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July 5th, 2020

Gender: Male

Age: 40
Country: United States

Signup Date:
September 04, 2015




06/28/2020 06:39 PM 

Love is Love ft. Two Roads


Yellow faded into orange, fading into pink, fading into red as the Saharan dust storm hazed the hues of the sunset against the backdrop of the bayou.  Aiden sat at the end of the pier that extended over the water from the deck of Jackson’s cabin.  Staring off into the horizon, it was apparent that there was something bothering him, something he needed to talk about, but perhaps he just wasn’t sure how to get the conversation started.  Jackson watched from the house, already having a hunch of the issues plaguing his second in command.  

The alpha’s thoughts drifted back to high school when Aiden and Oliver were sophomores and Jackson was a senior.  Oliver had been giving Aiden sh*t over an incident in the boy’s locker room in which Aiden was making out with a jock and when someone caught them, the jock pushed Aiden away accusing him of coming on to him when in fact, it had been consensual.  Jackson’s heart had ached for Aiden as he pulled him and Oliver apart that day; Oliver mumbling a string of derogatory explicatives that prompted Jackson to bust his lip.  It didn’t matter to Jack what Aiden’s sexual preference was and it shouldn’t have mattered to Oliver either.  They were all friends, but more so, they were a pack… a family.  Pack life meant loyalty and only one act would validate turning your back on that, treason.  

For as long as Jackson could remember Aiden had been like a kid brother to him.  Having been an only child, Jack’s brothers were his packmates.  Pack mentality had been instilled in him from a very young age: loyalty, honor, integrity and respect.  Not just to your pack, but to yourself as well.  He was groomed to be the leader, the alpha, like his father, his grandfather and the entire Kenner bloodline before him.  The Mikaelsons may have been the original vampires, but the Kenners were a pack of original werewolves.  The Mikaelsons could look down their haughty noses at what the Crescents were all they wanted.  It was a small price to pay for the freedom Jackson knew they had.  If he had to play a game of Would You Rather, he’d rather be a Crescent with freedom to live without constantly looking over your shoulder for enemies like the Mikaelsons had.

People viewed living in the bayou all wrong.  There is a difference between a swamp and a bayou.  A swamp consists of wetlands, grassy flora, cypress trees, moss and other plant life in shallow water that has little to no movement, often stagnant and producing a noxious gas that sometimes emitted a green glow.  A bayou consists of an actual body of water extended from a river or lake that has a flow or current.  Unlike a swamp, a bayou is not stagnant and although it may feature flora and fauna, it also features estuaries that produce a vast array of seafood such as shrimp, oysters, crab, crawfish and a variety of freshwater fish that were suitable for eating.  Not to mention living on the waterfront provided hours of entertainment with swimming and boating, amazing sunrises and sunsets and an abundance of natural resources to build and handcraft various goods... like new and improved fancy ass cabins.

Being a Crescent in the bayou was highly underrated, but it was a secret Jackson was happy to share with the exclusivity of his pack. There was a certain pride and responsibility that came with pack life and sometimes there were exceptions to the rules, such as family not always being a werewolf or a specific bloodline. Jackson was very welcoming to those who didn’t have families and wanted a sense of belonging. Vivianne for instance, was under the protection of his pack. And more recently, Tyler had been hanging out with them, enjoying the spoils of bonfires, beer and the best damn baby back ribs this side of the Mississippi.

Speaking of pride, Jackson wanted Aiden to be proud and unashamed of who he was. Joining Aiden on the deck, Jackson laid back in a lounge chair gazing off in the same direction. “I know something is on your mind and I’m sure it has everything to do with a not so tall, but definitely dark and handsome party boy that came here for spring break and fell victim to Marcel... Josh. I know you ain’t gonna ask me for my blessing, nor do I expect you to. You don’t need my permission to love someone. Love is love regardless of who or what it’s with. But I’m gonna give it to you anyway because I love you like a brother and I want you to live your best life, unapologetically. Go get Josh, bring him back here and hang out with us. I know him well enough to know he’s cool and if you give everyone else the chance to meet him, I know they will too.”

06/23/2020 02:18 PM 

Legs and Walmart Prompt ft. Illuminare


AU Timeline: This takes place after Jackson’s resurrection, after Hayley’s death, but before Hayley’s resurrection. Jackson is a widower.

“I’m going out, whether you like it or not, with or without you.  I’m tired of being hidden away.  I need to get out.” Davina’s strong will was persistent to the point it annoyed Jackson at times.  An admirable trait, albeit annoying.  His brows were furrowed with frustration, “It’s ‪11:30 p.m.‬ Dav, the only things open past midnight are legs and Walmart.”  Her laughter only served to taunt him more. “Nuh uh, Bourbon Street never closes.”  Jackson pinched the bridge of his nose knowing it was going to be a long night.  He didn’t mind being in the city, but he avoided Bourbon Street for the tourists and the stench of piss, puke and stale spirits.  Not to mention, he and sleep were lovers and since Vincent had asked him to keep Davina safe for a while, he and sleep were having a lovers’ quarrel.  “I told you Jackson, you don’t have to go.”  “I can’t let you go alone Davina.  I made a promise to Vincent that I intend to keep.  If a man can’t keep his word, he has nothing.” “Then I guess you better change, because you’re not coming out with me looking like… that.” Davina gave him a once over, his features displaying an expression of repulse.  “You’re right Dav.  What was I thinking?  Let me go get my overalls…”  “Wait! No! Never mind, you’re fine.  The flannel is… fine.”  Jackson smirked at her, at least having won that small victory.

How did he get roped into this?  Oh right, because Vincent resurrected him turning him into Jesus Christ of the Bayou.  Jackson owed the regent a debt of gratitude, but babysitting a sassy, sexy, little witch was a bit much.  Wait… did he just think sexy?  The f***?  No.  He stewed the entire drive into the city, occasionally glancing over at her catching glimpses of her living her best life.  How could he be brooding when she just wanted to have some fun?  His expression softened and his mood lifted as he pulled into a parking space and paid the meter.  Helping her out of his 4x4, he chuckled when he realized what she was wearing.  “You wore heels to Bourbon Street?  Do you even know what you’ll be stepping in?  Your feet are going to be killing you within the hour.”  She shrugged taking his hand to step down from the truck.  “We’ll see, wolfman.” 

She walked with a purpose, like she knew exactly where she was going, never missing a beat despite the 4 inch heels she was wearing.  He followed close behind, his supernatural senses scanning all directions for danger.  She might have been there to have fun, but he was only there to keep her safe.  Herds of people crowded the streets.  Laughing, jovial, drunk people hopping from one bar to the next.  A combination of music filled the air; jazz, classic rock, pop, all running together where one bar ended and the next began.  Bourbon Street was something everyone should see at least once in their lifetime.  A bucket list kind of thing.  It was not, however, the kind of place you’d want to spend most of your time.  If New Orleans was a department store, Bourbon Street would be the men’s room.  Dirty, littered and foul smelling.  Don’t stay too long and don’t touch anything.  Grabbing his forearm, Davina pulled him into a shop.  His neck jerked around to see the letters on the window spelling out Buckingham Phallus.  A quick glance in all directions made his head spin; dildos, vibrators, c*ck rings, naughty lingerie… “Uh… Davina? I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore…” 

06/17/2020 04:33 PM 

Who Used All the WD-40 Prompt Ft. Town Witch


Mystic Falls was a sweltering 89 degrees in the middle of June, not quite as humid as the thick atmosphere in New Orleans, but it wasn’t the reprieve from the heat that Jackson had been hoping for.  He’d made it to the picturesque town coasting in on fumes as he pulled into the service station to fill the fuel tank of his black Ford F250 MegaRaptor pickup.  It didn’t just look cool, it was functionally necessary to navigate the terrain of the bayou and wetlands he called home. 

To the left of the fuel pumps, closer to the curb, a young woman beneath the hood of her car caught Jackson’s attention.  The expression on her lovely caramel features appeared to be distressed.  He maneuvered his pickup to pull in front of her, the grill facing the grill of her vehicle before stepping out.  “Ma’am.  I can’t help but notice you seem to be having a bit of trouble.  Mind if I take a look?” Her expression changed to one of I don’t talk to strangers, and with good reason too.  While Virginia was below the Mason-Dixon line, it wasn’t the Deep South.  His plaid flannel shirt, hiking boots, backwards baseball cap, mannerisms and southern drawl probably threw her off letting her know he ain’t from around here. “I’m Jackson Kenner. I’m in town to be a guest speaker at this special school for… gifted… children.  Nice to meet you.  See, now we ain’t strangers.” He offered her a warm smile.

Taking a quick peek under the hood, it was apparent that the vehicle’s battery terminals were corroded and it was having trouble getting a start.  Jackson could jump start it, but the corrosion would have to be cleaned first to get a good contact.  “I see the issue here… I’ll be right back.”  In the back of his truck there was tool box containing an array of MacGyverish gadgets.  Obtaining the WD-40, he headed back to the stranded vehicle.  Not only would the compound clean the corrosion, it’d also loosen the bolts, making it easier to remove the battery if she needed a new one.  Aiming the can at the terminal, it shot a spray of sheer disappointment.  “Damnit… who used all the WD-40?”  F***ing Oliver, that’s who.  He was known to use all of something without replacing it.  “I am so sorry.  I’ll tell you what, to save you from having to call a truck, I have tow chains.  We’ll hook it up and I’ll tow you to wherever you need to go.” 

06/14/2020 11:39 PM 

Prompt Reply Pt. - Illuminare


Before the rain started, Jackson went down to the end of the dock to secure the boat to the mooring. Dark ominous clouds crowded out the colors of the sunset, giving the dusky sky an angry undertone. The wind was relentless and unforgiving as lightening wickedly arced through the sky followed by rolling thunder. Evening storms were a normal occurrence in the bayou. They helped cool things down from the heating of the day. This one was shaping up to be particularly violent.

Back at the cabin, the screen door was secured with two latches, one at the top and one at the bottom, keeping it from slamming in the wind. Closing the heavy mahogany door behind it, the cabin became storm proof. Jackson had even hard wired a commercial generator into the electrical panel that ran off natural gas in the event the cabin lost power during a hurricane.

The commotion in his kitchen caught his attention. Davina singing and dancing around to whatever song was in her head. It was some sh*t he’d never heard. Standing in the doorway, he silently watched her. Both amusement and humor played at his features. He’d never had a woman baking in his kitchen before. He’d done a few things with women in his kitchen over the years, but baking wasn’t one of them. She grabbed a chair from the island, pushing it up to the counter to reach some ingredients for whatever she was making that were on the top shelf of the cabinet. As she reached up, she inadvertently gave him a nice view of her perfectly shaped bare backside peeking out from beneath his flannel shirt she wore. While he gazed for a moment, it felt wrong to stare. Adverting his eyes, Jackson noticed her clothes and towel at the entryway. Just as he was about pick them up, he heard her scream, having noticed he was there. Her knee jerk reaction made her unsteady on the chair. His supernatural senses went into overdrive, catching her before she even knew she was falling.

His cognac gaze met her pools of blue as he cradled her in his arms. “Sorry... I... I didn’t mean to startle you.” Gently setting her back down, he went to get her dirty clothes and towel. “I’ll just... get these on to wash.” Plucking two black scraps of lace from the floor, he held them up, quirking a brow before he realized what they where... her bra and panties.

06/12/2020 12:05 PM 

The Wrath of God ft. Nola Reine


Amusement adorned Jackson’s features, his cognac gaze assessing Vivianne’s reaction to what he’d shown her. By the crimson color staining her cheeks he’d guess she was a wee bit flustered. He would’ve blamed the bourbon, but her remark about having not seen a man in a certain capacity in two centuries told him everything he needed to know. He tried to stifle a chuckle, failing miserably and adverting his gaze while doing so. If she were to slap him, he’d certainly deserve it. “I... I’m sorry... I don’t mean to laugh. I’ve never shared myself with anyone like that before and I don’t know how to censor what you see without altering what I need you to see.”

She was lovely; a breath of fresh air in the otherwise stagnant humidity. His fascination with her was not unfounded and he was grateful that she came back so his curiosity could be put to rest. His intrigue, however, was an entirely different beast. The more he discovered, the more he wanted to know. She spoke of Klaus as if she felt betrayed by what Jackson had shown her. He was no stranger to that betrayal. Truth be told, Hayley’s loyalty to the Mikaelson’s was probably what got him killed. He’d been used as a pawn in a game of retaliation, but having been given a second chance, he felt no resentment. Jackson had been resurrected with a purpose. One far more important than even Vincent knew. He’d stopped projecting to Viv for several reasons, one being a trigger he couldn’t divulge. He knew at some point his mission would be revealed, but today he was simply happy to be Jackson Kenner, hybrid alpha of The Crescent Wolfpack.

“I don’t think you missed much being raised in the Quarter. It was a different time then. We were oppressed. Your father gave you the childhood fitting of the queen you are. I can’t find fault with that. Things weren’t much better when I was a kid, the curses and all. These kids though...” He joined her at the window watching the children play, running and catching fireflies, laughing and living carefree. “...They’ll have a childhood to cherish. I’ve seen to that.” She was about to leave when he reached for her arm, gently but firmly pulling her back to stop her. “I’m sorry Viv, but I can’t let you leave. Not alone. There’s a threat trying to infiltrate my pack and while you’re safe here now, the second you step on the outskirts of my bayou, you’ll be in grave danger.” His dark brows were furrowed with a brooding look on his rugged features. “There’s an omega... a lone wolf from another pack. He was their alpha and they banished him. I don’t know all the details surrounding his exile, but he killed one of our elders, leaving a message that our pack needed a better alpha. My moral code defines this as treason. We’ve been hunting him, but so far have tuned up nothing. So at least let me escort you to the Quarter.”

Jackson wouldn’t accept no for an answer. Even with her witchy brain melting abilities, if something happened to her, he’d be devastated with guilt. It was dark now, only the moonlight, fireflies and their superior vision lighting the way as he walked her through the grassy trails of the bayou back to her vehicle. “I’ll ride with you and I’ll have Aiden come...” His thought was interrupted by a deep growl elicited by pain ripping through his flesh from the trap he’d stepped on. A string of explicatives followed that would make a sailor blush. “Sh*t!! The goddamn bloody f***ing hell!!” He wasn’t yelling at her, but in general as panic set in. Not only had he not seen that coming, they didn’t place traps in the bayou, not even for gators. He didn’t see what was coming next either. In a blur Viv was down, a grotesque figure at her throat. He could hear her heartbeat, but she wasn’t moving or using magic to defend herself, which led him to believe she was unconscious. His blood began to boiling, his irises blazing with amber flames. The surrounding water turned to fire as if a layer of oil was burning atop. An apocalyptic scene was unfolding as he found the strength to stand, even with a trap around his ankle.

Although Jackson had been tasked with a specific Divine purpose, this was not part of it. However, he was given discretion to play judge, jury and executioner when appropriate and given his role as the alpha of his pack, right here, right now, was nothing more than appropriate. A wave of kinetic energy threw the figure from Vivianne, tossing him to the ground like a rag doll. Of course it was him, the omega. “You dare to venture into my territory, extinguish an elder, set traps and attack a woman... I don’t know who you think you are, but you will never be me. Not now, not ever. There is no better alpha for this pack than the one who you will never be.” The omega’s body was frozen, unable to move while Jackson approached him, picking him up. The fear on his face was as if he’d seen the wrath of God and known it was real. Fangs burst from Jack’s mouth, sinking into the omega’s neck. Not wanting the foul blood of a coward to taint him, he didn’t drink. His teeth crushed the windpipe snuffing the oxygen supply before ripping the omega’s throat out, leaving his head barely attached. Torn flesh tangled with muscle and bone fragments hung from the lifeless body as the blood drained from it. Dropping him to the ground, Jackson caused the omega to spontaneously combust before wiping his mouth and turning toward Vivianne who was no longer unconscious, but gazing at him in disbelief.

06/01/2020 05:29 PM 

Put Some Clothes On - Reply Pt. 2 ft. Illuminare


It was true that at one time the wolves lived in oppression, but not anymore.  No longer were they interested in the Quarter or being under the boot of any vampire or witch.  They had freedom and independence.  They’d learned to adapt to their environment, making it work for them.  The community of posh cabins was a stark contrast from where they came from and a glimpse into where they were going.  Jackson now owned a contracting company, building homes and infrastructure around the outskirts of New Orleans.  A man of many talents, he was able to juggle being the alpha, a historian for his kind and held a vast array of knowledge on many aspects of the other factions.  Wrapping her ankle in an elastic bandage to brace it, he finally addressed her questions.

“Your fox: in the animal kingdom, it’s classified as a Canid, which can loosely be translated as Canine, give or take a few sub-classifications.  It’s a dog, as am I.  I’m just a little higher on the food chain… a lot higher.  In other words, as an alpha, when I speak, he listens.”  His cognac gaze met her soft hued pools of blue. He couldn’t help but grin at her as he tended her wounds.  “This would go a lot quicker, if you’d quit being stubborn and stopped resisting.” A small gash on her forehead caught his attention, the sight of her blood stirring a craving inside him. His eyes did a thing before looking away to advert her gaze. He was disciplined however, and didn’t necessarily need to feed as often as other hybrids or vampires. “You’re bleeding...”

The screen door slammed on its hinges as the wind picked up, followed by a loud clap of thunder.  Jackson didn’t flinch having known exactly what it was, as the evening storms were a frequent occurrence with the heating of the day.  “A storm is on the horizon.  Not a good idea to be out in one of these.  I hope you have nowhere to be tonight.”  No sooner than the words left his lips did the sky open in a torrential downpour, cleansing the bayou in an angry display of hard rain, heavy winds, thunder and a spectacular lightening display.   

05/31/2020 06:11 PM 

Hold my Beer ft. Necromancy


Hold My Beer

On a typical Sunday night the Crescent wolves would be doing their thing, bonfire blazing, smokers and grills loaded with fresh slaughtered meat and beer a plenty. It was the last Sunday leading up to the full moon and the next week they’d be on lockdown to keep the pack safe from themselves. Needless to say, atypical. This scenario would place Oliver at Stumpy’s Hatchet House, an axe throwing joint, with Jackson in tow as nothing more than a babysitter to keep him out of trouble.

Out of all the places in New Orleans, of course Freya Mikaelson would be there, scoping out a new Brody to piss off Klaus, no doubt. It was a rowdy bar, mixing alcohol and axe throwing in all of its beautiful brilliance. Jackson came to stand next to Freya, ordering a long neck or two, then four and before he knew it six as he observed how bad Oliver was aiming. And the more Oliver drank, the worse he got. Jack wasn’t planning on partaking, just unwinding with a few drinks, until an axe ricocheted off the missed target and hurled its way toward his face. His extraordinary senses and reflexes allowed him to catch it by the handle before splitting his skull. With an annoyed sigh, he looked at Freya and handed her his bottle. “Well sh*t. Hold my beer.”

With the axe in his hand, Jack playfully shoved Ollie aside. He had a slight advantage being that he was a hybrid and it took a lot more to get him drunk. He simply wasn’t that impaired. Checking his aim, he threw the axe with precision, nailing it to the bullseye before smirking at Oliver. “And that, Pup, is how it’s done.”

05/31/2020 03:53 PM 

Zip ties, Rope & Power Tools ft. Defiant Demon


Something about the bayou made people think it was an ideal place to dispose of bodies. It was the third time this month. Jackson observed some dumbass trying to get a tarp wrapped stiff to stay hidden beneath the shallow water. Not that he was a murderer, but if he was going to do this, he would’ve ditched the tarp. In all likelihood, the wildlife would take care of the rest. Still, he watched in amusement. Payne materialized next to Jackson in the shadows, nearly giving him a heart attack.
"Damn! Warn a brother next time. How’s Risse?" 
"She’s good, what are we watching."
"This fool here thinks he’s disposing a body in a tarp. Not without some zip ties, rope, and power tools he ain’t. Even then, not in the water. Fifty bucks says the gators get him before he’s done."
"You’re on mate."

They watched the poor sap abandon the tarp in his frustration, panicking to keep the body from floating. In all the commotion and splashing, what happened next was inevitable by Jack’s calculations. One swift chomp and the chump was gone, dragged to his own watery grave by a 17.5 foot, 1,600 pound predator. Both men gasped, followed by “ouch” in unison. Soon after, another gator followed, taking the dead guy under with him. Again, both men in unison “daaaamn” followed by laughter. Jackson conceded his bet.
"Okay, I did not see the second one coming. So we can call it even."

05/29/2020 11:01 PM 

Prompt: Put Some Clothes On - Illuminare


To anyone else, the little bushy tail would have been a blur as it zoomed past, but Jackson’s senses were supernatural. Not only had he picked up the scent of the fox before shifting, he also knew Davina wasn’t far behind. He watched in amusement as she tumbled down the hill, finally looking up to find her face mere inches from his crotch. It was cute the way she adverted her gaze. He wanted to laugh and say ”eyes up here”, but there was no sense in adding insult to injury. She was already quite flushed. “I can’t help but notice you’re in quite a pre-dic-a-ment. And unfortunately, I don’t have any clothes nearby.” Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the fox peeping around the rock, their eyes locking. He gave a whistle and it came, taking a seat at his feet. “Your ankle doesn’t look so good and you’ve got a few scrapes... You’re probably okay, but just wanna be sure.” Without warning or hesitation, Jackson leaned down to pick her up. He hoisted her over his bare shoulder, gave another whistle for the little fox to follow and headed in the direction of his cabin.

The little fox trailed in his wake the whole way there and scampered in the door as soon as he’d opened it to find a place to hide. Gently setting Davina on one of the kitchen chairs, Jackson headed to the bathroom for the first aid kit, finding a pair of jeans along the way. When he returned, he was at least half dressed, even if the barn door was open. Perhaps a little less of a distraction. Turning a chair to face her, he took a seat. “Now, let me see that foot.”

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