hair is tousled and her outfit has obviously been mussed by Kara’s hands and her heart drops down into her stomach, stepping forward, suddenly not caring about the party, at all.

It should be sobering, seeing the after-effects of potentially poor life choices. She should pull away and find Mike (untangle him from whoever he’s with—whatever bottle he’s fallen next to) and go study. She should throw herself back into her old life in the sobering hours of daylight, but instead her fingers curve along Cat’s cheek with a dry swallow.

She’s amazed when Cat leans into it, because the other girl should really put a stop to this for both of them, shouldn’t she? But despite appearances, Kara’s learned one thing about this Cat that is the one striking common ground between them: she follows her heart, too, and there’s no denying—

Oh, there’s no denying—

Kara kisses her in the daylight, the air open and free around them, no longer stuffy and restrained, and Cat gasps against her.

Maybe Cat thought she would pull away, too.

She kisses Cat until fingers curl in her braided hair and nails rake against her neck before those same hands skim down bare arms to curve in elbows.

“Come back to my dorm.” It’s murmured against her mouth and Kara swallows, nervously looking up into dark eyes, so clear and so green in the morning sun. The base is still thudding along, drowning out everything but her heartbeat and the words dancing warmth against Kara’s lips. “I don’t do this, Kara, and I know that sounds…God, that sounds so cliché, even just hearing it, but I don’t. I do not just invite people back to my room, but I am inviting you back to my room. I am definitely inviting you back to my room.”

“I want to. Oh, I want to.” Kara breathes. “I can think of…of a thousand reasons why—”

“So can I.” Cat cuts her off, “But I want this, anyways. And when I want something…I don’t see the point denying myself, do you?”

“No.” A shuddering breath, tumbling between them when Cat’s nails rake down her arms and settle on her hips. “No, I really don’t, right now.”

Kara figures that the walk back will give Cat enough time to sober up even though she knows the other girl only had half of a beer all night—enough time for both of them to come to their senses—but the entire time she feels her pulse racing out of the hand that’s twined with the other girl’s and can’t bring herself to pull away. It should be silent. It should be awkward.

But instead they keep talking the entire way there. They talk until they get to the dorm building—they talk until they pass the tall RA nodding curiously towards them (with a lingering gaze on Cat, like she’s almost surprised)—they talk until they get to the door and then they talk some more, the birds starting to chirp in the air and the wind rustling through both of their mussed, tangled hair.

Keys jangle and the lock clicks, door barely parting open.

When the laughter and conversation settles like a goodbye between them, Cat’s small shoulders leaning against her dorm room door, keys twirling idly around her thumb like a pen might, Kara doesn’t know how to pull away.

She should pull away.

But she steps a little closer, instead, hands flexing—clenching and unclenching—before they settle on slim hips.

“I guess I don’t mind that party, all of the sudden. It did…lead me to you.” Teeth tuck at a lip as Kara leans downwards and for once, the rest of the world fades away. No expectations from her family—from Alex—from Mon-El or their wilting promise—and the most surprising part of all is that it’s just Kara Danvers standing here that’s so bold. It’s just Kara Danvers who wants to make this choice—wants to do this for her—to trace the curve of Cat’s jaw until she memorizes it.

“If you…invited me in, I would say yes.”

“Oh, well I…had no doubt about that.” Cat whispers but her fingers barely tremble as they raise up to skim along the dip of an elbow towards a bicep—to run a nail just along the outside edge of Kara’s blouse in a way that makes both of their breath catch against parting lips.

“And if…I stay,” A tongue darts out over dried skin, close enough to almost touch Cat’s lips, and when it retreats back into its home, Cat leans up into her like she’s hoping she’ll do it again if just to catch a hint of moisture against her teeth. “If I stay, I would love to have breakfast with you. Tomorrow, I mean…I won’t go anywhere. And would…” Their noses barely brush, nerves settling between them, deciding that the words say enough: “I would like to have breakfast with you. And lunch. And maybe dinner.”

She’s tired of making promises she doesn’t want to keep—this is a promise she knows she’ll keep. This is a promise she wants to.

“I’ve…never done this before.” Cat confides, “I’ve never even thought about doing this before.”

“Me neither,” Kara’s quick to reassure, “Well, I mean, maybe thought, but I…well, I just—”

“Yeah.” Cat agrees, but neither of them move and when Kara lets out a heavy breath, it breaks against her new acquaintance’s lips.

“Yeah.”

Their eyes meet.

“Fuck it.” Cat seems to decide before the hand curved along a shoulder falls down to roughly tangle in the fabric of Kara’s shirt, tugging her forward until their mouths meet in a far sloppier mess than the tentative brushes an hour before. It’s wet and tastes like cheap beer (and something else) and when Cat’s hands hungrily raise to curl in her hair, finally tugging a braid out, it feels perfect.

It feels perfect.

A kiss shouldn’t feel like this. A kiss has never felt like this—like this contradiction of frantic heartbeats trying to find each other in rhythm; like two different songs are playing between them, but then Kara presses Cat against the door and their bodies slot and their heartbeats sync up in tempo and…

And, oh, Cat groans and it’s music.

The door pushes open and they stumble inside and Kara doesn’t open her eyes to learn what Cat’s small dorm might look like because she knows it’s bigger than hers.

Instead, she learns what it’s like to catch a soft lower lip with her upper one—what it’s like to lose the strength of her knees when teeth tug at her own—what it’s like to feel hips arch up against her in a yearning, restless ache. Like she’s wanted. And Kara’s never felt fire like this, before, sudden and consuming and devastating. She’s used to a slow burn of a simmer that never quite resolves, but nails rake at her skull—drag down her neck and bury in restless vices at her shoulders—and suddenly Kara’s whole body is an inferno. It’s blazing up from her stomach to her searing lungs to her clenching fingers and they’re lucky that Cat had left the door open because she’s not sure she can stop and it isn’t long before Cat is pressed up against another wall somewhere inside this small space.

Kara can’t breathe and it feels like she’s losing something almost intrinsically more important than air when their mouths rip apart, a mewling, desperate noise breaking from her lips when Cat’s mouth trails sloppily down from her lips to her chin—her cheek—her jaw—but she’s full of precision when her teeth tug against a sensitive earlobe and a tongue slowly, teasingly, smooths along her ear.

Another noise leaves Kara’s chest, hips pinning Cat a little harder against the wall, and before she realizes what she’s doing, she’s pressed wrists there, as well, both of their bodies panting in a push and pull that hasn’t quite registered. Because she wants a moment to look at her—to see her.

To see the way the morning hue filters through drawn blinds and paints Cat’s hair like a sunrise; to see the way those lips part with a gasp, tongue that had just curved along Kara’s ear dancing along a lower lip, a hint of moisture and rain caught against the glistening surface; to see the way hazel eyes shift to something irretrievably dark that Kara has pulled from inside of a stranger’s chest; to see how beautiful she is, dress rumpled and eyes vulnerable.

Kara snaps a hand up to shut the door because suddenly she doesn’t want anyone else to see Cat like this, the sound of a door shutting lost against the dangerous rampage of her heart and, oh, Cat doesn’t let her go far.

“Kara,” It’s husked in warm, racing breath against that wet lobe and Kara would suddenly give Cat anything she ever wanted—anything she ever asked—just for a chance to hear that again. Nails rake down from wrists to shoulders to tremble over collarbones, eyes darting down to covered breasts and up again. So she tells her, stumbling against the words because the heat shoots straight through her—

“Say my name again. Please, say my—”

“Make me.” Cat challenges, hands so sure for someone that’s never done this before (but maybe it’s the same principle as with someone else, isn’t it? Even if this feels like nothing Kara’s ever even dreamed, let alone done) snapping up to curl defiantly around wrists but slowly—slowly—guiding Kara downwards to the faint hemline of a short dress. Kara swallows when her fingers skim along hot skin for the first time, but it doesn’t stop because Cat keeps pushing her hand up and as transfixed as Kara is by the journey, when her eyes flick upwards to see the other girl almost nervously biting her lower lip, eyes almost black they’re so lusting, Kara’s knees almost give out the rest of the way.

Make me.

It’s a challenge and for some reason, Kara feels like she’ll arise to it. Exceed it, just for Cat, and suddenly her hands are cupping breasts over a bra and Cat is arching into her, gasp panting in her ear, and Kara tucks her own chin in order to catch an open, hot mouth, tasting the way she moans when her hands cup a little firmer.

Cat’s hands hastily tug at the tanktop that had rested underneath a cardigan (happily forgotten at the party, crumpled from misuse underneath the weight of their bodies) until the fabric hastily dragged up between them causes their lips to break apart.

Kara can’t help her desperate laugh when the tanktop gets tangled and stuck on her head, Cat’s laugh joining her when it takes both of them tugging and rearranging to finally pull it free, taller blonde impatiently tossing it down on the floor like she’s taught it a lesson and the shorter of the two’s face curving into something almost fond as she straightens out the collateral damage of hair that had been caught up in the tangle.

Their eyes meet—Kara a little sheepish—catching Cat’s fussing hands with a spreading, soft smile, brushing lips over a palm in a way that makes a breath hitch against her. When their eyes meet, again, it feels heavy and the second kiss is much slower, Kara’s palms lowering to smooth up the skin of a clenching stomach—to once more curve along breasts—back arching as long fingers slowly start on the button of her pants, tugging her hips closer with each yank and pull.  

“Should we…” It’s a broken gasp when Cat’s fingers tug the fabric down tilting hips, fingers hooking in the line of fabric unveiled underneath. (And, oh, thank God she wore something cute, today). Nails skim along her hips like a writer skimming the thin, sharp line of a fountain pen along the white canvas of a page and Kara shudders. “Shouldn’t we be in a—God, I’d like to…I want you on a bed.”

Normally she would blush at the sound of it—at the turn of phrase—but it’s suddenly the truth because now all she can imagine is the gasp Cat lets out against her cheek rolling against her bare shoulders and—

“Yes.” Cat’s voice is silk and her next tug on pants is rough until the fabric pools about Kara’s thighs and there’s something beautiful about the way she elegantly slides down onto her knees, nails dragging the scratching denim down hot skin until it’s a puddle by both of their feet, trailing slow kisses back upwards. Wetness skims along calves—thighs—hips—a tongue dips in a navel and Kara’s fingers curl desperately in hair—between breasts—a neck—and she can’t take it, anymore, catching Cat’s mouth with her own.

Teeth tug on a lip and fingers scratch nails down the expanse of heat and Kara can’t breathe, anymore, but that doesn’t stop her from pulling away to trace teeth on a neck, restlessly sucking when she feels the way Cat’s hips arch up into her.  

“Bed. Bed, right—Down the—oh, down the—don’t stop. Don’t—shit, that’s. That’s— ”

Their bodies collapse on top of aching springs with an inelegant squeak but Kara is too busy memorizing the way Cat’s legs clench around her waist when she pulls down the fabric of a bra to trail a testing mouth down to a breast and she almost bites to hard when Cat’s hand, never one to be outdone, chases fire and sweat down her abdomen to smooth down the wetness between legs.

Kara makes Cat say her name, again, broken with teeth biting at a shoulder as heels press in the dip of a curving back.

Cat makes Kara beg the response with desperate fingers curling in the fabric of a pillow that smells like perfume and ink, body raising prayers off the bed to the noon sun.

They’re learning, now. Clumsy and wanting and…God, it’s not perfect, but it feels like it is.

It feels like a piece of Kara’s heart was missing until Cat’s breath and smile and moan and arching back filled it.

The afternoon sun slowly starts to lower itself from its once-brilliant expanse of blue, gingerly painting the pale lines of tangled bodies in reds and purples and yellows. Eventually, their bodies sag and Kara Danvers learns what it’s like to watch Cat smile so lazily that she looks like she was born in mussed sheets.

Kara knows.

Kara knows, without a doubt, that there’s something she’ll have to do tomorrow morning.

Cat’s thumb idly skims along a ring of untanned skin, juxtaposed with the rest of it, curious and unknowing. And Kara’s never felt so liberated in her entire life. Not since a fire between lost nations—not since she took on another name and another home.

Tenderness curves a spine when she leans down and gently brushes lips over the thumb painting her and hazel eyes widen, surprised at the motion before a brilliant, soft smile spreads across features.

So Kara kisses her, again, soft and slow and testing, easing the other girl back into the sheets with a happy sigh.

They have all the time in the world.

Kara made many promises when she was thirteen, before the sun and the ocean and her fiancé took her. Before she grew up and decided to save the world in a way her family never could.

But there’s one promise that sticks against her ribs, even now—the one she made her aunt, both of them dancing underneath the sound of laughter and pianos and harmony.

This is the moment when Kara Zor-El stops focusing on the past—stops focusing on the promises of a nation and a family lose—and starts focusing on the future, instead.

--

It’s nearly seven at night when Cat stirs and Kara, not wanting to seem too much like a stalker, tries to act like she just woke up, herself.

“Morning, sleepy head.”

“Mmm…” Cat rolls into her, nose skimming up a neck to brush along a pulse before lips lazily replace the small prod. And then her tongue. And then her teeth. And Kara is once more arching off the bed and she knows—she just knows—that her neck is going to bruise, fingers tangling in blonde locks, and she can’t bring herself to care. It’s only fair, really, since Cat’s yet to see Kara’s own handiwork painted in angry blacks and purples against her own neck. “Morning.”

“I thought sleep was—oh…” Cat bites down harder and Kara moans, fingers tightening a little harder in reflex in her hair and when Cat lets out a yelp of a noise of surprise, she immediately loosens, but insistent hands keep those digits just as close as they were before and when a chin tips back, blue searches the near-black of her lover’s eyes. “For the slackers.” But the joke, something that should likely be continued, dies underneath a hint of apprehension in Kara’s eyes. “Did you…was that—”

“I liked it.”

“Okay.” Kara nods, filing it away despite the blush, leaning down to kiss her, again. Consuming and full, “I liked…that. The, um—my neck.”

“I know.” Kara laughs at Cat’s curling, relentlessly pleased smirk. “You have had sex, right? I mean, it seemed like you had, but I don’t know if you’re naturally gifted from the nervousness I’m seeing, now.”

“One person, remember?” Kara shrugs, “I don’t know…what you’re supposed to talk about. How I’m supposed to tell you if I—”

“Talking’s fine.” Cat assures, a little gentler, stemming what might easily become a nervous ramble like a pro with her lips and Kara sags into the bed. “Calm down.”

“Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologi—”

A ringing phone cuts them off and Kara’s brows knit, confused for a second, before the fear settles in her chest, apologizing profusely before she scrambles off of the bed, searching for the offensive device with nervous hands, listening to it go to voicemail the moment she plucks it up, only a brief flash of a picture catching her eyes before it does.

Mon-El’s arm wrapped around her, nose pressed against her temple, Kara’s wide beam stretched out between them as she’d lifted up her phone, a graduation cap tucked (askew) on her head. He’d blown a raspberry on her cheek the moment she took the picture and idly, her finger comes up to skim along a tan-line outside of the picture, chest heavy before she turns around to take in Cat’s curious look.

She shakes her head, mouth opening to explain—to tell her—before the smaller of the two shakes her head in retaliation.

“Do you need to go?” There’s a hint of steel in that voice and Kara’s mouth snaps shut, immediately dropping the phone back onto the pile, hesitantly sliding back onto the bed, arms stretching above shoulders, watching as Cat practically curls into the sheets underneath her.

“Not before we get that breakfast.” Kara gently offers, serious and far too loving for one night, something in her immediately wanting to put out the nervousness in those eyes. The vulnerability.

And maybe she should tell her, now—tell Cat what she’s decided and why she’s decided it—but there’s nothing to put more pressure on a college hookup than informing someone that she knew she was going to leave her fiancé of ten years the moment their mouths met. It was something long-coming before they ever met, but now that Kara knows what something like happiness might taste like…

“I really should work on my article.” Cat murmurs, but her shoulders barely ease into the bed, hands coming up to curl in hair, and Kara nods.

“I can go find you some breakfast and come sit with you while you do it, if you want. Or leave you alone if you need to work, I just…that was my way of—” Her nose ducks, nerves curling on her tongue even when Cat’s fingers smooth through her hair, “I was trying to say I’m not going anywhere, if you want me here. To stay here.”

“Oh.” It’s a breath from Cat’s lips, the other girl raising up on elbows and taking in a shaky breath before she evenly says: “I think you should go.”

The disappointment settles in her stomach—flashes over her face—but Kara nods, smile slim as it tucks upwards, slowly moving off of the bed and making short work of tugging back on yesterday’s clothes. She’s to the door when she hears Cat’s struggle, turning around to see her pressing hands against her eyes, a furiously frustrated look tugging down lips and Kara opens her mouth to speak, to let her know it’s okay—

“Kara.” Those hands slap down on the bed and Cat flops over on the side of it, scowl warring with something that’s either a grimace or a smile before it eases in its entirety when Cat looks up to see her, Kara’s hand sagging, bag falling down a little as they share a look across a second set of discarded clothes from last night. “I meant…” Cat visibly swallows and her smile is slim—almost hopeful— “I meant…maybe you can go get me breakfast. Or dinner. And then come back here. If you want.”

That’s not what Cat had meant, at all, but Kara beams regardless, so beyond cool with letting it go, crossing the short distance and kissing her so happily that it doesn’t matter how dopey she looks when she pulls away, because Cat looks pretty happy, too.

“I can do that.”

She casts one last look over her shoulder at the sight of Cat sprawled on tangled sheets, naked and painted in the dim light of a desk-lamp that was left on before they ever came in and pushes open the door to night air, breathing in a happy mess of it.

Without a word, she tugs out her phone, immediately dialing back her fiancé with a heavy, conflicted breath.

“Kara! You okay? I forgot to check on you last night and I—”

“Mike, I’m…I’m great.” She breathes, gingerly cupping the phone in her hand as she heads towards the campus cafeteria. “I’m great. I promise. But…but we have to talk.”

“What?”

“Not tonight, but I—” Eyes flick back towards the closed dorm door before trotting down the stairs, smile and resolve spreading, “We need to talk.”

An hour later, she’s tucked up against the edge of Cat’s bed idly crunching on an apple as she flips through pages of a book, blonde hair sprawled over her lap as a mini-journalist taps away on her laptop. Every couple of seconds, Kara’s fingers skim through her hair, and every couple of minutes, long fingers quietly brush along the line of a tucked knee when inquisitive eyes stop typing to read through what she’s written.

It’s nearly midnight when Kara leaves for the second time to reluctant eyes and teasing words and when the door closes she can hear Cat’s uncharacteristic squeal of a noise. It’s bright and beautiful and happy and Kara trots the entire way home.

Her roommate is gone and Mon-El is sprawled on top of her bed, hogging the majority of it with a snore, but when she crosses the distance and brushes fingers along his shoulder, he lets out a snort of a grunting noise, immediately reaching out to tug her close by the waist. Her fingers brush through his hair before leaning down to run along the line of their joined rings, pressing a kiss against his temple before crawling in next to him.

It's easy—familiar—to settle against his chest and her swallow grates sandpaper against the ridges of her teeth, tears pricking the edges of her eyes as she traces the scruff of his jaw—the dip of a nose broken too many times—and rests her hand over his heart.

Home.

“I’m sorry, zrhymin.” And she is, the weight of it settling on her shoulders. “But both of us deserve to be happy, don’t we? Our houses are gone…” A shuddering breath, “Even if it’s not with her, don’t you think I deserve to be happy?”

Mon-El doesn’t answer, just grunts another snore before tugging her closer and her body stiffens before it settles against him, tired body sagging into him with far more familiarity than it does her well-worn springs. Her wraps around her immediately and holds her and he smells like alcohol and cigarettes and sweat and she sighs, because she loves him.

But sometimes love isn’t enough.

“I deserve to be happy.” She decides and almost like a thoughtless blessing in his sleep, Mon-El brushes lips over her temple, their rings happily clinking along his chest, slotting together like maybe they should but never quite have. Instead, she thinks of the slumbering form of one Cat somewhere across campus—the way Cat smiled against her shoulder and poked her side and curled underneath her hands. The way Cat kissed her name underneath the setting sun and chased stars and constellations with her fingers along the freckles of Kara’s back. It’s not the first time she’s cried in Mon-El’s arms in the middle of the night without him waking up to the quiet quiver of her shoulders.

But it’s the first time she wishes he won’t wake up to console her and that’s maybe the most liberating of all.

---

**Kryptonian Translations**; Source Ieiu; Mother; Noun P:[je.ju]K:Éú Je; Sister. Noun;P::[je]K:IE Zyv; Law. Noun;P:[zɪv] ; K:: zyv Zrhymin; Husband (Or: Betrothed); Noun P: [ʒ͡rɪmin] K: ZRo}min Chahv Kir; “Little One”; a term of endearment. Aiahv; Aunt.; : Noun; P: [a͡ɪɑv]; K:åav

#supercat #supergirl #kara danvers/cat grant #cat grant #fic #ff #fic: sg #fic: closet on fire #fic: closet on fire ch 1

[queenlizzyxxxx]

QUEEN LIZZYS ASCENSION

ITS QUEEN LIZZY BABY!!! I’m QUEEN LIZZY and my new album LIZZY just dropped!!! xxxx THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVE FOR MY NEW ALBUM LIZZY. THIS MEANS SO MUCH TO ME. I MADE THIS FOR YOU GUYS!!! THANK YOU TO EVERY COLLABORATOR. THANK YOU FOR TRUSTING ME. THIS IS THE BEST ALBUM EVER. I LOVE YOU ALL!!! 💕💓 [1] Another light o’ love! [2] Polish! Polish! Polish! [3] Baby, i’m candier than candy more chrome than chrome will [4] love you [5] more [6] than your [7] girl! [8] (than your girl) i will bring you home (bring you home) im more sparkle than sparkle im lovelier than love come on baby, i will get you off (get you off) Another light o’ love! [9] And i will sparkle when broken [10] absorb the glaze! [11] You see it shine? [12] absorb the glaze! [13] you’re so damn fine! babe, i’m all sugar for you [14] I am polished [15] I am polished [16] I am polished [17] I will make your head go swirl! Baby, i’m candier than candy more chrome than chrome will [18] love you [19] more [20] than your [21] girl! [22] (than your girl) i will bring you home (bring you home) im more sparkle than sparkle im lovelier than love come on baby, i will get you off (get you off) Another night o’ love! [23] CHAMBERS Alexis was listening to his favorite Popstar QUEEN LIZZY’s new single „Candy“ as he saw the notification in his inbox.  „MY PRETTIEST ANGEL! YOU’VE BEEN SUCH A LOVELY BOY! YOU EARNED YOUR SPECIAL PLACE IN MY HEART AND I WANT YOU TO BE THERE AT THE BANQUET BEFORE MY CONCERT TODAY! XXXX YOUR LIZZY“ „you are now in posession for an exclusive access code to QUEEN LIZZY’s ceremony“ Alexis was rapturing in joy. He closed the doors to his room. After all this time, he could finally be there as well. Be at the ceremony with everyone else. See the things he only heard myths about. Alexis put on his glasses and scanned LIZZY’s gift.  Alexis wanted to see her for real this time. While the livestream was loading he hummed along the refrain of LIZZY’s newest single „Candy“ and joy filled his soul.   When he opened his eyes he instantly felt, that, when standing outside the stage, aura is affirmed absolutely. [24] Alexis sensed, that life inside this building is fractured to the extent that it could not conceivably be part of a single scenario: on the 82nd floor a donkey shrinks back from the void, on the 81st a cosmopolitan couple hail a plane. [25] The expected pyramidal composition was reversed; the center, a void between the masses on either side, which became a “split pair.” [26]One could speak of this pair as a diamond. [27] Inside the stage, a void that is not a nothingness but a virtual, containing all possible particles and drawing out all possible forms, which spring up only to disappear immediately, without consistency or reference, without consequence. Chaos as an infinite speed of birth and disappearance. [28] But These dynamical models unfolded the Baroque void, or infinite determinism, into specificity. [29] All sensation is composed with the void in composing itself with itself, and everything holds together on earth and in the air, and preserves the void, is preserved in the void by preserving itself. [30] The absolute emptiness of the absolute plenitude that fascinates from the outside, to be the circular, voluble vertigo of that nothingness and that being, to be at once the total abolition that is an enslaved consciousness and the supreme glory - that is a stage for QUEEN LIZZY. [31] When Alexis slowly walked forth, with his back turned to Notre Dame and facing QUEEN LIZZY’s stage, an entrance as pulchritudinous as a Sirene, emerged itself out of seeming nothingness.He entered a great, radiant space, with diffuse light that is slowly revealed in it and that reveals that easy simultaneity of distinct perfections, synthesis of the vague with the precise. [32] The Baroque fold unfurled all the way to infinity. [33] Countlessness was part of the point: he was dizzied by infinity. [34] Alexis stared Into the void. [35] Looking for holes, looking for openings.  But“Holes” only indicate more subtle foldings. In that instant, he started to understand the principle, that there are no voids, that here everything is included in a single expressive continuum. [36] Alexis felt, that the myriad of things started to project themselves into the evolving space around him. He started to feel space. In the beginning, there was only darkness. But out of the darkness a light emerged. He felt, that it was her - but not yet. Slowly the light emerged and it got brighter when she slowly moved through space. He started to see silhouettes. He started to see colors.  It was the queens’ most baroque fantasies of glamour and stardom. [37]Light crystalline notes seemed to emerge out of the silence which accompanied the Queens glide. Somehow out of nothingness a choir as perfectly clear cut like colorful marble in the most beautiful patterns emerged. Alexis saw her gliding along the ground from far away, although he felt like he saw one short glance of her eyes going to his direction.  He glared at the fabric falling down upon her like a thin, ultra light continuous skin—clearly visible. What was especially miraculous was that especially from inside he saw the building move towards a "textile like" definition of architectonic space. [38] The ornament felt like folded embroidery encapsulated in astonishing ecstasy of colorful marble and indistinguishable textures of golden and platinum figures illuminating the fabric upon they seemed to be appended. Everything seemed like it was flickering. Flickering like a soft but strong candlelight, giving the structure a pulse. All colors seemed enhanced and the details exaggerated which made it even more dazzling in Alexis’s eyes. In the midst, his queen.  Adjacent to her path there were two banquets, with shining pearl-white layers of fabric. Filled with all the plenty of things. She seemed to be absorbing the banquet, while Alexis now knew. These heavens do not proclaim the glory of God. [39] But the heavens of his Queen.  QUEEN LIZZY.  He listened closely and let these heavenly halls enter his heart while he witnessed her, slowly vanishing the chamber. She seemed to have ingested everything she needed for todays concert, as she ascended into another chamber. For the next chamber, Alexis knew, he was not worthy enough yet. He could only imagine the things that lied beyond these magnificent gates. Alexis knew, that he needed to see her again tomorrow. And now he finally had the access code to the banquet, so he knew it was possible to see her whole ceremony, to really get to know her. And maybe. Maybe he will see her on stage someday. The magnificent stage next to the Seine, seemingly born from one of Bosch’s paintings seemed to set everything around into a dreamlike state of exuberance. Leaving even the most polished buildings around it appear to be rusted. United with all his fellow Angels, Standing in front of Notre Dame. See his QUEEN LIZZY face Notre Dame, while he, Alexis faces his LIZZY.  And perhaps, he longed. Perhaps one day. One day i might meet her in reality.  „THIS STREAM HAS ENDED! WITNESS QUEEN LIZZY AGAIN TOMORROW!“ Somber but ecstatic, Alexis takes off his glasses and puts on his favorite music, while leaving his flat for an evening stroll at the Seine. Queen Lizzy is breathless at the bacchanal  bewitched, senses submerged, her image mirrored, her mind  magicked, her emotions  modulated magnified unmoderated and maybe  immodest, herself  multiplied [40] Music sprays an anaesthetic cloud over things and drug used to spare us the terror of the real. [41] It is these traits that enable it to go anywhere, to go everywhere, into site and psyche alike, to appear ever fascinating yet ever harmless even as it plies its undermining subterfuges and sly deceits [42]. Forces come and go, from and in all directions. [43] Where do we want to go? [44] Remember: Icarus flew away, toward the sun. [45] One sees the burning heat of the sun scorch the wings of the wretched young man, as the blazing fire smokes, and one can almost hear the crackling of the burning feathers, while death can be seen sculpted on the face of Icarus, and on that of Daedalus his emotion and sharp pain. [46] Historically, thousands of subjects have done so, suffering, killing themselves, dressing, perfuming themselves, writing as if they were Werther. [47] The baroque dramatist clings fervently to the world. [48] We are expecting a move toward a falling in sync with the architecture of the Baroque, but on different levels of abstraction. [49] Contemporary time, however, can sustain these baroque illusions. [50] Today, Maximum is the ultimate ornament, the most self righteous crime, the contemporary Baroque. [51] the whole building is the decoration. [52] And Delicate bronze allegorical figures adorn the case. [53] We have seen roofs made of copper, glass, and gold, and elegantly decorated with ceilings gilded or coffered in gold, and picked out with sculpted crowns and flowers, and even statues. [54] We are in excess. [55] And excess produces virtuality. [56] By the early twenty first century, our time, a mythic time, we are all chimeras, theorized and fabricated hybrids of machine and organism; in short, we are cyborgs. The cyborg is our ontology. [57] Whereas the musical call rises from noise to meaning while avoiding both.  Vibrating softness and the hammer’s hardness. [58] Life is excess. [59] This surplus of absence, the place of nothing, when exaggerated threatens all meaning with indifference. [60] But the lights have to go on again. [61]Exactly, In indifference, the excess becomes manifest. [62] A modern ritual, a modern Bacchanalia, escalation, excess. [63] So here we go. [64] This is Queen Lizzy. If you want sex, why not go get it? [65] If dolphins go extinct, why worry? [66] If we’re all going to drown, why not jump from the highest heights and feel the rush of adrenaline? We’ll learn diving eventually. And  The point turns into a baroque pearl. [67] flashes of inspiration  fascinations colours, glitter  decadences balls: exuberances  festivals and  congregations, close  communions travel at the speed of sound, lightspeed  communication instantaneous pools of commonality the vibe and exultation, the  euphoria the sharpwit razor of precision, the  ingeniousness the shared experience the climactic joy, the sacred orgasm of life [68] When will we stop apologizing for being romantic? Why not now? Here and now? Right now. We populate the desert with singing trees and unruly blackbirds. We leave the cynical laughter behind and no longer hesitate to be naive. The cliché is not kitsch, it is simply beautiful. [69] Let's follow the hedonism creed, kick the whole world off, get out of work, go to bed, and join together with your "great Louis XIV" to shake this hypocritical world into a bright sky. [70] Ah, bless the very “false windows,” so valued as decoration and so useless in a building of artificial light and ventilation! [71] This possible world is not real, or not yet, but it exists nonetheless: it is an expressed that exists only in its expression — the face, or an equivalent of the face. [72] Then, we built churches in excess for a common belief in an artificial persona. God. Tomorrow, we will build in excess because it represents living in a world where the power lies within the plenty. The plenty is excess and she give birth to it by giving it a face in physical space. From nihilism, hedonism emerges and they will dance together in euphoria like Dionysus did with his followers.  She will acquire the plethora and give the acceleration a purpose. It is time to stop holding on to flag poles standing in the current. We should start to accept the drowning, to then be fulfilled by the current teaching us how to swim.  Excess is accepting. Excess is giving the power a face. She says: Come, live with me. Watch me exist. Because, we are part of it: we are a part of everything, every thing is part of us we were made by gods, but we create them we were made by the universe  we were created by energy we were created by code we are the probability we are the failure and the hope and the despair  we are the triumph of existence and that is what she is: she is Queen Lizzy [73] [1] Charli XCX Reddit AMA [2 ] Hugo, Notre Dame de Paris [3] Alberti, 10 books of architecture 1755 [4] Cicero, Tusculan Disputations [5] Sedlacek, Economics of Good and Evil [6] Aristotle, Poetics [7] Leibniz, Theodicy [8] Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra [9] Hugo, Notre Dame de Paris [10] Bacon, Novum Organum [11] Alberti, On the Art of Building in Ten Books 1988 [12] Asimov, Complete Robot Anthology [13] Alberti, On the Art of Building in Ten Books 1988 [14] Bacon, Novum Organum [15] Alberti, 10 books of architecture 1755 [16] Alberti, 10 books of architecture 1755 [17] Alberti, 10 books of architecture 1755 [18] Cicero, Tusculan Disputations [19] Sedlacek, Economics of Good and Evil [20] Aristotle, Poetics [21] Leibniz, Theodicy [22] Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra [23] Hugo, Notre Dame de Paris [24] Purdy, On the Ruins of Babel Architectural Metaphor in G [25] Hays, Architecture Theory since 1968 [26] Hays, Architecture Theory since 1968 [27]Harman, Towards Speculative Realism [28] Deleuze Guattari, What Is Philosophy [29] Hovestadt Buehlmann, EigenArchitecture [30] Deleuze Guattari, What Is Philosophy [31] Foucault, History of Madness [32] Blanchot, The Book to Come [33] Kaup, Neobaroque in the Americas Alternative Modernitie [34] Moore, Why We Build [35] Deleuze Guattari, A Thousand Plateaus [36] Rajchman, Constructions [37] Goldsmith, Capital New York Capital of the 20th Century [38] Acocella, Stone Architecture Ancient and Modern Construction Skills [39] Tsoukala, Intersections of Space and Ethos Routledge Resear [40] Buehlmann Hovestadt, Quantum City [41] Serres, The Incandescent [42] Sykes, Constructing A New Agenda [43] Spuybroek, The Sympathy of Things [44] Serres, Hominescence [45] Hays, Architecture Theory since 1968 [46] Vasari, The Lives of the Artists [47] Barthes, A Lover s Discourse Fragments [48] Hays, Architecture Theory since 1968 [49] Buehlmann Hovestadt, Coding as Literacy [50] Hays, Architecture Theory since 1968 [51] Sykes, Constructing A New Agenda [52] Ockmann, Architecture Culture 1943 1968 [53] Saunders, The Art and Architecture of London [4] Alberti, On the Art of Building in Ten Books 1988 [55] Zizek, Less Than Nothing [56] Schumacher, The Autopoiesis of Architecture Vol 2 [57] Haraway, Cyborg Manifesto [58] Serres, Statues [59] Negarestani Mackay, Collapse Volume VII [60] Doyle Savic Buehlmann, Ghosts of Transparency [61] Hays, Architecture Theory since 1968 [62] Doyle Savic Buehlmann, Ghosts of Transparency [63] Serres, The Birth of Physics [64] Hofstadter, I Am a Strange Loop [65] Spuybroek, The Sympathy of Things [66] Morton, Hyperobjects [67] Buehlmann Hovestadt, Symbolizing Existence [68] Buehlmann Hovestadt, Quantum City [69] Camille de Toledo, in: Goodbye Tristesse, 2005 [70] Louis XIV Show [71] Asimov, Complete Robot Anthology [72] Deleuze Guattari, What Is Philosophy [73] Buehlmann Hovestadt, Quantum City

#queenlizzy

[lati-will]

Speak To The Trees – A Spiritual Perspective On Nature

Do you hear the voice of nature?

Intellectually, it is easy to understand the many reasons to change the way that we live upon our earth. Erratic and unpredictable weather, depleted soils, unsafe drinking water, deforestation and vanishing wildlife are all obvious signs that the society we have created is unsustainable.

But even with this glaring evidence in front of us, many people are still unwilling to change or even feel that there is no problem to fix. Or worst of all, they feel that they are unable to make a difference in such a big, dysfunctional society. For many, they still cling to outdated ideals and beliefs like an old security blanket, hoping if they just stay hiding beneath it, the problems will disappear. That, or they are too uncomfortable with letting go of aspects of their lives that they feel are necessary to their happiness. It all seems so much easier to carry on with business as usual.

But why are the warning signs still not getting through? Our food security, the air we breathe, water we drink, life as we know it, are literally all at stake here. Shouldn’t this be enough to shake up humanity?

Perhaps the real problem is the disconnect that much of humanity has from the Earth. The earth is still seen as a “thing” rather than our home and our mother that longs to take care of us.

When we are disconnected we cannot hear the cries from the earth, or feel the urgency of these times, or accept the simple lessons and love that nature has to share with us.

When we approach nature from an open, spiritual perspective, we soon realize that our life upon this earth becomes an exchange and interaction with our surroundings.  There are absolutely no moments when nature will not be engaging with you once you open yourself to it.

Once we reconnect, our illusion of separation dissolves and we become aware of the oneness that flows through all of life.

Ancient cultures lived and breathed this way of life, and there are  communities around the world who still do. Fortunately, any one of us in the modern world can quite simply live a life that is spiritually connected to our earth. No matter if you are in the middle of a busy city or living your life out in the country, nature still surrounds you. It is not as easily accessible for the city dweller of course, and at times may seem challenging, but you are still breathing air and feeling sunshine, there are plants, trees, pets and birds, and therefore, nature is with you.

We are all her children, after all, and this connection is still alive inside all of us, waiting to be awakened.

There is no time to waste in reclaiming our Divine connection with our earth mother. In fact, it is our souls’ desire and part of our purpose for being here at this crucial time.

Perhaps the most beautiful discovery you will have when you reconnect with nature is the realization that nature has been waiting patiently for your return home. Nature has been waiting for this connection, this healing, since the moment you were born. This explains why babies and small children are always happy when taken outside.  They are immediately calmed because nature is familiar.

As you reconnect, no matter how many years you have been in absence, you will find that you will not be scolded, reprimanded, or punished. Nature welcomes us with open arms and unconditional love, truly accepting and appreciating us for who we are.

Nature can see our Divine light, and she teaches us to see the Divine light in all other life as well.

We recognize that everything on this earth has a consciousness, and that every plant, animal, rock, mineral, snowflake, drop of water, absolutely all of it,  has a role and a purpose. We begin to understand and honor the role that we all play as we are all helping one another throughout our ascension and the ascension of our earth.

We are all in this together, having chose to be here on the earth through this process, and the earth has chose to help us as well. Every loving act that we share helps others as well as ourselves to become lighter, brighter, ascended versions of ourselves, just as every lower vibration act, such as greed,  jealousy, or unthoughtful actions,  drops us as well.

Nature is here for us, we must simply open our hearts.

Speak to the trees, tell that bird how much you appreciate their song, let your pets know how much you love them and that you are grateful for their love. Nature is telepathic, so you don’t have to speak out loud. You can state these things in your mind as you step out to your car or are walking down the street, or even think of them as you are falling asleep, as gratitude is a great way to relax the mind and body. You will find that you wake up peaceful or that your dreams were visited by a messenger from nature with a wisdom for you, or perhaps just a display of gratitude.

As I said, nature is ready and willing to engage when we are. We have been shut off for so many years that I have found that many times when I attempt communication with an animal for the first time, they seem caught off guard by my openness. They have come to believe that we are not listening.

Walk barefoot as much as you can, feel the earth, step gently, notice the sensation of the wind upon your face, the sun on your skin, the smell in the air after a rain.  Engage all of your senses and experience nature the way that nature intended.

Many times I have had insects land upon my skin, and I have watched them as they scooted up and down my arms. I could feel the strong sensation that it was their wonder and curiousity of me which inspired them to land on my skin in the first place.

Notice plants reaching out to you as well, as they long to feel your touch upon their leaves.

Ask nature to teach you, and to heal you. Be open to the many different ways that nature will communicate with you. Be observant of all life that crosses your path. Look into plant and animal symbolism. Allow yourself to wander and see what you are drawn to. Try daydreaming of your favorite places. What is the landscape like? Is there water, mountains, forest, desert, caves, fields, or pastures? What kind of animal and plant life is there? What is the weather like? Determine what part of nature speaks to your soul. Ask her what you need to know.

Be persistent. Be sincere. Be patient. You are developing a friendship, and just as you would go about making friends with another human being, there are the same courtesies to respect in regards to building a friendship with nature as well. Yes, nature wants to communicate, but try not to be too pushy or demanding. And do not be picky about how your interactions will happen. I was stung by a bumblebee this past spring as a reminder to “wake up!” and follow my own heart. I have undergone a lot of growth this past year, and I didn’t always care for the message or the way I received it, but I am truly grateful and trusting of it as it has always been in my best interest.

Nature is a constant reflection of the life that is around her, therefore she is constantly communicating with us. She is constantly sharing her wisdoms with those who will listen.  Sometimes her reflection shows something we don’t particularly like, but it always comes with sound advice and an opportunity to grow.

No life is better than another. We are not entitled nor superior.

To nature, there is no death. She is in a state of constant ebbing and flowing like the tides. She is constantly transforming and is happy to give of herself. This is why it is of utmost importance to give thanks to the earth for her nourishment and support that she provides. A silent thank you before we take a bite of our supper, appreciation for the trees that provided our homes, or taking a moment to stop and admire the sky, no matter the weather, all of these simple acts of gratitude expand our consciousness and the consciousness of our earth.

Always remember, absolutely no act of kindness ever goes unnoticed by nature. It is only humans who often fail to notice the subtleties of life. Nature will always long to help you in return.

As our connection with the earth strengthens, we will find it impossible to not live our lives in alignment with this connection. We will find ourselves yearning to be outside more and enjoy nature peacefully, without the noise of man. We will stop and pick up that piece of trash, we will be advocates for recycling and reducing waste, and mindfully purchase what we need from responsible and compassionate farmers and companies.

We also become fulfilled with simpler activities and will notice that our need for many “things” will vanish from our lives as we begin to realize just how unnecessary many of them really are.

Not only that, as we become more sensitive to the voice of nature, we also become sensitive to the voice of our own bodies. We will notice changes in the foods that we crave and may find ourselves making healthy lifestyle changes as we become more aware of the needs of our bodies. This is us waking up to our own natures and we will find ourselves healing and shifting into greater vitality.

As our connection deepens, our presence becomes gentler, and we will not only find nature gravitating towards us, but other people will as well. Be prepared to hear comments such as, “how are you so calm?” or “you seem so happy.”

If you are a parent, you will discover that reconnecting with nature will awaken your inner child, and that you will develop a deeper bond with your own children. You will find yourself feeling like a child again, and your children will respond.  They will see you in a way that they never had before, and will know that you see them for who they really are as well.

It is when we are surrounded in the unconditional love of our earth mother that our own innocence and Divine light, and the Divine presence of the Universe, can flow through us unobstructed and uninhibited. Our true wild natures are revealed to us and set free in this space of unconditional love.

So please, step around the bugs on the ground, enjoy the songs of the birds, appreciate the purpose of all creatures, including the rats, the snakes, and the mosquitoes. Show unabashed and shameless gratitude for the food that you eat and the air that you breathe. Chew slowly, breathe deeply. Thank the water as you wash your hands, or have a bath, or when refreshing yourself as you sip. Become comfortable in your connection with your earth mother, and you will unknowingly be showing the way for others to do the same.

And this is when we truly understand the reasons for needing to change the way we live upon this earth. We actually live and become the solution every moment of our lives because we are in constant connection with the earth as she becomes integrated into our being.

We are the loving caretakers of our beautiful earth. It is our souls’ longing and purpose to do so.

Let’s allow her to be the magical place that she really is. When we do this, we will discover how magical our lives can really be as well.

And remember, it all happens one step, one moment, one day at a time. This is a connection that we are making for the long haul, so don’t beat yourself up if you don’t feel it all happening right away or if you ever feel that you aren’t doing a good enough job or being a good steward of the earth. Nature knows your heart. We are all getting there, and as long as we remain open for improvement, the changes will happen and our earth will be in good hands.

By: Jessie Klassen

#nature #trees #consciousness #subconscious #soul #spirit #life #communication #multidimensionality #articles

[frederickwiddowson]

Revelation 12:1 ¶  And there appeared a great wonder in heaven; a woman clothed with the sun, and the moon under her feet, and upon her head a crown of twelve stars: 2  And she being with child cried, travailing in birth, and pained to be delivered.

There are a couple of different ways to take chapter 12. One, is as a future event. The other is as historical background, a sort flashback in the events unfolding.

One take is that verse one could refer to Israel who will give birth to Christ.

Genesis 3:15  And I will put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed; it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel.

Here is an interesting cross reference having to do with Joseph.

Genesis 37:9  And he dreamed yet another dream, and told it his brethren, and said, Behold, I have dreamed a dream more; and, behold, the sun and the moon and the eleven stars made obeisance to me.

Read the prophet Hosea for Israel as an unfaithful wife.

Some historical commentators viewed the woman as the church itself while some American writers regarded the man-child as the United States, but this has been mentioned previously and is so wrong it need not be mentioned again.

Israel suffered greatly for her apostasy and Christ came into Israel as a Jew when the Roman Empire ruled them and they had lost all their former glory under David and Solomon. Not long after His resurrection, about forty years, Herod’s version of the Temple was destroyed by the Romans as the result of an insurrection against them by the Jews. Israel struggled and labored spiritually, politically, and physically before giving birth, in a manner of speaking, to Christ.

Is this coming up the Time of Jacob’s Trouble referenced in prophecy in Jeremiah, chapter 30?

12:3  And there appeared another wonder in heaven; and behold a great red dragon, having seven heads and ten horns, and seven crowns upon his heads.

This is clearly Satan, who is also known as Lucifer. He is, possibly, described in part physically in Job 41 as the description there is of a dragon, what we since the 1800’s have called a dinosaur. The last verse in the chapter is revealing.

[Note that leviathan references simply a large creature, just as the word whale does, and is not referring to a specific species or other taxonomic classification, which were invented after this Bible was translated and cannot be read back into it honestly.

Genesis 1:21  And God created great whales, and every living creature that moveth, which the waters brought forth abundantly, after their kind, and every winged fowl after his kind: and God saw that it was good.

Psalm 104:26  There go the ships: there is that leviathan, whom thou hast made to play therein.]

Job 41:1 ¶  Canst thou draw out leviathan with an hook? or his tongue with a cord which thou lettest down? 2  Canst thou put an hook into his nose? or bore his jaw through with a thorn? 3 Will he make many supplications unto thee? will he speak soft words unto thee? 4  Will he make a covenant with thee? wilt thou take him for a servant for ever? 5  Wilt thou play with him as with a bird? or wilt thou bind him for thy maidens? 6 Shall the companions make a banquet of him? shall they part him among the merchants? 7  Canst thou fill his skin with barbed irons? or his head with fish spears? 8  Lay thine hand upon him, remember the battle, do no more. 9  Behold, the hope of him is in vain: shall not one be cast down even at the sight of him? 10  None is so fierce that dare stir him up: who then is able to stand before me?

   11 ¶  Who hath prevented me, that I should repay him? whatsoever is under the whole heaven is mine. 12  I will not conceal his parts, nor his power, nor his comely proportion. 13  Who can discover the face of his garment? or who can come to him with his double bridle? 14  Who can open the doors of his face? his teeth are terrible round about. 15 His scales are his pride, shut up together as with a close seal. 16  One is so near to another, that no air can come between them. 17  They are joined one to another, they stick together, that they cannot be sundered. 18  By his neesings a light doth shine, and his eyes are like the eyelids of the morning. 19 Out of his mouth go burning lamps, and sparks of fire leap out. 20  Out of his nostrils goeth smoke, as out of a seething pot or caldron. 21  His breath kindleth coals, and a flame goeth out of his mouth. 22  In his neck remaineth strength, and sorrow is turned into joy before him. 23  The flakes of his flesh are joined together: they are firm in themselves; they cannot be moved. 24  His heart is as firm as a stone; yea, as hard as a piece of the nether millstone. 25  When he raiseth up himself, the mighty are afraid: by reason of breakings they purify themselves. 26  The sword of him that layeth at him cannot hold: the spear, the dart, nor the habergeon. 27  He esteemeth iron as straw, and brass as rotten wood. 28  The arrow cannot make him flee: slingstones are turned with him into stubble. 29  Darts are counted as stubble: he laugheth at the shaking of a spear. 30  Sharp stones are under him: he spreadeth sharp pointed things upon the mire. 31  He maketh the deep to boil like a pot: he maketh the sea like a pot of ointment. 32 He maketh a path to shine after him; one would think the deep to be hoary. 33  Upon earth there is not his like, who is made without fear. 34  He beholdeth all high things: he is a king over all the children of pride.

Notice another cross-reference in Isaiah.

Isaiah 27:1 ¶  In that day the LORD with his sore and great and strong sword shall punish leviathan the piercing serpent, even leviathan that crooked serpent; and he shall slay the dragon that is in the sea.

We have his color, red, and this symbology, having seven heads and ten horns, and seven crowns upon his heads.

This, most likely, is a reference to his nature and ten specific kingdoms over which he exerts control. As for Red, remember the red horse of the second seal?

Revelation 6:4  And there went out another horse that was red: and power was given to him that sat thereon to take peace from the earth, and that they should kill one another: and there was given unto him a great sword.

The crimson stain of our sin?

Isaiah 1:18  Come now, and let us reason together, saith the LORD: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.

Red is a very significant color. It was the color of baby Esau.

Genesis 25:25  And the first came out red, all over like an hairy garment; and they called his name Esau.

And, among other things, it was in the name of the sea through which God safely led the Hebrews, like the passage He makes for Christians through death and destruction.

What about the seven heads and ten horns, and seven crowns upon his heads?

Revelation 17:3  So he carried me away in the spirit into the wilderness: and I saw a woman sit upon a scarlet coloured beast, full of names of blasphemy, having seven heads and ten horns.

This woman, whom we will discuss later, possesses these seven heads and ten horns. Let’s not jump ahead as there are many things to review before we get to those explanations, which like chapters 11 and 12, maybe take us out of the linear exposition of events and give us background and an overview.

12:4  And his tail drew the third part of the stars of heaven, and did cast them to the earth: and the dragon stood before the woman which was ready to be delivered, for to devour her child as soon as it was born. 5  And she brought forth a man child, who was to rule all nations with a rod of iron: and her child was caught up unto God, and to his throne.

Satan led the third part of the stars of heaven, which we have established as angels, and they were cast to earth. This is perhaps history and whether or not it is worthy of discussion. Evidence shows us that Satan’s rebellion began a long time ago.

As the Holy Ghost gave inspiration to the writers of the Old Testament they wove a description of Satan into their descriptions of human kings and even beasts. Here, Ezekiel starts out and ends up talking about the king of Tyre, who was the very powerful ruler of that city and Phoenicia, whose merchant navy traveled the world, including rounding Africa, working tin mines in Cornwall in England, and perhaps even reaching what are today called the Americas. But, in the description a key is given that could only apply to Satan.

Ezekiel 28:13  Thou hast been in Eden the garden of God; every precious stone was thy covering, the sardius, topaz, and the diamond, the beryl, the onyx, and the jasper, the sapphire, the emerald, and the carbuncle, and gold: the workmanship of thy tabrets and of thy pipes was prepared in thee in the day that thou wast created. 14  Thou art the anointed cherub that covereth; and I have set thee so: thou wast upon the holy mountain of God; thou hast walked up and down in the midst of the stones of fire. 15  Thou wast perfect in thy ways from the day that thou wast created, till iniquity was found in thee.

In addition, Satan, the adversary, also known as Lucifer, had his motivations exposed early on. In speaking to the king of Babylon, Isaiah gives us this;

Isaiah 14:12  How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! how art thou cut down to the ground, which didst weaken the nations! 13 For thou hast said in thine heart, I will ascend into heaven, I will exalt my throne above the stars of God: I will sit also upon the mount of the congregation, in the sides of the north: 14 I will ascend above the heights of the clouds; I will be like the most High. 15  Yet thou shalt be brought down to hell, to the sides of the pit.

One would think that the reference in Isaiah can be linked to these verses in Revelation 12 and that at least some of these verses by virtue of Christ’s statement in Luke 10:18 are historical events of Christ’s time and the ascension of the Roman Empire around Christ’s birth.

The evidence we have in the Bible shows the sons of God, whose visible representatives are called angels, like any visible representative of God, man on earth, or even a church, is called an angel, which we have already discussed as having in part succumbed to Satan’s pride and temptation.

The question is, do these verses following have to do with this mention in Revelation, chapter 12? Or is 12 referring to a future event?

Genesis 6:1 ¶  And it came to pass, when men began to multiply on the face of the earth, and daughters were born unto them, 2  That the sons of God saw the daughters of men that they were fair; and they took them wives of all which they chose.

3 ¶  And the LORD said, My spirit shall not always strive with man, for that he also is flesh: yet his days shall be an hundred and twenty years.

4 ¶  There were giants in the earth in those days; and also after that, when the sons of God came in unto the daughters of men, and they bare children to them, the same became mighty men which were of old, men of renown. 5  And GOD saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every imagination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually.

Jude 1:6  And the angels which kept not their first estate, but left their own habitation, he hath reserved in everlasting chains under darkness unto the judgment of the great day.

In any event, Satan knew Christ was coming, and wanted to kill Him, but did not know when.

Genesis 3:15  And I will put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed; it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel.

Jeremiah 31:22  How long wilt thou go about, O thou backsliding daughter? for the LORD hath created a new thing in the earth, A woman shall compass a man.

This gives us a spiritual reason why Israel was so deceived and spiritually buffeted about as Satan did everything in his power to destroy them both physically and spiritually. We must remember, though, that Satan could go no further than God allowed. We have that certainty from reading the book of Job. It also explains why he tested and tempted Christ to try to have Him seek a crown before a cross, thus trying to overthrow God’s plan.

Luke 4:1 ¶  And Jesus being full of the Holy Ghost returned from Jordan, and was led by the Spirit into the wilderness, 2  Being forty days tempted of the devil. And in those days he did eat nothing: and when they were ended, he afterward hungered. 3  And the devil said unto him, If thou be the Son of God, command this stone that it be made bread. 4  And Jesus answered him, saying, It is written, That man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word of God. 5  And the devil, taking him up into an high mountain, shewed unto him all the kingdoms of the world in a moment of time. 6  And the devil said unto him, All this power will I give thee, and the glory of them: for that is delivered unto me; and to whomsoever I will I give it. 7 If thou therefore wilt worship me, all shall be thine. 8  And Jesus answered and said unto him, Get thee behind me, Satan: for it is written, Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve. 9  And he brought him to Jerusalem, and set him on a pinnacle of the temple, and said unto him, If thou be the Son of God, cast thyself down from hence: 10  For it is written, He shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee: 11  And in their hands they shall bear thee up, lest at any time thou dash thy foot against a stone. 12  And Jesus answering said unto him, It is said, Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God. 13  And when the devil had ended all the temptation, he departed from him for a season.

Ruling the nations with a rod of iron will occur in the millennial reign of Christ. See this in a great chapter on the rising up of the kings of the earth as spelled out later in Revelation at the end of the millennium, Psalm 2.

Psalm 2:1 ¶  Why do the heathen rage, and the people imagine a vain thing? 2 The kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers take counsel together, against the LORD, and against his anointed, saying, 3  Let us break their bands asunder, and cast away their cords from us. 4  He that sitteth in the heavens shall laugh: the Lord shall have them in derision. 5  Then shall he speak unto them in his wrath, and vex them in his sore displeasure. 6 Yet have I set my king upon my holy hill of Zion.

   7 ¶  I will declare the decree: the LORD hath said unto me, Thou art my Son; this day have I begotten thee. 8  Ask of me, and I shall give thee the heathen for thine inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for thy possession. 9  Thou shalt break them with a rod of iron; thou shalt dash them in pieces like a potter’s vessel.

   10 ¶  Be wise now therefore, O ye kings: be instructed, ye judges of the earth. 11 Serve the LORD with fear, and rejoice with trembling. 12  Kiss the Son, lest he be angry, and ye perish from the way, when his wrath is kindled but a little. Blessed are all they that put their trust in him.

This promise is given in chapter 2 of Revelation, as well, to those who reign with Christ.

Revelation 2:26  And he that overcometh, and keepeth my works unto the end, to him will I give power over the nations: 27  And he shall rule them with a rod of iron; as the vessels of a potter shall they be broken to shivers: even as I received of my Father. 28  And I will give him the morning star.

Of course, Christ is the morning star (not Satan, as the NIV states in Isaiah 14:12 parroting noted 19th century Satanist Madame Blavatsky in her book The Secret Doctrine).

Revelation 22:16  I Jesus have sent mine angel to testify unto you these things in the churches. I am the root and the offspring of David, and the bright and morning star.

After His ascension to Heaven  Jesus is said to be seated next to God the Father, as a symbol of His authority and place, with God, as God.

Psalm 110:1  « A Psalm of David. » The LORD said unto my Lord, Sit thou at my right hand, until I make thine enemies thy footstool.

Matthew 26:64  Jesus saith unto him, Thou hast said: nevertheless I say unto you, Hereafter shall ye see the Son of man sitting on the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven.

Mark 16:19  So then after the Lord had spoken unto them, he was received up into heaven, and sat on the right hand of God.

Luke 22:69  Hereafter shall the Son of man sit on the right hand of the power of God.

12:6  And the woman fled into the wilderness, where she hath a place prepared of God, that they should feed her there a thousand two hundred and threescore days.

If Israel is the woman then during the 3 ½ years of 360 days each as per the ancient calculation, which is 1260 days, the Jews will have to flee the most intense persecution of their entire existence. If those surviving Jews have to hide in the remote vastness of, for instance, Edom, during the Great Tribulation then who are those people living in Jerusalem? Muslims?

Matthew 24:21  For then shall be great tribulation, such as was not since the beginning of the world to this time, no, nor ever shall be. 22  And except those days should be shortened, there should no flesh be saved: but for the elect’s sake those days shall be shortened.

12:7  And there was war in heaven: Michael and his angels fought against the dragon; and the dragon fought and his angels, 8  And prevailed not; neither was their place found any more in heaven. 9  And the great dragon was cast out, that old serpent, called the Devil, and Satan, which deceiveth the whole world: he was cast out into the earth, and his angels were cast out with him.

Michael was introduced in Daniel as the specific angel representing Israel.

Daniel 10:13  But the prince of the kingdom of Persia withstood me one and twenty days: but, lo, Michael, one of the chief princes, came to help me; and I remained there with the kings of Persia. …21  But I will shew thee that which is noted in the scripture of truth: and there is none that holdeth with me in these things, but Michael your prince.

Daniel 12:1  And at that time shall Michael stand up, the great prince which standeth for the children of thy people: and there shall be a time of trouble, such as never was since there was a nation even to that same time: and at that time thy people shall be delivered, every one that shall be found written in the book. [Keep in mind that Daniel doesn’t see or, perhaps, understand the church age.]

Jude 1:9  Yet Michael the archangel, when contending with the devil he disputed about the body of Moses, durst not bring against him a railing accusation, but said, The Lord rebuke thee.

So, when was the devil cast out? Again, is this future or past?  Remember, Satan in Eden and had a respected position there, perhaps as God’s priest, based on what he wore.

Ezekiel 28:13  Thou hast been in Eden the garden of God; every precious stone was thy covering, the sardius, topaz, and the diamond, the beryl, the onyx, and the jasper, the sapphire, the emerald, and the carbuncle, and gold: the workmanship of thy tabrets and of thy pipes was prepared in thee in the day that thou wast created. 14  Thou art the anointed cherub that covereth; and I have set thee so: thou wast upon the holy mountain of God; thou hast walked up and down in the midst of the stones of fire. 15  Thou wast perfect in thy ways from the day that thou wast created, till iniquity was found in thee.

He plotted the overthrow of God’s heavenly order in his mind.

Isaiah 14:12  How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! how art thou cut down to the ground, which didst weaken the nations! 13 For thou hast said in thine heart, I will ascend into heaven, I will exalt my throne above the stars of God: I will sit also upon the mount of the congregation, in the sides of the north: 14 I will ascend above the heights of the clouds; I will be like the most High.

You can see that he wished to be a god like God and this is the idea he tried to plant in Adam and Eve’s heads.

Genesis 3:5  For God doth know that in the day ye eat thereof, then your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil.

Is the following Godly sarcasm?

Psalm 82:1 ¶  « A Psalm of Asaph. » God standeth in the congregation of the mighty; he judgeth among the gods. 2  How long will ye judge unjustly, and accept the persons of the wicked? Selah. 3  Defend the poor and fatherless: do justice to the afflicted and needy. 4  Deliver the poor and needy: rid them out of the hand of the wicked. 5  They know not, neither will they understand; they walk on in darkness: all the foundations of the earth are out of course.

   6 ¶  I have said, Ye are gods; and all of you are children of the most High. 7  But ye shall die like men, and fall like one of the princes. 8  Arise, O God, judge the earth: for thou shalt inherit all nations.

And Jesus’ reference to it in a manner of saying, perhaps, you think you are gods in the flesh and yet you say I am blaspheming when I say I am the Son of God?

John 10:30  I and my Father are one. 31  Then the Jews took up stones again to stone him. 32  Jesus answered them, Many good works have I shewed you from my Father; for which of those works do ye stone me? 33  The Jews answered him, saying, For a good work we stone thee not; but for blasphemy; and because that thou, being a man, makest thyself God. 34  Jesus answered them, Is it not written in your law, I said, Ye are gods? 35  If he called them gods, unto whom the word of God came, and the scripture cannot be broken; 36  Say ye of him, whom the Father hath sanctified, and sent into the world, Thou blasphemest; because I said, I am the Son of God?

And when the seventy Christ sent out to Israel returned

Luke 10:17 ¶  And the seventy returned again with joy, saying, Lord, even the devils are subject unto us through thy name. 18  And he said unto them, I beheld Satan as lightning fall from heaven.

Again, is it future or past? Did the war in heaven happen during Christ’s time?  Or, is it a future event? Events in the spiritual world may not be linked to our timeframe, by the way. Consider that we have a very fuzzy notion of the orderly sequence of events outside of the physical world.

Here verse 9, by the way, is a link showing that Satan’s true nature is reptilian in form. See this cross-reference and then remember Job, chapter 41.

Isaiah 27:1 ¶  In that day the LORD with his sore and great and strong sword shall punish leviathan the piercing serpent, even leviathan that crooked serpent; and he shall slay the dragon that is in the sea.

12:10  And I heard a loud voice saying in heaven, Now is come salvation, and strength, and the kingdom of our God, and the power of his Christ: for the accuser of our brethren is cast down, which accused them before our God day and night. 11  And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb, and by the word of their testimony; and they loved not their lives unto the death.

Here is a hint of when this is taking place. Satan accused the brethren night and day before God, so, as in Job, he still had access to God’s throne even after he lost his place of authority as the anointed cherub that covereth.

Job 1:6  Now there was a day when the sons of God came to present themselves before the LORD, and Satan came also among them.

And this was not just a one-time thing.

Job 2:1  Again there was a day when the sons of God came to present themselves before the LORD, and Satan came also among them to present himself before the LORD.

An important point here is that Christ’s people overcome not by war with guns and bullets but by Christ’s blood, their witness, and by being willing to die for Christ. One example of the great conflict between worldly Christianity and the faith of the Bible is the fictional work from the 1800’s entitled Uncle Tom’s Cabin. In it, in spite of the racism of the author as proved in her later relationships with black Americans, the main character dies rather than violate his submission to Christ in hurting others as it is demanded that he become a wicked overseer, prompting the salvation of his murderers at his death. The world vilifies Tom and calling someone an, “Uncle Tom,” is an insult in the black community as cooperating with whites in their presumed oppression. However, Tom is the most Christ-like character in fiction. Conservative Christians will glorify a man who goes to war and kills many people before they will glorify someone willing to die for Christ so white or black, the worldly Christian would not be able to face being killed for Christ as many martyrs have done and are doing now in other parts of the world.

So, when someone says that they would never take the Mark of the Beast it is almost laughable. A willingness to die for Christ is not a character trait of most modern day American Christians. Calling in the Marines, maybe, but not dying for Christ in a triumphant entry into eternity.

   12:12 ¶  Therefore rejoice, ye heavens, and ye that dwell in them. Woe to the inhabiters of the earth and of the sea! for the devil is come down unto you, having great wrath, because he knoweth that he hath but a short time. 13  And when the dragon saw that he was cast unto the earth, he persecuted the woman which brought forth the man child. 14  And to the woman were given two wings of a great eagle, that she might fly into the wilderness, into her place, where she is nourished for a time, and times, and half a time, from the face of the serpent. 15  And the serpent cast out of his mouth water as a flood after the woman, that he might cause her to be carried away of the flood. 16 And the earth helped the woman, and the earth opened her mouth, and swallowed up the flood which the dragon cast out of his mouth. 17  And the dragon was wroth with the woman, and went to make war with the remnant of her seed, which keep the commandments of God, and have the testimony of Jesus Christ.

At this time, it is better to be in heaven, the abode of God and the blessed dead, than to live on the earth. This passage seems to make it clear that Satan’s final casting down will be to earth during this Great Tribulation.

The woman, in my estimation a reference to Israel, is given supernatural power to escape as God did for the Hebrews in the Exodus.

Exodus 19:4  Ye have seen what I did unto the Egyptians, and how I bare you on eagles’ wings, and brought you unto myself.

For three and a half years, a time, times, and half a time, the remnant of Israel is protected from the wrath of Satan while the two witnesses torment Satan’s people, some of whom, as we saw, wind up giving glory to God.

Satan uses water as a flood to try to destroy Israel. This disaster is prevented by the earth absorbing the water. Is this figurative language representing something other than that which is literally stated? It doesn’t appear so considering the literal natural disasters that are listed in Revelation.

Satan goes to make war with the Israel’s remnant. Is that the 144,000 Jews of the 12 tribes, 12,000 each, that God set apart for Himself? They follow the Law given to Moses and trust in Christ. It is important to note that later the testimony of Christ is said to be the spirit of prophecy.

Revelation 19:10  And I fell at his feet to worship him. And he said unto me, See thou do it not: I am thy fellowservant, and of thy brethren that have the testimony of Jesus: worship God: for the testimony of Jesus is the spirit of prophecy.