#egyptian hieroglyphics necklace

[dolcevalentinaofficial]

Ultimate Guide to Baby Bangles and Infant Jewellery

When it comes to adorning our little ones, nothing is more precious than the delicate beauty of baby bangles and infant jewellery. From gold-plated baby bracelets to personalised newborn bangles, these pieces are not just accessories; they are keepsakes that capture the essence of childhood. This comprehensive guide explores various types of baby jewellery, their significance, and how to choose the perfect pieces for your child.

The Charm of Baby Bangles

Baby bangles are a timeless piece of jewellery that parents have cherished for generations. These tiny, elegant rings encircle a baby’s wrist, adding a touch of sophistication to their attire. Available in various designs, materials, and customisations, baby bangles make an excellent gift for special occasions like christenings, birthdays, and even as a sentimental keepsake.

Types of Baby Bangles

Gold Baby Bangles

Gold Baby Bangles: These classic bangles are crafted from pure gold or gold plating, offering a luxurious touch. Gold baby bangles are not only beautiful but also hold value, making them a lasting heirloom.

Gold Plated Baby Bracelet: A more affordable option that still exudes elegance, gold-plated baby bracelets are popular for their durability and style.

Silver Baby Bangles

Silver Bangles for Infants: Silver is another popular choice for baby bangles, known for its simplicity and charm. Silver bangles are perfect for everyday wear and special occasions.

Silver Bangle with Blue Stone: Adding a touch of colour, these bangles often feature a small blue stone, symbolising tranquillity and protection.

Custom Baby Bangles

Custom Baby Bracelet Gold: Personalised with the baby's name or birth date, custom gold bangles are cherished for their unique and sentimental value.

Engraved Baby Bracelet: These bangles can be engraved with names, initials, or meaningful messages, making them a perfect gift that carries personal significance.

Infant Jewellery for Special Occasions

Infant jewellery isn't limited to everyday wear; it also plays a significant role in various cultural and religious ceremonies.

Christening Bracelets

Christening Bracelets: These bracelets are often given as gifts during baptism or christening ceremonies. They can be simple or elaborate, often featuring religious symbols or inscriptions.

Egyptian Themed Jewellery

Hieroglyphics Necklace: Drawing inspiration from ancient Egypt, these necklaces feature hieroglyphic inscriptions, adding a historical touch to the baby's jewellery collection.

Egyptian Cartouche Necklace: A unique piece that can be customised with the baby's name in hieroglyphics, symbolising protection and royal heritage.

Baby Jewellery Trends

Baby Protection Bracelet: Rooted in various cultures, these bracelets are believed to protect babies from negative energies and bring good luck.

Indian Bracelet Meaning: In Indian culture, bracelets or bangles are often worn as a symbol of good fortune and protection.

Jewellery Advent Calendar: A delightful trend, these calendars feature a piece of jewellery for each day leading up to Christmas, creating excitement and joy for both parents and children.

Choosing the Perfect Baby Jewellery

When selecting jewellery for your baby, consider the following factors:

Safety: Ensure that the jewellery is made from hypoallergenic materials and has smooth edges to prevent any harm to the baby’s delicate skin.

Size: Choose adjustable pieces or those specifically designed for infants to ensure a comfortable fit.

Durability: Babies are active, so the jewellery should be sturdy enough to withstand daily wear and tear.

Personalisation: Adding the baby’s name or a special date makes the jewellery unique and meaningful.

Sentimental Baby Gifts

Sentimental Baby Gifts: Personalised baby jewellery, such as engraved bracelets or custom name bangles, make heartfelt gifts that can be treasured for a lifetime.

Seasonal and Themed Jewellery

Halloween Gifts for Infants: Cute and themed jewellery pieces for Halloween can add to the festive spirit.

Gold Jewellery Advent Calendar: A luxurious advent calendar featuring gold jewellery pieces can be a delightful surprise for the holiday season.

Conclusion

Baby bangles and infant jewellery are more than just accessories; they are symbols of love, heritage, and protection. Whether you choose a gold baby bangle, a custom engraved bracelet, or a hieroglyphics necklace, each piece carries a story and a memory. As you adorn your child with these precious pieces, you create lasting memories and heirlooms that will be cherished for generations to come.

[destinyandcoins]

i swear every time ryan wears a button-up shirt on camera it's unbuttoned even further than last time. one of these days an episode of ghost files is going to open up on the boo bunker set and ryan will be sitting there like this

[egypt-museum]

Necklace of Tutankhamun with Lunar Pectoral

This necklace was discovered in a cartouche-shaped box that was found on the floor of the treasury and likely worn during Tutankhamun’s life.

Pectorals attached to necklaces and decorated with figures of deities and the symbols that were associated with them formed a high proportion of the jewelry found in Tutankhamun's tomb. In this example the chains of the necklace consist of four rows of spherical and barrel-shaped beads made of gold, lapis lazuli, carnelian, feldspar and resin.

The pectoral symbolizes the nocturnal journey of the moon across the sky. At the base is the long, narrow, hieroglyphic sign for the sky, appropriately inlaid with blue lapis lazuli.

New Kingdom, late 18th Dynasty, ca. 1332-1323 BC. Tomb of Tutankhamun (KV62), Valley of the Kings, Thebes. Now in the Egyptian Museum, Cairo. JE 61897

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[furordinaricvs]

Face of the coffin of the “Belgrade mummy”, ancient Egyptian mummy from the Ptolemaic period, late 4th-early 3rd century BC around 300 years BC, from the collection of the National Museum of Serbia in Belgrade.

The coffin with the mummy was purchased in Luxor, Egypt, by Pavle Riđički in late 19th century, who donated it to the National Museum of Serbia in 1888.

This antropoid (human-like) coffin contains a mummy of Nesmin, ancient Egyptian priest from Akhmim, some 200 kilometers north of Luxor. Name Nesmin means “The one who belongs to god Min”. In 1885 in Luxor a stone stele was found, carved with inscription dedicated to Nesmin and his family, saying thet Nesmin, as all his male ancestors, was a priest in a temple dedicated to Min, god of fertility and harvest. The stele is now kept in Egyptian Museum in Kairo in Egypt.

The coffin is made of the tamarix wood, and it used to be richly decorated with painted motifs in vivid colors and some details in gold. Only traces of the coloration are now preserved. Below the chin is a hole which used to hold a ceremonial beard. Eyes and eyebrows on the face of the coffin were made of blue glass paste, and face was covered with gold. In the stomack area is painted goddess Nut with spread wings, and below are two symetrical figures of god Anubis.

Lower part of the lid also bears and important hieroglyphic inscription, a passage from the Egyptian Book of the Dead, chapter 191 dedicated to the return of the soul into the body. This chapter is rarely find on the coffins, only about 20 coffins with this text are known so far.

Dimensions of the coffin – 182.5 x 52 x 42 cm.

Arms of the Nesmin’s mummy were crossed on the chest, and nails on his hands and toes were covered with gold. Eyes were replaced with non-metalic implants. Within the banages of the mummy were found different amulets made of gold, lapis lazuli semi-precious stone and faiance representing djed pillars, gods Nephtys, Horus, Isis and Maat, Eye of Horus and heart amulet, along with composite necklace comprised of many faiance beads. The mummy also contained papirus scroll of the Book of the Dead.

Cartonage mask and cover of the mummy are preserved only in framents, on which are visible falcon heads painted on the collar, and figures of goddesses Isis, Nephtys and Nut and some minor deities.

Anthropological analysis showed that Nesmin suffered from spine deformities spondylosis and scoliosis. He was around 165 cm tall and was about 50 years old when he died.

The coffin and Nesmin’s mummy are currently kept in Archaeological collection of Faculty of Philosophy in Belgrade

[clazaries]

Karma in the Form of Justice -slightlydark!Steven w/ a hint of Marc x thief!reader

Summary: An opportunist thief takes their chances stealing from the wrong tomb and has to face their karma in the form of Moon Knight. Basically, don't get on the wrong side about Egyptian matters when it comes to Steven and if he teaches you something, you better remember it. w/c: 6.9k Warnings: none really, mentions of violence and murder :) and my horrible knowledge of ancient egypt. You are the bad guy in this a/n: first fic! I kinda wrote steven slightly differently to canon steven and made him a little darker ;) ENJOY

***

It started out innocent. Because, of course, you were only 7 years old at the time. When the class was emptying out through the doorway, little, dumb Timmy left his British Museum pencil sitting freely on his desk, begging for someone to claim it. That someone was you. The urge to take it was overwhelming and you succumbed to temptation, stashing the pencil deep into your pocket when no one was looking and when no one could figure out the mystery of the disappearing pencil, it was exhilarating knowing that you were the only one who held the secret as to where it went. 

The feeling followed as you got older. 

It started out with a pencil. Then a pencil case. From a pencil case to a school bag. Within that school bag was a purse containing a little over £1.50, but still, it was a treasured find. From purses to watches, necklaces, rings, valuables, anything that could be pawned and make you that slightly bit richer. When you were old enough to realise about the illegalities of your little habits, guilt and paranoia began to make themselves known to you. But they were equally matched with the feeling of euphoria and the adrenaline of getting away with it, so although you did try to tone it back, you never really stopped. 

By your late teens, the routine grew tiresome and you endeavoured for something bigger, better, flashier and ten times more riskier. You had to look no further than your very first pilferage. 

The British Museum.

~~~~

If you ever tried to justify your actions, what sets you apart from the usual petty thieves is patience and intention. Thieves lack the former but embody the latter. They grow greedy and would plan and scheme and waste hours (the stupid ones don’t plan at all), throwing themselves into a situation that would inevitably result in handcuffs. You, on the other hand, were an opportunist, patient enough to know to pounce only when the moment presented itself on a silver platter. Why chase the thrill when you could let it find you? 

On one random day during the week while your parents were enjoying their two week vacation to Italy, you decided to skip school and take a trip to the Museum. You did very little research before entering (after all, less planning means less intention means less suspicion), so you were pleasantly surprised by the museum’s ongoing exhibition of artefacts from ancient Egypt. 

Your legs carried you in no certain direction, weaving in and out of the display cabinets of stone statues, plaques of hieroglyphics and crumbling pieces of sand. Despite it all being rather interesting, the artefacts weren’t the only thing your eyes were scanning for. Within the first room alone, you spotted 6 cameras and one patrol officer meandering just as casually as you were. There was no need to panic though, you were here to peruse. Not to steal. 

You couldn’t promise yourself any restraint should the opportunity arise…

“Ah! I see you’ve found the Ushabti of Pa-Di-Pep.” An enthusiastic voice from your left appeared behind you. You turned to see a man with black curly hair, donning an enthusiastic smile as his eyes bounced from the ‘ushabti’ and you. “26th dynasty,” he muttered a little quieter. “Very old. Well, I guess that’s obvious. Wouldn’t be an exhibition on ancient Egypt if it was modern.” As his laughter died, your eyes caught the glint of his name tag on his jacket. Steven. You gathered he worked here. 

“Oh, cool.” Your tone was rather disinterested and couldn’t be more sarcastic if you tried. “You know your stuff.”

“Oh it’s right up my alley actually. I’ve spent loads of time reading up on this kind of stuff. I could tell you anything about everything in this room. If you’d like?” The way he rolled on the balls of his feet like a child told you that he so clearly wanted to. You decided to indulge in him, only because you could get something out of it. 

“Sure. It would be a great help towards my school project.” A clever lie, one that is easily bought by the sad little man beside you, lighting up his eyes and rolling his enthusiasm back to high tide. “So what about this ushabti, then? Anything else you can tell me about that?” 

The man rambled on for a little while longer than you wanted, waiting for that perfect opportunity to segue onto the question that was hot on your lips. What was it worth?

“...figurines could also be inscribed with passages from the Book of the Dead, the intention of which was to secure safety for the deceased in the afterlife.”

“So not quite the ideal decoration to have in your house then?” 

“Oh no, no, not at all. These are funeral artefacts, usually left buried along with a tomb.” 

“Bummer. I was really looking into sprucing up my living room with one of these,” you jested, bumping a gentle elbow against his. 

He elbowed back, “would really take the ‘living’ out of ‘living room’.”

“Definitely not worth it.” You began to look around the room, gambling with the idea of whether or not an opportunity could be found here. The security might’ve been too much of a risk. But it didn’t mean you couldn’t window shop. “So tell me then, out of anything in here, what would be worth having in your living room?” 

“Where to begin? Oh! Here…” 

Honestly, you zoned out, not having the slightest interest in anything he was saying unless it had any relevance to you. The man droned on and on about the history and the magnificence of each piece he talked about but nothing about its worth. You were about to try and cut ties until you both came across an interesting piece that gained your attention. 

“And this is the bronze figure of the Egyptian God Ptah-”

“Ptah? Who’s he?”

He looked at you, dumbfounded, as if you'd just asked what day it was. “Who’s he? He’s only the Egyptian God of creation?! He was believed to have dreamt creation in his heart and gave it life with his breath.” 

Spare me the poetry, pal. What’s it worth? Give me a number. 

“So top shelf mantle material.” You feigned interest, smiling widely at him. 

“Definitely. A very expensive one at that. Would set you back at least 37 grand.” 

Interesting. 

You stayed for a little while until the number of witnesses dwindled into single digits. The museum was beginning to close up, staff were outnumbering visitors with the majority of them leaving through the gift shop which conveniently sold replicas of the bronze figure ‘Steven’ showed you earlier.

You always told yourself that you never planned, but another opportunity had opened up to you and you couldn’t help but call it fate. 

It went flawlessly. When no one was looking you swiftly snatched the real bronze figure, giving you the seconds you needed to make it to the gift shop before the panicked patrol officer alerted staff. The hubbub of the precious missing artefact opened up the second opportunity to swipe a replica from the shelf. 

“Oh, excuse me!” You had yelled, holding the replica up in the air, the real one encased in your rucksack. “I saw some kid walking out with this, I believe it belongs here.” Your sickly smile fooled the patrol staff, knowing none the wiser, and kindly took the replica with a relieved breath, placing it back onto its pedestal.

You walked out the museum 37 grand richer.

~~~~

Whenever you pulled something off like this, you tended to keep your head low for at least a week after, limiting the amount of times you left your home, and kept communication to an absolute minimum. Within a few weeks, you were back to your normal self. However, this time the euphoria was very short-lived. It had been a day after your theft when the paranoia settled in and you had never known it to be so all-consuming. With a pilferage worth 37 grand, it meant that the stakes were far too high to wager with. Finding rest was a rare luxury for at least a week. You tried to ease your way through the days feeling conflicted and, in all honesty, petrified of the foreseeable. With each day that passed, you found it harder and harder to keep your paranoia at bay and you didn’t dare leave your home and the mental torture plagued you with restlessness; having to check locks four, fives times before you left each room. 

Your home started to feel like less of a safe space. You couldn’t explain the feeling you had every morning when you woke up, itching with an unease that someone had been watching you, spying on you, observing you with resentment in their eyes with what you had chosen to do with your life. It was then you started to notice things being out of place; the ridge in your carpet had changed shape, curtains had been drawn wider than how you usually left them, a kitchen chair was facing just a degree or two out of place. That same night, you remembered standing in the middle of your bedroom with a cold breeze drafting around you, but it wasn’t the reason for your shivers. To your left a creak of the floorboards, to your right a moan of the wind. Something wasn’t right. Something definitely wasn’t right. 

It could’ve been your paranoia, it could’ve been your lack of sleep, but you were certain you spotted two glowing eyes peering through your window from across the street, staring directly into your soul. 

“Fuck this,” you whispered to yourself. Without a moments’ hesitation you reached for the bronze figure you had stashed within the hollows of your wall. “Time to get rid of this.” 

Being quite the weasel you are, you sold the bronze figure for almost double the money on the black market and made the very bold decision to get out of the country before you were consumed by guilt. 

~~~~

3 years later

“You ready?” Amon asks you, propping up his scarf over his face to fight against the sandy winds. You nod to him before following him into the entrance of the tomb that lies just beneath an alcove, hidden in the shadows of the dunes. 

Amon had already scouted the entrance of the tomb a few days prior, so he takes lead on the scavenge guiding the way with a bright white torch and the moment you step into the tomb, you become his shadow. The tunnel is narrow and carries a draft only a fraction of the winds outside and it’s something you’re thankful for, otherwise you would be dripping right through your clothes with sweat. Every step is with caution, every living breath is considered your last, both you and Amon are aware of the risks that these tunnels carry. 

Amon, being a local, had his reasons for entering the tunnel; he knows of the treasures and rarities of what lies inside, a conversation that caught wind and found your eavesdropping ears in the midst of a busy town outside Cairo. Not to mention, he’s as greedy for his share of the fortune if you are skillful enough to succeed. Unfortunately, being a local, he also has his reasons not to enter. On a spiritual level, this tomb is considered to be cursed, ladened with traps of an Egyptian mind that could easily kill you with one wrong step. He is too afraid to do it alone.

On a more realistic level, the structure is unsupported, tunnels weaving their way beneath tonnes and tonnes of ancient bricks, sand and rubble that could collapse at any given moment. That’s the real risk you’re more frightened of. 

“How much of this did you actually scout?” You ask.

“I go until no more.” His broken English rises above the low moaning whistle which Amon claims to be the voice of the dead, warning you to turn back while you still have a chance. You don’t heed his superstitions.

You both eventually reach the point that Amon had mentioned and honestly, you were expecting it to be a lot further into the tomb and not just a few minutes into the journey. Before you, a collapsed section of the tunnel with a small point of entrance between the ground and rubble. Eyeing it up, you realise it’s big enough that you could squeeze yourself through there if you held your breath but taking a second glance at Amon, there’s no way his 5'10 well-fed body could do the same. 

He gestures to the blockage, “I go until no more.” 

“Right.” You heave a sigh, considering your options; ignore the risks and do it alone, or turn around and walk away from it all. 

Alas, that small hole is an opportunity. And where there is an opportunity, there is possibility. 

You begin to strip yourself of your equipment until you are down to a few layers of clothing. You lower yourself onto your stomach heading face first through the opening. “When I get through, pass me my equipment, okay?” Amon nods in understanding, but not without mentioning how crazy he thinks you are. 

It’s an awkward shuffle through to the other side. Hands, elbows, knuckles and knees are scraping against the ground in an attempt to push your way through, aided by the breath of relief when you make it to the other side. Beams of white light shine through the cracks in the rubble and when Amon hears you made it, he passes through your equipment. 

You find his eyes through one of the cracks. “Will you wait?” You reluctantly ask, suddenly feeling vulnerable now that you have been separated. 

“Yes. I have walkie-talkie. Atamanaa lak al tawfiq.” You don’t know what he said, but from his tone and the way he looks at you with hope you guess that it’s along the lines of ‘good luck’. 

With a final nod, you head off into the unknown, your torch shining the way. 

There’s a million thoughts running through your head as you delve deeper into the tomb, but yet not one that gives you any comfort. What if there isn’t anything to find? What if you get lost? What if Amon doesn’t wait for you? What if you get trapped? 

What if you die?

They remind you that you are way out of your depth here, you aren’t an adventurer nor an explorer of any sort. You’re an opportunist thief who takes their chances where they shouldn’t. What the hell are you doing here?

You force yourself to swallow your growing discomfort, clinging on to the small possibility and Amon’s knowledge that you do find something worth your while. Besides, it’s that small possibility that motivated you to crawl through that opening and continue your journey. You have to keep going.

The tunnels eventually open up into a massive hollow cavern lined with broken paths and cliff edges, hanging over a substantial drop. You take a moment to collect yourself, eyes following the paths and finding that the only way is down. Down into the pit of darkness. There isn’t a sound to be heard, and if it wasn’t for your powerful torch, you wouldn’t be able to see a thing. The breeze has calmed to nothing, not a single wisp of your hair moving upon your head and the heat starts to become more of a nuisance. Your palms sweat as you cling onto protruding rocks along the wall and your torch threatens to slip from your grasp. It’s a challenging obstacle course, manoeuvring yourself from one path to another, planning and scheming as you go. 

“You there Amon?” The bleep of the walkie-talkie bounces against the walls of the cavern, its echo travelling for miles. You estimate that you’re about 50 feet down from where you started.

“Yes. Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, the tomb goes deep. I don’t know if the signal will carry if I get to the bottom…” you pause, hesitant over your next words. “This might take a while. If you don’t hear from me in 4 hours, then just leave.” 

“Leave you? No, no, no, I wait in car. You come back in 4 hours. Yes?” 

“Okay. I’ll contact you again when I get to the--shit!!” What stops you mid-sentence is the pair of glowing white eyes at the bottom of the cavern, floating, watching, observing. You’ve seen those eyes before. It was unnerving the first time but it’s even more terrifying the second time, a new wave of fear now rattling your bones. Your heart rate picks up, your pulse almost thrumming in your ears in sheer panic. No, no, no. It can’t be…

You shine your torch towards the eyes but in its deathly white glow, they disappear, reappearing only when you avert your torch.

“Hello? You okay? Hello?!” Amon’s almost yelling through the walkie-talkie. 

“I’m okay, sorry, just…” You have no idea what to say, eyes glued to the glowing ones miles below you. “Just got a fright.” 

“Be careful,” is that last thing Amon says to you before the line goes dark. When all is silent, you’re left to quietly battle against the glowing pair of eyes, unmoving and unblinking. You don’t dare take a single step, adamant on keeping your gaze locked firmly below you with two hands clenched around the torch in a white-knuckled grip. You quickly become stuck in a cycle of shining your torch onto them, repeatedly watching them disappear and reappear in the hopes that they’ll eventually vanish forever. 

“Fuck…just leave me alone,” you quietly murmur to yourself. When the eyes refuse to react, you bravely decide to take a single side step, closer towards your next descent where you know you will have to detach your gaze, but you know you can’t stay here forever. The eyes don’t move, they don’t blink, they just keep watching you. So you take another step, and another, and another…

Within a matter of panic-inducing seconds, you eventually reach the edge of a ridge when your torch begins flickering, the light dimming with each flicker. “No, no, no you have to be kidding me!” Stressed, you bang the torch against your palm in a nervous attempt to keep the light, it’s your only salvation right now, you can’t lose it. You could’ve sworn the batteries were fully charged. You had them charging overnight knowing you were going into a dark tomb, why aren’t they working? Fuck, why won’t they work?! 

Despite your distraction, you’re hyper aware of the eyes below you, eyes that you are not currently watching and having lost your composure, your paranoia floods you with thoughts that this was what they were waiting for; their moment to pounce. They could be scaling the walls towards your position. They could have moved and you wouldn’t know. They could be inches from you and you wouldn’t even notice until it was too late. You feel it. They’re crawling closer and closer and closer…

After a few heart stopping seconds, the torch finally flashes to life and with a desperate sob you shine the bright beam towards the eyes as if the light is your shield. Like before they disappear, but unlike before, they don’t reappear. They’re gone. You can’t see them anywhere. Not above, not below. Gone. 

The stress overwhelms you and you drop to your knees, passing a strangled whimper and letting your heart rate slow to an easy beat. Fuck. You’re still a long way to go, how are you going to manage? 

Against your better judgement, you continue at a slow and agonising pace, still very aware of your surroundings as if you’re expecting the eyes to appear again. Thankfully, about an hour and a half of descending down the multiple jumps and hazardous steps, you reach an opening. Finding another narrow tunnel that leads you away from the cavern seems like a saving-grace and you don’t give the glowing eyes another opportunity to appear before you follow the trail. 

“Amon, can you hear me?” Your walkie-talkie hisses a low frequency back at you. “Amon, are you there?” 

No response. You are truly on your own now. 

You readjust your rucksack straps, retie your bootlaces, wipe the sweat from your brow, and with feigned determination, you set off through yet another dark, narrow tunnel with your untrustworthy torch in hand. 

You quickly find that this one isn’t like the one you and Amon travelled through at the entrance, this one feels like a maze. Despite it having only one path and being completely linear, there is a tight 90 degree corner every 5 or 6 steps. Left, right, left, left, right, left, right, right, left. It’s unnerving because even though you know you can’t get lost and you know exactly where you came from, there’s no way of telling what lies ahead of you, no way of telling what lurks just around the corner, waiting for you in the darkness. What’s worse is that there’s no way of telling if anything is following you until it’s exactly five steps behind you which, by that point, there’s no outrunning it. You’ve never felt paranoia like it and the deeper you trail, the more anxious you become. 

After fifteen minutes, you feel you’re going in circles. Logically, you know it isn’t possible but the disorientation you feel convinces you otherwise. You’ve taken so many left and right-hand turns that you’ve lost count and you just can’t map it out in your head. There has to be an end, this can’t go on for much longer. 

After another five minutes, you stop to gather your sanity tucked neatly into one of the many corners of the tunnel, keeping track of where you came from and where you intend to go. You cleanse your mind with a refreshing drink of cold water, splashing some sparingly across your forehead and the back of your neck, revelling in the small relief it brings you. The droplets on the ground are the only evidence of your travels and you figure it would be a good indication should you succeed in making it back. Just a couple of more hours, you tell yourself. You can do it. 

Composed, you rise to your feet ready to take another step but before you do, your torch flickers again, subjecting you to intermittent seconds of pure darkness. Your heart stops dead in your chest. The last time that happened the eyes were watching you and you can’t bear to think that time is repeating itself. 

Your strategy from last time fails you and no matter how hard you hit the flashlight against your palm, this time it doesn’t come back to life. Flicking the switch off and on again does it no good either and your breathing becomes panicked. Crouched in the corner, you’re enveloped in darkness. It’s so dark that you begin to see swirls of your imagination floating in front of your eyes, so dark that you can’t even see your hand inches from your face, yet still your eyes flicker around frantically as if you could see. 

Helpless, you turn to your other senses, feeling around the rocky sandy ground in search of your rucksack where you know you packed emergency flares. It’s a struggle to rummage for them and until you do, you keep on high alert, listening out for anything out of the ordinary. 

That’s when you hear it; the crumbling of sand, the crunching of footsteps and the soft ruffle of fabric. Someone’s here. There’s no doubt about it. Everything in you is screaming to just abandon the flare and just run but fear keeps you rooted with your hand deep into your rucksack. Your heart feels like a weight in your chest, banging against your rib cage to escape the situation you’re in but your brain tells you to stay, hoping that whoever, whatever, is here is just as blinded by the darkness as you are. If you move, it’ll hear you. 

Your hand eventually knocks against the flare, feeling the familiar cylinder encased in your hand. Alarmed, you pull it out and set it alight, its red flare bursting to life. It gives light to the corridors to your right and to your left…where a tall, daunting mummified figure in white stands, glaring its glowing white eyes on you. Its sudden presence kick starts your reflexes and adrenaline pumps through your veins, pushing you to your feet with a hysterical whimper escaping your throat, and before you even know it, you’re running almost blindly through the tunnel. There isn’t a second thought spared to the broken flashlight and the rucksack full of equipment you mistakenly left behind, running further and further away from whatever is stalking behind you. With the flare outstretched, red walls zoom by you as you try to cut every corner, scraping shoulders and elbows against the walls in a desperate attempt to increase the distance between you and that thing. 

You can hear it behind you, marching at a quick pace, its footsteps drumming into your ears gradually getting closer and louder. Oh God. It’s right behind you. Keep running, keep running, fuck just don’t stop running!

Tears and sweat glide down your cheeks and you begin to worry that it’ll be the last thing you feel before this being captures you. However, you're granted one last chance of salvation when you turn a corner and see that the tunnel stretches out into a long, straight, narrow path, giving your legs a chance to break into a full uninterrupted sprint. Towards the end you see an archway leading you into the heart of the tomb where a sarcophagus lies in the centre of the room; the very one Amon described as being a goldmine of treasuries. If you can just make it there…

You pick up speed at the moment the tunnel surrounding you begins to rumble, tremors setting your feet off course and pushing you off balance. Little stones and flecks of dust fall from above you and land in your eyes but you know you can’t afford to stop, knowing that that being is still behind you. Little did you know that you had set off a trap, stepping on a plate that triggers the corridor to collapse, no doubt a preventative measure to stop people like you from pilfering the tomb within. But you had been running so quickly, you barely even noticed. Perhaps if you keep running just as fast, you might be able to escape from being crushed to death…

The rumbling becomes so loud that it drowns out the footsteps from behind you and you put all of your remaining strength into sprinting as fast as you can, pumping blood and adrenaline to your legs as they carry you closer and closer to the tomb. Every step is paired with an exhausted pant, your own voice crying out with exhaustion and fear. You have to make it. You can do it.

You dive into the tomb just milliseconds before a large solid rock closes off the entrance, separating you and the being. 

All is silent in the tomb. The rumbling ceases and the footsteps are long forgotten. When a shred of sense returns to you, you take the dying light of the burning flare to the wooden torches dotted around the tomb, not only giving light to the room but giving light to the very, very fucked up realisation you’ve just had. Four solid walls surround you. 

There’s no relief to be had, because although you had just escaped being crushed to death, you now face death in a far more morbid way. There isn’t another way out. You’re beginning to think that you’ve made yet another mistake; being crushed would’ve been a quick and painless death. Now, with no other means of escape, you’ll be subjected to a long, agonising, painful torment, forever waiting for the moment that starvation, thirst, suffocation and time consumes you.

You didn’t just enter any tomb, you entered your own tomb. 

“Fuck!” You scream, falling to your knees, already bloody, bruised and scraped but the pain doesn’t translate when you’re deep in despair. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” The walls swallow your cries, accepting your defeat. 

If it wasn’t for the situation you find yourself in, you would be revelling in the numerous pieces of ancient artefacts around you, gushing over the rusted gold that shines on the mantles on the walls, laughing with hysteria about how your discovery had just made you a thousand times richer. But no, all you can think about is how claustrophobic you feel, how your lungs burn in your chest and how you will never see the light of day again. 

You spare a thought to your parents whom you had failed to keep in contact with. For the first few months you kept it to just once a week; a picture of your face with an unidentifiable background and a message telling them you were safe. They learned pretty quickly after your sudden disappearance that you weren’t going to answer any of their questions and soon accepted that your weekly message would have to suffice. It was all they needed to know; you were okay and you were safe. Despite the numerous ‘how’s, ‘where’s, ‘what’s, and ‘when’s, there was only ever one ‘why’. 

‘Why did you do it?’ 

Your parents knew exactly why you fled on the day the British Museum had reported a missing bronze figure alongside a grainy picture of your profile captioned ‘number one suspect’, but the one little detail that left them mentally spiralling over their own parenting techniques, wondering where they went so wrong was…why? 

Why did you do it? 

Why indeed. 

The pencil, the pencil case, the rucksack, the purse, the £1.50, watches, jewellery, everything you had ever snagged in your life, was it all worth it? Was this your karma? 

You aren’t sure how much time has passed before you have no more tears left to cry. Completely numb from crying you come to a stand, quickly arriving at the anger stage in the five stages of grief over your own inevitable death. You begin kicking the sarcophagus, knocking things off the mantles and punching anything your fist can connect with with reckless abandon that you don’t even care for how much your temper tantrum is costing you. Everything hurts but you just. Don’t. Care. 

Hours later, exhaustion begins to creep up on you just when the fire of the torches begins to flicker to nothing and before they completely die out, you take one last look around your tomb. You think it’s been more than four hours now which means Amon will be long gone. You are all alone.

Lying in the corner surrounded by the remains of your temper tantrum with all hope lost, you close your eyes. 

~~~~

“Tut tut tut.” A male voice murmurs, arousing you from your slumber. The room is dark when your eyes flicker open, so it’s impossible to miss those glowing white eyes standing at the far end of the room. Fuck. Not again. They startle you so much they jolt your body to full attention, your chest feeling heavy as if you had been defibrillated back to life. “What a waste.” The footsteps lurk around the sarcophagus, scuffing against the shards of the ceramic artefacts you smashed earlier. How he can see, you have no idea. Yet, you still feel the need to push yourself further back against the wall.

You take a shaky breath, mustering the courage to speak. “Please…” The eyes sway casually as the being walks nearer, standing over you cowering in the corner. Before either of you say another word, something drops at your feet. It’s your rucksack. 

“Open it,” he instructs smoothly, a hint of an American twang interlacing his words. “It’s much too dark in here, and I’d prefer to see the fear in your eyes when you get what you deserve.”

Keeping your eyes rooted to the being in front of you, deja vu runs coldly through your veins as your hand sneaks into your rucksack to find the flare. However unlike last time, you’d rather face him in the dark, not a single cell in your body wishes to greet the mummified adonis standing inches before you, threatening you. 

“Go on,” he encourages, eyes flitting to your bag. He knows you don’t want to. It’s pitiful how much you don’t want to. 

When the red glow illuminates there you see him, in fact it’s all you can see. The intimidating being you had only seen for a split second before in full display. His silhouette is so all-encompassing, the red glow doesn’t reach far past him. He’s wrapped neatly in white bandages with gold embellishments on his chest with a flowing cape cascading down his back, resembling warrior regalia. Shadows flicker behind the contours of his hood that hangs over his masked face, giving away no emotion. Everything about him is a mystery and you can’t help but feel vulnerable knowing he can see everything about you, reading the terror in your eyes as if it was written out for him. 

You pull your legs to your chest as he crouches down, levelling with you. 

“I usually don’t deal with petty thieves until they start messing with things that shouldn’t be messed with.”

“Who are you? How did you get in here?” 

He chuckles menacingly, tilting his head. “Looking for an escape? Don’t bother. You won’t be leaving here. At least not until I’m done with you.” 

“What…” Your voice scrapes against your dry throat. It’s been hours since you last had a drop of water. “What are you going to do to me?” 

He doesn’t immediately respond, but instead looks into his own reflection in the gold plating of an artefact you smashed, muttering a tense “not now, Steven.” Steven? What? 

He turns back to you. “The same thing I did to your partner on the surface.” Amon. Shit! 

“Is…is he dead?” 

“Almost. I left him with just enough of a heartbeat to keep him alive, enough to teach him a lesson I know he will learn. You - however - I have no hope for.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lie, “I was only exploring.” 

“Hmm, I highly doubt that - shut up Steven!” Your brows furrow with confusion, who the hell is Steven? Looking around, you can’t seem to see anyone else here in the room with you and this being. He doesn't give you a second to question his weird antics, coming very quickly to a stand with a grunt and pulling what looks like a gold, crescent shaped weapon from his chest and into his hand. “You’ve been thieving from the moment you knew you could. You know yourself you’re never going to change, so I’m here to put an end to it, to make sure you never get away with something like this again - dammit Steven, fine! But don’t let her get away. She’s mine.”

“What the fuck-” Before another word leaves your lips, the being morphs, or rather, his regalia does. The bandages unravel, withering away to reveal a white tux, donned by the same glowing eyes peering down at you. 

“Exploring, eh?”  

You’re taken aback by the minor change in his voice, his inflection. All Americanisms smoothly disappear and in place a British accent shapes his words. One that seems far too familiar for your liking…

“What…” 

“Gathering research for your school project?” He crouches down again, leaning closer and invading your space. “Or scouting the place out for a heist.” His tone isn't questioning anymore. They’re words of a statement, of a fact he knows is true. It’s really starting to shake your nerves. Something about all of this feels disconcerting. 

“Who the fuck are you?” 

“It’s a shame, really.” He stubbornly ignores your question, picking up a fractured piece of artefact. “This statue would’ve looked really nice on a living room mantle. Really would’ve spruced up the place.” 

Your heart stops and your breath catches in the back of your throat. The conversation throws you back into your memories, images of the British Museum flashes through your mind. The Egyptian exhibition. The bronze figure. The bumbling staff member who showed you it all. The name on his badge was…

“Steven.”

“Ah, so you do remember. See, you’re smarter than you look. That’s what fooled me all those years ago when you manipulated me into thinking you were just an innocent student looking to learn. You bloody well used me, didn’t you? Cost me my job.” 

“Look, Steven, I’m sorry, o-okay? I was young and stupid, I didn’t know-” 

“Young, yes. Stupid? No. You knew exactly what you were doing when you walked out with that figure. You knew exactly what you were doing when you stashed it in your bedroom walls. I looked everywhere for that statue, waiting for you to reveal where you hid it. And you fucking sold it!” So you weren’t seeing things that night. You know that feeling of being watched wasn’t just a figment of your imagination, it was Steven. “You knew what you were doing when you walked into this tomb. But I bet you don’t know whose tomb you walked into, or what ancient artefacts you recklessly broke. Still ‘willing to learn’? I hope so, ‘cos I think it’s fucking hilarious.” 

Steven comes to a stand and begins marching over to inspect the side of the sarcophagus. At that moment, the light of the flare illuminates the rest of the room and your eyes dart to the entrance where the stone that locked you in here no longer exists. How? Never mind. Survival first, question later. As ever, you take the opportunity and make a dash for the entrance, your legs a little lethargic from your lack of sustenance. 

Sadly, you only get so far. A broad arm wraps around your neck and pulls you flush against Steven’s body. “Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast.” His crushing strength borders dangerously between cutting off your oxygen but keeping you conscious enough to hear the words as he mutters them down your ear. “See this sarcophagus here? Do you know who it belongs to? 

“No!” You ball, kicking up a fight. You barely push him off-balance. “I don’t give a fuck, let me go!” 

“See this is why I find the irony of this hilarious. Go on, have a guess. I’m intrigued to see if you’re capable of learning a lesson.”

Steven man-handles you, gripping your jaw to fore to look at the large sarcophagus in front of you littered with inscriptions of a language you can’t translate and decorated with hieroglyphics you don’t understand. You get the feeling it’s something that Steven had already told you about during his ramblings at the museum. But he talked so much about shit you didn’t care for and you didn’t retain any information unless it had to do with its price. Fuck, whose sarcophagus is this? 

“I…I don’t know. Please, just let me go, I promise I won’t steal anymore.” You’re sobbing now, your tears rolling down your cheeks to be absorbed by Steven’s white suit. Frustrated, Steven tightens his hold on you.

“No, come on. Focus. I need to know that you didn’t just use me, I need to know I taught you something. Now what was it? I’ll give you a clue, it was one of the first things we talked about.”

Fuck. It was about some Ushabti thing, right? 

“The Ushabti?” 

“God, you butcher the pronunciation. But well done. The Ushabti of who?” 

You really can’t remember, and you feel it will be the death of you if you don’t. So overrun with hopelessness, you completely give in to defeat and fall weak in Steven’s arm. “I just want to go home.” 

“No, not the Ushabti of I-just-want-to-go-home. Who. Was. It?” 

Come on, think! Who was it? Da…Fa…Pa-something. Pa…Pa…

“I’m going to be reeaalllyyy disappointed if you don’t get this.” Steven’s harsh voice vibrates down your ear, his mask pressing firmly against the side of your ear. 

“Pa…”

“Yes?” 

“Pa-Di…” 

“Almost there, darlin’” 

Finally, the knowledge springs to life and the syllables roll off your tongue. “Pa-Di-Pep?” 

“See? You did know it, which means you’ll know what these inscriptions are on the side of this sarcophagus and on all the relics in this tomb, which means you know why I find this so funny.”

If you had the breath to sigh, you would. He’s right. You do know why. The scraps of information he fed you come whizzing back with a stab of irony. You understand it now. 

“Passages from the Book of the Dead, the intention of which was to secure safety for the deceased in the afterlife.” You relay his words back in your voice, Steven chuckling maniacally behind you.

“And you just broke them all. Bad luck, eh? No safe passage to the afterlife for you. My buddy Marc will make sure of it. If you haven’t already realised, I’m the brains of this body. Marc is the brawn. Never misses a kill that one. Do you, Marc?” 

Steven suddenly shuffles behind you, maintaining that iron steel grip he has around your throat. When the material of the mask traces the shell of your ear and his voice returns, his tone has changed. Deeper, lower, threatening. 

American. 

“Kind of you to say, Steven. Y’know, it’s a shame Steven isn’t kind enough to let you live. So, little thief, what’ll it be? Shall I kill you where you stand, or do you want to join Pa-Di-Pep in his sarcophagus?” 

[blueiscoool]

Sword with Markings of Ancient Pharaoh Ramses II Unearthed in Egypt

Archaeologists unearthed a series of mudbrick rooms filled with religious tributes, soldiers’ personal effects, engraved weaponry and animal bones.

Researchers have discovered a 3,200-year-old Egyptian fort filled with archaeological treasures. Located at the Tell Al-Abqain excavation site in northwest Egypt, the buried structure contained religious tributes, military barracks and a bronze sword inscribed with the name of the pharaoh Ramses II.

The fort was unearthed during ongoing excavations at Tell Al-Abqain. A team led by Ahmed El Kharadly, an archaeologist with Egypt’s Ministry of Tourism and Antiquities, found a series of mudbrick architectural units in the area, according to a statement from the ministry.

Those buildings, or barracks, contained a trove of artifacts, including the necessities and personal effects of the soldiers stationed there during Egypt’s New Kingdom era, a period of prosperity, territorial expansion and peace that lasted from around 1550 to 1077 B.C.E. The barracks show the military power Egypt expended to grow and defend its territory during this time.

“It is an important discovery highlighting the strategic role of Tell Al-Abqain area as a crucial military outpost on the western military road, protecting Egypt’s northwestern borders from potential invasions by Libyan tribes and sea peoples,” Mohamed Ismail Khaled, secretary-general of Egypt’s Supreme Council of Antiquities, tells Ahram Online’s Nevine El-Aref.

The barracks’ advanced architectural layout exemplifies the engineering talents of the ancient Egyptian builders, who skillfully harnessed the existing landscape for military objectives, Khaled adds.

At the site, researchers also found granaries, cow burials and pottery containing fish bones. In ancient Egypt, cows were “revered as celestial deities” and symbols of “strength, abundance and prosperity,” per the statement. However, these specific burials indicate that soldiers likely ate the cows: The bovine remains were found in an area near an oven, “which confirms that they were probably divided into parts and then stored in silos after drying,” El Kharadly tells Live Science’s Owen Jarus.

Along with evidence of soldiers’ daily provisions, researchers found accessories and toiletries, like ivory applicators for kohl eyeliner, necklaces of carnelian and faience beads shaped like pomegranate blossoms, and scarabs engraved with deities’ names, per the statement. The archaeologists also found two limestone blocks, one inscribed with the name of an official, “Bay,” and the other mentioning Ramses.

The pharaoh Ramses II, or Ramses the Great, ruled Egypt from 1279 to 1213 B.C.E., as the third king of the 19th Dynasty. Nicknamed the “builder pharaoh,” Ramses commissioned many temples during his reign, ensuring a lasting legacy. The newly discovered barracks also illustrate his sprawling influence.

One of the most intriguing discoveries was a bronze sword engraved with the cartouche of Ramses, or hieroglyphs arranged in an oval representing his name. Its presence suggests the fort was an important site during the pharaoh’s reign, per Ahram Online.

The barracks are an “important discovery” illuminating Egypt’s military strategy during Ramses’ rule, as Peter Brand, a historian at the University of Memphis who wasn’t involved in the excavation, tells Live Science.

“The weaponry demonstrates the place was well armed and may even have been able to produce some weapons on site,” Brand adds. The bronze sword was “likely given to a high-ranking officer as a royal reward. … The king’s name and titles engraved on it increased the prestige of its owner and ‘advertised’ the [king’s] wealth, power and generosity.”

By Sonja Anderson.

[artifacts-archive]

Double Crown Amulet

Egyptian, Ptolemaic Period (332–30 BCE)

Small-scale Egyptian figurines, known as amulets, were thought to promote health and good luck. Amulets were such an important part of Egyptian religious beliefs that they were worn by both the living and the dead. They could be mounted on rings or strung as bracelets or necklaces and were placed among the mummy wrappings to secure the deceased’s rebirth and well-being in the afterlife. Many varieties of amulets survive, including figures of deities, parts of the human (or divine) body, animals, plants, and objects of daily life. The crowns of Northern and Southern Egypt are shown atop a half basket which is the hieroglyph for “all” or “lord.” Therefore, this amulet may express the wish that the deceased, as a form of Osiris, rule over all Egypt.

[khaire-traveler]

Does anyone know what this necklace symbolizes?

On the back of it are some symbols that remind me of Egyptian hieroglyphs, but I'm not familiar enough with such things to know if that's true or what it means. On the front, it's in the shape of a scarab beetle which I'm aware is a sacred symbol to ancient Egyptians, if I remember correctly. Can anyone tell me what this means?

My mom found it on the ground during her walk, coincidentally as I sprayed some good luck spray on myself lol. I'm curious if this necklace had a positive meaning of not.

[dis-aster9255]

Hi hi hello this is gonna be both a mix of like actual character analysis and a few headcanons cause these characters haven't left my head for two months.

But yeah I'm gonna be applying the idea that Steven, Marc, and Jake are all autistic and it's not just Steven. (based on what I know and my own experiences) :D

(Warning: it's long.)

Steven:

Okay so Steven is the one with the most visible evidence because i believe he's the only one who doesn't try to mask

He either does not care what people think of him or straight up doesn't notice that he's acting differently than "normal"

When he's confused he'll just straight up ask like with Dylan ("are you asking me out??")

The hyperfixation/special interest in ancient egypt. He's learning ancient egyptian and hieroglyphics he's SERIOUS

He works at a museum specifically because of that as well

Taking literally any chance he can to talk about it even if the people he's talking to clearly don't care (ex. Donna)

He got so excited when Layla knew what he was talking about like come on

Also ROUTINE

Every evening he adds the tape on his door, replaces the sand, and puts the ankle restraint on before going to sleep

Ik that's supposed to be because of Marc but it's a routine and it's clearly always done the same every night.

Calls his mother every day even if she doesn't answer (we know why but :( )

Also the necklace. It's barely visible but it is there every day

The way he stands:

Need i say more? I don't but I will

Seriously though I'm pretty sure whenever he's fronting he's like never standing still

Either like this or messing with whatever is in his hands

The rubix cube. He can finish that thing without looking at this point its not a puzzle it's a fidget object.

Now for some not fun things

He gets overwhelmed at least twice in the show

Once after he finds out everything with his mom and once with Layla

The one with Layla I understand completely, stressful situation along with two people yelling at you is the worst thing and I know the exact feeling.

Either way both times he was constantly repeating the same word over and over again while basically folding in on himself to avoid whatever was happening around him.

On a lighter note Steven expresses his genuine excitement openly

He was dead but he was still so happy he finally was able to meet someone who knows what he's talking about in ep 5

Idk how to transiton to Marc but HERE WE GO

Marc:

Okay so while I was doing this I realized I related to Marc a lot damn

Anyways Marc masks the majority of the time

Like all the time I don't think he ever hasn't even around Layla

His voice is so monotone and the way he expresses the changes in emotion is by getting either louder or quieter instead of anything else

That entire scene with Mogart and the sarcophagus. There is not way he wasn't forcing every aspect of that interaction

Holding out his hand until Mogart finally shook it because "this is how normal interactions start right???"

When he's asked why he wants to see the sarcophagus he has no idea how to respond and gives the most non-answer ever. Everyone thinks it's weird but he doesn't notice, it worked so whatever

Episode 5

We all know Marc hides his emotions

It's obvious

But what if he's hiding them because they're too much for him to handle, or he just straight up doesn't understand them

He runs from problems cause he doesn't want to confront his feelings

He ran from Layla because the issue with Khonshu was too much to deal with instead of having one conversation about it

He ran from his mother's shiva cause it was too many conflicting emotions

And when Steven was reliving the worst memory of his life he ran again (idk if it's like actually canon or not but I believe that while Steven was going through the memory he could hear the whole thing echoing through the hallways)

He also seems like the type to not show emotion on his face unless it's a strong one, but that's just what I think I've not no actual evidence for this

Anyways like with Steven he also gets overwhelmed a few times in the series

And he does what not many people are willing to talk about and gets aggressive when that happens yayyyyy /lhj

Seriously though in the scene in ep 5 when he doesn't want to confront his mother's abuse again

Yelling and hitting himself repeatedly same man same

In ep 2 when Steven is yelling at him through the mirror he breaks it so he can get some silence and then gets tormented by Khonshu which rude, asshole

Aggression can seem like the easiest way to deal with things so I get it, it happened quite a few times in this show

ON A LIGHTER NOTE

He also gets hyperfixations he just doesn't exactly have the time to indulge himself

The movie

Idk how much we should trust therapist Harrow in certain things but he made a note to mention that Marc has watched that movie a LOT

He loved that movie as a kid

He doesn't have much of a routine besides putting everything back the way it was before Steven can wake up but I think he deserves one

Jake:

This is gonna be short he had four minutes of screen time and two of those minutes have not actually been confirmed

But yeah he seems like he'd also not care about masking

Though I think if he gets too overwhelmed (which would probably take a lot for it to happen) he'd just end up retreating

Or if it's just someone being annoying he'd deal with them himself (maybe just a good punch in the face no big deal right guys /hj)

Kinda a mix of what both Steven and Marc do it just depends on the situation

Also this is just a thought but I think he'd be the type to be constantly forcing expressions cause he does not have the energy to explain himself verbally

Like yeah he expresses things visually but he over exaggerates them to get the point across if that makes sense

Anyways that's all I have

Kinda went on a rant but I hope it makes sense

I'd be happy to hear anybody else's opinions as well :)

[definitelynotshouting]

helloooo friend :D !! tis i, bug anon

saw you weren't doing great from previous asks, hope whtever is happening gets better :(

my college searching thing is going a bit (?) better BUT i have major concerns about being discriminated about at the university my parents want me to go to which sucks :/

in other news, i accidentally told a customer "happy valentines gay! :)" and she was like "???? thanks ?" I WAS MORTIFIED DUDE

also! if you don't mind, could you tell me a bit abt your religion/who you worship? the only reason i would ask is bc i saw your prayer thing for jellie and had never heard of that god/goddess before (i believe she's from Egyptian mythology? idk) anyway if you dont feel like sharing, no worries :D

-🐛

HEY BUG ANON!!! :D thank u for the well-wishes, i really appreciate them a ton!! I hope the college searching goes better, it sounds real rough on your end :((( also AKSNAKDNKS HAPPY VALENTINES GAY....... THATS SO FUCKJNG FUNNY HELP MEEEE if someone said that to me while out and about i would be ecstatic truly KSNDWKNDKSNSJSNS

Sure, i can try and give a quick crash course in kemeticism if you're curious!! (As a general disclaimer to any OTHER kemetics who might see this, im gonna attempt to keep this very layman-friendly, so if i skip nuances in favour of simplifying stuff thats why. I'll leave some resources at the end of this post!)

Uhhh okay so kemetic paganism is a neopagan religion based off of ancient egyptian religious practices. There are a lot of different ways folks practice kemeticism-- such as reconstructionism (or recon; aka strict adherence to the rituals of antiquity), revivalism (adapting ancient rituals and practices into the modern era), and eclecticism (for the sake of simplicity, we'll say this is essentially taking several different practices from many other religions and combining them all into one personal practice). I fall somewhere between revivalism and eclecticism, mostly by virtue of also working with Hermes and Loki, though my practice is primarily kemetic in nature.

In short, i worship the ancient egyptian gods-- my patron, or a god whom i am particularly close with and mainly dedicated to, is the cat goddess Bast (also known as Bastet, although thats actually a mistranslation of her name). Bast is known by many epithets, but one translation of her name is "Lady of the Ointments"; its written with the hieroglyphs for a bas-jar (aka a perfume/ointment jar) and a loaf of bread (the "t" sound). She's a solar goddess associated with protection, is an Iryt Ra (Eye of Ra; Goddesses who protect and nurture the sun god Ra), and like many (and i do mean many) other kemetic gods, also holds ties to fertility. In the past she was depicted as a lioness, then later became associated with the domestic housecat, where she picked up additional ties to motherhood; she also began picking up attributes from close association with Het-hert (Hathor), which resulted in further associations with music, dancing, and the arts. She's often depicted holding an aegis (a collar-like necklace with a deity's head on it) and a sistrum (a musical rattle).

She's a very fierce but loving goddess whom i have been worshipping for the last 11 years :] i also work with other kemetic deities-- of my "personal quintet," as i like to joke, i work with Djehuty (Thoth), Sekhmet, and occasionally Sutekh (Set/Seth) and Heru-wer (Horus the Elder). And, ofc, from outside the kemetic pantheon i work with Hermes and Loki, who happens to be my other patron!!

Im very glad that my formal petition to Bast for Jellie has brought those who have seen it some much-needed comfort, and its nice that its also made some people curious about kemeticism!! If youve got any specific questions, feel free to drop me a line off anon or in dms! :] im always happy to chat!!

Some further reading if you're interested:

Per-Bast (a website dedicated to Bast that holds very good information and resources)

Kemetic Starter Guide

Kemetic FAQ

[apollotarot]

15 Essential Deities in Egyptian Mythology

Ancient Egyptian mythology is one of human history’s oldest and most fascinating belief systems. With a pantheon of gods and goddesses representing various aspects of life and the universe, the Egyptians created a rich and complex mythology that continues to captivate people today.

Here are some of the most significant Egyptian deities and what they represent:

Isis: Known as the “mother goddess,” Isis was associated with motherhood, fertility, and magic. She was also revered as the goddess of nature and healing.

Ma’at: As the goddess of truth, justice, and balance, Ma’at was an important figure in Egyptian mythology. She was responsible for maintaining the universe’s balance and upholding the laws of morality and ethics.

Ptah: Ptah was the god of craftsmen and creation, responsible for creating the universe and all living beings. He was also considered a protector of artists and artisans.

Osiris: One of the most important gods in Egyptian mythology, Osiris was the god of the underworld, fertility, and resurrection. He was believed to have been the first pharaoh and was responsible for teaching humanity about agriculture and civilization.

Seth: As the god of chaos and the desert, Seth was powerful and often feared figure in Egyptian mythology. He was also associated with storms, war, and violence.

Bastet: Known as the goddess of cats, Bastet was also associated with fertility, music, and dance. She was believed to protect homes and families from evil spirits and was often depicted with the head of a cat.

Thoth: Thoth was the god of wisdom, writing, and knowledge. He was responsible for inventing hieroglyphs and was believed to have written influential religious texts, like the Emerald Tablet.

Horus: As the god of the sky and kingship, Horus was an important figure in Egyptian mythology. He was believed to be the son of Osiris and Isis and was associated with the pharaohs of Egypt.

Sekhmet: Known as the goddess of war and healing, Sekhmet was often depicted as a lioness. She was believed to have the power to create and destroy and was called upon for protection during times of war.

Amun: Amun was the gods’ king and was associated with the sun and air. He was often depicted with a ram’s head and considered one of the Egyptian pantheon’s most potent and influential gods.

Ra: As the god of the sun and creation, Ra was a central figure in Egyptian mythology. He was believed to have created the world and was associated with the pharaohs of Egypt.

Hathor: Hathor was the goddess of love, beauty, and joy. She was associated with motherhood and fertility and was often depicted as a cow.

Nut: As the goddess of the sky, Nut was often depicted as a woman arching over the earth with her hands and feet touching the ground. She held up the stars and was considered a protector of the dead.

Geb: Geb was the god of the earth and was responsible for giving life to plants and animals. He was often depicted as a man lying on his back, with his wife Nut arched over him.

Khnum: Khnum was the god of creation and was associated with the Nile River. He was often depicted as a man with the head of a ram and was responsible for shaping humans out of clay.

Ancient Egyptian mythology features numerous intriguing deities, each symbolizing different life and universe elements. Even now, their tales remain captivating to many.

Keep exploring: 15 Essential Deities in Egyptian Mythology.

As you explore the world of Egyptian mythology, you may find yourself drawn to a particular deity and feel a connection to their power and energy. If that is the case, consider wearing a symbolic necklace as a reminder of its significance in your life.

A beautifully crafted necklace featuring an Egyptian deity can be a meaningful accessory that adds a touch of mystique to any outfit.

Wear a piece of Egyptian mythology with you wherever you go!

[drsilverfish]

Taking a Closer Look at 1x06 Art of Dying as Dean’s Subconscious (The Winchesters)

This episode feels like a really significant one, so I went and had a re-watch, this time specifically to take a closer look at the set-dressing (hello set-dressing narrative, my old friend).

There’s so much in there which speaks to Narrator-Dean’s subconscious and (significantly, given the episode’s title) to Dean’s own death.

The barn (a barn was, of course, the mise-en-scène of Dean’s death):

The shots of skulls (twice - one in Losy’s van, and the other in the background as Carlos sews up John’s shoulder):

The Soucouyant is a type of vampire, just like the vampires were the monsters at the scene of Dean’s death. But the Soucouyant-vampire here itself is (double?) dead. It’s only animated because it is being possessed by Mac’s vengeful spirit (layers and layers of correspondences and death and spirit symbolism). 

The claw of the Soucouyant and the bloody wound this double-dead vampire makes in John’s shoulder recall (in the way in which, in dreams, objects symbolise other objects) the cursed rebar at the scene of Dean’s own death:

Then there’s the beautiful, slow sequence of Darla’s hunter’s funeral with Judy Collin’s “Joan of Arc” (1971) (written by Leonard Cohen) playing in the background. We don’t know Darla, but the funeral is given great emotional depth. Her body is prepared, and she is wrapped in white and tied with yellow cord. The scene is shot in golden light, with long lingering sorrow. And the song, about Joan of Arc’s death, is couched in the metaphor of a marriage:

"Then fire, make your body cold, I'm going to give you mine to hold," saying this she climbed inside to be his one, to be his only bride. And deep into his fiery heart he took the dust of Joan of Arc, and high above the wedding guests he hung the ashes of her wedding dress.“

And what has Narrator-Dean already explicitly told us? He’s picking the music. 

This funeral really recalls the funeral for Castiel in SPN 13x01 Lost and Found - the way Dean prepared Castiel’s body, wrapping it in white and tying it with the torn yellow curtains. In his heart, it was a funeral for his husband; that’s what The Winchesters’ Narrator-Dean’s song choice here suggests (as if we didn’t already know, Dean):

And oh look, there is a freaking (Soucouyant) hand-print on the barn door to the right of Tracy!

Which of course recalls the significance of Castiel’s own death hand-print on Dean in SPN 15x18 Despair:

And in this episode, Losy is wearing a necklace that says “Love” in 1960s lettering (recalling Cas’ dying “I love you” confession to Dean). But (hello wish-fulfillment for Dean’s subconscious) Carlos manages to get a date with his crush, Anton, (not a funeral):

And is that a statue of Michael and Lucifer locked in combat on the left there by the window?!?! Why, yes, yes it is, Dean’s subconscious:

There’s an Ankh symbol on the chest behind John in the post-possession talk he has with Mary. The Ankh is the Egyptian hieroglyph known as the “key of life” which had enormous significance for the passage of the soul after death to eternal afterlife:

There is also a triquetra symbol in Tracy’s house. The triquetra is a Celtic symbol which is sometimes understood to symbolise the cycle of birth, death and rebirth:

These symbols of life after death, and of life, death and rebirth, fit with my earlier 1x06 meta musing on Narrator-Dean as being in the liminal state between dying and rebirth (known as the Bardo in Tibetan Buddhism).  

All of which is to say, that one way we can read The Winchesters is as a dream-like sequence where God-Narrator Dean re-mixes things of deep emotional significance to him. And this episode, read that way, seems to be a re-mix in particular of the scene of Dean’s own death in 15x20, and his painful experiences of Castiel’s deaths in 13x01 and 15x18.

NB: This reading does not promise a Dean/ Cas reunion - this level of The Winchesters’ narrative is subtextual (no surprises there - hello subtext my old friend) and will probably remain there.  

But isn’t it heartbreaking and beautiful?

[unhonest-iago]

Incorrect History; Crystals

Everything that you’ve ever known about crystals is wrong. The simple yet elegant rocks that ties us mere mortals to the world’s fertile soil. You’ve probably searched up many times which stone correlates to when you were born. Aries’ pressurized diamonds to Pisces’ aquamarine.  One used for stress relief, the other stimulating creativity. Looking at them, you wouldn’t think about the many wars and political conflicts they’ve played a role in. Thus I believe it’s time we stepped back and got an even clearer reflection of crystals. That is if you pray to not lose your coveted gems. 

The intro reel plays, the text on screen reading ‘Factually True and Real History with Ted Nivison.’ A few images cascade behind the text, one being of the painting Girl with a Pearl Earring, while it gradually scales in size. Now you see Ted standing in front of a grassy knoll, you can assume it’s a green screen as it looks akin to Microsoft’s home screen.

Most would believe that the first big boom for crystals was New Age mysticism that arose in the 1980s but in actuality, they’ve been around since Ancient Egyptian. A ‘mini me’ form of Ted standing in the original’s hand. This revelation came with the discovery of clay tablets with magic formulas inscribed in hieroglyphics. Because this might come as a surprise to most of you, they did not have Staples.  A picture of Staples green-screened, the smaller Ted becoming aware of larger Ted. That kinda blew my mind when I found out. What the fuck? The mini Ted disappeared now. The Parthenos now set behind them.

Most of what we know regarding crystals comes from the Ancient Greeks. The word crystal derives from the word cryo. Before battle, Greek soldiers would rub hematite on themselves. Oxidation gives the crystal it’s pristine rusted color, closely associating it with Ares, their god of war. One such battle being the Trojan war, historians claim it was over the prized Helen of Troy but this is incorrect. Paris of Troy stealing her from her husband, Sparta’s king. A clip of the film 300’s protagonist yelling Sparta appears on screen. Rather it was what Helen possessed, a coveted amethyst necklace. The war itself almost destroyed the economy, allowing for the Romans to easily take over the omega filled population destitute of alphas. And the amethyst necklace unfortunately lost to time. 

Now let’s talk about the Victorians. A flash of puffy powdered wigs appearing on screen, different pieces of clothing; petticoats, feathered hats, waistcoat pockets holding watches. In 1829, Sir Boris Peel established London’s Metropolitan police force. They quickly garnered a corrupt reputation, referred to as spokes, cracking down on jewelry related robberies. Opals, rubies, & pearls most sought after. Women took to sewing them into their clothes, secret pockets when women’s clothing still had them. Further incorporating them into spring bonnets men on the hands of their watches. As tradition, peer pressure from the deceased goes, this is where aristocratic families willing beloved heirlooms to their descendants originated. As they later traveled to the adventurous new-beginnings of the Colonies, so did these possessions.

The east coast having settled, needing more room to stretch their legs, these ambitious settlers journeyed out west finding specks of gold in the Rocky mountains. They kept part of their finds separate, off the record. Only setting up shop after the glorious centers of attention turned to dust, haunted by their lustrous ghosts. Developing the tricks of the trade, mentoring others under their careful thumb. Hitting the 1980s, with the New Age movement, those jewels repurposed into anchors of healing as we entered the Age of Aquarius. Ted looks to the hourglass sitting on their mantle, the sand at the top now all at the bottom. Ah, it looks like we’re out of time. Thank you so much for joining me on this episode of Factually True History. I’m your host, Ted Nivison. Thanks for watching…or reading. It cuts to them waving, as the camera pans outward, the same intro playing, repeating as the outro. 

[satashiiwrites]

Death, Rebirth and the Jackal for the WIP game! I am intrigued

So, this fic is partially posted but got put on the back burner because I made too many commitments for the back half of 2023 on the writing front. The base fandom/characters is Mass Effect Andromeda but it’s very AU and not quite a fusion of The Mummy (1999 Brendan Fraser movie) but has huge influences from Moon Knight, Egyptian Mythology and probably every other piece of media I’ve ever consumed about Egyptian archeology in the 1800s/early 1900s. Mixed with were-creatures. Kinda.

Some liberties have been taken. I don’t usually do straight-up scene for scene fusions unless i’m writing crack!fic.

My muse had been long chewing on another one shot I wrote (A Soul’s Weight) that invoked Reyes as his fanon callsign: Anubis where I may or may not have borrowed Egyptian myth and not put it back where it belongs in the same condition in which it was borrowed.

Here’s a bit that hasn’t been posted to AO3. It’s two snippets from Alec’s POV that is a flashback that gives some backstory as he’s dead in the present day of the fic. (I’m great at fridging Alec in my fics I’ve just realized and I regret it not at all).

From: Death, Rebirth and the Jackal, unknown chapter

Fandom: The root character source is Mass Effect Andromeda. Recognizable elements from the Mummy trilogy, borrowed some Moon Knight and other things as well.

Tags/warnings: first draft. Flashback. Ryder family feels.

They’d made good progress today.  The finds had not been too significant but it felt like they were getting closer to something significant—he could just feel something was coming. Their permit was good for the whole year so they had time to be methodical with their dig and focus on accuracy and scholarship rather than being simple grave robbers like those that had come before them.  

It made Alec’s blood boil to think that most of the tombs had been almost fully cleared out by the time of Plutarch and turned into tourist attractions.  So much lost but he knew there had to still be significant discoveries hidden underneath dirt, sand and rock. They only had to carefully dig to discover them. Ellen was even more hopeful than him, having found parts of a broken beaded necklace just last week. 

They hadn’t found a new tomb yet but he knew they would.  All that talk of the last tombs having been located was false.  His skin itched, he knew the dead still slept in these hills—he just had to find them. 

Rubbing his face tiredly as he approached the tents that his small family was currently living in, he found his daughter sitting quietly with a book.  Sara’s small little face was screwed up in concentration as she studied her hieroglyphics book, a pencil stuck between her lips making her front teeth stick out just a bit as she had yet to grow into them. 

Smiling, he placed a kiss to the top of her fine hair that somehow had gotten sand in it even though it had been carefully braided into a crown atop her small head. He ran his hand  down her back, encouraging her to curl into his side in a hug.  “How goes the studying?” He asked as they sat together curled up on the overlapping rugs used as carpeting and reaching for the small container of dates that their nanny Nailah had thoughtfully left for her young charge to snack on as she studied. “Where’s Nailah and your brother?” 

“Scott went outside when he finished,” Sara admitted with a little huff.  “He’s much faster than me.”

Laughing at his daughter’s grumpiness, Alec let her cuddle deep into his side.  Sara was good with hieroglyphics but it was his son Scott who seemed to just effortlessly read and write in the ancient script like he’d been born to it.  Sara was more studious and dedicated while Scott had the natural aptitude yet no drive to learn like his sister which was a shame.   

“Where outside?  Nailah too?”

“She went looking for him a bit ago,” Sara sighed with all the weight of the world on her thin little nine-year-old shoulders. “He said he wanted to go play with Jabari.”

“Jabari?” Alec inwardly groaned.  Jabari was the son of one of the head porters that had been hired without his say so.  The man was only middling at his job and his son had a penchant for trouble that he often pulled Scott in by association. 

<<scene break>>d

He held out his own wrists, offering them to her.  “And mine?”

The pity in her eyes was answer enough. 

“I’m too late aren’t I?”

She nodded her head slowly, her hands coming to grasp the outside of his and thumbs resting over the pulse point and rubbing the drying blood into his skin.  “If you had been brought to us as a child…”

Alec looked away from her toward his son who slept fitfully, wrists bleeding still from the marks that had been cut into them.  For Scott it had to work. His son couldn’t bear this curse. the call of the desert was too strong of an influence. The need to run and howl, to be only half a man.  The thought of Scott being burdened like he was… he would do anything to prevent that. 

God forgive him for what he had done to his own son. 

“But for him?”

Her head bowed, gaze serious as they landed on the mop of chestnut hair arrayed like a halo around his son. “The binding will hold…”

“But for how long? He’ll live a normal life?” He pleads, desperate. 

Her lips press together firmly, but she doesn’t answer him. 

[blueiscoool]

3,500-Year-Old Gold Jewelry Found in Egyptian 18th Dynasty Tomb

The jewelry collection was discovered by a team of Egyptian and English archaeologists.

A collection of ornate gold jewelry dating back to 3,500 years ago was recently discovered at the Tell El-Amarna necropolis, along the eastern bank of the Nile River in Egypt.

The necropolis, located in modern-day Minya, was a burial ground for the city of Amarna, or Akhetaten, and was constructed in 1346 BCE to serve as the capital city of the Pharaoh Akhenaten, the 10th ruler of the late Eighteenth Dynasty.

The jewelry collection was discovered by a team of Egyptian and English archaeologists who were working on excavations at the Amarna North Desert Cemetery when they unearthed the burial site of a young adult female.

The woman had been wrapped in textile and plant-fiber matting and buried wearing a necklace with petal-shaped pendants as well as three rings made from gold and soapstone.

The image of the ancient Egyptian deity Bes, who was worshipped as a protector of mothers, children and childbirth, is engraved on one of the three rings.

The other two rings are inscribed with a phrase in hieroglyphics that translates into “lady of the two lands,” presumably referring to Egypt’s lower and upper kingdoms.

The young woman was buried among a small number of other burial shafts, pit graves and tombs, all of which date back to 1550-1292 BCE, during the Eighteenth Dynasty.

Although the Akhenaten initially followed traditional Ancient Egyptian polytheistic religion, he later created his own religion, called Atenism, which centered around the worship of the sun god Aten.

Construction on the city was started around the fifth year of his reign (1346 BCE)  and is thought to have been completed by the ninth (1341 BCE), although it only became the capital city two years after completion.

The city was abandoned soon after the pharoah's death when his son, King Tutankhamun decided to leave it behind in favor of his birthplace in Thebes.

As a result, the city and its internal plans were largely preserved, as once it had been abandoned it remained uninhabited until Roman settlement in the area. Today, the ruins of the city include grand temples, palaces and tombs.

According to Ahram Online, the ancient city continues to transform our understanding of how human society has developed, due to its status as one of the world's preeminent archaeological sites for understanding how people lived in the pre-Classical world.

[artifacts-archive]

Amulet of an Ankh

Egyptian, Third Intermediate Period–Late Period (1070–332 BCE)

Small-scale Egyptian figurines, known as amulets, were thought to promote health and good luck. Amulets were such an important part of Egyptian religious beliefs that they were worn by both the living and the dead. They could be mounted on rings or strung as bracelets or necklaces and were placed among the mummy wrappings to secure the deceased’s rebirth and well-being in the afterlife. Many varieties of amulets survive, including figures of deities, parts of the human (or divine) body, animals, plants, and objects of daily life. The ankh symbol, which represents a sandal strap, was the hieroglyph for “life.” It is among the most common amulets because of the Egyptians’ desire for eternal life after death.