Hold â
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
we're not kids anymore.
taylor price

Jules of Nature
ojovivo
Keni

⣠Chile in a Photography âŁ

JBB: An Artblog!
RMH

Not today Justin
styofa doing anything
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
I'd rather be in outer space đ¸
Sade Olutola
wallacepolsom
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

seen from Kenya

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany

seen from Japan
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Venezuela

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Netherlands
seen from Lithuania

seen from Kenya

seen from Morocco
seen from United States

seen from TĂźrkiye
seen from United States
@dustyscarabs
Hold â

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
âOne must accept the fact that others donât see what you do.â
â Louise Bourgeois (via goodreadss)
once a lady told me that if my plants are dying even when Iâm caring for them correctly, it means theyâre absorbing the curses my enemies are casting upon me. so now when my plants randomly die, I wonder if they died protecting me.
Several years ago, I read a paper where some graffiti of Wepwawet had been found at one of the tombs in Saqqara. No figures accompanied the paper and at the time I was unable to locate any examples. And then , just yesterday, I clicked by chance on one of the EEF mailing list emails that landed in my inbox. Inside was a link to a brand new article about graffiti at Saqqara. And yes! The Wepwawet examples are in there. And yes, they are every bit as awesome as Iâd been hoping for!
Source
initiation.
The crocodile snaps its jaws onto my torso, but I catch my feet in the mud beneath the water and stop his momentum. With some painful, bloody struggling I pry the teeth out, a punch to the snout to disrupt him, and he releases in time for me to grapple those killing jaws shut. He tosses and turns, but another punch to the top of the skull makes him backpedal into the deeper muck. I collapse panting, bleeding from shredded sides, and watch the water for further movement. The god rises from the muddy waters plume-first, body now human, head still cold-blooded. He grips a reed staff, almost white-knuckled. His breathing only takes a moment to settle. âWhy wonât you love yourself?â He bellows, half a hiss. âI donât think I can.â âHave you tried?â âNot really.â âWhy not?â âIâm scared.â He doesnât let me speak further. His clawed hand grabs my arm, and He drags me off the bank. I tumble into the muddy water and slide behind Him. As we continue, the pain fades. The gashes are gone when my torso resurfaces. Suddenly, He jolts me upright. Guides my head to direct my gaze. There floats a lily, disconnected from the water. Pure and perfect. I donât hear the rest of what He says. I admire the flower until I am jerked upwards by His arms once more, and He throws me aside into the deeper waters.
I rise as petals.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
âThere will be moments when you are pushed to your absolute limits. It may get to the point when you feel like the world is collapsing in on you. This is important, for it is during these moments when you learn of your true capabilities and how far you can really go. Youâre much stronger and resilient than you could have ever imagined.â
â Nicole Addison @thepowerwithin
Mummified Crocodile
Mummy of a crocodile, sacred animal of the god Sobek, mainly worshiped in Kom Ombo and in the Faiyum. It is wrapped with linen bandages with geometric patterns, drawing rhombus, and the head has been redone stressing the eyes and mouth.
Roman Period, 1st century AD. Now in the Egyptian Museum, Cairo.
Sometimes a Wild God
Sometimes a wild god comes to the table. He is awkward and does not know the ways Of porcelain, of fork and mustard and silver. His voice makes vinegar from wine. When the wild god arrives at the door, You will probably fear him. He reminds you of something dark That you might have dreamt, Or the secret you do not wish to be shared. He will not ring the doorbell; Instead he scrapes with his fingers Leaving blood on the paintwork, Though primroses grow In circles round his feet. You do not want to let him in. You are very busy. It is late, or early, and besides⌠You cannot look at him straight Because he makes you want to cry. The dog barks. The wild god smiles, Holds out his hand. The dog licks his wounds And leads him inside. The wild god stands in your kitchen. Ivy is taking over your sideboard; Mistletoe has moved into the lampshades And wrens have begun to sing An old song in the mouth of your kettle. âI havenât much,â you say And give him the worst of your food. He sits at the table, bleeding. He coughs up foxes. There are otters in his eyes. When your wife calls down, You close the door and Tell her itâs fine. You will not let her see The strange guest at your table. The wild god asks for whiskey And you pour a glass for him, Then a glass for yourself. Three snakes are beginning to nest In your voicebox. You cough. Oh, limitless space. Oh, eternal mystery. Oh, endless cycles of death and birth. Oh, miracle of life. Oh, the wondrous dance of it all. You cough again, Expectorate the snakes and Water down the whiskey, Wondering how you got so old And where your passion went. The wild god reaches into a bag Made of moles and nightingale-skin. He pulls out a two-reeded pipe, Raises an eyebrow And all the birds begin to sing. The fox leaps into your eyes. Otters rush from the darkness. The snakes pour through your body. Your dog howls and upstairs Your wife both exults and weeps at once. The wild god dances with your dog. You dance with the sparrows. A white stag pulls up a stool And bellows hymns to enchantments. A pelican leaps from chair to chair. In the distance, warriors pour from their tombs. Ancient gold grows like grass in the fields. Everyone dreams the words to long-forgotten songs. The hills echo and the grey stones ring With laughter and madness and pain. In the middle of the dance, The house takes off from the ground. Clouds climb through the windows; Lightning pounds its fists on the table. The moon leans in through the window. The wild god points to your side. You are bleeding heavily. You have been bleeding for a long time, Possibly since you were born. There is a bear in the wound. âWhy did you leave me to die?â Asks the wild god and you say: âI was busy surviving. The shops were all closed; I didnât know how. Iâm sorry.â Listen to them: The fox in your neck and The snakes in your arms and The wren and the sparrow and the deer⌠The great un-nameable beasts In your liver and your kidneys and your heart⌠There is a symphony of howling. A cacophony of dissent. The wild god nods his head and You wake on the floor holding a knife, A bottle and a handful of black fur. Your dog is asleep on the table. Your wife is stirring, far above. Your cheeks are wet with tears; Your mouth aches from laughter or shouting. A black bear is sitting by the fire. Sometimes a wild god comes to the table. He is awkward and does not know the ways Of porcelain, of fork and mustard and silver. His voice makes vinegar from wine And brings the dead to life.
Disappear for some time, work on yourself, return unrecognizable.
Anubis, teaching Horus how to drive: okay, youâre driving, and Sobek and Thoth walk into the road. Quick, what do you hit?
Horus: Oh, definitely Thoth. I would never hurt Sobek.
Anubis, massaging his temples: The brakes, Horus. You hit the brakes.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
A short one off comic starring everyoneâs favorite agent of chaos. I may have been inspired slightly by recent drama (I have it on good authority that Set enjoys a good drama)
âHow did you say the slash mark with your mouth like thatâ- A/pep probably.
Dua Sobek, he who with Sharp Teeth offers protection, and with gentle eyes watches over the meek and fills us with courage.
Dua Sobek, who resides within the Sunâs glint on water, and in the fiery passion of our hearts.
Dua Sobek! His boundless love encompasses all things and gives to us warmth and reassurance that the sun will always rise in the morning once again.
To Anubis
Was having a spat when he reminded me to ground myself. Venting is good but getting myself worked up over something I have no control over isnât. His is a stern but loving voice and is enough to break me of any emotional turmoil, a reminder that I need to get up and dust myself off because my life isnât over and everything will continue.
So I got him some honey meade and frankincense as a thank you.
@mishivae yes, that is the mythology, but that doesnât mean ppl donât still work with him. As someone who works with both Osiris and Set in the same shrine, I assure you that Iâm okay with giving a light to said killer. and so are a lot of other folks
All of the NTRW have engaged in shitty behaviour, all of them are known in some respects for being murderous. Itâs part of their duality. Itâs part of the duality of a functioning system (for those of you who read the WP, read: maâat) and thatâs why our mythology and gods can have contradicting aspects, both beneficial and detrimental. because we all have them. cuz you have to in order to survive >.>;
so idk. if youâre not okay with Set, thatâs fine. but a lot of us are okay with him, and a lot of us will continue to light candles for said killer.
And this certainly doesnât make Set some âevilâ figure to be vanquished. Set is as Set does and sometimes thatâs getting rowdy. So does Sobek - an incredibly attentive and caring god, but deeply violent as befits an apex predator - but that does not make him âevilâ just as it doesnât make Set âevilâ. The violence here is a function of duality and of purpose. The netjer fuck up, have fucked up, will fuck up, but itâs a function of being (at least in my opinion).
I absolutely agree with everything that has been said in reply to this (hopefully just ignorant) ask but I must say: this is so funny it sounds like a callout post for Set
it IS a callout post for Set we get this from time to time really
you pray to killers so that you can be a better killer, obvs
you realize egyptians themselves prayed to set, yeah??????????? you seemingly also forgot the end of the myth where set was accepted back into the pantheon because he and horus reconciled, yeah??????
bonus round
Troll Cat
A troll cat, also known as a milk rabbit or troll ball, is the familiar of a witch in Scandinavian folklore.Â
Description
They are created from âhuman hair, nails, wood shavings, and the likeâ by witches;Â and they were said to suck milk from cows and steal cream from households.Â
There are said to be different types of troll cats - the trollnøste and trollnøa indicate their shapes: those troll cats looked like balls of yarn. Another type of troll cat had the shape of a regular cat; a difference between the two was that injury done to the cat-shaped troll cat would cause the same injury in the witch, whereas damaging the ball-shaped troll cat had no effect on her.
It was also thought that shooting a troll cat would cause milk to spray from its wound.
A story collected in Norway, 1929, has a witch, named Lispet SnipĂĽnn, who had her farmhand collect all the wood shavings; on Thursday night she would roll them into a ball and put three drops of blood (from her finger) on it. The incantation âNow I have given you flesh and blood. May Old Nick give you power and lifeâ turned the ball into a troll cat. Another spell was recorded in Sweden, 1908: I give you blood, Satan gives you power. You shall run for me on earth, I shall burn for you in hell. You shall travel through forests and fields, gathering milk and cream.
It was believed that witches had to sell their souls to the Devil in order to be able to breathe life into the troll cats for them to become beings. Â
Droppings from the troll cat (or, the excess milk they had lapped up too greedily and vomited up) could, if they were burned, cause the witch to feel sympathetic pain.
One of the inspirations for my coyote rib rite, actually.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
in case it hasnât been posted before, this is Smiteâs depiction of Horus and Set!! really pretty art, but they took a weird direction in designing Set in the likeness of a donkey??
important update: one of Set's taunts in game is literally "My first decree will be to outlaw salads. Why? I don't have to explain myself!"
in case it hasnât been posted before, this is Smiteâs depiction of Horus and Set!! really pretty art, but they took a weird direction in designing Set in the likeness of a donkey??
is the donkey because of the set animal?
Donkeys are one of Setâs sacred animals!đ
Oh, I didn't know that! I just assumed that they decided the Set animal was a donkey đ