JESSICA. / JONES.

you look back at the mess you've made, and you try to pick up the pieces. ( but you couldn't prevent this. ) who are you at the end of the day? yourself or an image of yourself that you create? what is peace but a mourning song written to the lost? what is loss but realizing you've been wrong every step of the way?

[alivses]

「 HAYDEN. 」

Hayden doesn’t know how to deal with the anger, now it doesn’t feel right with he strength in his body. “How about a drink THEN we punch a car.” He moves to plop down in one of the chairs, a hand moving to push some of his hair out of his face. “I don’t know how to like process what happened to me, how to deal with having super strength — where do you begin with living with it?”

❝  you’ve got yourself a deal.  ❞  and so she slides a second glass over towards the super-soldier.  ❝  you good with whiskey? i don’t have much other fancy shit. might have some vodka left— shit, no, drank that, too.  ❞  thus the bottle of whiskey finds its way passed between them. her head tilts back and she drinks a moment, then proceeds to palm the chipped glass in her hand. she stares into the liquor for a moment, then puffs out a sigh.  ❝  it fucking sucks, i’ll tell you that much. won’t make it sound pretty for you. i broke a fucking sink when i first found out. threw my foster mom into a wall. feels like — you’ve got to walk on eggshells the rest of you life, cuz everyone else is too fucking fragile. it’s sort of like — riding a bike again. some shit like that. i’m sure there’s a better analogy, but that’s the one you’re gonna get. what i mean is. you’ve gotta teach yourself your new limits. it’ll come with time. sometimes i fuck up still, but. not nearly as much as before.  ❞

[alivses]

「 BLAYZE. 」

Blayze looks over at the woman with a smile, one of innocence as he could feel. He was the more soft one, always looking for trouble, but never knowing how to handle it when something goes wrong. “Just some old clothes of mine. They remind me of a day I’d rather forget you know?” There was some blood stains on the flannel shirt in his hands — it was his own and he tosses it into the garbage can after a few minutes along with a few other pieces.

❝  sure, kiddo, i can get behind that  ❞  though her trained eyes miss not the blotches of crimson which adorn the flannel. shes memorizing the splatter work, piecing together the sort of weapon used, if any. discerning the degree of force exhausted. then a moment later — the clothing erupts into flames. jessica’s calculating expression does not change, though she does reach for a bloodied shirt of her own and tears it down the middle, adding kindle to the garbage fire. she hesitates a moment, fists finding jacket pockets, then inclines her head towards the male.  ❝  — consider them forgotten. you feel better, kid?  ❞

[alivses]

「 THOR. 」

“Next time I’ll hit you like I mean it.” @alivses

“ and you still won’t leave a mark. “ the smirk across his face gives away how amused he is with this entire situation. the tone in his voice conveys it as well— but the twinkle in his eye? well that. that tells how he’s merely joking— mostly. how he’s teasing the other. “ face it, jessica. even with all your considerable strength— i’m just too good. “

❝  and you’ll still be a douche,  ❞  drawls she with a crack of her knuckles. scarlett crevices in her knuckles betray the bravado in her levelled gaze — as does the breath hissed from clenched teeth. she wants to hit him again, naturally. the chance to punch a god isn’t one often granted. but — shots. she needs shots first. booze. liquid fire in her veins to stifle the uproar of pain splintering her fist.  ❝  ──   too good. right. bet that’s what you tell the ladies before you take ‘em to bed too, huh? then what do they say?  ‘not good enough?’  ❞  sure, she’s an asshole. sue her.  ❝  you’ll need to get at least another five drinks in me before you can convince you’re too good. up for the challenge, god of thunder? ❞

[alivses]

「 STEPH. 」 

“ i’m not good for you , trust me. “ // @alivses

how did they end up here? it was a little hard to tell, really. it happened some spontaneously, so suddenly, steph had barely a chance to cover her features with the batgirl’s cowl before she was quite literally jumping into a car with this brusque woman. darkness crept in from all sides, the streetlights feeble in reaching down the dank alley. she took a moment to scope outside the car to assure the cover hadn’t been blown before turning in her seat.

“don’t you think that’s something for someone else besides YOURSELF to decide?” the masked blonde countered, finishing with a tight smile meant to be more friendly than it appeared. it probably wasn’t the wisest decision stephanie’s made, partnering momentarily with a stranger, but it seemed they both shared a common interest –– tailing a couple low-level mafia members in hopes of finding even just a small hub for their activity. “are you with the police? i didn’t think my standing with the force had gotten that sour.”

❝  ───   the police?  ❞

a snort, callous and sharp, resonates in the abandoned vehicle, rickety metal GROANING under the weight of both women as they adjust themselves inside. jessica is careful to poise herself on the vehicle’s floor, lest her height reveal her cover to the tail in question. not to mention, it took her enhanced strength to pry the handle off the car’s door, pop the lock open and shuffle inside. if their cover wasn’t blown before, no doubt the hero mask donned on the stranger’s face may beg some questions. still — she recognizes the shape of it immediately, the outline of any bat-affiliated individual. partnering with one of bruce’s prodigies, she decides, isn’t the worst idea she could surmise, and so she focuses two narrowed, hazel eyes on the blonde. purses her lips.

❝  ───   no, the police fucking hate me. possibly even more than they hate your mentor, batman. am i getting close? it’s cool, kid. he’s a friend. you might recognize the name : jessica jones?  ❞

her shoulders roll back as silhouettes begin to fade, jessica now clambering out of the vehicle and motioning for this elusive stranger to do the same.   ❝  ─── look. we can swap interrogations later, whatever the fuck will make you feel better. but our tail’s gonna get away if we just sit here bickering. so. i’m gonna go tail the fuckers, and you’ve got three seconds to decide if you’re gonna get in my way.  ❞

[alivses]

「 SEND ME A ᕤ…. ⋮  @withmxght​. 」⋮

「   57 ⋮  →  ❝  i’m not crying. ❞   」

[alivses]

「 SEND ME A ᕤ.... ⋮  @hauntedcrusader​. 」⋮

「   108 ⋮  →  ❝  who the hell uses a flamethrower to cook?! ❞   」

[multifxceted]

send me a ᕤ...

[alivses]

multifxceted:

And I’ll generate a number and use the following starters below the cut!

(1-146) mix of angst, nsfw-ish, crack, randome, fluff, all the good stuff. All depends on how you interpret it!)

BONUS POINTS for reblogging without looking.

Keep reading

[ jessica jones. ] | [ ava starr. ] | [ natasha romanoff. ] | [ catalina walker. ]

[alivses]

「 HILL. 」

no. of course she says no. jones doesn’t know what’s at stake here or even care about stakes does she? if she said the safety of the world was at hand here— she’d laugh and tell her to shove it. she doesn’t trust maria. or shield. which is exactly why maria’s come to her in the first place. “ i wasn’t asking. “ she’s scoffing it out— voice thick with a bitter, dark feeling to it. her eyes convey the same thing— and the severity of the situation. “ i’ve come to you, jones, because i don’t trust my agents. i trust very few people. some could say i don’t trust anyone. but. you? you don’t trust shield. and i know that for a fact. you don’t trust any government creep that crawls your way. you’re perfect for this. “ she’s holding the briefcase up now— swinging it back and forth. “ information on every mutant and mutate in the five boroughs. that’s a huge population. this is a statistic with very private information no one should have their hands on. help. me. burn. it. “

❝  there’s absolutely no fucking reason why burning one briefcase requires more than one person, hill.  you can i both know you could’ve burnt this by yourself, saved your time coming down here, and this obviously unpleasant fucking conversation. so whats the catch?  ❞  because there’s always a catch, isn’t there?  ❝  you risked having this ‘real fucking sensitive information’ exposed just by bringing it over here. it’s not that sensitive. or you would’ve taken care of it yourself. or asked your little fuck friend to take care of it for you,  ❞   that’s a reference to natasha romanoff, obviously.  ❝  — so you needed an excuse — a bullshit one at that — to haul ass to my office. why? what’s really in the briefcase, hill? something you wanna get my prints on so you can frame me for shit later?  ❞  that’s a likely contender.  ❝  — or. let’s see. is it a bomb? this a fucking kill order?  ❞  regardless of the briefcase’s contents, jessica jones is certain of two things : 1) maria hill is a dirty liar because that sort of sensitive material does not currently exist in her hand and is not currently being offered to jessica, and 2) maria hill is a terrible, dirty liar at that, trying to con jessica either into death or into some other thing she really doesn’t want to do.  ❝  — why don’t you just tell me what the fuck’s really going on. practice honesty for a fucking change  ──   if youre even capable of that shit.  ❞  

[alivses]

「 MELODIE. 」

      melodie ; at a shocking height of barely reaching 5′ does not manage to strike fear in anybody’s heart.    shockingly ; she knows how to defend herself, the small frame holding a slightly unbelievable level of strength.      Still she says nothing as jessica moved in front of her,   only moving onto her tippy toes to allow her head to peak up from above jessica’s shoulder. Her tongue poking out slightly from between parted lips.      Perhaps it was because jessica was there that melodie acted with the confidence to speak so bluntly.    And with words that were usually so unlike her,      but she picked up quick from being around Jessica so often.                                     “ yeah, yeah ! not so tough are you now ! huh !!! “   typical new york,   always having to fight off the attacker of the week.  Forget superhero fights, or s.h.i.e.l.d or whatever,  even just a asshole trying to steal a purse, misogynistic comments just added bonus. “ so you better just … go or   else !!”   biting vocabulary now almost immediately forgotten.      

                                   their assailant, needless to say, does not look terrified. why would he, when the duo are truly a sight to behold? melodie, in her petite stature, tongue prodding from her lips, and jessica, tall but lanky, looking like she’s never lifted a weight in her entire life ─── she hasn’t. but luckily, she doesn’t need to.   ❝   asshole,  ❞   comes her brilliant quip instead, as the investigator’s hand coils into a tight fist, no accuracy to the stature, but jessica cares little for martial arts or perfectly-placed thumbs  (  she should, though. she really should  )   ——— too little too late, because her knuckles are now connecting with cartilage, a resounding CRACK echoing from the shatter of the man’s nose. SCARLETT peppers to the surface of her battered flesh, a small price to pay for putting a misogynistic shithead in his place — and jessica pays little heed to the pain in her fist as it swelters and pulsates. instead, her hand finds the pocket of her leather jacket as the makes a point to veer back out towards the bustling street.   ❝  you okay, kiddo?  ❞   she arches a brow in query, perhaps the subtlest semblance of concern stitching into her brows, worrying into crevices by her mouth.  ❝   people suck, huh? i can’t remember what the fuck we were even doing before all this.  ❞ 

[alivses]

「 LYSANDER. 」 

jessica jones had come into lysander’s life at quite a key moment. 

truly, if he were honest, she probably saved his life. well, actually, considering the space she rented out to him and the times she came to visit with dinners and sweets and much more friendship than he thought he deserved, there was no probably about it. however, lysander was… quite an anxious thing, shocking a grand total of nobody, and although he wanted to thank her, he was too nervous to vocalise just how much she had done for him – and, he wasn’t sure she’d appreciate the emotional rambling, either.

so he settled for bi-weekly gifts, instead. with an armful of native australian plants ( they were not delicate, not daintily pretty, and lysander figured they’d suit her more ), the florist knocked on her door. every week or so he’d come around for lunch, and this week was no exception.  // @alivses

jessica jones needs to eat. it’s a thought that’s crossed her mind, if only once or twice, since this case began. instead, jessica has once again thrown herself wholeheartedly into her work — determined to find a missing child who’d disappeared some nights prior. and until the child has been located? returned safely to a loving home? jessica has a lapse in priorities — self-care teetering dangerously close to the bottom of that list. she needs a shower. she needs to drink an entire bottle of water. she needs food. sunlight. sustenance. social interaction — she offers herself none of that. at least, none until a knock resonates at her door, pulling, temporarily, her attention from the dimly lit screen of her computer — had she been squinting? most likely. she is, after all, sitting in the pitch black, nursing a glass of whiskey, completely oblivious to the time of day — or night — let alone how much time had passed since she last stood up at all.   ❝ i’m busy,  ❞  she drags out, agitation laces her tone until she glances at bottom corner of her screen, finally taking notice to the date ─── fuck.

 ❝  lysander?  ❞ a moment later she’s standing, tugging her door open and gesturing for the boy to come inside — one brow cocks at the sight of the flowers  (  she’s lost count of the times she’s repeatedly insisted he need not come bearing gifts. that jessica doesnt need them. that he must take care of himself  )  — but beckons him to her office nonetheless.  ❝  ───  shit. i lost track of time. hang on. i’ll call us takeout now —  ❞  perhaps she’s almost rambling as she bustles around the office, trying desperately to track a phone she knows she cannot call, for the battery is drained. she finds it under an empty back of chips, tosses the wrappers on the floor, plugs her phone in, and waits.  ❝  ──  what’re we having today, kiddo? you in the mood for anything specific, huh, kid? how’s your week been?  ❞

[alivses]

「 FUCK SENTENCE STARTERS. ⋮   @seizcd. 」⋮

「   ❝  →  fuck. FUCK. FUUUUCK!  ❞  」⋮

── well. jessica can’t say she doesn’t relate. sometimes a person’s just gotta curse at the top of their fucking lungs. get it all out. she gets it. but — that doesn’t mean she knows how to appropriately react — social settings are not her forte — so in lieu of standing about in an awkward silence, she drags herself to her kitchen, tosses a cabinet open, and reaches for a bottle of whiskey, then proceeds to pour herself a glass. she palms it for a moment, gazing into the amber abyss, tilts her head back, and chugs a long swig. something to do — something to hold — something to feel — it’s all about DISTRACTIONS with jessica, isn’t it?  ❝  you want a drink?  ❞ speaking of distractions. should she offer to talk it through with him? perhaps. but will she? ─── probably not. ❝  or. uh. sometimes i’ll go and punch the hell out of some cars, trees, assholes in the street. that kinda shit. you wanna try?   ❞

[alivses]

「 FUCK SENTENCE STARTERS. ⋮   @ofiiceandfire. 」⋮

「   ❝  →  it’s not a party until someone almost fucking dies.  ❞  」⋮

❝  ───  jesus fuck ───  ❞  at least it’s over now. whatever fucking party they had found themselves at for this investigation — drugs were being passed around like candy — and yet the teenage-runaway-in-question was nowhere to be found. talk to the friends, jessica had advised. and so a minor interrogation of an adolescent woman had begun — only for her to dissolve into a fit of convulsions, eyes lolling back, then — UNCONSCIOUS. — the rest was a blur. performing CPR, however, is a struggle when one pump of her hands could potentially shatter the woman’s sternum. and with the adrenaline — she hadn’t trusted it.  so she opted to leave kamile —  or anyone else more competent than jessica, herself — in charge as she’d phoned an ambulance. and then? in the wake of all the excitement? the police were on the way to begin arrests for underage drinking, drug trafficking, drug possession — you name it. 

❝  — let’s get the fuck out of here,  ❞  she had offered in response, guiding them to the nearby subway station to await the next train — upon which they now find themselves. her groan is loud, trident, DISRUPTIVE as jessica’s head reclines onto a subway car window, then lolls sideways to fix a glance onto kamile.  ❝  the kid better fucking live,  ❞ drawls the investigator, who’s now deciding she really, desperately needs a drink.  ❝  — guess the party was a bust, though. should’ve expected as much. teenagers are always fucking around in dangerous shit like that. no care for their lives.  ❞ is she one to talk? whatever.  ❝  ───  good job tonight, though. you wanna come back to alias and we can lay out the case facts? see if we’re missing something?  ❞

[alivses]

「 FUCK SENTENCE STARTERS. ⋮   @agvnt. 」⋮

「   ❝  →  help me set this fucking thing on fire.  ❞  」⋮

❝  — uh. no?  ❞   knuckles pop with a resonating CRACK. then another. another. jessica settles at her desk, lounging in the seat of her office, legs propped up onto the hardwood tabletop, one crossed atop the other. she shifts her gaze around the room, then pointedly rakes it up maria’s own frame. inspecting. learning. she does nothing to mask her SUSPICION, broken glass of a sharp gaze marring her otherwise neutral expression. pursed lips part into a little scowl — inwardly she’s hoping, praying to a god in which she doesn’t believe, that maria hill won’t break down and cry in this office  (  again  ) .   ❝  you’re probably getting rid of some shield evidence or whatever shield agent bullshit. i want no part in your shady ass organization. set shit on fire by yourself, you seem competent enough — well. sometimes. but you don’t need my help. or get one of your brown nosing agents to do it, they’ve got their heads shoved so far up your ass anyways.  ❞

[alivses]

「 FUCK SENTENCE STARTERS. ⋮  @ofmarvjane  」⋮

「   ❝  →  it’s not MY fault we’re in fucking handcuffs.  ❞  」⋮

❝  ───  oh, really? cuz i do remember someone insisting they tag along to witness jessica jones being a hero. and i do remember repeatedly saying no. i already told you, mary jane. there’s nothing heroic about me. and the cops? they fucking hate me.  ❞

which explains the handcuffs. and the fact that jessica’s cheek is pressed up against the door of a police vehicle, heavily rolling her eyes at their deplorable attempts to keep her detained. as though a meagre scrap of metal could contain a woman with super strength. dark is the glare that settles into her eyes, jessica pointedly kicking the shin of a guard who comes — a little too close for her liking.  ❝  ───  personal space, asshole!  ❞ the insult is snarled in warning, almost feral, before the woman shifts her gaze to mary jane.  ❝  you sure seem to run your mouth a lot. any chance you can use that to get us out of here? i’m no lawyer, but when some douche tells you he wants to take you for a spin in the back alleyway, that douche deserves to be punched in the face. fucking cops have got their heads shoved way too far up their own asses to realize that shit.  ❞  and, well. if she snaps the cuffs now? she’s resisting arrest. normally — jessica would have no qualms, but to drag mary jane down with her, as an accomplice? ( this is why she’s better off alone. push everyone away. and she’s trying, oh, she’s trying, but some people — trish, mary jane, to name a couple — just won’t let her go ).

[alivses]

「 FUCK SENTENCE STARTERS. ⋮   @blayzcit. 」⋮

「   ❝  →  help me set this fucking thing on fire.  ❞  」⋮

❝  — now we’re talking.  ❞  calloused hands, worn from punches thrown and glass shattered and skin scrubbed raw, thrust into the pockets of her leather jacket as jessica strides forward. her eyes, always calculating, always learning, flicker in a blatant display of examining the constantine, capturing details and committing them to memory   ──    just in case.  ❝   ───  so you wanna tell me what the fuck we’re about to set on fire, first? and if i’m liable to go to prison because of it?   ❞

[alivses]

「 FUCK SENTENCE STARTERS. ⋮   @hcllacious. 」⋮

「   ❝  →  why the fuck do you have gasoline?  ❞  」⋮

❝  ──  maybe so i can set  you  on fire, trish.  ❞

perhaps her sardonicism is ill-fitted today, tongue laced not with syrup but with venom, acrid on her tongue. narrowed eyes scream VILE, scream HATRED, scream of a lack of forgiveness for the woman who’d crossed the line. would there ever be a coming back from it?   (  only time will tell. unfortunately, jessica jones is not the forgiving type  ) .  yet this little exchange, patricia’s attempt at reconciliation, followed by jessica’s blatant acceptance thereof, falls short as the private investigator ponders the true explication behind her need for an entire container of gasoline. but more than that — if jessica is willing to divulge the reason.

❝  ─── i’m being stalked, ❞ offers she, blunt and succinct. hazel eyes never drift from the cardboard box at her feet, swelling with files and photographs, now drenched in petrol. the flame of a lighter gnaws at the darkness around them, dancing in anticipation of the upcoming feast. a hungry fire, leaving chaos, destruction, RUIN in its wake. jessica, perhaps, can relate.

❝ ──────   it’s just some dumb case i’m working. i think the guy’s caught on. so i digitized all the shit i’ve been working on and now i’m gonna go outside and set it all on fire. ❞

[alivses]

「 FUCK SENTENCE STARTERS. ⋮   @bbmelodie. 」⋮

「   ❝  →  you wanna fucking go, punk?  ❞  」⋮

               there’s a moment where jessica jones looks almost completely, utterly frazzled. not from the mugger, no. nor from the gun in his pocket. nor still from the vulgar, blatantly MISOGYNISTIC language he ( foolishly ) decided to jeer in their direction ─── no. instead, her furrowed brows and slightly agape mouth are inclined towards melodie, in response to arguably the most uncharacteristic phrase to ever leave the baker’s lips. but jessica’s recovery is quick, albeit a little stunted as the investigator shuffles one step forward. a second. a third. until she’s poised protectively in front of melodie, one brow cocked as she shoves clenched fists into her leather jacket pockets and meets the eyes of their attacker.

❝  ─── you heard the girl, shithead. if you wanna fucking go, you’ll be dealing with me.  ❞