Nigerian Talented gospel music group Savannah Worship offers up a brand new song titled, “Jesus”.
The group reported, “The Priest of Praise anchors us, and our mission is to take the gospel to the ends of the earth with signs and wonders through music and creative arts, affirming the word of God on our lips, creating atmospheres for intimacy with God.
The song Jesus comes from the recently…
[Music + Lyrics] Jesus - Savannah Worship via [@amenradio1] Cc: @studio6naija #AmenRadio #AmenRadio1
Download: Jesus – Savannah Worship
Nigerian gospel choir Savannah Worship releases a brand new single titled, “Jesus”.
According to the group, “The Priest of Praise anchors us, and our mission is to take the gospel to the ends of the earth with signs and wonders through music and creative arts, affirming the word of God on our lips, creating atmospheres for intimacy with God.”
The single comes…
*slides in on a magical flying donut* We, the worshippers of the Second Son, Charlotte Katakuri, truly appreciate your generous, yet sinful donation to our humble church. As a way to return that charity, we have come bearing a gift of the holy Law himself 🙏💗 Though it may not be something... innocent... I certainly do hope the House of the Holy Law accept this gift as a token of our thanks, may Law be with you, always 💗
*all the roses in The House of the Holy Law suddenly fruitfully bloom with an intense aroma* The House of the Second Son and his most ardent worshipper is very gracious, indeed 😳🥵😏🥰 As the Holy Law’s Maiden of Lawful Sacrament, I will gratefully accept this token of charity and maybe even immortalize it into stained glass for our private chapel 🙏🏻🌹🌹
Before I forget, amen to Cavendish, the Ultimate Deity of Primordial Beauty for bestowing upon me the holy rose and the ability to manifest in the very blossoms at my whim 🙏🏻📿🌹 I am happy you wholly received my indulgent delivery and enjoyed it. Now I must exuent, for I am due to perform my private ritual worship of the Holy Law, who desires to bestow upon me many scarlet marks —I mean sacred roses—of his own 😏🌹 I hope you & the girls didn’t tell him about that moodboard or else I may be due for some decadent and meticulous punishment I’d gladly endure Hell for him, so his hell is only a piece of heaven to me 🔥
#michelle muses#savannah 🍩 #a true blessing thank you #no holy tea nor roses can redeem me now #i must kneel before the Holy Law and pray for forgiveness #i must lay earnest and passionate worship to him #if anyone needs me i’ll be in the private chapel #holy tea hours #decadent sins#ask
Emily Prentiss is so pretty, I could stare at her for hours and hours, she's the exact type of female representation that would make me want copy everything about her (her clothes, her hair, her speech patterns) if I were younger - and still aspire to be tbh - because I was 100% that kid that got their personality from fictional characters growing up
also her swearing because of frustration at not catching UnSubs is ✨chefs kiss ✨
I love Spence and Penelope, but Emily just hits different. We need more Emily variants on media
#emily prentiss #im open to recs of characters with the same vibe as her for my next obsession #we simp for spencer but we worship emily prentiss in this house #no slander for any of the bau ladies in this household #except maybe ashley seaver because writers did her dirty and gave her zero personality #no hate on haley savannah or other love interests as well #we drink respect women juice around here
Also I was stupid cause I admitted to my mom I don’t want to hang out with people who would want my friends existence to be illegal
She assumed i meant immigrants and got upset like “no they don’t and I don’t have a problem with them if they are here legaly” and cut her off. Knowing I couldn’t say “their gay” I just went. “I meant they have different views to conservative areas”
Which went into a thing about how she hates how “i was changed by going to grad school” and about how I’ll be hurt one fay woth these liberal views and how they can’t take any slight criticism and how she wish she could help me not be that way. And that generally people who disagree with thag alright. Also asking if I still pray or believe in god cause clearly you can only be a christian if you are conservative or straight.
Wasn’t stupid enough to out kyself but yeah. All that happens anytime I vaguely mention I have different views to people in this area and don’t like having to pretend different. But my side is the one that gets upset too easy. Yeah. Also the part where “they don’t hate you for having different opinions it’s just liberals are evil and get upset at the tiniest things etc etc.”
#venting#conservative #also known as why i dont come oht to my family #i would say #homophobia #exactly since that was never mentioned #just lots of implications on how she thinks #all liberals are satan worshipping baby killers who get upset if you say the word boo #though she doesn’t straight say that #just implies it by being horrified i was ruined in savannah #and constantly asking when this comes up #if i still believe in god
DIRTY IS OUR CUSHION AND PORTION-Mountain top grace and snow thrift shines of glory,Land marked by rocks and stumps of of old eras,Lowlands and savannahs for farmers and wildebeests to farm and roam,A little time in infinitesimal calendar for man’s sip of earthly passage,To look at the levels of self absorption and peculiar self worship –To hear the thunder emanating from small throats of…
Happy Friday, yall! Thanks for being patient with me on the last couple of chapters. I’ve been super busy lately, so the next few updates (only six chapters left after this!) might have to be spaced out a little more. I’m thinking every three weeks instead of every two, but of course, you’ll get it early if I finish early.
Here’s the next installment in our journey. Let me know what you think in your comments and reblogs! And check out my masterlist if you haven’t already for some reason. Enjoy! 😘
Word count: 7,729
CW: blood, death
A few thousand years ago, Bast and Sekhmet had an argument that nearly caused all of Africa to rip in half. The two sisters were constantly at each other's throats, but this time their father, Ra, had to step in and separate them. He had grown tired of their bickering, so to teach them a lesson, he sent them both away from home and told them not to return until they learned how to get along. Neither wanted to travel with the other, but Ra insisted because he knew his daughters needed the push before things got too out of hand.
When the sisters made their way earthside, the first beings they encountered were aziza. The friendly beings took the two young goddesses in and provided them with food and shelter for as long as they wanted to stay. Bast was grateful for their kindness, but Sekhmet mistook their hospitality for a weakness she could exploit. Instead of interacting with the aziza, Sekhmet holed herself up in her hut, plotting how to take over. Little did she know that while she spent her days making plans of domination, her sister was doing just that without even trying. Bast’s growing relationship with the aziza gave birth to their unwavering belief in her, and the more faith they had, the stronger she became. Her abilities surpassed her sister’s in just a few short weeks, and when Sekhmet finally learned of her strengthened powers, she concluded Bast must have enchanted the aziza somehow. She cursed at herself for not having thought of it first.
Sekhmet’s attitude became more and more of a problem as Bast flexed her new skills. She’d scoff when her sister would make flowers bloom or roll her eyes when she’d heal the sick. The aziza were in complete awe of her, but Sekhmet felt it was all just an act. Her perfect sister, baba’s favorite, always had to be the center of attention, so when the aziza begged Bast to stay, Sekhmet didn’t even take it personally.
The final nail in the coffin of their relationship came when Bast gifted the aziza with some of her magic. Sekhmet was beside herself that night. She couldn’t stand that her sister was being so generous because she had convinced herself that Bast was only doing it to be manipulative. Truthfully, Sekhmet had always thought that of her, but Bast never actually had those intentions. She tried to explain that to Sekhmet, but the stubborn older goddess wouldn’t listen. After yet another argument, Sekhmet used what little magic she had to create her own small realm and disappeared into it, leaving her sister and the aziza behind.
Sekhmet was all alone for the first time in her life, but that didn’t matter because she preferred the loneliness of her new home over watching the aziza worship her sister. Anger and jealousy consumed her for years, but she passed the time by growing wheat to make beer and watching the goings-on in the world through a watering hole she had enchanted with her rudimentary magical powers. Sekhmet had no visitors, which was probably for the best because her wrath would occasionally consume her, and she’d burn the entire savannah to the ground only to let it all grow back to its former, flammable glory.
Thousands of years passed without Sekhmet having contact with the other realms, so when she heard a man call out to her for protection in his time of need, she ignored him, too bogged down by self-doubt and beer. After a few months, one sober moment of decision-making had her checking in on her worshipper to see what he wanted, but too much time had passed. He was gone, murdered by his own brother… her sister’s champion. Sekhmet watched as his young son cradled his body in his hands and allowed a new emotion to fuel another fiery destruction of her savannah: guilt.
Sekhmet sobered up for good after that and kept tabs on the young boy as he grew. She’d pop into his dreams from time to time, and as he got older, she guided him towards his destiny —towards their destiny. With him on the throne, she could finally have the foothold in Wakanda that she lost all those years ago.
That was the plan, anyway.
Failure. That was all Sekhmet felt when T’Challa’s blade ripped through N’Jadaka’s heart. Never mind that he survived; she lost him the moment his cousin offered him a second chance. Just hours earlier, she had been on top of the world. Sekhmet had cheered as she watched T’Challa’s body fly over the waterfall, and she cackled as her sister’s precious heart-shaped herbs went up in flames. N’Jadaka was supposed to be her foot in the door, but his disloyalty and weakness disgusted her. She hadn’t felt that much anger since she first isolated herself and nearly decimated her entire realm in a fit that lasted for three days until she heard her name once again.
“Mighty Sekhmet, fierce warrior and protector, I pray to you,” the silky voice echoed through the goddess’ head, pulling her from her rage-fueled daze.
She thought it would be another millennium before she heard from someone again, but this voice calling out to her was so commanding, so confident. Sekhmet tried to fight her curiosity, but she lost the battle and couldn’t help but slink over to the watering hole to get a good look at whoever was calling her. As she stepped closer, the smell of fresh blood tickled her snout and drew her in like a magnet.
“Please take this offering so that you may see I am truly at your service.”
The voice grew stronger, and Sekhmet touched the water's surface with her paw. The image that the ripples carried across the water made Sekhmet’s jaw drop. This person who wanted to be her devotee, who was willing to kill in her name and sacrifice for her… this person was an aziza.
Sekhmet’s lips pulled back in a snarling smile as she stood up on her hind legs and transformed into her hybrid body. Her lion face remained menacing while her muscular human body stood firm and powerful in her lapis lazuli beaded kalasiris. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to shimmer from the realm that had become her home over the years. When she opened them, Sekhmet could see the other realms around her as she floated in the in-between, taking a moment to remind herself that she was that bitch once upon a time, before reaching out to the magic realm and shimmering into the same dark cavern that she saw in the water.
Before her was an aziza on her knees facing a statue of Sekhmet, but the smell of copper in the air grabbed the goddess’ attention before anything else. A trail of blood led to the altar, and on the other end laid the corpse of another aziza, a young one. Her throat had been slashed from ear to ear, and the blood that pooled around her made Sekhmet lick her lips. It had been too long since she’d tasted blood, but she pulled her focus away from the sacrifice and studied the impressive set of red wings currently meditating in front of her likeness.
“What do you want?” Sekhmet asked, startling the aziza. She turned around and pushed her amber locs out of her eyes that blew wide upon seeing the goddess in the flesh.
“Sekhmet!” She bowed in her direction. “I-I did not expect you to-”
“Who are you?”
“I am Asha, Aziza Queen of the Magic Realm.”
Now it was Sekhmet’s turn to be surprised.
“The queen, huh?” She looked Asha up and down. It had been a few hundred years since she last paid attention to who was ruling over the magic realm, but one thing she knew for sure was that they were always as annoyingly dedicated to her sister as the humans were.
“Yes, my goddess.”
Hearing those words made Sekhmet’s skin tingle, so she allowed them to wash over her for a moment while she paced around the cavern.
“I always assumed your palace would be brighter.”
“It is upstairs, but this is my private sanctum-”
“Where you slaughter your servants to summon me for… what, exactly?”
“I have an offer to make you.”
Asha stood to her full height and gestured for Sekhmet to sit on the throne of obambo skulls she had fashioned after the war. The goddess appraised the macabre sight and fought a smirk from her face as she made herself comfortable. She could already tell she liked this new prospective devotee.
“I got word from my informants that there was a new human king, an outsider who wanted to help his people, and an idea sparked inside me,” Asha started as she handed the chalice full of blood to Sekhmet.
“And that was?”
“Well, since we only separated from them because of their refusal to help the outside, I thought-”
“You thought you’d reunite the realms,” Sekhmet chortled. “And how did my sister take your little idea?”
“She disapproved. She was worried about the wellbeing of the humans since they are unaware of our existence, and unable to see my vision properly.”
“Us living in harmony again.”
Sekhmet full-on laughed in Asha’s face, but the queen didn’t waver.
“I know it is a lot to ask-”
“It is impossible. My sister will never allow-”
“Which is why I need you. Bast is too close to the humans… she babies them, coddles her precious king. She always has, but you? You keep your distance, so you can be more objective than she can.”
“My opinion matters not. I have no sway over my sister.”
“I do not want you to change her mind.”
“Then what do you want?”
“Wakanda united under my rule by any means necessary.”
Sekhmet tilted her head to the side and examined the queen’s unwavering demeanor.
“And you think a little dark magic will get my sister to bend to your will?”
“No, I think that between the two of us, we could get Bast to step down and make room for a new dynasty… yours and mine.”
Sekhmet’s fingers flexed on the armrests at the promise of power.
“You want me to replace my sister?” she asked for clarification, and Asha nodded in response.
“No reign should last forever.”
“Interesting words coming from a queen.”
Sekhmet took a sip of the blood and smiled as it slid down her throat. It was still warm.
“A queen who will die one day,” Asha stated, as though death were a badge of honor.
“Probably sooner than you think if you plan to go after your precious goddess.”
“She is not my goddess.”
Sekhmet looked at her curiously for a moment.
“And I am?”
“If you will have me.”
Sekhmet smirked at Asha’s tenacity and probed a little deeper.
“Why should I trust you?”
“Because you need me, too.”
“For what, exactly?”
“I know how your power works; it’s reciprocal. The more worshippers you have, the stronger you get, right?”
Sekhmet nodded as she swallowed another gulp of blood.
“What if I could guarantee you an army of followers?”
“I would say you are being too ambitious.”
Asha smiled, but there was no joy anywhere on her face.
“Are you familiar with obambo?”
“They are a hive-mind; dozens of parts of one whole just itching to expand their reach. Since I defeated his efforts to overthrow me, their king and I have come to an understanding.”
Sekhmet sat up straighter, her interest piqued.
“What sort of understanding?”
“The kind where he is willing to put his, and therefore their, faith in you. And whoever they possess, which could mean hundreds, maybe even thousands of worshippers if I can master blood magic-”
“There is always a catch… what is it?”
“Every dark aziza in history has failed. The powers consume them and drive them mad or workings backfire somehow, and I think it has to do with Bast’s magic. But if you were to gift me some of yours-”
Sekhmet threw back the rest of the blood, swallowing it all in one gulp before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Please, my goddess, I am not asking for all of it, just a tiny piece. Just enough for me to pull from when I need something that Bast’s magic cannot provide.”
The words “my goddess” echoed through Sekhmet’s head, and she daydreamed about what it would be like to have worshippers. Aziza, obambo, maybe some humans, and whatever else they conquered together. She could finally have Wakanda, but first, as much as she hated to admit it, she needed Asha. This was Sekhmet’s third chance, and she was determined not to blow it this time.
“You will need a death flower and more blood,” the goddess said with a dismissive wave, attempting to maintain a nonchalant facade despite the rising fear of failing again.
Asha’s whole body lit up, and she fell to her knees on the cold, hard ground at Sekhmet’s feet.
“Ngyibonga, unkulunkulukazi wami!”
“But you will not be just any devotee.”
The queen looked up at her goddess with confusion scribbled between her brows, and Sekhmet continued with a sinister smile, “You will be my priestess.”
The gang didn’t stay at Asha’s palace for long, opting instead to spend as little time there as possible in case she came back, but more than anything, Nia and Amare just couldn’t stomach being around so much dark magic. They all walked back to the Talon in silence, each of their brains riddled with questions they had no way of answering.
“We need to go see Mandla.” Amare found the strength to speak just before they loaded onto the aircraft, his belly still turning somersaults.
“Who is Mandla?” T’Challa asked.
“My former boss. Headquarters isn’t too far from here… they need to know what’s going on.”
“Would he even be there this time of night?” Nia asked.
“Probably not.” Amare reached into his pocket and pulled out a flat river stone. He held it in his hand and looked around for a moment before spotting a small stream. He walked over and crouched down before bringing the stone to his lips and whispering, “Mandla Danangu, ngiyacela.”
The stone began to vibrate, then it shot up into the air, hovering inches above his palm before plopping into the water below. The humans watched over Amare’s shoulder in awe as the stone twirled around and around until a tiny whirlpool appeared in the stream. When it settled, a graying, older aziza with piercing, almost black eyes, a long salt and pepper beard that matched his long cornrowed hair, and large white wings came into view.
“Amare Olu,” he greeted his caller fondly with a lopsided smirk. “It is good to see you. You look well for a bald man.”
Amare chuckled, “Thank you, Mandla. You don’t look a day over seventy.”
“I’m sixty-two,” the older man groaned and narrowed his eyes. “And I know you didn’t call to insult me.”
“No,” Amare’s voice hardened, “not this time, I’m afraid.”
“What is it?”
“Are you at the office?”
“Yes, you caught me right as I was packing up.”
“Could you stay for ten more minutes? I’m on my way.”
“Of course. Is something wrong?”
“I’ll explain when I get there. Oh, and I’m bringing Nia and some humans with me.”
“Humans?! Have you lost-”
Amare reached into the water and grabbed the stone, cutting Mandla off before he could protest the visitors. The stone started buzzing in his hand immediately, but he ignored Mandla’s call and placed it back in his pocket, turning around and facing the rest of the group, most of whom were still staring at the water, slack-jawed at the magical display.
“We have to get moving,” Amare ordered before marching towards the Talon, with Nia and the humans on his heels.
Okoye flew them close to the city, and they walked the rest of the way through the streets of Birnin Umlingo. M’Baku, N’Jadaka, Okoye, and Ayo couldn’t believe what they were seeing. They passed about a dozen different species on their trek, each one more fantastical than the last. M’Baku’s gap-toothed smile was a sight to see, and he could have lit up all of Wakanda with his childlike wonder, his head swiveling around as he tried to take in every detail that he could. N’Jadaka and Okoye were nearly immobilized by their astonishment, and Ayo was overcome with emotion that she was fighting to contain behind her eyes. However, as much as T’Challa enjoyed watching the others react to their magical surroundings, he was acutely aware that they were being watched by others as well. He looked down at Nia and could tell by the way her body had tensed-up that she had noticed it, too. Several people tossed curious glances their way as they passed, but there were a few sets of eyes that stayed glued to them in a way that felt too intrusive to be just inquisitiveness.
Amare hustled the group through the busy city center, and they arrived at a grove of large trees with an enormous office building built around the trunks, extending almost all the way up into the canopy. Outside stood a very irritated Mandla. He hated being cut off, but more importantly, he was not happy with the presence of the humans. They could almost see the steam pouring out of his ears as they approached.
“Amare, what in Bast’s name-”
“She’s gone, Mandla.”
“Bast,” Nia chimed in.
“Can we go inside?” Amare asked, looking over his shoulder at a suspicious pair of white-eyed uhlakanyana that had been watching them ever since they walked up. “I’ll explain more when I know it’s safe to do so.”
Mandla examined Amare for a moment before nodding and leading the group through the wooden doors and into the office. Despite the late hour, it was still busy, but everything seemed to stop when the humans walked in.
“Ungabanaki,” Mandla ordered, and the aziza all averted their eyes to their workstations.
N’Jadaka was the only one who didn’t speak Zulu, so he tapped Nia on the shoulder and asked, “What’d he say?”
“I said, ‘ignore them,’ prince,” Mandla answered with a surprisingly warm tone without even turning around. Okoye and M’Baku smirked at the confused expression that took over N’Jadaka’s face, but they were equally curious about how Mandla knew who was speaking.
The walk to the center of the office was tense. Every aziza they passed stared at them questioningly out of the corner of their eyes, and they all tried not to notice. After what felt like an eternity, they made it to a circular room in the center of the space with glass walls surrounding it, and Mandla shut the door behind them. The glass fogged from the ground up, and seconds later, the walls were an opaque white.
“Now, what is this about?”
“Well, first, this is-”
“I know who these people are, Olu, but why are they here?” Mandla snapped. “The queen-”
“Is behind Bast’s disappearance and has disappeared herself.”
Mandla felt the wind knock out of him as if someone had punched him in the gut, and looked at each of their faces as he lowered himself into his chair. He saw the sincerity written there and did the unthinkable: he believed them.
“Tell me everything.”
So they did, and by the time they finished, Mandla was pacing behind his desk, his hand running over his braids while he reflected on their words. He was quiet, but the way his face contorted every few seconds told them he was still processing the wealth of information they had just dropped on him. Nobody spoke or even moved until Mandla stopped pacing and faced the group again.
“We have no government,” he stated, his voice sober with responsibility.
“No government and no god,” Nia clarified with a heavy heart.
“If I may-”
“You may not,” Mandla all but snarled at M’Baku.
“Mandla, he is here to help,” Amare sighed.
“Help? His kind wants to help now?” Mandla laughed.
“Aight, hold up, man-”
“No, prince, I will not. You fraternize with those who, just over a year ago, would not blink an eye in your direction because of your ‘outsider’ lineage. That is your choice, but there is nothing these traitors have to offer me.”
“How do y’all even know about all that if you’re in a whole other realm?”
“We have operatives stationed all over the globe, including some in Wakanda that keep us abreast of the petty human drama.”
“Mandla, things are different now,” Nia explained. “T’Challa’s opening Outreach Centers all over the world, the Jabari have rejoined the other tribes-”
“I am aware, but none of that would have happened without the king nearly dying.”
“Look, I know I’m the last nigga to tell you to let go of a grudge, but at least direct it at the right person,” N’Jadaka grumbled, surprising everyone with his advice. “T’s doing what he can.”
“You’re right,” Mandla sighed. “My apologies, King T’Challa. Your efforts are greatly appreciated. We have observed your programs, and they seem effective so far.”
“Thank you, Mandla.”
The older aziza nodded at the king and sent a sharp look M’Baku’s way, still not ready to forgive his inactions.
“So, what do we do now?” Nia asked, bringing their collective attention back to the problem at hand.
“Now we go on red alert, bring as many operatives home as possible. We need an army, one that can stand a chance against Asha’s magic… and I would love it if a certain somebody came out of retirement for this.”
Mandla faced Amare and sent him a pointed look with his eyebrows raised almost to his hairline.
“Mandla, I couldn’t. It’s been too long. Besides, Nia-”
“Is grown now and no longer a valid excuse,” Mandla finished his sentence, staring him down unblinkingly.
Amare sighed and thought about the proposition, even though it felt more like an order. An order he was more than willing to take, but he felt his years out of commission left him rusty. Rusty, but he knew he still had some moves. In fact, the more he thought about it, he realized he really missed the job. Amare had loved it so much once upon a time, but he hadn’t allowed himself to entertain the idea of going back since Nia was born. A small part of him missed the action, and a tiny grin crept up into the right corner of his mouth when he thought of getting back into the fray. Almost instinctively, Amare stood at attention and nodded crisply in Mandla’s direction.
“Reporting for duty, ubasi.”
Mandla smiled and grabbed his forearm to pull him into a hug, happy to have one of his most renowned operatives back on the team. More importantly, he was over the moon at the prospect of working with his friend again. He had missed their short-lived time working with each other before Amare was stationed in New York, and although the current circumstances left a lot to be desired, Mandla had faith that he and Amare could handle the impending storm together.
Nobody expected the rivers to be the first to change, but it happened overnight with no one on land feeling a thing. Sirin and other aquatic beings felt the rupture in the veil, and arrived in the human realm the day after Asha disappeared. Their very presence wreaked havoc on the citizens of Wakanda almost immediately. Drowning deaths increased tenfold in the first few days alone, and the people demanded the king do something about the “river monsters.” After yet another grueling press conference to discuss the arrival of the new beings and explain the veils, T’Challa introduced Nia and Amare to the country as official liaisons to the magic realm.
The next thing Nia knew, her face was on every news report and gossip blog… again. She preferred the first time when they were speculating about her relationship with the king to now when they were questioning whether she had him under a spell. It didn’t help that T’Challa had assigned Ayo to be her personal Dora again, so the entire country knew their relationship was more than just professional.
Between the near-constant strategizing meetings with The Squad, as N’Jadaka had called their group, interviews with media outlets, and her practice, Nia was running on fumes by the end of the week. She didn’t have time to rest, though, because Amita and Shuri came over every day after her last patient left, and they worked for hours. Shuri would bring some lab equipment and observe them like an experiment, scribbling notes while analyzing substances and scanning their bodies as Amita taught Nia how to defend herself against dark magic. In the few short days since they had started, Nia had learned to make several antidote potions and a reversal spell, but the one thing she desperately wanted to do, she couldn’t quite achieve.
Shuri, Ayo, and Amita could all tell that something was bothering Nia, but it was Amita that finally spoke up as they finished their lesson for the day.
“What’s with you today?” Amita asked, folding her arms over her leather-bound chest.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you’re doing all this cool magic stuff, but you don’t seem excited by it,” Shuri added.
“Ugh,” Nia groaned and sank deeper into her plush purple couch, propping her feet up on the coffee table. “It’s my hands.”
“What about them?”
Nia explained what happened that day in Daga’s office and again in T’Challa’s room. Shuri looked like she was about to throw up, but she held it together better than Ayo, whose eyes blew wide, having never heard of her king being in such danger. Nia swore her to secrecy, though; she didn’t need Okoye finding out and having a heart attack.
“And then just the other day, with N’Jadaka’s exorcism, I had all these colors flowing through me… and now I can’t even get them to just turn red.”
“You are not in the right headspace, Nia,” Ayo explained.
“What do you mean?”
“From what you told us, you have to be pushed to the brink of wanting to snap and hurt someone before that happens… we just need to figure out how to get you there without those same triggers.”
“You make it sound so easy,” Nia scoffed.
“I’m sure it won’t be, but it’s worth a shot.” Amita stood from the rocking chair by the window. “Alright, get up.”
“Wh- it’s almost seven. I’m tired!”
“I know, but come on. Just one last thing.” Amita held her hands out, and Nia took them, standing to her full height with a whine on her lips. “Close your eyes.”
Nia followed her instructions, and her already heavy eyelids shut tight.
“Now, I want you to visualize Daga’s office just like it was that day you were in there. You see it?”
“Ok, do you see the bouda attacking T’Challa?”
“Yebo,” Nia answered through gritted teeth.
“And the one that attacked you. Are they there?”
Nia nodded, her face set in a scowl.
“Ok, now picture his hand around your throat again. You see T’Challa being attacked, but you can’t do anything about it because you’re going to lose consciousness soon. You’re angry, scared, and want revenge for what they haven't taken from you yet… you have to watch the man you love bleed out. You’ll never see your ubaba again, your patients… Sego- ah!”
Nia’s eyes flew open when she felt it, that burning tingle in her palms that she had only felt twice before. She released Amita’s hands and stared down at her own as they glowed a bright red. She ran to the kitchen and picked up a banana on her counter, watching it blister and burn until it was a shriveled shell of itself. A tear came to her eye, and she looked up at the others with a huge smile on her face before she realized what had happened.
“Your hands,” she gasped and dropped the banana back on the counter.
“They’ve seen worse,” Amita shrugged. Nia had burned through the leather gloves and scalded her already damaged skin.
“Still,” Nia extinguished her red glow and focused back on centering herself. Her hands turned purple, and there was a knock at the door. She recognized the rhythm immediately and smiled as she took Amita’s hands in hers. “Come in!”
The door swung open, and a surprisingly chipper-looking T’Challa strolled into the home, but he paused when he saw Nia healing Amita’s hands.
“What happened here?”
“Your girlfriend burned her,” Shuri tattled.
“How do you accidentally burn somebody?”
Nia let go of Amita’s healed hands and closed her eyes, focusing her emotions and energy for a moment before the tingle returned. When she opened her eyes, T’Challa was staring back with stars in his irises.
“We got it to work!” she squealed.
“That’s amazing, sithandwa.”
“So, how’s your day been, king?” Amita asked as she flexed her newly healed fingers. “You look too happy for someone whose country is in chaos.”
T’Challa chuckled at Amita’s observation.
“It has been another rough one, but the tribes have accepted the aziza operatives, so hopefully, with their help, we can curb some of the growing pains.”
“That’s one way to put it,” Amita mumbled as she grabbed her bag. “Anyway, it’s getting late, so I’ll catch you tomorrow, Nia. See you, king, princess, Ayo.”
“Thank you for today, Amita,” Nia called after her.
“No problem,” Amita said with a wink, closing the door behind her.
As soon as the door shut, T’Challa turned to Ayo.
“Why don’t you escort my sister back home? We will be fine for the night.” He dismissed her from her duties, and the warrior saluted him.
“You can’t just kick me out. This isn’t your home,” Shuri pouted with her arms crossed over her chest.
Shuri rolled her eyes and packed up her belongings.
“I’m only leaving because I don’t want to be scarred for life by whatever you're about to do,” she fussed before turning to Nia. “See you in the lab tomorrow?”
“I can’t wait!”
“What are you two doing in the lab?”
“None of your business, nosy,” Shuri shoulder-checked him on the way out the door, flinching when he flicked her arm. “Ouch! I’m telling mama.”
“Fine. I will just tell her you’re seeing someone.”
Shuri’s entire face cracked.
“How do you know about that?!”
T’Challa laughed and pushed her out the door after Ayo, closing it behind them. He came down from his fit and turned around to look at Nia, his eyes traveling up her daishiki-covered body and landing on her luscious lips.
“So, it’s like that?” she asked knowingly, as he stalked closer to her.
“Mhm.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her flush against his body while her fingers found their way to his curls. “I haven’t seen you since yesterday. That’s too long.”
“You can manage,” Nia teased with a smile before pulling him down to meet her eager lips.
“You know, if you moved into the-”
“I am just saying. It would be safer.”
“I could get to you much quicker if something happened.”
Nia sighed. She understood where he was coming from, but she was too tired to have this argument for the fifth time. Letting Ayo watch her like a child was compromise enough, but sleeping in the palace was still out of the question for Nia.
“I’m just not ready to go back yet.”
T’Challa nodded and kissed her forehead, also not willing to get into it again.
“I understand, sithandwa.”
“So, why are you in such a good mood?”
The mischievous smile returned to T’Challa’s face.
“You are a fan of N’Miya, right?”
Nia pulled back and looked at him like he’d grown another pair of eyes.
“You mean the best Wakandan singer of our generation? Uh, obviously!”
His smile spread even wider, and Nia almost couldn’t take the anticipation that began building in her regarding the next words out of his mouth. She knew there was a performance tonight in Birnin Zana, but there was no way, not with everything going on. He wouldn’t… would he?
“Why?” she asked expectantly.
“We’re going to her concert tonight. Go get ready.”
“What?” Nia’s eyes nearly bulged from their sockets and had she been drinking anything at that moment, it would have sprayed from her lips. “I thought it was sold out!”
“I’m the king, Nia,” T’Challa laughed and slapped her on the ass. “Now, go. You have an hour.”
“I can’t believe the world is falling apart, and you decide to take me on a date,” Nia mused as she held onto T’Challa’s waist while they zoomed towards Birnin Zana on the back of his hoverbike.
“We can go back if you prefer-”
“No!” Nia held him tighter and burrowed her face into his back, not caring about her face paint one bit. “I want to see N’Miya.”
“I thought so.”
“I hope she does ‘Prowl.’ I love that one.”
Nia continued to wax poetic about her favorite local artist for the entire ride and only stopped when T’Challa pulled up to an abandoned maglev train station on the outskirts of town.
“Why are we stopping here?”
“Your chariot awaits.”
T’Challa gestured ahead to the station, and Nia’s whole body lit up when she noticed the vacant maglev train waiting for them.
“We’re riding the train?”
She squeezed him tight and kissed him just behind his ear.
“You’re getting it so good tonight!”
T’Challa chuckled and helped her off the hoverbike, his eyes gliding over every exposed inch of her smooth skin that looked even deeper than usual against her cream-colored romper. He was already planning on how to get her out of it in their VIP box, or at the very least, push it to the side a little so he could get to her treasure trove.
“I’ll hold you to that.”
“I bet you will,” Nia leaned in and kissed his lips before instinctively checking to make sure her headwrap was still in place, forgetting that she had gone without it since her secret was out. “But first, the train!”
T’Challa intertwined their fingers just in time for Nia to take off, dragging him along behind her. The doors swished open before them, and the pristine station came into view. It felt so empty without all the people rushing around like Nia had seen in movies.
“Where is everybody?” Nia asked.
“This location’s been closed for remodeling for weeks now, and we are about to be the first two people to ride the brand new train,” T’Challa explained as their footsteps echoed through the station, pointing at the silver traincar that awaited their arrival.
Nia marveled at the way it floated inches above the tracks before the sight of beautiful blooms inside caught her eye. The train car was full of flame lilies, her favorite flower.
“T’Challa, you didn’t,” she gasped before rushing over to see if her eyes were deceiving her. They weren’t, so she reached out to caress the wavy red petals, each one seeming to caress her right back.
The king just smiled and leaned against the train door, watching her glow with excitement. When she turned around and caught his eye, all she could do was smile back. He walked over towards her and tipped her chin up towards him, placing a gentle kiss on her lips.
“I’m glad you like them.”
“You know I’m keeping these, right?”
He chuckled and kissed her again, this time with a heat that made Nia’s entire body come alive. She wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled him in closer when an automated voice rang out and instructed them to move away from the doors, startling Nia.
“Pick a seat.”
Nia kissed him one last time before looking around the decorated space, her eyes landing on a spot by the window on the left side of the train. Before she could even say anything, T’Challa swept her into his arms and carried her over to the seat, sitting with her in his lap.
“Perfect,” she giggled.
The train took off from the station and emerged from the tunnel into the night air. Nia’s eyes were wide as she stared out the window at the passing buildings. She had seen them from the ground, and she had even seen them from up above in the Talon, but something about being among the twinkling city lights made Nia feel like a kid again. She forgot about the veils for a few minutes and let her mind wander, making up stories about the people they passed and what their lives could entail. All that grounded her to this reality was the smell of the flame lilies surrounding her and the feel of T’Challa’s arms around her waist. When they arrived at the arena, Nia almost didn’t want to leave her comfortable seat and her view of the city, but the sound of cheering outside the venue reminded her why they were there.
T’Challa led Nia into the arena through a private entrance that led straight to their box seats in a secluded balcony. Nia sang every note that night. She was so into it, that T’Challa didn’t even bother trying to get some, he just watched her sing and dance to the choreography she knew by heart. About halfway through the concert, he decided to take Nia backstage and let her meet N’Miya after the show, but right as she started singing Nia’s favorite song, a familiar feeling washed over him. Nia stopped singing and looked at him in horror; she had felt it too. In fact, it seemed that everyone in the arena did, but they were the only two that recognized the sensation. It phased nobody else, so the concert continued after a brief moment of confusion, but Nia and T’Challa knew their free time was over.
They rushed out of the arena and made their way to the mostly empty streets when a scream pierced the air. T’Challa’s suit covered his body in a flash, and they whipped around to see a snarling panther stalking towards a group of young women. He took off towards it and called over his shoulder at Nia as she ran behind him, “Call the animal sanctuary and tell them we need a tranq-”
The panther heard T’Challa and turned around, stopping them in their tracks. Glowing red eyes stared back at them.
“Shit,” they cursed in unison.
The possessed panther growled and charged, meeting T’Challa in the middle in a whirlwind of teeth and claws. Nia searched her mind for what to do, but death was the only solution she knew for obambo possession, aside from godly intervention.
“You have to kill it!” she shouted as she moved closer to the women, watching carefully as T’Challa tried to get a hold of the beast’s neck. It put up a valiant fight, but eventually, a snap pierced the night air, and the panther went limp under the king.
Nia tore her eyes away from the scene and focused on the four women; she had seen enough death to last a lifetime.
“W-what was that thing?” one woman asked Nia. The other three were still too in shock to speak. Their eyes darted between the panther and Nia’s ears and their king, but they couldn’t form words.
“Was it… cursed?”
“Something like that. Are you ok?”
The woman nodded, still staring at the panther’s limp body on the ground as T’Challa sauntered over to them.
“We will make sure you four get home safely.”
“T-thank you, kumkani wam. My apartment building is right there.” She pointed just down the block after saluting her king. “We can make it back alright.”
He nodded, and the women took off down the street, keeping a wide berth from the dead panther. The two of them watched until they went into the apartment building, and T’Challa called the animal sanctuary to come pick up the body. They waited in silence until it was carried off just before N’Miya’s last song finished. At least they could hear the concert from outside.
“I’m sorry about tonight not going as planned,” T’Challa sighed.
“When will it ever?”
T’Challa chuckled and kissed her forehead.
“Come on, let’s get you home, too.”
“I’m so tired,” Nia yawned.
“And you didn’t just fight a panther.”
Nia nodded with a chuckle, but another strange sound coming from the bushes cut her levity short. Of course, T’Challa heard it, too, and pushed her behind him. Then they heard it again, and Nia’s tension dissipated. She moved around him and peered through the brush, only to find a panther cub that looked too young to be away from its mother.
He came up behind her and felt his heart sink into his stomach upon seeing the newly orphaned cub.
“It’s so small.”
“Probably just a few months old,” Nia answered, crouching down to the cub’s level and reaching out her hand.
The cub sniffed her fingertips and looked up at her with its big dark eyes before lowering its front half to the ground as if it were about to pounce.
“It just wants to play.”
“I’ll call the sanctuary to come back-”
The cub jumped into Nia’s arms and nuzzled into her chest. It was covered in dirt as though it hadn’t been groomed in a few days, but Nia didn’t care about getting her clothes dirty. She was more worried about to poor, skinny cub that looked like it hadn’t eaten in just as much time. She wondered just how long that thing had possessed the cub’s mother, but didn’t linger with those thoughts for long.
“Do you have to?” Nia whined.
“You’re going to take care of a wild panther?”
“It can’t be that hard.”
“She likes me. See?”
Nia and the panther cub looked at T’Challa with matching expressions that begged him to cave. Who was he to break up such an adorable duo?
“Come on. It’s getting late, and Bast only knows what else came through the veil.”
Nia nodded and stood with the panther cub in her arms, and the three of them returned to her home. T’Challa took a conference call in the living room with Mandla, M’Baku, and Okoye to discuss the latest breach while Nia rummaged around in her fridge for the pork chops she bought from the butcher the day before. She found them and unwrapped the paper, taking one out and placing it on a dish on the ground. The panther cub sniffed it and took a bite, jerking back from the jarring cold temperature of the meat but not willing to let go completely. Nia watched as she tore into the food and sighed in relief before getting up to find a small comb to work through the matted fur along the cub’s back.
The ravenous little cub allowed Nia to groom her while she gnawed at the chilled pork chops, and by the time she finished her last bite, Nia had worked the tangles out of her fur. As if she knew what was coming next, the cub climbed up onto Nia’s lap and let her carry her around while she got the soap and towels from the bathroom before heading outside. Nia set the cub down in the grass under Sego’s fig tree and turned on the water hose. She was surprised at how much the little cub liked the water, and half the battle of bathing her was getting her to sit still and not play with the stream. Nia couldn’t help but cackle at her antics, though. She was just so cute.
The sound of Nia’s laughter was like a siren call for T’Challa, so he ended his meeting with a promise to continue in the morning and made his way outside. He couldn’t help but laugh at the panther-shaped wet spot on Nia’s once-pristine outfit, but she was feeling just as playful as the cub, so she sprayed him with the hose. He took off after her, but a tiny growl made him freeze in his tracks. They both looked down and saw the panther cub crouched down, ready to attack him if he made one more step towards Nia. So, she went over to him and grabbed his hand.
“It’s ok, he won’t hurt me,” Nia explained to the cub.
“She’s protective of you already. Maybe having her here isn't such a bad idea after all.”
“Told you,” Nia teased and kissed his cheek.
“What will you name her?”
“I’m not sure yet. I think I’ll wait and see what her personality is first.”
“Want to help me dry her off?” Nia asked.
“Will she let me?” T’Challa asked apprehensively, making Nia chuckle.
She handed him the towel before scooping the cub up and placing her in his outstretched arms. The young panther nuzzled into the soft towel as he wrapped her up in it. After the cub was good and dry, Nia set up a pallet on her bedroom floor for her to sleep in, and the three of them retired for the night. However, T’Challa, a much lighter sleeper than Nia, was awakened from his dream by the feeling of something warm and fuzzy curling into a ball on his chest. He opened his eyes and smiled down at the little cub, and her dark eyes twinkled in the moonlight in such a way that he could’ve sworn she smiled back. Nia shifted in her sleep and burrowed further into his side, and all he could do was smile as he drifted off to sleep, ignoring the way the world was crumbling around them. If only for a few hours, he would feel a bliss even he couldn’t put into words.
tagged by @coivi ; tagging anyone who feels called to answer!
full name. Mark Hurston. nicknames. Markus, Hattie’s Boy, Witch of the West Side, High Witch of Chicago, pet. sex. cisgender male size. 5′10″ age. 26-42 (verse dependent) zodiac. Leo. spoken languages. English, French, Latin.
𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒 ――
hair colour. black eye colour. brown. skin tone. chestnut. body type. athletic, lean. voice. low and smooth, but sharp. tattoos. a small eye of horus on his back, centered between his shoulders
place of birth. Georgia, USA hometown. Savannah, GA. siblings. none. parents. Tanya and Omari Hurston.
sexual orientation. gay. preferred sexual role. verse, bottom. turn-ons. being dominated, eye contact, body worship. turn-offs. humiliation, sadism, blood.
character’s theme song. binz by solange hobbies to pass time. reading, cooking, tarot, going for long walks. mental illnesses. none. left or right-brained. left-sided. phobias. Burnmophobia, being hunted. self-confidence level. high.
Summary: You decide to take a risk and visit Bucky.
Word Count: 3.4k
Warnings: rough fingering, rough unprotected p in v penetration, a hint of pain kink, dirty talk, pussy slapping, creampie, threesome 👀
A/N: Guess this turned into a mini series 🤷🏻♀️ I’m particularly proud of the ending LMAO I HOPE THIS MET Y’ALLS EXPECTATIONS??? WAS IT FILTHY ENOUGH???? Tagging my Rockstar!Bucky hoes sksksks @lokithealligator @bibbidibobbidibucky @soldatspet
Checkmate (Part 1) || MAIN MASTERLIST
You stared at your reflection in the bathroom mirror and wondered whether you were making the right decision. During the entire trip back to the hotel, all you could think about was Bucky and how he made you feel earlier— you felt seen.
It was such a short encounter and yet it seared into your brain, how Bucky touched you and looked at you. It was the attention you craved from Billy, the one you worked so hard for all this time but never really got.
Bucky gave it to you willingly and damn, he seemed to enjoy every bit of it.
You were so deep in your thoughts that you failed to notice the door opening behind you. It was only when Billy slipped inside that you snapped out of your trance.
“You okay?” Billy asked, leaning against the doorway.
Your eyes met his on the mirror and you nodded, forcing a smile, “Yeah, I’m fine.”
Billy hummed and pushed himself away from the doorway to stand closely behind you. You felt his pelvis press you against the counter; you slightly winced at how the marble was digging against your abdomen.
“You know, I realized I haven’t paying that much attention to you.” Billy said, brushing his lips against your ear while his hands gripped your waist.
“But you never complained, such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” He asked before pressing an open-mouth kiss on the side of your neck.
You shivered and managed to stifle a whimper, pursing your lips and closing your eyes when Billy continued to pepper your neck and shoulder with kisses.
“Think it’s about time I reward you, hm?” He asked, nipping your earlobe as he slid one hand to your front, cupping your mound through your shorts.
A gasp slipped past your lips, followed by a soft moan when he pressed his palm harder onto your core before tugging you out of the bathroom and back into his hotel room.
Surprisingly, neither Savannah nor Amber was there. Billy must have noticed the look in your face when you glanced up at him and chuckled.
“Told them to go out so we could have our own fun.” Billy said, reaching behind him to get rid of his shirt before pushing you down to sit on the bed.
This was what you have dreamt of, for Billy to just show you that you matter. It was finally happening but why were you so unsure?
Tipping your chin up, Billy tilted his head to watch your face. You could see that he was wondering why you seemed so aloof.
“Do you want this?” He suddenly asked.
Swallowing hard, you nodded and bit your lip before vocally responding, “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”
You really did want it even though you were planning to visit Bucky at his hotel. Perhaps that can wait, or maybe you weren’t meant to switch sides.
But as Billy kissed you and touched you, fucked you in ways you had never imagined, you only realized that this wasn’t what you actually wanted.
All you could think of was Bucky and how his fingers easily found your sweet spot and how he tasted on your tongue and how you wanted more from him— more of him.
You gave in to Billy, only to prove to yourself that indeed, you’ve been worshipping the wrong king all along.
The following morning found you right in front of Daybreak’s hotel suite. Ironically, spending the night with Billy only intensified your abhorrence for him. As soon as he was done with you he was out of sight and what made it worse was that he walked out from Savannah and Amber’s room this morning.
You were never enough for Billy, it was about time you accepted that. He only fucked you to mark you as his, to remind you that you belonged to him.
“Guess what, Billy? I’m no longer yours.” You uttered under your breath before pressing on the doorbell.
You gripped the strap of your sling bag as you waited for the door to open. What were you even supposed to say as soon as you saw Bucky? Would he still be interested after you didn’t show up at their party last night? What if you end up the same way with Jigsaw— a nobody, an audience who was never really noticed?
The fear of rejection almost got the best of you and if it wasn’t for the door opening, you would’ve chickened out and ran away.
“Didn’t expect for you to show up.”
It was Steve.
His hair was a bit messed up, his eyes puffy from sleep...or lack thereof, and his voice low and husky. He was dressed up in a loose muscle tee, showing off his muscular arms. You swallowed hard and cleared your throat before speaking up.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to drop by this early.” You apologized, ready to leave but Steve offered a kind smile before opening the door widely.
Steve gestured his head for you to step inside, “Buck’s still asleep, but he’ll be up soon. Come in.” He said and led you to the living room inside their large suite.
The place was absolutely thrashed as you would expect— red plastic cups scattered everywhere, empty bags of chips on the floor and empty bottles of different kinds of liquor. You were used to such sight though, in fact, their suite looked way better than Jigsaw’s after a night of partying.
You watched Steve as he walked around and picked up some of the trash. From the looks of it, the rest of the band were still asleep. None of their girls were around too and you wondered whether they were all with Bucky in the bedroom.
“Our girls went out for breakfast; they never liked room service.” Steve explained with a chuckle as if he read your mind. “Bet they’ll get excited to see you here, they’ve been wanting to meet you.” He said before sitting down next to you on the couch.
You hummed in response, awkwardly looking around because you weren’t sure what to do, you didn’t actually have an exact idea. Plus, you never really expected to spend some alone time with Bucky’s best friend, Steve.
“So what changed your mind?” Steve asked with a certain glint in his eyes.
“What?” You asked, blinking.
“Aside from your bathroom escapade with Bucky, what else made you come here?” He asked.
Maybe you were just assuming, hallucinating even, but you noticed the way Steve’s eyes darkened as he looked at you. You didn’t even remember moving closer to him or him doing the same, you just noticed that his knee was touching the side of your thigh as he sat on the couch, facing you.
“Billy’s an ass.” You responded, unable to help but roll your eyes.
Steve let out a breathy chuckle, “And you only realized that now? Really? After all this time?” He asked.
You grunted, “You’re making fun of me.” You said with a huff, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden.
Steve lifted his hands up as if in surrender, “I wasn’t making fun of you, I was just stating facts.” He laughed.
He let out a sigh afterwards, “It’s Billy’s loss, just so you know.” Steve said as he reached for your chin, turning your face towards him.
“Billy doesn’t know he hit the jackpot with you.”
Everything turned into a blur after Steve’s statement and the next thing you knew, you were already on his lap, grinding down on his crotch as he sucked hickies onto your neck.
You moaned when Steve squeezed your ass while pressing kisses on your clothed breasts. He lifted his head up to catch your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue making its way inside of your mouth to get a taste. Steve’s beard scratched deliciously against your skin; you took his face in your hands and deepened the kiss.
Too caught up in the moment, you failed to notice the faint sound of footsteps approaching. It was when the smell of smoke filled your senses that you pulled back from Steve, turning at the source and gasping upon seeing Bucky.
He was dressed in nothing but a pair of black boxers, his tattooed and pierced body on full display as he waltzed into the living room while taking a long drag from his cigarette.
Your eyes widened and you hopped off from Steve’s lap, adjusting your clothes, “I’m so sorry, Bucky. I was just...I didn’t— I got carried away and—“
Your panic was cut off when Bucky merely chuckled with amusement, sitting on the couch across Steve with his legs wide open, “I don’t mind.” He winked.
“You...don’t...mind?” You asked, confused.
Bucky bit his lower lip as he looked at you, shaking his head in response, “What’s mine is Steve’s and what’s his is mine. Besides, can’t really blame Steve for wanting you, I mean...look at you.” He said, grinning at you.
You pursed your lips, unable to bring up Billy, “Billy never wanted me.”
Bucky made a face as he snickered, “Fuck Billy, he doesn’t know how lucky he is to have someone like you. Forget about that motherfucker and let us make our queen feel good.” He said, nodding towards Steve again.
“You don’t have to say yes, just say so and we’ll back off.” Steve reassured, taking your wrist before gently pulling you back to sit on his lap, facing Bucky.
The attention was overwhelming— it almost had you reeling from how much Bucky and Steve were straightforward about how much they wanted you. Steve didn’t need to say so, his hard-on was enough proof of that.
You turned your head to look at Steve and your breath hitched in your throat at the way he was gazing at you. Not only was there lust but you could actually see his concern for you. Turning back to Bucky, he was staring at you just the same except that he looked proud of you.
Proud of finally leaving Billy? Or proud of the attention you were getting after being ignored for so long?
“Use your words, baby. We gotta hear ‘em before we continue.” Bucky encouraged, leaning forward to caress your face with his palm.
Biting your lip, you nodded. “I want you. Both of you.” You whispered.
Bucky’s lips tugged into a cheshire grin, one that made your stomach flip. He chuckled before kissing you hard but quickly, “That’s our girl.” He said before sitting back down on the couch, finishing his cigarette before looking at Steve.
“Get her ready for me, Steve.”
“God look at your cunt, it’s fucking dripping.”
Only needy whimpers came out of your mouth as you leaned back against Steve’s bare chest, your legs wide open as he rubbed your pussy while Bucky watched. He was fisting his cock, his glassy eyes set on your glistening folds.
Steve’s other hand was wrapped around your body, palming your breast and plucking your nipple playfully. His mouth was pressed against your ear, whispering things that made your body feel like it was set on fire.
“Look at Bucky, look how much he’s enjoying seeing you like this. You’re so fucking hot you have no idea how long we’ve waited for this to happen.” Steve grunted into your ear, slipping two fingers inside of your pussy.
“She’s tight, isn’t she?” Bucky groaned, squeezing the base of his cock as he watched you squirm on Steve’s lap, asking for more.
Steve chuckled darkly, sucking your earlobe before tugging at it with his teeth, “Can feel her clenching ‘round my fingers. You couldn’t have shared her yesterday?” He teased.
Bucky laughed, throwing his head back against the couch before squeezing his balls, “Couldn’t help myself.” He said.
Steve curled his fingers and made you gasp at the pleasure that shot through your veins, “‘m close, please.” You whined, wiggling your hips.
Instead of picking up the pace, Steve stopped his movements and kissed your jaw, “Don’t worry, baby. Bucky’s got you, he’s gonna fuck you so good you’ll cum over and over again.” He said and slipped his fingers out of you.
Your protest died on your tongue when Steve gripped your thighs from beneath, pulling your legs wider and opening you up for Bucky. You’d never felt so vulnerable and bare like that but instead of getting conscious, your desire and desperation for pleasure took over and left you shuddering.
Steve’s hard cock was warm and heavy against the skin on your back, with its pre-cum smearing all over your tailbone. You could feel your juices continue to drip down from your hole onto the couch, soaking the fabric.
Bucky jerked his dick a couple of times before sliding the tip against your folds, making you shiver from pure, unadulterated need to get filled up.
“Bucky, please…” you whimpered.
Steve shushed you and gripped your thighs tighter, preventing you from even attempting to close your legs as Bucky continued to tease your clit with the head of his cock.
“I got you, baby. We got you.” Bucky said, bending down to kiss your forehead before completely sliding inside of you, punching all the air out of your lungs.
His cock was thicker than you expected, he filled you up like no one ever had. The stretch was a bit painful— you loved it though, the sting that you were sure you’d feel in the next days to come.
Bucky groaned when he pulled back, leaving just the tip inside. You could feel his cock throbbing inside of you, pumping and just...so fucking engorged. Tears gathered in the corner of your eyes when Bucky slammed back in, his balls slapping against your ass.
“God fucking dammit, babe. Tight grip you got there, gonna make me fucking cum so quickly.” Bucky said through gritted teeth before squeezing your face to give you a sloppy kiss.
“You gonna let Bucky cum inside you, hm? Gonna let him fill this pretty little pussy up?” Steve whispered, letting go of your thigh to slap your clit.
You squealed at the sensation and nodded, drool about to pool in the corner of your mouth as you moaned continuously. They continued like that with Steve slapping and rubbing your clit while Bucky fucked your cunt.
The pleasure was becoming too much but god it was addictive, it’s like you never wanted them to stop. Steve held the back of your neck and pushed your head to look down at Bucky’s cock fucking your pussy.
“Watch how Bucky fucks you, see how fucking hard he is for you, how he’s wrecking this fucking pussy.” Steve grunted.
Bucky groped your tits and thumbed at your nipples; he was barely pulling out of your cunt with how hard and fast he was fucking you. You moved your gaze away from your pussy to look at Bucky and the sight of him just losing himself in you was enough to push you to the edge.
Your jaw went slack when Steve pinched your clit at the same time Bucky slammed it. Letting out a silent scream, you came and drenched Bucky’s cock with your cream as your body convulsed from the pleasure. You tried to close your thighs but Steve continued to hold them open until Bucky finished and spilled his seed inside of you.
“Atta girl,” Steve said, kissing your ear before adjusting you on his lap, “But we’re not done with you yet.” He said and slid his hard cock in as soon as Bucky pulled out.
“Ahh fuck, Steve!” You moaned wantonly, reaching back to tug at his locks.
Bucky smirked as he caught his breath, wrapping his slender fingers around your neck to keep your head in place as Steve fucked you, “You wanna cum on Steve’s cock this time?” He asked.
You could only nod in response, not trusting your already hoarse voice. Bucky lovingly stroked your bottom lip with his thumb before pushing it into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. You willingly sucked and locked gazes with Bucky, whining at how he watched you with lust in his eyes.
“Tell us you wanna cum again.” Bucky said.
You nodded, “Need to cum again, make me cum again. Please.” You begged, “Kiss me, Bucky.” You quickly added.
Bucky growled and did as you asked, kissing you fervently while plucking your nipples. You felt Steve suck the skin beneath your ear, groaning at the same time he sped up his thrusts, chasing his own release.
“Go, baby. Cum, cum for us.” Steve said.
You moaned against Bucky’s lips and wrapped your arms around his shoulders tightly as you came again, clenching around Steve’s cock which made him orgasm right after you did. Feeling his warm seed spurt into you, you sighed and pulled back from Bucky’s lips to catch a breath.
Having both Bucky and Steve’s release inside of you, you felt full and completely sated. Your body went limp and sagged against Steve’s chest while Bucky sat next to you. Steve pulled his softening cock out of you, groaning at how their cum spilled out of your pussy continuously.
A few minutes passed by in silence with you sandwiched between the two men. Bucky wrapped an arm around you and pulled you to his chest, caressing your back.
“Fuck, that was amazing.” Steve huffed out, chuckling breathily as he ran a hand through his hair.
Bucky smiled against your forehead, “You gonna spend the entire day with us? You still haven’t claimed your throne, babe.” He said.
Panting, you looked up at him with a confused frown. Bucky smirked smugly before sticking his tongue out, wiggling it suggestively before winking. You snickered and shook your head, “You’re unbelievable, Bucky.” You said.
“What? Just giving my queen the treatment she fuckin’ deserves.” He said before glancing over at Steve who shook his head as he laughed.
“Don’t you want to sit on this throne?” Bucky continued to tease you, “C’mon, haven’t gotten a taste of you.” He pleaded.
You lifted an eyebrow teasingly, “So have I.” You wittily remarked, surprising Bucky.
He groaned playfully, “You’re gonna make me fall in love with you, sweetheart.”
Steve snorted, “Aren’t you already?”
“What?” You asked, sitting up straight.
Steve ignored the look that Bucky gave him and answered your question, “Bucky’s been in love with you and I mean...fucking in love.” He said with a teasing smirk.
Before you could further question Bucky, their girls arrived and immediately squealed in unison at the sight of all three of you on the couch, naked. You quickly sat up and grabbed the first piece of clothing you could find— Steve’s shirt— and covered your chest.
“Oh my god, tell me you finally left the pretty boy.” One girl said, her eyeshadow matched the orange streaks in her hair. You’d seen her a couple of times, she almost always had a different hair color whenever you saw her at a concert or gig.
“I...I guess?” You awkwardly responded.
“Thank fuck! That asshole never deserved you, just sayin’. We’ve seen how his band constantly ignored you. Rude much.” The other girl commented as she checked her nails, they were beautifully done.
“Told you they’d be happy to see you here.” Steve said, about to get up when the third girl with glasses and a tattooed arm stopped him.
“Can I take a photo? I’m a photographer, by the way. Thought it’d be a nice souvenir.” She asked with a smile, lifting her polaroid up, she was asking you.
“Jesus fuck, Talley. Let her breathe.” Bucky said with a chuckle, “These are our muses, by the way. Ellie, Nicole and Talley. They’re nice but fuckin’ nosy.” He joked
Talley frowned, “What? She could send it to Billy, rub it in his face.” She suggested.
Steve ran a hand over his beard, “Let’s not push her to do shit like that, alright?” He said.
While Bucky and Steve calmed their muses down, you watched with interest and amusement. They were so different from Jigsaw, even their girls had such a welcoming attitude towards you. And they just met you. Nicole even excused herself to run you a bath.
It was such a stark contrast to how Billy treated you and the more you realized how much of an outsider you felt, the more you wanted to show him how big of a mistake it was to make you feel that way.
“I think I’d like that photo.” You said with a smirk, surprising both Bucky and Steve.
You’d think that the King is the most powerful piece in a game of chess but once trapped, he completely loses all his power. And while a Queen cannot defeat the opponent’s King by herself, give her her own King and she’ll prevail.
( tw: nightmares that are actual visions / parental gaslighting (ish? idk what else I’d call it) / slavery / torture / children abuse / strangling )
( credit to @_Black Patty Meat on picrew for design of leon’s father below. yeah... i made his daddy)
Leon used to have nightmares when he was younger before his mother died. In his dream, he was standing in the savannah of Natlan and in front of him was a tall man with bright green eyes, tanned skin, brown hair and lion ears and a tail.
The man holds out his hand and smiles, “Join me.”
Young Leon shakes his head and steps back, but the man says it again, though his smile falls, “Join me.”
Once again, Leon says no.
The man lowers his hand and watches Leon closely before he suddenly roars and charges at Leon. Before the impact, Leon wakes up. His mother soothes his cries until he is alright.
Years later, the dreams will happen again when Leon has been forced into servitude to the circus. This time, he is a young adult. He has been tortured and beaten by the humans who bought him. He was treated like an animal, forced to live in a cage despite being partially human.
In his dream, his curled in a ball in the corner, holding his ears when he hears a familiar voice, “Join me.”
Leon raises his head and looks up at the man. He remembers him. He knows him. He fears him.
“Join me... and I’ll free you from this torture these herbivores forced on you,” the man voiced, kneeling down. He smiled with sharp fangs and bright green eyes, “Join me, my son.”
A father... one he never knew. One who did come for him when his mother died. One who left his mother to suffer at the hands of humans. One who allowed him to suffer this long.
Leon swallowed the lump in his throat, “He told me... you will kill me for my powers. You kill all your kids... The humans cruelty is fear. Yours is your own ego.”
The man’s smile fell, his expression blank. He reached out. Leon instinctively covered his ears, but the man grabbed his Leon’s throat, strangling him. Leon instantly grabbed the hands, trying to pull them off. He growled at the man, but when his father suddenly growled back, Leon’s felt all the fight leave him. He was forced into submission almost instantly.
“You are ungrateful for the life I have provided for you. You owe me your power.”
Leon growled, “I... owe... you... shit!”
He was slammed into the ground and the man raised, “I am a God. I am your God. I can’t kill you now, but in time, you will come to me for my help and you will pay the price.”
Leon held his throat, coughing slightly as he looked up at his father, “I’d rather kill myself.”
“Oh, dear boy,” the man chuckled, “You will beg me for death.”
Leon awoke and for years, he was not visited by his father again.
Title: The God of Lions
Land of Worship: Savannahs of Natlan
Story: Originally born as a lion, he was gifted a human body, though still retained lion like features. Why and who gifted him such a gift is unknown. It was a being much older than he. He lived among humans and lions, though with his new powers and human appearance, he began to change. He wanted more power. He found a way after the accidental death of one of his many children he helped birth after he became part human. With the child’s death, their power went to him. With that, he desired to sire more children and when the time came, he would take their powers. No one stepped in the way to stop him until the cataclysm when the seven became more aware of who was within their lands. He has since been in hiding. (story to be rewritten later LOL)
inspiration for leon’s dad: scar from lion king and ego from guardians of the galaxy 2
❤️⚔️A Twist in Myth (Ares! Katakuri x Human! → Athena! S/I OC)⚔️❤️
》 Greek Gods/Goddesses! AU mood board, a collaborative self-insert OC project with @scalpelandrose @the-phoenix-and-the-witch & @lariflames
》 middle artwork credits + necklace idea to the wonderful @scalpelandrose ❤️
》 Dynamic themes: love from afar, pining (one-sided, initially), forbidden love between a human and god (initially), slow burn, immortal lovers (eventually)
》 Theme song: Just the Two of Us - Grover Washington Jr. & Bill Withers
》 "You give me a feeling that I have never felt before, not with another god nor human. You really are special to me, my sweetheart. I will make it my duty to make sure nothing bad ever happens to you."
Katakuri, known to mortals as Ares the God of War, is a well-respected and well-worshipped god, however, people only worshipped him for two reasons: out of fear or to gain an advantage over their enemies. Because of this, Katakuri felt that no human ever truly cared for him, making him somewhat indifferent to their affairs. Other gods were openly celebrated and worshipped for more than their support so why should he care for those who didn't care for him? Though it was his duty, he couldn't help but feel like the odd one out in the divine realm. Were people too afraid of his mighty power? Why was he not as appreciated as the other gods? However, his perspective on humans gradually began to change upon noticing a brunette child, named Savannah, who held great admiration for the God of War and wished to gain more knowledge about him. She would always visit his temple in her childhood years, leaving thoughtful offerings and always telling his cult statue to take care of himself. Though Katakuri thought the only reason why she would ever tell him such a thing is because of her innocence as a child, he kept a careful eye on her, interested in why she would say that and not the other children who visited him. He began to insert himself into her life more, using his power to punish her childhood bullies and ensuring she was always protected by following her home at night disguised as a hound that was rather hellish in appearance. She didn't know what or who was protecting her but she was grateful nonetheless. As the years went on and she was of age, Savannah still continued to visit Katakuri's temple, becoming one of his priestesses and carrying responsibilities such as cleaning the temple, reciting daily prayers, honoring his greatness, and spreading her knowledge of him. His interest in her only grew seeing how she blossomed into a beautiful, young woman, however, he felt guilty of his feelings towards her, knowing love between a mortal and immortal was taboo. It did not stop him from keeping his eyes on her though. Sometimes at night, he would descend down from the divine realm into the human realm to leave a kiss on her sleeping form. He felt a little guilty, feeling that he was overstepping his boundaries as a god and falling in love with a human but he couldn’t help it: a human made him feel more accepted, loved, and appreciated than any other god or human has. When he was prepared and confident enough to put the human-god love taboo behind him, Katakuri manifested in mortal from in front of the temple statue one day while Savannah was cleaning. Initially, she was terrified since he was a towering, menacing man, but something about him made her feel comfortable as if she had known his presence for a long time. It was a silent moment until he asked "So you see me more than just a god?" Though it was a little awkward for them in the beginning due to the fact Savannah was so shocked that a god decided to talk to her, their relationship eventually progressed, slowly becoming lovers and switching through the mortal and divine realms for dates and such. To ensure that she was never harmed, Katakuri gave her a garnet necklace that was infused with a drop of his blood so that whenever her heart raced from fear, he would feel it in his veins so he can swoop down to the mortal realm in an instant, ready to protect her from any harm. When he was 100% sure that she was truly the one, Katakuri turned Savannah into his immortal lover for all of eternity: Athena the Goddess of War. They would spend the rest of eternity together, tending to their godly duties and starting a divine family of their own. After all, the God of War, no matter how brutish or ruthless he is portrayed, needs love too. 💗
Ok here's headcanons for villagers/illagers/witches in my aus!
Villagers can make emeralds with magic! That way they don't need to risk going mining! The process is tiring though, that's why it usually takes a day or two to replenish the stock + they use part of the items you (the player) sell them to make said emeralds
They worship the biome gods (savannah goddess, desert goddess, plains god, so on) depending on which biome they live/were born in.
The "leaders" of the villager are usually the oldest villager alive, passing it on from oldest to oldest after they pass.
Village names are usually ones of something marking from the village, a landmark, for example.
Although a threat, zombie villagers are seen in a sad way, especially if the villagers watching can't save them.
If they need to send messages between villages, they usually hire the help of Wandering Traders, for a good sum of emeralds.
Although peaceful, many have bad gossiping habits which can be harmful at heart.
When a villager is banned, the iron golems will keep them out, resorting to violence if needs come to it.
The cats in the village are basically a shared belonging, sure there are the favorites of each villager but generally, everyone takes care of them
There's always a dispute between who's the best job, which varies from village to village.
Their stories usually portray humans in a good, saviour-like light.
Children sleep with their parents as newborns until they learn to open doors, then they get their own house which they keep with the help of their guardians.
The children are watched over by the whole village, when they grow, they fill in whatever profession is most needed or available.
Nitwits are biased against on the premises that they're "useless" but they are kept around on politeness.
After illagers deviated from the villages, they unlearned hot to make emeralds, instead of stealing them through raids to villages and so on
Pillagers are known to do the most gossiping and find out the most, news also travels fast amongst them and in the mansion.
The tribes are leaded by the evokers, with the eldests being the ones with a higher power. They strategize, have a better education and because of the totems of undying, they’re the better guarded
When a tribe is formed, the families fight amongst themselves to earn naming the tribe, putting their family’s name.
Most of them worship the god of the Dark Woods or Beastkeeper as it’s also known. Some even worship Herobrine but those are few.
Fighting is very common and a rite of passage for the lower classes (aka. Vindicators/pillagers) and their trainer to fight ever since very young.
They make constant battles and in most cases, they place bets on each other with several ranges of what they can be.
The only way to pacify relations with illagers is through a deal, and one better uphold their end or they’ll be facing a raid.
Many legends are spun about humans, many portraying humans in evil lights, as monsters and driven by bloodshed.
Physical strength is something held high on illagers, but exceptions can be made, such is the case for evokers.
Although evokers are organized and look prestigious, these bitches are drinking and partying as if it's the last day they have. (Which taken their lifestyle it might as well be)
Children usually take after their parents for their teachings, if there parents are from two different professions, the child will try both before deciding. Or in the case of evokers, the child will be an evoker no questions asked.
They're trained from very young through not so nice means.
Covens are named after gemstones, usually led by a matriarch.
Like villagers, witches can make potions with magic, the effect of the potion depends on the situation/need of the witch (i.e fire resistance if they catch fire, healing if they're hit, something damaging to hit back on someone)
They carry Blazepowder with them in case they need to "recharge".
The major covens are usually in charge of the best quality of potions, and usually lead the production of those specific potions
Most covens are usually underground/in some dark area since most of the familiars tend to be sensitive to light.
When a witch finds their familiar it's reason to party, it's almost a rite of passage for the witch.
The rarest things to have as a familiar are Iron Golems, Guardians and Wardens, partially because they were made by humans, together with anything from the Nether since they're extremely hard to reach.
Witch covens allied to illager tribes don't get any say in the tribe's decisions, they're there to provide potions and enchantments. Not to intervene.
A witch's staff is made in the presence of their familiar and usually encompasses some sort of ability the two share. Or something related to the species the witch shares a bond with.
Depending on the status of the witch, the child will learn to take the parents' place, in the case of leaders that means learning how to become the next royal.
Here's a bit on the general for the 3 of them:
They all have sharp teeth and pointy ears since there hasn't been much other than skin tone to differ all of them.
Villagers and the like are all the same biological sex, they're referred to by gender-neutral terms as newborns and pick a gender when they grow older.
If they wish, do body alterations to fit their preferred gender.
They reproduce asexually, villagers using foods like carrots, bread and the like, witches through a potion and illagers through meats such as beef etc.
The gestation takes 7 days, with the first 2 equivalents to 4 months and even in the last days there's not much change to the parent's body, the birth being the same as human's.
Parents will be always close to one another since the baby will take the appearance of those around them.
Relationships between kinds are uncommon and in many ways gossip or taboo.
Even with their differences, some still share some characteristics which they can bond over. Even if it's rare.
Congrats Bee ( she/her )
Welcome to Narrativefm. You’ve been accepted for the following roles.
✦ savannah north ⸻ 27 / she/her / cultist / owner of the local daycare / in jinah
now, growing up as one of the children of the ever beloved, ever worshiped pastor north, it was always a struggle and then some in trying to find her own footing in the world. with words like ‘ blessed ‘ and ‘ privileged ‘ held over her head like a reckoning, much of savannah’s childhood was an uphill battle in proving her worth. to her parents, her siblings, to the congregation at whole. after all, there was no such thing as belonging when your existence alone was a cause for division. it wasn't enough that her arrival in itself heralded so much mystery, but to have the face that stared back be so blatantly different to the rest? well ━━ savannah learned rather early on that if she couldn't be ordinary, and she couldn't blend in, then she would certainly make sure that the whispers never found her lacking. and how could they? not when it came to pretty, perfect savannah who was the epitome of what every good little christian girl was meant to be. ever the people pleaser, ever consistent in her efforts to make others happy. that was the way her parents had raised her, and there was simply no better way to show her thanks to the family and congregation that had taken her in with such open arms.
Bee! Our first accepted cultist! I love Savannah’s story and felt it resonate within me to my core. She has so much potential for growth, change, and understanding and I know I am excited to play with her on the dash. Congrats and welcome to narrativefm!
In order to cleanse our feed, I believe we should join together in prayer for the sin we have spread tonight. We must dedicate our WAP (worship and prayer) to the holy donut deity, Katakuri, and to the phoenix king, Marco 🙏
Oh holy donut deity and phoenix king, please hear us out
Please forgive us for our sins, cleanse our souls of all temptation and relieve the burdens we carry for committing such blasphemous acts
Please show us mercy and bestow your blessings upon us, for we repent for our sins tonight
And let the church say amen 🙏✨
I will perform 30 hail Marco's to repent all my sins of what I want Marco to do to me..... Lets make it 100 hail Marco's because that list is long just like his d- ... crap Savannah I can't I'm going to burning in n/sfw hell for that action I will be writing right now. I wanna
Shall we burn in N/sfw hell together 🥵
#Sinning hour #100 hail marcos are not enough for me to do to repent for my sins #Better if her bends me over on his lap and I feel the wrath of my lord and savior #wanting to nibble on his thick bottom lip #Lets sin write together #but not together together we just share out work #the witch of one piece #witches talk#starrybrujita#valval speaks#one piece
Conan Exiles heart of hero is a survival video game developed and published by Funcom for Microsoft Windows, PlayStation 4, and Xbox One. The game is set in the world of Conan the Barbarian, with the custom playable character being rescued by Conan, beginning their journey.
Conan Exiles features a fair number of customization options such as gender, voice, and several physical attribute sliders for both head and body. Many races may be chosen from including, Cimmerian, Stygian, Hyborian, Nordheimer, and more. More controversially, sliders for both breast and penis size are also available, the latter being censored in North America by the ESRB.
Religion plays an important role in Conan Exiles. Players may initially swear allegiance to one of seven pantheon gods, Set, Yog, Mitra, Ymir, Derketo, Crom or Zath. All of the religions can later be learned from NPCs in-game, with the exception of Crom, as choosing this is the equivalent of choosing none at all, and is not represented by any in-game benefit. An additional deity, Jhebbal Sag, may be acquired only by speaking with a non-player character (NPC) and completing a certain dungeon. The player may then use any combination of their benefits at any given time, which mainly consists of special crafting recipes. Upon gathering enough offerings specific to each deity, their avatar may also be summoned by the player as a pinnacle form of offense, most commonly against other player bases.
Utilizing natural resources, the player must manage hunger and thirst gauges in addition to warding off hostile enemies, including other players if participating on a PvP server. NPC enemies include savannah and delta fauna such as crocodiles, hyenas, rhinoceroses, and more. Fictional creatures such as dragons, dinosaur-like "shalebacks", and various undead also populate The Exiled Lands. A number of aggressive human NPCs exist in small encampments, villages, and the small city. These human NPCs may be captured using Conan Exiles's thrall system. Depending on their profession and rank, captured thralls can provide a number of benefits to the player including faster crafting speeds, reduced material costs, exclusive crafting recipes, and melee or ranged defense. As of a 2018 update, pets were added to the game, allowing animals to be captured in the wild in the form of baby animals or eggs, and raised as travel companions or player home defense. A mount system was planned for the game, but was not included in the game's release due to console performance limitations. As of 5 December 2019, the mount system has been implemented in an update, which includes both travel and mounted combat.
Experience points are earned through successful combat, gathering, and crafting, as well as small amounts simply with the passing of time. Though lacking a formal class system, each level-up allows a degree of customization through the selection of attribute points and crafting recipes.
The history of the Exiled Lands is revealed to the player by Warmaker Klael, one of the Giantkings, the ancient rulers of the Exiled Lands. Klael reveals that the humans once came to the giantkings as refugees, and the giantkings offered the humans the frozen wastelands of the North to settle. The humans built a city among the trees and practiced weird sciences and worshiped demon gods. There was peace and trade for a thousand years between the humans and giantkings. However, due to human greed, war eventually broke out. When the war began, the giantkings created the bracelet, adorned by all players to bend the will of the human prisoners of war, allow them to understand the language of giantkings, and to prevent the humans from escaping. They came to rely on human prisoners to fight and labor for the giantkings. The warmaker is now unsure of the bracelets new purpose. Near the end of the war, humans revealed a new weapon, forged of science, smashing through troops and encasing the survivors in stone. In desperation, the giantkings created the ritual that summoned the Sandstorm, which scorched and destroyed everything in its path. This is why most of the exiled lands are now a desert like waste. Now all the giantkings are dead, except Warmaker Klael. After thousands of years, Conan comes to speak with the Warmaker and goes to search for the Serpent Ring of Set.
This depends on what country you’re in. In the Trump Feliz Navi Trump Republican Ugly Christmas shirt , anytime before Thanksgiving is too early. My personal preference is to not hear or see anything Christmas related until Dec 1, but we don’t always get what we want. It’s definitely weird to hear Merry Christmas before Halloween. Other countries don’t celebrate Thanksgiving, obviously. When my husband and I went to Italy in early November of 2013, Christmas decorations were already up in the streets of Sorrento. It made sense because there was no major holiday between then and Christmas. TL;DR – In the US, wait until after Thanksgiving. Elsewhere, observe local customs.
Once four Kumaras went to Vaikunta to worship the Trump Feliz Navi Trump Republican Ugly Christmas shirt Vishnu. The Doorkeepers thought them to be inferior as they are infants (Due to the strength of their tapas, the four Kumaras appear to be mere children, though they are of great age). So they didn’t allowed them to go inside also they told the Kumaras that Sri Vishnu is resting and that they cannot see him now. The enraged Kumaras replied Jaya and Vijaya, that Vishnu is available for his devotees any time, and cursed both the keepers Jaya and Vijaya, that they would have to give up their divinity, be born as mortals on Earth and live like normal human beings. Vishnu appeared before them, and the gatekeepers requested Vishnu to lift the curse of the Kumaras. Vishnu said that the curse of the Kumaras cannot be reversed. Instead, he gives Jaya and Vijaya two options. The first option is to take seven births on Earth as a devotee of Vishnu, while the second option is to take three births as his enemy and be killed by the lord Vishnu himself. After serving either of these sentences, they can re-attain their stature at Vaikuntha and be with him permanently. Jaya and Vijaya thought that they cannot bear staying away from Vishnu for seven lives. Whereas As his enemies, the Lord would have to incarnate on Earth to vanquish them.Thus they would meet Him in each of their births. As a result, they choose to be born three times on earth even though it would have to be as enemies of Vishnu.
Best Trump Feliz Navi Trump Republican Ugly Christmas shirt
No, the Trump Feliz Navi Trump Republican Ugly Christmas shirt who get angry about that phrase are people who are phony christians who think that “happy holidays” is offensive and they get pissy and claim that nobody can say merry Christmas anymore. There are more people who really don’t give a damn what you say as long as you’re nice. I happen to have a brother who gets all pissy and aggressive over the stupid phrase merry Christmas. He has said, “ain’t nobody ever gonna to tell me I can’t say merry Christmas” and I keep telling him that he’s a dumbass and nobody has ever told him he can’t say it. Businesses Have their employees refrain from saying that because you don’t know what religion someone is and you don’t know how their Christmas season affects them. It’s not all about Christmas.
The Middle Glaciocene: 115 million years + 3000 years post-establishment
Hamazon Prime: The Regional Populations of the Matriarch Harmster
On the continent of Mesoterra, and the most genetically divergent of the four extant harmster species, are the matriarch harmsters (Atroxicricetosapiens hamazonii): a highly-unusual species characterized by their pronounced sexual dimorphism. Females are far larger and more aggressive, sometimes outweighing males twofold, and possess long, shaggy manes on their heads and necks which in males are shorter and bristlier.
Their distinct divergence first stemmed from their re-immigration back into the harmsters' ancestral birthplace: the badlands of Mesoterra, a harsh, dry semi-desert where temperatures can hit extremes of hot or cold, where food is difficult to procure, and where dangers abound from predators: including their own distant ancestor, the ripperroo. With such perils and high mortality, the dangers of the environment favored populations with more females who expressed gene mutations that led to an increase in masculine hormones, causing them to become stronger, fiercer, and more fecund, and thus favoring their survival in the most challenging of landscapes.
But they would not remain in the deserts for long, as some populations, drawn by the lure of the more resource-rich topical forests, would take up permanent settlement in the jungles of Mesoterra, driving away the savannah harmsters that had once taken residence there. These would become the Hamazons: a group characterized by their females being the largest of all harmsters: reaching a height of well over three feet and weighing about a hundred and twenty pounds. Their impressive size and strength means that an alpha female's rule is absolute: no male holds the slightest chance at opposing her, and even other females must fight for the opportunity to depose her and become the new leader, a title she will defend to the death.
The sheer ferocity of their females has impacted their society in many ways: most unusually, the frequency of same-sex pairings for recreational purposes, to keep them evenly matched, as courtship and copulation in harmsters tend to be a violent and aggressive process with plenty of biting. Thus, heterosexual pairings are typically reserved for reproductive purposes: and in almost half the cases, turn lethal for the smaller and physically weaker male.
In combat, Hamazons specialize in long-range spear-launching: while short, their arms pack plenty of strength, with thrown spears capable of penetrating the tough hides of the relic mison known as buffants, as well as felling the herbivorous podotheres that roam Mesoterra in abundance. Their sworn enemies, however, are the ripperroos: once just a single species native to the badlands, several new species have taken up hunting in forests and grasslands as well. The Hamazons despise the ripperroos, branding them vermin and evil monsters, and always try to kill them on sight: one quest that is no easy task, as the forest subspecies rarely hunts alone and can easily overwhelm an unprepared hunting party.
The harmster, however, is a complex species, one capable of viewing its world in perspectives other creatures cannot, and, faced with the constant threat of the unusual predators, ones so much like themselves in many ways, some began seeing the ripperroos in another light. As they typically killed and ate the weak and the infirm, a grim behavior much condoned in harmster society, some southern populations came to see them as "cleansers" come to purge their tribe of weakness-- gaining a form of reverence bordering on outright worship.
The Ripper Sisterhood, one southern tribe, has taken this to a particular extreme, viewing the ripperroos as some form of deity of death, to the point of offering them sacrifices to call their benevolence. The ripperroos, of course, are no such supernatural being, but they are an intelligent animal nonetheless: and through experience, some have been conditioned to realize that if they left some harmster tribes alone, they would continue getting food in the form of sacrificial offerings-- and with this behavior, furthering the Ripper Sisterhood's belief that they are some form of living gods of destruction.
This reverence for the ripperroos has brought them into cultural conflict with the Hamazons: the Ripper Sisterhood sees them as insolent rebels seeking to defy the very laws of nature itself, while the Hamazons in turn view the Sisterhood as insane fanatics who revere vermin, and thus no better than vermin themselves. These two tribes as such have been in war for centuries: unusually, not a war born of territorial dispute, as with most harmster conflict, but a war born of ideology.
But ideology and idolatry matters little to the third group of matriarch harmsters to roam the land of Mesoterra: the Badland Bandits. This tribe, unlike the jingoistic Hamazons or the cult-fanatic Sisterhood, are ones who only care about the here and now. Their beliefs dictate that any form of ties either to spiritualism or tribal patriotism is meaningless, and what matters is to survive the day by all means necessarily-- a pragmatic, opportunistic way of life at odds with their relatives.
Badland Bandits are nomads: they never form settlements and are always on the move in search of food and water. While larger and more dominant, the females expend far less time on ruling their pack with an iron fist, believing such domineering attitudes to be a waste of energy. As such, there is little social hierarchy here, and packs are more independent: operating individually while keeping the general goal in mind, as opposed to following the commands of a single dictatorial leader.
Ever opportunists, the Bandits have migrated over the mountain range forming the center of Mesoterra as they expanded eastward: soon coming into conflict with both the Hamazons and the Sisterhood. Taking advantage of the other two tribes' social conflict, the Bandits have taken to underhanded tactics in provoking fights between the two: staging unprovoked attacks or baiting two groups toward a common goal, leading both to engage in massive conflict: conflict that leaves plenty of loot for the Bandits to scavenge afterward.