#i mean i did have a god complex but that was when I was nine years old

[the-oblivious-writer]

Let the Light In |9|

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Chapter Nine: Struck by Cupid's Knife

Summary: After working up the courage, Tara asks you to spend Cupid’s birthday with her, but neither of you could have predicted the results.

Warning(s): Swearing (I think), arguing, Tara wearing The Skirt™️, innuendos, miscommunication/shit communication and mentions of masochism.

Notes: Reader’s a thirsty son of a bitch.

Masterlist|Previous Part|Next Part

You're sprawled on Tara's couch, one hand absently scratching behind Dookie's ears while the other reaches for your water. The cat purrs contentedly in your lap, a rare sight according to literally everyone who's ever met the notoriously selective feline. On screen, Leatherface is doing what Leatherface does best – terrorizing unsuspecting teenagers with questionable decision-making skills.

"You know," you muse, "for someone who claims to hate slashers, you sure own a lot of them."

Tara throws chips at your head. It misses spectacularly and lands on Dookie, who gives her the most withering look a cat can muster. "I never said I hate slashers. I said modern slashers lack the psychological complexity of—"

"—of 'Prom Night,' yes, we've all heard the dissertation," you interrupt, earning yourself another chip projectile. This one actually hits its mark. "Which, by the way, is absolutely not better than 'Sleepaway Camp.'"

"Oh my god, are you seriously starting this again?" Tara pauses the movie, turning to face you fully. "Angela Baker is iconic, sure, but—"

"But nothing! The psychological implications alone—"

"The psychological implications of a movie that ends with—"

You both start talking over each other, your voices rising with practiced familiarity of an argument you've had dozens of times before. Dookie lifts his head to watch the verbal tennis match, tail twitching with mild interest.

"Okay, okay," Tara finally concedes, though her tone suggests this is far from over. "We can agree to disagree. For now. But only because I'm starving and we still haven't decided on dinner."

"Indian?" you suggest innocently, already knowing the response you'll get.

Her eyes narrow. "You know damn well what happened last time."

"You mean when you insisted you could handle the spice level and then spent three hours complaining about heartburn?"

"I did not complain for three hours."

"You literally texted me at 3 AM to tell me your esophagus was staging a coup."

She throws her hands up in exasperation. "Fine! What's your brilliant suggestion then?"

You pretend to think about it, even though you both know exactly where this is heading. "Well, there's this place I know. Makes great burgers, killer onion rings, milkshakes that'll change your life…"

"You mean the same place we always go?"

"If it ain't broke, princess."

The nickname slips out before you can catch it, an old habit you can't seem to shake. Tara's expression does something complicated – a mix of annoyance, fondness, and something else you're not quite ready to analyze.

"Speaking of things that aren't broken," she starts, then stops, fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. "There's this Valentine's party next week…"

You focus very intently on Dookie's fur, suddenly finding the pattern fascinating. "Oh yeah? Sounds fun."

"Yeah, it's at Chad's place. You could… I mean, if you wanted…" She trails off, then quickly adds, "But you probably have plans."

"Actually," you say, still not looking up, "I was just gonna stay in. The new season of 'Yellowjackets' dropped and—"

"Oh." There's something in her voice that makes you finally look up. "That… that sounds good too."

A moment passes, filled only by the sound of Dookie's purring and the paused image of Leatherface on the TV.

"You could join," you offer, the words tumbling out before you can overthink them. "If you wanted. Instead of the party."

Tara's face brightens for a split second before she schools it into careful neutrality. "What happened to your sacred solo binge-watching ritual?"

"Well, Dookie's already broken that rule," you gesture to the cat who's now fully asleep in your lap. "Besides, someone needs to be there to judge my commentary."

"Your commentary definitely needs supervision," she agrees, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "But what about Chad's party? You sure you don't want to…" she waves her hand vaguely.

You raise an eyebrow. "Want to what?"

"Nothing," she says quickly. "Just… you know. Meet people. Or whatever."

"Careful, Carpenter. That almost sounded like jealousy."

"You wish," she scoffs, but there's a faint blush creeping up her neck. "I just don't want you blaming me when you miss out on finding your soulmate at a frat party."

"Right, because nothing says true love like keg stands and questionable punch."

She throws more chips at you, but she's smiling now. "Shut up and watch the movie, dork."

You press play, and Leatherface resumes his rampage. But you can't help noticing how Tara seems more relaxed now, how she's shifted slightly closer on the couch. Dookie stretches in your lap, completely unbothered by the chainsaw sounds from the TV, and you think maybe this is exactly where you're supposed to be.

Even if Tara is completely wrong about "Prom Night.

—

Valentine's Day arrives with all the subtlety of a horror movie jump scare. You're pacing your apartment, pretending you haven't spent the last hour deciding what to wear for what's supposedly just another movie night. Dookie, who somehow managed to sneak into your place during Tara's last visit and never left, watches you with judgmental eyes from his perch on your bookshelf.

"Don't give me that look," you mutter, adjusting your shirt for the hundredth time. "This is completely normal behavior."

Dookie blinks slowly, unconvinced.

Your phone buzzes with a text, and you definitely don't lunge for it like a teenager waiting for their crush to call.

Tara (6:45 PM): omw Tara (6:45 PM): with snacks Tara (6:46 PM): and NO you cannot veto my candy choices this time

You smile despite yourself, typing back a quick response.

Dork (6:46 PM): If you brought those weird swedish fish again, we're going to have words

When the knock finally comes, you open the door to find Tara wearing a skirt that makes your brain short-circuit. It's not even particularly revealing – just a simple black pleated number that hits just above her knees – but something about the way it moves when she walks past you makes your mouth go dry.

"Earth to Y/N," Tara waves a hand in front of your face. "You gonna let me in or just stand there having a stroke?"

You snap out of it, closing the door perhaps a bit too quickly. "Sorry, just… wondering if I should be concerned about what's in that suspiciously large grocery bag."

"Liar," she smirks, dropping said bag on your coffee table. "But I'll let it slide because I'm feeling generous."

Meanwhile, in a group chat you're blissfully unaware of:

CORE 4 & CO.

Mindy: TARA CARPENTER Mindy: YOU DID NOT JUST LEAVE THE HOUSE IN THAT SKIRT Mindy: TO GO WATCH TV Mindy: WITH YOUR “NEMESIS”

Sammy: Let her live, Mindy

Chad: anyone else find it sus that they're both skipping the party? 👀

Mindy: "skipping the party to watch yellowjackets" sure jan

Tara: i can see these messages you know

Mindy: EXACTLY Mindy: WE KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING

Chad: yeah wearing The Skirt™️

Tara: it's just a skirt omg Tara: and don't you all have better things to do??

Mindy: than watch you attempt to seduce your nemesis? Mindy: absolutely not

Sammy: I'm turning off notifications Sammy: have fun sis Sammy: and remember to text me if you end up staying the night

Tara: SAM

Back in your apartment, you're trying very hard to focus on setting up the TV and not on how Tara's legs look when she's curled up on your couch. It's just a skirt. You've seen skirts before. This should not be affecting you like this.

"You know," Tara's voice breaks through your internal crisis, "for someone who was so excited about this show, you're spending a lot of time staring at everything but the screen."

"I'm not—" you start to protest, but she cuts you off with a knowing look.

"The remote's upside down."

You look down. The remote is, indeed, upside down in your hands. "I'm trying a new technique," you deadpan, refusing to acknowledge the heat creeping up your neck.

"Uh-huh." She shifts on the couch, the movement causing her skirt to—nope, you're not looking. You're absolutely not looking. "You know, we could still go to Chad's party if you're having second thoughts."

There's something in her tone – a careful casualness that doesn't quite mask the uncertainty underneath. You finally look at her properly, taking in the way she's trying to appear nonchalant while picking at a loose thread on your couch cushion.

"And miss the chance to prove how superior 'Sleepaway Camp' is to your precious 'Prom Night'? Not a chance, Carpenter."

The relief that flashes across her face is brief but unmistakable. "Oh my god, you're still on that? You know what, just for that, I'm eating all the good candy."

"Bold of you to assume any of your candy choices qualify as 'good.'"

She throws a Swedish Fish at your head. You catch it with your mouth, surprising both of you.

"…Okay, that was actually impressive," she admits.

"I have hidden depths," you say solemnly, finally settling onto the couch beside her. "Now shut up and watch the show. I have theories about Lottie that will blow your mind."

As the opening credits roll, you're hyper-aware of every inch of space between you, of how her skirt brushes against your leg when she reaches for the snacks, of how this feels simultaneously like nothing and everything has changed.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket – probably Henry asking how your "not-date" is going – but you ignore it. Right now, all that matters is this moment: Tara's commentary about the show's color grading, the way she unconsciously leans into you during the tenser scenes, and how maybe, just maybe, this is exactly where you both want to be.

The thing about watching TV with Tara Carpenter is that she can't sit still to save her life. She's constantly shifting, readjusting, finding new ways to accidentally-but-maybe-not-accidentally end up closer to you. It's maddening in the best possible way.

"That's not how decomposition works," she critiques, reaching across you for the popcorn. Her skirt rides up slightly with the movement, and you suddenly find the ceiling fascinating. "The timeline is completely unrealistic."

"Sorry, I didn't realize I was sitting next to a forensics expert," you quip, trying to ignore how she hasn't fully moved back to her original position. "Please, enlighten us with your extensive knowledge of body disposal."

She turns to face you, and you immediately regret your life choices because now she's even closer, her eyes sparkling with that dangerous mix of challenge and amusement that always spells trouble.

"Well, considering the ambient temperature and soil composition—"

"Is this the part where I should be concerned about your search history?"

"Please," she scoffs, but there's a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Like yours is any better, Miss 'I-need-to-research-medieval-torture-devices-for-academic-purposes.'"

"That was one time!"

"The FBI agent watching your browser history probably needs therapy."

You're about to retort when she shifts again, and suddenly her leg is pressed against yours. All coherent thoughts evacuate your brain without so much as a goodbye note.

"You okay there?" she asks, and there's something in her tone that suggests she knows exactly what she's doing. "You seem a little… distracted."

Two can play at this game.

"Just thinking about proper body disposal techniques," you say innocently, stretching your arm across the back of the couch. Not quite around her shoulders, but the implication is there. "You know, for academic purposes."

She raises an eyebrow. "Is that your way of threatening to murder me? Because I've got to say, your technique needs work."

"If I was going to murder you, Carpenter, you'd never see it coming."

"Promises, promises."

The air between you crackles with something that definitely isn't just friendly banter anymore. On screen, someone is probably being dramatically eviscerated, but you couldn't care less because Tara is looking at you with that half-smile that makes your stomach do Olympic-level gymnastics.

Your phone buzzes again, breaking the moment. This time, it's a series of texts from Henry:

Henry (8:15 PM): so how's the not-date going?? Henry (8:15 PM): has anyone been murdered yet Henry (8:16 PM): either literally or metaphorically Henry (8:16 PM): also tony says hi and wants to know if you've kissed her yet

"Something important?" Tara asks, and you quickly lock your phone before she can see the messages.

"Just Henry being Henry," you say, silently plotting your best friend's demise. "Probably asking if we've murdered each other yet."

"Night's still young," she shrugs, but she's still got that look in her eyes that makes you want to either kiss her or start an argument about horror movie tropes. Possibly both.

"Speaking of murder," you say instead, because you're a master of deflection, "want to hear my theory about why 'Sleepaway Camp' is actually a groundbreaking commentary on—"

She groans, throwing her head back dramatically. "Oh my god, you're actually the worst."

"That's not what you said when I brought you soup when you caught the flu."

"That was before I knew you'd use it as ammunition in your endless crusade against good taste in movies."

"Bold words from someone wearing a skirt that's clearly meant to be a distraction from your terrible opinions."

The words are out before your brain can stop them. Tara goes very still, and for a moment you think you've miscalculated spectacularly. But then she looks at you with an expression that's somewhere between amusement and challenge.

"Is it working?"

Your mouth goes dry. "What?"

"The distraction," she says, and you swear she moves even closer. "Is it working?"

You're saved from having to answer by Dookie, who chooses this exact moment to jump between you, apparently deciding he's been ignored for far too long. The cat gives you both a look that clearly says "I've had enough of your nonsense."

"Traitor," you mutter to the cat, who responds by making himself comfortable across both your laps, effectively creating a furry barrier between you and Tara.

Tara laughs, scratching behind Dookie's ears. "My hero," she coos to the cat. "Saving me from another lecture about Angela Baker's psychological complexity."

"You're both against me," you declare dramatically. "I'm being ganged up on in my own home."

"Cry about it," she suggests sweetly, but she's leaning against your shoulder now, and Dookie is purring, and maybe being ganged up on isn't the worst thing in the world.

—

"I cannot believe you're still defending this," you say, watching in horror as Tara drowns her mac and cheese in a truly concerning amount of hot sauce. "This is actually painful to witness."

"You're being dramatic," she retorts, adding what appears to be her entire body weight in ketchup to the already crime-scene-worthy pasta. "Some of us actually like flavor."

"Flavor? That's—" you're interrupted by the doorbell, which is probably for the best because you were about to launch into a dissertation about the difference between flavor and masochism.

"I'll get it," Tara says, but you're already standing up.

"Absolutely not. I've seen enough horror movies to know the cute girl who answers the door always dies first."

The word 'cute' slips out before you can catch it, and you practically sprint to the door to avoid seeing her reaction. This proves to be a tactical error when you open it to find possibly the most conventionally attractive pizza delivery guy you've ever seen, complete with the kind of jawline that belongs on a CW show.

"Hey," he says, then looks past you to where Tara has appeared behind your shoulder. His entire demeanor shifts, voice dropping an octave. "Hey."

You resist the urge to close the door in his face.

"That'll be twenty-four fifty," he says to Tara, completely ignoring your existence. "Though I could make it free if you'd let me take you out sometime."

Something hot and uncomfortable coils in your stomach. You reach for your wallet, but Tara beats you to it, pulling out cash from her pocket.

"Here's thirty," she says, a slight flush creeping up her neck. "Keep the change."

"You sure I can't convince you?" He flashes a smile that probably works wonders at frat parties. "I make a mean pasta. No ketchup required."

Your head snaps up at that. He must have overheard your earlier conversation, which means he's been standing here long enough to eavesdrop, which means—

"She likes her pasta exactly how she likes it," you say, perhaps a bit sharper than necessary, taking the pizza from his hands. "Thanks for the delivery."

You close the door before he can respond, turning to find Tara looking at you with an expression that makes your heart do something complicated in your chest. The flush on her neck has spread to her cheeks.

"So," she says, voice carefully neutral but eyes dancing with something that looks suspiciously like amusement. "No ketchup required, huh?"

"Don't start," you mutter, carrying the pizza to the kitchen. "And don't even think about putting hot sauce on this. I saw you wincing earlier from your mac and cheese."

"My tongue is fine," she protests, following you. "Besides, maybe I like the burn."

"Your masochistic tendencies are concerning, Carpenter."

She hops up onto your counter, legs swinging slightly in that stupid perfect skirt. "Says the person who just went full guard dog on the pizza guy."

"I did not—" you start, then catch the look on her face. "I was just… concerned about food temperature maintenance."

"Uh-huh." She's full-on grinning now, cheeks still tinged pink. "And I suppose the death glare was just about proper pizza handling protocols?"

"You know what?" You grab a slice, pointedly avoiding her gaze. "I preferred it when you were defending your crimes against pasta."

"Speaking of which…" She reaches for the bottle of hot sauce she apparently manifested from thin air.

"Absolutely not." You snatch it away, holding it above your head. "I'm not listening to you complain about tongue burn all night again."

"Bold of you to assume I need your permission," she says, sliding off the counter and stepping closer. Much closer. Close enough that you can see the flecks of gold in her eyes, can feel the warmth radiating from her skin.

Your breath catches. She reaches up, ostensibly for the hot sauce, but her hand lands on your wrist instead. Neither of you moves.

"Tara," you say, voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah?"

"Your mac and cheese is getting cold."

She laughs, the sound soft and close, and you think maybe this is better than any Valentine's party could ever be. Even if she is completely wrong about pasta condiments.

"You're impossible," she says, but she's smiling, and she hasn't moved away, and maybe—

Dookie chooses this exact moment to knock over the entire box of pizza.

"Traitor," you both say in unison, then look at each other and burst out laughing.

The moment breaks, but something else settles in its place – something warm and comfortable and maybe a little bit inevitable. Like the way Tara's hand is still on your wrist, or how she's looking at you with that half-smile that makes your heart skip beats.

Your phone buzzes on the counter, screen lighting up with a notification. Tara glances at it reflexively, and something in her expression shifts – subtle enough that someone who doesn't know her as well as you do might miss it, but you've spent months cataloging her micro-expressions during horror movie marathons.

"Charlotte?" she says, and there's something in her voice that makes your stomach drop. "Didn't realize you two were still talking."

You reach for your phone, but Tara's already turning away, suddenly very interested in reorganizing the scattered pizza toppings on her plate. "It's not—"

"No, it's fine," she cuts you off, but her shoulders are tense in that way they get when she's trying too hard to seem casual. "I mean, obviously you can talk to whoever you want."

"Tara."

"I just thought after what happened at New Year's—"

"Nothing happened at New Year's," you say, perhaps a bit too quickly. "We just talked."

She lets out a laugh that doesn't sound like a laugh at all. "Right. Because that's totally why you disappeared for an hour and came back looking like—"

"Like what?" There's an edge to your voice now, the playful atmosphere from earlier evaporating like morning dew. "Come on, Carpenter. Say what you really mean."

She finally looks at you, and there's something raw in her expression that makes your chest ache. "Like you'd rather be anywhere else. With anyone else."

"That's not—" you start, but she's on a roll now.

"You know what? It doesn't matter. I shouldn't have…" she trails off, pushing her plate away. "This was stupid. I should go."

"Are you seriously doing this right now?" You follow her as she starts gathering her things. "Over a text message you didn't even read?"

"This isn't about the text," she says, but she won't meet your eyes. "This is about you always having one foot out the door."

"Me?" You can't help the incredulous laugh that escapes. "That's rich coming from someone who can't even admit why she really skipped Chad's party tonight."

She freezes, one hand on her bag. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what it means." Your heart is pounding, words spilling out before you can stop them. "You're not the only one who's allowed to be scared, Tara."

The silence that follows is deafening. Even Dookie seems to be holding his breath, watching from his perch on the bookshelf with unblinking eyes.

"I'm not scared," she says finally, but her voice wavers slightly.

"No?" You step closer, close enough to see the pulse jumping in her throat. "Then why are you running?"

She looks up at you then, and there's something in her eyes that makes your breath catch – a mix of vulnerability and defiance that's so uniquely Tara it makes your heart hurt.

"Because you let her kiss you," she whispers, and the words hang in the air between you like smoke. "At New Year's. You let her kiss you, and then you came back and acted like nothing happened, and I—"

"She didn't kiss me," you interrupt softly. "I stopped her."

Tara blinks. "What?"

"She tried, yeah. But I stopped her." You run a hand through your hair, frustrated. "Because apparently I'm pathetically gone for someone who puts ketchup in her mac and cheese and thinks 'Prom Night' is better than 'Sleepaway Camp.'"

A beat passes. Then another. Tara's still holding her bag, but her grip has loosened.

"Pathetically?" she repeats, and there's a hint of something in her voice that might be hope.

"Absolutely tragic levels," you confirm, taking another step closer. "It's embarrassing, really. I can't even enjoy pizza delivery without getting jealous."

A small smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. "That was pretty embarrassing."

"Says the person who wore The Skirt™️ to watch Yellowjackets."

She flushes, but she's not running anymore. "You noticed that, huh?"

"Tara," you say softly, "I notice everything about you. It's kind of the problem."

She looks at you for a long moment, then slowly sets her bag down. "You really stopped her?"

"Of course I did." You reach out, tentatively tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Some of us don't have terrible taste in everything."

She laughs, the sound watery but real. "Just in movies, right?"

"And pasta condiments," you agree, and when she smiles, it feels like coming home.

The moment stretches between you like taffy, sweet and fragile. Tara's looking at you with those eyes that always make you forget how to breathe properly, and you're close enough to count her freckles, to see the way her pulse flutters in her throat. Her hand finds yours, fingers intertwining with a certainty that makes your heart stutter.

You could kiss her. You should kiss her. Everything in you is screaming to close that final distance.

Instead, you step back.

The hurt that flashes across her face is gone so quickly you almost convince yourself you imagined it. Almost.

"I can't," you whisper, and the words taste like ash in your mouth. "Not like this."

"Like what?" Her voice is carefully neutral, but you can see her walls going up, brick by careful brick. "With me?"

"That's not—" You run a hand through your hair, frustrated. "You're upset about Charlotte, and the pizza guy, and—"

"Don't." She pulls her hand away, and the loss of contact feels like a physical ache. "Don't you dare try to explain away what just happened."

"I'm trying to protect—"

"Me?" She laughs, but it's a hollow sound that doesn't reach her eyes. "From what, exactly? From making my own decisions? From wanting something that apparently terrifies you?"

"That's not fair."

"No?" She takes a step back, and somehow that small distance feels like miles. "Then what is this, really? Because from where I'm standing, it looks a lot like you're the one with one foot out the door."

The words hit like a slap, echoing your earlier accusation back at you. "Tara—"

"You know what the worst part is?" She's gathering her things again, movements sharp and jerky. "For a second there, I actually thought… God, I'm such an idiot."

"You're not—"

"Save it." She's not looking at you anymore, focused intently on collecting her scattered belongings. "I get it, okay? You're not ready, or you're scared, or whatever excuse you want to use. But don't pretend this is about protecting me."

You want to stop her. Want to explain that you're terrified of ruining this, of losing her, of what happens when the Valentine's Day magic wears off and she realizes you're not worth all this trouble. Want to tell her that you've never been good at keeping the things you love.

Instead, you watch her shrug on her jacket, that stupid perfect skirt swishing with the movement.

"Tara, please—"

"I should go," she says, and her voice is steady even though her hands are shaking slightly. "Before I say something we'll both regret."

Dookie watches from his perch as she heads for the door, tail twitching like he's judging your life choices. You don't blame him.

She pauses at the threshold, one hand on the doorknob. For a moment, you think she might turn around, might give you another chance to fix this. But then her shoulders straighten, and you know what's coming before she says it.

"For the record?" Her voice is quiet but clear. "You're wrong. About everything"

The door closes behind her with a soft click that somehow sounds louder than a slam would have. You stand there in the silence, surrounded by half-eaten pizza and the lingering scent of her perfume, thinking about all the ways hearts break in horror movies versus real life.

-------

A/N: I feel like a cartoon villain. It's nice.

[xerith-42]

Every time I try not to have an ego I proceed to absolutely slay in whatever field I end up in and people think I'm really cool. Like. Is it having an inflated ego if it's just pattern recognition?

[whencyclopedia]

Herodotus on Burial in Egypt

Herodotus' section of his Histories on burial in ancient Egypt (Book II.85-90) is an accurate description of Egyptian mummification, but he purposefully omits the spiritual significance of embalming in keeping with his commitment to refrain from discussing the religious beliefs of other cultures. The spiritual aspect of embalming, however, was central to the practice and is addressed indirectly.

Sarcophagus of Kha (Detail)

Mark Cartwright (CC BY-NC-SA)

This is not to say that Herodotus' account is wrong, only that it may seem incomplete as he clearly explains how embalming was practiced during the Late Period of Ancient Egypt (525-323 BCE), but not the reason for it. Embalming was intimately associated with Egyptian religion, which Herodotus seems to avoid addressing for his own reasons. Herodotus (l. c. 484-425/413 BCE) makes his policy on religious discussions clear, however, earlier in Book II when he deals with the sacred aspect of animals in Egypt:

All the animals in Egypt are regarded as sacred. Some are domesticated, and others are not, but if I were to explain why some animals are allowed to roam free, as sacred creatures, my account would be bound to discuss issues pertaining to the gods, and I am doing my best to avoid relating such things. It is only when I have had no choice that I have touched on them already.

(II.65)

Herodotus actually addresses religious issues frequently throughout his Histories as in the case of Croesus (I.47-91), Cyrus (I.124-126), Persian religious customs (I.131), Themistocles' speech to the Athenians (VIII.109), earlier in his discussion of the Egyptians (II.36-37) and elsewhere. When he claims to be avoiding religious issues, then, what he means is he will discuss practices and events relating to the gods but will not comment on their spiritual significance, though he sometimes slips and does this as well.

It is possible, as some have claimed, that he simply did not understand the religious significance of embalming to the Egyptians, but it is far more likely that he omits commentary for any number of reasons including the personal nature of religious belief and how a discussion of Egyptian beliefs might affect how his audience received the culture. His passage on Egyptian burial is in keeping with his tendency to emphasize positive aspects of a culture he wants his Greek audience to either admire (Egyptians) or understand better (Persians) in the same way he advances a negative narrative concerning those he does not seem to care for (Lydians).

In his section on burial in Egypt, then, he stays close to the actual practice in the interests of informing his readers on funerary rites but omits the deeper meaning as it might have offended the Greeks' own understanding of death, burial, and the afterlife. A reflection on the structure of the chapters in his burial passage, however, suggests he knew the spiritual significance of his topic and did address it, only obliquely.

Book of the Dead (detail)

Mark Cartwright (CC BY-NC-SA)

Spiritual Significance of Mummification

The Egyptian understanding of the soul was far more complex than the Greek. The Egyptians understood the soul as being comprised of nine aspects:

Khat was the physical body.

Ka was one's double-form.

Ba was a human-headed bird aspect, which could speed between the earth and the heavens.

Shuyet was the shadow self.

Akh was the immortal, transformed self.

Sahu and Sechem were aspects of the Akh.

Ab was the heart, the source of good and evil.

Ren was one's secret name.

After death, the ka and ba needed to be able to recognize the khat in order to travel from the other realm to the tomb to receive the prayer offerings and sustenance that enabled their continued existence, and comfort, in the afterlife. The deceased needed to be remembered by the living in order for their akh to remain vibrant in the paradise of the Field of Reeds and the deceased needed to be shown proper respect upon their departure from earth for the same reason. Mummification and an elaborate sarcophagus in the image of the deceased were thought to provide for the soul in this.

Egyptian Mummy

Justin Chay (CC BY-NC-SA)

The practice of mummification also served as a cleansing ritual, purifying the body of the sins of life in preparation for the soul's journey to the Hall of Truth to stand in judgment before Osiris, Lord of the Dead, and the Forty-Two Judges. Scholar Jan Assmann explains:

Guilt, accusation, enmity, and so forth are treated as forms of impurity and decay – as, so to say, immaterial but harmful substances – that must be eliminated so as to transpose the deceased into a condition of purity that can withstand decay and dissolution. Vindication was moral mummification. When the embalmer's work on the corpse was done, the priests took over and extended the work of purification and preservation to the entirety of the person. The Egyptian word for 'mummy' also meant 'worthy' and 'aristocrat'. In this last stage of the mummification process, the deceased experiences the Judgment of the Dead and received the aristocratic status of a follower of Osiris in the Netherworld.

(Chapman, 81)

If the body of the deceased was not treated with the proper care, the soul might return to earth to haunt the living, causing all kinds of problems, until that wrong was righted. Scholar Sarah Lynn Chapman notes how the judgment of the soul in the afterlife was believed to begin during the embalming process when the sins of the righteous were removed with the organs that would have been tainted by those sins, thereby making the soul's spiritual heart lighter and prepared for judgment; for the unrighteous, however, the embalming process would have been a torture as they were thought to cling to their sins and so the removal was a painful experience.

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[babybatss-blog]

ik youve nvr done a fic for sam from sdv but I saw you are happy to!

Could I get fluff where he teaches you how to use his skateboard?

ROUGH DAY

Of course love, that’s such a cute idea! I don’t know much about skating but I did date a girl who skated, so I hope it’s accurate ~

Sam (stardew) x f!reader, 1300 words

Cw: swearing, suggestive language and blood.

Life in the valley is relaxing as you’ve always dreamed it would be. After leaving Zuzu city, you craved a boring normality, without a standard nine to five job and screaming criminals outside of your window at three am when you’re trying to sleep. You do also kind of miss the fun you had in your teenage years though, causing trouble and giving grey hairs to your poor parents. Perhaps that’s why you love Abby, Sam and Sebastian. Being two years younger than you they tended to remind you of trouble-free times, often getting you into antics you wouldn’t dream of now you’re attempting a proper adult life in the scenic countryside.

After doing your simple tasks on the farm you check your phone to see a message from Abby. “Yo we are chilling outside of Sam’s if you want to join :)” You smile at the text, as you’ve only been here for a month and a bit and the three have already welcomed you in so graciously. So you grab you back pack and set off, to spend the day in the sunshine with your new friends.

When you arrive, Abby and Sebastian are sitting on the grass playing Arctic Monkeys on a small speaker, while Sam is skating on the path in front of them. “Hey!!” You call, causing an enthusiastic wave from Abby and a less enthusiastic one from Seb. You thought he hated you, but the others assured you he was ‘just like that’. Sam on the other hand, whips his head up and looses balance on his board almost immediately, causing him to fall flat on his ass on the harsh concrete.

“Shit Sam are you alright?” You say, scrambling to his side to help him up. Despite what you deemed to be a serious tumble, Abigail and Seb merely laugh at the poor boy, pointing and insulting his clumsiness. “mm I’m alright…” he grumbles, dusting himself off with a pink blush coating his cheeks. You can’t help but notice how cute he looks in his flustered state, but choose to not dwell so much on the thought as it somehow feels wrong inside your stomach. “So… What are you doing?” You ask, quickly changing the subject away from your awkward silence. “Just skating. I’ve been trying to kickflip but it’s honestly harder than I thought it would be.” You respond with a confused face, clearly not understanding his complex lingo as if it’s another language entirely.

“Show her what you mean dipshit!” Abby calls out, her and Seb somehow still chuckling to each other. Why are they doing that you wonder, Sam fell over ages ago! This also spikes Sam out of the same confusion, which causes him to explain exactly what a kickflip is. “Right. So, a kickflip is basically just flipping the board as you jump, and landing on it afterwards. Pretty simple but I just can’t get it!”

Simple? You think to yourself silently on how intricate the whole ordeal sounds, but decide not to argue with him on it. Afterall, what do you know about skateboarding? “Here, let me show you what I’ve got so far.” He says, wasting no moment to let you advise against it as he promptly rides off. His nimble legs kick the board into a twist, and he jumps as if a bird in flight. But on the landing, his feet completely miss the centre of the board which causes him to catapult forward!

You start to leap forward (as if it will help in anyway) but he artfully rolls out of it and bounces up to his feet, showing a dorky smile and thumbs up almost immediately to soothe any doubts you may have. “See what I mean?” He walks towards you with an unearned swagger, picking up his board on the way and smiling. How this man hasn’t died yet you have no idea. “God Sam, I don’t know how you even attempt something like that… I can’t even ride forward on a skateboard!” He begins to chuckle at you, before stopping in his tracks with a wide eyed expression. “Hey, I can teach you! I’ve tried to Teach Abby and Seb like a million times now but they never want to. You can be my skating buddy.

Immediately you know how much of a bad idea that is. Flinging yourself onto a wheeled board, on concrete and without any protection? No thanks. But seeing Sam’s wide smile, setting up the board and pondering the best approach to teaching just makes the whole thing so damn appealing. Who can blame a girl, wanting to spend time with a cute guy?

So you roll your eyes, but still walk over to the board on the other side of Sam. “Okay so when your ready grab my hands and step onto the board. We are just going to practice balance for now, I’ll lead you up and down the path until you don’t need to hold on to stand up straight.” Sam sets his hand out on top of the board, calloused and strong from years of falling over and playing guitar. Taking a deep breath, you grab them. They’re warm and safe. You step onto the board, shaking on the spot but somehow still standing up. “Good girl…” He says, making your stomach knot up. You know his simple affirmation shouldn’t make you feel that way, but you cannot help but feel the butterflies building up within your walls.

Abigal and Sebastian seem to have the same idea, as the pair who you had forgotten were still watching arc up, Seb with a wolf whistle and Abby with some loud clapping. “Ignore them.” He says, clearing not getting the inuendo the rest of you recognised in his words. With slow yet dangerous steps Sam leads you forward, both of your eyes trained on the board below you. A smile grows on your face at the success, feeling an odd sort of accomplishment despite the small task. His hands pull away from yours, which you know was the goal of this but still makes you somehow upset.

You hold you breath as if you are on a tightrope, trying desperately not to fall off. You almost had it too, until Sam gives the board a light push and it catapults out from underneath you! Your three friends all leap up, taking your fall much more seriously than Sam’s previous ones as both your right leg and two palms draw blood on the harsh contact below. A string of mumbled curse words leaves Sam’s mouth as he rushes to your side, while all you can do is just sit their in defeat. “Fuck I’m so sorry, I thought you were ready to have the board moving. Are you bleeding?” You only nod back, raising your hands to show the raw skin you have developed. Sam scatters off like a nervous school boy into his house to grab his mothers first aid kit, as Abby and Seb sit next to you. “Good job there.” Seb says sarcastically, causing you to blush even more. “Shut up.” You reply. “I wanted to seem cool.”

To this Abigail envelopes you in a hug. “Girl you are cool! You don’t need to prove yourself to us or anyone! Plus, Sam already thinks your cool.” She says with a smile. “Really?” You ask, hopefully in your question as if it will solve all your issues. Both her and Seb reaffirm this, as Sam now rushes back outside (almost falling over himself again in the process) to pick you up. “Come on, I’ve got some bandages and ointment in the kitchen for you.”

He slings your arm over his shoulder and hoists you up effortlessly, helping you stumble into the kitchen. Truthfully, your small scratches don’t need all this attention, but you’ll take the excuse to be close to Sam once again.

[marlenacantswim]

hey gang, do we all agree that ten's massive ego and god complex (or rather those traits being especially prominent in his regeneration) were a direct result of what happened in Parting of the Ways?

"marlena what the fuck do you mean" okay well think about it; ninth doctor. fresh off the time war. thinks himself unlovable, unworthy of love. just did a double genocide, including against his own people. he's returning to his old ways of lallygagging around helping humans in a more-than-desperate attempt to repress his feelings and try to mimic the person he was before the war. he's so vulnerable.

enter rose tyler. to him? she's the most amazing person in the universe. he loves her, full stop. she makes him feel like maybe he's still capable of love, but does he really trust her love for him? after all, she doesn't really know him, does she?

all that comes to a head when rose tyler becomes the bad wolf. in that moment, she sees everything. everything everything. the doctor's past, and the doctor's future. every horrible thing they did and will do.

and in that moment, with all this truth streaming constantly into her brain, most amazing person in the universe rose tyler looks at him and goes "i want to save you. you are worth saving."

bro no fucking shit ten has a motherfucking god complex, jesus christ i would too!!!

now personally i think nine would have rationalized it and been relatively Normal 'bout all that noise had he survived onwards, but unfortunately he didn't, and so when the doctor's subconscious and the universe were holding hands deciding what their new little guy should be like... well, we're already making him just for her, and she loves him.

rose tyler loves me. she loved me even when she knew me.

i'm just saying, that "Bad Wolf chose to save me" to "the laws of time are mine to command" pipeline is a straight vertical drop only a few feet long.

[lea-sbian]

LMK SEASON 5 MAJOR SPOILERS

I JUST REALIZED SOMETHING

So, MK was woken and born early, and he was SUPPOSED to have been made when the cycle was ending. Does that mean he also was meant to have a hand in the destruction of the old world to build the new? In the season 4 final we see his gigantic ass monkey form and just how different the personality of this form is to his regular one, so like, what if Nuwa wanted him to ‘cleanse’ the world before sacrificing himself so it could be born anew?

I’m just imagining a fully formed monkey MK sprinting out of the stone like “alright time to do some DAMAGE” and goes hog wild on the world before seeing that nothing is left, and finally going back into the heavenly pillar to join his mother.

I dunno for sure, I think that may be too dark of a narrative for the folk at Lego to have planned (but maybe not, I mean they did have a suicidal hero’s complex happen in season 5) but god I love the idea that he was BUILT to destroy everything, but because of the nine headed demons influence he got to live the life of someone in the world that nuwa had created, which was not her intention.

Like his entire existence goes against destiny ya know? And I’m here for it

[tapioca-puddingg]

Why GoWR Valhalla Is Important

Hey. It's me again. This time I'm not yelling about Kingdom Hearts or Drakengard, but I wanted to talk about God of War Ragnarök: Valhalla today and why I think it's important in trauma-centered narratives. This isn't a detailed analysis, just me spitballing.

SPOILER WARNING: There will be spoilers for God of War Ragnarök: Valhalla, so please proceed with caution!

EDITED: 2/26/24

As a brief summary, Kratos spent almost the entirety of GoW 2018 refusing to talk about his past. His guilt, shame, and trauma deeply affected his relationship with his son, to the point where he didn't want to be around Atreus bc he was terrified of being a bad influence on him. It was only when Atreus' life was in danger did it force him to finally admit just a sliver of the truth. Now I don't mean to say that Kratos revealing his godhood wasn't a big deal because it absolutely was, I'm just saying that it's just one piece of a MUCH bigger story. Anyway, he recognized his past mistakes, but the shame was too much for him to openly acknowledge it until damn near the end of the game.

Come Ragnarök, Kratos was pretty much an open book. He had grown SO much in those short years of fimbulwinter: He openly talked about his trauma to Mimir and Freya. He worked so hard to be a good father and a good support system to his friends. He went out of his way to make amends with Freya and restore their friendship. And he fought to restore peace to the Nine Realms.

But come Valhalla, Freya wants to recruit Kratos to be the new God of War of the nine realms, or at least to be a part of the new peacekeeping council that she's putting together. Kratos is extremely hesitant to take up the mantle. He doesn't feel worthy or deserving enough to hold this position given all that he's done. He and Mimir (and later on, Tyr) are constantly going back and forth about it. Both perspectives are completely valid. Valhalla is about Kratos facing his past in a more literal sense; parts of Greece have been manifested from Kratos' memories of it, so it's like he gets to be there in real time again. This is about helping him process what happened and to add some nuance to the conversation. It's like free therapy for Kratos.

It's funny too bc you have both opposing viewpoints being represented. On one hand, you have Mimir and Tyr being the supporting/validating voice, and Helios is the contrarian. Since he's a manifestation of Kratos' memories, he represents the doubts that Kratos has about himself. The harsh voice to show how hard he is on himself, and not without good reason.

The reason why I think Valhalla is so important is bc in media, survivor narratives are often linear. The character just "gets over" their trauma and then that trauma isn't addressed again. It's presented more as a hurdle than a lifelong battle. I guess this goes to show how misunderstood survivorhood is. But that isn't how healing works. We regress sometimes, and sometimes we still mull over the things that have happened to us. We might heal, but that trauma does leave emotional scars. So even after the many leaps and bounds Kratos has made, he's not "over" his past, far from it! It still haunts him every day and every night. Valhalla is Kratos still processing everything. From my own healing journey, I've learned that it takes a long, long time to fully process your trauma, if there even is a "fully", anyway. It takes a long time to learn and understand all the complexities and how it affects you in current day. And it takes even longer to process such a complicated history like Kratos'.

Generally speaking about the idea of processing trauma, I said earlier that survivorhood is extremely misunderstood by the masses. Imo, our society is very anti-victim/anti-survivor. So with that in mind, from the perspective of the audience, some might perceive the processing trauma bit as repetitive or "milking it". These are mediums of entertainment after all, so ofc I understand wanting to put out an engaging story where the audience doesn't lose interest. But screw those ppl lol. We have to understand why we do what we do if we want to do better, and it's amazing that a video game is willing to have these conversations. Being more open about all the nuances of processing trauma, grief, healing, etc will go such a long way.

Even the roguelite gameplay style perfectly reflects this theme. Processing this stuff is slow. It doesn't happen overnight. Unless you're in Valhalla, I suppose.

Okay I said this wasn't a detailed analysis but I lied. I'm a liar now

[aliferousonyx]

Sera is NOT the ruler of heaven - Theory

Alright, so, regarding the hierarchy of angels, I don't think the Sera is like the ruler of heaven or the eldest; in the beginning, when Charlie talks about how Lucifer fell, he's talking about the eldest ones, these guys:

" Once upon a time, there was a glowing city protected by golden gates, known as Heaven. It was ruled by beings of pure light. Angels that worshiped good and shielded all from evil. Lucifer was one of these angels. He was a dreamer with fantastical ideas for all of creation. But, he was seen as a troublemaker by the elders of Heaven. For they felt his way of thinking was dangerous to the order of their world."

And now, in episode 5, when Lucifer tells Charlie about how his dreams were shattered, the six angels appear again, who, due to having six wings, are Seraphim. We can tell that they are the same ones from their crowns.

As we can see, Sera does not appear among them. She comes later when the discussion about the creation of the Earth begins, and she is together with the Ophanim.

So maybe she appeared later, considering there are older and younger Seraphim, like Emily. I believe the elders were the ones who expelled Lucifer and Lilith from heaven as punishment for what they did. Sera probably was afraid to tell Emily, fearing she might end up like Lucifer. She didn't want to lose another sibling. She sounds very scared for her when Emily defends the sinners. She probably thinks that if the elders find out, they will also cast her out for disobedience.

Perhaps Sera leads the department of humans, much like Lucifer leads the Pride Ring, while the elders handle other aspects, I don't know, the universe.

Regarding the other angels, I'll take the hierarchy from the wiki and try to identify what and how.

"The most influential Catholic angelic hierarchy was presented by Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite in the 5th or 6th century in his book "On the Celestial Hierarchy" (De Coelesti Hierarchia). Dionysius described nine levels of spiritual beings grouped into three orders:

Highest orders

Seraphim

Cherubim

Ophanim

Middle orders

Dominions

Virtues

Powers

Lowest orders

Principalities

Archangels

Angels"

1.Highest orders

Seraphim

In Vivzi's vision so far, it seems that Seraphim are the highest class of angels, with the oldest members, Sera, Emily, and Lucifer, belonging to this category.

Cherubim

The book of Ezekiel provides the most detailed depiction of the Cherubim. They are described as having four different faces, wings covered with eyes, and legs like a calf’s, gleaming like burnished bronze. Ezekiel’s description of the Cherubim is arguably the most detailed in the Bible. It indicates that each Cherubim possesses four faces: a human, a lion, an ox, and an eagle.

Now I know, I know that in Helluva Boss, Vivziepop depicted Cherubs as cute creatures, not just having the four-faced aspect.

They also have only one pair of wings instead of two.

The wings of the Cherubim are another notable element in their descriptions across biblical literature. Cherubim are most often depicted with two or four wings. In the Ark of the Covenant context, each Cherubim has two wings. The wings spread upwards, overshadowing the Mercy Seat, creating an intimate space that symbolizes the dwelling place of God.

In the visions of Ezekiel, the Cherubim have four wings. Two cover their bodies, and the other is used for flight, indicating their readiness to execute divine commands (Ezekiel 1:6).

Now, do you know who has four wings? These guys.

And these guys too.

They also look like eagles too.

I don't know, what do you think?

Ophanim

These guys:

The Ophanim, also known as Thrones Angels, are often described as “wheels within wheels” or the “Many-Eyed Ones.” 

Their unique appearance, filled with symbolism and profound meaning, represents a complex interplay between divine wisdom, cosmic order, and eternal movement.

In ancient texts, they are depicted as part of a celestial chariot, moving in harmony with other divine creatures such as the Cherubim. Their intricate design, filled with eyes, symbolizes divine omniscience, while their perpetual motion reflects the unending cycles of creation and transformation.

Now, what the hell is this guy?

WHAT ARE YOUUUUUU?????

I will make a second part.

[whispering-radiance]

| OC posting | Yapping about my Ocs and Glow of Amber AU

I’ve gotten a big ask from @meyexe , so I decided to make it into a post — I will discuss some of their questions

Okey, let’s get through this "I guess I'll just wait until you talk about the Ninja Clan before I ask questions." Clan of the first ninja is pretty much dead, and he is the sole survivor. There were nine of them– first few died while battling the sorcerer, others probably from injuries or illnesses, and the rest burned during the great fire started by Tengu.

"How did Eiko start working with the gods? With the help of "mother"?" There definitely wasn’t any help from her mother – She pretty much discovered this path on her own. And she didn’t start with gods right away – she started working with small, gentle spirits, and slowly made herself visible to those residing in heavens. Maybe the fact that she came from the amber goddess helped her gain some recognition? Becoming someone great definitely was one of the driving forces for Eiko. 

"We know Ninja works hard. But we cannot rule out the possibility of spending time with children outside the context of training or the like. What could it be in your opinion?"

Well, there definitely was something more in their lives than just training sessions. They did most of the things as family, even such basic things as going to the market. But besides activities like that, I think they might have played instruments together, each one played something different : I imagine Eiko playing Koto (箏), Nomi on Shamisen (三味線) and First ninja could play the Shakuhachi (尺八) .I guess Fninja wanted to pass everything he knew and ensure his family’s traditions lived on.

"Can Ninja be a good father?" Oh I have to bring out the heavy guns for this one – I’ve written many father figures throughout the years, so I have a thing or two to say. I’m sure he was a good father and his children were his center of attention – And I think it’s because of his previous loss of brothers and sisters. Now he’s the one ensuring protection –when he used to be one getting protected by other members of his clan. 

Now, he might have been a good dad, but that doesn't mean he was a good person. I’m not saying he’s evil, or bad, just that he went through a lot and holds more trauma on his back than my middle school Ocs. He would often react out of “fight or flight” instinct, and the whole ninja work would definitely stress him out. So I imagine he often needed time alone from everything, and he might have even raised his voice on Eiko and Nomi occasionally. That being said, I don’t think he would have considered his children a burden or a curse – In my opinion he felt blessed with the opportunity to preserve his clan’s lineage .

"Nomi, most likely, can talk to her father as an equal person, referring to her mentality, but he remains a child. This, however, did not stop Nomi from disobeying him, or even on the contrary, it helped. Could they communicate on some complex and confusing topics?"

I’m not sure what you meant by “confusing topics” but they most likely did talk on many difficult topics. But maybe the more philosophical conversations started in his teen years, rather than childhood.

"Are Eiko and Nomi fighting? (I think this is a common thing for a brother and sister;" Of course – but those never were serious, bloody fights, just casual arguments over small things

"Is it possible to come to Amber at this time? Does Eiko do this? Did Ninja or Nomi come to her after she left?" What I’ve imagined for her is that she created an amber seal to stop the great evil from coming to human world, and to ensure the seal would remain strong, she also trapped herself in it – She held it together for ages but in recent years the seal started losing its strength – Soon it might crack just like the Eye of eternities did.

I don’t think there was a possibility of visiting her, it might have happened in a hard to reach place, perhaps underground or under the mountain.

She's a girlboss holding Yamato no Orochi trapped so that he can't hurt anyone

"Did Amber leave something as a memento of herself? She could give the children a piece of amber with some cool magic."

Both Eiko and Nomi carry a piece of amber with themselves – it glows brighter if she’s near – it’s like a compass for a possible reunion.

I think she’d left something very powerful for Fninja – because lovers of the gods usually get the good stuff

+ I guess that’s all for now — I’m not sure what else I can add to this post…— Perhaps a timeline is needed but even this needs some thought—

+ I think Amber left her kids when they were around 7 or 8 — but she wasn’t there for them during their teen years

+ Yamato no Orochi tried to emerge from the shadow realm to try and free sorcerer, steal his powers and destroy the human world. Amber sacrificed herself to protect everything (she’s alive; but forced to be trapped in her own seal with the monster)

[thefandomchaos]

Got bored, wrote a argumentative essay on why I believe Sam has body dysmorphia for fun so here it is:

For a character who defeated god, you may not think he could suffer from something as common as body dysmorphia. Sam Winchester from the tv series “Supernatural” (2005-2020) is a complex character, but is this throwaway line from pilot episode that brings this theory to life. “Sammy is a chubby twelve year old. It’s Sam, okay.” (s01ep01). A Iconic line, but knowing how this character grew up, it makes it hard to believe Sam would ever get to the point of being considered ‘Chubby’ unless he considered himself as such. In this essay, I will show why I believe Sam Winchester suffers from body dysmorphia with facts from the show.

Firstly, we have the fact that growing up, Sam (and Dean) had very little money. Growing up, his entire childhood and part of his adulthood was living in motels. With a absent father who would leave Sam and his brother for days or weeks with little money for food, they had to do with what they could. We know that Dean as a young age stole food and did things for money to buy said food. We also know that Dean went hungry time from time or ate very little so that Sam could eat decently. (We see in a episode a man asking Dean if his every gone hungry, like haven’t eaten in days hungry and Dean answer that he has.) We see in the Supernatural episode “Bad Boys” (s09ep07) in a flashback that Dean got arrested and sent to a boys home for getting caught stealing bread. The person in charge of the boys home, Sonny, asked him if the bread was for him but Dean never answers, knowing Dean character’s its safe to assume the bread was for Sam. Due to the fact that they barley had enough money and often went hungry, I don’t think Sam would have ever gotten the chance to get ‘Chubby’ unless he believed he was.

Secondly, we have the fact that their father, John Winchester, trained Sam and Dean from a young age. In a world of supernatural beings and a man driven by revenge, John constantly trained Sam and Dean throughout their childhood, and not just any training, military training with the bonus of fighting monsters. The moment Sam found out about the supernatural, his training began, which is depressing when you realize he was only eight, as is not like John would care considering Dean already knew how to shoot a gun around that age and he gave Sam a gun when he was nine. (“Yeah? When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45.” …. “I was nine years old! He was supposed to say, don't be afraid of the dark.” (s01ep01) ) So with constant training, fighting for your life and going on hunts, is safe to say that Sam and Dean were constantly in shape. Which again, further cements my theory.

Lastly, and the most obvious fact, we see Sam at twelve years old. In that same episode “Bad Boys” (s09ep07) that I mentioned earlier, we see a young Sam Winchester briefly in the last flashback of that episode. We know that in the flashback’s of the episodes, Dean is sixteen years old, and considering the fact that his four years older than Sam, it would mean Sam is in fact, twelve years old. And in the scene, his in fact, a very small and skinny kid, and the oversized shirt his wearing doesn’t do any favors. So going back to Sam’s line in the pilot, things aren’t adding up, unless we considered, that this is just Sam suffering from body dysmorphia.

Now of course, you can argue that I’m over thinking this, that is a line from the first episode and they din’t even know if the show would do good and it was only going to last five seasons before it continued with a different writer. And yes, is okay to assume that, maybe Sam is just saying things to get Dean to stop calling him ‘Sammy’. But again, Why say that? They never had enough food to eat, they were constantly trained and doing things that would keep them in shape, and this is not even mentioned that throughout the entirety of the show, Sam is constantly eating healthy and keeping in shape by exercising and going on runs in the morning. And more obvious, Dean wouldn’t have believed him since he pretty much raised Sam and would know well enough Sam wasn’t chubby. And with the certainty that Sam had said the line, as if stating a fact, it’s same to assume that Sam personally believed that as so.

In conclusion, I believe Sam Winchester suffered from body dysmorphia. We see constant evidence in the show that there was never a way from Sam to end up ‘chubby’ as he claimed he was at twelve years old. And again, considering we actually see him at said age, it’s easy to assume that Sam just believed he actually was. Then again, this is all my own personal believe and theories, and every is entitled to their own opinion. In the end, this is just a show and nothing is real.

[shimmerbeasts]

The siblings moved through the empty camp, the attempt to contact Jaheira proved once more a foolish one. They've thought that this time, at least, it would be easier, since she was in the city and even spent a night with them… But they were wrong, it seems. Rion’s gaze was sharp, scanning the place with restless energy. Beside her, Jord let out a sigh, heavy with exhaustion.

“She’s not here either, Rion,” Jord’s voice was low, each word dragging with defeat.

Rion scoffed, a sharp, bitter sound. “Of course she isn’t. Gods forbid a mother deigns to speak to her own children,” she muttered, the words clipped with irritation. “I don’t know why I expected anything different from her.”

Her eyes caught movement between the swaying fabric of nearby tents — a flash of curved horns. Another tiefling, no doubt, one of the many her mother surrounded herself with these times. The ones Jaheira listened to more than her own kids. “Wait. There’s someone over there.”

Before Jord could reach out or protest, Rion was striding forward, in bold steps. She pushed through the narrow gap between two tents, her voice firm. “You there! Do you know when Commander Jaheira will be back?”

The words caught in her throat as she emerged on the other side. This was no ordinary companion. And by the nine hells, this definitely was no tiefling. Tall, with massive cartilaginous wings, an aura as sharp as broken glass and eyes that glowed with a knowing smirk — this was a devil. The surprise twisted into disbelief on Rion’s face. Her mother had the gall to scold her relationship choices while traveling around with a devil? Hypocrite.

Jord, who had followed just a step behind, pulled back with wide eyes. “Uh... We’re sorry, err… Ma’am?” He stammered, “We didn’t mean to — to interrupt. We’ll just… uh… we have to go now,” he shoots his sister a pleading look.

Rion met his gaze, her eyes fierce with the same defiant gleam Jaheira had when cornered. She turned back to the devil, swallowing hard, but holding her chin high in a nonchalant defiance. “Yes, we have places to be,” she said. “But when Commander Jaheira graces us with her presence, tell her the northern squad needs her assistance.”

Just like Dame Aylin and Withers, Mizora rarely desired to accompany the tadpole gang on their escapades through Baldur's Gate. Even with all the affection, the Cambion had begun to start feeling for Jaheira and felt for Wyll, their little squabbles, unrelated to the Elder Brain, felt so unworthy of her attention. As far as Mizora was concerned, they should focus on getting the remaining Netherstones and making their final move against the Elder Brain. Unfortunately, as per usual, things were not that straightforward. Mortals were good with one thing: They so loved to complicate their own problems and miseries. It was why they were such easy fodder for fiends.

The Cambion had been languidly wandering around the camp, idling about, feeling the coolness of the evening air. The tadpole gang, including Jaheira, were somewhere deep within the bowels of Baldur's Gate, doing only Zariel-knew-what. However, just because the Cambion was minding her own business as she wandered through the camp, did not mean she had dropped her guard. Her head whipped around when she heard a sudden voice calling her and an inquiry about where Jaheira was.

The caller was a high half-elf with cream skin and short, complex braided, brown hair. Her pointy ears, her narrow brows and watchful eyes gave her a look of sternness despite her youthful looks. This was someone, who had been forced to grow up way faster than they might have wanted to. As Mizora's red eyes locked onto the elf, her expression of shock gave way to something interesting. Disbelief and perhaps even a hint of anger. Something was going on, that Mizora did not know yet, and she hungered for that hidden information.

However, before Mizora could address the girl, a boy caught up to her. A half-orc with long, sleek, reddish brown hair. He seemed just as startled by her presence, pulling back the moment he laid eyes on her. Unlike the girl, he even stammered some hasty apology for having intruded. However, instead of considering letting them go, that hurried attempt at a retreat only sparked Mizora's curiosity further. Especially as they finally mentioned why they were here in the first place.

This was about Jaheira and a certain northern squad.

"Now, why would I let you go?", Mizora spoke calmly as she took a step towards the two unexpected visitors, "You are clearly looking for a mutual friend of ours. And I would be amiss if I could not tell Jaheira exactly what plagues you. After all, it seems quite urgent. Poor things ... You look positively spooked."

After the Cambion finished speaking, a low growl came right behind the half-elf and half-orc. If they were to throw a look behind themselves, they would make out the sleek, muscular, lean bodies of two Hellhounds, which had crept up behind them out of the shadows. Red glowing eyes locked onto them and huffs and puffs, hungry, little pants came out of maws, which might eject fire at any minute.

"It seems my pets are not keen on you leaving either", Mizora said with a satisfied smile on her lips, drinking in the fear and agitation, these two children were radiating. By Zariel, was there anything more pleasurable? "Don't worry. They are quite tame."

[nevelk-13]

Notes on Forever

When I was in third grade, I sat one day at my desk, thinking. My red polo buttoned to the throat, a crucifix looming over me in the corner of the room. Always under the watchful eye of God. Our lesson in religion class that day had to do with heaven, how we will all go there after we die--under the condition we follow the word of God-- for eternity. Forever. I couldn't wrap my prepubescent mind around this. How could I, who had ever experienced anything for at most nine years, possibly fathom the concept of eternity? It's impossible. But I tried. My math worksheet sat untouched, pure and blank, while I stared at the white expansive for minutes that felt like hours, toiling to understand just how long forever is. I thought about arriving in Heaven, the joy of seeing Jesus in person. How he would embrace me and welcome me through the pearly gates. And then I thought about how one million years--the longest un-eternal amount of time I could think up-- would pass, and I would still be there. In the same place. The fact that it was Heaven did not make a difference. I realized that I didn't want it. I could not bear the thought of existing eternally, even with God, not even in the most perfect of places. All I could feel was panic. Not at the shame of rejecting heaven, but at the concept of doing or being anything for forever. It was all too much to carry. I cried, uncontrollably. My teacher asked me what was wrong, and I tried to explain. But the fear of eternity was as complex and inarticulate as the subject of my fear itself. I told her I was scared to die and go somewhere for eternity.

"Oh, you're not going there," She assured me. She thought I was simply scared of Hell. The problem was much deeper than that.

Maybe an eternity in Hell would be easier to navigate, in some respects. Yes, there is the never-ending suffering and pain. Naturally. But suffering and pain entails conflict, no? So there would be something to fight, something to overcome, even if the boulder rolled back down the hill at the end of each never-ending day. There can't be nothing but happiness forever, its unthinkable. That is the same as having nothing, forever.

I think this is my problem with marriage, too, this fear of monotonous eternity. How can it possibly be attainable to be happy with the same person, living the same lifestyle, talking about the same things, for the rest of your life? It's truly terrifying. I suppose this doesn't mean I won't eventually endeavor to do so, to be happy with the same person forever, but I must admit that it feels like a doomed affair.

The concept of a career is similarly haunting. I am hard-pressed to name a single pursuit I would relish in performing every day for the rest of my life-- even something as mercurial as being an artist, or a writer. I can hardly stay in the same place for four months without feeling the need to run away. Maybe finding comfort in the idea of eternity is something that slowly grows on you the older you get, the closer you become to the end of your life. But eleven years later I still feel like a little girl, trying in vain to compute straightforward tasks while my brain entertains horrifying notions of eternity. Will I feel this way forever?

[iveneverbeenmorestressedinmylife]

Για το ask game Edgeworth και Ανδρέας

Miles Edgeworth 💅

First impression: OH I SHOULD GET INTO ACE ATTORNEY IMMEDIATELY THIS MAN IS GOING TO RUIN ME.

Impression now: I was one hundred percent correct in my assumptions. He did in fact ruin me. This man has the range honestly. He is kind. He is an asshole. He is traumatised. He has every subtype of daddy issues known to man. He is a bitchy gay queen. He is aroace-spec (to me). He is autistic. He has NO idea what to do with himself when he is not in a courtroom. He is insane. Ive seen it. I enjoy it. Amen.

Favourite moment: "thanks to you i am saddled with unnecessary.... feelings....". Everything about turnabout goodbyes. The talk with Franziska at the end of aa2. The talk with phoenix after the earthquake in aa3. I could literally never pick Just One moment sorry.

Idea for a story: ... I've brainstormed two (2) aus that involve Edgeworth with two different mutuals. The first one is the Eurovision au where vk just sends miles to represent germany in Eurovision and the second one is the ace attorney/παρά πέντε crossover me and @alalumin have been driving ourselves insane over. Out of the two, the first one is the most fleshed out but the second one i might actually sit down and write for one day. Thats about all the concrete story ideas ive had for this man so far dkskks. Everything else is just a jumble of vague angsty daydreams.

Unpopular opinion: hmmm a lot of people tend to ignore the fact that he was canonically suicidal after aa1 so i suppose that could count as an unpopular opinion? Like if he wasn't actually suicidal, the note meant that he straight up faked his death which makes him an even bigger asshole that he usually is, which in turn makes phoenix's misdirected anger and blame seem a lot more justified? Also a lot of people tend to ignore the fact that phoenix would NOT handle Edgeworth admitting that he meant the note literally well. And honestly im not really blaming anyone here. Their aa2 dynamic is sooo complex, Edgeworth hurt the people that cared about him by hurting himself and not all of them are ready to forgive him immediately and thats fine. I just wish more people would explore this whole thing instead of oversimplifying it yknow?

Favourite relationship: narumitsu obvs but honestly? The Franziska and Miles fucked up sibling relationship means the world to me, its like a really really really close second.

Favourite headcanon: does it actually count as a headcanon if its strongly supported by canon? Idk but he definitely avoids elevators as much as he can and considering that his office is in the twelfth fucking floor the man walks up a lot of flights of stairs. He must have thighs of steel skkskaka. Also i like to think that at some point after the investigation games he went to therapy and he finally (!) got some help for that unmedicated and undiagnosed canon ptsd hes been drowning in since he was nine years old. Also he got Pess because i love her. Maybe she is trained as a service dog. He would love her with all his heart and her death would kickstart a major depressive episode because god knows this man can't handle grief but in the end he could get over it. Maybe even get a second dog or learn how to deal with loss in a less self destructive way. Also i don't think he would ever be able to fully enjoy Christmas? Like sure his fathers death doesn't hurt as much anymore but i like to think that the nightmares rear their ugly head during the Christmas season. Sure, he IS doing better but some things never really go away. He can hang out at the prosecutors office or Wright anything agency Christmas parties without feeling utterly miserable but he doesn't enjoy the holidays as much as everyone else. Some people don't understand why or think thats its just another aspect of his charming personality but the people who do are sympathetic about it.

Ανδρέας Καλογήρου 🔪

First impression: γουαου ποιός είναι αυτός ο μαλάκας λολ. Ειλικρινά νομίζω την πρώτη φορά που είδα το παρά πέντε δεν με ένοιαζε πολύ σαν χαρακτήρας.

Impression now: κοίτα. Έχεις δει το μπλογκ μου. Ξέρεις πως νιώθω για αυτόν τον άνθρωπο. Ο Ανδρέας έχει θεματάρες. Έχει παγιδεύσει τον εαυτό του σε μια θέση στην οποία είναι και θύμα και θύτης και από την οποία δεν έχει τρόπο ή ιδιαίτερη θέληση να βγει. Κατά την διάρκεια του σόου πηγαίνει από την αδιαφορία για τους ανθρώπους που σκοτώνει, στην εμμονή με το να πιάσει τους πέντε και μόνο όταν τον συλλαμβάνουν και όλα τελειώνουν συνηδειτοποιεί πόσο μάταια ήταν όλα αυτά και πόσες ζωές έχει καταστρέψει συμπεριλαμβανομένης και της δικής του. Επίσης ο άνθρωπος είναι μούναρος 😔😔.

Favourite moment: το τηλεφώνημα στον Σπύρο στο φινάλε με στοιχειώνει τα βράδια.

Idea for a story: πέρα από το ο Σπύρος επισκέπτεται τον Ανδρέα στη φυλακή fic που βρίσκεται αυτή τη στιγμή στο wip hell μου έχει καρφωθεί στο μυαλό εκείνη η ατάκα που ο Παυρινός αποκαλεί τον Νίκο πρεζόνι και το τι μπορεί να υπονοεί για το Ανδρέας/Νίκος μπακστορι. Επίσης εκείνο το όνειρο που είχα δει ότι έχει κόρη και redemption arc, angst fic για την γενική κακομεταχείριση που τρώει από τον Παυρινό, το Ανδρέας/Νίκος καφενείο au το οποίο κάποιος πρέπει να γράψει σας εκλιπαρώ και το προαναφερόμενο ace attorney/παρά πέντε crossover στο οποίο εμφανίζεται ως μάρτυρας στην δίκη της Αγγέλας. Το πόσα από αυτά θα καταλήξω όντως να γράψω ποτέ είναι πολύ αμφιλεγόμενο τβχ αλλά το γεγονός είναι ότι μου τριβελίζουν συνέχεια το μυαλό.

Unpopular opinion: δεν ξέρω είμαστε στο παρά πέντε φάντομ, είμαστε δέκα άτομα όλα κι όλα κάθε άποψη μετράει για unpopular κσκσκσ. Αλλά απλά και μόνο για να πω κάτι. Νομίζω όντως προσπάθησε να αγαπήσει τη Ζάνα. Ο γάμος τους ήταν ότι πιο hand in unlovable hand και σφάζονταν όλη μέρα αλλά προσπάθησε να φτιάξει τη ζωή του στην αρχή τουλάχιστον, εξού και ο ευτυχισμένος χετεροσεξουαλ γάμος. Στο μυαλό μου ήταν από αυτά τα ζευγάρια που έχουν ημερομηνία λήξης και το ήξεραν και οι δύο. Μετά έπεσε στα βαθιά με τις δουλειές με τον Παυρινό και πήρανε επιτέλους διαζύγιο. Επίσης δεν νομίζω ότι με τον Νίκο τα έχουνε, έχουνε. Νομίζω έχουν μια ελαφρώς fucked up relationship όπου δεν επικοινωνούν τίποτα εβερ, απλά πηδιουνται περιστασιακά on and off και μετά απλά πηγαίνουν και τα φτιάχνουν με άλλους. Τουλάχιστον στην αρχή. Τώρα αν μετά το τέλος της σειράς βγουν ποτέ από την φυλακή θέλω να πιστεύω ότι θα μπορούσαν να φτιάξουν λίγο τη ζωή τους αλλά αν δεν βγουν ποτέ. Well. Πώς νιώθεις όταν συνηδειτοποιείς ότι αγαπούσες τον καλύτερο σου φίλο χρόνια τώρα αλλά δεν έκανες ποτέ τίποτα για αυτό επειδή απλά δεν τολμούσες να αλλάξεις τίποτα στην μοναδική σταθερή σχέση που σου είχε απομείνει στη ζωή σου και ταυτόχρονα ήσουν πολύ απασχολημένος να σκοτώνεις κόσμο; Πώς νιώθεις όταν συνηδειτοποιείς ότι τώρα μπορεί να είναι πια πολύ αργά; Γενικά head full many thoughts.

Favourite relationship: Νίκος/Ανδρέας δαγκωτό.

Favourite headcanon: ναιιι δεν νομίζω ότι αυτός ο άνθρωπος είχε καλά παιδικά χρόνια. Ή καλό πατέρα. Ο Παυρινός κυριολεκτικά του πετάει πράγματα και αυτός ο καημένος σκύβει να τα πιάσει 😔 babyboy έχεις τραύμα. Η μάνα του είναι νεκρή (ναι κυριολεκτικά αναφέρεται έτσι throwaway σε ένα επεισόδιο και δεν το έχω ξεχάσει ποτέ) και επιλέγω να πιστεύω ότι την σκότωσε ο πατέρας του. Μισεί τον πατέρα του και κατά βάθος μισεί και το γεγονός ότι μεγαλώνοντας έχει γίνει σχεδόν ακριβώς σαν αυτόν. Ξεκίνησε να καπνίζει στο γυμνάσιο. Επίσης δεν πιστεύω ότι τελείωσε ποτέ το λύκειο.

[whencyclopedia]

Herodotus on Burial in Egypt

Herodotus' section of his Histories on burial in ancient Egypt (Book II.85-90) is an accurate description of Egyptian mummification, but he purposefully omits the spiritual significance of embalming in keeping with his commitment to refrain from discussing the religious beliefs of other cultures. The spiritual aspect of embalming, however, was central to the practice and is addressed indirectly.

This is not to say that Herodotus' account is wrong, only that it may seem incomplete as he clearly explains how embalming was practiced during the Late Period of Ancient Egypt (525-323 BCE), but not the reason for it. Embalming was intimately associated with Egyptian religion, which Herodotus seems to avoid addressing for his own reasons. Herodotus (l. c. 484-425/413 BCE) makes his policy on religious discussions clear, however, earlier in Book II when he deals with the sacred aspect of animals in Egypt:

All the animals in Egypt are regarded as sacred. Some are domesticated, and others are not, but if I were to explain why some animals are allowed to roam free, as sacred creatures, my account would be bound to discuss issues pertaining to the gods, and I am doing my best to avoid relating such things. It is only when I have had no choice that I have touched on them already.

(II.65)

Herodotus actually addresses religious issues frequently throughout his Histories as in the case of Croesus (I.47-91), Cyrus (I.124-126), Persian religious customs (I.131), Themistocles' speech to the Athenians (VIII.109), earlier in his discussion of the Egyptians (II.36-37) and elsewhere. When he claims to be avoiding religious issues, then, what he means is he will discuss practices and events relating to the gods but will not comment on their spiritual significance, though he sometimes slips and does this as well.

It is possible, as some have claimed, that he simply did not understand the religious significance of embalming to the Egyptians, but it is far more likely that he omits commentary for any number of reasons including the personal nature of religious belief and how a discussion of Egyptian beliefs might affect how his audience received the culture. His passage on Egyptian burial is in keeping with his tendency to emphasize positive aspects of a culture he wants his Greek audience to either admire (Egyptians) or understand better (Persians) in the same way he advances a negative narrative concerning those he does not seem to care for (Lydians).

In his section on burial in Egypt, then, he stays close to the actual practice in the interests of informing his readers on funerary rites but omits the deeper meaning as it might have offended the Greeks' own understanding of death, burial, and the afterlife. A reflection on the structure of the chapters in his burial passage, however, suggests he knew the spiritual significance of his topic and did address it, only obliquely.

Spiritual Significance of Mummification

The Egyptian understanding of the soul was far more complex than the Greek. The Egyptians understood the soul as being comprised of nine aspects:

Khat was the physical body.

Ka was one's double-form.

Ba was a human-headed bird aspect, which could speed between the earth and the heavens.

Shuyet was the shadow self.

Akh was the immortal, transformed self.

Sahu and Sechem were aspects of the Akh.

Ab was the heart, the source of good and evil.

Ren was one's secret name.

After death, the ka and ba needed to be able to recognize the khat in order to travel from the other realm to the tomb to receive the prayer offerings and sustenance that enabled their continued existence, and comfort, in the afterlife. The deceased needed to be remembered by the living in order for their akh to remain vibrant in the paradise of the Field of Reeds and the deceased needed to be shown proper respect upon their departure from earth for the same reason. Mummification and an elaborate sarcophagus in the image of the deceased were thought to provide for the soul in this.

The practice of mummification also served as a cleansing ritual, purifying the body of the sins of life in preparation for the soul's journey to the Hall of Truth to stand in judgment before Osiris, Lord of the Dead, and the Forty-Two Judges. Scholar Jan Assmann explains:

Guilt, accusation, enmity, and so forth are treated as forms of impurity and decay – as, so to say, immaterial but harmful substances – that must be eliminated so as to transpose the deceased into a condition of purity that can withstand decay and dissolution. Vindication was moral mummification. When the embalmer's work on the corpse was done, the priests took over and extended the work of purification and preservation to the entirety of the person. The Egyptian word for 'mummy' also meant 'worthy' and 'aristocrat'. In this last stage of the mummification process, the deceased experiences the Judgment of the Dead and received the aristocratic status of a follower of Osiris in the Netherworld.

(Chapman, 81)

If the body of the deceased was not treated with the proper care, the soul might return to earth to haunt the living, causing all kinds of problems, until that wrong was righted. Scholar Sarah Lynn Chapman notes how the judgment of the soul in the afterlife was believed to begin during the embalming process when the sins of the righteous were removed with the organs that would have been tainted by those sins, thereby making the soul's spiritual heart lighter and prepared for judgment; for the unrighteous, however, the embalming process would have been a torture as they were thought to cling to their sins and so the removal was a painful experience.

Continue reading...

[marlenacantswim]

Do you think “The Time Lord Victorious” is related to the same phenomenon where the Doctor says that if a Time Lord looked into the time vortex like Rose did, they would’ve become a vengeful god?

since the whole "as kids me and the master both stared into the vortex and it fucked him up sooo bad but not me i'm just fine why do you ask" thing is reinforced constantly during the third season, i certainly think that it contributed in the sense that it did actually fuck the doctor up despite him pretending to martha that it didn't.

i don't think it's like a lore thing as much as it is a character thing. the tenth doctor is clearly the doctor that most exudes the arrogant, egotistical, superiority complex aspect of their personality, and it's the heart of his arc, especially in season four. once we actually hit that boiling point in waters of mars, it is — quite unfortunately — rushed into oblivion (please rtd i would have loved to see at least one episode where he was going full time lord victorious god complex mode most of the run) but parts of it still persist in the end of time two parter (especially that last "i could do so much more" speech where the very last vestiges of that complex break down when he realizes that, against that logic, in his mind sacrificing himself for wilf is the only option he would ever consider) and in his final scenes as tennant where he, maybe for the first time, realizes that without trying to justify his continued existence as some favor to the universe, this whole time he really just wanted to continue being him. thus, "i don't want to go" as opposed to "the universe needs me to stay".

honestly, i like to think ten's god complex is a direct result of the unconditional love he got from rose during his time as nine, when he most felt undeserving of it. i mean, rose tyler is the most amazing person in the universe, and if SHE still loves him to the point of genocide after seeing unequivocally every single hurt and mistake and evil the doctor's capable of AND HAS DONE / WILL DO in their entire timeline, of course that's gonna give the poor wet thing an ego.

the back-breaking straw for his brief ascension in waters of mars is of course being alone. they've been alone before and still been, y'know, not the time lord victorious, but the loss of donna's friendship (and worse, the erasure of her personal character arc thanks to the memory wipe) is particularly hard on the doctor.

tl;dr i think the public school time vortex staring contest thing contributed to the time lord victorious in the sense that it was an instrumental moment for the doctor's character as a whole, and nothing much stronger than that.

[comicbookhyperfixationtime]

I gotta big question for you: what would be your pitch an animated series based on the Mighty Thor? Spare no details

Oh boy, this is a really tough one. I just have so many different ideas for how this could go!

But let's say we're looking at a typical 21 episode TV series, and lets say we're not 100% sure we'll be getting renewed for a second season. We've got two options.

Safe Option: The series is set entirely in the Nine Realms and based largely off the Journey Into Mystery/Tales of Asgard stories. Think of it as a sort of Journey to the West format, where the whole season is Thor and cast on a grand quest and each episode/two part episodes are one challenge/encounter along the way. This would give us a chance to really do some worldbuilding and show off Thor's Asgardian supporting cast, including more obscure characters. It would probably be more of a fun, lighthearted adventure, I don't mind a bit of violence or dark themes but I'd keep it on the campier sword-and-sorcerer side rather than gritty or dark.

Less Safe Option: We start from Journey into Mystery #83, when Donald Blake first acquires the hammer. The first few episodes are standard faire for superheroes, with Thor's more minor Earth antagonists (like Gargoyle and Zaniac and the like) showing up as villains of the week. All that changes when Loki makes his first appearance. After that the arcs get longer and more complex, climaxing in a battle against Loki and his forces on Asgard. There'd be a more psychological bent to this, maybe even psychological horror, as Thor goes from Dr Blakes' superhero persona to another personality with his own thought patterns dominant personality. We'd really dig into Dr Blake realizing that he doesn't actually remember any of his past before medical school, including his family and origin, and how frightening and discombobulating that is.

Regardless of which idea, there'd be some common elements. Art style would be very colorful, Asgard's aesthetics will be a solid mix of sci-fi, fantasy and a heaping dose of surrealism. There's a direct-to-video animated movie about Thor called "Tales of Asgard" and I actually really adore how clever they were with the trippy geography of Asgard, I'd draw a lot of inspo from there.

Odin will be portrayed as the abusive jackass he is. I'm not going to soften him up whatsoever, especially in his treatment of Thor. I don't think I'll kill him off regardless, but both options will show Thor slowly working towards recognizing the toxic behavior. In Option 1 it will be revealed that Thor's quest was some gambit by Odin that would seriously endanger him and/or his friends. In Option 2 it'll be Thor not only learning that Odin brainwashed him into believing he was Donald Blake, but the reason why he did it (just like in the OG comics it will be extremely petty and more about Thor asserting independence against Odin that actually needing to learn humility or whatever, although he certainly does grow as a person either way).

If the show is renewed for a second season, it will be adapting Roy Thomas' Celestial Arc, expanding worldbuilding with the introduction of the Eternals, the Celestials and the Elder Gods. It will also be the climax of Thor's arc about his relationship with Odin. When it's revealed that A) Odin had him for the express purpose of making an Ubermenschen weapon for him to use, and, B) he had in the past had Thor killed for disobeying him, then resurrected and wiped his memories.

If the show gets a third season, that season will be a loose adaptation of Len Wein's various space epics mixed with the 90s storyline Blood and Thunder (and when I say loose, I mean loose). Basically, Thor cuts himself off from Asgard after finally learning the truth and travels through space having space adventures with various Marvel Cosmic characters. Meanwhile, there'll be B plots with Thor's supporting cast on Asgard and/or Earth working out their own issues in his absence. By the end of this season, Beta Ray Bill will be introduced, and just like in Walt Simonson's run, it will be revealed that the threat to his people he was scientifically modified to face is the rapid approach of Surter and his army. The season will end on a sort of cliffhanger as Thor realizes that Ragnarok is coming for Asgard, and will have to make a choice about going back to save them. After that will be a season with less episodes but longer episodes showing the epic battle and neatly wrapping up any character arcs that haven't been wrapped up yet.

I think the show will end with Thor's "death" at the hands of Jormungand, but how exactly this goes will depend on Option 1 or 2. Option 1 will result in Thor fighting Hela similar to how Walt Simonson's run ends (the plot point about Hela cursing Thor to be easily hurt but unable to die will also be there). Option 2 will result in a death of personality for Thor, he becomes Dr Blake permanently and lives out a happy existence on Earth (depending on whether that feels like a satisfying ending or not, I'll just go with Option 1 then). Either way there's an opportunity for The Adventure Continues but a nice finale and really no need to.

If they force me to make another season I'll adapt the Evil Future Thor story from Dan Jurgens' run, but with some major changes.