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uzumaki-rebellion · 5 months

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"King Killmonger: The Golden Jaguar" Chapter 5

Masterlist HERE.

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"We hope each soul will find

Around and inside

Another soul to love

Let this be our prayer

Let this be our prayer, just like every child

Need to find a place, guide us with your grace

Give us faith so we'll be safe"

Avery Wilson & Candace Boyd—"The Prayer"

Yani held onto the hand of her baby sister Anika, as her middle sister Dawnette gushed over meeting Tahir. Anika told their entourage of women—Twyla, Zola, Ilana—the story of Killmonger and Tahir spending the night at their Aunt Leona's cramped apartment when she was sixteen and impressionable. But now that she was in her early twenties and legal, she had the right of first dibs on the handsome foreigner to Wakanda.

They entered the banquet venue's snazzy restroom where a full sitting room/powder room was set up before one even made it to the restrooms in a separate section. Checking their make-up and showering the room with their loud gossip over men and available bachelors, Yani noticed Ime in a corner with four other women seated on plush chairs chatting. Anika and Dawnette followed Twyla into the restroom to relieve themselves of wine and other spirits passed around for the after dessert libations. Yani took note of a few other noblewomen clucking together in their various groupings parceled about using wall mirrors to fix hair, and check make-up.

It was obvious that women snuck glances at Yani and she smiled while passing others to get to Ime.

"Princess Yani," Ime said.

Ime stood quickly and her friends did too, showing Yani respect.

"Leave us please…I would like to speak with Ime," Yani said.

Zola and Ilana walked away and kept watch over her for any intrusions.

"Shall we chat for a moment?" Yani said.

Ime nodded and Yani led her to some chairs in a corner that faced away from the other women in the room giving them some privacy.

"I wanted to talk to you about our relationship going forward. After I marry King N'Jadaka, I will be having a series of special events throughout Birnin Zana. Private teas, luncheons, and of course, the Queen's Ball. You and I will see a lot of each other because of Ramatla's position working for my husband."

"Of course."

Ime's voice was sweet as pie, but Yani wasn't keen on her maintaining a façade any longer.

"I know you don't like me. No need for us to pretend that you give a fuck about what I think about you."

Ime's eyes widened and several women within hearing distance moved away quickly to avoid catching strays. Hushed voices spread throughout the powder room and every woman not connected to Yani or Ime vacated the premises immediately. Zola and Ilana strolled over to the restroom toilet entrance to provide interference in case their party came out.

Ime pulled her shoulders back and lifted her head higher. She regarded Yani as a worthy adversary. Her mask fell away.

"It is true. I do not like you. You aren't fit to be queen—"

"You uncouth bitch!" Zola snapped.

Ilana held Zola back.

"I'm a bitch?" Ime said, slanting her gaze toward Zola. "You disloyal witches were so quick to scuttle over to her side that you threw away years of our friendship…and for what? A chance to be around the king?"

Yani glanced at Zola and Ilana. Ime craned her neck back and folded her arms over her chest. Her gaze burned into Yani's face.

"Do you know how many eligible women here that are better than you who would kill to have N'Jadaka Udaku?" Ime said.

"I know you are one of them," Yani said.

Ime didn't flinch. Her lips twisted into a devilish smirk.

"You are damn right. I was one of those women. Had you or that other one not showed up, I'd be in your place right now."

"Listen to this hussy!" Zola hissed.

Yani held up her hand to silence Zola.

Twyla, Anika and Dawnette wandered back in.

"What's going on?" Twyla asked, quickly sizing up the tension.

"Twyla, would you mind taking my sister's back to our party? I need to talk to Lady Ime in private," Yani said.

Twyla took the hint and gathered up the younger women toward the exit. Zola and Ilana followed behind to block anyone else from entering. Yani leaned her left arm over her right on the armrest and crossed her legs.

"I will be queen soon, so any dreams or aspirations you bad minded bitches had about N'Jadaka are over fuh good. I'll fuck up anyone who tries tuh come for we…even Remy."

Ime huffed and jumped to her feet. Yani's chest burned. She took her time standing up like a powerful royal woman with the highest status in the land shared with her man.

"This hatred yuh have in your heart…keep it or throw it away. I don't care. You mean nothing to me. However, we both have a duty to our country—"

"You are not a real Wakandan, Yani Galiber. You are a fake. A blight on the bloodline. You think your position is safe just because you will marry him tomorrow? Hmmph. Then you don't truly know the history of Udaku men. They have an appetite…a lust for life that you could never satisfy as an outsider. No Wakandan man in his right mind would see you as any kind of prize."

"Well, your man has a taste for me, so I can't be all that bad."

Ime's eyes narrowed and her right hand went up high to strike Yani.

"Ime stop!"

Remy's voice rattled them both. He grabbed Ime's arm and pulled her away before her hand connected with Yani's face.

"My apologies Princess Yani. She has disrespected you and I am…embarrassed by this."

Ime snatched her arm away. Her cold eyes had gone beyond jealous hatred. There was envious murder lodged in them too. Yani took a step back sensing an uncontrollable rage flowing through her nemesis. Remy struggled to get Ime's hand back down to her side. She stuck a finger in Yani's direction.

"You aren't special. He will get bored with you…you are nothing like us…"

Ime vomited hatred with her words, and Yani stood strong with a half smile on her face, allowing the woman to get everything off of her chest right then and there. Had Yani worn her finger armor that night, there would've been deep bloody holes in Ime's face. She kept a rigid posture despite her blood pressure going up. A physical entanglement would only fuel the fire of other nobles who felt the same as Ime. Her throat tightened and she parceled her words carefully. Yani's mind screamed to revoke Ime's wedding invitation, but she wanted the woman to watch her nuptials and squirm about it. Diplomacy and tact were the order of the evening.

"Lady Ime, I appreciate your honesty. You have never minced your words, so I will not run around the bush with mine. King N'Jadaka and I are one blade."

Ime's eyes narrowed hearing the euphemism. Remy watched Yani's face with an apprehensive expression. Had it been a club in St. Thomas back when she kept a reckless mouth, Yani would not hesitate to let all of the noble women know she was a good pussy gyal. They way N'Jadaka carried on in her pum pum was all the evidence she needed. The elites could come for Yani all they wanted, but that bad man from the hill wasn't going anywhere.

She took a step forward and Remy repositioned his left foot in front of the tips of her shoes to create a barrior between the two women. Biting back the rancor in her throat and the urge to call Ime a heavy-tongued cow foot whore, she opted to act her position.

"Your campaign to vilify me or make me feel less worthy of the throne has failed. You can't have N'Jadaka, so you go for Remy. The way I hear it, you backstabbed your best friend to get him…so if I were you Ime, I would worry about repairing my social reputation instead of coming for a queen. Good luck with this one, Remy. It's a pity that your family settled for this waste gyal as your future wife—"

Ime lunged for Yani. Remy became a shield. He hugged Yani and protected her body from Ime's attack. Ilana and Zola rushed over and yanked Ime into a corner, pushing her back against a wall mirror. They shoved her shoulders and cursed in her face to keep her from going up against Yani again.

"Please forgive her…I'm sorry for everything," Remy pleaded.

He held Yani's shoulders and she could feel his warm breath blow across her lips. From the reflection in the mirror behind him, Yani noticed N'Jadaka walking in with Twyla. Remy's hands dropped away from her body quickly, but N'Jadaka saw it all. Ilana rushed to the king's side and whispered something to him before he reached their side of the powder room. He moved like a stalking cat toward Ime afterward, ignoring Remy and Yani completely. Zola stepped to the side giving N'Jadaka space. Ime cowered before the man she desired above all others.

Everyone remained silent. N'Jadaka's smoldering presence held them all in a chokehold. Ime trembled.

"Look at me," N'Jadaka commanded.

Ime turned her head to the side and refused to do so. N'Jadaka crowded her body and Yani knew exactly how that felt up close. The heat. The crackling energy. The sexual prowess. It was too much to process all at once, and for a mere second, Yani pitied Ime. Her greatest desire was right in front of her and she couldn't even look at him.

"Don't make me repeat myself."

"King N'Jadaka, I beg…let me remove her from your presence. She has been drinking—"

"Do you have permission to speak to me?"

N'Jadaka didn't bother to look at Remy. His voice boomed and the message was received.

Stand down.

Ime lifted her head. Watery eyes peered at the king.

"I don't normally get into women's business, but I warned you once about bothering her, so now I will give you a choice. Get on your knees in front of her and beg forgiveness for your insolence or I will strip you from your title and make life hell for your entire family."

Ime jammed her back against the mirror with horror dripping from her eyes.

"She accosted me…I was minding my own business with friends," Ime whined.

"Ime…just do it. Stop making this worse for yourself. If you have no title, we cannot marry," Remy said.

The tears fell then. Ime wiped at her eyes as if her own body betrayed her. Yani slipped her hand around N'Jadaka's.

"Let it be. She's drunk and we know how powerful the drinks have been tonight. We need to leave for rest. Our wedding will be here soon, king," Yani said.

Mercy.

That is what Yani gave Ime. Although it would've been a sight to see Ime groveling at her feet, Yani wanted to be above the woman in the best way. Knowing N'Jadaka showed his trump card, she doubted Ime would get out of line ever again. The threat of losing a title was worse than going to hell in Wakanda.

The king allowed Yani to lead him away from Ime, and Remy rushed to her side, throwing an arm around his fiancé's waist. He guided her quivering form away from certain banishment. Twyla wandered over.

"Gossip has already spread outside. When you walk out of here, look cheerful like nothing happened," Twyla said.

Strolling hand-in-hand with Twyla cracking a joke, they left the powder room laughing. Their performance was good enough to get them past a few people, but it was clear the mood had shifted in the banquet room toward her. The upper class were shook to their core. No one was safe if the king jumped for Yani like that in public.

Yani gathered up her children with Leona and Dante's help, and they all bid farewell to the hosts and their dinner companions from the center table. Couples were still dancing and liquor still flowed and would do so into the night. Nobles from all the tribes rushed up to Yani and wished her a good evening, hoping that she graced them with her sweet voice and a smile. N'Jadaka shook hands and accepted congratulations for their upcoming nuptials once more. She waved at her favorite people throughout the banquet room while Zola and Ilana stayed close with her sisters in tow.

N'Jadaka held Yani's and Joba's hand until they were outside the venue boarding a different vehicle with the children by themselves. Yani turned on the sound-proof barrier for the back seat where Joba, Riki, and Sydette sat comfortably, their eyes drowsy from all the activity of the day. They spoke freely without their driver and guard hearing.

"I'm glad you didn't fight her physically," N'Jadaka said.

"Me too. It wouldn't be a good look for us, no matter how much she deserved to get boxed. She knows where I stand. That's the important thing when dealing with a yamhead gyal."

"Remy has a problem on his hands."

"You do too."

"How's that?"

Yani leaned into him and held onto his arm.

"According to her, you were supposed to be her betrothed if I hadn't showed up in Wakanda. Remy was her back up consolation prize."

The corners of his lips went down and his brows joined in the center.

"This caste culture is very particular, very selective of whom they pair couples. The more I learn, the more I see how dangerous it was for my father to choose my mother. Sometimes I think she would've received the same treatment."

"They aren't nice about my foreignness at all in Ime's cliques. She even insinuated that Ilana and Zola only came to me to get close to you."

"We know there are advantages being around me. But those two…," He gave a casual glance to to Yani, "Their hearts are in the right place. They adore you. I know they have crushes on me, but those are just harmless feelings. Most times I have to bargain with them just to get you to myself all alone."

Yani grinned and stroked a finger up and down his chest.

"Are you still going to your bachelor party tonight?" she asked.

"It's not a party. A little get together with the fellas."

"Where will you guys go?"

"We're staying in the palace. I have some food and drinks prepared up in the salon. We'll play cards, smoke cigars…catch up with my cousins. Nothing crazy."

"Strippers?"

Yani giggled and N'Jadaka put an arm around her pulling her into his side. Her breasts mashed into his chest.

"I've seen enough naked women in my life to last me. Every color, size, and from damn near every continent. I'd get bored watching some stranger shake ass for mere entertainment with a bunch of men. Smoking, drinking and shooting the shit is all I want to do. Besides…I have the baddest woman on the planet and I'll get my own private show after we get married."

She puckered her lips and he lowered his head to brush his mouth against hers.

They arrived in the palace parking structure at a reasonable hour. N'Jadaka carried Joba and Riki, while Yani carried Sydette in her arms. Back at their home, Kora helped guide the children away from the front door in their sleepy daze toward the stairs.

"I guess we have to say goodnight here," Yani said.

She wrapped her arms around N'Jadaka's waist and he held her close.

"Yep. I say goodbye to Princess Yani forever. I'll miss her."

They locked eyes, basking in the moment together.

"Thank you for never giving up on me…even when you thought I was gone forever. Thank you for making sure our children knew about me. Thank you for being the light that brought me back to myself…the light that showed me that I could find a perfect love in paradise. You have made this imperfect man so very happy."

"Thank you for coming into my life…thank you for believing in me and making sure I was taken care of even when you thought death was a possibility for yourself. Thank you for being the love of my life…choosing our precious Sydette as your own and giving me my beautiful son. Thank you for trusting me to raise a special extra daughter too. You have made this equally imperfect woman very happy too."

"Well shit, we might as well be married now. Sounded like we said some vows," he joked.

"I know. I'm actually happy that we don't have to say a lot tomorrow. I already feel like crying…"

"Aye girl…no tears…"

Yani buried her face in his chest and wept out her happiness. He rubbed her back with loving hands and cooed in her ear soft words of love.

"You are my life, baby."

He pulled away and kissed her forehead.

"Go on now, get some beauty rest. We all get to sleep in until twelve thirty. I shouldn't even be looking at you right now. We're supposed to stay separated," he said.

She held his hands, not wanting to let him go, not wanting to part from his warmth and strength. Staring into his eyes, she luxuriated in the overpowering essence of his presence the way Ime had experienced him up close. Yani still thrilled to his energy and aura. She pulled him in for a kiss…a long one. Their heads moved from side to side and his hands palmed her backside, squeezing the heavy orbs. His tongue explored and made promises for their wedding night. He kissed her woozy and she stepped back on weak legs. Her brain felt mushy and her body tingled all over. Especially down below.

"I should go now," he said.

"Okay."

Neither one of them left the front door.

"I have to change clothes for my bachelor party," he said.

"Hmmm."

His dimples and septum ring mesmerized her. The glint of his gold panther teeth held her captive when his lips parted in a gentle smile. The king's body heat wrapped her in a cocoon of love. His too-muchness enveloped all of her senses and she suppressed the urge to look away from his face.

N'Jadaka's kimoyo beads lit up breaking the spell for Yani.

"It's Mpilo…I betta dip. Can't be late to my own gathering," he said.

Yani moved away from him knowing that if he touched her again, she would pull him into their home and up to her bed.

"Love you," he said.

She blew him a kiss and dashed inside the front door, closing it quickly. Resting her back against it, she touched her face. It was hot and a light sheen of nervous sweat covered the back of her neck. She touched her stomach to calm the butterflies there. Lord…he still made her swoon like it was their first time together.

"Are you alright, Princess Yani?"

Sindiswa, the evening attendant for their home approached Yani with concern.

"I'm fine. Can you please bring me some bria tea and chocolate biscuits to my bedroom?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Yani climbed the stairs thinking of love, family, and finally having her happy new beginning with N'Jadaka.

Sunrises in Wakanda were a stunning tapestry painted with the delicate hand of Bast.

N'Jadaka rose early before the streaks of orange, rose, pale turquoise, and magenta saturated the horizon heralding the golden return of the sun.

He bathed in a wide tub filled with oils and herbs to purify his body for marriage. The humble priest Dinani waited for him on the balcony where they prayed together in the language of Bast, the ancient tongue that supported him through his transformation on the holy mountain. Ogum stirred in his chest and quickly rose to the crown of his head where the energies of two gods merged.

The ancestors rested within him.

Dinani and N'Jadaka's former temple caretaker Ayiz'e smudged him head to toe fully nude with river sage and more prayer work. As the sun rose, he watched it golden the sky while listening to a recording of a berimbau being played by his mother and a drum pounded by his Grandpop. He prepared his mind for hours of ceremony and honed in on Ayiz'e warming up a thick glob of ceremonial body butter in her hands. The pale yellow substance melted into clear oil and she rubbed it all over him, even his locs. It smelled wonderful, like citrus and honey. She knelt down and rubbed it on his buttocks and the back of his thighs. Dinani observed the preparation making sure no spot on his body was missed. Ayiz'e started rubbing the oil on his groin and when she stroked his flaccid penis and scrotum with it, Dinani held up a tied leather bundle about seven inches long.

"Kumkani, before you consummate your union with the new queen, you must remember to give Bast an offering of your semen first. Princess Yani has been trained properly to do this with you. We would all be pleased if you conceived a new heir on this night," Dinani said.

Ayiz'e finished oiling his nutsack and the front of his legs and feet.

"He is heavy with seed. We can expect plenty of blessings in the king's future," she said.

Dinani smiled.

"This is good to hear. It has been a long time since the royal family has had a bounty of children. Bast will be pleased with our king. We shall take our leave now until we see you at the wedding temple," Dinani said.

They left the suite and an attendant brought his early morning breakfast. Pork medallions, porridge sweetened with sugared red berries, buttery biscuits and slices of fresh fruit. He ate his meal alone on the balcony, calming his mind and the wedding jitters. The eagerness to be married right away already overwhelmed him. He wished they could skip all the ceremonial work, but the new marriage had to follow ancient Udaku customs.

Belly full and mind straight, he relaxed in bed for a short respite until it was time to dress. His wedding robes were brought to him and his personal stylist helped him dress. Ayiz'e returned to twist his locs into an elaborate bun with a few strands left to fall on his shoulders. She checked the wedding clothing front to back. His black opal ceremonial robes were blacker than an inky sky at midnight, but as he moved, the robes refracted an array of colors in blue, green, and silvery gray hues that looked like tiny galaxies bursting light in deep dark space.

"He is ready," she said.

Once more, she smudged him with a different bundle of dried plants that smelled spicy and sharp in the nose. It fit his personality. He sniffed it as she passed around him.

"You recognize it?"

He shook his head.

"Bast Root. It is the plant that we used for ceremonies before vibranium fell from the sky. This plant cradled the vibranium meteor when it landed. Bast led King Bashenga to it, and soon after, a patch of it mutated into the heart-shaped herb that we cultivate today. This original plant links us to our past because the Panther Goddess led us into our future. Smudging with it calls Bast and her sisters down to be with you on this day."

"I understand," he said.

Ayiz'e left his side and he stared at himself in the mirror.

"You truly are a king."

N'Jadaka turned his head and Dante walked forward.

"Your parents are with you…they can see how handsome you look, JaJa."

"I feel them."

"They came to me in a dream last night. All I could do was tell them how excited I was to watch you marry Yani, and they looked pleased. I woke up before I could remember what they said, but I'm sure it was something like 'We love you, son.' Their faces were so shiny…so close to me that I could touch them."

Dante touched N'Jadaka's shoulder and admired his wedding garb.

"Are the guys ready?" N'Jadaka asked.

"Waiting for you at the carport. Yani and the children have already left for the temple."

He took a deep breath and checked his clothing again. Dante tapped his arm.

"Come…let's go get your wife," Dante said.

N'Jadaka walked with his grandfather out of the suite. Four Dora Milaje and six kingsguards awaited him outside. They rode a private elevator down to an underground carport where his groomsmen stood near their vehicle transports wearing custom obsidian Wakandan suits that complimented N'Jadaka's robes.

"You look clean man!" Shawn said, giving N'Jadaka dap.

"Damn, I feel like royalty too," Walter said, showing off his outfit.

Tahir wore a custom suit that incorporated his cultural heritage into the design. Mpilo grinned from ear to ear in his own attire. Bibi shook N'Jadaka's hand and congratulated him on his day.

His older cousin, Junie paraded around in his suit.

"I think I ate too much last night," Junie said, patting his stomach.

"I think that fat has always been there," Bibi joked, poking Junie's round belly.

His cousin Nevaeh hugged him. She wore a long overcoat over her covered dress and would walk as his groomswoman carrying flowers to represent Marisol's missing presence. Yani's cousin Kendall was doing the same as a bridesman filling in the gap of missing family from the Galiber side. He would escort Nevaeh down the aisle.

"How are you feeling, JaJa?" Nevaeh asked.

"The nerves are kicking in a little bit, I'm not gonna lie," he said.

She kissed his cheek and wiped away the smudge of her lipstick.

"Are you ready to leave, kumkani?" a driver asked.

"Let's rock and roll," N'Jadaka said.

They split into three cars and N'Jadaka sat next to Dante.

The streets of Wakanda were jam packed with spectators who had lined up on every avenue and street corner waiting to catch sight of the royal family. Every inch of the city looked decorated and the festive energy of the citizens forced grins on all their faces in the cars. The wedding was the celebration the country needed after a tumultuous year adjusting to life removed from the Infinity War.

He watched people dance and throw flowers at the cars as they were whisked to the heart of the golden city where the temple waited. Traffic clogged up two blocks before they arrived at their destination, and they waited patiently for the kingsguards and the royal onyx squad to make way for their cars to get through.

They crossed through the gauntlet ten minutes late, but N'Jadaka didn't care about time. He stayed in the present moment, feeling all the feelings, letting the fervor of the crowd wash through him.

The ancient temple loomed in front of them. The last time they had been there was to reunite with his parents, but that sadness didn't linger over the ancient site. It beckoned to him with an ethereal beauty and gave him the gift of peace in his heart. His parents were there waiting to watch him wed. Their spirits hovered all around him.

Their vehicles were ushered into a covered parking structure on the west side of the temple entrance where his clan and extended family convened. Umama, Ramonda, and an army of other Udaku relatives stood waiting for him and his groomsmen.

"You look amazing Umama. You too, Ramonda," he said.

He hugged as many relatives as he could before a wedding director arrived and pulled him away from Soliel, Aujannue and Serah to give final instructions. Nevaeh's mother Rolita straightened the locs that tangled on his shoulders from all the hugging. The family drummers stood nearby waiting for their cue, and the family griot, his cousin Didah, walked in front of everyone carrying a centuries old staff that was carved with family sigils of protection. She touched the top of her forehead and took a deep breath before approaching N'Jadaka. He could feel the rising energy of his family behind him.

"Cousin N'Jadaka, the temple is packed. Your grandmother has permitted some people to stand in the back, so when we go in, please keep yourself in the center behind me at all times until we reach the front. The acting griot for the Galiber clan will come in right when the last of our family has been seated."

N'Jadaka nodded. He heard Didah's words, but his body sensed the anticipation inside the temple. Somewhere on the otherside of the structure, Yani was waiting for him. His heart thudded in his chest and his hands went clammy. Umama lifted his chin with her hand.

"Breathe, grandson…that's it. Relax and breathe."

Tunnel vision and anxiety ran through him. The overstimulation forced him to gulp in air. Serah clasped his hand and his Uncle Addae slipped next to him and gripped his elbow to steady him. N'Jadaka was about to ask for a chair to sit in, but a comforting warmth spilled down from the crown of his head and flowed to his feet. He closed his eyes. Her familiar scent came down on him the way it did when he used to cook in her kitchen when he was a little boy. Florida water.

Nana Jean.

"I'm glad you're here too," he whispered under his breath.

He knew his great-grandmother always stayed with him, but the scent of her protective potions surrounded him…grounded him. Standing tall, he shook his hands and prepared to swagger down the aisle so the world could see a king claiming his queen.

Didah gave him the biggest smile that rivaled the sun shining above them. She tilted her head back and burst into the first stanza of their family history and the drummers matched her strong voice as they pounded out the backing rythmn. His groomsmen and groomswoman were led away to join Yani's bridesmaids and bridesman to prepare for their entrance.

"I feel you all in me," N'Jadaka said out loud to his ancestors.

He held onto Dante's and Umama's hands and followed Didah out of the covered structure. The drummers controlled the pace of their trek around the temple and once they entered, N'Jadaka focused his eyes on Dinani the priest who waited for them at the front.

The temple overflowed with guests and their excited energy pushed against the king, adding an extra layer of sensory overload he tried to control. He was happy, so very happy, and every inch down the aisle heightened the experience. The piercing pride in Didah's voice carried him along as she sang out the story of the Udaku family leading the country for generations. Each time she named a queen or king, N'Jadaka felt their movement in his core as if they each tapped his soul to let him know they were walking beside him. He laughed out loud when Queen Shuriya's name was uttered. His greatest grandmother tickled the back of his neck and a vision of her clouded his eyes before the next name was called. His family gave a call and response with the drummers as they circled the temple allowing all the spectators to see the great King N'Jadaka in all his royal splendor. They made their way back up the aisle as his father's and mother's names were uttered. Umama let out a ululation that rippled through the family and N'Jadaka's knees almost buckled hearing the pain that was still in his grandmother's throat.

He closed his eyes when he felt a kiss from his mother on his temple and another kiss from his father on his forehead. He wiped his eyes and guided his elder relatives to their seats on a dais behind the priest. The rest of his family filled in the reserved seats in front of their guests.

N'Jadaka looked across the rows of guests and acknowledged the nearly nine hundred non-Udaku family members facing him. Sunlight filtered through the temple and illuminated the majestic indoor trees that created the canopy roof, their wide-sweeping branches intertwined with the solid pillars and Goddess statues making the atmosphere look surreal and holy. Didah and the drummers concluded their family song by highlighting N'Jadaka's bravery in protecting the people, and he danced entertaining the crowd. A few elderly Udaku aunts and uncles stood up and encouraged him to show out and he granted them a show. Umama and Dante hooted and hollered for him too. A bold drummer jumped in front of the king and pounded an extra rhythm for his feet and shoulders and he allowed his limbs to cut loose. The unseen Galiber clan called out his name loudly from the back announcing their entrance, and he ended his dancing by bowing to his grandparents. A riotous applause cascaded from the foreign guests in the audience.

Didah took her place behind him on the dais waiting for Yani's family griot to orate about her family.

The sound of clashing blades echoed from the far side of the temple. N'Jadaka waited with great anticipation. Kendall, and about fifteen of Yani's adult family members carried shiny cutlass blades and lit torches. They didn't use drums for a percussive sound, but sang acapella about Queen Mary, their history of enslavement and liberation using the acoustics of the ancient temple to echo the beauty of their combined voices. Leona walked among them lending her voice with her head held high wearing a strapless puffy champagne-colored gown decorated with tiny cutlass blades. Her salt and pepper hair was carefully decorated with Ginger Thomas flowers the official island flower from their home. Several young children and teenagers from their family followed along clapping to the beat and gazing at the wondrous beauty of the ancient temple.

Although Yani's family was small in number representing their clan in comparison to N'Jadaka's, they kept the guests spellbound listening to the story of their island roots and their connection to Africa through the diaspora. After singing the folk song of Queen Mary, Kendall took over the oral history and sang/rapped about their family. The other relatives stomped their feet and clapped their hands with percussive beats supporting his playful delivery of Caribbean history. The Galiber clan circled past N'Jadaka, and Kendall helped Leona join N'Jadaka's grandparents on the dais with four other elder cousins from her family. N'Jadaka moved over to them and gave them hugs and kisses before quickly taking his position back in front.

Kendall stood before Didah and the two of them had a playful back and forth of singing. Didah challenged Kendall to tell the world why Yani was the best woman for N'Jadaka and the young man waved his blade around and pointed the torch at the king. The fire was close enough to heat N'Jadaka's cheeks.

Didah held a long singing note and studied N'Jadaka's face.

"Is this woman for you, kumkani?" Didah asked.

"Bring her to me," he replied and the Udaki family laughed and clapped because he was supposed to simply say "Yes."

Didah's smile swelled his heart and she turned her attention back to Kendall.

"The king has spoken," Didah said.

Kendall grinned and attendants took away all the torches and cutlass weapons. The Wakandan drummers pounded away giving Kendall time to ceremonially return to the bride-to-be letting her know she was called forth. The sweet orchestral sounds of Wakandan strings, flutes, and violins mixed with the beautiful vocals of his paternal grand aunt serenading the strides of Twyla and Bibi. Twyla was already bawling as she clutched her husband's arm and the bouquet of flowers. Yani had all of her bridesmaids wear custom-made, iridescent mother-of-pearl dresses that each woman was allowed to choose in their personal style. Twyla's garment was a one shoulder wrap dress with a high slit on the left side. Her shoulder-length locs were also heavily decorated with island flowers. She clutched Bibi's arm tight while sniffling toward him. They stood on either side of N'Jadaka and he bent over and kissed Twyla's cheek, wiping her tears away.

"I'm sorry..I'm sorry…" Twyla whispered.

N'Jadaka laughed at her and she gathered herself together.

Zola and Ilana walked down with Tahir and Mpilo wearing elaborate crisscross halter neck gowns. The slits in their dresses were more modest, but their elaborate braided hair-dos showed flair and sassiness in their style. Mpilo looked terrified of messing up his walk down the aisle with Ilana, but he relaxed more when the king smiled at him. The heavenly music elevated the feelings in the temple and N'Jadaka touched his chest hoping it wouldn't explode before Yani appeared.

Anika and Dawnette made the long walk down the aisle with Walter and Shawn. Their dresses were a matching ruched style with sequins at the top and satiny overskirts that reminded N'Jadaka of mermaids. They crafted thick twists in their hair and wore their hair flowers tucked at their left temples like Billie Holiday.

Junie escorted Shuri who stunned everyone with her make-up and hair. She had fluffed out her hair into a perfectly coiffed 'fro where flowers were strategically placed to look like they grew from her scalp like a giant ebony bouquet. Her dress had a plunging neck with split sleeves that showed skin powdered with sparkly dust that twinkled like stars on her rich brown skin. As she passed the front row, she gave a nod to Nakia who held a sleeping Toussaint on her lap. Shuri gave a sly smirk to N'Jadaka knowing he was peeping all the extra make-up she never wore in her regular life. His young cousin looked stunning and his older cousin Junie looked proud to escort her in front of the Udaku clan.

Kendall strolled out with Nevaeh whose custom dress shared her Native heritage with Yurok detailing of abalone shells and stringed shell beads that dangled around her waist like a fancy apron that jingled as she walked. She wore a long braid threaded with flowers all the way to the small of her back. When she separated from Kenny she blew a kiss to N'Jadaka and showed him the extra bouquet of flowers she held for Marisol and Disa.

The music changed into a melody that transfixed the entire temple gathering. A young woman sang like an angel with a choral ensemble backing her up high above them. N'Jadaka lifted his gaze to a balcony above the temple entrance where the angelic voices rained down on them like holy blessings. He now understood why Umama insisted that the wedding take place in the late afternoon. The placement of the sun in the sky had its sunrays directed into the temple by the architecture where it created a natural spot light for his children coming down the aisle next.

The entire congregation stood up when Joba appeared, flower crowned with her thick wavy hair shiny with ringlet curls all down to her back. She held a basket of flowers and threw them in front of herself as she slowly walked in the procession. N'Jadaka heard the oohs and ahhs of their guests. The sun made Joba's skin a deep mahogany brown like her mother's and he beckoned for her to keep walking to him so he could hug her. Although her walk was out of order for an American custom, the Wakandans deemed it appropriate for the youngest child in the bridal party to herald the coming of the new wife with flowers and acceptance from the priest.

Joba reached the front and her eyes took in the ancient wisdom of Dinani who presided over the ceremony. Dinani gestured for Joba to come forward and the little girl paused, staring up at the expectant priest. Twyla waved for Joba to come to her side, but Dinani stepped forward and held Joba's hand. Something sacred transpired between the priest and his child. Dinani glanced at N'Jadaka and smiled. Whatever it was made the priest happy. N'Jadaka reached for Joba's hand and pulled her in front of him. He kissed the top of her head and the sweet show of affection made a few guests wave their hands in approval.

Sydette, his ring bearer, stepped lively carrying a satin pillow in her right hand that held the wedding rings. Her left hand kept a tight grip on a red satin binding rope that she would tie around her parent's wrists as part of the wedding ceremony.

His eldest child's hair carried buoyant curls that almost looked bigger than Shuri's 'fro with a braided Mohawk style. A few flowers were tucked into the intricate braiding pattern along her scalp accentuating the fullness of her curls, and her face glowed as she kept her eyes on her Baba watching her steps. Sunlight dappled across her hair and face as she drew closer to him. Her dress matched Joba's, silvery white and princess-styled to fit her age.

"Hey Sweet Pea," he said.

She fixed her lightly pink-glossed lips into a big smile for him showing big dimples like him, and took her place by his side next to Joba. He bent down and gave her a kiss on her nose and she giggled, patting his cheek with the hand carrying the marriage tie. She glanced at her sister and Joba giggled making Sydette giggle more.

"Wait until you see Mama," Sydette said to him.

N'Jadaka straightened right back up and waited for Yani to appear. Before she stepped into the temple, he heard her voice singing the words that were meant for him in that little St. Thomas club so long ago.

"Can't do without you for sure

Amount a place I and I explore

Still nuh find nobody else I adore

Them can't stop we, yeah

Yuh love a sumn wah mi have to protect

You are my balance and my ease to mi stress

Your vibration never fail me yet

Wull on pon me, yea…"*

N'Jadaka had been unaware that Yani was going to sing during their ceremony. Their rehearsal had been calculated from start to finish and at no time was he made aware of his bride serenading him. His ears caught the lead singer of the choral ensemble vocalizing the exact same English words into Wakandan, lending her vocals after Yani finished.

Like it had been in the past, he was mesmerized by Yani's voice before she even stepped into his sight.

Riki held his mother's hand and led her into the temple. His royal robes were an exact replica of his father's. His hair was fluffed out into the big sandy-red sunburst of his grandmother Califia. Yani wanted her son, the first child born to N'Jadaka, to give her away for the ceremony.

N'Jadaka's lips trembled as he watched the beaming face of his gorgeous bride walking toward him in all her glory. Yani's silvery-white dress sparkled in the light of the sun rays that struck the shimmery iridescence in all the right places. Form-fitting, a hood covered her head that fell back into a luxurious train, accentuating the roundness of her beautiful face and big tranquil eyes.

His heart stopped.

N'Jadaka gasped and Joba patted his wrist keeping his spirit from flying out of the room. He held out his hands, palms up, willing his radiant bride to come to him with all his might. Riki took his time setting Yani's pace. The boy wanted to show off his mother. The Wakandan choir sang over their bridal march with a hymnal that brought tears to N'Jadaka's eyes. Yani transported him.

He stood nude in warm liquid inside a Caribbean sea as a young mouthy woman fussed at him to get out of her waters. Surly eyes from the past challenged him to show his true self in a hectic kitchen on a compound until he clawed his way back to humanity and fell in love with his future queen. Yani beckoned him into the ocean of her love for all time. Was there no better proof of higher powers protecting him than that divine encounter with her?

Nothing prepared him fully to witness a vision coming toward him that made his whole body quake. He gasped for breath. Joba squeezed his hand.

"Its okay, Baba. Umi Yani is coming," Joba said.

Riki stopped halfway to the priest and puffed up his chest.

"Baba, come get Mama!" Riki shouted.

The congregation erupted into cacophonous laughter. Like his father, Riki eschewed tradition and said what needed to be said. Sydette pushed N'Jadaka forward and he took eager strides toward Yani. He was supposed to sing the royal wedding song that grooms shared with the bride, but he spoke them instead. The Wakandan words slowed down his steps and he approached Yani full-throated and proud:

"Come when the nights are bright with stars Or when the moon is mellow; Come when the sun his golden bars Drops on the hay-field yellow. Come in the twilight soft and gray, Come in the night or come in the day, Come, O love, whene'er you may, And you are welcome, welcome.

You are sweet, O Love, dear Love, You are soft as the nesting dove. Come to my heart and bring it rest As the bird flies home to its welcome nest.

Come when my heart is full of grief Or when my heart is merry, Come with the falling of the leaf Or with the redd'ning cherry. Come when the year's first blossom blows, Come when the summer gleams and glows, Come with the winter's drifting snows, And you are welcome, welcome…"**

He smiled, happy that he was able to remember every word and say them with enough eloquence in flawless Wakandan. Pausing for a moment to look over her stunning appearance, he relished the sight they created standing in the center of the temple with the warmth of the sun caressing them.

"Will you walk with me Yani Galiber?" he asked.

Yani kept her eyes locked onto his face. She fought to keep any tears from welling up, but the shimmer on her lower lids lost the battle. He never wanted to see her cry, but he made an exception for that day. Riki nudged her hip with an impatient hand. She cradled her son's chin and spoke to him softly.

"Should we?" Yani asked Riki.

A saucy grin curled Riki's lips and he nodded enthustiastically.

"I will walk with you King N'Jadaka Udaku," she said.

"Say that one mo' 'gin," N'Jadaka teased, cupping a hand to his ear.

Yani laughed and obliged him, her voice as soft and magical as it had been the first time he heard it.

"I will walk with you forever King N'Jadaka Udaku…my Golden Jaguar."

"Aye!" he shouted while offering her his arm. She held onto him with a firm grip and he clasped Riki's hand, escorting them both to Dinani.

Yani held tight to Riki's hand while the adult bridesmaids and groomsmen walked into the temple stepping in time to the exalted music playing for them. Several women priests had smudged her and the children with aromatic plants and oils before they left the palace and once again, a young female priest circled Yani and the children with a gold incense burner trailing a spiraling cloud of purple smoke that clung to their wedding garments and hair. The sweet odor calmed her mind and settled the children who were ready to gallop through the temple to reach their father.

Sydette hugged her waist.

"You look beautiful Mama," Sydette said.

"Thank you Sweet Pea. You all look beautiful, too."

Yani touched Sydette's hair then caressed Joba's cheek.

"I wish they'd hurry up," Riki lamented, swinging Yani's hand.

"They have to take their time walking down the aisle, silly. Everything is being filmed for the country and it's a big deal. If they walked fast they'd miss all the pretty clothes and how good we all look," Sydette said.

Riki and Sydette spoke quietly and Yani honed in on Joba's silence. She had been chatty and playful earlier that morning when everyone rushed around bathing in sacred oils and herbs with the female priests overseeing their preparations. But once they'd eaten a full breakfast, dressed, and left the palace, she'd quieted down.

Yani knelt before her youngest child and clasped her hands.

"How are you feeling, Sunshine? Nervous?"

Joba nodded. Sydette wrapped big sister arms around her.

"You'll make Baba proud when you lead us out…okay? We practiced and practiced and you will make the path for Mama pretty. I will be right behind you," Sydette said.

Joba clutched her basket of flowers and nodded. She tilted her head to look at Yani.

"What if I drop the basket or walk too fast?" Joba said.

Relief spilled over Yani hearing her speak again.

"All you have to do is listen to the music. It's like the metronome in Umama's suite. The beat sets the pace. If you think you're walking too fast, check the music cues. You are going to be a wonderful flower girl."

Yani hugged her and Joba leaned into the embrace. She kissed Yani's cheek and all was well again.

"It's time Princess Joba."

The lead wedding director smiled at the little girl and held a hand out to guide her into position at the temple entrance. Riki ran forward and hugged Joba. He whispered something in her ear and his sister broke out into another bright smile.

"You got this," Riki said out loud.

The director glanced at Yani.

"Everyone is standing up…here we go," the director said.

Joba took a deep breath and marched in time to the harmonious music.

"I'm next! I'm next!" Sydette squealed, twirling in a circle holding the wedding rings and sacred red tie.

Sydette peeked around the wedding director.

"Oh Mama! Baba looks so handsome," Sydette said.

Yani's heart and stomach fluttered. The anticipation of seeing him engulfed all of her nerve endings. They all heard collective oohs and ahhs and a smattering of applause. She wondered what happened to make the congregation applaud. Luckily, she would be able to watch the entire ceremony at a later time. The ceremony was broadcast live and recorded from start to finish. Palace recorders filmed everything the moment they stepped foot outside the palace for candid shots to later be edited into a royal wedding documentary.

"Princess Sydette, you are next please."

The director held out a hand and waved it, summoning the girl. Sydette blew Yani a kiss and marched out like a diva.

"Here you go, Princess Yani."

Another wedding coordinator handed her a mic. Yani waited for her music cue to tap it on. The peaceful strumming of harps alerted her, and she sang out all that she felt to N'Jadaka. She wondered what his facial expression looked like hearing her voice singing that particular song. Riki squeezed her hand in support and for a moment, holding her son's hand and singing to his father brought back all the connections they had in St. Thomas. Emotion spilled through her voice as she conveyed to the king how much he meant to her.

As the voice of the Wakandan choral member sang the song in their language with a different musical arrangement that transformed into the Wakandan wedding march, Yani held tight to her bridal bouquet and let her son lead them into the temple.

Grateful to have her son's hand for support, Yani took in the hundreds of faces that watched her march toward her destiny. Her brain tried to connect with individual eyes upon her. That proved useless once she zeroed in on N'Jadaka waiting for her at the far end.

God…he was more than handsome.

She lost her footing for a second and Riki helped her find her steps again.

It all came down to this moment.

Yani drifted away into a time when she was a lost woman-child trying to make a way out of no way on a small island. How many nights had she prayed for a better life for herself and Sydette? Given up on herself? How many days had she cried and chastised herself for choosing love with Chez who treated her so poorly and abandoned Sweet Pea? Yani had felt so alone and lost to a pre-destined fate that befell too many young women with big hearts and limited resources or support. Thank God Auntie was there for her. Thank all the angels too that her auntie liked Killmonger so much that she didn't run interference keeping them apart. There were too many tangible things that should have prevented Yani from ever meeting the foreign mercenary.

But look at God.

Her eyes watered and she looked away to control her blurry vision. No tears fell and she was able to concentrate on her delicate steps to reach the king.

Riki halted their march and shouted for his father to get her. The audience laughed and Yani chuckled herself. His declaration was not a part of the ceremony. She lifted her bridal bouquet to her lips to hide her open-mouthed laughter when Riki sucked his teeth sounding like an annoyed Auntie back home.

Her laughter fell away once N'Jadaka came down the aisle to claim her at his son's demand. She heard a few gasps from women around her who also felt that energy coming toward her. He spoke forceful words of love instead of singing them to her. The switch up made the evocative words more powerful and she felt every utterance in her bones, marrow deep. When he finally reached her, she could barely see his face. Her eyes had become a river threatening to spill down her face.

"Will you walk with me Yani Galiber?" N'Jadaka asked.

His voice was full of pride and so much love for her. The scent of oils on his skin and the smudging on his clothes smelled heavenly. She lost the ability to speak taking all of his spirit in. Riki balled up a small fist and pressed it into her hip. Yani lifted his chin and stared into Riki's shiny eyes.

"Should we?" Yani asked her son.

Those little Udaku lips on his face swept up into a knowing smile and Riki nodded like she was foolish to even ask the question. She looked at her great love again.

"I will walk with you King N'Jadaka Udaku," she said.

"Say that one mo' 'gin!"

N'Jadaka had cupped his ear and she knew in her soul he did that purely to show off for the nobles who questioned her place in his life.

"I will walk with you forever King N'Jadaka Udaku…my Golden Jaguar."

"Aye!"

Yani gripped his arm and he held Riki's hand, escorting them all to the priest waiting for them. Her bridesmaids and bridesgroom were in various stages of watery eyes, crying, and beaming love to her. She handed her bouquet to Twyla and her cousin gushed over her with a weepy voice.

Facing N'Jadaka, Yani watched the priest give Sydette instructions. She handed the wedding rings to her brother and a footstool was placed in front of her so she could easily bind her mother and father together. Dinani spoke ancient words as Sydette tied the satin binding rope around N'Jadaka's wrist first. She left about two feet of rope in between them before she tied the other end on Yani's wrist. Her task complete, Sweet Pea kissed both their wrists and returned to stand next to Joba.

Yani listened to the Wakandan words spoken by the priest, but her eyes stayed on N'Jadaka's face the entire time. His soulful eyes drank in every inch of her. It seemed like they were the only two there, but with the guests, plus the entire Udaku clan in attendance, over one thousand people witnessed their union and she blotted them all out.

Dinani spoke of their expected duties toward one another. Her ears glossed over all of those expectations and only tuned back in when the long ceremony moved into the portion where she was told the qualities of a virtuous queen.

Holy scripture was read by Ayiz'e who wore the sacred red robes of the mountain temple of Bast. A male priest presented Dinani with more sacred oils and they anointed Yani and N'Jadaka. The qualities of a virtuous king were recited to N'Jadaka. An older female priest blessed their children who stood there, and also blessed the children they would have in the future.

Umama stepped forward from her place on the dais holding Yani's queen isicholo. Dinani prayed over the crown and anointed it with holy Bast oils before N'Jadaka pulled back the hood on Yani's wedding dress revealing her platinum hair. Umama's voice was loud and strong.

"We of the Udaku clan accept Yani Galiber into this holy union. She is our welcomed daughter…our new queen…Queen Yani N'Isiqithi the First."

The women of the entire Udaku clan broke out into heartfelt ululations that echoed throughout the temple. Yani bowed her head slightly and Umama placed the queen's isicholo on her head.

"Stay blessed Queen Yani, may your reign make us all proud and may your greatest grandmother Queen Mary guide your hand in all that you do," Umama said.

Yani stood still and accepted the ululations, the shouts, the applause, the jealousy, the envy, the hatred, the admiration, the love, the curiosity, and the fear her queendom brought to Wakanda. She straightened her posture and let the weight of the crown sink into soul.

Queen Yani.

Heavy was the head that wore the crown, but not so much with N'Jadaka by her side. He held her hand up and they turned around to face the congregation. Dinani raised their arms and spoke with a firm tone in their voice.

"May I present to you all here, the royal heads of the nation, King N'Jadaka and Queen Yani Udaku, avatars of the Golden Jaguar…children of the Black Pather Tribe."

Everyone in the temple stood, including the relatives on the dais. The Council of Elders came forth from the audience and circled Yani and N'Jadaka. They held hands and recited an oath promising them both wise council in the days ahead. Stepping aside afterward, Yani and her new husband were able to acknowledge the crowd amidst their applause.

"You may now kiss your bride, kumkani," Dinani said.

N'Jadaka's lips were on hers before the priest finished giving permission, almost knocking her crown off. He kissed her within an inch of her life and backed away when she almost went limp.

"Hey queen," he said.

"Hey king," she answered.

Yani checked on their children and all three had glossy eyes admiring her new isicholo. N'Jadaka threaded his fingers with hers and boldly showed her off. To close the ceremony, they had to circle the inside of the temple as newlyweds counterclockwise. The isicholo settled nicely on her head, and Yani willfully entered her new era as ruler. She relaxed into N'Jadaka's strides and pranced about, letting her beauty and new status burn her enemies down to charcoal.

N'Jadaka kept stopping to kiss her hand and the red satin binding tie dangled between them letting everyone know they would never part. She reveled in the power, soaked it up and let it propel her around the temple with a fierce protective energy.

Back at the front again, N'Jadaka kissed her chasrely, with pecks to her lips and both cheeks. She bent down to hug and kiss their children just as the closing wedding march started. Dinani gave their final blessing and the Udaku family drummers showed out again, leading the march out of the temple. Didah sang a new griot song prophesying the reign of Yani and N'Jadaka.

"Ready to face the rest of the world?" N'Jadaka asked.

"I am," Yani said.

They held hands tight and strolled down the aisle together, exiting the ancient temple as husband and wife.

Chapter 6 HERE.

* Lyrics to Jada Kingdom's "Wull On"

** Poem by Black American poet Paul Laurence Dunbar (1872-1906), "An Invitation to Love"

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starcatcher-gvf · 4 months

Text

Back and Forth - Chapter 1

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Danny Wagner

Word Count: 2.2k

Hello, everyone! This is my very first attempt at writing with a set plot, so please forgive any grammar mistakes. This is only the first chapter, so more will come eventually! Also, this will become more smut-filled, so MINORS DNI. I hope you enjoy :)

Warnings: Language, smoking, eventual smut (stay tuned!!), frottage if you squint, making out

______________________________________________________________

Finally, Jake could be alone. He briskly walked into his green room and slumped against the door just as it closed. He tipped his head back, closed his eyes, and sighed in relief. Finally.

After a hectic day of rehearsing for this next show in a city Jake can barely remember from exhaustion, his only thought was laser focused on his jacket pocket containing, not one, but two cigars. He needed to smoke the edge off. God, he needed at least one drag to get him through.

On a typical day before a show, Josh, Jake, Danny, and Sam would arrive at the venue sometime around noon, rehearse and jam for a couple hours, grab some food (or libations), and meet back at the venue for wardrobe, makeup, and sound check. But this day was completely thrown out of whack. Their regular sound techs they’ve been touring with got a flat tire on their bus, leaving them and half their equipment two states away, so now they have to compensate this loss of crew by making the crew they do have work twice as much to set everything up. This means all the boys had to arrive closer to 9am to work out the kinks in the sound systems with their instruments. And after the previous night of drinking too much and sleeping too little, Jake was feeling the effects of his bad habits catch up to him.

They just got off the stage after about 5 hours of sound check. Josh looked like he was close to tears and had to walk outside some to get some fresh air. Sam’s tousled hair looked way more tousled than usual due to his stressful tic of running his hands through it. Danny…where did Danny go? Jake wasn’t sure, even though he was sitting next to him on B-stage. But it didn’t matter now. All that matters is that Jake could now be alone with his thoughts…and his cigars.

He picked up smoking them before a show a couple years back when a venue in Europe brought them into his dressing room on a platter like hors d'oeuvres. Jet lag and that same creeping feeling of stress haunted him like it did now, and he lit that pretty little cigar and felt his brain fog melt away with every exhale of that thick smoke. And now he craved them before almost every show.

Lucky for him, this room had a window he could crack. He didn’t necessarily want to hotbox this room and set the sprinklers off just before makeup. He walked across the tiny room and lifted the window, but it would only crack a couple of inches. That should be enough, Jake thought.

The loud screech of a chair resounded in the room as Jake dragged one across the floor near the window. He sat down hurriedly, pulled out one of his precious cigars, and fished for his lighter in the opposite pocket.

Then there came a knock at the door. Jesus fucking Christ.

“Yeah?” Jake called to the unknown person outside his door.

“Jake?” The unmistakable voice of the band’s drummer rang out in response. Thank God, Jake thought with a breath of relief. I still have some time.

“What’s up, Danny?”

“Can I come in right quick?” It wasn’t unusual for Danny to hang out with Jake, and only Jake. Being the quietest in the band, Jake and Danny formed an unspoken relationship: if any one of the two needed to escape the hustle of band life for a few minutes, the other could be there to ensure some peace and quiet.

“Of course. Just close the door back,” Jake replied.

Danny’s tall form was now visible in the doorway. Jake noticed he was wearing one of those tight-fitting T-shirts he wore so much, this time in black, and he wore a pair of dark blue jeans with a pretty worn out pair of black Converse. Jake smiled to himself noticing this. He’s had those since, what, 2017? He seriously needs some new shoes.

The door closed back, and Danny put his hands in his jean pockets and huffed a sigh. “That sound check was NEVER gonna end, I fucking swear.”

“I know, right? If Josh’s microphone cut out one more time, I was gonna actually throw it across the stage.” Jake’s temper had gotten to the point where he was contemplating slamming his guitar down and taking a couple laps around the venue just to escape the large but foreboding arena.

Danny’s eyes traveled down to Jake’s hands, one holding the lighter in a loose grasp, the other twiddling his cigar between his middle and ring fingers. “Lighting up, are we?” Danny inquired in a playful tone.

Jake’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, as if he had forgotten what he was doing for the past five minutes. “Oh, yeah. My mind is everywhere right now, and having the occasional cigar kinda…I don’t know, ‘mellow’ isn’t the right word.”

“No, I get it,” Danny said nonchalantly. “When we first started touring, and I mean the big big tours, I would have Sam roll me a joint before we even got dressed to go to the venue, and we’d toke up at his house right before getting an Uber.”

Of course Sam got him on that one. As far as Jake was concerned, weed made him feel too loose and carefree during a show. Jake preferred the slight buzz of nicotine mingling with the already-strong vibrations surrounding him on stage, along with a couple drinks to pair it with.

“Did you want one? I packed an extra in case I needed a bit more, y’know?” Jake reached again in his pocket and pulled out an identical cigar, reaching towards Danny to take it.

“You don’t mind? I’ve been jittery to get something all day.” Jake could tell before Danny even said so. His prominent fidgets have been manifesting themselves all day, just like Sam’s: legs bouncing, wiping his hands on his jean legs, staring off into the void.

“Yeah, man. Go ahead.”

Danny took the cigar from Jake’s hand and felt his back pocket for a lighter, but his face scrunched in confusion. “Can you light me up right quick? Don’t have my lighter on me.”

Jake, already lighting his cigar and letting a small stream of blue smoke escape the tip, looked toward Danny. “Yeah.” He leaned over slightly in his chair to reach Danny’s tall figure with the lighter.

Instead of taking it, Danny just held the tip of his cigar to Jake. Embarrassed, Jake fumbled to rearrange the lighter to where he could flick it to life. After a couple tries, it caught, and the cigar came to life with smoke, but it didn’t burn like normal. Way too fast. Dammit, it’s stale.

How did he not realize this before bringing it? He would have felt how hard the cigar was in his hand before stuffing it in his pocket, would have felt the leaves of tobacco through the paper. He must have been in such a hurried state as to not notice, and he felt horrible for giving Danny the unsmokable one. “Shit, sorry, man. Don’t smoke that shit, it’ll give you a headache.”

“It’s okay, I could just share yours,” Danny suggested.

Jake stared up at Danny, mouth slightly parted in surprise at his suggestion. Sure, they’ve been close for years now but never that close. Both parties were too shy to suggest this so upfront, but it seems Danny’s need for some type of high broke that barrier. Jake swallowed the spit pooling in his mouth and handed him the cigar, offering Danny the first smoke.

Danny didn’t look away as he took it, didn’t even notice the ash from the tip fall onto one of Jake’s boots. He leaned against the window pane and looked out onto the cityscape and blew out blue smoke into the crack in the window. Then he coughed.

“Damn, Jake! What’s in this?”

“It’s just a Cuban blend. Give it here, you’re gonna let it burn all up!” Jake snickered as Danny basically hacked up a lung trying to recover. He leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on the sill. Inhale, exhale. Simple as that. Jake could already feel the nicotine-induced wave of relaxation cover him like a thick wool blanket. The sky outside was already growing steadily dimmer as showtime came closer. Jake checked his phone screen, reading the time 6:27pm.

“Think we can finish this thing in thirty minutes? Makeup should be coming around sometime then.”

“Sure. If you’d pass it.” Danny reached over to snatch the cigar back, eager to give it another go.

“Uh uh, this is mine. I get to decide when you get another hit.” Jake reached his arm back as far as he could, just out of Danny’s reach from their standing-and-sitting positions. Danny’s face soured, and he went back to staring at the numerous skyscrapers and people walking by the building. Jake inhaled and exhaled again, letting the smoke drift in the room instead of blowing it out the window. Feeling generous, he gave Danny the cigar back.

Danny let out a triumphant “hmph” and inhaled. Though his face was slightly strained, he kept the smoke in his lungs for a few seconds and blew it out without a hitch.

Into Jake’s face.

Jake, caught off guard, just stared into his face again. His face felt hot but he wasn’t exactly sure why. He didn’t feel mad, nor did he feel embarrassed. There was something so…domineering about Danny at this moment. Him being able to be overtaken and put in his place so easily…it felt different. What’s going on?

Danny picked up on this shift in…whatever was happening. He cleared his throat and handed the cigar back to him while looking at his feet. “I should probably get back to-”

Jake stood up and stepped as close to Danny as he could without him colliding into his chest. Their faces were inches apart. Jake took a long, agonizing drag, one that hurt his lungs worse than the first time he ever smoked, and let the smoke fall out of his mouth. It lingered on Danny’s face a while before Jake’s mouth connected with Danny’s.

Danny stilled as Jake closed the distance off, but he eventually melted into the way Jake’s lips felt on his. Cracked, but not painful. Jake snaked his arms around Danny’s torso and lingering on his upper back, pulling him down closer to his level. Danny leaned down slightly and cupped Jake’s face with one hand while placing his other hand at his waist.

Jake’s mouth parted slightly, letting the remaining smoke in Danny’s mouth. Danny’s mouth tasted somehow like comfort: a faint tinge of mint mixed with cigar smoke and pure, unadulterated Danny. Jake felt like he could get a buzz just on the way Danny felt and tasted in his mouth. Their tongues mingled and tasted each other as Danny pushed Jake farther back until Jake’s back hit the wall.Danny placed the hand holding his waist against the wall behind Jake and pulled Jake’s head down by the hair with his other hand. A defeated whimper erupted from his throat as Danny started peppering sloppy kisses along his neck and behind his ear.

Danny wasn’t too sure what was happening but was letting his inhibitions fall away and giving into his primal desires. He noticed, as Jake was pressed against the wall, one of his hands pressed against Danny’s chest still had the cigar grasped between his fingers. At least Jake was still coherent enough to not let the burning end brand Danny’s chest like he was a steer. He plucked Jake’s cigar from his hand and inhaled the smoke while looking directly into Jake’s lust-blown eyes.

Danny placed both hands on the wall, trapping Jake as Danny met him with another kiss, this one full of smoke. Jake placed his hands on the waistband of Danny’s jeans and pulled his abdomen closer by his belt loops. Jake felt pressure on the front of his pants and moaned quietly into Danny’s mouth, a sweet sanguine sound of pure desire, lust, passion.

Danny pulled away abruptly. Jake opened his eyes and looked at the man opposite him with confusion and worry. What did I do? Is he okay?

“What the fuck are we doing, dude?” Danny completely disconnected himself from Jake, leaving him against the wall to contemplate everything that had led to this moment. Danny chuckled under his breath and itched his neck: another nervous tick that Jake knew very well. A sign that Danny wasn’t sure what to do next.

Jake swallowed and put his hands in his pockets while giving no attention to his hardness making itself known against his jeans. “We should probably get ready for makeup now, it’s about time.”

“Yeah, okay, sure,” Danny replied hurriedly. He made his way to the door again but stopped. “Hey, Jake?”

“Yeah?” Jake’s heart skipped for a second before Danny turned and held out the mostly-burnt cigar back to Jake.

“Forgot to give this back.” Danny then turned back to the door and walked out. He let it close softly.

Jake’s mind was ceaselessly reeling and turning, trying to figure out what exactly compelled him to start that. But as he smoked the last of his cigar, he smiled. Before Danny walked out, he noticed a matching hardness against Danny’s jeans.

#greta van fleet #gvf #jake kiszka #danny wagner #jake gvf #danny gvf #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fan fic #fanfic #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #josh gvf #sam gvf #greta van fic #greta van smut

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thebarontheabyss · 8 months

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🌟✨ Chapter 2 Completed - The Bar on the Abyss Opens its Doors! ✨🌟

Hello Spectral Patrons!

Get ready to raise your glasses high because the first night of our otherworldly bar is now fully crafted in Chapter 2 of "The Bar on the Abyss"

Here's what's inside:

✨ Spirits Shenanigans: The tavern is (un)alive with the clinking of glasses and the whispers of spirits from realms untold. Prepare for an evening filled with choices galore!

💖 Romance the Unknown: The official unveiling of all main romances - where attraction transcends the mortal coil. Will you find love in the embrace of Death? Start an infernal affair with a Devil Prince? Or maybe romance a living witch, one whose very presence at the bar could spell more than a few troubles?

📖 Unfold Their Stories: Begin to unravel the mysterious backstories of your devoted staff - and help them resolve issues during the long shift!

📈 Epic Expansion: The story is now a grand 60,000 words! Explore every corner, every conversation, and every hidden shadow in the depths of the bar.

🐛 Tons of Bug fixes

I can't wait for you to dive into this new chapter! So grab your favorite libation, and let's toast to the night - it's just getting started!

#choice of games #choicescript #dating sim #hosted games #hosted game #cog #interactive fiction #fiction #interactive novel #wip #romance #wip update #thebarontheabyss #if wip #if game #if update #choices

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swampstew · 5 months

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KillerCook Chapter 11

Welcome to Raven’s Reading Nook - a small corner of this blog dedicated to cozy story times. Join us in the family room as we sit around and browse our phones, and eat some Girl Scout cookies as we begin tonight’s story. Rated Mature for language. Minors DNI

*Phone app notification goes ping*

TikTok – KillerCook has uploaded a new video. Check it out!

Title: HACKED Description: This ain’t your regularly scheduled programming punks!5 minute video. The thumbnail is a shadowed figure with a menacing looking ‘X’ mark over the body.

*Press Play?*

The video began with what appeared to be a hostage situation.

KillerCook was tied to a chair with rope and chains, a blindfold over his helmet and duct tape adhered to most of his face holes.

“Uhh, this isn’t what it looks like,” Killer was able to voice out from behind the bondage.

“No, it’s exactly what it looks like,” barked Kid as he stepped into the frame. “This effin idiot was gonna make content on HIS birthday. Not in my house. Today is technically Killer’s birthday but we’re kidnapping – shut the hell up – him so he can actually let his hair down for once in his life.”

Heat stepped into the frame on Killer’s opposite side, “Originally, we were gonna take over the channel and cook for him. BUT, Kid had a light-bulb moment and we developed a scheme to treat the birthday man. You all will be seeing this next week, but rest assured, we’ve got it covered. Wish Killer a happy birthday in the comments and he’ll read them all when we come back!”

Wire came from behind the camera shaking a can of whipped cream, stepping menacingly towards Killer. Aiming the nozzle into one of the helmet holes, he pressed down on the can until Killer began thrashing, white whipped cream oozed from behind the taped holes. “THIS IS FOR THROWING FOOD AT ME ALL YEAR!”

The video transitioned to a blue and white screen with a traditional birthday melody laid over it.

A slideshow of videos and still-shot frames from Killer’s birthday kidnapping started playing.

Killer’s hostage-wear stayed on as the crew drove to the marina, where a punk-looking yacht was moored. The bow of the ship was adorned with a skeletal body, and there were blue and red flames painted to the sides of the hull. Black cursive spelled out the beauty’s name – Victoria Punk.

“The bag over the helmet is really pointless, I know where we are,” Killer’s muffled complaint went ignored as he was marched up the boarding plank.

About 30 pictures went by with various crew members and friends posing with hostage Killer; one photo had him wearing a beer helmet over the bag over his helmet, the straws tucked underneath all the materials to give Killer some libation.

Finally liberated, Killer – dressed down into swim trunks and his helmet – took a running leap off the yacht to cannonball into the sea. As he resurfaced, the rest of the crew cannonballed after him, created a wave of water to shower down on him and the camera, which promptly died.

_______________________

Kid’s pissed-off scowl came into focus as he adjusted the new camera perspective, “{Redacted} idiots killed my phone instead of using the {redacted} GoPro.”

The next clip showed Killer relaxing with a beer bottle in hand, laying against a giant pizza slice pool float as people drifted by him, playing in the water. All was calm until Quincy, Bubblegum, and Heat swam underneath the float and flipped it over. When Killer broke the surface, the laughter tripled as his hair was plastered all over his helmet and chest, but his beer-bottle was still in one of the face holes.

“There’s sea water in my beer,” he said flatly.

A new clip had a heavy metal anthem roaring in the background as the yacht was sailing at high speed on the open ocean. Killer was standing on the bow, holding a Scottish flag, and thrashing his hair to the music.

More photos of the crew and Killer celebrating his birthday with drinking games, strength competitions, and gorging on fresh seafood flooded the TikTok video. Amongst the main crew and personal friends, there were also members of the Straw Hat crew, and even some ‘frenemy’ rivals that had been spoken of but not ever invited on to the KillerCook channel before. By the time the lighting in the photos grew darker, Killer’s helmet had been exchanged for a face mask and his cerulean eyes were noticeably glossy.

“Hap-hic-happy birthday, Kill, -hic- the best-{redacted}-friend a punk could-hic ask for,” slurred Kid as he gripped Killer’s shoulder. Both men swayed as a cake was brought out to the main deck. Sunset had long passed, the yacht was brightly lit up with swarms of bulbs on strings that hung tastefully along the walls and railings.

Everyone began to sing the birthday song and Killer might have shed a tear, shoving a palm roughly to his face.

“{Redacted}-A, I don’t even know what to say,” Killer drawled out. “All I was going to do was make a small cake and smoke my pipe. You {redacted} are so good to me. Well, not all of you, but I like most of yah. Some I don’t know how you got invited, seriously. But I’m glad you’re here celebrating anyways. I don’t have a wish to make, truly. I’ve got everything, everyone. So thanks. Alright I’m not going to get mushy on all you freeloaders!” Killer ripped off his face mask.

With deep-purple stained lips, Killer’s gorgeous smile shined brightly as he took a gulp of air and blew out the sparkler-flame candles. The party participants roared in celebration at the same time an airhorn started blowing off-screen.

The camera quickly panned to the culprit of the sound. A modest sized cruise ship with a flag waving proudly on the masts pulled up portside. On the side of the hull it’s name was proudly presented: The Baratie. The camera’s change in perspective did not allow for viewers to see who let out the strangled, high-pitched scream of excitement.

Sanji was clutching Killer’s soldiers and babbling incoherently before jumping into the water, swimming towards the restaurant ship.

Hands covering his face, Killer sobbed out, “I’m so fucking happy!! LET’S EAT!!!!”

Read on Wattpad | Read on AO3

#killercook #massacre soldier killer #eustass kid #raven's reading nook #firstmatesimp #kid pirates #heat one piece #wire one piece #op kid pirates #kid pirate nakama #killer one piece #eustass captain kid #tiktok #modern AU #eustasscaptainkid #ao3 writer #wattpad author #swampstew #swampstew stories

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lullabyes22-blog · 4 months

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Forward but Never Forget - Nothing Divine

And, in the aftermath, you'd kneel before him. Swallowing his salty libation, you'd taste not a single drop of the divine. Only the bitter dregs of Zaun. And beneath it, the lingering smoke of revolution.

Anyway. Things do not go well for our intrepid reporter...

:')

Once this chapter nears in FnF, I may also publish it as a one-shot - with a smut scene included - for folks who enjoy the Silco x Reader dynamic.

#arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane silco #silco #forward but never forget/xoxo #forward (never forget)/xoxo #silco x reader

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broomsick · 10 months

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A few elements of interest concerning the temple at Uppsala

Yngvi-Freyr constructs the Temple at Uppsala (1830) by Hugo Hamilton

Chapter 26: “Now we shall say a few words about the superstitions of the Swedes. That folk has a very famous temple [134] called Uppsala, situated not far from the city of Sigtuna and Björkö. In this temple, [135] entirely decked out in gold, the people worship the statues of three gods in such wise that the mightiest of them, Thor, occupies a throne in the middle of the chamber; Wotan [Odin] and Frikko [Freyr] have places on either side. The significance of these gods is as follows: Thor, they say, presides over the air, which governs the thunder and lightning, the winds and rains, fair weather and crops. The other, Wotan -that is, the Furious–carries on war and imparts to man strength against his enemies. The third is Frikko, who bestows peace and pleasure on mortals. His likeness, too, they fashion with an immense phallus. But Wotan they chisel armed, as our people are wont to represent Mars. Thor with his scepter apparently resembles Jove. The people also worship heroes made gods, whom they endow with immortality because of their remarkable exploits, as one reads in the Vita of Saint Ansgar they did in the case of King Eric.”

Scholium note 134: “Near this temple stands a very large tree with wide-spreading branches, always green winter and summer. What kind it is nobody knows.”

Scholium note 135: “A golden chain goes round the temple. It hangs over the gable of the building and sends its glitter far off to those who approach, because the shrine stands on level ground with mountains all about it like a theater.”

Chapter 27: “For all their gods there are appointed priests to offer sacrifices for the people. If plague and famine threaten, a libation is poured to the idol Thor; if war, to Wotan; if marriages are to be celebrated, to Frikko. It is customary also to solemnize in Uppsala, at nine-year intervals, a general feast of all the provinces of Sweden. From attendance at this festival no one is exempted Kings and people all and singly send their gifts to Uppsala and, what is more distressing than any kind of punishment, those who have already adopted Christianity redeem themselves through these ceremonies.”

Selected excerpts from Adam of Bremen’s late 11th century work Gesta Hammaburgensis ecclesiae pontificum (“Deeds of the Bishops of Hamburg”)

#heathenry #history #norse paganism #norse gods #paganism #deities #spirituality #deity work #polytheism

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chickycherrycola · 6 months

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(no place like) home for the holidays

Its Christmas Eve! Which means its FINALLY TIME for me to unveil the very special project I've been working on! I got a Christmas-y, holiday-themed idea in my head several weeks ago that started out as a few loosely connected scenes, and eventually spiraled into a whole-ass novel 😅 and today I am so pleased to present my most recent labor of love to the Soul Eater fandom: (no place like) home for the holidays. Its centered around Soul and Maka visiting Soul's family for the holidays, and its fluffy, its sappy, its pine-scented, and its so so mushy. I really hope that if you read it, that you enjoy 💝🎄

As always, I gotta give a special shout-out to @moriohpissky for all of her assistance bringing this fic to life. Thank you Leah for the beta read, the idea bouncing, and the assistance with the lovely moodboard! 💕

I'll be posting a chapter a day until the end of the year, starting with Chapter 1 today!

Rating: T

Summary: After a bit of convincing from his overzealous but well-meaning older brother, Soul returns to his hometown in upstate New York for Christmas with his meister in tow. It's been more than ten years since he's been home, and along the way, he'll have to contend with more than just a long-buried past - travel delays, shitty motel rooms with less-than-ideal sleeping arrangements, Wes's horrible ugly sweaters, and, perhaps most daunting of all... his feelings for Maka.

Preview of Chapter 1 under the cut, or read the whole chapter on Ao3!

Ch 1: All I Want For Christmas Is You

His phone rings just as he’s realizing he might be the slightest bit inebriated.

Incoming Call…

Wes

The only reason Soul picks up the phone is because he's on his fourth cup of eggnog - or is it his fifth? Truthfully, he's lost count at this point - and he'd woefully underestimated the potency of one sixteen-ounce pour of eggnog, let alone four or five of them.

(A rookie mistake, honestly, given that this year's Christmas party libations had been supplied by Black Star.)

Before he can think twice about it, he's swiping the green answer button and pressing his phone to the side of his face.

"'Sup?"

It's perhaps a bit too casual a greeting, considering he hasn't spoken to his brother in… months, now.

"Well, color me surprised," Wes chirps through the speaker, and Soul can't help how he cringes in response. "Is that you, little bro, or do my ears deceive me? I suppose I’ve simply forgotten what your voice sounds like, after all this time."

"…Should've sent you straight to voicemail."

"Oh, yes, voicemail, I love leaving those,” Wes hums thoughtfully. “Do you know, I’ve even taken to writing out my messages before I call you. Pity, I was quite excited about this one.”

Soul removes the phone from the side of his face and holds the top of it against his forehead as he draws in a long, slow breath, in part to dredge up his quickly dwindling patience, and in part in an effort to stop the room as it perilously spins around him.

Goddamn eggnog. Goddamn his brother.

When he holds the phone back up to his ear, he asks, as evenly as he can:

"What do you want, Wes?"

“I should think it's fairly obvious,” comes his brother’s reply. “I want to talk to you, Soul. If the fact that I continue to call you once per week despite your insistence on not answering doesn’t make that clear enough.”

"Alright," Soul leans backward against the kitchen counter and crosses one leg over the other. "So talk. Here I am."

Against all better judgment, he brings the red solo cup back to his lips and takes a hearty sip from the spiked eggnog sloshing around inside.

If he must converse with his older brother, maintaining his current level of intoxication will at least make it a tolerable experience.

“Jesus, Soul,” Wes laughs. “Don’t make it sound like talking to me is a death sentence, I just want to chat. What’s new, how’s life, how’s the… what is your title again? Death Knife?”

“Death Scythe.”

“Right! Silly me. How’s the Death Scythe thing going? No ulterior motives, I swear.”

Soul narrows his eyes in suspicion.

“I didn’t ask if you had any ulterior motives.”

Read the rest on Ao3!

#soul eater #soul eater fanfiction #soul x maka #soul eater evans #maka albarn #christmas fic #cherry writes #an evans family christmas

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maple-seed · 1 year

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Thrown - Chapter 27: Resolve

Summary: The new year is celebrated with unfamiliar traditions.

Word Count: 1,711

Warnings: Mild alcohol consumption

Author's Note: And we're back! I hope everyone is doing well and I hope the new year brings you everything you need.

Masterlist

Loki understood the humans' division of years. It was reasonable; the span of time in which their planet revolves around their sun with a predictable, repetitive cycle of seasons. The part that perplexed him was the day they designated as the beginning of that cycle. It wasn't the beginning of a season, it had no astronomical significance, it seemed to be a completely arbitrary day in their journey through space. He suspected it started with someone looking for another excuse to celebrate during this absolutely dismal season and the rest of them just went with it. He admitted it was difficult to argue against.

The human town apparently made a spectacle of the event every year. It was said that most of the population came out for the fireworks and revelry and, from what he heard, much of New Asgard seemed to be planning on joining in. He and Thor were not the exception; Valkyrie had picked them up in her beaten blue truck and they were currently en route to meet you at the celebration. There would be libations to consume but the Midgard drinks were unlikely to have much effect on the gods. It was unfortunate that there weren't any Æsir spirits available yet. He could use a drink. Supposedly Asbjorn and his sons were making great strides in brewing something akin to Asgardian liquor, but there wasn't yet enough volume for general consumption.

"So, you guys planning on kissing anyone tonight?" Valkyrie kept her eyes on the street as they passed through New Asgard, only glancing at the brothers. Thor and Loki turned to her with blank stares. "You haven't heard? It's a tradition. They kiss someone at midnight. It's supposed to be good luck." She shrugged. "I thought it was cute." Thor chuckled. "Indeed. I can't say I have any intention of participating."

Loki said nothing, but naturally his mind immediately turned to you. As he watched the scenery out the window he allowed himself the indulgence of imagining kissing you, his hands cupping your face and pulling you close. He wondered how you might respond. The fantasy was quickly broken by a dread reality. Were you going to kiss someone tonight? He couldn't be sure if there was someone you had your eye on. In all the long conversations the two of you had shared, romance rarely came up. It seemed to be the sort of thing you kept to yourself. Was there someone you would bestow your affections on? Would he have to see it? He thought back to the man behind the counter at the cafe and glowered. He wasn't prepared for that sight. However, it was too late to back out of the event without drawing questions he didn't want to answer. He could really use a drink.

The town was filled with people strolling through the streets, generally moving in the same direction. It became apparent that the truck wouldn't get much further than this, so Valkyrie parked and the gods stepped out into the throng. The crowd was flowing toward the edge of town and up a slight hill near the harbor. The buildings opened into a wide, paved promenade. One side of the promenade was lined with shops, and the other looked out to the ocean, where a barge could be seen anchored in the distance. All the snow had been cleared away from the pavement and people were gathering here for the fireworks show, which would presumably be administered by the barge. Some groups had spread out blankets while others had folding chairs. Children were running about, Asgardians and humans were mingling freely. Picnic dinners were being enjoyed and a few food stalls were set up here and there.

"Boys! Val!" The three gods turned to see you approaching, Ash at your side. You were carrying a plastic champagne flute, which was currently empty. Judging by the flush of your face and the slightest hint of stagger in your step, Loki would guess this wasn't the first time you had emptied it. "You made it!" You reached the group and grabbed Thor's hand --Loki easily buried the slight sting of envy-- and began pulling him through the crowd. "We're set up over here." Thor chuckled. "I see you've already begun the festivities." He gestured toward your glass. "Gotta hit my quota before the year's over." You shot him a wink.

You led them through the promenade to a cluster of chairs beside a blanket. Khadija was sitting in one of the chairs, next to a man who Loki assumed to be her husband. He was shortly proven correct as you introduced them. Thor asked after Hani and was informed that she was flitting about with some of the other children. There was no sign of the man from the cafe, or any other potential suitors of yours, at least for now. Loki relaxed a fraction but still prepared contingencies should some romantic prospect make an appearance.

You were holding your glass out to Khadija, who filled it without question. "Are you certain you haven't had enough?" Loki asked with a smirk. You waved him off without a word and brought the glass to your lips. "Let the woman drink." Valkyrie was sitting on the blanket, Ash halfway sprawled into her lap. "I don't know how she's put up with you all this time while sober." "Who says I've been dealing with him sober?" You practically fell into one of the chairs. "Oh, it's very clear that you have been sober." Loki took a seat next to you. "The counterexample currently on display is evidence enough." You scoffed. "I guess you've finally driven me to drinking." You punctuated your point with another sip from the glass.

Food and drink was passed around and cheerful conversation passed the time. Members of the group would leave to greet other friends or acquaintances, or to patronize one of the food stalls, returning again to the little cluster of chairs eventually. Thor was elsewhere when Hani made an appearance, with a young Æsir girl in tow.

Hani stopped in her tracks when she spotted Loki. "Mr. Loki!" She pulled the Æsir girl over to him. "Can you show her your fireworks?" The Asgardian girl looked at him slightly apprehensively, she was clearly aware of his reputation. It stung a little, seeing it here, in contrast to Hani's open friendliness. He held out his hand, palm up, and manifested miniature fireworks above it. Hani clapped with glee. The Æsir girl had a small smile and spoke quietly. "My mother could use seiðr. She said she was going to teach me someday." Loki noted the past tense. "Then we must find you a teacher, as she intended." Her smile grew. Hani was ecstatic. "You'll learn magic!?" In a burst of giggles the two girls bounced away again.

Loki looked over at you. You were watching him with a strange look on your face. It was something akin to admiration. He would bask in it all day if given the chance. He was only given a moment more, Valkyrie asked something and stole your attention away.

Darkness had fallen and Loki was watching the steady waves when he felt a tug at his sleeve. He looked up to find you standing beside him. "Come on, I want to go for a walk."

He stood and offered you his arm which you took without hesitation. Ash remained with Valkyrie as you traipsed away with Loki. You leaned into him, in fact you were practically hanging off of him as the two of you strolled through the crowds. It was delightful. If you had a particular destination in mind, you didn't make it known. You seemed content to simply walk and chat with him in your normal way. Occasionally you would stop him to watch one of the games being played beneath the streetlights. One was spread out across the ground, it seemed to involve tossing wooden batons at wooden blocks on your opponent's side of the pitch. You cheered with the other onlookers when one was knocked over. You paused at another game at a table, two men hunched over a board with little figures on it.

"Oh, hey, look at this one." You said as you stopped to watch a move. "It's a game of strategy. You'd probably be good at it." He watched as the man took one of his opponent's pieces off the board. "Yes, I'm certain I would." You scoffed. "You are always so full of yourself." "Darling, I was merely agreeing with you." You rolled your eyes.

The two of you continued on, meandering around the promenade, gradually working your way back to the cluster of chairs when you expressed your need for more finger food. As the night wore on Loki began to relax. You didn't seem to have any intention of leaving his side and no admirers had made an appearance. He felt a small pang of guilt for the relief that brought him. You deserved to be courted. You deserved that happiness. He shouldn't wish otherwise just to protect his own petty feelings. He found slightly less joy in the fact that you weren't sticking close to some beau in anticipation of midnight. But perhaps you simply didn't subscribe to the tradition.

The fireworks began. Bold, bright bursts of color broke open in the sky over the water. As the barge sent its artillery into the air, the image of kissing you returned to Loki's mind. He willed it away, buried it. It wouldn't do to dwell on something like that while you were close by. He stole a furtive glance at you, as if worried you had heard the thought. You were unaware, admiring the show.

Midnight approached. The crowd began counting down as the fireworks built to a finale. The new year rolled in with the booming of explosives and roar of applause. Loki was startled when you suddenly leaned over to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. You settled back into your chair and immediately broke into laughter, then joined the cheers of the crowd. Couples throughout the promenade were ringing in the new year with shows of affection.

It felt like good luck.

< Previous Chapter | Master List | Next Chapter >

Thrown Tag List If you would like to be added or removed from the tag list please leave a comment or send me a message/ask.

@mischief2sarawr, @imalovernotahater, @norestfortheshelbywicked, @purplekitten30, @ozymdias, @pdraxxi, @goblingirlsarah, @chantsdemarins, @n3rdybirdee, @marvel-love24, @lokiprompts, @ladymischief11, @gigglingtigger, @lilmilkbun, @huntress-artemiss, @ellooo0ooo, @femme1fatale

#loki #loki fanfiction #loki x reader #loki & thor #loki mcu #loki fanfic #mcu loki #slow burn #reader insert #loki thrown #btw Valkyrie definitely kissed Ash's head #I just couldn't include it without breaking the momentum

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voices-of-favor · 1 year

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Since we are on a lore roll, its time to say a little about the Malto nobles

Started by Eric El Ton Jon of the Voices, they are a movement of aspirants and mortal warriors from Malto, who fight together in specialist units to boost human-Astartes relations in the sector, supervised by the Voices of Favor

As it is for all space marine chapters, their aspirants have to go through a special set of trials, rites and medical procedures before they can be truly accepted by the Voices of Favor Unlike with most chapters however, their medical procedures are done earlier and in sets (for instance: phases one through five are usually done separately, but in the case of the aspiring Voices, they are all done simultaneously). Another unique thing of the Voices is that their neophytes skip the duties of a chapter scout (hence why the Voices have no neophyte scouts!). In between medical procedures, they either train or familiarize themselves with the chapters equipment and ways under the watchful eyes of the chapter techmarines and chaplains. Their trials truly conclude after receiving the Black carapace at the age of 16 (note: which is two years earlier than aspiring marines from most chapters). This occasion is celebrated with a “baptism” – the aspirants, who made it this far, share their first drink (note: the Voices drink wine and offer libations for every special occasion) with the senior members of the chapter. There, the aspirants receive their first power armor, a heavily modified collage of old armor models, and start their service within the order of the Malto nobles

As "nobles", they will fight alongside augmented mortal warriors of Malto for the next decade. At the end of this service, the Astartes receive the Mark X. power armor in the chapters colors, and are allowed to train for specialist roles (note: infiltrators, eliminators, hunter company, ...)

The majority of fighters of the Malto nobles movement are, as mentioned, mortal men and women of Malto, who were either too old to enter the trials to join the Voices, or could never fully ascend due to the biological limitations of the procedure. Still, the Voices offer these volunteers a selection of augmentations which they can accept (like the Black carapace), pretty much improving them to the level of a "firstborn" space marine (minus a handful of Astartes organs and immortality, of course). The Voices treat these "Noble marines" as their equals, offering many honorary positions within the chapter and the opportunity to wear the chapters colors instead of the heraldry of their noble houses

Aiza, the "Meteor", is one of such nobles - present here in her custom Lemonator terminator armor

#warhammer 40k #warhammer #warhammer 40000 #wh40k #40k #astartes #space marines #space marine #primaris #miniature painting #miniature #VoF #voices of favor #female space marines #imperium of man #lore

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shelbymlynnmonroe · 4 months

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A Modern Day Bonnie And Clyde {a Tig Trager X OC LoveStory} CHAPTER ONE

**********THIS LOOSELY FOLLOWS THE SERIES IN TERMS OF THE MAIN CHARACTERS DEATHS,NOBODY HAS DIED YET*********

Bellatrix Morrow commanded a reputation that preceded her, not merely because of her lineage as Clay Morrow's sole daughter or her role as Tig Trager's devoted partner, but rather due to her own formidable nature. Possessing a fierce and unhinged disposition akin to both her boyfriend and her adopted brother Happy, Bellatrix was a force to be reckoned with. Despite the notable age difference between herself and Tig, their bond was unbreakable, a testament to the deep and unyielding connection they shared.

In the depths of their hearts, Bellatrix and Tig found a love that bloomed swiftly and fiercely, yet they chose to shield it from the prying eyes of their motorcycle club brethren. Their clandestine affair, born of passion and forbidden desire, remained hidden until the fateful moment when Clay, Bellatrix's father and a prominent figure in the club, stumbled upon them in the throes of intimacy.

Despite the constant teasing and jokes that surrounded Bellatrix and Tig's relationship after its revelation, the club stood united in support of their bond when it truly mattered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bellatrix lounged upon a picnic table, the tendrils of cigarette smoke swirling around her as she observed her stepbrother and Chibs laboriously attempting to affix a hose to a recalcitrant radiator. With a nonchalant flick, she extinguished her cancer stick and embarked towards the Ford Explorer, the distinctive click of her platform Louboutins resonating with each purposeful step. As she approached, Bellatrix assertively hipchecked her brother aside, disdain etched upon her features. "Move, you imbecile," she chided, her tone laced with impatience, before deftly reaching into the engine bay to expertly connect the radiator to the engine.

Jax's eyes rolled in exasperation as Bellatrix stepped back from the car. "I'm not an imbecile, baby sister," he retorted, "but one might question your judgment, given your choice in significantly older men." His words were delivered with a hint of playful mockery.

Bellatrix's visage hardened into a mask of ice, her jet-black acrylics digging into her palms as she prepared to retort. Before she could utter a word, however, her "knight in shining armor" appeared, approaching her from behind. His large hand gently pressed against her throat, pulling her into his embrace as he placed a tender kiss upon her cheek. "Hey, Punkin'," he murmured, his affectionate nickname for her cutting through the tension like a soothing balm. She whirled around in Tig's embrace, pivoting to face him directly as she initiated a more intimate kiss. "Hey, Big Daddy," she greeted him warmly, her tone laced with a hint of playful teasing. "I didn't expect you back so soon. I figured Pops would have kept you out longer," she remarked, her words tinged with a sense of curiosity. As their lips parted, she leaned back slightly, her gaze locked with his. Tig's smile was warm as he idly toyed with a lock of Bellatrix's long, cherry cola-colored hair. "He wanted me to stay," he confessed, "But I told him I had to get back to your pretty lil' ass." His words filled with a tender affection.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hours later, the couple found themselves nestled in the comforting embrace of the clubhouse's common room, ensconced upon the plush sectional sofa. Meanwhile, Clay, Jax, and Opie were engrossed in the action unfolding on the massive 85-inch TV screen, which was broadcasting a live NFL game. As the game transitioned into a commercial break, Opie gracefully extricated himself from the opposite end of the sectional, intent on replenishing their libations. With a casual stride, he made his way towards the bar, his presence a stark contrast to the cozy tableau Bellatrix and Tig had created. "Could you two freaks not get all lovey and gross in the fuckin' common room?" he quipped good-naturedly, his words carrying a playful admonition. Tig shot Opie the middle finger, his other hand still gently stroking Trixie's hair. "Excuse me if my Ol'Lady laying on my lap offends you, shithead," he retorted, unapologetic in his response.

Opie rolled his eyes in response, making his way back to the sofa with a hint of exasperation. "It's not a matter of offense, Tigger," he remarked, his tone laced with a touch of amusement. "It's just... unsettling. I'm not accustomed to seeing you display such genuine affection. It's a bit of a departure from your usual sleazeball antics," he added, a playful jab at Tig's reputation.

Trixie looked up at Tig with a sleepy yet lustful gaze, pulling herself up to sit. "Take me to bed and fuck me to sleep, Tigger. Your lil' princess needs a good railing," she said, her tone brimming with sass and sarcasm.

***

The next morning, Bellatrix awoke to the gentle warmth of the California sun cascading over her heavily tattooed back. The electric blue numbers on her bedside clock glowed, indicating noon had already passed. She reached out to Tig's side of the bed, expecting to feel his warmth, but was met with cold sheets and a chilled pillow instead. "Dammit, Tiggy," she muttered to herself, a hint of frustration coloring her thoughts.

The petite woman rose from the expanse of the king-sized bed, retrieving yesterday's pastel purple thong from the floor. With a deft motion, she slid it up her legs before wrapping herself in her lover's Teller-Morrow Garage button-down, using it as a makeshift robe. Once semi-clothed, Trixie grabbed her pack of Marlboro Red 100's and Zippo lighter from the nightstand before making her way to the clubhouse's kitchen,As she entered the kitchen, Trixie lit up a Marlboro Red 100, the smoke curling around her as she spotted her stepmother, Gemma.

"Well, look who decided to wake up," Gemma greeted her with a sly smile. "Tigger must've worn you out good for you to be sleeping in this late, darlin'," she teased, the playful tone of an older woman who knew a thing or two about life's pleasures.

Trixie grinned mischievously as she blew smoke in Gemma's direction.

"Well, Mama, I reckon you're onto something, especially considering I've still got Tigger juice drippin down my thighs," she quipped, her words laced with a playful hint of innuendo.

Gemma rolled her eyes, a mixture of amusement and exasperation crossing her features. "Bellatrix Eileen, I did NOT need to know that," she chided with a playful shake of her head.

Trixie couldn't help but grin as she poured herself a generous cup of Folgers Black Silk coffee. With a flick of her wrist, she reached into the fridge for her favorite Mocha-flavored International Delight coffee creamer. "Y'all should know by now that I love to mess with you," she teased, the cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth adding to her playful demeanor.

Once satisfied with her coffee, the petite, tattooed woman set out in search of her honey.She found him in the shop, diligently changing the oil on his motorcycle.

Trixie sauntered up behind Tig, her steps light and barely audible on the concrete floor of the shop. With a gentle touch, she leaned against his back as he tended to his motorcycle, her demeanor soft, sleepy, and innocent. "Good morning, Daddy," she whispered, the honorific carrying a sense of reverence and affection.

Tig laid the socket wrench he was using on the ground, rising slowly as his left hand traced a tender path up his Princess's tattooed calf, "Well, good afternoon, babydoll," Tig murmured, his voice low and soothing as he leaned in closer to Trixie. "Did you sleep good?" he inquired, his tone filled with genuine concern and affection.

Trixie rolled her eyes playfully as her big, bad biker, stole a sip of her so-called "frufru coffee." "Sure did, HoneyBear, slept like a rock!" she replied, her tone teasing yet affectionate.

"That's good, darlin'," Tig replied, a hint of excitement in his voice. "We've been assigned the Costco run for the big summer bash this weekend. Let me finish up here, and I'll meet you in the shower," he added, his words laced with anticipation.

"Actually, I kinda wanted to watch you work. You look sexy when you're doing all that mechanicin'," Trixie grinned, leaning against the stainless steel toolbench, her gaze fixed on Tig.

The man shot Trixie a flirty grin as he went back to working on his bike, his attention divided between the motorcycle and the tiny woman who was staring at him with pure adoration.

***

An hour and a half later, Trixie emerged from Tig's dormitory transformed into a vision of allure. She was dressed in a black bustier top, paired with black leather skinny jeans that accentuated her curves. Her feet were clad in black Loubi Queen Alta's , adding an extra flair to her ensemble. A cropped black leather jacket completed the look, adding a touch of edginess.

Her cherry cola red hair was styled to perfection, teased and done up to the nines. Her makeup was equally striking, with a black smokey eye that highlighted her eyes, and a wine-red lip that added a bold finish to her appearance. She carried a large Louis Vuitton Neverfull, which was her signature purse.

***

The psychotic couple cruised down the road toward Stockton, Tig confidently at the wheel of Bellatrix's prized midnight black 2012 Dodge Challenger. Beside him, Bellatrix sat, her presence a potent combination of danger and allure. Their hands were intertwined on the center console, a silent affirmation of their bond as they embarked on their journey together.

A comfortable silence enveloped the car, the only sound the deep growl of the engine as they sped down the highway. Bellatrix broke the quiet by cracking her window slightly. "You got the Costco card from Bobby, right?" she asked, her voice cutting through the rumble of the car.

Tig nodded, his eyes briefly leaving the road to meet Bellatrix's gaze. "It's in my wallet, punkin'. Did you get the list from Gem?" he replied, his tone casual yet attentive.

***

Back in Charming, chaos unfolded as both Jax and his Ol'Lady, Tara, were rushed to Saint Thomas Hospital. The reason? A simple accident: they had fallen while making love in the shower. Both the matriarch and patriarch of the club were furious. While they might have expected such behavior from the Sergeant at Arms and his Ol'Lady, it was a shock coming from the Vice President.

Gemma sat in the absurdly uncomfortable chair of her son's hospital room, disappointment drenching her features. "You're a goddamn moron, Jackson Nathaniel. Leave that shit to your stepsister and Tig," she muttered, her words laden with frustration and concern.

Jax scoffed and rolled his eyes, trying to adjust to the jet-black cast encasing his wrist. "My bad for trying to have a happy marriage, Ma. Is Clay keeping an eye on Tara?" he asked, annoyance evident in his tone.

"Yes, baby, he is. The doctors are making sure she isn't concussed, although I'm sure she is. She bounced her head off a cast iron tub," Gemma said, her tone informative.

Just then, Clay and Tara strolled into the room casually. Tara's eyebrows jumped to her hairline when she laid eyes on the cast on Jax's left hand. "Oh, Jax, honey, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" she asked, her tone dripping with concern.

***

The Sergeant at Arms and the Enforcer barreled down the highway, heading back to Charming. The trunk and back seat were loaded down with their spoils, while the lady Enforcer laid peacefully asleep in the passenger seat. The song "Luckenbach, Texas (Back to the Basics of Love)" played softly in the background, adding to the relaxed atmosphere of their journey.

Tig glanced over at Trixie with a loving gaze as he reached for the seatbelt she had refused to wear earlier on their journey. "Silly lil' girl," he muttered affectionately, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Pulling into the parking lot of Teller Morrow, Tig spotted Jax and Clay sitting at a picnic table, smoking cigars. Once the car was parked, Jax stalked over to the passenger side and slammed his large palms on the window. "SONOFABITCH!" Bellatrix hollered, jolting awake from a dead sleep.

The tiny woman removed her seatbelt in a flash and practically threw herself out of the car. "YOU MOTHERFUCKER!" she shouted, chasing after her brother.

Tig knew better than to get involved. He stood idly by, watching as Bellatrix chased after Jax like a jungle cat on the hunt. It was clear she could handle her brother on her own. True to form, she caught up to him and proceeded to kick the crap out of him, much like a jungle cat asserting dominance over its prey.

Although he had to intervene once he saw Bellatrix reach for her blade. While SAMCRO was fine with their Vice President being beaten by his baby sister, knives were where they drew the line.

Tig marched over to the siblings, reaching for the twenty-seven-year-old and pulling her into his embrace. "Shh, shh, darling. Daddy's got you. Big brother got the message, huh, punkin'?" he whispered, trying to calm her.

He left Jax on the ground and carried Bellatrix to the picnic table where her father sat. Tig took a seat, sliding his babydoll into his lap, and then let her play with his left hand so she could self-soothe.

Bellatrix grabbed his hand by the pinkie and thumb, her voice barely above a whisper. "He scared me, Tiggy. Wasn't expecting him to do that. Shit! We still have to get the groceries," she said, her words a mix of relief and concern for their unfinished task.

Clay eyed his only daughter with concern. "Jax! Prospect! Come here and get the groceries out of Princess's car," he bellowed, his loud voice only serving to frighten Bellatrix more.

#tig trager smut #sons of anarchy #tig trager

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sovaghoul · 5 months

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Ritual

This final post will address Ritual purpose, required tools, etiquette, and progression.

If there has been anything in this series of posts that I didn’t touch on, or that needs expanding, please don’t hesitate to comment/DM. Thanks for reading along.

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The reasons for performing a Ritual usually fall under three categories:

to perform Magick or spellwork

to honor and connect with the Divine

to enact spiritual beliefs in a physical and visual way

But if we think about it, most Rituals accomplish all three purposes. In Sabbat rites, the stage of the God’s life is presented, participants are confronted with Divine presence, and energy is raised and put forth to turn the Wheel of the Year. Moon Rituals are then a time to honor the Goddess specifically and gain Her wisdom; express our belief in Her power, existence, and influence on our lives and the world; and we may also perform other sorts of Magick, such as healing, or for another cause.

This is a verse from a song titled, “Circles,” that I feel sums up Ritual purpose very succinctly:

Circles for healing and working the weather

Circles for knowing the Moon and the Sun

Circles for thanking the Lord and the Lady

Circles for dancing the dance never done

Here are tools that are absolutely needed for a Ritual:

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Ritual vs. Rite vs. Spell

My personal guideline is that a Ritual celebrates something and is usually repeated, like a holiday or a Moon phase. A spell is often a one-time or as-needed thing, and may be part of a ritual or done seperately. For example, I could charge a healing amulet in a Ritual, or just ground and center and hold the object in my hands while sitting on the couch. By contrast, doing a Midsummer Rite, while done at the Solstice specifically, adds to and builds upon the rest of the year and every Midsummer before it.

I see spells as having a very specified and narrow focus, as in, "help me get a good job" or, "heal this ailment." Rituals, while they still have focus and intent, are broader. Spells are also time-sensitive. They're finite. They can be part of a Ritual, but they aren't always, and can be done completely separately.

To expand/confuse things further, I call the individual parts of a Ritual "rites." So you have the the Rite of Casting a Circle, the Beltane rite, etc.. And when those are patchworked together, they make a Ritual.

To use an analogy, spells are one-shots, Rituals are chapter fics, and rites are the individual chapters.

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The altar itself, draped with a cloth if desired. Usually, it will be placed in the center of the Ritual space, facing North. It may have statues or other representations Deity on it, and may be decorated for the season and/or Ritual. It’s common to include a vase of flowers, regardless of any other decorations.

Candles, one each for the God and Goddess being honored plus four total for the Quarters, and a way to light them (I personally prefer matches, some use disposable lighters). Using heat-safe candle holders is an important safety measure. There may be representations of the Elements near the Quarter candles also, such as a stone for Earth, a feather for Air, an additional red candle for Fire, and a seashell for Water.

Incense appropriate to the Ritual being performed. It should be tended to throughout the ritual so it lasts for the duration.

Two small bowls, one filled with salt and another with water.

A wand. Usually the length of a forearm is sufficient, and the type of wood may vary.

Each participants’ athame. The Priest’s and Priestess’ athames are usually on the altar.

Each participants’ goblet. The Priestess’ goblet is usually placed on the altar itself and used to consecrate drink for the Cakes and Wine rite.

An altar pentacle, or at the very least a plate or platter to hold the food that will be blessed during the Ritual.

Food and drink to consecrate and share. Usually, a separate bowl or other vessel is also provided for libations during Cakes and Wine.

Any other tools/accessories are optional, depending on practice, preference, and necessities of the Ritual. Here is a basic diagram of a possible altar set-up:

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These are general guidelines for polite and proper behavior in Ritual. Specific groups/Covens may have other requests of their participants.

Arrive to the Ritual location on time and freshly showered, with any garb, food, or other items you may need.

If you are unable to sit/stand/turn/etc. for several minutes at a time, or under your own power, please make this known prior to Ritual so that appropriate efforts to accommodate you can be made.

Once in Ritual space, only move or turn deosil (clockwise) unless directed otherwise. In some cases, asking permission to move widdershins (counter-clockwise) is acceptable and will be granted if deemed appropriate and necessary.

Please do not touch or pick up another’s tools (athame, goblet/chalice, etc.) without being given express permission of the owner.

Please do not pick up or touch items on the altar without asking or being instructed to do so. When doing so, use either the right hand, or, if necessary, both hands together.

If you hear the phrases, “Blessèd Be,” or, “So Mote It Be,” it’s a pretty safe bet you’re supposed to repeat it (except during Personal Consecrations, only the person being consecrated need repeat the phrase then).

The Priest/ess will usually direct participants as to what actions to take during Ritual. But as a general rule if more than three people are performing the same action together, you’re probably supposed to do it too.

Once the Circle is cast, please do not leave the Ritual space unannounced, except in an immediate emergency. In any other case, please ask the Priest/ess to open the Circle to allow you to pass the boundary.

Please only use participants' Ritual names once the Ritual has begun. If you haven't been explicitly told names already, or if you forget, it's perfectly permissible to ask.

Some groups perform Ritual very solemnly, with a formal air and devoted theatrics. Others take a more jovial and casual approach. You'll get the vibe pretty quickly once Ritual starts.

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Most Rituals follow some kind of formula and structure. The following outline of a Ritual progression was created from a melding of my experiences, and various reading materials.

Prior to Ritual, all participants need to don their robes, and whatever other garb they wish to wear. If there are any special instructions for the Ritual, the Priest/ess will usually explalin them briefly at this time. Other preparation may include a guided meditation tailored to the Ritual’s purpose.

⭐

Self-Blessing.

Before entering the Ritual space, participants go through a small, self-blessing rite, anointing specific points on their bodies with consecrated salt-water. There is usually a space and script provided for this purpose. After this is done, everyone will gather at the Ritual site. Once there, everyone breathes deeply to ground, center, and align with each other. Group chanting may take place here as well to facilitate that alignment.

⭐

Circle Opening.

There are several steps to creating sacred space. During these acts, all present are to lend their energy to the physical actions of the Priest/ess.

1. Lighting Altar Candles. Deity candles are lit, sometimes with brief spoken dedications to the Gods being honored (i.e., “This candle burns for ______, Who represents XYZ”). Incense is also lit at this time.

2. Elemental Dedications. Beginning in the East and moving deosil (clockwise), each of the Quarter candles are lit, along with a brief dedication, usually a poetic description of the Direction and Element and what they mean/represent.

3. Circle Casting. Starting in the East, the Circle is drawn by walking deosil around the boundaries of the Ritual space, the energy directed by the wand. A chant of intent may be spoken at this time.

4. Elemental Blessing. The Elemental representatives of salt and water on the altar are mixed, blessed, and consecrated with a brief statement of intent. The incense may also be similarly blessed at this time.

5. Circle Consecration. The salt-water and incense are carried deosil around the Circle. The water is sprinkled and the incense smoke wafted along the boundary. A chant or invocation may be spoken at this time as well.

6. Personal Consecrations. Each participant has their name stated out loud, is then anointed with consecrated salt-water, and finally cleansed with incense smoke. Appropriate songs or chants may be sung at this time.

7. Deity Invocations. The Gods are formally invited to attend and preside over the rite. This is done here because the space has been prepared for and dedicated to Them by establishing and consecrating the boundaries and participants.

8. Calling the Quarters. Beginning again in the East and still moving deosil, the appropriate directional Element is invoked to watch over lend their energy to the rite. All present should salute the Quarters with their athames.

When all Opening steps are completed, it’s common to ring a bell to signal that this portion is complete.

⭐

Ritual Purpose.

This is the point in the Ritual where things get specific, and any necessary rites are performed. Sabbat rites often include an enaction of the stage of the God’s life at that Sabbat, a dance to raise energy for turning the Wheel of the Year, and can also involve a channeling or guided meditation. Esbat rites also often involve a channeling/meditation in addition to any other Magick or spells that may be performed.

⭐

Cakes and Wine.

Food and drink are ritually blessed and libated to the Gods. Then, all participants share in the food and drink together. This is also a time to discuss the rite that was just performed, and/or any other topic the Priest/ess may have chosen.

⭐

Circle Closing.

The Quarters are banished (beginning in the East and moving deosil), directed to return to their own realms, again accompanied by athame salutes. All candles are extinguished to dismiss the energies that resided there during the rite. The Gods are thanked, and the Deity candles on the altar are extinguished as well. A statement that the rite is ended is usually spoken.

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The basic structure of the ritual is the same every time, but the Ritual Purpose portion can vary according to the purpose of the rite. Often, though, the same script will be read and the same actions performed year-to-year and month-to-month. This is done to create triggers for experience. Repetition of the same actions for the same purpose creates a subconscious memory of what happened last time, and so the mind and spirit then react in similar fashion to generate a new experience this time around. Additionally, the repetition builds the energy on itself; if similar energy is generated each time, the end result is stronger than if it were to change every time. Hence, the number of Ritual scripts needed can be as few as nine, one for each Sabbat, plus an Esbat.

Thank you for reading.

Blessèd Be!

#wicca #wiccan #witch #witchcraft #pagan #paganism #spirituality #religion #occultism #about me #wicca 101

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jinx-on-mars-19xx · 11 months

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The Buds Bloom in Spring

⚔️ All Previous Parts Here ⚔️

Dom x Colson (Yungblud x Machine Gun Kelly)

Warning: ABO (knots, slick, mpreg), Viking/god Col, fae/god Dom, fluff, smut, we all deserve some happy, spring puns, fear, PTSD, a few mentions of sexual assault and miscarriage (Dom), some angst, needy boys, bites/marking, commands, masterbation, facials, cum shot, teasing, body worship, almost annoying amounts of love and worship, god puns, Col being silly, Col being cocky af, lactation kink, cum tasting, cliffhanger (sexy one) ☠️ rating: explicit ☠️ shared ideas by: @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker 🖤 Dom centric body worship chapter because: happy birthday Dom! 🎂

Dom was nervous. He knew he should be relaxed, they'd literally just destroyed the only people after them but he was anxious sitting with his pups with all their people milling around. He wanted to trust their clans but there was a small voice in the back of his mind whispering they had never caught whoever Megna convinced to help her. He knew it wasn't Tavis- he was a last minute weapon that she used wrong, and it wasn't Eric- he was her last ditch effort. He worried that meant there was someone about who helped to poison him and his children. It was impossible for him to enjoy the food unless explicitly brought to him by Inga but she didn't mind. She was just as careful as he was honestly.

The party was in full swing, almost everyone was deep in their cups and wild. He knew part of it was the relief but honestly he knew their people loved to have fun- any excuse was a good excuse. It was normally a beautiful sight to him but he was scared. He couldn't get rid of it completely. It was incredible to witness all three- now four clans mingling even though the newest additions were a small number. For now. It was obviously a little split, they couldn't completely get their human villagers comfortable with their magical ones but as long as they weren't fighting it was fine.

Kol'son was close of course, he'd shifted back and their son had thankfully followed suit but the man was more drunk than he probably meant to be. Dom was used to being pawed at, he loved it normally but with everything that had tumbled from his mouth that day he was… sensitive. To say the least. He wasn't annoyed, he adored the Viking and totally understood his need for libations. The god had been through hell right along with him, he deserved the peace of mind that alcohol and their kin's herbs hopefully brought. Dom just didn't feel comfortable taking part. He wanted to be sober just in case. There was a sick feeling in his stomach and he wasn't sure if it was the revenge, their newly growing babe, or his fear.

"Mmm, who's the most beautiful bitch at this feast?" Kol purred as he leaned over to his wife's throne and kissed his cheek. He could feel there was something off but he couldn't place what it was which always drove him insane.

"Ciarán?" Dom teased back, feeling enough levity to at least play along and they both searched out their happy son in the crowd. Cia was dancing with his uncles, his arms tangled around Tom's neck. He was obviously sleepy but warring with himself. He'd be out before long but they trusted their brothers to care for him.

"Close, but no." The god hummed, his lips working a trail down the boy's neck. Normally the siren would be pushing into it, begging with his body and mind that they get even closer but he only tilted his head and that more than anything worried the wolf.

"Rose?" He teased, gently rocking the basket their daughters were in. The boy's had their own as if they'd accidentally paired alpha and omega together. It wasn't on purpose though, which babes were most comfortable with each other could change daily. Sometimes they switched who they wanted to snuggle with and at times they wouldn't calm unless they were all close together.

"Definitely close, but no. You're the prettiest bitch. But I'll remember to tell the kids you implied they were." He joked, chuckling when Dom scoffed.

"Oh but it's good enough for me?" The boy asked, his jade eyes innocent and wide as his gaze met Kol'son's and made his heart stutter. They'd been together for years but it never mattered, Dom would always be so gorgeous it took his breath away.

The Viking sighed, his lips curling in a dopey smile and he cupped his queen's cheek and caressed his pink skin with his thumb. "You've always been my bitch." He teased, the tip of his thumb ghosting over his lover's bottom lip. "From thrall to goddess. Why am I not surprised? I thought you were one the day I found you with my father's sword between your legs."

Dom choked, his cheeks turning even redder at his husband's words. Gods the man was smashed, he didn't normally talk so sweetly in front of others but he hoped no one heard that and took it wrong. The selkie huffed, biting the tip of his daidí's finger and sucking softly. He wasn't surprised by the way his belly flipped or the way his core tingled, if anything he was thankful. He was scared the goddess of rot had broken something inside him but he wasn't daft enough to think everything would be perfect automatically. "I'd raver your sword between 'em."

A low growl rumbled in the alpha's chest and he stood without another word. He honestly didn't give a fuck if the feast was in their name, they'd spent time with their people and it was time to get his mate alone, it'd be going on for days anyway. Dom didn't know which he was more impressed by- the way his husband gripped both baskets in one hand or the moment he slipped an arm under the siren's ass and scooped him up as well. A high squeak escaped him that of course the man chuckled at but he was thrown half over the brute's shoulder and couldn't help but be embarrassed.

'We've got the boy. Would you like us to take the babes?' Mod's voice floated through their minds but Dom shook his head. He needed them close and it would be better if no one had to come knocking every time little mouths needed fed. He thought a quick thank you but couldn't really look up, his husband had him at an awkward angle though he wouldn't complain. Kol'son's ass might be less plump than his own but let's be real- no one had an ass like him and he adored every inch of his mate anyway. Down to his perky sweet butt. The moment night air surrounded him instead of the smoky great hall he let one hand wander down his daidí's back to tuck inside the back of his pants. The Viking stumbled before hiking Dom more stable on his shoulder and he pulled the boy's tunic up. The siren squeaked, a fresh trickle of slick escaping his overheated folds but he blushed even warmer. He walked around naked frequently but having just his ass and pussy on display in the cool night air was surprisingly erotic.

He didn't know what his husband's next move would be but the position certainly brought back memories of their first walk together. It must have for the god as well because in the next moment he felt fangs scraping over the first bite Kol ever gave him. "Alpha?" He whimpered, his half hard cock twitching against his lover's skin. The walk was bumpy but it brought him vibrations of arousal and the night stayed silent around them. It was oddly peaceful besides their growing harsher breaths and his low whines.

Kol sighed when he finally got them back to their hut. The walk had felt too long and too short at the same time. Part of him was scared to treat this like any other night. He didn't exactly know how to approach sex after everything he knew Dom went through. He hadn't been thinking and he knew he was too intoxicated but they both had needs and he wasn't scared to try… just terrified to break the boy more. He kicked the door closed behind them before setting their babes down in the nest, they were fine in their baskets until they woke up. He was more careful with his queen than he normally would be- cradling the back of his neck and wrapping his arm around his plush thighs as he laid him down. It wasn't just an emotional thing, he was carrying incredibly precious cargo and after everything they'd been coming to terms with he had to be gentle.

Dom smiled up at his lover but the moment his spine hit the bed and his second skin the Viking started to pull away. There was a nervous clench to the man's jaw that had him worried. Kol backed up enough to help him undress but those gorgeous blue eyes never met his and the tightness in his jaw never relaxed. "Daidí?" He asked softly, his voice barely above a breath. He wanted to pull him close but maybe he was still anxious too because the moment he was bare he let his god step away.

Kol'son walked around the room and lowered their fires before stripping off his own clothes and crossing his arms as he stared at the boy he loved more than anything. Dom was laying out, his legs fallen open, his hand resting over the soft swell of his belly. He hadn't even had time to lose his bump and now it would grow full again. He couldn't wait. It always made the siren a goddess but… he truly was one. He couldn't help wondering if the glow under his pale skin was the baby or his magic or some perfect combination of both. Dom's toes were curling in his fur below him, betraying his nerves but at least he could see the kid's arousal in the twitch of his dick and the slick wet shine over his pretty pink pussy. Even his nipples were wet, the sucked rosy buds matching his core and the tip of his cock. "What scares you?" The god didn't mean to ask it, he was just terrified of how to handle himself and he thought honesty was best. He wouldn't hurt him.

Dom startled, a soft breath escaping him. He didn't know exactly how to answer but he knew his lover was only trying to help. "She touched me." He whispered, his gold reflective gaze darting to his shaft before he looked back to Kol. The alpha was hard for him, his cock hanging heavy and red between his strong thighs. His knot was already threatening to pop, pulsing at the base. His golden skin was shiny with sweat and his muscles were twitching all over as if he was fighting himself not to lunge.

His jaw clenched, his lip pulling up in a snarl before he caught himself and relaxed. "That's mine but… it's also yours. Will you touch yourself for me? I know you need me to erase it but… I think it'll help you more if you start." He knew it didn't exactly make sense but it did to him. He wanted the boy to prove to himself he didn't need Kol to feel better. He had his own power. His own strength. It's what the man fell in love with when they were just a man and a seal pup.

Dom tried to breathe deep but everything was trembling. His demons were trying to flash the memory of her in his mind but his mate had asked him for something. He wouldn't let him down. His palm caressed over his belly and he felt himself go softer as he curled a fist around his dick. He was thankful when his husband walked closer and knelt next to the bed, his pheromones thick enough he could taste them on the back of his tongue. "That's it. A little more? Squeeze. Pull the hood back for daidí? Want to see you." The god's voice shook, his hot breath smelled of those spiced herbs and wine and it tickled the siren's skin. He did as he was told of course, his thumb rubbing over the head of himself to draw back his foreskin and a bead of precum trailed down his shaft.

It reminded them both of their early days. Dom had been so innocent and naive to the point he called orgasms 'feeling good'. They made love before the prince ever even jacked off. He learned how to pleasure his master before himself. Kol taught him that as well, talking him through it until he found every little thing that made him squirm and whimper. He'd started to go soft but he felt himself filling again until his dick was throbbing but he kept everything slow. Soft. He didn't want to cum without his mate.

"Feel good ástin min? Hard for me- for yourself aren't you?" That voice dropped to gravel and hinted at a growl and Dom shivered, nodding once. "Fuck yeah you are. Such a gorgeous bitch. Cunts wet too isn't it? Yeah. I can hear it. Making yourself drip. Look how gorgeous you are."

A hand tangled in Dom's hair and tilted his head up so he would actually look down at himself. He'd rather watch his husband drooling over him but he obeyed because he knew it made his alpha happy in all the right ways. He watched himself, the way his fingers looked wrapped around his pulsing shaft, the way precum dripped down and tickled over his skin. He let himself drift at the sounds of his play and his own breathing and the soft growl in his lover's chest. Every stroke drove him closer and closer and he was so lost to it he didn't feel Kol'son moving until a tongue flicked over his cockhead. "Fu-fu-ck!" His voice broke and his pleasure surprised them both- white heat squirting over the Viking's face. His lips weren't curled around the tip so when Dom came he was splashed all over, some of it even dripping over his eyelashes and nose. The siren moaned through it, he couldn't stop himself so he kept rubbing until every drop was free and his toes were curling from overstimulation. He was surprised at his pleasure, normally his core was more involved but while he was soaking between his thighs he wasn't sure he'd cum that way.

Kol blinked slowly as he sat at his wife's feet and licked over his lips. He was suitably surprised, he'd given the boy countless facials but never been given one. He loved burying his face between Dom's legs and getting drowned in his slick and he adored blowing him but that… was a first. Who knew they could still find some? "You look pretty in pearls." The goddess purred before finally letting himself giggle and Kol'son couldn't stop himself from laughing too and preening playfully, posing a few silly ways just to make his mate chuckle harder. Dom laughed until his stomach hurt and when he finally settled he just watched his perfect man slowly wiping his face clean and sucking his fingers clean. He was moving so carefully as if he didn't want a drop to escape. "Filfy whore you is."

Kol grinned, sticking his tongue out that he knew was coated in white before he swallowed his mouthful and crawled up over the boy. "You love it." He hummed back, his voice dripping sex the way his skin dripped sweat over Dom's body. The scent of him was intoxicating and the siren knew he wasn't going soft anytime soon. He needed his lover in a way he couldn't describe. It wasn't his heat- he was pregnant. It wasn't just his fear though that was still there, quieter but there.

"I love you." He whispered, his plumb black lips parting on a happy sigh as Kol settled between his spread legs. His body flinched when that oversized monster cock brushed his folds. He didn't mean to and it hurt his heart but the feeling of that bitch was still fresh. Before Kol could try to pull away or take anything wrong he wrapped his arms around his neck, his legs around the god's waist, and he pulled him down till they were flush together. "Don't go. I won't apologize but you know you ain't doing nuffin wrong." He soothed, letting his hips sway, teasing his dripping core against his alpha's pulsing hot cockhead.

The god groaned, rolling his lip between his teeth as he watched the boy but he had to take him at his word. He just wanted to worship the goddess and erase every bad thought or feeling from him. Wash other people's sins away in his cum and sweat and blood. "I'll make you pure again before I make you fucking filthy." He rasped and he watched as those golden eyes were swallowed by his pupils. He could feel Dom's core clenching and trickling fresh need against his tip. "Should I try fucking another litter into you?" He teased, a smirk curling his lips. He had to be himself and trust Dom to be honest. It was the only way for them to move on.

"You know it don't work like tha'. Jus' one 'is time." The boy huffed back but he was too enraptured to roll his eyes. They both knew he was probably wrong about the number though.

Kol scoffed, arching a brow as he let his hips roll, his dick easing playfully from hole to hole. He pressed a bit harder, letting himself catch first against the boy's ass then his pussy, bouncing his tip against Dom's balls before slipping back down. Everything was so wet they were already squelching and he knew they couldn't be quiet. They just couldn't. "You should really know better by now sweet boy. I'm going to need you to hold on though- see…" He trailed off with a sigh before he pushed himself to sit up with Dom wrapped around him and he let his palms pet down the siren's back to grip his ass hard. "I've been holding back for years, just a little. You can take me now though can't you? My goddess. You want to see if we can break the bed?" Dom whimpered but nodded, his claws making pinprick marks on Kol's skin. When the wolf smiled next it was pure power and it caught his breath in his chest but the next words truly made him melt. "Good boy."

Author's Note/Tags: @hollywoodxwhore @jaxbreaker @manicpixiedreamb0y @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker @cole-way-iero28 🖤

I hope you enjoyed Dom's (kind of) birthday chapter! I wanted to write something special for him but I didn't know if I could work in his actual birthday so hopefully this works. They're still dealing with stuff but I think they'll be okay 👀 How much more intensive can they get? Will they break the bed? Will the babies interrupt? Will Dom accidentally make everyone fertile and bring spring too early? Doesn't Kol look pretty in pearls? 🫣🖤☠️

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butwhyytho1 · 1 year

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Excerpt Up-and-Coming by butwhyytho on AO3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42223755/chapters/106013757

Steve walks through the kitchen, preparing snacks. He smiles as Eddie wraps his arms around him from behind, leaning his chin on Steve’s shoulder.

“You’re distracting me.” Steve chides, but leans into the touch.

“Hey, you’re the one that’s going to be distracting me later during the game. How am I going to concentrate with you in the room, looking delicious as ever?” Eddie counters.

Steve rolls his eyes, escaping Eddie’s comfortable embrace.

“I’m sure you’ll survive.”

“Hey.” Eddie says, bringing Steve around to face him. “You know, we don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.”

Steve lets out a breath. “I’m ready. I just…don’t want things to change, you know?”

“With the kids or with us?”

“Both, I guess. What if things don’t stay this good, and the kids suffer if we break up?”

“I don’t plan on breaking up with you anytime soon, sweetheart.”

Blushing, Steve finally meets Eddie’s gaze. “I don’t either.”

“Then you have nothing to worry your pretty little head over. Now, do we have enough libations to keep us from cannibalization this winter?”

As Steve nods, Eddie drops a kiss on his lips, groaning when he has to pull away.

“After tonight, I can do that in front of the kids to shut them up.” Eddie jokes, and Steve smiles.

“You sure they’re going to figure it out?”

“They better. I’ve spent hours on this plan, and it better come out well.”

“You did a great job.” Steve agrees. “Now help me set out the snacks.”

“As the king demands.” Eddie sneaks one more kiss, then ransacks the cupboards for chips.

Steve leaves Eddie to his task, and goes to pick up Max, Lucas, and Erica from Lucas’s house. Nancy is bringing El and Mike, and Jonathon is dropping off Will. Gareth and Jeff, a little skeptical but trusting Eddie enough to trust Steve, and Robin are meeting them at Steve’s house.

They all arrive around the same time, crowding the door till Steve gets his key out. He waves to Jon and Nancy as they leave, probably to go hang out with each other until it’s pickup time.

“Are you going to keep us waiting all night?” Erica demands, hands on her hips in a great Steve impression.

“Yup.” Steve answers, even as he slips his key in the lock and opens the door.

The veritable crowd of teenagers storm in, and Steve is glad to see his house so full.

Soon enough, they’re gathered in the living room, where chairs have been arranged around the coffee table. Eddie sits on his reclining throne, looking regal and so handsome Steve has to bite back a sigh of contentment. From Dustin’s nudge, he doesn’t do a great job of it.

Steve joins Robin, Max, and El on the couch, where he’s laid out magazines to rifle through, but he has a feeling they’ll all be watching the game more than not.

“Welcome, travelers!” Eddie booms in a voice larger than life. “Brave knights, cunning warriors, secretive thieves. You all were meant to be here, in this exact moment, for one reason and one reason only. Eddie the Banished has been accused of the high capital crime of murder, and you must find his one witness to appease the courts of the realm of his innocence. Do you ascend to this challenge?”

The teens look at each other in confusion, but answer with a resounding “Yes!”.

Eddie smirks, delighted. “Well, then. Let the adventure begin.”

Steve watches raptly as Eddie takes them through the game. Eddie gives them hints about the witness, like where they’re from, where they met, and why the realm needs their specific word on Eddie’s innocence. The witness is from Hawkins, they met at school, and they’re very respected in the community.

It's Erica who asks the question, “How well does Eddie the Banished know this so-called witness?”

Eddie’s eyes sparkle as he answers. “The witness, if you must know, is Eddie’s secret lover.”

The table goes wild.

Gareth and Dustin burst out laughing, already knowing where this is going. Erica is struck silent for once, and Mike rolls his eyes.

“Seriously? You made up a whole campaign to tell us who you’re dating?” Mike asks petulantly.

Will speaks up first. “What? I think it’s fun.”

“Well, sure, yeah, I guess.” Mike mumbles, sitting back in his seat and crossing his arms.

“Can I make a guess?” Gareth asks, and Eddie turns to him with a flourish.

“You may try. Roll for Insight.”

Gareth rolls a 7, and he groans. Eddie laughs delightedly.

“I am so sorry, my loyal healer, you whisper a name in my ear, to which I shudder and recoil. That name is incorrect and offensive!”

Dustin speaks up next. “I want to try!”

Eddie purses his lips, eyes dancing. “First, do you have any healing spells?”

“You know I don’t.”

“Roll for ability check!”

Dustin rolls a 13, but Eddie still cringes dramatically.

“I’m so sorry, my young artificer, you needed a 15 or higher to vanquish your silencing curse.”

“Since when am I under a silencing curse?” Dustin demands.

“Since you entered the cave first last round. You failed to check your vitals since then.”

Dustin grimaces, but accepts it. He can see where this is going, and he loves it.

“So, you’re silencing Gareth and Dustin.” Comes Lucas’s voice. “Does that mean they already know who you’re datin—I mean, who the witness is?”

Eddie beams. “Roll for initiative!”

Lucas cheers when he gets a 17.

Eddie chuckles along with the group, nodding. “Yes, Gareth the Great and the Master Inventor have previous knowledge of this character.”

“So it’s someone we know?” Mike butts in.

“Wait for your turn, first.” Eddie warns, not giving anything away.

The next several rounds narrow down the choices. The party figures out the witness is younger than Eddie, but older than the rest of them. They have brown hair with hazel eyes, and they would only play DnD under duress.

The first issue comes when Jeff asks if it’s a girl from school.

Eddie answers no, and all hell breaks loose.

“You said they met at school!”

“This is contradictory!”

“Did you forget your own rules?”

Then, a small voice makes them all stop.

Will sits forward, not looking at anybody when he says, “The witness and Eddie met in school. It’s not a girl from school.” He points out, biting his lips. “Could it be a guy?”

The table goes silent, until Erica groans and says, “Damn it, that’s so obvious. He’s never used pronouns, it's totally a guy.”

The rest of the table nods, and Dustin and Gareth have to hold back their smiles.

Meanwhile, the couch group is listening in.

“Why is everyone so surprised?” El asks. “That it’s not a girl?”

Robin goes a little pale. “Because, um, Eddie’s also a guy. Some people don’t like same-gender couples.”

Max snorts. “That’s rich. Like we care about that shit. Also, Eddie being gay? Totally called it.”

Robin relaxes a bit, and so does Steve. He hadn’t realized how a group of people trying to figure out who he was would be so nerve-wracking.

They turn back to the middle of the room, where Eddie has stood up and started pacing.

“My trial is tomorrow! If you don’t find the name and location of my witness, I’m doomed! Utterly and completely doomed!” He falls to the ground dramatically, sprawling over the carpet.

“If we can’t choose a name,” Jeff begins, “then we could try finding a location first?”

Eddie pops back up.

“That you could. Roll for a tracking spell.”

Jeff rolls an 11, and El smiles next to Steve.

“You barely muster up enough magic for a tracking spell, but it works. The witness is currently on the North side of Hawkins.”

“How does that help us?” Erica scowls. “We don’t know anyone on the North side of Hawkins besides Steve.”

Steve tenses, and Eddie can’t help the smile on his face.

“The truth lies up to your interpretation.” Eddie responds vaguely. Dustin bangs his head against the table, muttering, "So stupid, so stupid," to himself.

A few more rounds pass, and the party is getting closer. The witness, and Eddie’s boyfriend, is discovered to have an apparently horrible taste in music, has graduated, and has great hair.

Steve finds himself cheering for the party to find him. Dustin keeps giving him happy glances, and Robin laughs loudly whenever the party asks an accurate question.

Mike speaks up, finally on his own turn. “Do they know about the Upside Down?”

Eddie tilts his head. “Be more specific.” He says, and the table goes quiet with shock, except Jeff and Gareth.

“Has this guy—the witness, joined us on any real-life adventures?” Mike narrows his eyes at Eddie, daring him to answer.

“Roll for initiative.”

The table erupts with cheers. A natural 20.

Eddie pretends to scowl, but his eyes are smiling.

“If you must know, my witness has journeyed to the Upside Down and back several times, endangering his life for the sake of the party. This man has fought beasts and man alike, with his bare hands. He has been entrusted with your lives and the lives of others on many an occasion, earning your respect and friendship in every step. In fact, if you look around this very room, you may discover that the witness has been here….all along.” Eddie’s voice is as quiet as a whisper on the last line, and his eyes flick over to Steve.

The party, following Eddie’s glance, locks onto Steve.

In one breath, the 7 members exclaim, “STEVE?!”

#steddie #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #fanfiction #fanfic excerpt #dnd #stranger things #butwhyytho #ao3 #ao3fic #archive of our own

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scapegrace74-blog · 1 year

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The Man from Snowy River, Chapter 6

A/N I’m back from my short trip to Montreal and have the next chapter ready to go. For those wondering when the romance is going to kick in, we’re almost there! In the meantime, have an awkward dinner party.

Previous chapters can be read on my AO3 page.

The Netherton dining table was set for six, an empty chair testament to the space taken up by Julia Beauchamp’s absence and her husband’s enduring grief. Heavy Bohemian crystal refracted the light of a brand new gaslit chandelier, but a fire crackled merrily in the hearth, keeping the evening’s chill at bay.

Ned Gowan leaned back in his chair and gave his waistcoat a satisfied pat.

“My dear Miss Morriston, that was the finest trifle I’ve ever eaten,” the lawyer declared, smiling genially at his hostess.

Rosemary Morriston, Claire’s governess and her late mother’s sister, presided over one end of the elegant table. She wore a severe black dress reminiscent of Queen Victoria’s mourning attire, but her eyes were lively and her wit was sharp.

“I thank you, Mr. Gowan, but it isn’t a trifle. It’s a Charlotte Russe.”

“A Charlotte Russe!,” Henry Beauchamp echoed. “My dear sister-in-law occasionally bestows upon her humble relations the fruits of her superior education.”

It was a point of wordless conflict that Rosemary spoke and read five languages fluently, while Henry struggled to understand his own in written form.

“It’s a good thing that I do, Henry, or else Claire would be half-savage by now,” she retorted.

There was some question whether that wasn’t already the case. The incident with Frank Randall still stung the Englishman’s pride. His daughter was forbidden to leave the manor house while he considered his next action.

Henry poured three glasses of a fine Madeira he’d had brought up from his cellar and passed them to his lawyer and his guest.

“Mr. Munro,” Rosemary asked with a note of exasperation, “would you pass the decanter, please?”

The drover blushed, wondering if he’d somehow broken with an unfamiliar genteel protocol. In the Highlands, a lady might sip a shandy on a hot day but would never consume anything stronger.

“I’m verra sorry, madame,” he apologized, handing the bottle down the table, “I hadna realized…”

“That a woman might enjoy what custom deems is a man’s privilege?” Rosemary finished for him while pouring herself a generous serving.

“Spare us your feminist nonsense,” Henry growled, ears burning at being countermanded at his own table.

“Aunt Rosemary is right, father,” Claire spoke up. “Women should be permitted to do anything they are capable of.” The sub-text of her comment was clear. Not only should women be allowed to determine their own actions, they should determine their own fate as well.

“Do you hear that?” the patriarch stormed to the table at large. “My own daughter has been infected by that modern rubbish you espouse, Rosemary!”

“Your own daughter,” Rosemary replied with icy calm, “has a good mind and an interest in veterinary medicine. Would you see those talents developed, or try to trap her in some gilded cage?”

Gowan and Munro glanced across the table at one another, uncomfortable to be caught in the midst of a family skirmish.

Seizing the opportunity to broker peace, the lawyer raised his glass of port and his voice over the melee.

“May I propose a toast,” he exclaimed. “To the sweet libation that fathered…,” then, glancing down the table at Miss Morriston, “I am, sorry, madame,” he grinned, “mothered such a disputation.”

Chagrined, the whole table raised a glass, and the moment of tension passed.

“How do you find the Madeira, Munro?” Beauchamp asked his guest. “A damn sight better than the whisky we used to drink up in the glens, is it not?”

Not wishing to be discourteous to his host, but unwilling to disparage his birthright, the drover split the balance.

“Tae each palace it’s king. Fine wine seems fittin’ in yer lovely hame, but naught equals a fine dram when the sky is yer canopy an’ the heather yer bed.”

“Mr. Munro, how poetic!” Claire exclaimed, charmed.

“Bah!” her father spat in contempt. “The only thing those mountains of yours are good for is grazing cattle and sheep. If it were up to me, there would be fences from here to Balmoral.”

“Ye’d have the crofters turned from their hames, then?” Munro asked, incredulous.

“It would be a mercy!” Beauchamp cried, riled up. “They should move to the towns and cities and become productive members of modern society, instead of clinging to their medieval superstitions and living in squalor.”

“It seems, father,” Claire observed when the rest of the table fell silent at Henry Beauchamp’s diatribe, “that you are quite comfortable with modernism, when it suits your own ends.”

Aunt Rosemary beamed. Ned Gowan looked on in approval. Hugh Munro had to hide a chuckle behind his linen napkin. Only Henry Beauchamp was unimpressed by his daughter’s sharp wit.

Claire was spared her father’s further anger when the door to the hallway swung open. Jamie Fraser stood frozen in the frame, his arms laden with freshly chopped wood. His stormy eyes quickly took the measure of the room and its occupants. The fine china. The gleaming mahogany furnishings. The starch and lace of the diner’s attire, contrasted with his own hastily donned woolen vest and dusty breeches. He struggled against the urge to bow his head in deference.

“Mrs. Crook asked that I bring more wood fer the fire,” he explained as he entered the room.

“Hallo lad,” Hugh Munro greeted amiably.

“Hello James,” Ned Gowan said.

“Good evening, Jamie,” Claire added, smiling at him in a way that made him forget his dirty trousers.

“Well, it seems we’re all acquainted,” Henry Beauchamp commented drolly, wondering how an upstart Highland labourer came to be so well connected.

“Not everyone, Henry. I’m Rosemary Morriston,” Aunt Rosemary introduced herself.

“Good evening, ma’am,” Jamie offered a curt bow, then hastened to make his way to the fire grate to dispatch his mission and flee this room of inhospitable formality. The air was thick with tension, and Jamie wondered what unpleasantness he’d interrupted. Not even the sight of Claire in her lovely frock, hair styled like the figure on his mother’s cameo brooch, could induce him to linger.

“We were jes speaking o’ the Highlands, lad,” Hugh Munro offered in explanation. “Ye ken them better than any o’ us here. What do ye think o’ transforming them tae pasturage?”

Jamie froze, wary of being lured into insubordination. The eyes that looked upon him seemed sincerely interested in his opinion. All save the lord of the manor, who stared at his empty plate with a frown. Claire gave him a nod of encouragement.

“Weel,” he began slowly, considering his words. “I think ye could sooner hold back the tide as tame the mountains.”

Hearing Henry Beauchamp’s scoff of disdain, Jamie hastened to finish his chore and bid everyone a good night. Once the door swung closed behind him, Ned Gowan remarked with admiration,

“That boy has a quality about him.”

“Yes,” Henry Beauchamp replied. “The feral quality of the Highlanders.”

“Does that include yer best friend?” Hugh Munro inquired, earning a sharp look from Aunt Rosemary and one of confusion from Claire.

“I have no such friend,” Henry ended the conversation by rising from his seat. “We’ll have an early start tomorrow. I’ll be turning in.”

He left behind a room full of memories and conjecture, and one empty place setting.

#my writing #outlander #fanfiction

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highwaytothedangerzone502 · 1 year

Text

Foxtrot Alpha Alpha - Chapter 11

Pairing: Hangman x Female OC

Word Count: 3687

Warnings: Drunk driving, underage drinking, death, car wreck, grief, implied depression, swearing

Summary: Hangman learned his lesson a long time ago to never show his true feelings when someone's words or actions hurt him. To do so showed weakness that could be exploited, and Seresin men couldn't show weakness. Of course, there was an exception to every rule, and Jake's always came in the form of women, three in particular: his mom, Juliette Kazansky, and the girl whose name he could no longer bring himself to speak. She was the girl that got away; she was his biggest 'what if' and his biggest regret; she would forever be the ghost that haunted his dreams. Jake believed that's where she'd stay, for he would surely never see her again after what he did.

Or so he thought.

Notes: This is the sequel to India Lima Yankee; I'm using the same callsign for the Female OC as in Ghost Story because I just really like it, but they are different characters; chapters in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: Highway Don't Care People Need People

****

Hangman

The sun had set long ago behind the horizon, but the bright moonlight and the massive bonfire in the middle of the field provided plenty of light for Jake to see his football buddies. They were celebrating the last night they'd all be together. Most of them had been drinking, mainly beer, although some had brought harder stuff, like tequila and vodka. Jake refrained from the libations. He would do nothing to risk his career with the Navy, no matter how much his friends pressured him into trying a sip.

Annalise hadn't been able to make it as she was returning from a trip to New Orleans, where she'd gone on a family vacation.

Jake watched as his friends drank and drank, getting rowdier by the hour. He only wished Mike, who had driven him there, had stayed sober too. Otherwise, it would be a long walk home. He could always call his mom, but he hated to wake her up. Not to mention, his dad would be furious if Jake woke him from his beauty sleep.

The night hit two a.m. before Mike finally decided to call it quits. He staggered over to Jake, fumbling for his keys and slurring, "Less go."

"Uh, why don't I drive, man? You're drunk as a skunk," Jake replied, reaching for the keys. Mike pulled them out of his grasp.

"Hell no. No one drives Bridget. Only me."

"Then I'm not getting in the car with you."

"How the hell you gonna get home? By walkin'?"

"Better than in a body bag," Jake retorted. "Come on, Mike. It's a straight shot down the road to your house, and it's max, three miles. No one's on the roads. I can drive Bridget no problem."

"N. Oooooo. Thas spells nooooo," Mike replied indignantly. "You ain't drivin' my fuckin' truck."

"Then I'm not getting a fucking ride with you. I value my life."

"Fine. Walk home, dickwad."

Jake flipped him off and started the four-mile trek home. He grimaced at the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance, followed by the flashing of menacing lightning. That storm appeared to be rolling in fast if the breeze caressing his skin was anything to go by. Jake wouldn't beat it before he reached home, even if he jogged the entire way there. Maybe he should call his mom...

Reluctantly, Jake pulled out his cell phone and texted Natalie Seresin, asking her to pick him up and praying her insomniac ways held true tonight and that she was up. Thankfully, her response was almost immediate: Of course I can. Where are you?

Giving her instructions on how to reach him, Jake breathed a sigh of relief as he leaned against a tree and waited for her. His senses remained keenly aware of every noise and sight around him. Jake was armed with two pocket knives, a trick Annalise had convinced him would possibly save him if anyone ever attacked. She claimed if the attacker disarmed him with the first knife, the last thing they'd expect is for Jake to whip out a second one. She'd said it so confidently that he believed her logic, whether it was true or not.

Hardly ten minutes later, headlights appeared in the distance, and his mom soon pulled over, allowing him to hop in. Jake settled into the seat and said, "Thank you, Mom. I'm sorry you had to come pick me up. Mike was drinking, and I didn't feel comfortable getting in the car with him."

"You made a good call, sweetie. Never apologize for asking me to pick you up, especially under those circumstances. Did you at least have fun until then?"

Jake shrugged, rolling his window down to get some fresh air. His mom did the same while he said, "Yeah, it wasn't bad. Would've been more fun if Annalise had been there, but she got back from her trip today and wasn't up to it."

"Honey, when are you going to ask her out? You two are practically inseparable. Even when you're not together, you're texting each other and-"

"Moooom," Jake groaned, sliding down into the seat. "We're just-"

"Friends? Jake Glen Seresin, do you really expect me to believe that? Especially with the heart-eyes you give her-"

"Who taught you the term heart-eyes?"

"Your girlfriend," Natalie Seresin chuckled, squinting at the brights of a car coming from the opposite direction.

"She's not my girlfriend!"

"Keep telling yourself- SHIT!"

It happened so fast that Jake had no time to comprehend the situation or its outcomes. The oncoming truck drunkenly swerved into their lane. Natalie had nowhere to go. The vehicle hit theirs, flipping them over the guard rail and into the river below. Jake instinctively covered his head with his arms, only unraveling them after the jarring impact of the truck hitting the water. Dazed, he glanced around, trying to grasp the situation. The cold water spilling into his lap shocked him back to his senses. The bright moonlight illuminated the inside of the sinking vehicle, including his unconscious mother, slumped over the steering wheel with a dark substance covering the side of her face. Jake swiftly unbuckled himself and tried to do the same, but the mechanism wouldn't work. Panicked, he whipped out his knife and furiously cut through the tough material until the strap severed. By now, the water was at their chins and rapidly covering their faces. By the time he maneuvered himself and his mom out of the window, both they and the truck were completely submerged.

"Give her to me!" A man shouted frantically when Jake surfaced. He noticed blue and red lights on the bridge and put two and two together. He handed his mom to the cop and followed him to the embankment. Sirens in the distance could be heard speeding toward them, and within seconds, an ambulance, fire truck, and more cop cars arrived. EMTs swiftly loaded Natalie Seresin onto a gurney, and Jake insisted he go with them, declaring he was fine. Whether that was true or not, he didn't know, but he knew one thing: his mom wasn't.

"Mom? Mom, can you hear me?" Jake begged, grabbing her hand while the EMTs tried to stabilize her. A cop car followed, and when they arrived at the hospital, a policeman halted Jake to get a statement of what had happened.

"My mom, she- she picked me up from a party, and the truck, it-it swerved into our lane and hit us- is my mom going to be all right?" Jake asked worriedly, running a hand through his hair anxiously. "Oh, God..."

"Easy, son. Why don't you take a seat?" The policeman said gently, placing a guiding hand on Jake's shoulder and leading him to a chair. Jake collapsed into it. "Do you have someone you'd like to call?"

"My dad and brothers. They'll-" Jake's heart constricted in fear. His dad would be irate over the situation. The truck might've been at fault, but the accident never would've happened if Jake hadn't called his mom to pick him up. This was his fault, and he dreaded the consequences. Still, he had to tell him.

"Why don't I call them for you? Do you have a phone number?" the cop requested, almost like he could read Jake's train of thought.

"Yes, sir." He rattled off the number, and the cop went to make the call. Jake braced his elbow on his knees and buried his face in his hands, terrified for his mom's wellbeing. If he lost her...

Jake could've sworn only seconds passed before he heard his dad and brothers hollering his name. He glanced up in a daze to see them running up to him. His dad grabbed ahold of his shoulders and demanded, "What the hell happened?"

Jake stammered out the story, terrified by the craze in his dad's eyes. Thankfully, before Michael Seresin could berate him, the cop approached along with a doctor. The men straightened up, impatiently awaiting the news. His mother was in critical condition, but they could visit her two at a time. Michael immediately moved first, but Jake remained seated, knowing he was the last person his dad wanted to go with him.

"You go with Dad," Matt told Nick, sitting beside Jake. "I'll wait here with him."

No one argued. Jake slumped in the chair and stared at the ceiling, blinking back tears. Matt cleared his throat and said, "How you holdin' up?"

Jake didn't respond, not entirely trusting his voice. Matt recognized this and continued. "You were always closest to Mom. Whatever happened, whatever Dad says, I know it's not your fault."

"It is, though," Jake whispered shakily. "I asked her to pick me up. If I'd just sucked it up and walked home, this wouldn't have happened."

"In the middle of the night during a torrential thunderstorm?" Matt glanced out a window nearby when lightning flashed. A thunderclap soon followed, shaking the building. "It would've been dangerous, and Mom would be sick with worry."

"But she'd be safe."

"Jake-"

"You boys want to see her?" Michael asked, uncharacteristically pale and quiet. Matt and Jake nodded, standing up and heading to Natalie's room. Matt entered first, but Jake hung back, wondering if he really wanted to see what he'd done to his mom, to see what shape he'd put her in. How could he have done this? How could he have been so selfish as to ask her for help when he put himself in the position he had?

But what if this was his last chance to see her? What if Natalie didn't make it through this? The more he played the crash and rescue over in his head, the more Jake realized the dark substance he'd seen on her face had been blood. The memory made him nauseous.

With lead feet, Jake moved forward, determined to see his mom despite the guilt threatening to drown him. He'd barely crossed over the threshold when the heart monitor flatlined. Jake distantly heard himself yelling for his mom, rushing toward her only to be blocked by Matt, who practically carried his brother out of the room while nurses and doctors swarmed Natalie Seresin to resuscitate her.

For what felt like hours, Jake watched the medical team try and revive his mom, but at 5:02 a.m., the doctor pronounced her dead. Jake collapsed in a chair, sobs wracking his body. A nurse tried to console him, but her kind words were lost. He'd lost his best friend, the only person in his family who Jake truly believed loved and cared for him. Now, she was gone, and he was on his own. Jake would never see her heartwarming smile or hear her contagious laugh; he would never get to talk to her when he had exciting news or needed to vent; he would never get his mom's comforting hugs or hear her screaming at his football matches.

His mom was gone.

How long he sat there with Matt and Nick, Jake couldn't tell, but he followed their cues, getting up when they did and walking out of the hospital after their dad. However, when they stepped outside and turned to the parking lot, Michael Seresin stopped short and glowered at Jake. "What the hell are you doing?"

"W-what?" Jake stammered, blinking in confusion.

"You think I want you coming home with us after what you've just caused?" Michael demanded, his temper and voice rising. "You got your mother killed!"

Matt stepped forward, holding his hands up placatingly. "Dad, come on, the police said it was a drunk-"

"Shut up!" Michael roared, effectively silencing his eldest son. Turning back to Jake, he pointed an accusatory finger at him and snarled, "I don't want you in my sight right now. I'll tell you when and if you can come home. Do you understand me?"

Jake could only nod, hopelessness now crashing into him alongside the grief. Matt hung back, conflicted between staying with Jake or going to the car with his dad and Nick. Jake noticed and, in a surprisingly steady voice, said, "Go."

"Jake, you shouldn't be alo-"

"Go!" Jake snapped, pointing his finger at the rapidly disappearing Michael and Nick. "Just go. I want nothing to do with any of you."

Matt hesitated once more, reluctantly nodded, then went after the other Seresin men, but he repeatedly looked over his shoulder at Jake, who waited until his family was out of sight before collapsing onto a bench outside the hospital.

There, in front of God and the moon, he quietly wept over losing his mom, wishing the universe had taken him instead of her. It would've been better for everyone that way. His mom would've been devastated for a while, but she would've moved on. After all, she would've had two other sons to take care of. Jake was almost certain his dad wouldn't have cared at all if it had been Jake who died. Even Annalise probably wouldn't care. It didn't matter that he was her closest friend and vice versa. She never wanted to get close to him in the first place.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. Jake ignored it the first time. He ignored it the second time, too, figuring it was Matt trying to call him. But when the person called a third time, he finally answered, "Hello?"

A familiar, worried voice answered, "Jake? Are you okay?"

"Annie?" he croaked. Hearing her caught him off guard. Of all people at this time of day, she was one of the last people he expected to hear from. "What- how did you- are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, but someone texted me saying I needed to call you because your mom just died. Jake, what happened? Are you okay?"

"No. I'm not," he whispered. The story spilled from his lips in between waves of crying. Annalise patiently listened, letting him get through it and stammer out the story. When he finished, he could hear muffled tears on the other end.

"Oh, God, Jake, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. Are you home or still at the hospital?"

"I'm still at the hospital. Dad, he, uh, he said I wasn't welcome home after what I caused."

"You're there alone?!"

"Yeah..."

"Stay there, don't move. I'm coming over. Do you want me to stay on the phone while I drive there?"

"No, no, it's okay. You don't-"

Annalise interrupted him. "You shouldn't be alone right now. I'm coming to take care of you since your dad and brothers won't. Now, do you want me to stay on the phone while I drive there?"

"No. Focus on the road," Jake said, the urge to cry threatening to overwhelm him again, although this time, out of gratefulness for Annalise. What had he done to deserve her? What had Jake been thinking earlier about how she wouldn't care? Of course she would care if he died. That had been his grief talking. He realized that now.

"Okay. If I can't find you when I get there, I'll call you. I'll be there soon. Love you forever."

"Love you always."

Jake hung up and leaned against the wall, staring blankly at the torrential downpour with only the building's overhang to prevent him from getting soaked. The wind caused a chill in the air that would send most people scurrying for a jacket, but Jake hardly felt it. Lightning crackled menacingly above him and struck the ground nearby, but he disregarded the danger it posed, figuring Mother Nature couldn't hurt him near as much as the loss of his mom.

An SUV soon parked in front of the doors, and Annalise hopped out of the car. Jake met her gaze. Seeing her concern, seeing her standing there at the hospital just for him, broke him. The numbness disappeared, and Jake rushed to greet her, sobbing into Annalise's shoulder as she cradled his head and hugged him as tightly.

"I don't know where to go," Jake croaked out when the tears finally abated. He pulled away and wiped them off his face. Annalise was the only person Jake felt comfortable crying in front of. He knew she wouldn't judge him for it. "Dad doesn't want me home right now, if ever, and I don't know what to do because we head to college in a couple weeks, and I need to pack, but now I have to attend Mom's funeral, and-"

"Jake-" Annalise interrupted calmly, garnering his attention. He was shocked to see tear stains on her cheeks. "I think the best thing for you right now is for you to come to my house and get out of this storm. Rest first, and then we can figure out what to do from there, okay?"

"We?"

"You didn't think I would let you go through this all alone, did you? What do we always say?"

"I love you forever."

"Exactly. And I love you always." Annalise smiled softly. "I've got your six. Come on. Let's get home."

The friends slid into the SUV and headed home in the torrential downpour. Jake kept his eyes downcast, unable to look at the road ahead. He'd tried initially, but when panic built in his chest when a car passed them from the opposite direction, he decided against doing that for the rest of the trip. Annalise must've noticed because she reached over and took his hand. As much as he wanted both hands on the wheel, Jake also found comfort in her touch, so he allowed it.

When they arrived at the Blackwood household, the pair shuffled in. Charlie and Jackie were seated at the bar eating breakfast. Jake temporarily wondered where Mr. Blackwood was but figured he was on another business trip. The two women turned around at the sound of the garage door shutting and immediately jumped from their seats at the sight of Annalise and Jake. To his surprise, Charlie went to him first and, without a word, pulled him into a motherly hug. He sank into it. She wasn't his mom, but in this moment, she was the closest thing to one.

"I'm so sorry, sweetie," Charlie whispered. "Whatever you need, we're here for you."

"Thank you, ma'am," he mumbled sincerely, unable to gather the strength to speak any louder. Now that the adrenaline and chaos had subsided, exhaustion swept over Jake.

Charlie pulled away and gently grasped his shoulders. "Why don't you take a shower, and I'll get some spare clothes for you to change into?"

"I can crash in these-"

"Honey, it's not good for you to stay in those clothes any longer."

"Yes, ma'am..."

Mrs. Blackwood smiled sympathetically. "It's always Charlie to you. Get going. You can use our guest room. I'll drop the clothes on your bed."

Jake nodded, thanked her once more, then ambled to his destination. Almost robotically, he shut the bathroom door behind him, stripped his clothes, and stepped into the shower the second he turned it on. The water had yet to warm up, so it felt like small pellets of hail striking his skin for a few seconds, but Jake ignored it, the shock of today still inhibiting most of his senses. He went through the motions of washing his hair and body, turning off the water, drying off, and wrapping the towel around his waist. He peered into the bedroom, saw the door to it shut, and a clean set of clothes lying on the bed. Jake changed into them and folded his dirty suit, placing it on the chair. As he did, he noticed the red stain on the collar of his shirt. Knowing he hadn't been injured or cut in the crash, the only logical conclusion he could form was that it came from his mom when he dragged her out of the wreck.

The accident replayed suddenly in his mind, and Jake collapsed onto the bed, burying his face in his hands while he quietly sobbed. A few moments later, the mattress sank in beside him. He looked up to find Annalise; she had tears in her eyes, but her voice was steady when she said, "I, uh, I brought you some tea. Chamomile. It's supposed to help calm anxiety. I figured after the night you've had..."

Jake reached for the mug on his nightstand, staring at the amber liquid. "Thank you. For everything."

"I'm glad I was able to be there. I'll let you get some rest. I just wanted to drop this off and check on you one more time."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Who told you what happened? Where I was?"

"I don't know. They called me until I picked up. When I finally did, they hung up. But I saw a text from the same number giving me a brief sitrep and your location. I called you right after."

"What's the number?" Jake asked, frowning. Annalise pulled out her phone and rattled it off, and surprisingly, Jake recognized it. "That's Matt's number. He didn't want to leave me, but I yelled at him to..."

"I'll let him know you're here and safe. I'm sure he's worried." Annalise put her phone back into her pocket. "I'll leave you alone-"

"No, no. I don't- could you stay for a bit?"

"Of course," Annalise replied without hesitation. She crawled to the other side of the bed and leaned against the headboard. Jake sidled next to her, his arm brushing hers. "Do you want the TV on or no?"

"You can watch it; I don't mind."

Annalise nodded and turned it on. She flipped through the channels until she landed on Hallmark. Jake watched it with her in silence. Slowly, his eyelids became heavier and heavier, he started sliding down unintentionally under the covers, and his head lolled onto Annalise's shoulder. Once that happened, Jake was out like a light. The last thing he remembered was feeling the weight of his friend's head resting atop his and thinking how she was the only rock in his life now. Without her, God only knows what would happen to him.

****

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