Last Seen Blogs
areyouafraidofdating
Are You Afraid Of Dating?!
thelonelysilent
Unbetitelt
saritaguptasblog
savesoil
post-leffert
Shadowbanned post-leftism
pallzy
Untitled
Text
Danielle's first birthday
Somehow, it has been 365 days since Jessica’s baby girl was born. She still has no idea how that is possible. The days were long, but the year had been short, and the weeks seemed like nothing at all.
Miraculously, the first year of Danielle’s life had passed more smoothly than Jessica had thought possible, given that her life was involved too. There had been no cases for Jessica that had gotten her overly emotionally involved or in danger more than the usual level she was nonchalant about and accustomed to, and Kilgrave, thankfully, had remained on the Raft. Dorothy’s estate had been sold, the money donated to the charities Trish and Jessica decided should be benefited, and she had managed, for the first time in her life, to have almost a year where she had settled into something resembling a routine, with a nearly normal family. Jessica still held her breath to admit it sometimes, worried she would jinx it, but she was happy. Happier than she could ever remember experiencing before.
Trish and Danny, still acting like newlyweds despite the fact that they had passed their first anniversary of marriage, seemed just as happy with their lives together as Jessica was with Luke and Danielle. Trish was still practicing her “monk ninja crap,” as Jessica called it, and apparently continuing to make progress. Her show was still very popular and had expanded on its topics, with Trish now a producer and having more say over the guests. Jessica never said it, obviously, but she was proud of her.
And she was damn proud of Danielle. Danielle was to Jessica obviously the most beautiful, smart, amazing baby ever born. Jessica had never even thought about the possibility of becoming a parent very seriously before, but now that Danielle was hers, she couldn’t imagine how she had gone her first 31 years of life without her.
At one year old, Danielle was now her own tiny person, with her unique personality and preferences that she was not shy about making clear to anyone who might try to persuade her otherwise. She had inherited Jessica’s strong will and stubborn mindset, and definitely her grouchiness at times. But she was also very loving and sweet, ready to hug and offer comfort to anyone she thought needed it. And she might still be a baby, but Jessica was already certain she would change the world somehow. She could just feel it.
She did worry sometimes about Danielle’s inherited super hero genes. She was clearly stronger than a normal baby- she had once broke a crib when having a tantrum, and Jessica had lost a chunk of hair when she pulled it as a very young infant. Danielle had also learned to walk at the ridiculously young age of eight months and was already in a toddler bed, since she could simply climb out of a normal crib already anyway. Jessica didn’t know how quickly she would continue to develop abilities or whether they would naturally strengthen with time, but it wasn’t like they could do anything about it. Danielle was who she was, and she wouldn’t change her.
And now Danielle was one years old. Her days of being a baby wouldn’t last much longer, and Jessica was kind of sad about that, even if she wouldn’t be sad about the diaper days being over sooner rather than later. Today would be her birthday party, with her favorite (stupid, in Jessica’s opinion) show Blue’s Clues as the party theme. At least it wasn’t something overly girly like unicorns or ballerinas. Or something purple.
Going into Danielle’s nursery to wake her, Jessica lifted her up, giving her a nuzzle and cuddle as she adjusted her onto her hip. Danielle gave her a sleep scowl, wrapping her chubby legs around Jessica’s waist and hiding her face against her shoulder.
“No, mama. Bye bye.”
“Yes, Danielle, wake up,” she laughed, ruffling the top of her curly hair. “It’s your birthday! Which means I bet your dad’s going to give you something ridiculous for breakfast, like ice cream or something.”
This perked Danielle up just enough to shift her head to side eye Jessica.
“I-cwee?”
“I don’t know, let’s go ask him,” Jessica smirked, giving Danielle a kiss and carrying her into the kitchen. “Come on, baby, it’s your special day. My big girl just turned one year old. Can you show me one finger?”
“No,” Danielle told her. That was one of her favorite words, and Jessica had a feeling it would be for a long time.
“I figured,” she sighed. “Could be worse, I probably should have specified which finger was okay to show.”
Carrying her into the kitchen, she called out to Luke. “Hey babe, birthday girl is up!”
155 notes
·
View notes
Text
Danielle has been having quite the difficult day. Jessica isn't sure if she's sick or just cranky, but she's been restless, crying, and having things come out both ends since waking without wanting to nap. Jessica had checked her temperature so fever was ruled out, and she seemed to be eating and drinking fine. Jessica had about reached the conclusion that she was antisocial today, even from her parents.
And damn it, she swears Danielle spit up on her favorite jacket on purpose.
She had rolled her eyes when Luke got the door, torn between not wanting to deal with the baby crying and not wanting to deal with being civil to a human being probably going off about religious conversion or something. When Luke came back to Danielle's room, saying something about a man representing her mother, Jessica stared at him blankly for a minute.
"She has someone representing her after being dead for sixteen years?"
Then the penny dropped. "Oh, you mean Dorothy. She was not my mother, but whatever, I guess legally the term fits."
Unenthused to meet anyone working for Dorothy but glad to hand over Danielle, Jessica went to the front door and looked the man up and down. "She give you a list of insults to deliver from beyond the grave?"
Final Wishes.
Elliott Green Esq. Stood at the entrance of the apartment building looking down at the address his secretary had written in her terrible handwriting. Twisting and flipping the paper around as he tried to decipher her cryptic scribbles. Never hire another twenty year old, they're so used to texting everything they don't know how to do basic things like using a pen. He says under his breath, he opens the door and walks in thinking that he's figured out the chicken scratch as best he could.
Stepping onto the elevator and pressing the right button he stood silently as the elevator moved up a few floors then stops. Stepping out and walking the long well lit and rather fancy hallway thinking to himself. This is Harlem? It's nothing like what the media says it is. Even the neighborhood around the building was more like the kind of neighborhood he lives in and he lives in Lower Manhattan.
Stopping at the door he checks the apartment number against the paper in his hand then knocks. Taking the time to adjust his dark blue silk tie when the door opens. Elliot finds his eyes have to travel up quite a bit since his 5.5" frame barely meets the massive man's chest.
Can I help you? The man says with a bit of impatience in his voice, his mustard yellow tee shirt which seems to be painted on his huge frame was covered with a thick substance that he was trying to wipe off with a wet towel, a wailing baby in the background comes pouring out into the hallway.
Ummm well. The words fumbled out of his mouth as he tried to recover from the shock of the size of the man in the door, he wasn't just big and tall he was almost pure muscle. Elliott isn't usually into the muscle heads but the man didn't look like the horse steroids body builder type, he was ripped but he looked natural. Elliott had to compose himself for a second then holding out his business card to the man.
Yes, my name is Elliott Green, my firm represents..represented Dorothy Walker. I'm looking for Ms. Jessica Jones.
The man looked Elliott over before opening the door wide enough to allow him in. Wait in the living room, just have a seat and I'll get her. And its Mrs. now. The man held out his huge hand to shake. I'm Luke Cage her husband and she's in a bit of a crisis dealing with our daughter who just spit up on me and her favorite leather jacket.
Her husband, that's disappointing Elliott thinks to himself as Luke dissapeared down a hallway and into a room.
Luke steps in the room next to Jessica and looks down at Danielle who was just starting to stop crying. Hey there is a lawyer in the living room who says he represented your mother. Let me take over here I'll clean her up and change shirts then join you.
75 notes
·
View notes
Text
Jessica had expected her water breaking to be like in the movies- a huge gush of fluid, probably while she was out in public for maximum embarrassment. But in reality, she didn’t actually know what was happening for almost an hour after it had started. She had assumed the slight leaking in her underwear to be some weird pregnancy thing and put in a panty liner; it didn’t seem worth mentioning to Luke or Claire, since she didn’t feel any pain or see any blood. She went about her day and even got in bed for the night, ignoring it.
But Jessica couldn’t sleep, and although she shifted her position frequently, it didn’t seem to help. She started noticing pain in her lower back and stomach, starting to intensify and spread towards her pelvis, and when she got up to pee a few times and realized the leaking was getting heavier, it started to dawn on her what could be happening.
“Oh shit,” she said out loud, gripped with a rush of excitement tempered with fear. “Now?”
It wasn’t like it should have been unexpected. It was a week before her due date, and she was feeling enormous, uncomfortable, and as ready as she would ever be to get the baby out of herself. She had been waddling more than walking for what felt like far too long, but now that Danielle was about to make her first appearance, it suddenly felt like it was all too soon.
Trying to take a breath as another cramp spasmed through her, Jessica made her way back to the bedroom, pulling on some loose pants as she stood over Luke.
“Luke? I think it’s showtime. Do we seriously have to go to the hospital, or can Claire just come here?”
362 notes
·
View notes
Text
I swear this kid already has more toys than I did my whole childhood
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Jessica was more than ready to get the damn baby out of her.
She was 37 weeks along now, and she was certain that Danielle had inherited Luke's genes when it came to size, because she felt enormous. It didn't help that she was due in the middle of the damn summer either; she was not just huge, she was uncomfortably hot, constantly. Add that to having trouble sleeping, peeing every ten minutes, and no longer being able to fight or even jump roofs without risk to herself and the baby, and Jessica's normal moodiness had become closer to rage.
One thing was for sure, Danielle was the last baby she was having, one and done. If Luke wanted another kid he could figure out how to have a male pregnancy, because Jessica was over it.
The nursery and all the other things they needed for the baby were long bought and set up. Trish and Danny had, as could be expected, gone far and beyond what a normal couple might buy their niece, coming back from their honeymoon three months ago with more for the yet to be born baby than themselves. Jessica had managed to avoid any purple, wanting no reminders of Kilgrave and his treasured color, but to her dismay, it turned out to be impossible to totally avoid any pink for a baby girl. Especially when her own sister kept sneaking it in.
Jessica's job didn't actually come with maternity leave; well, Danny had said something about it, but she had ignored him, because she saw no reason she couldn't work right up until delivery, and then figure out how to keep working within a few weeks of Danielle arriving. Or so she thought back when she was small enough to see her feet still. And now she was too stubborn to go back on that declaration.
As Luke went out for his morning run, Jessica lay in bed, working up the will to get up and at least half assedly do some research on a case. With Malcolm now the actual legs of the operation when it came to the spying now, she found staring at a computer without much else break in routine just one more maddening aspect of things currently.
When the doorbell to their apartment rang, Jessica frowned, confused. Had Luke forgot his keys? She would have figured he would call instead of act like a stranger on his own doorstep, but maybe he figured she would have hit ignore and went back to sleep. She couldn't deny it might have been a possibility.
Dressed only in one of Luke's oversized t-shirts, which was big enough to accommodate her stomach but still big enough on her to cover her to her mid thigh, Jessica heaved herself up and made her way with muttering to the apartment door. Seeing an older man with a not so pleasant expression standing there, she blinked, startled. Oops, not Luke then.
A little self conscious at her attire, Jessica flushed and tugged at the shirt's hem, even as she spoke bluntly.
"I don't do religion and I don't want anything you're selling, other than that, wrong apartment. And if it isn't, Luke's out and he needs to tell people it's too damn early to come by our place."
She started to close the door, stepping back to do so somewhat.awkwardly.
Fathers and Sons
With the emergence of Luke as Harlem's Hero, James Lucas moved to New York in order to arrange a reunion with his son. He reached out to his son but was rebuffed. Luke had no intention on reuniting with the abusive religious zealot of a man that not only refused to support his son who was wrongfully convicted and sent to prison. He didn't even take the time to tell his son his mother passed away while he was in prison.
But that's who James Lucas was, cold and hard. A piece of granite was more emotionally accessible and supportive than James.
There was also his fanatical attitude about races, James was velmetly against mixing of races. Luke can recall bringing home his girl friend who was mixed, her mother being Puerto Rican and her father Haitian. To James this was an offense to God, despite never being able to show Luke one passage or verse that proved his point. But that didn't stop him from threatening to kick a 14 year out for dating her.
In his apartment he moved into so he could have a place to lay his head while he looked for Luke. James walked around his living practicing what he'll say to Luke when he sees him.. It's the same thing he does every Sunday before he gives one of his sermons. Practice till it's as easy as saying your name.
James taking a break to sit at a desk, the open laptop's bright screen hurting his old eyes making him pull his glasses out, it's not much relief but enough to allow his eyes to focus one what's on the screen. Multiple pages and pictures on his son. There is a sense of peace and pride when he looks at pictures with only Luke in them. Old articles of how Luke saved Harlem. But that feeling quickly falls to the side as his eyes scan over pictures of Luke with Danny and Trish, laughing and smiling at dinner either at their apartment or Danny and Trish's Penthouse. Its obvious James hired a PI to spy on his son, the pictures probably taken with the same kind of camera Jessica uses to take long distance but clear pictures of people she's investigating.
James continued to click pictures and videos of the investigator gave him and then he had his most disgusted and angry reaction when he watched the video of Jessica and Trish outside Rand Enterprises, the night they went jumping around rooftops and got confronted by reporters, most of the frenzy of questions flew right pass him, they meant nothing to him. Until a reporter as Jessica. "Are you pregnant?"
Did his son not only shack up then marry this white woman but now got her pregnant? This in his mind is abomination in his eyes and he will straighten his son out and put him back on the righteous path.
After doing his research he figured out where to be to make sure he and Luke run into each other but first he wants to speak with this woman that is misleading his son.
Waiting outside the building for Luke to go on his morning run. Before making his way up to the apartment and waits after ringing the doorbell.
161 notes
·
View notes
Text
Trish and Danny’s wedding
The big day had finally come.
Trish and Danny hadn’t taken as little time as Jessica and Luke had in planning their wedding- it had seemed to Trish that the other couple had been engaged one day and married the next. Nevertheless, the day dawned far more quickly than she had anticipated, and yet not a moment too soon.
Trish had always expected to marry one day, and she had always assumed that her husband would be someone famous and rich- not because she was too snobby to marry someone “normal,” but because she so seldom could be sure that a “normal” person liked her in spite of rather than because of her fame. But famous and rich or not, Danny Rand was special in the ways that mattered to her, beyond any money or notoriety could bring out. Danny was kind and generous, focused far more on the good of the world and humanity rather than his own interests or desires. Danny was playful and fun, endlessly interesting and experienced in a way Trish had never encountered in someone before, and it didn’t hurt that he was good looking enough to make her heart pound with certain touches or looks. Danny was honest and real, talented and focused, and he knew Trish and loved her for being herself, Trish, rather than Patricia Walker, the Celebrity.
Trish had thought she loved men before, but she had not known what it was to really love someone or to be loved by someone romantically until Danny. She didn’t care how traditional or sappy that might be; she was beyond excited to become Trish Rand.
Officially, anyway. The stupid thing about being a celebrity was she was going to be known by her maiden name for the rest of her life, no matter what her legal name actually was. But it was the official part that mattered to her.
As she gathered with Danny, Jessica, and Luke to enter K’un Lun, a few hours before the actual wedding ceremony was to begin, Trish squeezed Danny’s hand, feeling inwardly fidgety with excitement rather than nerves. Of course, Jessica had to interrupt the moment of her solemnity.
“We don’t have to sing, do we? I can go for mystical, but I’m gonna have to opt out on religious songs. Way too culty.”
#jessica jones roleplay#Luke Cage#Jessica Jones#luke cage roleplay#trish walker#trish walker roleplay#danny rand
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
JESSICA JONES | 1.02 aka crush syndrome
my greatest weakness? occasionally, I give a damn.
113 notes
·
View notes
Text
Having any kind of intended celebration while being pregnant really sucked.
This was the conclusion that Jessica had come to definitively, although she had pretty much already held this hypothesis before going out with Trish to celebrate her upcoming wedding. She already wasn’t someone who enjoyed eating out in public, being at parties or public events of any kind, and even her own birthdays she viewed as an ordeal to be lived through as quickly as possibly rather than acknowledged.
Trish knew this and had accordingly kept the “bachelorette” event extraordinarily low key, but Jessica felt guilty over it. Could eating take out at the Penthouse and watching trashy TV really be the way Trish would choose to spend her night, if it wasn’t in deference to Jessica?
Trish had insisted that she didn’t want anything else, that like Jessica and Luke had decided, being married was the goal and the status to be enjoyed, not the parties before or during the one day of making it official. But still, Jessica had been to enough events of Trish’s in their lives to know that low-key celebrations were not the norm for her sister. And for Jessica, any kind of celebration, or even night of hanging out, without the option of drinking was alien.
And honestly? It was kind of boring.
She found herself fidgeting, antsy with the feeling of wanting to go out and do something physical, something to bring forth the adrenaline rush that she had come to nearly crave when she put herself in a situation of possible risk or danger. It wasn’t being in danger itself that was attractive to her. It was the choice of it, the decision to put herself forward to protect someone who couldn’t protect themselves, using her strength to knock criminals and abusers down a few pegs and possibly save someone else the trauma she herself had gone through. She knew she had agreed to take on less strenuous and risky jobs in Alias Investigations for the rest of her pregnancy, for the sake of her baby’s health, but what she hadn’t anticipated was how quickly she would get restless with that.
She caught Trish looking at her and reddened, jerking her chin up defensively. “What? I was listening.”
“Interesting, because I stopped speaking three minutes ago,” Trish chuckled, shaking her head. “You developed mind reading skills lately that I didn’t hear about?”
“Whatever, you talk so much my ears were probably still ringing from the last 3000 words you said,” Jessica shot back, crossing her arms.
Her leg jiggled unconsciously as she spoke, and when she became aware of it, she deliberately put her hand over her knee, trying to still it. Trish smirked, watching, and shook her head again.
“Jess. You’re not as slick as you think you are. Let me make a few guesses what’s going on here. You’re either A. bored, B. wanting to go out and spy on perverts and jump up roof tops and kick some asses, or C. really wanting to drink, or D., all of the above. You can say it, it isn’t going to offend me.”
“Okay, okay, fine,” Jessica growled, putting both hands over both knees and forcing her feet to stay flat on the ground, even as they attempted to buck against her restraining hands. “You sure you’re not the one with mind reading abilities here?”
“No, I just know you,” Trish reminded her. She turned to face her, taking on a more serious and compassionate expression. “It’s okay, you know. I know it’s been hard for you to be sober, and you’ve been going through a lot lately. All of us have. I’m really proud of you, Jess. I know it can’t be easy.”
Jessica’s ears reddened, and she shook off the compliment with a twitch of her shoulders. Other people expressing pride in her was not something she was comfortable accepting.
“I’m pregnant, it’s not like I have a choice. I wouldn’t do that to the kid.”
“Yeah, but you could have chosen to anyway,” Trish pointed out. “You did have a choice. You chose to do what was best for Danielle. You choose that every single day. Don’t discount that. It’s huge, and it’s something to be proud of.”
She put her hand over Jessica’s, giving a quick squeeze, and then dropped her hand back on her own leg before Jessica could pull away. Sensing Jessica’s discomfort and anticipating an irritated remark that might follow, she smiled, changing the subject with a chuckle.
“You remember when we used to sneak out as kids, and I’d beg you to take me to “fly”?”
Jessica snorted, her lips curving into a small smile in spite of herself.
“You know that was never flying. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that. It’s jumping. And falling with some level of control.”
“Well, it felt like flying to me, or as close to it as I’ll ever get,” Trish shrugged, smiling back. She nodded at Jessica’s stomach, just starting to show a small swell that Jessica could still hide under loose shirts and baggier jeans. “That niece of mine is going to absolutely love doing that with you one day. If you can manage to get her not to tell Luke about it.”
Jessica smirked, imagining this. She could just picture herself jumping building to building with a toddler on her shoulders or in her arms, squealing with laughter. She could also picture Luke having a stroke if the kid spilled the beans about it.
The more she envisioned this, the more Jessica’s chest tightened with a wistful, irritable difficulty with remaining inside and inactive. She felt caged in, somehow, and increasingly rebellious.
On impulse, she stood, extending a hand to Trish to help pull her to her feet as well. When Trish scrunched her nose at her, confused, Jessica raised an eyebrow.
“Want to go do the teenage nostalgia thing?”
When Trish just looked at her, thrown, Jessica rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, I know, I don’t do nostalgia. But I do feel like jumping some buildings. Wanna go?”
“What?” Trish laughed, not seeming to take her seriously. “Right, I’m going to get on your back like a possum baby again and let you put me at risk of death?”
“Right,” Jessica nodded, no shift in expression whatsoever to indicate joking, since she wasn’t. “Pretty much. Want to?”
Trish blinked, then laughed again, more incredulously this time. “Jess, we’re not fifteen anymore. I’m taller and heavier now, and a little more capable of thinking of possible consequences of my actions.”
“Oh, please, I can literally lift a car, and you think I can’t carry your ass?” Jessica scoffed. “And you throw yourself into fights with people that could kill you with a thought, don’t talk to me about how self-protective you are.”
“You’re also pregnant, Jessica!” Trish emphasized.
“Right, but not that much,” Jessica countered. “Right now I’m still good to go building jumping. Give me a few more months and I won’t be, and god knows how long it will be until I have the time or energy after the kid is born. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it now. And I’m doing it whether or not you are. It’s your party, do you really want to miss out on the fun part?”
She cocked her head at Trish in a challenging manner, knowing that Trish had, as a teenager, been unable to resist Jessica implying that she was intimidated by anything. She was counting on an adult Trish to respond in the same way, whether consciously or not.
She tried not to grin when Trish huffed and headed towards the balcony of the penthouse.
“Fine, let’s go get this over with and out of your system. Don’t you dare drop me on my head, plastic surgery might do miracles but I’d rather not have to take any chances.”
Following Trish out through the sliding glass doors, Jessica took a moment to look out over the view. The evening sky was just beginning to darken, the setting sun streaking pink and orange across the horizon. Jessica bent her knees slightly and leaned forward, hands held out with palms extended backward to help Trish get a grip to clamber onto her.
“Hop on, Walker.”
Trish shook her head, muttering something Jessica couldn’t make out, but there was affection in her tone, and she didn’t hesitate to grasp Jessica’s shoulders and awkwardly step one foot, then the other, onto her palms. Jessica hoisted her up onto her back a little more firmly, waiting for Trish to get a good hold with her arms around her neck and her knees against Jessica’s waist. She could feel Trish’s slightly quickened, nervous breathing against her neck and the tension in her hands just before she bent her knees and jumped up onto the penthouse’s roof.
“Whoa, you didn’t even give me a count off to prepare,” Trish gasped, tightening her arms around Jessica’s neck, her heart beating rapidly enough that Jessica could feel it against her back. “Can you give me a warning before-“
Deliberately, just to shake her up, Jessica took off on a running start and then leapt, legs splayed out in aim of the closest building. Trish’s words died in her throat and she choked, her face slamming down into Jessica’s shoulder as if she couldn’t bear to look around herself with her world rushing by at such speed and height. Jessica didn’t pause as she landed without much shock to her body when her feet slammed onto the smooth surface. Not breaking the stride of her run pre-landing, she continued, picking up some speed, giddily aware of Trish shrieking in her ear and digging long nails into her shoulders.
Now she remembered why she had loved this so much as a teenager. It had been the one thrilling escape she had from her life with Dorothy and “Patsy,” before she discovered college, drinking, and sex.
For a good fifteen to twenty minutes Jessica, with Trish clinging for dear life, “flew,” with occasional stops on rooftops to insure her balance and catch her breath. It wasn’t Trish’s weight that was the issue, not that she was much bigger in reality than she had been as a teenager; like Jessica had said, she could lift a car, if not over her head, at least high enough to be impressive. It was Jessica’s own body that she had to make adjustments for. Even if she was still not hugely, obviously pregnant, she felt different enough to her own self that she had to re-learn how to use her pregnant body somewhat differently than usual.
By the time she made her way back to the penthouse roof, Jessica was breathing slightly hard but grinning, her veins alit with the rush of adrenaline she had been craving. Trish too was breathless, giggling, and a little unsteady on her feet as she slid off Jessica’s back and grasped her shoulder for balance.
“That was…wow,” she managed. “I forgot how much fun that was. And how terrifying.”
Jessica was still smiling as she gestured for Trish to get back on her back. “We still have to get back to the balcony. Hell, might as well just jump down to the street, I guess I’m ready to head home now anyway.”
She jumped back down with Trish, letting her down safely on the pavement on the backside of the penthouse, and started to walk with her to the front of the building. “I’ll walk you to the front before I go to my car. And if Danny or Luke asks what we did tonight, we ate pizza and watched shitty TV.”
But as they came towards the building’s front, Jessica was stunned and more than a little horrified to see blinding flashes of light and a crowd of people, all gathered around the security guard in the penthouse’s entrance. She heard the buzz of voices and felt the group’s excitement like a physical shock against her chest. Reporters, complete with cameras- people at the very top of the list of things Jessica hated most. But why now? What the hell was going on?
“What?” Trish asked, as confused as she was as she stopped walking, her brow furrowing as she attempted to figure out what had brought out the commotion.
Jessica scowled, instinctively putting herself in front of Trish as though to protect her. For all she knew, she was going to have to. She trusted reporters less than she trusted overly enthused Patsy fans. Far less.
“What did you do now?” she demanded, turning her head partly towards Trish even as she fought the desire to either climb out of her own skin or start swinging blindly at the crowd blocking the doorway. “What was your last show about, who did you piss off?”
“What? No one,” Trish protested, bewildered. “I have no idea why they would suddenly be so interested- and that many of them, oh my gosh! I don’t know what’s going on. Are you sure it’s not you they’re interested in? Or Danny?”
“I don’t care who,” Jessica declared tersely. “I don’t have time for this shit.”
She grabbed Trish by the arm, starting to turn her around in hopes of escaping before the crowd noticed her, but she had no such luck. A clamor started up among them as someone called out Trish’s name, and then the entire pack was hurrying towards them, all talking at once.
“Trish! Patricia Walker!”
“Trish, over here, Entertainment Live!”
“Trish, how long have you had supernatural abilities?”
“Trish, will you show us, live for the cameras, how you can fly?”
“Ms. Walker, is that Jessica Jones with you?”
“Ms. Walker, did Jessica Jones give you supernatural abilities?”
Trish’s mouth fell open, and as Jessica’s tensed shoulders nearly rose to her ears, Trish made things that much worse by bursting into laughter.
“Oh my god, Jessica, they think I can fly! Someone must have seen me, or took a picture or something! But how did they not see that it was you? You must have had your head down or something- still, this is so ridiculous!”
"Don’t care how, we’re just getting the hell away before any of them touch either of us,” Jessica muttered, but it was too late. They were nearly caught up already, seeming insanely faster than they should have been to her in their eagerness to reach their target.
“Ms. Walker! Ms. Walker!”
“Fuck,” Jessica hissed, shaking her head. “Why do you ever let me come up with ideas?”
Boy's Night
Luke awkwardly exchanged smiles with at least 60 plus year old receptionist that was giving him a strong wanting to climb him vibes but that's not the only reason things felt awkward. See he was sitting outside the boardroom at Rand Enterprises, waiting for Danny Rand to finish addressing the board of directors and from the sound of things they are not happy with what he has to say.
YOU ARE OUT OF YOUR MIND IF YOU THINK WE WILL STAND BY AND LET YOU RUIN THIS COMPANY! Gabriel Vasquez shouted at Danny who was standing side by side with his childhood friends Ward and Joy Meachum. Joy clears her throat before she spoke. This decision has been made you can either get on board or accept the buyout of your...MEAGER Shares! Ward cuts off his sister. We do not need your permission to do anything if you count Danny's 49 percent and the 20 percent belonging to Joy and myself we have more than enough power to do this! Danny much more calming presence speaks up. This is my company and this is my decision. The past decades you all have built up enough generational wealth that even if you lived 500 years you would barely make a dent in your money. It's obscene! Rand Enterprises is built on blood money, weapons of war was the first thing I decided we will no longer produce. I moved us to using tech to help wounded soldiers with our cybernetic parts but after Kevin Kilgrave attacked city and it was Rand Enterprises that developed the cure for his powers effect on the people. And instead of being happy with what we did. Joy informed me that this board is trying to profit on that cure by selling it to foreign nations who want to change that platform to track its citizens by dumping our tech into the water supply.
Danny clinches his fist but prevents it from glowing. You have sold our tech to despots and tyrants who will use it to dominate descending voices..No more! Joy steps in again. Before you are what are generous offers rather you stay with Rand Enterprises in the future or decide to leave. If you cannot find the will to move forward I suggest you leave now. This will not stand! Gabriel protest again. We'll sue you into the ground! Looking around the room for support from the other members but finding none. Are you seriously gonna let him just show up after decades and do this? Well I refuse to yield and take this pathetic payout! Shoving himself from the table and walking to stand in from of Danny, Gabriel grits his teeth and seethe with anger as he got right in Danny's face. If you think you can force me out try it! I'll make sure you live to regret it..but don't worry..It will only be for a moment or two! Ward shoves Gabriel back forcing him to fall backward. Old man you forget your place! WARD! Danny grabs him as Ward stood over Gabriel. It's fine this is over and there is nothing he can do about. Ladies and gentlemen next week Ward, Joy and myself will file the paperwork and by years end Rand Enterprises will be a nonprofit charity that will reach out worldwide with our aid. Looking down at his watch Danny turns to Joy and Ward and smiles. You two got this right? Of course go ahead enjoy your night. Thanks I'll call you later. Giving Joy a hug and patting Ward on the shoulder Danny walks out the door to a waiting Luke who looks up at him with a smirk.
Well that sounded like it went well. Shut up and let's get out of here before I punch an old man in the face. Fine by me let's head to my soon to be no longer my club. Not really in the mood for a smokey club tonight. Danny shaking his head no. Don't sweat it, the place is closed tonight the roof is has been leaking so I shut down. We'll have the place to ourselves. Danny grins as he and Luke walk to the elevator a few feet from the boardroom and step on.
So just a quiet night right? Nothing crazy, drama free? Danny asked as the doors closed. What kind of drama can we get into by ourselves in a closed nightclub? Luke answers with a grin.
Back in the boardroom Gabriel back in his seat stares at the offer before him, pushing it to the floor he takes out his phone and sends a text. Eliminate him! Is all he sends. Across town in a Auto Repair garage Yannick Bisson a general in the Helena Cartel one of the few surviving gangs not wiped out by Frank Castle. HEY GET EVERYONE! We got a job!
61 notes
·
View notes
Text
Somehow, I survived dress shopping with Trish. Thank fuck she went for simple.
1 note
·
View note
Text
She was so beautiful.
Jessica’s narrow face, usually set in harsh angles from scowls or tense expressions, was open, soft, almost aglow with pride and affection as she looked across the room at the little girl at her feet. Sometimes, even after so much time, it felt surreal to look at the child and realize all over again that she was hers. Danielle Patricia Cage was her daughter, her very own little girl. She belonged to Jessica in a way that no one else ever had or would.
She was a miracle, a blessing that Jessica still didn’t understand how she had come to deserve, or how she had managed not to screw her up somehow so far. But no matter how dark and flawed her mother was, Danielle had managed to take only her strength, intellect, and determination, with none of Jessica’s more grating qualities. She had Luke’s patience, optimism, and certainly favored him in her appearance.
And boy, was she a little ham.
Grasping a well-worn stuffed elephant in a chubby brown fist, Danielle made a grunting noise in Jessica’s direction, opening and closing her other hand in a gesture that Jessica had come to recognize as her way of asking for something. Jessica raised an eyebrow at her and chuckled, shrugging.
“Come on, Dani, use your words. I know you can holler out “no” just fine if you’re mad enough, so why don’t we try some new ones today? What do you want Mama to get you?”
Danielle waved her hand again and made another, more insistent noise, stubbornly refusing to respond to her more clearly. Jessica laughed again, then snorted when Danielle tossed her toy elephant down, sticking out her lower lip.
“Oh god, I know I’ve seen your dad do that exact same look when he’s hungry. You want something to eat, don’t you, you little mooch?”
She felt the presence of Luke coming up behind her, heard his deeper chuckle join her voice, and without looking, leaned back into his broad, solid chest, relaxed and happy against him. Simply being with the man she loved, watching their little girl, was immensely comforting and satisfying, and each small moment of it still felt huge.
Jessica snuggled back closer into Luke’s chest, covering his arms with hers, and directed a smile towards Danielle, releasing a contented sigh.
“She’s awesome, isn’t she? I can’t get over how I can love a kid this much.”
“But of course you do,” a smooth, self-satisfied voice responded. Its pitch was higher than Luke’s, its accent rounded and carrying a British intonation of its words, and so immediately, terribly familiar that Jessica froze, her muscles rigid against the warmth of the body against her back.
“Of course you love her,” the voice- Kilgrave’s voice- repeated, and hands tightened on Jessica’s arms, almost pinning them down. “She’s ours. Yours and mine, Jessica. Just like you’re mine. Always.”
Jessica’s wide eyes saw then that the hands over her were pale and slim, not Luke’s at all. The body holding her against it was slight, almost bony, its wiry frame humming with excited, frenetic energy instead of radiating out Luke’s steady calm. The arms wrapped around her were no longer an embrace, but an imprisonment.
No, she tried to say, no, this is impossible. No, get away from me, let me go. Let me go!
But she couldn’t bring the words out of her mind to be spoken aloud. When she opened her mouth, Kilgrave’s cold fingers pressed against her lips, silencing her.
“You love me,” he said, slow and distinct. “You love the life we have together. You always have, Jessica, and you always will. You and me…and our daughter.”
To her horror, he turned his head to regard the child in front of them, lifting one arm from around Jessica to open it wide in invitation.
“Come here, Danielle. Come to your daddy.”
Danielle was not yet 11 months old, and she had not yet mastered any further skills past walking while grasping a couch or chair for assistance. But she stood on chubby, unsteady infant legs at Kilgrave’s command, arms wide for balance, and began to toddle towards him, her face alit with her smile.
No, Jessica screamed inside herself. No, don’t touch my daughter, no, none of this can be happening! Not again, not this! Not my baby too!
But she remained against Kilgrave, her body betraying her with its now loose, relaxed posture against him, as though she were comfortable and secure at his closeness. She remained smiling, remained still, as he lifted her baby into his free arm, drawing her into his embrace with Jessica. She remained silent and unprotesting, even as Kilgrave kissed Danielle’s face.
“This is all I’ve ever wanted,” Kilgrave mumurred, his lips touching Jessica’s ear, his voice smug and soft with triumph. “And this is all you’ll ever want now too. Isn’t it so much easier when you just let yourself be mine?”
His lips trailed down her ear, over her cheekbone, and then his mouth was sealed over hers, blocking off any possibility of a scream. And Jessica was dying inside, even as her lips betrayed her in eager responsiveness.
88
Jessica bolted awake with a gasping, shuddering burst of air, her lungs burning as though she had been near drowning. Nearly hyperventilating, she reached both hands up to her face, frantically scrubbing her palms against her lips. She needed to rub away any trace of the lingering memory of Kilgrave’s lips, even before her eyes had adjusted to see in the bedroom’s darkness.
Even as she dimly came to understand that she had been dreaming, that nothing she had just felt or experienced had been real, Jessica couldn’t fully take this in yet as true. Shaking, her skin slick with sweat and traces of tears, she covered her face with her hands, trying to still her breaths. Even reciting those damn street names didn’t seem to help when it came to nightmares of that caliber.
She could feel Luke’s body close to hers, even as she didn’t dare yet to look over and see him. Part of her still feared it wouldn’t be him there at all, that she would be thrown back into an endless loop of horror becoming reality. But when she let one hand drift down, touching her abdomen, she was reassured to feel the small curve of her stomach, evidence of the child not yet born.
Danielle was still safe. Danielle wasn’t even born yet. Kilgrave was at the Raft, more secured away from others there than apparently even death had been able to keep guarantee.
But it was still hard to argue logic against remnants of fear.
Slowly swinging her legs over the side of the bed, Jessica stood, going to stand at the balcony doors of her and Luke’s bedroom and staring out at the night sky. Vast, dark, and aglow with stars, it was somehow comforting to her to see. She knew that Luke was awake, could feel his eyes on her, and pressed her lips tightly together before she spoke.
“Do you ever get scared, thinking about what we’re bringing this baby into? Is it wrong, throwing a kid into the fucked up mess of our lives and all the people that want to bring us down?”
240 notes
·
View notes
Text
Round up at the Raft
Somehow, miraculously, Trish actually managed to stay quiet for the majority of the trip to the Raft. Probably because she knew that Jessica, in her pregnant, stressed out, and very sober state, could not handle much more to trigger her temper, and would likely respond to any irritations from Trish by simply jumping out of the car and hitching a cab the rest of the way.
Jessica would have thought that would be a plus, Trish’s lack of chattering, but instead, it just gave her own thoughts more time to run rampant until she felt that her skin was riddled with adrenaline that she couldn’t bleed out. She bounced her legs jaggedly from the passenger seat, and by the time they did make it to the outskirts of the East River, just off Roosevelt Island. She had been given the approximate coordinates of the location that the Raft would be made accessible to her for her visit to Phillip, and as Trish drew closer to their destination, Jessica texted back and forth with the doctor, sent ahead of her a couple of hours before, to confirm that he had arrived with the vaccinations and that all staff and prisoners had been appropriately protected against Kilgrave. She had arranged a code word ahead of time for him to use if he had any contact with Kilgrave, and when the word was not used, she could be somewhat assured that everything, so far, was going as hoped.
If the doctor could be trusted. And if the vaccines had all worked. If, if, if.
Jessica had little nervousness about seeing Phillip again, at least, that she was able to admit to herself. It would be difficult to see the impact that prison life and isolation had on her little brother, but his choices were his own, and he was lucky that he still had any kind of life at all. She hoped that he would remember that and choose to be cooperative, or at least that she would still recognize at least some pieces of the brother she loved in what the Raft was shaping him into now. But that was beyond her control and beside the point.
It was the expectation of Kilgrave popping up that jarred her, mentally and emotionally. It didn’t matter how much protection they had put in place for people or how high the chances that they would succeed, Jessica still felt strong dread and responsibility to think of all the people he had harmed already and all those he may still. Even though she was no longer vulnerable to Kilgrave’s commands, nor was Trish, Luke, or the others most important to her, it didn’t mean they couldn’t be harmed by someone who was, or that her PTSD had received that memo.
Everything on the river’s shoreline was as had been described to her- a huge garbage scow at the water’s surface, covering up the facility underneath, and although she could not see the cameras or guards, Jessica knew they were there, outside easy surface view. She scanned their surroundings, every muscle drawn taut, and checked the time. Fifteen minutes until the Raft would come to surface, twenty-five until it would submerge. Trish had driven too damn fast for someone who talked about Jessica’s reckless driving skills.
She sent Luke a quick text to let him know she and Trish had arrived, distantly aware that Trish was doing the same for Luke. When a warm hand touched her shoulder, Jessica jumped, her head almost hitting the roof of the car, and barely stopped herself from taking a swing at Trish. Trish, used to this, ducked back just out of her reach and removed her hand.
“I know you hate pep talks, so, hard as it is, I’ll refrain, even though this is absolutely the perfect time and place for one. Notice and appreciate my self control.”
She smiled, her tone playful, but she was obviously assessing Jessica, seeking to reassure in her own sneaky, totally denying it fashion. Jessica shrugged, abruptly shoving open the car’s door.
“Whatever, I don’t do appreciation. That falls under etiquette, and that’s just a waste of time. I’m going to go ahead to the shoreline and wait. Don’t come with me.”
“You still have time before you can go in,” Trish started, but ignoring her, Jessica continued forward. She noticed and was irritated that Trish also got out of the car and followed her, but didn’t comment on it. It wasn’t like the guards would let her in, she hadn’t been approved for that. If she wanted to stand there and have Jessica not talk to her, well, she would get bored faster than Jessica would, for sure.
From the distance, Jessica could hear the smooth, nearly purring engine of an expensive-sounding car, coming closer. She tensed, stopping in her tracks, and resisted the urge to turn around or look over her shoulder. It was probably Danny, coming to accompany them after all, or one of his many employees. Maybe it was even a guard of the Raft, coming in for duty.
But she heard Trish’s gasp as the car drew closer, and the other woman’s quickening footsteps as she caught up to Jessica and grabbed hold of her arm. Jessica had to turn then, but even before she saw the figure emerging from the vehicle that had just parked beside theirs, she already knew from the shaky, cold sense of dread spiking through her just who it was that had arrived.
“Jessica Jones, we meet again. With sustained effort and perseverance on my part, of course.”
Jessica held herself rigidly, noticing with absolute horror that there were three children sitting in the back of the vehicle that Kilgrave had arrived in, all between the ages of approximately five and eight years old. Even more sickening was the fact that all of the children were clearly biracial- just as her own child would be. It was a cruel, evil move, and an obviously intentional reminder of just what Kilgrave was willing to do to Jessica’s own child, if it suited his purpose or goals.
“Kilgrave,” she spat out, the word twisted and sharp on her tongue. “What did you do, put a hidden camera in every building in the city? I knew you’d end up here somehow. Fucking knew it.”
“No, I simply had bugs implanted in all of the cars under Danny Rand’s ownership that I could get people to get hold of,” he shrugged, unruffled by Jessica’s tone. “Anything to reach you. You should know by now the effort I’m willing to go to, to find you. Doesn’t that prove to you how much I love you? What is it that a man has to do for that to get through?”
“No, it proves that you’re a psychotic, sociopathic stalker who doesn’t know how to take no for an answer,” Jessica snapped, not yet taking a step towards him. “And that you’re selfish enough to care more about what you want than anyone else’s life or happiness.”
Her eyes remained on the children, who as of yet were sitting seemingly calmly in the car. She could not see from her distance if any of them had been harmed, but she knew from her own experience just how terrified and out of control they must feel.
“Persistent and devoted would be how I would describe it, but you always did have a sharp tongue. Making everything sound so ugly,” Kilgrave shook his head, making a face of displeased disagreement. “I’d say we can agree to disagree, but I suppose you rather enjoy being contrary. That’s my Jessica.”
“I’m not your anything,” Jessica snapped, taking a step towards him, every muscle tensed for confrontation, fists balled at her side. “I’m nothing to you but your victim, and I refuse to be anymore. Let those kids go. This isn’t about them, Kilgrave.”
To Trish, she ground out in an undertone, “Trish, go to the car. Right now.”
Trish licked her lips, but stood her ground. Kilgrave, to Jessica’s dismay, turned his gaze towards her.
“Patsy,” Kilgrave inclined his head towards Trish, obvious disgust in his voice. “Let me ask you, Patsy, how is it that a woman with absolutely no useful abilities or skills manages to escape my efforts to dispose of her on multiple occasions? Is it sheer luck, or do you have some sort of innate self-preservation talent that saves you when your friends cannot? I truly do want to know, now.”
It was a command- the first directed at Trish, or at anyone who had been vaccinated, since the doses had been doled out. Jessica nearly held her breath, waiting to see what would happen, her fear choking her throat when Trish opened her mouth to respond.
But rather than respond to his question, Trish closed her mouth, shook her head, and smirked.
“Too bad for you, Kevin. I don’t feel like talking to you, so it looks like for one of the very first times in your life, you aren’t going to get what you want.”
For the first time that Jessica could remember doing so of her own free will, she smiled, right there in Kilgrave’s presence. It was impossible not to when the man’s jaw had nearly dropped to his chest.
“That wasn’t an option, Patsy!” he barked, blinking furiously in an effort to regroup himself. “I asked you a question. How is it that you keep escaping death?”
“She gave you an answer, didn’t you hear her?” Jessica put in, smirking. “She said it’s none of your fucking business, and no one’s in control of her tongue but her. Including you.”
“What she said,” Trish agreed, nodding. “With slightly less profanity. But she got it right all the same.”
Kilgrave took a step back, as though Trish’s lack of response to his order was somehow a threat to him, an endangerment. Truthfully, it was, although he could not know to the extent. The vaccines worked- Jessica now had seen the proof for herself, and her heart beat faster now not with fear, but with excitement.
They were going to get him. They were going to end this, finally. They just had to get through the next few minutes first.
“How did you- this is you!” he sputtered, jabbing a finger in Jessica’s direction. “You infected her somehow. Always you, messing things up, making things harder! Why can’t you ever just let things be!”
“Because I have a mind and will of my own, and it isn’t your fucking place to steal it,” Jessica snapped back. “Now get down on the ground, on your stomach, hands behind your back, unless you want me to break your neck. Again. And if you have any other little soldiers in hiding, call them off.”
But Kilgrave didn’t respond. When Jessica sprung forward, grabbing him and far from gently throwing him down and into a restraint on the ground herself, she heard Trish gasp, sucking in a breath. Kilgrave, unresisting beneath her, laughed softly to himself.
“I have to say, Jessie, this brings back fond memories. I always did like you on top.”
“Shut the fuck up!” she snarled, giving him a vicious shake.
She drew back her fist to punch him, hard enough to knock him unconscious, but Trish’s sharp calling of her name caused her to look up, then follow her pointing finger to the children, still seated in the car Kilgrave had driven up in. Only now, each of them held a knife to their tiny throats, digging in just enough that Jessica saw small beads of blood come to the surface of their skin.
Clearly, they had been holding the knives in their laps, just waiting for Kilgrave to be harmed or restrained. What the fuck was she supposed to do now?
Kilgrave laughed, understanding even as Jessica forced his face into the dirt what was happening.
“Try it, Jessie, go ahead and kill me. What’s three more deaths, when you can take down big bad me? It’s worth it, isn’t it? Just a few more deaths on your conscience, so what if they happen to be little kids?”
Jessica froze, stricken with indecision for several seconds. Then, making a decision, she released Kilgrave, throwing him off and away from her. When the children did not further harm themselves, watching solemnly, fear and pain stark in their wide eyes, and Kilgrave, chuckling, started to get to his feet, Jessica blocked out the words he was saying. Instead she took one long jump, landing somewhat gracelessly next to the children in the car, and tugged open the back door. She pried the knives out of each child’s hand, despite their screams and protesting efforts to regain them, and easily broke the knives into pieces before flinging them hard into the East River. As the children pushed past her out of the car, rushing towards the water’s edge in an effort to retrieve the pieces of knife that were already washing past their ability to find, Jessica grabbed one of them by the wrist, hesitating with a guilty grimace.
“Sorry, kid, I have to.”
She hit him, with just enough restraint that she prayed it wouldn’t’ cause permanent head injuries, but enough that the child went unconscious. She lay him down gently and snagged a second child. Trish, seeing what her intentions were, used what Jessica assumed to be some of the ninja skills Danny had been teaching her to restrain Kilgrave, even as Jessica rendered the second and last child unconscious and therefore safe from self harm. Coming back to Kilgrave, Jessica shook her head.
“You don’t know me. You never did, you never will. And you will never touch me or anyone else again.”
Kilgrave flinched, knowing what was coming even before she knocked him out in one blow. She had considered making it a killing one, but at the last second, although she couldn’t explain to herself why, she drew it back, just enough to save his life. Trish, still holding his now limp body gingerly and with disgust, looked up at Jessica, eyes serious.
“Jess, there’s less than two minutes left of the Raft being above surface, we have to get him in there, fast!”
Jessica had barely registered the Raft rising above the water, able to be accessed. She certainly hadn’t been keeping track of time. She would have been impressed by Trish’s ability to track time while simultaneously battling a psychopath, but there were more important matters at hand.
“Then give him to me,” she ground out, already mentally accepting her inability to see Phillip. “I’ve got this.”
She snatched him from Trish, jumping from where she stood the forty feet or so distance to the Raft’s surface with Kilgrave slung over her shoulder like a potato sack. The guards, standing ready to confirm her identity and purpose for her admission, seemed unfazed as she shoved him at them.
“This is Kilgrave, the one you had to get the shots for. Newest prisoner. Don’t know or care what proper protocol for admission is, he needs to be in here. Now, and forever. Don’t trust him, and don’t fuck this up. Someone will call you later if you need.”
Abruptly she leapt back onto shore, just in time to see the stoic guards putting obviously specialized cuffs on his wrists and punching in codes to take him inside. As the Raft began to descend beneath the water’s surface once more, Jessica let her shoulders sag, her heartbeat finally beginning to slow. She could see Trish checking the children’s vitals from the corner of her eyes, making sure they were all stable, but just for the moment, she closed her eyes, letting herself breathe.
It was over, again. At least for now.
Taking out her phone, she texted Luke. “Out of Raft. Not that I went in. Kilgrave showed. He’s their newest prisoner now.”
#jessica jones#jessica jones roleplay#luke cage roleplay#luke cage#trish walker#trish walker roleplay#kilgrave#kilgrave roleplay
27 notes
·
View notes
