sunlightreverie

[sunlightreverie]

I've been writing Caitlyn/Vi with my friend on discord since Arcane S2 dropped, but dear god the urge to return here just to write Jinx is strong.

Never catch me missing out writing a woman who had amazing potential but was manipulated by men the people who were supposed to care for them into becoming someone they never wanted to be!!!

[sunlightreverie]

work has been nuts this week, but i have replies started in my drafts, should come this weekend :)

[sunlightreverie]

what are you the patron saint of?

patron saint of horror

you're the patron saint of the dawning moment of realization. the patron saint of comprehension, maybe. the patron saint of understanding. the patron saint of knowing exactly what's going to happen. of seeing clearly. of not being able to look away.

tagged by: @skysplita tagging: @hevives @graunblida

[sunlightreverie]

@hevives asked: ‘ maybe he died of boredom . ’ for echo!

stumbling across a dead body is perhaps the most familiar thing that's happened to echo in the six months that they've lived in space. it took nearly a week for her to reliably open the doors and turn on the artificial lights. even now, she finds herself spending the bulk of her hours aimlessly wandering the ring, waiting for raven to ask her to move heavy boxes or hold equipment, her strength one of the only useful skills she still has on a floating piece of tek. but this...

the leathered skin of the desiccated corpse is no different than that of the pour souls who'd found themselves lost in azgeda's caves, caught in the frozen wasteland of winter and left to rot. with one knee up, one leg stretched out in front of him, murphy's comment is a real possibility. whether he was left behind or stayed by choice, it's easy to imagine why someone here alone would sit down and never get back up again.

"not the most dignified way to go," echo murmurs, crouching down to inspect the body with a slightly closer eye. everything is worth something here, she's learned. "what did you do with your dead? given how much raven and monty panic over the slightest fire, i can't imagine you burned them."

[sunlightreverie]

(    *    & .    —    SARA  LANCE  SENTENCE  STARTERS .

‘  and  i ,   as  they  say ,   think  you’re  full  of  crap .  ’

‘  and  i’m  just  saying :   shut  up .  ’

‘  and  thanks  for  the  shag  too ,   that  was  great .  ’

‘  are  we  really  this  damaged ?  ’

‘  can  we  have  a  little  bit  more  of  some  nonverbal  communication ?  ’

‘  deep  down ,   i  am  death .  ’

‘  don’t  look  so  surprised .   i  haven’t  been  gone  that  long .  ’

‘  fine ,   but  when  i  mourn ,   i  drink .  ’

‘  get  him  some  water  and  maybe  his  fidget  spinner .  ’

‘  here’s  to  being  two  regular  people  on  a  completely  normal  first  date .  ’

‘  hey ,   it’s  okay .   let’s  talk  this  one  through .  ’

‘  how  are  you ?   how’s  your  butt ?  ’

‘  i  died .   i’m  still  picking  up  those  pieces .  ’

‘  i  don’t  deserve  forgiveness .  ’

‘  i  just  like  the  taste  of  scotch .  ’

‘  i  know  one  thing …   i’m  home .  ’

‘  i  like  men ,   and  i  like  women .  ’

‘  i  only  know  how  to  stab ,   punch ,   or  skewer  things .  ’

‘  i  spent  six  years  in  the  darkness  and  i  looked  into  the  eyes  of  the  devil  and  i  gave  him  my  soul .  ’

‘  if  this  really  is  the  end  of  the  world  then  i  choose  surround  myself  with  you  guys .  ’

‘  it’s  not  useless ,   i  know  ten  different  ways  to  kill  somebody  with  this .  ’

‘  i’ll  take  a  nightmare  that’s  real  over  a  dream  that’s  a  lie .  ’

‘  i’m  admitting  something  that  could  save  us  both …   i  love  you .  ’

‘  i’m  damaged .  ’

‘  i’m  good ,   a  little  hungover ,   but  i’ll  survive .  ’

‘  i’m  just  tired  of  always  being  the  bad  cop ,   you  know ?  ’

‘  i’m  not  protecting  him ,   i’m  protecting  you .  ’

‘  i’m  not  that  easy  to  kill .  ’

‘  i’m  sick  and  tired  of  playing  mom .  ’

‘  i’m  surrounded  by  my  exes .   this  is  hell .  ’

‘  i’m  the  kind  of  girl  you  take  to  an  exorcism .  ’

‘  kicking  ass  is  how  we  heal .  ’

‘  killing  is  never  easy ,   especially  for  a  good  man .  ’

‘  mama’s  got  a  headache .  ’

‘  maybe  he  died  of  boredom .  ’

‘  mercy  killing  is  not  my  style .   even  if  it  was ,   you  don’t  deserve  my  mercy .  ’

‘  no  to  a  life  without  pain  or  regret .  ’

‘  no  woman  should  ever  suffer  at  the  hands  of  men .  ’

‘  no ,   you  deserve  someone  better .   but  i’m  not  that  person  and  i  never  will  be .  ’

‘  nope .   after  that  party  you  are  grounded .  ’

‘  now  lets  go  kick  some  ass .  ’

‘  oh  please ,   i  was  seducing  you .  ’

‘  our  friends  and  family …   they  don’t  make  us  weaker ,   they  make  us  stronger .  ’

‘  put  on  your  sunday  best  because  we’re  going  to  church .  ’

‘  shoot  now ,   explain  later .  ’

‘  so ,   about  that  ultimatum …  ’

‘  sometimes  we  screw  things  up  for  the  better .  ’

‘  that’s  just  the  thing .   i  can’t  decide .   i  love  them  both .  ’

‘  the  hardest  thing  i  ever  had  to  do  in  my  life  was  let  them  live .  ’

‘  the  only  thing  we  know  about  each  other  is  what  we  look  like  with  clothes  off .  ’

‘  there’s  no  magical  cure  for  what’s  wrong  with  me .  ’

‘  there’s  too  much  darkness  inside  of  me .   i  can’t  control  it .  ’

‘  today  is  the  day  that  we  prove  that  we’re  not  losers .  ’

‘  we  all  have  regrets .   but  we  can’t  undo  the  things  that  we’ve  done .  ’

‘  we  don’t  have  the  luxury  of  running  away  and  hiding .   not  with  the  fight  we  have  ahead  of  us .  ’

‘  well ,   everyone  is  being  uncharacteristically  pleasant .  ’

‘  well ,   i  think  what  we  could  both  use  is  a  glass  of  wine .  ’

‘  well ,   this  isn’t  exactly  how  i  imagined  meeting  your  parents .   not  that  i  imagined  meeting  your  parents .   i  just …  ’

‘  we’re  from  the  future …   and  spoiler  alert :   you  don’t  age  well .  ’

‘  we’re  kind  of  all - stars  of  bad  first  impressions ,   so  i  think  you’ll  fit  in  great .  ’

‘  what  in  the  disney  hell  is  that ?  ’

‘  what ,   you  guys  weren’t  going  to  save  me  any  pie ?  ’

‘  when  you  put  it  that  way ,   it  does  sound  kind  of  petty .  ’

‘  you  are  wonderful  and  i …   and  i’ve  never  been  this  happy  in  my  life .  ’

‘  you  deserve  better ,   you  deserve  so  much  better .  ’

‘  you  don’t  have  to  give  into  the  darkness .   you  can  fight  it .  i  know  because  i  fight  it  every  day .  ’

‘  you  should  really  see  your  face  right  now .  ’

‘  you’re  more  miserable  than  usual .  ’

[sunlightreverie]

the hard pant of her breath condensed in the air, just visible through the chill of the setting sun and the first reaches of winter's cold, unforgiving hand. but the exertion of their spar left echo warm, with nothing but the hot rush of blood underneath her skin and the prickle of sweat on the back of her neck.

she took in octavia in all of her flickering, fire-cast glory.

a skaigada turned gona, born of stardust yet more at home with earth and iron in her hands. perhaps it was the act of falling, the rebirth of a phoenix from the ashes of their collision that left octavia crawling through the mud with that spark in her eye. perhaps it was the years of hiding, a fugitive, that gave her the resolve to survive, no matter the cost.

(perhaps there was something different about girls who've seen the world from beneath the floorboards, after all.)

she was nearly startled by the speed with which octavia rushed her, throwing up her own staff last minute to the loud clack of wood on wood. her boot dug into the frost-kissed dirt, anchoring herself on the defensive before her back hit the rough edge of the stone behind her.

a smile tugged at her lips as the limestone dug into her shoulder blade, ignoring the instinctual urge to sweep at her feet in favor of letting her revel in her victory.

"mmm perhaps you are," she teased back, their breaths mingling in the close space. "---a wooden one, like the yongons use in their street play."

she'd find the package from the blacksmith on her cot soon enough when they returned.

@sunlightreverie asked: come over here and make me , then .

Like the dark expanse of sky, star - studded and alight with the last rays of waning dusk, the very earth itself seemed to glitter with the glisten of crackling firelight and sprawling, indomitable frost; with warped steel from the wreckage of farm station, scattered in the brush, and something almost teasing in Echo's eyes.

Digging her boot - heel into the soil, Octavia raised her fists, the way she'd been taught, practically every night since she'd put the dropship behind her — since she'd pried the blood - stained bindings from her warpainted savior's wrists and let her go, past Bellamy's armed guards, through the pastiche jumble of camp walls. Adjusted her grip on her makeshift bo staff, snatched up from the ground somewhere between Azgeda's border and the river, and shifted with more preparedness than she'd ever felt on the Ark.

More daring than she'd ever been allowed to feel, without the fear of being punished for the crime of existing.

Unhampered by the sweat prickling at her temple, by the exhaustion already settling into her limbs, Octavia made to dash forward, before Echo could make any real move to keep her at arm's length. Knocked into her, hard, the length of her makeshift, practically harmless weapon wedged between their chests, and forced her back, against the rocky carapace that'd shielded them from view.

A first in their training.

" How about now? " she riposted, the breath she let loose rough with fatigue, yet full of mirth; full of victory. " You still think I'm not ready to handle a sword? "

[sunlightreverie]

I spent an absolutely lovely weekend visiting my bff @aliasinvestigate! I will be back to replies this week!

[sunlightreverie]

not to be dramatic but the trauma of being a daughter is real and my relationship with my mother is and will always be one of the most devastating and complex relationships i will ever experience

[sunlightreverie]

always half tempted to make a caard, always lazy af about image editing 🙃 

[sunlightreverie]

scotch swirls warm and amber in her glass, her own reflection distorting on the surface as she stares down. she throws it back, downing two fingers to erase her visage in an oversized gulp that burns on the way down, hot and cold and taking her breath as she struggles under the weight of alex's conviction.

"maybe you're right," she returns, setting her glass on the table with a solid tink. "but my blood is still luthor. it's only a matter of time before the genetic timebomb goes off and takes me too."

her worst fear laid bare -- that she, too, could become the villain in more than just a tmz headline. that her mind could be corrupted without the permission of her heart, and everyone she holds close could be ruined in her wake.

"just --- promise me that when they task you with taking me down, you do it right. i don't want to become the next lex, wreaking havoc from inside a cell."

@sunlightreverie asked: " look at me. this is who i am, no matter how much you pretend it isn't. " - from lena

Drawing the zenith of her attention from the glass dangling loosely from her hand, — a habit that'd lessened in recent months, but that still stuck the same way that gunpowder residue did, the same way some grudges did — Alex offered a glance that clung to a certain sombreness that not even the furrow in her brow could diminish. An underlying sense of sympathy that hadn't always been there.

" I haven't always agreed with the things that you've done, " she supplied. Myriad. The numerous experiments she'd conducted just to watch Reign come alive in Sam's violated skin — the secrets she'd kept along the way. The kinds of endeavours that might have painted her in the same light as her infamous brother in the public's eyes. " But I know you, Lena. You have a good heart. ”

[sunlightreverie]

[ to >> Jessica Jones ] I'm NOT telling one of the best up and coming artists in the world that I had a stroke and ordered a $10k portrait [ to >> Jessica Jones ] Last thing we need is another "Patsy relapse?" article on TMZ [ to >> Jessica Jones ] Besides, who said it was skintight OR a leotard?

her eyes flick from her phone to her computer screen, to the tab of the philipp plein website.

"well, it's not a cape..." she murmurs, clicking add to cart on an a pink frilled baby dress with hearts and skulls.

[ to >> Jessica Jones ] There's plenty of cute that isn't Disney [ to >> Jessica Jones ] No baby capes for no Patsy merch [ to >> Jessica Jones ] Deal?

❛❛ jesus christ, trish, ❜❜ harshes under her breath when reads the reply. jessica screws her eyes closed with every inch of her inimitable strength to not imagine the shitshow of embarrassment that might come with sketched copies of her playing dress-up on every block in hell's kitchen.

[ 𝚝𝚘: 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚎𝚛 ]: why not? just explain that you had a fucking stroke or something & now you need something else. [ 𝚝𝚘: 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚎𝚛 ]: like a portrait of your childhood cat. [ 𝚝𝚘: 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚎𝚛 ]: i don't give a shit what it is as long as it's not pictures of me in some skintight leotard dancing around the city.

still ... even with her teeth gripped tight & the rifled rejection that comes with every reminder that once ... she'd entertained that spark of desire to be a real hero, trish's next text tilts her shoulders down. her next response is gentler.

[ 𝚝𝚘: 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚎𝚛 ]: we're picking them out together. & i get veto power. [ 𝚝𝚘: 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚎𝚛 ]: for ground rules, disney characters are cute. capes are a no-go.

[sunlightreverie]

“Having a soft heart in a cruel world is courage, not weakness.”

— Katherine Henson

[sunlightreverie]

something familiar lies in the endless depths of the black eyes staring back at her. her feet warm inside her designer chelsea boots, the memory of smoking brimstone beneath her steps, rather than the endless concrete of new york. she sees the flicker of a spark in the demon's gnarled hands, readying a flame as if to remind her where he comes from.

"----it's right there, next to the lamp post!" trish entreats, pointing to the ghastly figure hiding between the light. "maybe... maybe you have to focus on it, right between the shadow and the light when it flickers."

her pulse thunders in her ears, heartbeat too fast, too ready to fight. there's an itch at her fingertips, weight settling on the balls of her feet as she groans, a frustrated noise curling up the back of her throat as she drops jess's hand and steps forward.

she reached of the imp; he's fast, inhumanely so, and evades trish's grip. the flame that he sends her way, snarling, she catches, however, palm open to. catch the red-hot fire as if it were a tennis ball.

"---- damn it," she swears, as the demon disappears in a whorl of smoke, trish clutching her fist to her chest as the white-hot sting of a fresh burn singes at her nerve endings. her breath comes in pants as her shoulders instinctively curl in, protective. only when she's able to catch a breath, can she force her fingers to uncurl, looking at the bright white blisters and the eery, too-black soot coating around the edges.

"you can see this, can't you?" she asks jess, holding out her injured hand. "they're real, jess! i tried to grab him and he did this." the pain in her hand and the anxiety of the unknown have her teetering, eyes hot and blurring as she blinks, trying not to let herself unravel. "please, i need you to believe me."

things like this don't just happen. or when they do, it's under the inky aura of pseudo science claiming to save people's lives or create a soldier so powerful that they could save the day from any evil threat. but the insidious, sneaking truth piggybacking with every outcome is that the greater good it promises is tinged with gangrenous greed. the provenance of her own powers ( never asked for ) is a blank hold in her mind peppered with window glass & scorched rubber skid marks.

jessica mulls over the comment, lips itching for a friendly pull off a filter to steady her nerves. ❝ simpson never mentioned a lot of shit until he did. ❞ that square-jawed, clean-cut guilt the first day she'd met him coming down off kilgrave's marionette strings barely holds a shadow to the dilated pupil-ed mercenary that shattered shotgun blasts through the plaster backdrop that still serves as her apartment slash office decor. but trish is right about one thing ---- demons in the military would be one helluva distraction.

& that kind of diversion can only lead to catastrophic destruction. if koslov & his lackeys are involved, it's of a distinctly different ilk.

so jessica finds herself thudding boots down the alleys outside her apartment, in tow of trish's frantic pulling trying to piece something together out of the muddy, amorphous pieces eluding her typical analytical puzzling. when they come to a stop, she looks. there's light pouring in from the street lamps, neon signs contaminating the sky up above. she's used to scrutinizing shadows & pulling narratives out of silhouettes. it's a living, one that very often makes itself out of philanderers & thieves. but this time ...

❝ i don't see anything. ❞ drops the register of her voice. she doesn't bother trying to pry away the vise of trish's fingers from her own, just offers a soft dash of her head from side to side. ❝ just a dumpster behind the building. ❞ brow arching, she chances to ask. ❝ where is it? ❞

[sunlightreverie]

everything aches. by the time she manages to open the door and toe off her heels, her feet almost feel like they sink into the floors. a sigh escapes in relief as she sets her bag down on the chair, shouldering off her woolen pea coat and finally letting her shoulders falls from their luthor-rigid posture.

"today was a bear," she says, padding from the entryway into the kitchen, toes stretching against the floorboards. "the board wanted to argue if the new research division followed in line with the 'luthor legacy.' honestly, i've half a mind to fire them all just to make my life easier."

her hands reach for a wine glass, for the stoppered bottle on the counter. she pours heavy, tipping the glass back to her lips for a solid swallow before she tops off her glass and turns around, leaning against the counter.

"please tell me there's food, because i'm absolutely starving."

@ciphcrs

[sunlightreverie]

with a ironclad hold on her posture, eyes fixed steady on the woman before her, the edges of lena's cool spiderweb and crack before her. for more than twenty years, she has been a luthor, with a lengthy repertoire of practiced reactions for every situation, and yet the implications of alex's presence has her spiraling off-script.

"------i think that would have been a good start, yes," she says, setting her tablet down on the steel workstation to look at alex.

"this can't..." be your results, she wants to say, but the words find themselves wedged in the back of her throat, threatening to steal her breath.

"does kara know about this??" she manages instead, eyes pleading at alex as she looks to her. "how the hell did this happen?"

Secrecy, and maintaining it, whatever the cost, was scarcely an unexplored phenomena to Alex.

It'd been the very driving force behind her ascent up the DEO's higher echelons, the thing that'd kept Kara from falling into enemy hands, or worse. It'd served her then, just as it'd served a city unaware, for the longest time, of its extraterrestrial inhabitants. Now, walled in inside a laboratory that almost reminded her of Sam, her reticence ( a lie, in all truth, her absence from game night explained away with a vapid footnote of a nonexistent headache and work to do ) was as much for herself as it was for her sister.

And yet no persistent surge of steadfastness — reckless, restive resolve — that upheld her decision could completely eradicate the anticipant flutter that made itself at home in her gut the moment Lena strode into the room.

" Look — I know what you're thinking, " Alex supplied, gown - clad, a signed waiver already sitting on the hospital grade sheet by her side — her undisguised presence on its own enough to feel a little too much like getting caught red handed. " That I should have talked to you about this. "

[sunlightreverie]

JESSICA JONES X TRISH WALKER (MARVEL)

[sunlightreverie]

nothing much surprises her anymore. the old gods of the norse, aliens, alien-human hybrids, synthezoids.... their team grows more eclectic as the threats grow more unimaginable, but natasha prides herself on taking it in stride. finding herself on assignment with the goddess of truth, however, leaves a coil of unease winding itself inside her belly like a serpent ready to strike.

what is truth, beyond a matter of circumstance? truth is historically defined by the victors, naysayers subdued, killed, erased until only the wanted narrative prevails.

what is truth to a woman who's own memories lay over top of each other, each true in the way she remembers, her body moves, her mind feels?

she eyes the round golden lasso with discomfort distrust before turning her eyes back to the monitors ahead of her.

"we should have another couple of hours before they start to show up," she says, adjusting one of the cameras to zoom out on the alley.

her gaze shifts to diana, brow quirking as she nods at the lasso. "you know, i'd thought those things were just for american cowboys," she says, levity lifting her tone. "but i gotta say, tying up some of these assholes and having some 'fun' with them is starting to sound like a good deal."

@am4zon