#the four sons of horus

[archaeologs]

A set of four canopic jars was an important element of the burial in most periods of Ancient Egyptian history. Canopic jars were containers in which the separately mummified organs would be placed. The best known versions of these jars have lids in the shape of the heads of protective deities called the four Sons of Horus. The human-headed Imsety was the guardian of the liver; the baboon-headed Hapy looked after the lungs; the jackal-headed Duamutef was responsible for the stomach; and the falcon-headed Qebehsenuef cared for the intestines. Image by The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Lean more / Daha fazlası https://www.archaeologs.com/w/canopic-jar/

[ava-of-shenanigans]

Some of my favourite details from The Papyrus of Ani

Spotted cows

The shading on the feather of truth in the heart weighing scene

Spotted cow god (their name is Long-Horned Bull) and also fennec fox looking god (their name is Inverted of Face, Multitudinous of Forms)

All of these little drawings

Beastie!!

The outlines of the four sons of Horus on the Mound of Abydos

These red sashes on Isis and Nephthys’s dresses

The face that kite!Isis is making in this one drawing (also the colours of some of the pots but they don’t show up so well in the photo)

All of the details in the plants

[nesirtyre]

Amulet set depicting the Four Sons of Horus, Third Intermediate Period, part of British Museum’s collection

During the Third Intermediate Period, mummification practices changed and the packages containing the embalmed internal organs were no longer placed in Canopic Jars, but were returned to the body cavity, each with an amulet of the relevant Canopic deity attached. Although later Canopic packages came to be placed once more inside jars or within the mummy wrappings, an amuletic set ol the Four Sons of Horus continued to be supplied. Either they were stitched onto the bandages over the mummy's torso by means of the holes provided, or they were incorporated into the bead netting which enveloped contemporary mummies.

[godslavecomic]

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[staticymaticyyourlifeisatravesty]

My understandings of what Primarchs are currently alive and dead, what their status' are: Loyalists: Leman Russ: Running butt ass naked in the Warp, if the armour if any indication. Probably a Wulfen and horribly mutated like Corvus. Possibly could be fine. Chances very slim for him not be a mutated wolf thing with viking braids. Anyway his sons are mildly disturbed by the armour they keep finding Lion: Alive and pissed. Commits so many war crimes behind Guilliman's back. May or may not be making it his personal goal to give Guilliman as many grey hairs as possible. Roboute Guilliman: Stressed and thinks humans can't rule themselves. Asshole. Needs a break and to actually spend time with humans and actually thinking about the fact it's been ten thousand fucking years. That's impressive for an empire. Corvus Corax: Fucked up bird man in the warp. Probably learning that feathers suck to get blood out of and questioning how the fuck his white winged brother kept his feathers so fucking clean even though said brother routinely caused blood baths in life. Has probably pecked someone to death. Vulkan: Probably alive. Somewhere. Might actually be in a volcano somewhere. His death goes against his lore so who knows what the fuck is going on here. Jaghatai Khan: Also in the warp, has no idea where the fuck he is and isn't stopping for directions. Honestly he's actually existed the warp couple of times he was going so fucking fast. Probably also slowly getting mutated. Might be fine though. Probably passed a naked Leman a couple of times and is really confused by the fucked up bird thing calling itself Corvus. Rogal Dorn: Could be dead, could have a sick ass prosthetic hand. No idea what's going on with him. Sanguinius: Incredibly dead. Probably a good thing that he is. Otherwise he'd probs be a traitor primarch too with the Imperium in its current state- Ferrus Manus: Also very dead. Probably was seething mad at being killed by Fulgrim. Very likely died seething mad. Traitors: Fulgrim: Is a four armed winged snake thing. Having mad sex and doing way too many drugs. Probably also eating a lot too. And then sleeping it off because snake. Has a chunky boyfriend if Tumblr is to be believed. Magnus: Trying to rebuild, also an arrogant prick. I support him even if he's a dick. If only because what happened to Prospero was a travesty of the highest order. You go my weird rainbow nipple horned demon prince. What is your obsession with titty horns??? Mortarion: Depressed but has family. Is infected with diseases that are probably not even invented yet. Probably also not a skinny rail of a man anymore courtesy of Papa Nurgle who is a better dad then the Emperor ironically. Probably can't stand to look himself in the Mirror. Angron: Angy, so very angy. And obsessed with blood. Even if he wasn't immortal by virtue of being a demon prince, he'd probably be too angry to die. Not entirely sure if this is actually better then being dead. Lorgar: Not entirely sure, but I assume he's somewhere in the warp spreading the word of chaos like some sort of messed up anti jesus or something.

Alpharius /Omegon: One's dead, the other is alive. Which twin died and which one is alive is a damn good question. Possibly neither are even dead. Absolute bastards (affectionate). Perterabo: Grumpy old man wanting to be left alone and forge. He yearns for it. Mostly content to just make stuff and burn his skin off. Good things he's a demon now I guess. Go make stuff, have a hobby that's kinda healthy. Sort of. Konrad: Pretty dead. Saw it happen and let it happen. Probably for the best because dear god this man as a demon prince is terrifying. Horus: Also very dead. Might actually be even more dead then Sanguinius considering Horus' soul was probably destroyed.

[sharenadraculea]

If the primarchs had social media

Lion: There is nothing on his accounts. Not even a profile-picture. Someone is still logging into them every so often. Fulgrim: On all the plattforms. Primarely family-blogger: look at my perfect kids, my perfect spaceship, my perfect partner, my perfect healthy breakfest, my perfect make-up. OnlyFans-account on the side. Get‘s into controversies all the time. Perty: Angry rants. Has spent to much time on Twitter. Old man yells at cloud type of stuff. Jagh: And this is how we‘ll break the speed-limit today! Talks about bikes, how to mod them, drives them around very fast, ect. Occasional horse-pictures. Leman: Puppies! Just cute dog-pictures and -videos, of every canine he encounters in the galaxy Rogal: He isn‘t very good at social media. Sometimes posts bad selfies or pictures of his building projects. Completly ignores all of Pertys hate-comments Konrad: He writes fanfic. Edgy, dark, not very good fanfic. The protag is a clear self-insert and Mary Sue and brings justice to all the settings he puts them in. A ton of spelling errors. The plot barely holds together. He is very proud of it. Sang: He has official accounts with pretty pictures of him everywhere, but he has some private accounts that are just like his art and sometimes cute family pictures. Also why can I see Sang having a Vtuber-persona he livestreams with so people don‘t recognize him? Ferrus: Appears on Fulgrims accounts fairly often. Maybe does some gaming-content on the side Angron: Everything is very sporadic and when it‘s there it‘s pretty angry. Surprisingly talks a lot about issues with his disabilities and that he needs way more help than he get‘s and also all his trauma. Struggles a lot with typing and forming sentences, so it can be hard to understand at times. Roboute: A channel with tutorials for stuff like running a planet or putting on armour. If people ask him to explain something he can just send them a link. Morty: Not very active, sometimes pictures of some funky plants and little texts about them. Magnus: Video-essays. He dissappers for months and then returns with a four-hour-video (minimum) about the most random topic. Hugely popular. Horus: Look at my sexy abs! Look at my huge bicep! Soft-porn-pictures of him and his sons. Probally also had OnlyFans. Lorgar: Social media is great for preaching! So he does that! Deletes all his accounts after monarchia. Vulkan: Food! He loves trying out new recipes from diffrentc cultures! At the start of every recipe is a pagelong story, which people actually read Corvus: Also writes Fanfic. Very, very good fanfic if a bit edgy at times. Kind of has a rivalery with Konrad. Also runs a very active blog, about both writing and justice, with occasional bits about guerilla-warfare Alpharius Omegon: Just the worst trolls. Dozens if not hundreds of sockpuppet accounts. They are having a good time.

[mothiir]

not a request, more of a fun fact because i saw another sanguinius fan here yesterday and i can’t find her blog for the life of me.

supposedly birds, particularly male birds, associate their wings being stroked with sexual stimulation and will become very sexually frustrated if it’s not taken care of. Stroking their wings too often will also cause them to associate you with being a mate instead of a friend or companion, which causes them to be jealous and possessive over you.

do with this information what you will

So what I did with this is write some sanguinius being a wee bit feral but also being the noble boy we love. Also I need to start writing things that aren’t dubcon because why is this the healthiest relationship I’ve written so far

—

—

cw: slightly lewd, implications of violence

—

—

It probably starts off completely by chance: you’re cleaning, and Sanguinius swans into his quarters without noticing you. Even the noblest of the Emperor’s sons will sometimes fail to acknowledge the staff, especially when he is distracted -- and oh, is the poor thing distracted. He’s just had to sit through a four hour meeting -- hosted by Roboute, with the Lion in attendance, and he has been zigzagging between acute boredom and blinding frustration -- and, on top of all of that, he is moulting. He claws his robe off his body, stretching his wings out to their full span. He makes a primal sound of pure satisfaction, contorting his sleek golden body to dig his fingers into his tender flesh, trying to unroot the snarls of not-quite loose feathers. Some come free easily; others snag. He wishes he was in Bhaal, where he could stretch himself out in the hot dry dust, and squirm back and forth, letting the acrid soil scratch the most stubborn of itches. Alas, there is no such amenity here, only -- 

It’s then he notices you, cloth in hand, frozen. At his gaze, you immediately drop to your knees, touch your forehead to the floor. 

“My lord Primarch -- forgive me --”

“Forgive you for what?” he says, lightly. “There is nothing to forgive; you are doing your duty. You are excused -- there is plenty aboard to be cleaned.”

You stand somewhat shakily, twisting the cloth between your hands. “Yes my lord. Of course my lord. It is just --”

You know a little about birds -- enough to recognise the signs of a highly uncomfortable moult. And Sanguinius is not a bird but the greatest man you have ever known, and yet…and yet you cannot help yourself. 

“--I wonder if I could be of assistance? With the uh -- with the pin feathers. The ones that aren’t open, I can see a few -- “

You make an aborted little gesture: fingers closing, as if around an invisible reed, pinching slightly, dragging up. Precisely the way he sees to his own pin feathers, letting the keratin sheathe surrounding them crumble against his grip, freeing the filament within. 

“My mother keeps birds,” you offer, as an explanation, then flush. “Not that you are one, my lord -- not --”

He chuckles at your unease, and settles himself down on his bed, patting the red silk quilt beside him. 

“Come. Assist me, if you are so keen.”

Many quail at the sight of him -- despite what Horus thinks, Sanguinius is more revered than beloved, and the difference between the two is stark -- but you do not. You approach him with downturned eyes, smelling faintly of fear, but you still approach him. 

Your hands are small and swift, deftly opening up the feathers in need of help, leaving the ones not yet ready. You work for hours, until your hands must be cramping from effort, but you do not quibble or complain. You smooth his primaries, straighten them in line with each other; you tug free lumps of down with sharp efficient gestures. Slowly, the itching fades, and with it the frustration. Before Sanguinius quite knows what he is doing, he has sprawled himself back onto the mattress, pulling you with him. You use the new angle to your advantage, reaching under his flank to work at the feathers closest to his wingjoints. 

“There,” you say, just as he feels about ready to drift off. His eyes are half-lidded, and a slight smile curves his lips. “That looks…better. You’re not done moulting yet, but that’s what I can do for now.”

“You’ll return tomorrow,” he says, a request and a command and a question all at once. Your cheeks are wonderfully pink as you nod. He ponders briefly what all that delicious blood would taste like, spilling down his throat, and then shoves the thought to the side. He will not ruin your helpfulness with his hunger. 

The next night, you perform the same job, and the night after that, and the night after that. His moult ends, but he thinks it best that you keep returning: caring for his wings is an important duty, after all, and you are so very good at it. So eager to please.

(A voice that sounds distressingly like Konrad’s says what else would she do to please you, golden one? -- but he ignores that, for he must.)

The problem becomes apparent not during those long late nights as you preen him while he tries to think of anything but how sweet your blood would taste, but in the middle of his ship. He has just led his sons to an astounding victory, coming to the aid of a local governor against a fleet of xenos raiders, and -- as is tradition -- they are celebrating, hosting the Imperium’s great and good aboard the Red Tear. The ballroom they gather in is built to accommodate a Primarch, with a huge arched ceiling, draped with scarlet silk. The walls are festooned with artwork of immense beauty, most painted by the Blood Angels themselves: scenes of battles hard won, golden cities on green hills, birds flying free over great glittering lakes. Sanguinius makes a speech, praising the well-fought battle of the planetary defense force against the raiders -- and meaning every word -- and then retires to a corner to sip his wine and try to relax. He cannot walk amongst the delegates without people dropping to their knees in supplication, so he finds that becoming part of the furniture is the best approach for a restful party for all.

That is when he sees you. You’re wearing the same basic formal outfit all of the serfs wear -- fine scarlet linen, embroidered with gold -- but you’ve altered the wide-legged trousers into a skirt, which swishes around your ankles as you move; a slit halfway up your thigh gives him a tantalizing glimpse of pale flesh, and his mouth goes dry. 

Deep in conversation with one of the proud young soldiers, you’re completely oblivious to Sanguinius’s hungry gaze. At least -- he hopes you is, because you laugh at something your companion says and then he touches your shoulder.

Before he can control himself, Sanguinius crosses the ballroom, picks up the young human and rips him in two, showering you both with a fountain of gore. Your scream stills in your throat, eyes bugging with terror, as he gathers you close, tongue running along your pulsing jugular, claws biting into your flesh as he shreds your garment, intent on claiming you then and there, his mate, his woman, his --

That, of course, is not what happens. What actually happens is that Sanguinius stalks towards you, a beatific smile pasted over his face, and the poor young man immediately steps backwards; his logical mind sees the Primarch, and is awestruck; but his primal lizard brain screams this is a predator you have to run. 

“I will have to steal you away, if you don’t mind,” he says, and of course you do not mind -- because you are his. His woman. His mate. As he steers you out of the ballroom, you confide in a low voice:

“Thank you. He was lovely, but just a little too eager. I think he was all of seventeen!”

Sanguinius knows he should feel ashamed that he had come this close to gutting a child-soldier who had the misfortune of making you laugh, but he doesn’t. He feels a little guilty at his lack of guilt, but that is it. If he had slain the boy it would have been his right, as your lord and master --

No. No. That is not him; that is not how he acts, nor how he behaves. Those impulses come to him for he is a warhawk and a warrior, but he does not act on them because he is not a monster. 

“These parties do get tiresome,” he says, ushering you ahead of him. “I am glad I have you to keep me company while we avoid them.”

You end up back in his bedroom, combing your fingers through his feathers. He melts under your touch, every sinew in his back starting to relax. Soon -- hopefully soon -- he will have you squirming and mewling under him, your legs spread eagerly for him, your tight little body welcoming him deep inside. Soon. When he is sure that you are saying yes because you want to, not because the overwhelming force of his desire is warping your own feelings. When he can trust himself not to hurt you anymore than you want to be hurt. 

Sanguinius can hold tight to his self control for that. For your sake. For his. 

[toto-the-cactus]

Ayo! Finished this damn thing. Hope this is still good. Tell me who we should go find next <333

Tagging some people that have been waiting for this update:

@danart501 @ilikemytittieswithwarmmilk

Summary: As a perpetual, you have been by the Emperor's side for most of your immortality. There's no name for what strange dynamic you both share, but you do trust him and your loyalty eventually pays off over millennia once he fulfills an old promise he made during your first ever encounter.

Pairing: Emperor of Mankind x Perpetual!Reader (Female)

CW: None

Part 1 - Part 2 - ?

The Mother (2)

The pregnancy had been a success and the development was nothing short of fast and strenuous. You should have expected Him to mold your body in a manner that would serve Him better for his wishes and plans to be fulfilled.

His Great Crusade needed to be accomplished and you suddenly became part of the means to that end.

What a dreadful fate. To be nothing but his petri dish.

And so, Horus was born. His little form being held against your chest like the precious treasure that he was, making the sorrow of not having the rest of your children there too be momentarily forgotten by his awaited arrival, cooing and grunting in delight at the warmness of your encompassing heartbeat once he settled at your bosom.

A memory you cherished to the end of time while it had burned itself on your soul to leave a lasting mark. You had cried in joy, hunched over yourself to blanket your newborn with your whole begin and feel him real, psychical, between your arms.

His accelerated growth didn’t deter you enough from enjoying any time with your baby boy, from supporting him during his unforgiving training to reading with each other's company at the main library of the Imperial Palace. All for the sake of letting him be loved by you.

It was a matter that (while not ideal) didn't interest the Emperor much, for his plans were already taking proper form and the ‘gift’ of not taking away your son from you was enough of a blessing that didn’t need to be addressed again.

Even if that notion tasted like ash on your mouth.

Your little boy wasn’t so little anymore and that sometimes worried you, as you knew very well the kind of expectations the Emperor held for Horus; the true born Primarch, a warrior to serve under his Father’s light as a tool despite his own Mother’s unyielding love. You couldn’t help but feel like this was a prelude of some sort of omen.

Most of the days eventually became grey on its core, for your son was now in charge of his Legion, the Luna Wolves, marking his very first start as an official Primarch under the service of his Father… laying you to the sides like you have always been when regarding the Emperor.

Did Horus know how much it hurt his distance? How much it hurt to witness his crave for the approval of a man made god… when you simply wished to read a book of old literature in his company?

You hated being made again this tragic effigy of the woman with the eyes of a dying lamb. You felt forgotten… a ghost from these golden walls.

But the eventual call of Erda served to stray you away from such gloom thoughts. Her psyker powers a breach through your mind’s wall but clear enough for a single sentence to make your heart take a leap out close to your throat.

“I found one of them”

You couldn’t have been faster in your life to get a lunar cruiser ready to reach the needed destination; not even willingly to explain yourself when the Emperor saw you boarding the vessel. But as always, He went and proved to still be an enigma to you thanks to his ever unnatural actions.

“Go along with her… and make sure to protect her and obey her during the travel only” his command was absolute when he addressed four of his Custodes, their impassive disposition only showing the barest of emotion when fulfilling their Emperor’s orders like a gospel, but the specifics of his directive weren’t lost to you: to obey you just this single time. Nothing more, nothing less.

Of course, you weren't ungrateful to his gesture and thanked him deeply for it with a kiss to the palm of his armored hand when he caressed your cheek, but He quickly dismissed the matter. He knew what you were about to do and it wasn't like he Himself hadn’t been picking any possible clues to find the other Primarchs out there that you two wholeheartedly believed to still be alive.

Sometimes you wondered if the Emperor had managed to have a tiny, small part of instinctual fatherhood to be awakened within him after all the time he had spent with Horus. It was a nice thought. A hopeful one, but you knew better than to get your expectations up.

Once settled inside the cruiser, the coordinates were introduced to start the travel to retrieve one of your children.

Erda’s voice still echoing inside your mind when she told you the planet that you needed to search for: Nuceria.

-°-

The sight had been painful.

The worst nightmare a mother could ever expect.

Your arrival had been anything but discret at the revolting planet of Nuceria, having been informed of the life that the elites carried at the expense of the blood and flesh of slaves forced to fight for any resemblance of survival by their supposed masters. The irony wasn’t lost on you, but millenia of serving the Emperor had made you receptive to his ideals and methods. Justifying your own purpose by standing on his side could derive a vulnerability that you weren’t ready to confront. You needed to believe in the Emperor even if he took too far the phrase “Any means justify the end”.

After all, immortality has only made it easier for your troubling love to persevere longer in your stubborn heart and for fickle human lives to become an afterthought. You were well aware that you weren’t any better than Him in the ever present inhumanity you carried. 

When your child had looked at your direction, imposing form towering over your smaller frame and covered in so many slashes and blood, your heart had seized in a painful knot. Those scars were injuries you hadn’t been able to sooth with compassion. You had failed your son and that was something you’ll never forgive yourself.

The only mercy you could offer was to take him away from this wretched place.

Just when you were ready to take a step towards him, you saw his eyes harden and his posture change in defense with squared up shoulders. A warning if you decided to go against him and the thorn inside your chest only bled even more.

The Custodes that had escorted you as per their orders maintained a cold and terrifying disposition, deterring any of the guards surrounding you and your son’s tribe to take a last step. The commotion at the fighting pit had been great but you cared little for these people and their sick sense of entertainment. Fighting was an art of the honorable and the strong; to be used in epic battles to build history and civilizations. Using it as a careless trick was absolutely insulting.

It was beyond you to do this. Against any of the natural ingrained fighting instinct that had saved you for years, but the desperation of a mother overrode any of that to mere dust and motivated you to do the one thing you wished to believe will make your son realize who you were.

“I’ve been dreaming of finding you… for so long. I’m here now, my son”

And you saw it behind his hardened eyes, and you rejoiced in the recesses of your mind. There was a semblance of recognition shining through his stare at the timbre of your voice.

A far away lullaby that accompanied him in his lowest moments.

An step became two, then three and so on until you found yourself right at your child’s side after a few strides, hand gently touching his roughed one until the grip over his twin axe became slack, allowing you to take a better hold in an attempt to convey all the encapsulated emotions that stormed within your soul.

Grief, sadness, frustration, longing, relief… love.

You’ve been waiting for so long.

No one moved beyond you, tugging his huge arm towards you while softly telling him “It’s time to go home”, but those words instead of making him relax in your presence, had the opposite as his stance became once again defensive. At least this time he genuinely looked conflicted on the matter, glancing back at the other slaves that simply stayed behind as mere spectators of the whole encounter, unable to properly react when not just a few moments ago they were ready to lose their lives in the pits.

Ah, you understood.

“I can’t… not without my people…” he seemed to want add more into that sentence, his eyes straying just a little towards a man that looked to be quite tall by mortal standards, covered in too many scars that told stories of his battles in this wretched place but carrying himself with enough dignity to be respected.

This is where you must make a decision that will carry quite the weight. You knew that there was space enough to carry the slaves, not comfortably, but it could be arranged to be a thigh fit. You knew He wouldn’t even have hesitated at the idea of just forcibly taking your son and leaving all these humans to die with their fate already chosen. The Emperor had no time to dwell in the aspects of mercy and compassion, you could acknowledge that very well and that had been the main reason he had kept you long enough around. To remind him about the nostalgia of the humanity he once possessed. He couldn’t provide the proper love Horus and these children dreamed of… so you would carry that responsibility and dry your heart to make sure your precious sons knew they were loved no matter what.

Your loyalty will always belong to the Emperor, just as much as your body, soul and mind… but you didn’t belong to yourself too anymore… the pittance of individuality you were sure to hold crumbled into dust once you had wished to be the mother of these children and that was something you would proudly carry.

And so, your decision was made.

“Custodes!” you call them, their attention fully on you now and waiting for your command. The grasp over your son’s hand became tighter in an attempt to reassure him once you felt him go tense at your stern tone. He had probably expected the worst and that notion only made something vile twist inside your stomach. “We will be taking the slaves with us too”

There was a beat of uncertainty and you could already guess that this choice would not be well received by the Emperor… but that was something you were willingly to bear over your shoulders like many times you have done in the past.

Things will work out. You can only trust blind hope, but that is enough for now.

You stretch your arm towards his face with some effort, for he is still taller than you, but he lets his head tilt towards you to help a bit and gives you the chance to offer a sweet caress over his cheek. You can feel the rough texture of his messy shave, of the scars, and your heart throbs painfully when you think about all the hardships he had to face.

You couldn’t assure him a better life away from battle, but you could at least give him the solace of a greater future along for his people.

“I’m here now… and I will not abandon you… ever” there had been an edge of something feral in your tone. The side you rarely showed but a reminder of why you had been beside the Emperor this long.

You hoped Horus would be open at the idea of some siblings.

Just messing around with this idea, don't get ya hopes up pls.

Love ya, fellas!

[kit-williams]

Oh no there's now two of each Primarch!

@bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog

@thevoidscreams @barn-anon @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @squishyowl @ms--lobotomy

@nekotaetae @sleepyfan-blog

Lady Dorn just sighs as now she has to hear her husband in stereo. She just enjoys the bit more affection her not husband Rogal offers her.

Sorsilla doesn't like the way that they both just grin at her like some sort of predator as she doesn't want to let them know she's lost track of which ones is hers.

The Lady of the Death Guard just sighs as she has now two husbands to make sure are okay. Of course she enjoys the amount of flower crowns they rest on her head smiling as she is unaware of the growing madness in the eyes of the newcomer.

Lady Corax just watches in horror as she assumes her not husband says something about her and her husband erupted into violence. She is hiding with Shrike... The legion is concerned.

She looks at the two Alpharius' no one is an Alpharius and the other is an Omegon... The dread she feels is from the fact this means there are four of them running around.

Lady El'Johnson sighs as her Lion snarls at the newcomer as of course he would say having her on his arm was a waste of time. And in retort her Lion shocks her with being publicly affectionate with her... She won't say no to her knight...

Fulgrim had sworn off of marriage as you attend to the two Primarchs as they speak quietly. You were just a serf but you could see the way this newcomer looks at you. You blink as he pulls you into your lap just once again you being treated like a doll for him to fuss over... Why did you feel so warm under his gaze...

Jaghatai happily discusses topics with himself as you're asleep in the newcomers lap having fallen asleep with his fingers running through your hair and gently against your scalp.

"Heel!" Lady Russ says as she pulls on the braids of the overly affectionate Primarch. As the two of them eagerly stole her away with her not husband eagerly asking where Leman found you as they handle you roughly before piling into a side room to rip your clothes and paw at your body.

Ferrus looked as his counterpart as they both knew where they kept you... Both having found you already in their respective universes and both putting you away to keep you safe.

Lady Guilliman looked at the older version of her husband. He never found you... He looks like the weight of the galaxy is crushing him and suffocating him. "Please," he begs softly, "just hold me a little bit more." He holds her close as he savors this dream.

Horus can see the stewing jealousy from himself as he wants to touch you. But Horus knows himself and it won't stop with a touch... Never with you... And he doesn't know if he's willing to share you with himself.

Lady Aurilian shakes her head as her husband at times can be insufferable but now there is two of him crooning your praises. It's adorable and insufferable but it is also your husband and a version of himself before meeting you...

Magnus happily converses with himself hoping to help himself avoid small mistakes. The poor Lady of the Thousand sons is a mewling mess as the two Psyker Primarchs are playing with your soul and you once more orgasm with a scream.

He has the Red Lady take away the pain of himself for a moment. He holds her tight against his chest as she twitches violently in pain, he grabs the stunned Angron's tunic and just tells him where he found you and what year all down to the last details. "Save her from her High Rider" the red angel hisses in pain as the nails bite hard before they return to a full ache as she returns to taking his pain again. Leaving the ladyless Angron to burn that information into his mind for a chance to have relief.

The Lady of the Blood Angels feels anemic as she can see that predatory look in this new Sanguinius' eyes... She knows her husband well enough and by the way they coo at her... She swallows nervously.

The Lady of the Salamanders smiled at her not husband who eagerly gave her hugs. Oh how lovely to meet you before actually meeting you! And he must love you terribly given how he could see the simmering anger from himself as he stole kisses from you much to your delight.

Out of all the spouses only Penelope is vibrating with excitement that there are two of her husband! While the two of them scowl at each other there is just a happily bouncing mortal woman with a chance at a wild and impossible fantasy of hers to be fulfilled... To which her Perturabo just rolls his eyes as she just bewilders the other as she gets to trying to seduce him.

[remembrancer-of-heresy]

Reverse Therapy AU:

I usually try to follow canon (or close to it) when I write fanfics. And especially when I write about space marines. However, I've been thinking about creating my own AU. I've previously asked @kit-williams to write about space marines whose sexual desire has returned. Now I've decided to write a more detailed backstory before writing fanfics about it.

On Istvaan V Horus Lupercal issued a series of orders that were supposed to increase the traitors' chances of victory. Some innovations in the craft of war and hierarchy. However, few know that all Space Marines (regardless of the wishes of the Primarchs) also underwent therapy that restored their sexual desire.

The Warmaster did this for a number of reasons. First, he felt hatred and disappointment at the fact that the Emperor planned to destroy their species eventually. This explains why the Space Marines lost the desire to reproduce. Their presence is a necessity, not a natural process. At least it was until that day.

Second, Horus was partly influenced by Slaanesh (each of the four gods contributed to his goals and powers) and the desire to create a new species. In a way, a desire to become a real father/parent, as mortals would say.

Only heretics know about Reverse Therapy. The Imperium has harsh propaganda on many aspects concerning Chaos. It is not surprising that people who know about it prefer to remain silent. After all, if the fate of becoming a slave fighter (aka cannon fodder) or a slave for dirty work (and sometimes for torture) frightens the inhabitants of the Imperium. Then the possibility of becoming a warm body is not so scary.

Relationships depend on the specific marine. But if we talk in general, then:

Emperor's Children: A legion of hedonists and debauchees, oddly enough, may be the strangest place for such a slave. Some will simply torture, others will engage in ordinary intimate things. But do not forget that each marine seeks his own pleasure. For example, there were men who spoiled their lovers, giving them whatever they wanted, forgetting about bed. In fact, they treated them like pets (with sexual connotations). Art lovers were noticed trying to sculpt, draw a poor slave. And it does not matter in what state (she is always beautiful!). If this is a beloved wife, then later they made love to her after completing the work. If an ordinary slave, then most often she was walled up alive in wax. Simply put, everything depends on the search for pleasure of the marine you come across.

Night Lords: falling into the hands of a space marine from this legion is akin to playing roulette. Most likely, it will be a sadist who likes to mock his victims not only with ordinary torture. This means that the slaves will not live long. Some keep one slave partly out of sympathy or because it is convenient, continuing to torture. Although there are also quite often “heroes” who simply adore rescuing slave girls (and it does not matter that such knights recently flayed children) and fuck them right next to the corpse of the villain, promising to take care, protect and love forever. Just let them be seen as saviors.

Iron Warriors: Despite the fact that the Space Marines from this legion despise mortals and advocate for efficiency, there is not always only iron inside. Many also crave love, like their primarch, desperately hiding this feeling. Some representatives of this legion can be quite rough in bed. Others, delighted with new sensations, first only hug and kiss. But almost always it all turns into possessive behavior and favorite slaves quickly find themselves under the protection of the master in an iron cage. And of course the poor things will be marked. Either it's a collar, or they will be marked. And yes, the unlucky slaves who didn't find their marine probably would be sent to a brothel (if this place called like this in the Eye of Terror) or became daemonculaba.

Black Legion: breeding kink is hereditary. Most former Sons of Horus easily accepted the reverse therapy. And although some were not thrilled to experience... feelings at the sight of mortals, like the same Abaddon, over time they even liked it. The Black Legion has a variety of Space Marines from other Legions, but some of them also adopted the Sons of Horus attitude to reverse therapy. It is best for a warm slave to end up in this Legion, as she will have a better chance of immediately finding a good patron who will protect her. But if her master would like to share... the weakest doesn't survive.

Word Bearers: perhaps the most unusual Legion when it comes to reverse therapy. Some may use slaves for rituals. If they experience possessive feelings, they will most likely hide them from the rest of the Legion. And then it depends on the Space Marine. It can be a joint study of the Chaos Gods or worship of a beloved. Some Astartes are particularly fond of playing the role of serpent-tempters and corrupting their lovers. Or not. There was even a case of a Word Bearer convincing a girl that in fact he serves the God-Emperor, and the loyalists serve the Four Gods, in order to gain her attention and love.

Death Guard: If Grandfather Nurgle got Grandmother Isha, then why should his beloved grandchildren be alone? The question is not how the Space Marines will treat you (with all the love) but how do they want you? A decayed corpse full of sores and diseases for the glory of Grandfather? Or will you be young and beautiful like Isha, to create a delightful contrast. Either way, they are all terrible owners and treat their slaves very tenderly. At least in their understanding, since it is in this legion that the slaves most often cry (well, just like grandma, exactly, yeah!). Although some can be rude and even evil, they always ask for forgiveness later.

Alpha Legion: It is rather difficult to say how the Space Marines of the most secretive Legion cope with their newfound desire. According to some rumors, copies of the Primarchs like to exchange their slaves. Marines with an extremely expressive appearance most often choose one girl and become possessive to the point of madness (manipulation + Stockholm syndrome are guaranteed). But this is only general data.

Thousand Sons: The Legion joined the "general fun" too late and underwent therapy only before the siege of Terra. And yes, no one explained to them what it was. As a result, the therapy led to... interesting consequences. Some Thousand Sons got used to it as an insignificant feature that should be studied later. Others, little scientists, like to experiment with new sensations and relationships. Some Space Marines like stupid mortals, others adore lovers of knowledge. Some conduct experiments on their slaves, and others cherish them as pets.

World Eaters: Being a Khorn worshippers, these Space Marines forget about all aspects of life except the lust for murder. Most World Eaters do not have warm slaves. However, if they do, they are treated with great care (to the best of their ability). They do not leave their master's chambers because they know that if they leave, their skull will be crushed. Relationships/courtship(?) are always brutal with a touch of oppressive tenderness. World Eaters have a hard time being affectionate, but once they have warm slaves, they try to keep them with all their might.

Sometimes loyalist Space Marines take the path of Chaos. Such traitors also undergo reverse therapy. However, their “first experience” depends on the environment of their new brothers. Sometimes a Space Marine may not be explained the reason for his new feelings and why he suddenly wants to look at mortal women or men.

Such newcomers are the most dangerous. Most often, they kill a slave, eat or break from an excess of feelings. Newcomers who have been explained their desire should also not be trusted. Because in their desire to try the previously forbidden fruit, they may not hold back their strength. All “newcomers” in reverse therapy are usually given the most uninteresting slaves. Rarely does anyone survive. And if a loyalist traitor likes a girl to the point of madness, this surprises, scares a little, and sometimes disgusts the Chaosites (love at first sight? ugh).

The attitude of loyalist traitors to warm slaves depends on many reasons. What legion they came from, what gods they worship, what gang they are in. But most often, the most obsessed and eager for love are all the heirs of the Blood Angels and the Raven Guard. The Iron Hands experience the least sexual desire.

To summarize, “Reverse Therapy” AU where all chaosites have sexual desire in one way or another. However, since they are firstly space marines, and secondly heretics, mortal slaves are afraid to attract their attention. These are always dark feelings, too overexcited and sometimes uncontrollable. The worst is for those who spend only one night with traitors. Others become lovers, consider pets. Who are loved and cherished, but this care is suffocating and gloomy.

P.S. This AU was made partly for me personally, as I always write the attraction of space marines as an exception to the rule or if he is influenced by Slaanesh/Dark Gods. If I create rules and fanon for myself, then I can write more of my darkest ideas. And yes. It will be mostly OC space marines.

[talonabraxas]

Horus 𓄿 Talon Abraxas

Horus (Also Heru-sa-Aset, Hrw, Hr, and Hor-Hekenu) is the falcon-headed god of ancient Egyptian mythology.

Like many other gods the nature of what he was and the legends and stories that went with him changed over the course of history. Horus was an amalgamation of other, related deities, all of whom were sun gods and associated with the royal prerogative and the sky. Because Horus was a combination of other gods, it is rarely correct to refer to "Horus" as Horus was as much a family of related deities (though many had differing parentages) unified in one being; something similar occurs in many Christians' interpretation of the one God who manifests in three parts.

Heru-ur (also called Harmerti) is the oldest version of Horus, and was a falcon creator-god who was known for restraining Apep. His eyes were the sun and the moon; during a new moon, he was blind and was called Mekhenty-er-irty ("he who has no eyes") and upon the return of his sight, he was called Khenty-irty ("he who has eyes"). While blind, Horus was quite dangerous, sometimes attacking his friends after mistaking them for enemies. He was a son of Geb and Nut and was the patron god of Letopolis.

As a child, Horus was called Har-pa-khered ("Horus the child" and called Harpocrates by the Greeks) and was a son of either Osiris and Isis or Banebdjetet and Hatmehit. He was depicted as a naked boy with a finger in his mouth, sitting on a lotus with his mother. In this form, he was a fertility god and was depicted with a cornucopia. Har-pa-Khered became very popular during the time of the Roman Empire, when he was depicted riding a goose or ram (note Banebdjetet, his father, was a ram god).

Later Horus became absolutely aligned as a son of the dead body of Osiris and Isis (alternatively: he emerged from Saosis' acacia tree). This is very often cited as "the" Horus in many scholarly works. In truth, this Horus was called Har-sa-iset or Harsiesis.

As Har-nedj-itef (Harendotes in Greek), Horus was Osiris' bodyguard in the underworld, called the Duat.

As Behedti, Horus was the patron deity of Behdet (cur: Edfu), where he was strongly associated with the falcon.

As Chenti-irti, Horus was a falcon-god of law and order.

Later still he became associated with the sun god Ra where they combined especially at Heliopolis and became Ra-Herekhty (also Ra-Heru-akhety, Her-akhety ("Horus of the two horizons"), Har-em-akhet ("Horus upon the horizon"), Horakhety, Harmachis (Greek)), god of the morning sun.

Anhur was Horus as a union with Shu.

In the 3rd millennium BC, Set became the patron god of the pharaohs (replacing Horus in the form of Har-mau or Harsomtus) after overthrowing Horus in the form of Har-wer or Haroeris. Later a story became popular that Set had killed Horus' father Osiris, and Set was thought of more and more as an evil god. So Har-mau was again made the pharaohs' patron in this myth: A war between Set and Horus ensued, lasting for eighty years. Har-mau tore off one leg and the testicles of Set, who in turn took out Har-mau's left eye (hence he is referred to as "the one-eyed god"). His eye was later returned to him. Horus won the war (with the support of Neith) and became the ruler of Lower and Upper Egypt. Seth was castrated or killed or moved in with Ra and became the voice of thunder.

Horus was the father of the four gods associated with the canopic jars of Egyptian funerary beliefs: Imset, Hapi, Duamutef, and Kebechsenef.

[ananke-xiii]

Although I mainly see the first six episodes of s13 as an engaging portrayal of two grief-stricken people lacking the tools to deal with what has happened to them, I can also totally see them as the so-called "widower arc". Two things can be true at the same time because yes, Dean was totally grieving Cas' death. But I'll make it worse for you.

Maybe I'm biased by the many times I've read the term "widower arc" but Dean was 100% looking for a consort in Cas in s12 (yes, "consort", I'm tired of "partner" or "boy/girlfriend", they're weak terms, give me "sharing destiny" type of old words) so I think this interpretation is not so far-fetched.

We have a grieving widow(er), a desired consort who's dead and then resurrects and a son who's been defined as "the rising son". As I've already said these are some of the elements of one of the most ancient myths in Western culture, that is the myth of Isis and Osiris.

Now, of course it was not a retelling of that myth, I don't even think it was a conscious effort to shape the story that way but sometimes symbols will be symbols, what can you do?

First of all, two brothers: Set and Osiris and Lucifer and Cas. We know how it goes, one brother kills the other (As an aside in one version Set built a wooden chest and tricked Osiris to enter into it just to seal it and drown it in the Nile. We have totally NEVER seen this image in Supernatural. Not even ONCE).

Things get very interesting from here on because in the myth there's a lot of focus on the body of the deceased brother, Osiris/Cas. The most famous way Set disposed of his brother's corpse was to cut it into pieces, to... tear him apart if you will. It is then kinda WILD that AU!Michael kills "his" Lucifer the same way:

MIchael: I killed my Lucifer. Tore him apart in the skies over Abilene. But hey, can’t get enough of a good thing.

Apparently, the body must be somehow intact for resurrection to happen. In the myth Isis has to find his husband's bodyparts scattered all over Egypt in order to resurrect him. So we need to pay extra close attention to Cas' body which we are actually shown in that tragic scene where Dean prepares him for the pyre. So it's Dean who takes care of Cas' body, who "collects" it, just like Isis. Interesting.

In SPN "What gets burned stays dead", therefore Cas cannot resurrect, or so they think. The mantra is repeated by Jack in "Tombstone" when he first sees his father. To be honest, we don't really know how Cas resurrects. For the first time we see what happens to him between death and rebirth but we miss the technicalities. We can only assume that Cas' ashes were enough. Or maybe, just maybe, that's just a rule that applies in Chuck's story. Just saying.

I'm not sure if they try to discover how Jack managed to do that but the point remains: it was Jack who woke Cas up in the Empty.

And why did he do that? Well, because he can. The very first thing that Jack does is resurrecting Kelly in an episode aptly named "The Future", where Jack is sort of introduced via his mother's resurrection. He doesn't know how to use this power but he unconsciously does it again with his father. And I ask again: why?

Jack wakes Cas up in "The Big Empty", four episodes into the season. He could've done it sooner? No. Because what prompts him to unconsciously act is Dean's grief. And Dean reaches his boiling point when Sam finally provokes him. Osiris/Cas dies and his consort Isis/Dean is inconsolable. Other people like Sam can forget about it, but Dean can't in every sense of the verb.

In the myth it's Isis who resurrects Osiris and has a child, Horus, with him. But she got help. Dean's only human but there is a demi-god running around in his bunker so I think that helped. And Cas must be credited for the effort and the pushing.

Let's just say that resurrecting Castiel took three, actually four people okay? It required a team effort. Because none of them is a fully-fledged god like God or Amara or some Archangel who can just snap their fingers and boom welcome back to Life. Coaxing someone into resurrection (a resurrection with consent) takes a lot of willpower... and a lot of love.

I said four people because the last character in this little story is The Shadow. And we see this in the myth as well!

Isis doesn't "just" resurrect Osiris, she has to convince the motherfucker. Cause, you see, Osiris's heart was tired. A tired heart! Oh so beautiful! He didn't see the reason to go back to life. He was sooo tired. Isis has to literally seduce him back to life. And... this is kind of what The Shadow does, but in reverse? It tells Castiel to go back to sleep, to find peace, it's been in his mind and he wants to sleep, it knows!

The Shadow is Cas' tiredness, all his failures and regrets. But, as I said, it takes a lot of willpower and a lot of love to resurrect the dead, this is what Isis teaches us actually. To love more and then some more. And Cas loves back and he loves hard.

Castiel: You can prance and you can preen and you can scream and yell and remind me of my failings but somehow, I’m awake. And I will stay awake and I will keep you awake until we both go insane. I will fight you. Fight you and fight you for…ever. For eternity.

He didn't come back because he annoyed an ancient cosmic being. He came back because he loved.

So Osiris/Cas are back to life and that's good, right? Well... yeahhh. The thing is that Osiris will then live in the world of the dead so he kinda doesn't really really stay alive for long. And Isis will follow him. Things will likely go bad for Cas.

But the story continues!

Set/Lucifer and Horus/Jack engage in a rather disturbing (in the myth) struggle for power. The myth has different endings: in one they reconcile, in another they divide the realm, in yet another one Horus is the one true winner. So we don't really know (from this point in the narrative) how things will actually turn out for the two of them.

Isn't it interesting? Well, it's not surprising because there is a connection between christian stories and greek and egyptian ones but still? Kinda cool to see how myths keep repeating and repeating. As if we're still trying to understand them.

Anyway: yes to the widower arc, yes to love piercing through the veil of death. Both ways! It takes the love of two to resurrect.

[coinandcandle]

Isis Deity Deep Dive

Known most notably as the “mother goddess”, Isis comes with many names, many stories, and many talents. Let’s get to know her!

Parents and Siblings

Geb and Nut

Osiris (brother)

Set (brother)

Nephthys (sister)

Horus the Elder (brother)

Lovers or Partners

Osiris is most commonly noted as her husband

Min

Serapis

Horus the Elder

Children

Horus (the younger)

Min

Four Sons of Horus

Bastet (sometimes)

Isis had many names (see image for her name in Hieroglyphs), often these doubled as titles that described her role.

The Divine One

The Queen of all Gods

Queen of Heaven

The Maker of Sunrise

Mother of God

Khut: giver of light at the beginning of a new year

Usert: goddess of the earth

Thenenet: goddess of the Tuat (the underworld)

Satis: the Nile flood’s power

Ankhet: providing fertility from the waters and embracer of the land

Kekhet: goddess of the fields and the cultivated areas

Renenet: goddess of the harvest

Tcheft: goddess of the food offered to the gods by humans

Ament: lady of the underworld who restored the bodies of the dead so they could live with Osiris in his kingdom.

Notes

Other names given to the goddess are Aset, Aust, Eenohebis, Eset, Esu, Hesat, Iahu, Unt, Urethekau, and Werethekau.

Her name has been debated to mean “throne” or “the seat”

There are no known references to Isis before the 5th Dynasty. Starting in obscurity, she became one of the most popular Kemetic deities, with a reach far beyond Egypt. This gave her many associations over time.

She is a psychopomp, leading the dead to the afterlife, which relates to her husband Osiris.

Often given the role or title of “mourner”, she was mentioned in the rites of the dead.

While being associated with death, she was also heavily associated with healing and magic, these two associations becoming more prominent as time went on and she gained popularity.

Isis is often conflated with fellow Kemetic goddess, Hathor, who she shares a likeness with in many ways and eventually usurped power as the most popular goddess in Egypt.

In one tale, it is said that Isis tricked Ra into revealing his true name to her, and as such gave her his magical abilities.

Seen as the ideal mother, the ideal wife, and all around ideal woman of the time, Isis gained popularity amongst high society and the common folk alike.

Her primary temples were in Behbeit el-Hagar and Philae, though she was often worshipped in many other temples, even in those not dedicated to her, but on a more minor level.

Due to her many associations, she also eventually came to be seen as the patron goddess of sea-farers.

Weaving, baking, and brewing beer are associated with her as well, as is the star Sirius and the kite falcon and the rearing cobra.

Festivals of Isis in Roman times were held on December 25, January 6, and March 5. Lychnapsia has also been suggested to be a festival dedicated to Isis.

Unlike many Kemetic deities, whose clergy were required to be of the same gender as the god, men and women both served in Isis’ temples.

In Greece her cult developed into a Mystery Religion and it held strong all throughout the Mediterranean until the 6th century CE.

Isis was said to conceal herself as an old or injured woman begging for alms.

Correspondences

Any traditional correspondence will be marked with a (T).

Rocks/Stone/Crystals

Bronze, red jasper (T), gold

Herbs/Plants

Acacia, persea, and date palm (sacred trees in Ancient Egypt), lotus, wheat

Cobra (T)

Scorpion (T)

Kite (or kestrel) (T)

Offerings

Beer (T)

Wine (T)

Honey (T)

Clean Water

Incense

Milk (T)

Perfume

Acts of Devotion

Practicing magic

Practicing medicine

Donating to charities involving healing or protecting those in need

Creating or reciting poems, hymns, songs, or prayers to Isis

References and Further Reading

Ancient Egypt Online - Isis

Britannica - Isis

The Complete Gods And Goddesses of Ancient Egypt by Umair Mirza

Wikipedia - Isis

World History Encyclopedia - Isis

Center for Hellenic Studies - Isis

Isiopolis (A votive work for Isis)

“I Am Isis”: The Role of Speech in the Cult of Isis by Martin Bommas

[godslavecomic]

New GODSLAVE⚡️ New page⚡️⚡️ Today: Kai finally finishes their spell... 🌙 Read GODSLAVE from the beginning 🌞 Join the Patreon 👽 Follow the newsletter ⚡️ Buy Book One⚡️

[lady-rosceline-hurst]

...<FILE PLAYBACK COMPLETE>

...

Huh. Ya'know. When you dragged me over here, I really thought you'd be showing me like. Blackmail material. Or corporate espionage.

What would be the point of that? I don't give a rat's ass about how Karrakin Colonial governments are run.

Roy. You are using a Karrakin noblewoman's actual fucking diary as your personal Omninet drama. Do you see a problem with that?

No.

;-;

This was a really recent one, too. I put spyware in the database before they sealed it.

This isn't even from the data you downloaded to begin with!? You're STILL hacking her!?

That's what I said, isn't it? We can go through the older stuff after this one finishes uploading.

Uplo- wait what?

...<UPLOAD COMPLETE>

...<TRANSCRIBING AUDIO>

...

Uggh. Another long day. I knew not whether I would have time to record mine thoughts tonight. The Passions hath blessed me with... three... four minutes to mine own self?

<sigh>

The last several months hath been beyond difficult. I did know that Rebecca's operations were important, but... keeping things together hath been a nightmare without her, truly. How many supply lines pillaged without the feared Champion of the Caldera to protect them? How much revenu-

Nay. Nay. Fie! Damn it all! Mother and Father would chastise me for mine weakness, but revenue and trade... I care nothing for such things at present. I miss mine sister. So much. As furious as I am with her, I miss the hellion! And the lives... How many lives hath been snuffed out by these filthy pirates!? I know not why I care so much! Mother and father's lessons art clear, I should view these losses practically, but I fear this burning in mine chest shall consumeth me!

The last ship which was set upon... I did speak with a man who worked aboard it once. I knew not his name, but he did greet me with a smile upon mine tour of the vessel. I inquired as to the nature of the pin he wore upon his lapel. Twas given him by his son... Did he clutch that pin as the vessel was ripped open? By weaponry the Harrison mongrels did "dump" for the pirates to "conveniently find?" As the life did fade from him, did he hold that pin close, that it might protect him? That he might wake with his son's eyes upon him?

<hitched breathing and sniffling>

Why now do I weep for the ignoble? Why doth a knot form in mine stomach when a mercenary calleth himself mine "tool," mine "weapon?" Passions forbid, what would Mother and Father say if I did use the word... friend? Mayhap all this talk of clones and tools hath riddled mine mind with uncertainty. Mayhap Rebecca did take mine fucking senses with her. Heavens, I hath grown soft!

<glass shattering, a frustrated shriek>

It doth not matter! I am not so soft that I cannot defend what is mine! The Horus Warlock's ship is nearly repaired. Two Kavaliers will see the jungle parted in a river of blood. The pirates will die. Everything will make sense once more. Finally. Finally...

...<TRANSCRIPTION COMPLETE>

[egypt-museum]

Statuette of Duamutef

This Jackal-headed god statuette, one of the four gods protecting the organs of Tutankhamun, is easily mistaken for Anubis but is in fact Duamutef “He who adores his mother”.

Duamutef is one of the Four Sons of Horus, to whose particular protection the stomach was entrusted once it had been removed from the body during mummification. He himself was protected or helped by the goddess Neith. The god was closely connected with the east.

Photo from Tutankhamun: Treasures of the Golden Pharaoh at the Saatchi Gallery London Nov 2019 – May 2020. via THEFARMparis/Twitter Read more