#golden city jackal

[honeydudedraws]

ANOTHER DOG POST!!!!!!! LOVE ME SOME DOGS!!!

[lukochi]

Burnt cheese cookie and his jackal

(2 ver. glitch/normal)

[chernobog13]

Tonight's feature - The Groovy Disco Wolfman From Outer Space!

[dragonji]

man. thinking about my ghost city ocs again.

[serpentface]

Amarzi Kos nomad showing off his eagle.

---

'Kos' as an ethnonym groups a set of closely linguistically/culturally related peoples who make up most of the population of Kosov, one of three omas (a large territorial division with its own regional government) of the contemporary Burri Republic. 'Amarzi Kos' refers to a group of nomadic pastoralists who occupy southeastern edge of the Grajyi plateau steppe that effectively forms Bur's western border.

Kosov is the largest of the Burri omas, encompassing the easternmost edge of the Daginarya mountain range and a small portion of the high altitude Grajyi plateau. Kosov is landlocked and sparsely populated across much of its territory. The majority of its people and cities are clustered along the Hsuke river valley system, its tributaries, and the lush, rainy southern foothills (all of which are highly favorable for agriculture). At higher elevations, most people practice seasonal transhumance to and from mountain pastures, alongside terrace farming of hardier high altitude crops.

The Grajyi plateau is a different story. Its entire span falls into subtropical latitudes, but it is substantially cooler year-round than the lowlands, and experiences much less rainfall. The vast majority of the plateau is wholly unfavorable to agriculture (being mostly grassland with areas of cold desert), and subsistence depends almost entirely upon the herding and grazing of livestock for dairy, blood, wool, and dry dung fuel. Amarzi Kos pastoralists mostly rear horses and khait, and do not typically slaughter their livestock unless as an act of desperation. Almost all meat in their diet comes from hunted game, and most hunting is accomplished with falconry.

Falconry is of significant cultural import across much of the broader Burri sphere, largely as a leisure activity for nobility and the otherwise wealthy. To Amarzi Kos nomads, it is instead a matter of core subsistence, providing meat during harsh winters and furs for warm clothing and trade. The two raptor species most commonly used on the high steppe are the golden eagle (shown here) and the black falcon (similar to a gyrfalcon in size). The golden eagle is often used for its great size and strength to catch fairly large game such as jackals, the niive cat (a dogsized predator), migratory geese, and even (small) gazelles. The black falcon is used predominantly to hunt mid-sized birds, especially grouse and pheasants.

Men do the majority of the hunting during the winter while most women and young children attend to the livestock, cooking, and weaving. Women participating in falconry is culturally acceptable, though they will usually be given falcons as handling golden eagles is considered to be men's work. A boy's first successful eagle-hunt (which they will begin participating in as a teenager, using one of their father's birds) is a hallmark of coming of age and indicates that they are ready to trap their own bird.

The god Gen Yanna, a very minor deity of falconry in the broader Burri pantheon, has an expanded role in the religious practice of Amarzi Kos nomads (and some other groups on the plateau). Here he is re-contextualized as not just a falconry god, but the patron deity of Grajyi steppe and father of its people. Ethnic Amarzi Kos claim to directly descend from him, via a lowlands Kos woman he abducted as a bride long ago. He is the one who taught his descendants how to capture and train wild birds for falconry (and gets credits for teaching some other facets of high-steppe culture as well, such as an alcoholic fermented horsemilk drink, and the flying of dragon kites to ward off evil). He himself owns ten legendary birds, including a fearsome dragon he bound with a divine bridle and uses for hunting and as a flying mount (dragons in the Burri sphere are gigantic birds with 2-4 reptillian legs, feathered wings, and the head of a cockerel).

Across most of the greater Burri sphere, shrines to the gods have fixed locations within homes and town/city temples. This isn't practical for nomadic pastoralists, who instead build shrines along migratory/trade routes and visit as they pass by in their yearly journeys. These shrines are cairns (structured as a low outer stone fence surrounding an inner rock pile) upon which offerings to the shrine's assigned deity can be placed. The biggest shrines (built up from centuries of travelers adding stones) become de-facto focal points of religious practice and are referred to as sky temples.

The great sky temple to Gen Yanna is visited by most families on a yearly basis as they pass nearby, in order to pay respects to their divine ancestor and request his boon during the lean winter months. In addition to sprinkled offerings of milk, yogurt, and alcohol, a falconer will leave some of their bird's feathers at the shrine. This temple is surrounded by tall wooden stakes to which visitors tie their offerings, and the god's presence is felt in the sound of hundreds of feathers fluttering in the breeze.

[the-offside-rule]

Marc Spector & Steven Grant (Moonknight) - First of Many Times

Requested: yes

Warnings: getting a blow to the side of the head ig

Divine Intervention Series

The crisp London air wrapped around Y/n as she strolled through the quiet streets, the faint sound of traffic in the distance. The city had always felt alive to her, but tonight, something was different. There was a tension in the air, a pull she couldn’t quite place. As she walked, she could sense them, Anubis and Set, following her from a distance, their ancient presence both comforting and unnerving.

Anubis, the god of the dead, was always with her, watching over her like a silent protector. She had grown accustomed to his presence, his whispered guidance in times of danger. But Set, the god of chaos, was different. He lingered in the shadows, unpredictable and volatile. "This place is a dump." Set snarled. Y/n couldnt exactly disagree; London was a dump. She came here to get away from the troubles that her home town gave her, now she had to worry about an overpriced, overhyped dump of a city? She looked to her left, seeing Set looking around as if this whole place was beneath him. Though Y/n had never allowed him to possess her, she could feel his chaotic energy stirring. Tonight, it was sharper, more insistent.

As she turned a corner, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. "Why have you stopped now you insufferable-" Something was wrong. Glancing up, Y/n froze. Perched on the rooftop of a nearby apartment building was an Egyptian jackal, its eyes glowing eerily in the dim streetlight. It stared down at her, its presence a clear sign of danger. "Anubis." Y/n muttered, her eyes narrowing. "That’s not one of yours." Anubis’s voice echoed in her mind, deep and calm. "Indeed. Something evil stirs. Be cautious, Y/n."

Without hesitation she walked into a nearby alleyway, and she summoned her ceremonial armor, feeling the familiar weight of the golden chestplate and gauntlets settling over her body. The jackal snarled, baring its sharp teeth, as if sensing the shift in the air. Before Y/n could react, Set’s voice slithered into her thoughts. "Let me handle this for once. Chaos calls to chaos." For a split second, she hesitated. Anubis always inhabited her during battle, guiding her with precision and skill. But tonight, she felt the pull of Set’s power, raw and tempting. Before she could protest, Set seized the opportunity and forced his way in.

The change was immediate. Her vision sharpened, and her movements became faster, more erratic. There was a wildness in her actions now, a reckless abandon she had never experienced before. With a fierce battle cry, Y/n leaped towards the rooftop, landing in front of the snarling jackal. Set’s chaotic influence coursed through her as she struck at the creature, each blow landing with unnerving precision. The jackal was strong, but under Set’s control, Y/n fought with relentless aggression, overpowering the beast with raw strength and unpredictable tactics.

As the fight raged, another figure appeared; an avatar, masked and radiating power. They moved with practiced ease, stepping into the battle as if they had been waiting for this moment. In the chaos, Y/n barely noticed the figure until she collided with them, thrown off balance by their sudden presence. The jackal staggered back under her final strike, crumpling to the ground in defeat. Y/n turned, breathing heavily, only to be met with a hard impact to the side of her head. The world blurred, spinning around her as she dropped to her knees. The last thing she saw was the masked figure looming over her before everything went black.

When Y/n awoke, her head throbbed with a dull ache. Blinking, she found herself in an unfamiliar apartment. The room was dimly lit, save for the soft glow of an enormous fish tank occupying an entire wall. A single goldfish inhabited the tank, it'smovements strangely calming. She moved her arm, but not very far without it clicking for some reason. Her eyes lifted from the fishtank to the chains around her wrists, and when she looked to her ankles, another set. "What kind of weirdo has chains on their bed?" She mumbled. As she glanced around the room, she spotted a mirror, realizing she was still suited and masked. Hearing a rustling sound nearby, she turned to see a man sitting at a small table, a cup of tea in his hand.

“You’re awake.” He said, his voice clipped and... American? Y/n’s brow furrowed. She knew this man, she had seen him working at the museum gift shop just a few weeks ago. Steven Grant. But this wasn’t Steven. The accent, the demeanor, it was all wrong. "Do you usually chain girls to your bed? Let me tell you, it's not a great look nowadays." She said coyly. Steven groaned. "Believe me, I didn't want to chain you there but I thought you'd try escape if you were restrained so here we are." Silence fell between them.

“I made tea.” He continued, glancing at her briefly before looking away. “I dont want tea.” She mumbled back. "Well good, I only made one cup."

"Then why mention it?"

"Start a conversation?"

"How's that going for you?"

"Well, we're conversing aren't we?"

Y/n’s mind raced. He didn’t know who she was, couldn’t see through her mask. And it seemed he didn’t realize she knew him either, well, not exactly him. Set stirred restlessly inside her, eager to break the chains and slaughter the man for even daring to capture them, but she pushed him aside, focusing on 'Steven' before her. He bombarded her with questions, his voice gruff and demanding. “Who are you? What happened out there? What’s your deal?” Frustration flared in Y/n’s chest as Steven kept firing the questions at her, not even giving her a chance to think of an answer, and before she could stop herself, she shouted. “Steven, stop!”

He froze, confusion flickering across his face. “Steven?” Realization dawned slowly. “I’m Marc.” He said, his expression hardening. “Steven doesn’t front during confrontations like this. Wait- how do you know about him?” Y/n stared at him in silence for a moment before her suit melted away, revealing her unmasked face. Marc’s eyes widened in surprise, but before he could react, there was a flicker in his gaze, and Steven surfaced. His British accent returned as he blinked at her, clearly startled.

“Oh my days.” Steven muttered, clearly panicking and walking towards her with the key to the cuffs. “Are you alright? I-I didn’t mean for Marc to- well, he didn’t mean to either. It’s just that things get a bit tricky when- you know.” Y/n looked at him confused as the suit vanished and her rain-drenched clothes were all that was left. "Who's Marc?" She asked as Steven unlocked the cuffs. "Long story, but he's like another version of me. We all co-exist." He replied. "All? What do you mean 'all', Steven?" Y/n sighed, exhaustion pressing down on her shoulders. "Well, Jake's in there too. He's actually the reason I got my job back in the museum." He chirped as if this was all just normal. "Is this why you went to the exhibition? For the whole being a new avatar thing?" He smiled as he chucked the chains to the side and let Y/n sit up.

“No, no. Ive been an avatar for a while now. I just wanted to know what being the avatar for... two gods meant.” Steven’s eyes widened even more, and he nervously adjusted his sleeves. “Two gods, huh? That’s, um... complicated. More than usual, I’d say.” He paused, his mind racing. “You could stay here. Y'know, just until you figure things out. We’ve got plenty of room, and... well, someone’s got to help sort this out, right?” Y/n looked at Steven, soft, nervous, completely out of his depth and for the first time that night, she felt a strange sense of relief. "Steven, I can't ask you to do this." She replied. "Oh please, whats the worst that could happen?"

[sugarcreambiteskingdom]

HIIIIIHHIHIHI!!!!1!1!1!1! Hru?? R u good??? Burnt cheese cookie x reader fluffy fluffy fooo pls pls pls 😔😔 my boy is underrated and I love him smsmsmsmsmsm

Cream Oreo Cookie: YOU DON'T HAVE TO TELL ME TWICE THIS BOY NEEDS MORE LOVE THAN ME (JK BUT MY POINT STILL STANDS!!!)

He doesn't know why but he starts to feel weird whenever his around you

He wasn't sure how or why but all he knows is when you went and gave him a hug for the very first time his face burned and his stomach had...insects? In the crawling around...and even his heart started pounding on his chest

At first he thought it was dark magic but if it was dark magic then how can you be so pure and got yourself through the gates?

Because of that he went and ask for help from Mozzarella Cookie and goodness did he made the mistake of going to her because it went like this

Mozzarella Cookie: YOU HAVE A CRUSH ON Y/N COOKIE!?

Burnt Cheese Cookie: Excuse me?

After Mozzarella Cookie went and told Smoked Cheese Cookie and The Radiance Herself Golden Cheese Cookie they all tried helping him to confess to Y/N Cookie

AND GOODNESS WAS THAT HARD BECAUSE MY BOY JUST STANDS THERE LOOKING AT YOU AND AFTER A MINUTE OR TWO HE WOULD JUST SAY...

Burnt Cheese Cookie: Hi...

Y/N Cookie: Hello Burnt Cheese Cookie...I- uh....may I ask why it took you 2-3 minutes to say that? Just asking...

Burnt Cheese Cookie: I don't...know...

He was not that good at confessing so you just went and did it for him kissing him

After that kiss he immediately grabbed you and just doesn't want to let you go

He likes- no...LOVES physical affection and cuddles with you whenever he can

And yes the Jackals AND snakes will come and cuddle alongside you too

If someone tries to hurt you in anyway Burnt Cheese Cookie will get his Snakes and Jackals to go fort and crumble that Cookie but if her radiance does not allow that he would just throw them out of the Golden Cheese City

He will always hold your hand if you ever wanted to walk or have a date

He doesn't care where you two go he just wants to be your Guard and Lover and just be there for you and hold you close

[the-pea-braned-warlock]

Do you like Setra's title?

Great King

the Imperishable

Khemrikhara

The Great King of Nehekhara

King of Kings

Opener of the Way

Wielder of the Divine Flame

Punisher of Nomads

The Great Unifier

Commander of the Golden Legion

Sacred of Appearance

Bringer of Light

Father of Hawks

Builder of Cities

Protector of the Two Worlds

Keeper of the Hours

Chosen of Ptra

High Steward of the Horizon

Sailor of the Great Vitae

Sentinel of the Two Realms

The Undisputed

Begetter of the Begat

Scourge of the Faithless

Carrion-feeder

First of the Charnel Valley

Rider of the Sacred Chariot

Vanquisher of Vermin

Champion of the Death Arena

Mighty Lion of the Infinite Desert

Emperor of the Shifting Sands

He Who Holds The Sceptre

Great Hawk Of The Heavens

Arch-Sultan of Atalan

Waker of the Hierotitan

Monarch of the Sky

Majestic Emperor of the Shifting Sands

Champion of the Desert Gods

Breaker of the Ogre Clans

Builder of the Great Pyramid

Terror of the Living

Master of the Never-Ending Horizon

Master of the Necropolises

Taker of Souls

Tyrant to the Foolish

Bearer of Ptra's Holy Blade

Scion of Usirian

Scion of Nehek

The Great

Chaser of Nightmares

Keeper of the Royal Herat

Founder of the Mortuary Cult

Banisher of the Grand Hierophant

High Lord Admiral of the Deathfleets

Guardian of the Charnal Pass

Tamer of the Liche King

Unliving Jackal Lord

Dismisser of the Warrior Queen

Charioteer of the Gods

He Who Does Not Serve

Slayer off Reddittras

Scarab Purger

Favoured of Usirian

Player of the Great Game

Liberator of Life

Lord Sand

Wrangler of Scorpions

Emperor of the Dunes

Eternal Sovereign of Khemri's Legions

Seneschal of the Great Sandy Desert

Curserer of the Living

Regent of the Eastern Mountains

Warden of the Eternal Necropolis

Herald of all Heralds

Caller of the Bitter Wind

God-Tamer

Master of the Mortis River

Guardian of the Dead

Great Keeper of the Obelisks

Deacon of the Ash River

Belated of Wakers

General of the Mighty Frame

Summoner of Sandstorms

Master of all Necrotects

Prince of Dust

Tyrant of Araby

Purger of the Greenskin Breathers

Killer of the False God's Champions

Tyrant of the Gold Dunes

Golden Bone Lord

Avenger of the Dead

Carrion Master

Eternal Warden of Nehek's Lands

Breaker of Djaf's Bonds

Which one :)

[cookiesrunaus-whitelily]

An Simple FanArt Au and a Question: What are daily routine of White Lily in each Kingdoms and do she has subjects?

Note: I enjoy all of your Aus, that sometimes I wanna make some Fan Art about your Aus :>

first, about the fanart, I've literally been screaming with excitement for an hour, it's beautiful!!!! Thank you!!! Thank you so much!

And now about the question, Lily's daily routine varies in the realms, but sometimes they are similar in one thing.

In the Vanilla Kingdom, White Lily locks herself in the library or is locked in the special room that Vanilla built for her, if she goes out, she has to be accompanied by either Vanilla or one of his followers.

In Hollyberry Kingdom, White Lily goes out more to Holly's side, she doesn't allow her to leave her side at any time, she only leaves her alone when accompanied by Royalberry, she is strictly forbidden to leave the palace without at least Wildberry accompanying her.

In Golden Cheese Kingdom, it is the same as with Holly, Cheese does not let her go too far away or leave her side, she always keeps Marzipan cookies alert for her, their mission is to watch over her and take care of her, Rich Cheese is the only one who can get close to her since she is her daughter.

In Dark Cacao Kingdom she is not left alone either, the soldiers are ordered to stay close to her no matter what, but they are also forbidden to talk to her or look at her for too long, Dark Cacao lets Lily lock herself in her room, when they are alone, Dark Cacao is in charge of giving her affection, although he knows she is still a little scared of him.

So in essence, White Lily's routine boils down to being locked up, not being able to walk without at least one guard guarding her, and staying with her lovers as much as possible.

Lily does not have subjects, since technically she was not taken as the official wife of any of them, only consort, but she does have her favorite subjects from everyone's kingdoms.

In the Vanilla Kingdom, she usually talks a lot with Light Cream and Grand Madeleine, Light Cream is one of her companion maids and Grand Madeleine is her guardian.

In Hollyberry Kingdom, she loves being with Wildberry, seeing him as a son too, and she is also close to Pitaya, only they often come and go.

In Golden Cheese Kingdom, she is close to Smoked Cheese, Mozzarella Cookie, Burnt Cheese and Fettuccine Cookie, Smoked and Mozzarella are the ones who protect her within the city, Burnt Cheese is the one who always sends one of his jackals to take care of her too, Fettucine is like a little companion who follows her, seeing her as another daughter and sometimes walks with her, carrying her or holding hands.

In Dark Cacao Kingdom, she has only been able to converse with a few cookies, so it is only them that she trusts, Caramel Arrow and Affogato, she knew Caramel as the little girl she played with when she had time, and Affogato, being a counselor, talk to him, Affogato secretly passes her gummies or desserts, since she is not allowed to eat anything without the help of Dark Cacao.

Thanks again for the Fanart!!! I LOVE IT!!!

[northirish]

Hey Mike you should drink some water today! Big font! 💧

I, Settra, the Great King, the Imperishable, Khemrikhara, The Great King of Nehekhara, King of Kings, Opener of the Way, Wielder of the Divine Flame, Punisher of Nomads, The Great Unifier, Commander of the Golden Legion, Sacred of Appearance, Bringer of Light, Father of Hawks, Builder of Cities, Protector of the Two Worlds, Keeper of the Hours, Chosen of Ptra, High Steward of the Horizon, Sailor of the Great Vitae, Sentinel of the Two Realms, The Undisputed, Begetter of the Begat, Scourge of the Faithless, Carrion-feeder, First of the Charnel Valley, Rider of the Sacred Chariot, Vanquisher of Vermin, Champion of the Death Arena, Mighty Lion of the Infinite Desert, Emperor of the Shifting Sands, He Who Holds The Sceptre, Great Hawk Of The Heavens, Arch-Sultan of Atalan, Waker of the Hierotitan, Monarch of the Sky, Majestic Emperor of the Shifting Sands, Champion of the Desert Gods, Breaker of the Ogre Clans, Builder of the Great Pyramid, Terror of the Living, Master of the Never-Ending Horizon, Master of the Necropolises, Taker of Souls, Tyrant to the Foolish, Bearer of Ptra's Holy Blade, Scion of Usirian, Scion of Nehek, The Great, Chaser of Nightmares, Keeper of the Royal Herat, Founder of the Mortuary Cult, Banisher of the Grand Hierophant, High Lord Admiral of the Deathfleets, Guardian of the Charnal Pass, Tamer of the Liche King, Unliving Jackal Lord, Dismisser of the Warrior Queen, Charioteer of the Gods, He Who Does Not Serve, Slayer off Reddittras, Scarab Purger, Favoured of Usirian, Player of the Great Game, Liberator of Life, Lord Sand, Wrangler of Scorpions, Emperor of the Dunes, Eternal Sovereign of Khemri's Legions, Seneschal of the Great Sandy Desert, Curserer of the Living, Regent of the Eastern Mountains, Warden of the Eternal Necropolis, Herald of all Heralds, Caller of the Bitter Wind, God-Tamer, Master of the Mortis River, Guardian of the Dead, Great Keeper of the Obelisks, Deacon of the Ash River, Belated of Wakers, General of the Mighty Frame, Summoner of Sandstorms, Master of all Necrotects, Prince of Dust, Tyrant of Araby, Purger of the Greenskin Breathers, Killer of the False God's Champions, Tyrant of the Gold Dunes, Golden Bone Lord, Avenger of the Dead, Carrion Master, Eternal Warden of Nehek's Lands, Breaker of Djaf's Bonds… and many, many more titles… Do not need water, I look great.

[bells-of-black-sunday]

𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐬 + 𝐕𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨 — 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐀𝐮

What do you do when you're raised in a society that completely opposes your ideals?

Vittorio was a young mage born into a noble Noxian family, he never cared for the violence. The mindless assertations of dominance, the politics... Unfortunately he had to follow strength, vision, and guile to their fullest. He was one of the heirs to the family name and yet after accidentally killing a sparring partner he refused to pick up the blade again. After countless nights arguing with his parents and siblings, he was sent to live with his uncle hoping at least his mind could still be put to use. He was a skilled mage after all and his magic could still be honed even if he wasn't willing to strike. Vittorio was a star pupil under his uncle's guiding, unlike his family he saw his pacifism as something to be commended. Wars were not won with brute strength alone, what were soldiers without the medics to heal their wounds or the tacticians that guided them?

You couldn't beat your political opponent into a bloody pulp and expect everything to go your way, but the mind. The mind was a sharper weapon that could be forged and sharpened into any tool you needed it to be. Even if him and Vittorio's ideals didn't see eye to eye all the time, they were at least agreeable and nothing was ever pushed on him. Even when the mage was caught poking around books his Uncle had locked up for a reason he didn't reprimand him. They were family secrets that if they were to get out and into the wrong hands could end horribly, for once Vittorio was trusted with something important. Someone believed in him to do the right thing. Protect these secrets and not tell another soul. He did, but not without pouring over the contents of the books.

He fervently read about ancient warriors that protected the great empire before it fell to ruin, beings who were of the Gods themselves. Oxen, crocodiles, jackals, beetles, all humanity chosen for a greater purpose that was protecting the good of the world. Perhaps even guide humanity into a golden age of prosperity, a paradise where people wouldn't suffer strife or hardship. His uncle called him mad, warning him of the danger these beings actually possessed telling tales of dark magic the mage hardly believed. Vittorio scoffed, what danger was there? There was no danger in at least looking further into these myths, finding out the truth of the secrets they'd been hiding for so long. The worn text gave no specifics and several pages had been presumably torn out and lost to time, great chunks of Runeterra's history nothing, but dust somewhere. He had to get to the bottom of it. What were these beings? What wasn't the book telling him?

It didn't take long for him to start gathering his notes, writing down prime locations and rumors to hunt down. His search pushed him to corners of the city he'd never travel alone, but he had to know. That is when his Uncle died mysteriously in his sleep. Before Vittorio could process it the weight of his uncle's estate was pushed on his shoulders. He had to escape. Get lost in his search lying about how this could be great use to his studies into magic and runes. He traveled alone, huddled in a cloak, nothing like his status to try and not draw attention in the outside towns of the desert and hills. He tracked down lead after lead after lead until he felt he had exhausted everything, his time and his money gone to the wind. He'd been gone for nearly a year and had nothing to show for it, just another wild goose chase for a family name that never cared about him.

He had huddled up in a cave to outlast a storm that'd rolled through combing through his notes to what he could've missed. Anything to make this search worth it or at least give him another lead to chase. That's when he heard the voice calling. Something deep, rumbling, almost purring like a cat. Calling him further into the cave. Vittorio was skeptical, originally not wanting to follow, but he didn't want to miss another opportunity. He lit a torch carrying it deeper and deeper into the maw of the earth, until he reached a stone wall. The voice still humming in his head he could feel it getting stronger behind the stone and the closer he looked the more he seen runes so faint now they were only scratches. Crude things. Hasty. Like a prison you'd make to drop something you didn't want found, a tomb. The runes matched his notes from one of the books in his Uncle's collection. He was ecstatic! Countless tireless nights of walking and facing the harsh elements and he had actually found it! What an unbefitting resting place for a God, locked behind a stone wall unable to leave, humanity abandoning it and it's kin, but why?

The voice preened like it could hear his thoughts, it's voice echoing in his mind speaking of long forgotten history. How humanity abandoned it's protectors after the void chewed a hole into the world, with it being dead, they were gotten rid of. Forced to be prisoners in their own body by the aspects, reduced down to mere weapons to be forgotten. The God was a well of knowledge of things long forgotten... things Vittorio wasn't even sure Swain himself knew about. Tempting fate he worked more countless hours to decipher the way to open the door, conversing with the being behind it like they were old friends. Tarhos was the voice, a God of war. A protector and his new benefactor. He had already crawled his way into the void of loneliness that had grown since Vittorio was a child, they were both outcasts. Both deemed unwanted and unneeded. Vittorio was grateful to have a friend. Someone to share his thoughts with and match his wit with his own.

It took several more days of tinkering burning through the last of his food reserves and drinking from the water that dripped off the stalactites hoping it was at least cleaner than the stagnant pools. The door opened with little fanfare, more like moving the headstone off a sarcophagus. The room was old. Dusty. Things put into a space to be forgotten and never found, old books far to wet to be salvageable, artifacts from a different time that looked like they'd break if you touched them. It was small, but he had bigger things to worry about. He followed Tarhos's voice until he came across a covered blade shamefully placed into a pool of water and covered with cloth like they'd hope it'd rust away. Vittorio felt bad for the creature. It was kept in water numbing it's senses and left completely blind for Gods know how long. He carefully picked it up and that's when his mind went blank.

His body convulsing and writhing as he unknowingly struggled for control over his own mind and body, new tattoos sprouting over his skin and glowing with immeasurable power the being within the blade fighting to take purchase. He didn't know how long he was on the floor for, waking up in a panic as he forgot where he was and taking a moment to gather his senses in the dark. His nose was bleeding, his body ached and his hand was still on the sword who seemed far more annoyed than pleased to see him now. He could feel it's steady heartbeat under his fingers, hear it's own thoughts of he listened close enough. What had happened? Tarhos gave little answer that was satisfying. Great. He had made friends with a parasitic being who now wanted a host, the only good part is that he still owned his own body. The bad part was now he had to deal with the knowledge that if anyone found out he had such a weapon, there'd be a bounty on his head. Truth be told, he'd be shocked if there wasn't one already.

Out of food and conflicted if he should consider the God in his possession friend or foe, he had to gather himself and leave. Get more supplies and keep moving. As annoying as the bickering was between what the blade thought was best, he'd be hard pressed to say he despised the creature. Not yet at least. He couldn't trust it, but... it was only something acting out of necessity. It was understandable it's actions even if he didn't care for them, it was a wretched creature that would lie and deceive it's way into getting what it wanted. An animal acting out of instinct and something at the very least worth studying. The months he'd been gone on this journey ticked over into a year and he found himself regrettably in dragon territory. Far from where he wanted to be, but such is the way of hitching rides from strangers who weren't always honest about where they were going. The blade was tolerable now, he was fully in control aside from the occasional twitch of muscle when it got mad over something. Tarhos was a strange being, oddly genuine in its beliefs and feelings. Most of all, Vittorio had grown fond of it again. The long empty road trying to learn more would be a lot less pleasant without someone to talk to and relay stories between.

He learned it's favorite foods, most of which he'd never heard of and didn't even know if still existed. How what he remember of ancient Shurima was like, but most importantly, how human it was. How faulty it's memory was reminded him of elders recounting memories of their youth, idealistic versions of the past that give a glimpse more at the person than the era. He learned that Tarhos was a slave that had earned his freedom and later ascension, he was as old as at least before the fall of the empire and that he really longed for a home that no longer existed. It was sad really. Vittorio couldn't fathom why the aspects would lock them inside their own weapons, surely there could've been something better right? Why did they even do it in the first place? Tarhos was really brief with that part of it and truth be told Vittorio didn't want to pry when he didn't need to. He was chasing down a lead that should be able to tell him in an honest way, a traveling Shuriman story teller held up near the Noxian Demacian border and here he was stuck in the mountains, because people care about coin more than being honest.

He walked along the well worn path deep in his notes. Days camping and wandering when he felt Tarhos get tense, that was enough to startle him. Many times they had to flee bandits even wildlife, but... the blade was never wrong. Tarhos knew danger when he sensed it, his voice calm, but warning of a patrol. He had to stay close to the alcoves, get as much cover as possible so that they would not be spotted by the possible mage hunters. Vittorio's tattoos were a dead give away and Demacia certainly wouldn't be kind to him if he were caught with a talking blade too. He scrambled through the rocks listening for footsteps when his mind went blank just like in the cave and when he awoke he was standing over the corpse of a slain drake. It's frail body already injured from a battle with one of it's kin, a crime of opportunity carefully guided by the blades hand. Vittorio panicked looking at the blood covering his skin, terror wrenching over him as he stared at the actions the God had made his body do. He couldn't even pull the blade free, his body frozen in fear watching the parasite work.

The dragons pale body convulsed, screaming, writhing against the stone Vittorio had been guided to. It's wings shriveling away, it's bones snapping and realigning themselves into something else. Scales forming thick plates like a helmet, feathers turning blood red and the wind it used to harness now falling out of its back like a great inferno. A parasite taking over, taking advantage of an opportunity and using Vittorio's body to do so. Vittorio felt sick. Vomiting as he fell to his knees unable to watch the sight before him any longer. He had been foolish, his want for companionship, a friend to share his misery with making him blind to the beasts true intentions. It never cared about him, but whether he liked it or not, it was his responsibility now. It's insatiable hunger had to be stopped and he had to find the answer, something different this time. Tarhos was a God, but one that had been imprisoned before. He'd find a way again, give the God a peaceful rest in a trench where no one could find it.

Vittorio and Tarhos have a tenuous alliance, Tarhos absolutely knows Vittorio wants to find a way to imprison him for good, but Tarhos still has partial control over the mage's body. Part of his blood courses through his veins and he knows Vittorio is going to follow him wherever he goes. He views Vittorio as more of a back up in case his current body dies, more like a pet than a friend. Vittorio is more complicated, he certainly doesn't view Tarhos as a friend, but he's the only person he has left and he'd rather not spend all night and day bickering.

They're most commonly seen wandering the Noxian wilds, they're more myths and Vittorio is assumed dead by most Noxian nobility. Killed over family secrets and his uncle's line died with him. He hardly ever goes back to the city, he doesn't trust Tarhos to stay put for long and he certainly can't bring him anywhere close without someone taking notice.

Tarhos has to feed to maintain himself, wreaking havoc on the countryside is a good way to do it. It falls in line with everything else in the harsh wastes and killing the occasional Noxian patrol isn't going to hurt anything. (It does, Vittorio just makes greater efforts to try to hoard him closer to Demacia to avoid detection even if it doesn't work)

Tarhos views all humans as lesser, their lives are a mere blink in his eye and he will not entertain their struggles unless they amuse him. He absolutely views himself as a pampered God, preening himself with old tales of glory and the golds he used to adorn himself in. Dreaming of the old empire, before it abandoned him, to keep himself sane. He never tells Vittorio the whole truth, he doesn't think he deserves to know, but they share dreams and Vittorio gets at least some insight through his nightmares.

Ultimately until Vittorio figures out exactly what Tarhos's plan is, if he even has one, he often battles his will to keep him away from Shurima and staying on the mainland. He doesn't trust that there isn't more world ending parasitic beings there or even something worse and he desperately is chasing leads trying to untangle everything.

Truth be told, unlike most darkin, Tarhos is content with his freedom. He doesn't desire to end the world, so that they'll all be free of their torment, he knows chasing what they used to be is a fleeting dream. If anything he's content with starting his own religion dedicated to him, so at the very least he can be worshiped like he deserves and have others to talk to besides the spoiled brat who keeps yapping incessantly about history.

They absolutely still butt heads over whose fault it is. Tarhos blames Vittorio for being naive, he thinks his pacifism is idiotic for someone whose entire bloodline is built on blood even more so. He hails from a nation that preaches strength and honor, but... he couldn't even keep his own families secrets. He didn't have to chase him down, he didn't have to chase any darkin down, he could've stayed home and studied. Vittorio blames Tarhos for using him for his own personal gain, using his body to betray his own ideals. He could've been honest about what he was and yet here they are stuck with each other, because Tarhos's fears prevented him from even a chance at finding another solution. Needless to say, they will endlessly argue and thus try their best to avoid the subject.

Vittorio isn't always with Tarhos, but he's usually in the general area. Less than a days travel so he can easily find him again in case the God goes and commits more atrocities in the name of hunger. He has a piece of his broken blade as a compass that always points back to him in case he needs guidance. But sometimes he genuinely needs the space, he sees Tarhos as his responsibility of course, but... being able to get away from the stress of it all is something he needs. He hasn't had any real time to process anything from his uncle's death to being used by a abomination.

Really the only thing that keeps them together is they both have a profound sense of loneliness the other fills. They're both outcast from their own societies and Tarhos has been alone with his own suffocating thoughts for who knows how long. It's a toxic friendship that you could barely call one, more of an alliance where they both want opposite things, but are forced to interact and hang out, because of the pact they sealed.

[egypt-museum]

Asyut Dog

The spectacular “Asyut Dog” is a large limestone statue of what may be a dog, a wolf or a golden jackal – the latter is the most likely. The statue is thought to come from the area surrounding the city of Asyut in Middle Egypt, and more specifically from the vicinity of its sacred animal cemetery.

In ancient Egypt, sculptures of dogs and jackals were indeed significant and had various symbolic meanings. Asyut, located in Upper Egypt, was an important center where such sculptures were found.

Sculptures of dogs and jackals in Asyut and other parts of Egypt were often placed in tombs and funerary contexts, serving as protective guardians and guides for the deceased in the afterlife.

Ptolemaic Period to Roman Period, ca. 100 BC - 100 CE. Now in the Louvre. E 11657

Read more

[sometipsygnostalgic]

Settra, known by many titles such as Settra the Imperishable, the King of Kings, High King of Nehekhara, the Khemrikara, Lord of the Earth, Monarch of the Sky, Ruler of the Four Horizons, Mighty Lion of the Infinite Desert, Great Hawk of the Heavens, Majestic Emperor of the Shifting Sands, Eternal Sovereign of Khemri's Legions, Opener of the Way, Wielder of the Divine Flame, Punisher of Nomads The Great Unifier, Commander of the Golden Legion, Sacred of Appearance, Bringer of Light, Father of Hawks, Builder of Cities, Protector of the Two Worlds, Keeper of the Hours, Chosen of Ptra, High Steward of the Horizon, Sailor of the Great Vitae, Sentinel of the Two Realms, The Undisputed, Begetter of the Begat, Scourge of the Faithless, Carrion-feeder, First of the Charnel Valley, Rider of the Sacred Chariot, Vanquisher of Vermin, Champion of the Death Arena, He Who Holds The Sceptre, Arch-sultan of Atalan, Waker of the Hierotitan, Monarch of the Sky, Champion of the Desert Gods, Breaker of the Ogre Clans, Builder of the Great Pyramid, Terror of the Living, Master of the Never-Ending Horizon, Master of the Necropolises, Taker of Souls, Tyrant to the Foolish, Bearer of Ptra's Holy Blade, Scion of Usirian, Scion of Nehek, Settra the Great, Chaser of Nightmares, Keeper of the Royal Heart, Founder of the Mortuary Cult, Banisher of the Grand Hierophant, High Lord Admiral of the Deathfleets, Guardian of the Charnal Pass, Tamer of the Liche King, Unliving Jackal Lord, Dismisser of the Warrior Queen, Charioteer of the Gods, He Who Does Not Serve, Slayer of Redditras, Scarab Purger, Favoured of Usirian, Player of the Great Game, Liberator of Life, Lord Sand, Wrangler of Scorpions, Emperor of the Dunes, Seneschal of the Great Sandy Desert, Curserer of the Living, Regent of the Eastern Mountains, Warden of the Eternal Necropolis, Herald of All Heralds, Caller of the Bitter Wind, God-Tamer, Master of the Mortis River, Guardian of the Dead, Great Keeper of the Obelisks, Deacon of the Ash River, Belated of Wakers, General of the Mighty Frame, Summoner of Sandstorms, Master of All Necrotects, Prince of Dust. Tyrant of Araby, Purger of the Greenskin Breathers, Killer of the False Gods' Champions, Tyrant of the Gold Dunes, Golden Bone Lord, Avenger of the Dead, Carrion Master, Eternal Warden of Nehek's Lands, Breaker of Djaf's Bonds and many more...

I REGRET ASKING

[maverick-werewolf]

Werewolf Fact #69 (dude!) - Ancient Egypt

Well, I thought this month would be about something else, but my patrons spoke differently! And I always listen to my patrons when it comes to folklore facts.

So, without further ado, let’s finally get back to werewolf facts! This is a big one, as it’s a lifelong favorite topic of mine!

An ancient Egyptian mask worn by a priest during rites performed for the dead, who would have “taken on the aspect” of the wolf-headed god Anubis

Let me just open by saying that I absolutely love ancient Egypt. It’s fascinated me since I was a small child and I was reading a tiny children’s book about cats, and ancient Egypt was discussed. Naturally, when I found out about Anubis, I was even more interested. Then came games like Age of Mythology and many movies... especially The Mummy (1999), of course. Anyway!

Ancient Egypt didn’t have a negative opinion of wolves. In fact, several important deities had wolf heads and were associated with wolves. Let’s begin with something that’s always interested me, which is the city of Lykopolis (as it was called in Greek)...

More under the cut, since this post got so lengthy!

Lykopolis (ancient Egyptian transliteration is something like “Zawty”) was an important city located on the western bank of the Nile, capital of the Thirteenth Nome of Upper Egypt during about 3100 BC. The primary deities of the city were - as you might imagine - Anubis and Wepwawet, both wolf-headed gods. Mummified wolves (golden wolves, not jackals; more on this momentarily) have been found in various excavated chambers throughout the city ruins, of which very little still survives.

The city has a very fun story behind it, as told by Greek historian Diodorus Siculus. In the first century BC, an army of Nubians invaded from the south - but they were repelled by packs of wolves. These wolves drove the army from the southern borders of Lykopolis and then back beyond the borders of Egypt. According to Diodorus, this is why Lykopolis was called “the city of the wolf” and revered wolves and wolf-deities so greatly.

Some sources claim that these wolves were summoned by the god Osiris, who was also worshiped as a wolf in Lykopolis, and had also, at one point, taken the form of a wolf. I will admit I personally haven’t read this source, as it’s in French, so I can’t fully attest to that element of the story - I haven’t seen that one cited very often in various specifically ancient Egypt history sources. Regardless, it’s fun if true. Either way, the tale of the wolves driving back Egypt’s enemies was definitely recounted in detail in a primary historical source!

By the way, you’ll hear a lot of people refer to these deities as “jackal-headed.” It’s very popular still to call Anubis the “jackal god.” We now know, though, that the animals in question were in fact not jackals - they were indeed wolves. Scientists for a long time asserted that they for some reason knew things better than the ancient Egyptians and Greeks who actually lived during the time period and retroactively dictated that they weren’t wolf gods, they were jackal gods.

However, the Egyptian jackal was discovered to be a species of gray wolf. You can read a lot about that here in this article, regarding how people didn’t believe wolves lived in the area during those time periods, but we found out they did, and we also found out that the mummified wolves in Lykopolis were - yes - wolves, like their contemporary cultures said.

A quote from the article: “the Egyptian jackal is in fact a gray wolf. ‘We now know that wolves were indeed in Africa in the days of the ancient Egyptians—and long, long before,’ says Stenseth.”

I honestly don’t know why everyone thought wolves couldn’t have lived in the area during these time periods (when we know perfectly well a wide variety of animals inhabited regions they no longer inhabit, and that we discover new species in the deserts even to this day) or decided the ancients didn’t know what they were talking about, but anyway...

Another fun fact, by the way, is that the word “jackal” didn’t even enter the English language until the 1600s, borrowed from French, which in turn was most likely borrowed from Persian - not Egyptian. The animals in Egypt were wolves, and we now know that they were also wolves scientifically. In fact, some scientists even believe it’s possible that jackals (as in actual scientific jackals, not golden wolves) didn’t find their way into the Egyptian region until much later, when these wolf gods would have been well-established. They may have followed travelers out of Arabia. This is speculation, though, but regardless, the long-believed-to-be “jackals” of ancient Egypt were all wolves. So it sounds like we should’ve believed the ancient Egyptians and Greeks in the first place, huh?

Long story short - Lykopolis was indeed a wolf city, wolves drove invaders out of Egypt, and Anubis, Wepwawet, and Duamutef were wolf gods. Not jackals.

Please note that there are those who would argue with me that some of them are jackals and some are wolves, or that they were all jackals, or whatever else, but in my personal opinion (and the opinion of many historians and scientists), it’s very clear across depictions, mummified wolves, historical accounts from both Egyptians and Greeks, etc., that these many Egyptian wolf-related beings were what we now call “golden wolves” or “Egyptian wolves” (and sometimes referred to as “jackals” still despite their genetics), which are indeed gray wolves, and not a species of true (genetic) jackals. There also exist theories that these wolves are something that no longer exists, and also that the modern animals we have are interbred wolves and jackals. Theories abound, whatever the case.

Then of course there are those who say that Anubis was the jackal-headed god and Wepwawet was the wolf-headed god, due in no small part to inherent biases that wolves only come in “gray.” I think those are all very silly, especially as we already know that colors in ancient Egypt were highly associated with ritual and meaning, rather than directly stating that Anubis’s head was black because he’s some kind of black-backed jackal - which don’t even have black heads, anyway. We have multiple associations between Anubis and wolves, and just because Wepwawet was often depicted with a grey or white head doesn’t make him a wolf and Anubis something different. Therefore, I personally will continue to refer to all of these as wolf-headed gods, and I apologize if that bothers anyone.

Sorry. Brief Mav-rant there. More important things to follow, because we haven’t even talked about those deities yet!

So now let’s talk about these gods themselves...

Anubis in the book of the dead (which was not actually a book)

Easily my favorite thing in all of ancient Egyptian mythology, Anubis (known by many other epithets, including but not at all limited to "Lord of the Sacred Land," "He Who is Upon his Sacred Mountain," "Master of Secrets," and "He Who is in the Place of Embalming”) is the god of the dead. He was the protector of graves, guardian of the dead, the shepherd of souls passing into the afterlife, and many more roles, including the ever-important Weighing of the Heart (as seen above), the results of which would dictate whether or not someone was allowed to enter the afterlife - or if their heart was devoured by the monster Ammit and their soul destroyed forever.

Anubis was depicted with the black head of a wolf. His head was colored black because black was the color associated with life, the life-giving soil of the Nile River, regeneration, and embalmed bodies, and he, of course, is also the god of mummification. Anubis is one of the single most important deities in all of ancient Egypt, depicted and mentioned very frequently, even more than most any other deity - however, despite this, there are almost no stories actually involving him.

But no, Anubis was not “evil,” as much of modern pop culture would have you believe! (Sorry The Mummy Returns, I love you to death, I really do - but it was super rude to make Anubis evil.)

Long story short, Anubis was freaking awesome, and there’s way too much to say about him and his awesomeness for just one post. Maybe I’ll do a separate post all about him later, because he’s a personal obsession of mine.

Anubis’s brother (at least, he is considered to be this by some) was the god Wepwawet, another wolf-headed deity. Wepwawet was a man with a white or grey head of a wolf (though some think he may have also had a black head like Anubis, but others claim that is not the cause and the coloring was on purpose as we have seen it in too many different places - still more claim it was just the artist’s preference; it’s hard to know any of these things for sure)...

Wepwawet with Pharaoh Seti I (try not to read that in Ardeth Bay’s voice, I dare you. I don’t know why you wouldn’t want to, though)

Like basically all deities of ancient Egypt, Wepwawet is a complicated god, a deity involved in some funerary rites, but especially associated with war and royalty. Wepwawet means “opener of the ways,” and he was depicted as a man with the head of a grey or white wolf, as well as wolf at the prow of a solar boat, sometimes said to lead armies, to scout, and even to have the honor of going before the pharaoh himself. He is also known by the title “one with sharp arrows more powerful than the gods.”

A very important god, Wepwawet is one of the oldest gods of Egypt ever recorded, and he was always associated directly with royalty and specially the pharaoh. He was said to accompany the pharaoh on his hunts, as well as protecting the pharaoh in life and the afterlife - he is a symbol of divinity of rule and of kings in general. He is, for certain, a very good deity, rather than some kind of evil wolf of Western literature.

And lastly among the prominent wolf-headed deities, we have one of the four sons of Horus, Duamutef...

The four sons of Horus were depicted upon the canopic jars (jars containing certain organs of the mummified dead) starting in the First Intermediate Period of Egyptian history, which was around 2181-2055 BC. Each deity protected a different important organ; Duamutef, the wolf-headed god, always protected the stomach and represented the direction of the east. Please note he was not always depicted with a black head like Anubis; sometimes he also had a white or grey head. It varied. Likewise, in later periods, the forms of these various gods were sometimes mixed up, and a different son of Horus would have the wolf head. These deities were depicted not only on the canopic jars, but also on many other funerary artifacts, including the sarcophagi that would contain the jars.

So we have all these wolf-headed deities... but does any of this tie into werewolves at all?

Well, it doesn’t, really. There seems to be no indication that Anubis, Wepwawet, Duamutef, or anyone else did any particular shapeshifting, and they certainly weren’t cursed. They were gods. Anubis and Wepwawet are both sometimes depicted as simply a wolf as opposed to a wolf-headed man - as many of the Egyptian gods are depicted as their animal counterparts, including Ra, Horus, Hathor, Sobek, and many, many others - but that’s merely his animal aspect counterpart. Depictions and aspects of the gods of ancient Egypt (and also, later, how Rome and Egypt intermingled some of their deities during the Roman occupation, such as Hermanubis) are extremely in-depth topics. I’ve always loved studying them, but they are immensely complicated - certainly far too complicated for this post! So let’s get back to the matter at hand...

I’ll be honest, I have yet to find a credibly-sourced legend that talks about anything like an ancient Egyptian “werewolf.” I’m pretty darn sure they didn’t have anything remotely like what we consider among actual werewolf legends, my friends, and especially none that meet my personal criteria. The ancient Greeks, however, absolutely did, as you probably know if you’ve spent time browsing my werewolf facts masterlist (link at the bottom of this post!).

Wolf-headed gods, however - yes, they definitely had those, and no, they were not “evil gods.” In fact, some of them were very highly revered and associated directly with necessary aspects of life and death, as well as with pharaohs.

Speaking of, if you love ancient Egypt (and also adventure movies), you should absolutely check out my new novella that came out just this past June - Wulfgard: The Tomb of Ankhu!

It is the first of two short novellas that tell an exciting tale about adventure, an ancient curse, mummies, memorable characters, and last but not least lots of Anubis and other legends, all of it set in the vast ancient-medieval dark age fantasy realm of Wulfgard: a world where all myths are true.

Every book release means the world to me, and this one is no different. I’m very proud of this story, and I really think you’ll enjoy it.

Deep in the southernmost deserts of Wulfgard lies the resting place of Pharaoh Ankhu the Endless, one of the greatest evils the land of Kemhet, or the world, has ever known. So terrible was his power that the gods themselves cursed him, sealing him away in an underground labyrinth. Ankhu rises with each darkening of the moon, a walking mummy, wandering this tomb in search of his own still-beating heart, without which he can never reach the afterlife.

Over untold ages, Ankhu’s tomb remained undiscovered, a secret protected always by the loyal Medjai, an order sworn to guard Kemhet from all threats. And now, a new threat has arisen: Lord Tefnahkt the Red, a powerful warlock, drives his cult and his many slaves to uncover Pharaoh Ankhu’s resting place and steal the mummy's power.

While a small group of Medjai desperately work to stop Tefnahkt’s plans, one slave may become the key to putting an end to this evil once and for all: Djedar Rath. In a race against time, Djedar must lead the Medjai to prevent Tefnahkt from opening the tomb of Ankhu before the coming of the new moon, when the undead Pharaoh will awaken once more. For, if Ankhu escapes, the world will never survive his wrath.

Inspired heavily by real-world ancient Egyptian and other mythologies - but with many original additions and elements - as well as the classic character-driven adventure genre that mixes aspects of action, thriller, and horror, with a tasteful sprinkling of levity, The Tomb of Ankhu is a tale of non-stop adventure and excitement that will leave you on the edge of your seat! Now available in ebook and paperback!

Go here to purchase on Amazon! https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C8897R1K

Readers have been really enjoying this one! The second one has been in the works for quite some time already, so expect news about that in the coming months, as well.

Hope you enjoyed the werewolf fact this month, even if it was kind of more a wolf fact. But, myself, I have spent my entire life captivated by ancient Egypt, so I love this kind of stuff.

Thanks for reading, and until next time!

( If you like my werewolf blog, be sure to follow me here and check out my other stuff! Please consider supporting me on Patreon or donating on Ko-fi if you’d like to see me continue my works, including my folklore blog and writing my own novels, werewolf and otherwise. Every little bit helps so much.

Patreon — Personal Website (new and improved! Great starting point!)  — Ko-fi — Wulfgard — Werewolf Fact Masterlist — Twitter — Vampire Fact Masterlist )

[k1ttygam3r]

Cookie Run: Kingdom, Golden Cheese Kingdom cookie headcanons

Feel free to make art or stories based off of these headcanons, but be sure to credit me if you do.

(CW: Mentions of death)

- Burnt Cheese Cookie’s name wasn’t always like that. After being brought back by Golden Cheese Cookie via the Golden City, he chose that name for himself, both as a “badge of honor” for how he fought for his kingdom until he was inevitably killed (hence the “Burnt” in his name, suggesting he was burned alive, which would also explain his ash-like dough color), and a show of loyalty to Golden Cheese Cookie (hence the similar “(adjective) Cheese Cookie” name style).

- When the Dark Flour War occurred, Fettuccine Cookie was not killed, but wounded to the point of unconsciousness. Blinded by her grief, however, Golden Cheese Cookie put Fettuccine in a sarcophagus anyhow, believing her to be dead. The lack of air within the sarcophagus and Golden Cheese Cookie’s accidental neglect for her wounds caused Fettuccine Cookie to eventually perish within her sarcophagus. However, with the uprising of the Golden City, Fettuccine Cookie’s soul awoke once again. And she wanted out.

- Smoked Cheese Cookie and Burnt Cheese Cookie are brothers. They used to care for each other but after the Golden City Siege incident and Smoked Cheese Cookie’s spiral into insanity, they’ve grown distant. Smoked Cheese Cookie wants nothing to do with his brother. Burnt Cheese Cookie also doesn’t want anything to do with Smoked Cheese Cookie, but not out of resentment. He avoids him out of guilt for letting his brother’s ambitions boil to a point where he descended into madness. Because of this, his jackals became somewhat of his emotional support animals that help him cope with the guilt.

- Mozzarella Cookie enjoys singing when she’s alone or anxious. Many residents of the Golden City could usually tell whenever she was nearby when they hear her whimsical, melodic humming as she walks around an empty hall or room.

- Being half-cheesebird, Golden Cheese Cookie has some bird-like behavior, despite being mainly humanoid. Such behavior includes habits from softly purring when happy, to squawking when startled and flapping her wings vigorously when frustrated: all habits she’s had since she was a fledgeling.

[kittyplushy]

Burmean Python [2/2]

Do it. Do it. Do it. Part 2 of 2. Please read the first part before proceeding!

I love these messy lesbians and I'll finally draw them tomorrow!

General warnings that apply for BTTWNS in general (gore, drugging, torture). Also a bit suggestive but not explicit in some areas.

I had to stop and catch my breath. When the telephone rang out as loud as death.

What does anatomy permit? What does it limit? Mice eat seeds, cats eat mice, jackals kill cats, bears kill jackals- that's the way the world works. Some people are just meant to be killed to make ends meet. How do you put this reality lightly? Julianne is such a sensitive soul. She cries over wasted food. Her ears obviously droop when she gets scared. She's always asking people if they're alright. I always knew about the bad relationships she found herself in. The people she attached herself to. The person she killed. Honestly if it wasn't a jackal I would've been happier.

It sounds insensitive to say out loud in any way one could put it. Maybe you shouldn't tell your girlfriend she's well far down the food chain. A domesticated cat, no less: they have zero hunting skills, they're quite spoilt, and lazier than any other critter I've seen in my lifetime. When I woke up this morning I turned to my side to wake up my guest but was left disappointed nobody was there. When you wake up next to a murderer what do you do?

I'm sure she's in her apartment still sleeping. She's next to her plushies and she's going to the city and meet with a client. Later she'll eat the beef bowl she always orders at Guy's on her way home. Then she'll find her favorite cake on her favorite plate from her favorite girl on their anniversary.

Today, the world revolved like nothing had happened last night. Nobody wondered why there was a screaming match at my house. Nobody had asked me about my relationship today. A slow afternoon commenced like usual. I opened up my journal and noticed the wedding invitation slip under the counter. Picking it up from the upside, Kaku's cursive handwriting said "Ms. Strong & Ms. Lucky". I opened it up to read the details. Ticking every benchmark a Woodbrook wedding would have. At the chapel. At 2 pm. A lakeside reception. No white. Wear blue and yellow- it's tropical.

"To be held...on November 17th, 1987. RSVP for 2."

On this slow fall afternoon there was nothing after me after all. I've just attracted a swarm of wasps on myself. I pushed the envelope flap back and pressed, pocketing it in my jacket.

The folded bike slid neatly into the cabinet next to the door. I went to open the radio to fill out the empty space. I've stayed alone for 20 years but I somehow couldn't bear a night with my own thoughts. I set a dinner set for two almost like routine. Something new's been hardwired into my system. Longing to not be alone. Longing to have something to hold me back. A safety net. A harness. Handcuffs. I closed my eyes holding the spare pillow I bought for her.

I opened my eyes greeted by a headache and a thick fog that surrounded the forests of Golden Apple City. I had wrapped my apron into a makeshift pillow and my toolbag was missing from my side. I jolted up in panic running through foliage keeping my eyes open for it. A loose branch tripped me off my balance and I landed face down on the stream from my new camp. Someone set up my hoist. Peeking behind a tree there were wild jackals swarming the body hung on it. They began licking the fresh wound pouring with blood before they could begin their business. Despite the deep cut on the carotid artery it was wincing, struggling and still aware of the torture it was going through. Once the fog began to clear around the injured body, my mind shut down when I recognized it was Julianne struggling to get off the mechanism. She began wiggling about to loosen the rope on her ankles and hit the floor once the tripod lost its balance. Her face planted into the plate pooling her blood and she began panthing looking around her for help. Her eyes met mine and she ran. I chased after her to the end of the thick forest and into the altar. She fell to the ground weakly and called for Kaku and Liv's help. "I'm live bait" she screamed "Sam set me up in there and watched me get torn to shreds. God saw what she did."

Fuck. It can't be, can it? Someone knows and someone is gonna tell. I have to do something. And I need to do it quick.

The essentials are here. Knives. Ropes. Gloves. Syringes. Plastic. An excuse. I stuffed as much painless remedies as I could in a flurry of sweat and fear. I started the truck and quickly made my way to the edge of town where the Sunset Valley apartments stood. I put on my jacket walking to the entrance of the complex. Visiting hours are over it seems. There's still a chance she's awake. Looking up to the 5th floor, the window with a fake stained glass design was still wide open. The lights were dim as usual but she's surely awake at this hour.

Cling, cling, cling... Cling, cling, cling...

That should attract her to cautiously look around her. She nervously peered out the window, sleepy eyes widening seeing me right outside. Her paws gestured to keep myself quiet. I only replied to her that we needed to talk now. Her green eyes widened then drooped, nodding before locking the window. Minutes later, Julianne was downstairs in a cami top and shorts. I checked my watch- yes, it's 2:27 am.

"It's so late.." She began "Why are you still awake?" "Same question for you." I shrugged, unlocking the door for her "Were you going to sleep?" "I already was but I couldn't. I don't know why." Julianne yawned, stretching her arms up as her teeth chattered instinctively again. "Let's..talk about..yesterday...at our favorite hiding place." The truck slowly drove its way down town, dreading what could happen next.

About that first question,

What does anatomy permit? What does it limit?

Python bivittatus, also known as the Burmean Python, is a choke artist. It is powerful enough to kill a deer. To be able to kill such a large pest, they bite their prey then quickly coil around it- crushing their air supply and autonomy, and only then can it spread its venom into the bloodstream. The bigger the prey, the more energy it takes. It's taking a year. It only took a year for this to begin falling apart. I've bitten into her. She's excitable, eager for touch or affection of any kind even when it stings. It makes her melt when I place my palms on her round figure. She purrs when I comb her fur. She's already been marked as my prop. My decorative toy. And she likes the role. Coil around her by being ever present in her lonely life. Give her a space to stay in my house. Invite myself into her space. Spend nights in the forest looking at the stars. Break those protective walls and defenses until she's completely in my palm ready to serve. I remember one night I stayed over after a trip to the city. The warm dim lights invited me immediately to bed, my body sore from harboring a moose to and from the truck that afternoon. It was a big catch- I would have said if I was stupid enough. Julianne sat next to me and asked if I wanted to order in dinner. I shook my head then absentmindedly crawled to lay my head on her lap. She laughed and called me adorable. Her paws ran through my fur. I could hear her purring. I rolled back to look up at her, admiring her soft features lit by the moon outside. I asked her if I could hear one story before I crashed in again.

"Personal, Public Domain, or Original?" She held me closer to her chest like a stuffed animal.

"Whatever you can think of now."

"Well...once upon a time, there was a princess who woke up in a tower. It was dilapidated, gloomy, and cold. There was barely anything in the tower. A bed, a shelf, a bag full of clothes, and a sword were her only company until smoke filled the room. She looked out the window and saw a fierce dragon guarding the prison."

"However, upon further inspection she found that the dragon was also chained. Its bounds connected to the tower itself. It was shaking in fear. At first the princess was afraid that if she stepped out of line, the dragon would fly away, crushing the tower down with her. But it was timid and pitied the princess. They both had no idea how the princess got trapped in the first place. Hell knows its not the dragon who did it. They were clueless but they bonded over their imprisonment. The dragon grew close to love the princess. It swore to protect her from everything that came into the cave they were in. Many men, princes of every kingdom came to save the damsel but the dragon burnt them to a crisp."

"One day, the princess' father came with an army of men angered that the dragon had killed all the men he offered his daughter up to. Thousands climbed the tower to retrieve the prize. Hundreds stabbed the dragon to stabalize it. They were both screaming for help. Afraid of what would happen inside the tower, the dragon flew up. The tower tumbled over the army and killing the princess inside it."

Suddenly my sleepiness left me as I sat back up to process the story. "You can't make childrens' books with stories like that, Sweetie. That's so sad." I said, looking up to the glow in the dark stars on her short cieling. She laid next to me moments later, tickling her fingers to intertwine with mine.

"Yeah but it's interesting though, right? People who love each other stuck in their own prisons."

I looked back to her and slowly blinked. She repeated the gesture.

"How'd you know that?"

"Melody and I used to...do things."

"Huh." There was a saddened look on her face. I quickly pacified it by pulling her closer to me, squishing her soft sides to tease her. She pulled her ears back.

"Well forget about that now, she's still obsessed with her husband, Hun. There's nothing I can do especially when I have you." Then here it comes: the venom. I parked in front of the elementary school building. This shouldn't take long. I took her hand as we walked through the uneven earth. Some of the rocks that used to be visible had been consumed by the kudzu. We agreed it was less of an eyesore now until we nearly tripped on its branches. The moon was high above us, guiding us to a clearing surrounded by oak.

"I'm sorry." I whispered, cupping her right cheek as I kissed the left from behind her. I reached for a syringe filled with curare. Positioning her closer to me, I flicked the cap off, ready to pierce the skin. My hands were shaky. I fought against the thought of backing off. She knew too much. She had to go. Now.

"Don't move."

She stood still with her fists clenched then began toying with her hands. A cold chill swept around us and her tail flew up blocking the bullseye.

I dropped it. My hands redirected to taking off my jacket and wrapping it around her like a blanket. Julianne turned around when she felt the weight of the clothing on her shoulders.

"Just put it on. It's cold here."

She obediently nodded, putting it on and noticing it was a bit too big for her. I quickly picked up the open syringe and cap, hiding it in my back pocket. I looked at my shaky hands. It was hard to even keep something still in my hands.

"Is there something wrong with your hand?"

Julianne put hers into mine. Like magic the anxiety running through them calmed.

"No. Let's sit down, shall we?"

The wind continued to blow against our fur sitting on the tall grass. We stared at the craters of the moon for hours with the right words stuck in our throats. Julianne rested her chin on my shoulder.

"Are you ever afraid of being alone?" She asked. "I can live on my own. I don't need anyone. But living with you for almost a year now puts a lot of things into perspective. I do like company. Just when they aren't trying to get me in jail or trying to sleep with me through murder...when they're naive." "Do you think I'm naive?" "Just a little bit. But that's what you are when you're young. You're excited. But everytime I pursue something in a relationship, it has to end with me being alone. It's my nature. I'll always be alone."

Julianne frowned. She began to tear up but stopped herself from feeling further.

"I'm still here, Samantha." "Why?" "I dunno. I'm a fool I guess. And you're a sweetheart, you know? Even if you try and tell me that you're nothing like what you put on for Woodbrook, when we're alone you look at me fondly and you smile. I never knew that feeling until you make me think about it."

I reached back to completely hide the syringe. I felt guilty for once trying to kill someone.

"I look at you like that because you make rooms feel nice. And it isn't fake or anything." "So I'm not just bottom of the food chain junk to you after all." "What? No, no you're not. It's just a pessimistic philosophy I've enrolled into when I was young for survival's sake. I'm telling you now you don't believe in it or else you'll end up like me."

I brushed her tears away with my thumb and peppered kisses on her forehead.

"I'll keep your secret, okay? You just promise me one thing.." "Even if I killed a jackal?" "You could've killed a lion. I'll keep my mouth shut."

She buried her face into her kneecaps in shame. I continued to brush the fur on her upper back, sprinkling in a few tickles on her sensitive spots. After a while she sat back up giggling between sniffles.

"H-hey, I'm weak there." "I know. I know what I'm doing." "I hope you do.."

She invited me down to lay on the grass, pressing her soft body down as kissed her. This new energy release and repeat satiated the need I felt that night. I still couldn't keep my hands still. They were wandering around her. I couldn't let that go. Not yet. Not now. Oh god not ever if I can. "Sam, I-I can't wait for you to get better. I need you, you know? You can kill all the critters, I'd prefer if you didn't, but there's nothing you can say or do that'd drive me away."

"I'm not someone to look up to, Julianne."

"I'm an awful person too, dammit. Let me also be jealous and ugly."

I carried her into my arms and cradled her like a doll. I felt her tummy through the fabric of the jacket but before I could tease her further I remembered something was inside its inner pockets.

"Unzip that for me, please?" "Middle of the forest, honey." "No, not that, Jesus. There's something I wanna show you." I put up the invitation from Kaku. Julianne's eyes immediately grew bigger.

"Ohhh oh they're getting married? Already?! Wow this is such nice paper..." Julianne carefully flipped through the stationery.

"They've been around Woodbrook for ten years now. It makes sense they'll marry. Seen them since I was in college."

"Huh. If it's tropical themed, why won't Liv just get married on the beach.."

"Too expensive..hey, do you have a blue dress?" I redirected her focus on the little footnote on the dress code. She looked at me and shook her head.

"I gotta look. All the stuff I display is pink or brown or white. I think I do..." She looked back up at the stars before looking back to me.

"I'm glad we talked this through. Or over. Or under. I couldn't sleep without someone next to me now it's stupid."

"Aww. Do you want me to sleep at your place?"

Julianne slowly tilted her head as she blinked.

"It'd be an honor."