#Jesus isn't buddha
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Red Flag Symbols for Christians #6
My apologies friends! I haven’t made a post to this blog series in over a month. *sigh* Real life has been keeping me super busy. It wasn’t until today while scrolling through images on Pinterest, I came across these “paintings” of Jesus…..
*It's also Holy Week and in my attempt to think outside the box for this post, I know this topic will do the job well. The entire reason for Holy Week and Easter is all about Jesus Christ, but as you read through this blog post, not everyone believes in the same "Jesus".
I bet you can totally see what I see! 😪
Just to make note, these are similar images I took of Pinterest. Majority don’t given credit to any artist or maker. They maybe AI Art for all I know, but that’s not the point of this blog post. It should very clear that there are those who think they can merge Christianity with Buddhism, and possibly Hinduism.
Jesus Christ could be easily be compared or even “representing” a depiction on Buddha, himself. The specific position and composition of Jesus in these images are mirroring of eastern religious position of traditional meditation. Basically these image are spending us the message the Christianity, Buddhism and Hinduism are cohesive. That’s is a huge, NO!!!
The last image of Jesus meditating completely suggests that Jesus IS Buddha. Here are just a few religious art examples of Buddha that are similar to the Jesus images above. Buddhism has been a prominent religion in Eastern Asia for centuries that different regions have developed their own distinct styles and looks to how Buddha appears in their artwork.
Here are more images from Pinterest that make my observation accurate. 😣
Christianity, Buddhism and Hinduism are completely far from the same religious believe; actually polar opposites on multiple levels. If you do believe that Jesus Christ was merely a human man that was a wise teacher and etc. then of course, if makes sense to compare him to Buddha. When it comes to Hinduism, my knowledge is very limited, but if I’m correct the blue skin colored “Indian” male is a deity. A deity is equal to a god. So I’m guessing Jesus is being compared or equal to this Hindu deity in the images above as well. I’m also lacking in the knowledge that it is believed that Buddha achieved godhood. I better do some more research then. Lol
Anywho….my dear brothers and sister please be alert and aware of pictorials of Jesus-like these. These image are complete false witnesses of Jesus Christ. This way of thinking is in line with the believe that all religions or spiritual believes lead toward the same destination to heaven; eternal paradise and etc.
The New Age movement in America became prominent in the 1960s & 1970s in connection to the Hippie culture. It has mainly drawn influence by many eastern religions. From my own past research of new ager, I learned they have their own formulated version of Jesus. It’s possible the same “Jesus” is the one represented in the images above. Definitely something to be aware of. God Bless & be diligent in Jesus name!
*Also most importantly, if you make studying the Bible and being in prayer/commune with God, you'll receive the knowledge and wisdom to see right through these false teaching/doctrine of Jesus. By spending time with Him, you'll learn of God's true character as you would a close friend. Then you'll know how to spot false doctrine better because they're go against who God truly is. May the Lord lead you, and keep you in Jesus name!!!
#red flag symbols for christians#symbols#red flags#warning#awareness#false teachings#abuse#jesus christ#buddhism#hinduism#new age#new agers#buddha#hindu deity#not all the same#eastern religions#in america#1960s#1970s#hippie culture#jesus art#not christian#false doctrine#be aware#Jesus isn't buddha#different religions#read your bible#be in prayer#talk to God#talking to Jesus
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Thoughts on Kirschtaria?
I love Kirschtaria lots but he isn't exactly easy to talk about. Olympus was 4 years but I still think it's too early for this post. Kirschtaria is the one who knows what the entire Animusphere plot is about. Until his final scenes, where he opens rebellion against the CHALDEAS and tries to unfold his secret plan, he's under constant surveillance by the priestess and pretty much all of his actions and speeches inform of CHALDEAS's (Marisbury's) beliefs rather than his own. A good analysis of Kirschtaria needs to wait until we know what exactly he was involved with.
The post-rebellion parts, where we get to see his past and learn about his ideals, are not easy to talk about either because Kirschtaria is too much of a straightforward hero behind his mage posturing and 5D chess. He's cheerful, accepting, driven to be productive, loves his friends, believes in everyone's inherent potential to be good, and wishes to end inequality above all.
One of the parroted Animusphere beliefs that Kirschtaria showed to genuinely believe in is the idea that humans are unequipped to immediately make the right choice but he puts a positive spin to it making we are experts in fixing mistakes later.
I don't think I can find anything original to say by explaining how his experience with Pino taught him that beauty can come from the least expected places and how much that is reflected in his relationships with Caenis and Beryl, so I guess all I got to close off this with post with is some speculative trivia that never leaves my brain.
I strongly believe Kirschtaria's characterization is the result of Nasu really wanting to write his original version of Jesus but knowing exactly how much of a bad idea it is to portray the central figure of a massively active religion. This is the same guy who made the Buddha into a boss character with no speaking roles and removed Hassan's Allah Akbar chant from every rerelease of Fsn for sensibility reasons. Jesus himself gets referenced as the Messiah sometimes but never by name. Nasu plays safe with this kind of thing.
So instead of Jesus, we have Kirschtaria. Named after the Japanese "kirishito" spelling of Christ, but written with a very unusual romanization because Nasu really wanted the English spelling of the name to contain an anagram of Christ (irscht). Then he put Kirsch through the basic Jesus plot of carrying out a major project to free mankind from its history of sin and enable everyone to do better, with the only life paid as the price being his own. And in true Jesus fashion, this ends with Kirschtaria dying by the side of a huge sinner that he personally pardoned and inspired to be better. And since subtlety is for pussies, we also get a scene where Caenis sees Kirschtaria shirtless and practically straight up says "Dude, you look like one of those Jesus portraits".
I could continue with commentary on how Pino being poor, sickly, and homeless is in line with the standard archetype of characters who appear to receive miracles in the Gospels, or how Nasu's interest in Jesus is tangible again with his next story portraying both Avalon le Faes as prophesized saviors born through special means for the sole purpose of going on a painful journey of pilgrimage fated to culminate on them sacrificing themselves to absolve the people of an ancestral sin but I think it's better not to stretch the idea too much.
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For ROR, was wondering about any headcannon or drabbles you may have of Buddha, Shiva, and Hercules as dads??
Parenting headcanons
[ PLATONIC HEADCANONS ] [ Buddha, Shiva, Heracles ]
[ Records of Ragnarok / Shuumatsu no Valkyrie ]
Buddha's part is dedicated to the simp of the four sages, i miss u 🥺
Just a cute reminder that here you are the child 🐭
My conclusion is Buddha besto father ✨✨
Buddha
Buddha is a pretty chill man and that won't really change when he becomes a father, he isn't exactly estrict and he let his child do whatever they wants, still he can get protective over you (specially with the gods)
Buddha actually loves parenting, finding pretty cute almost everything you do, specially when you were a baby, just holding you gently close to him make his day way better, and he loves seeing you grow up too
That is why Buddha can get pretty clingy to you, wherever he goes you go with him and he is always carrying you, in his arms, in his back or in his shoulders, wherever you prefer
Since Buddha used to be a prince he has received a very good education, and he will teach you all knowledge he remember along side with all that he had learn in his own
He is a really supportive father for whatever you want to do, doesn't matter is an ambitious goal or something more simple you will always have his support
Even when he let you do whatever you want he makes sure you don't forget to be respectful, you have to respect other as well as others have to respect you, even him, he tell you more than once that if he ever feel that he is been disrespectful or invase with you don't hesitant on tell him
Is for sure that you will meet the other sages too, but Buddha doesn't fully trust them to take care of you (specially in your early life) just because he knows the mess they are he is the same, but will never stop you from hanging out with them and they loves having you around, so is a win win for everyone
Buddha says that he doesn't like to brag about whatever he did, but he actually do love it and a lot but just with you because he loves seeing you amazed and proud expression whenever he tell you how he become the man he is now. And that is a negative point with the sages, because while your papa tell you amaizing stories about him the sages tell you stories about the irresponsable mess he is whenever he is with them (specially Confucious and Jesus)
The moment you start having friends with people your age or just people you like he just motivate you to go with them not really interfering, even when he doesn't seem affected by it is just matter of time for him to start to feel lonely without you around all the time (and he tells that to the other sages just to be dramatic and mess with them)
Shiva
If someone ask him about his child he normally don't say much, he acts like isn't a big deal, it isn't not like he doesn't like his newborn because he does and a lot, is just that he doesn't show it to others but he is extremely happy for this and he tent to spend all his time with his child, specially when you were just a baby
Your naps are the perfect excuse for him to be lazy, he says that he just want to look after you while you sleep but he always end up sleep too, it got pretty common to find Shiva sleep with you on top of him (sleeping too)
He won't admit it out loud but he is weak to your cuteness, whenever you do something cute (that for him is almost everything you do) he melt, leading Shiva to spoil you a lot, if there is something you want you will have it, he just can't bring himself to say not to cute little you
He grows pretty clingy to you, always wanting to hold you in his arms and play with you, but as you grow up he start to give you more freedom, not like he has been possessive is just that he loves spending time with you
He loves braging about all the adventures he had in the past and all the fights he had to become the man he is now (he may or may not exaggerate or lengthen the story to make it more exciting because he loves to see your amazed expression)
He isn't exactly estrict so is more probably that Parvati, Kali and Durga will be the ones who look after your education more. Although you are free to choose the direction your life will take once you grow up
Shiva introduce you to everyone he knows, still he is a little protective over you so if he notice that you are comfortable or someone is bothering you (even if is his friend) he will stand up for you, no matter what age you are he always will stand up for you
Once you start getting your own friends and wanting to go out without your parents Shiva gets a little jealous but he won't stop you from doing it, you have to explore the world on your own and find what you want to do
Shiva is totally the type of father that will tell your friends embarrasing stories about you because he find them cute and to mess with you
Heracles
Heracles is a caring and pretty protective father, he is mixed between wanting to protect his child from everything and anything and wanting to let them explore the world on his own
When you were just a baby he was really nervious about carrying you, is just that you were so small and tiny that he is worried that he would hurt you, it takes him a while to get used to but he end up loving holding you close to him
Heracles isn't exactly clingy but he likes to spend a lot of time with his child, and he gives you more freedom as you grow, again because he wants for you to explore and learn all you want
Also he used to carry you around all the time as a baby but as you grow he stop doing it so much for you to walk around all you want, although he will never say no whenever you ask him to carry you, no matter what age you have
Heracles will introduce you to the gods and humans he know (mainly the ones that are of his fully trust, specially when you were just a toddler), although he won't force you to get along with them, he hopes you will but won't force you if you don't
Since he is a god he will be busy from time to time so he will have to leave you with someone capable of taking care of you (probably Hermes), and, of course, it has to be someone you like and are comfortable with
Speaking of, whenever he goes out to fullfil a work he always tries to bring something for you on his way back, a gift of something he knows you will like (no matter how old you are he keeps doing it), and he always tell you the story of his adventure (avoiding disgusting details)
He isn't someone who likes to brag, but he can't say not to you whenever you ask him about the stories of all his adventures. And if you see him or tell him that he is a hero he will be so flustered by it and it gives him a lot of motivation to continue with his work
He want for you to grow up as someone caring and strong, he tell you that you should respect everyone, gods and humans, just as they have should respect you too. He won't let you be revelious but he isn't aggresive when confronting you
If you want learn how to fight he will happy to teach you (but will go easy on you since the circumstances aren't forcing you to become stronge like were when he a young human), but then again if you aren't interested on it is fine, he wont force you
#shuumatsu no valkyrie#records of ragnarok#snv#ror#snv x reader#ror x reader#snv buddha#snv buddha x reader#ror buddha#ror buddha x reader#buddha x reader#snv shiva#snv shiva x reader#ror shiva#ror shiva x reader#shiva x reader#snv heracles#snv heracles x reader#ror heracles#ror heracles x reader#heracles x reader#anime and manga#anime x reader#anime x you#x reader#x gn reader#anime#manga
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Dragons, Snakes, and the Missing Link
tl;dr The Missing Link is the Naga deity from Buddhism/Hinduism. (featuring jesus ichiban)
lowercase bc im tired today...
has anyone ever wondered how similar looking eastern dragons and snakes are?
the eastern dragon originates from china tradition, and is associated with the heavens, rain, thunder, fortune, strength and benevolence. it is also associated with whimsicality, being that the heavens and nature tend to be very whimsical when it came to the lives of people.
(originates from china, kind... of. bc theres more to this chinese origin. more under the cut)
further, it is said that should an emperor witness a dragon, they are guaranteed to be a good ruler and bring an era of peace and prosperity. this is effectively an approval from the heavens, ie, the Mandate of Heaven, and was as useful as the Divine Right of Kings argument for why rulers should rule.
its not too surprising that kiryu ends up also having a say in choosing Daigo or Terada as successors. (although he might have fucked up with terada, but Daigo became someone who is a good fit if not for the overwhelming odds stacked against him... theres also an arguement that kiryu wasn't quite Like A Dragon just yet in y1.)
so dragons are super duper important. and kiryu the character embodies what a dragon is, cool!
but then, we have... majima. who has the snake as a secondary motif of his irezumi, and i think has a secondary possible role that hasnt been pointed out yet in EN afaik
so, ive done some digging for why people think majima has the snake motif, and one possible explanation is that snakes are associated with immortality, a messenger to the heavens, which does fit majima. juxtaposed to the short bloomed sakura in his irezumi, it reads like a very elaborate art piece with layers of too many meaning, majima is fascinating. anyway.
this article goes into even deeper details why snakes are popularly paired up with the hannya mask, but are kind of vague about it:
what i want to zero in is... this word: Naga.
to understand why the dragon is linked to naga, i need to explain 2 things. what the heck is a naga, and how buddhism traveled.
what's a naga?
a naga is this.... not the guy sitting in the middle, that's buddha. but the multi-headed serpent itself:
so okay. this section is a very short summary and are worth reading more on your own, but here's the run down.
nagas are a class of serpent deity originating from hinduism. buddhism came due to a multitude of factors including rejecting hinduism's social caste system. as a result, it shares many deities with hinduism, including naga.
nagas can be depicted as multiheaded or single headed, and can transform between and in-between their snake and human form. nagas are based on cobras. in south and southeast asia, the naga is often depicted with a flap around the neck as characteristic of a cobra. or sometimes without the flap at all even.
this also means in some interpretations, nagas are as dangerous as they are benevolent/beneficial to humans (probably with the correct aptitude). this duality of good but bad if pissed off isn't at all exclusive to nagas, but in fact rather common with this sphere of deities. (sound familiar?)
in buddhism, the most well known one is Mucalinda, who protects and shelters buddha in his meditation to attain enlightenment. hence all those pictures above
interestingly, their abode is the deep, deep waters. :)
they are a very, very important deity in buddhism due to their strong and close role to buddha, but because buddhism frames gods as just other higher beings trying to escape the cycle of samsara, the nagas are seen as a protector rather than be a god to worship. cool? ok.
journey to the... far eastern japan
for how buddhism traveled, its something like this (source):
something to be clear about with this: buddhism did not arrive in japan without alteration. where ever buddhism traveled, it got reinterpreted as it moved on, absorbing local folklore and myth in the process, and then splashed about back and forth before hitting japan's shores. (but the scriptures was imported in its original form to my understanding. so the colloquial understanding is different from india's own.)
and hence why buddhism in japan is specifically called shinto buddhism: its a special blend.
with the case of nagas specifically, they seem to have entered china, and got mixed with the eastern dragon, and then passed onto korea and japan. some folklore of the dragon are also said to originally be stories about nagas, which we can see with the still present association with water and some divine knowledge.
but, the nagas by this point have lost their human form and gained bitty limbs and whiskers and claws and now soar through the skies rather than stay on the ground. or look a little goofy even.
(this dancing toothless dragon took off on douyin. i can attest to and confirm how much the chinese love goofy ass looking dragons)
in the chinese language, the sanskrit word naga was actually translated as dragon as well. hence all this mixing and remixing of things in the colloquial. notably also there was a chinese emperor known as Emperor Wu of Liang who was so fascinated with buddhism that he imported and promoted the religion, and likely appropriated aspects of the naga and mixed it with the dragon.
(i uh had to google in chinese to check and there was more than 1 article using the word dragon for naga. so nice to be a bye-lingual👍)
another important thing, japan already has their own big snake myths such as the yamato no orochi and tsuchinoko, but as for how influenced these are with buddhism is a bit of a toss up. there's definitely an exchange of sorts but its genuinely hard to tell where the line is.
so to summarize it all up
nagas are cobras to snakes to dragons.
both the chinese dragon and naga share similarities of being nasty when upset, and beneficial and benevolent to those they choose.
but, where the dragons are associated with the heavens and rain, the snakes are associated closer to the earth. both share an affinity with water.
effectively, cobras/snakes are the base for nagas, and nagas are the base for chinese dragons. so. majima's snake is like a stealth dragon.
but where the eastern dragon (kiryu) gives approval and disappears willy nilly, the naga (majima) stays and protect to the death.
meaning, kiryu is like a dragon, and majima may have always been like a dragon all along too B). theres also further theming with yin yang with these two, with kiryu being the passionate fire and majima being the naturing water. but thats a whole other detour. this post is getting long and insane enough as it is
oh, but buddhism isnt buddhism without the enlightened buddha. so while i havent played 3-6 yet i bet its this daigo guy whose name literally means Big Enlightenment.
大悟
you cant tell me hes got a irezumi of some buddhism/hinduism deity acala and have a name heavily associated with buddhist wisdom for no reason. and that he got effectively put into the position of the emperor of the kanto yakuza.
and given aaaaaall that ive written about above in regards to the intended function of these mythological deities/creatures, daigo fits the position of either emperor or buddha to a T.
now, a little personal opinion here, but it seems like RGG began rejecting the classism that comes along with the emperor system and really embraced the buddhist roots more as time goes on.
i say this bc even though i mentioned buddhism coming about partially as a rejection of the caste system, the social structure in old and current china and japan still has strong classism, rooted and continuing off old myth and religion (blame those old rulers for this). we see these in the theme of rgg and how even in the yakuza world theres a clear hierarchy, and in 7's civilian theres a clear undesired class of people.
then there's ichiban who keeps rejecting all of those judgey nonsense
ichibannnnn
interestingly theres also the bit where ichiban got handpicked by kiryu as well as a successor of sorts:
and also kiryu telling majima explicitly to support ichiban after hes gone in IW in that scene. theres also some little fun bits about how ichiban is framed as jesus christ:
and that according to some buddhist interpretation, jesus christ qualifies as Big Enlightened buddha material
so. uh. yeah.
majima is going to play a significant role in 9 i think.
idk how to conclude this but. i understand the writer and im going fucking insane as you might have noticed about 7/10 through this long post. anyway thanks for reading. become nuts with me.
#rgg#yakuza#culture#kiryu kazuma#majima goro#buddhism#buddhism? in RGG? more likely than you think#3rd ninja edit hope it works now
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Broke: Sariel is an angel so christianity is canon in Touhou
Woke: pc-98 isn't canon, Sariel doesn't exist
Bespoke: Sariel is a tengu in makai
There’s no way to make Sariel work as a tengu without making the character seem like even more of a messy product of the occult boom - and having a character named Sariel reside in makai is already basically just mashing random “esoteric” terms together at random, with all due respect for young ZUN. However, there IS a way to make Sariel true to the actual figure without necessarily having to go through the usual arguments over implications of Christianity in Touhou. I will admit that's generally a topic I'm not a fan of; I get the impression people are more eager to discuss that than anything even vaguely Buddhism-related, which bugs me. Even the Buddhist background of multiple characters gets ignored. People do it even with Okina somehow. Anyway, Sariel’s career arguably peaked not in any Abrahamic, let alone specifically Christian, tradition, but rather in Chinese Manichaean sources. Here the standard grouping of four archangels invariably includes Sariel (娑囉逸囉, Suoluoyiluo) alongside the strictly biblical Michael, Gabriel and Raphael. However, their role is defined in terms borrowed from Buddhism - functionally they are the Four Heavenly Kings. This label is actually applied to them outright every now and then (if you’re curious, Sariel corresponds to west and thus Virūpākṣa/Kōmokuten). A good treatment of the whole phenomenon can be found in Gábor Kósa’s article Near Eastern Angels in Chinese Manichaean Texts. Manichaeans had a penchant for combining basically every source they stumbled upon - you won’t find any other pre-modern religion with a canon which includes Jesus, Buddha, Ahriman and Humbaba (a distant echo of Humbaba, at least) at once. It’s essentially extinct today, and for the most part has been for a millennium or so, but in some parts of China like Xiapu in Fujian it survived well into the fourteenth century (as a matter of fact, one of the Manichaean sources discussing Sariel is that late; see here; more broadly on its late survival see here). The closest thing to a surviving Manichaean temple, Cao’an, is Buddhist today. In at least one case a Manichaean painting found its way to Japan and for centuries was presumed to be a Buddhist icon; you can read the whole story here, it’s genuinely thrilling.
Sariel also has a fair share of interesting material elsewhere: Targum Neofiti assigns this name to the angel who wrestled Jacob, for example. However, I will admit the Manichaean take in my favorite.
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Re: stars of David and kabbalah/Jewish mysticism/torah usage in east Asian media: Genshin has a bunch of it too, down to the structure of their world (it's literally called "Teyvat"). If you're familiar with it then you'll notice the further you get into the lore, world building and certain imagery (the latest blatant one being the "seal of chymical marriage").
To be honest, they get inspiration from a plethora of myths and belief systems around the world (I think they're actually one of the few games that heavily referenced Zoroastrianism for their world building) but honestly I can't tell if it's in a "respectful" way or not.
What's funny though is that some idiots in the fandom accused the devs of being Zionists because of the description on this weapon: https://genshin-impact.fandom.com/wiki/Beacon_of_the_Reed_Sea
for me? part of the fun of asian media, or foreign media in general, is that they don't have the same perspective or story telling conventions I'm used to. so if part of my intrest stems from the fact that I don't know them i think it's important to offer them similar grace (that they don't know me) in return. one of my favorite things in asian media is when a random one dimensional blond westerner shows up and looks like an enthusiastic, alien doof. that's good fun.
Asia actually has a really weird history with judaism. they killed a bunch of jews along with lots of abrahamic religious folk during various periods, but were mostly tolerant of jews as we don't convert or prosthelytize. in the current culture tho lots of asian cultures have a model minority/ low key a belief that jews do control the world but they are super into it/ fetishization of jewish culture. it comes from a place of not knowing western culture too well. i think it's fair to forgive them that if you would hope they forgive westeners who think they understand a culture, they didn't grow up in, but celebrate it. we've all seen how asian media treats angels and crosses, and we all have seen how western media fumbles asian culture. if that's fine and fun, I think it's all fine. there's a whole gag manga about Buddha and jesus as broke roommates in tokyo. that's fun.
I think that everything should be on the table for fantasy worlds, as long as it isn't hateful, implying something about a cultrue, or unfairly critical of stuff the author doesn't understand and has not done the leg work to understand. that's not misinfo, that's just remixing. anyone who thinks comics or video games or media generally is going to give you a complete, nuanced view of a religion or culture with no further research like... idk what to do with that. that person is fighting a tide of idiocy that they will either grow out of or be an idiot forever.
also... how can a character even be a zionist in a world without jews or israel, btw? zionism only requires 1. jews and 2. israel? that's some petty culture war bullshit nonsense. not fun. not playful. would not invite to my party.
i'm always a fan of appreciation and i rarely call appropriation unless it's done with a type of authority or it becomes the only way anyone can access info about a culture ie you cite misinfo as "this is X culture" or you don't cite the culture you are pulling from.
i don't think that exempts asian media from analysis or critique, but i air on the side of ignorance rather than hate or theft.
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This is True. However, the definition of "god" is so exclusive and otherwise isolated in ALL Western religions. Long ago, the Hindus..specifically the Rishis taught as did Siddhartha Gautama-the Buddha that "god" is not a being. It is a consciousness that is the Universe in its entirety. We need not worship, sacrifice animals or humans, to it nor build temples (unless on a path to enlightenment as a monk) and shrines with statues and images to supposedly reflect its existence. WE are its existence. Put another way, by the Yogi Patanjali: "The Soul does not love, It is Love Itself. It does not exist, It is Existence Itself. It does not know, It is Knowledge Itself. How to know God". Also, in the multiple versions of the Bible, Jesus points to that in a different way telling his disciples and quoting from Psalm 82:6 "Isn't it written in your Law, 'I hath said ye are gods and all children of the Most high?" ..meaning that we are all born in the universe and are part of it and we are ALL gods and exist with divine consciousness within us. Jesus was a mystic not "the" son of God , but "a" son of God as we ALL are. BTW.. this is the reason he was supposedly murdered. Because the people at that time thought he meant he was the Only son of God and no one could say that without the threat of death because of Blasphemy. All of that part of the Bible is LOST on most Christians today, just as it was during Jesus' time. I recommend this page by Alan Watts as a better explanation than I have made here. It's on YouTube to listen to or the transcript can be read.
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On Xenia, Missionary Work, and Living in a Broken World
I'm still getting used to writing these blogs, but I had something nagging at me from earlier today, I hope this essay does it justice. Long post ahead!
A friend of mine, not a close friend but still a friend, works at a sit-down restaurant and has shared difficulties with life and the service industry with me. Earlier, they shared that a Christian group visited their restaurant, ordered notably expensive food including steaks, and were not generally the best customers, but they left a $100 tip to my friend at the end of their stay.
This bill, however, turned out to be fake. On closer examination, it was a concealed note made to look like a $100 bill advertising a local Christian group, informing them that "Jesus is worth more than this bill!" followed by an ad for their congregation. Setting aside that the bill was literally worthless, as it was not worth any money, this... upset me. But let's peel back a little.
A common theme among religions is that the gods show up in the poorest of society. The concept of Xenia in Hellenic Polytheist religious belief and Ancient Greek society is built around the idea that Zeus and any other deity could appear as a poor beggar asking to sleep under your roof in the rain, or at least that they might be watching.
For those who may not see things so literally, it is still fundamentally a religious matter that humans built the world and make it what it is, even if we all still dance to the invisible tune of the Theoi and the Fates, and that we have some kind of a responsibility to build a better world from those who walked before us.
All of that is pretty common among religions, with only the details changing. Buddha lived as an ascetic with his only shelter being a tree where he had his awakening, the ancient Israelis were penniless slaves who were led by Moses who was essentially an exiled refugee, Jesus was a peasant carpenter, etc. The idea that the divine comes to our without money at their lowest is not new.
There is, however, a very toxic mentality that I have mostly observed among preaching and missionary Christian groups. It is that, because Jesus lived without money, that he is the wealth that matters. The idea being that faith in Jesus is the only thing that matters, as someone without him is damned, and the more souls you save by making them realize his supposed trueness makes you a better person by making them realize this, and possibly earns you better brownies in Heaven.
This is, however, disregarding virtually every other cultural experience in exchange for having this world view. Well-adjusted, comfortable and safe communities who worship a different god must obviously be proselytized against in this view of the world, for even the happy and comfortable cannot truly be happy for they do not know the son of your sun god if you seek conversion rates above all else in the mortal world. We have all seen this in effect.
There is a grim cowardice to this entire world view. It is a fundamental unwillingness to see the perspectives of others, to have empathy, and move your mind out of your own head. In this world view, no one who isn't you can be happy and good, all must be bent to your shape to match the perfection that you were so obviously built in.
I was raised Mormon, and this cowardice has been weaponized to an enormous degree by building entire cultural cornerstones by preaching and conversion and proselytization. Those who do not surrender vast sums of money in order to travel to strange places without friends and family purely so they can bother other people with this 'truth' that they do not want... well, to not do it makes you less than a person to the Church, unworthy of the paradise they promise you.
I in no way wish to state that sharing religion is bad. Talking to people that you know, sharing your world view, talking about what you believe, telling them about the beauty of the divine that you have witnessed, all of these I feel are an innate good. But if you see the world narrower than a pinhole, if you believe that every humans who is born, toils and dies under our sun must believe in Jesus and God in order to have a shred of value and thus seek to force it on them by any means necessary, you have perverted the entire arrangement.
Dan Olson did a wonderful documentary on Flat Earth and qAnon in which he stated that to Flat Earthers, they are not simply in ignorance of geography, but that the simple denial of truth is a weapon, a tool, in which they seek to build the world in their image by denial of facts through a force of will to build a metaphorical flat earth in which they are right and their enemies are silent. When you do not seek to enlighten, to share, to learn, and instead seek to use your will, words and resources in order to hammer anyone you ever meet into a familiar shape, to build the good little Christian paradise on Earth that is so clearly strangling those who do not see it as a paradise, you have built a horror.
And it is into this environment that the final horrors take shape. The denial of refugee aid by powerful religious organizations without conversion, the refusal of helping others without getting something in return, the clawing tendrils of rigid enforcement of religion and culture that forces people into your group for fear of leaving it, the refugees and poorest people in my city who were forcefully converted by missionaries in return for food and shelter is the final result of such a narrow world view, in viewing every human as needing to conform to you and your way. This is homousian as the horrors that have ravaged the planet for centuries, that has devastated native cultures, killed generations of queer people, and built the worst of the world.
It is in all of this that the introduction to this essay began. A Hellenic Polytheist, working a thankless job, bringing fine steaks to those who taunted them with fake money while promising that their note had the only thing of value.
What if I told you that my friend was moving away from an abusive lover or parent and desperately needed money for shelter? If they were trying to scrounge together money to pay for insulin without insurance? What if I told you they were paying for an unexpected funeral and were facing the reality of being unable to bury a loved one? What if I told you they had cancer and needed every penny to get surgery and chemotherapy?
Thankfully, they do not have any of these things to my knowledge, and were simply annoyed. But to dangle a religious truth that they are not interested in, teasing them with the money that, to the knowledge of these Christians, may have saved their lives, while taunting them that your carpenter god would cure these things for fealty like a feudal lord, is a vile and small-minded idea. That this person was likely not the sole executor of this evil and likely was simply promised by higher-ups that they were doing good, that they meant well and genuinely thought they were helping, does not decrease the horror of the world and mindset that would create this circumstance. Because next time it will be someone with cancer you yank hope away from.
I hope, dear reader, that you can extract my meaning on the purpose of Xenia, and good deeds from this, and see a small piece of the dark horror that small minds and narrow eyes can build. When Zeus appears at your doorstep dressed as a ascetic beggar, the fact that this beggar may not be Hellenic does not matter. That he may not be your color, or that he may not be healthy, or that he may be different, is not an excuse not to be kind, to think outside of your own experience, and to embrace those who need us the most. Because your $5 and your kindness and understanding to your waiter or barista or your uber driver is far, far more valuable than a pamphlet and a condemnation.
I'd like to send you off with a small story I like about the Buddha. This story is neither historical nor truly about the Buddha, but it is an enlightening tale containing a deep religious truth told through fiction, not unlike our Greek mythology:
While the Buddha meditated beneath his Bodhi tree, searching for truth and enlightenment, he peered beyond the mortal realm and saw a thief in hell who had repented and begged forgiveness. The Buddha, seeing that the man wanted to change, to come back to Samsara and to fight to be a better man, lowered a spider's web into hell for him to climb.
The Thief graciously began climbing up towards the Buddha. However, the other denizens of hell began climbing up after him, and he feared that the delicate spider's web would break and take him back to hell, so he began kicking them off. The spider's web was stronger than the finest steel and could have taken all of them, but his kicking broke it like it was thread.
Be kind, love each other, and always seek a better world.
-Lady Nikki
#hellenic polytheism#dodekatheism#hellenic pagan#pagan#hellenism#zeus deity#xenia#buddhism#dharma#spirituality#philosophy#anti capitalism#anti missionary
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Warning for brief discussion of religion
I don't know how to get what I want to say on paper, and I hope you can follow along through this possibly-incoherent analysis, but I really like how Goemon's character portrays an unconventional form of morality.
A literary technique that I think applies to Goemon is the "Christ figure" (not that I'm big on Christianity, but hear me out). By definition, and I pulled this from Wikipedia, "the Christ figure is a spiritual or prophetic character who parallels Jesus, or other spiritual or prophetic figures," such as the Buddha for example.
"In general, a character should display more than one correspondence with the story of Jesus Christ as depicted in the Bible. For instance, the character might display one or more of the following traits: performance of miracles, manifestation of divine qualities, healing others, displaying kindness and forgiveness, fighting for justice, being guided by the spirit of the father character, and the character's own death and resurrection. Christ figures are often martyrs, sacrificing themselves for larger causes."
I don't know if Goemon was intentionally written this way, but he meets many of these qualifications. One could argue that his everyday use of Zantetsuken is a miracle, but aside from this he routinely summons lightning to vanquish evil (including Jesus' evil vampire sister). Goemon very literally heals others with his natural remedies, and is essentially the team medic. He displays kindness and forgiveness, most notably in the episode where Fujiko stole his sword; although Fujiko plunged Goemon into a depression which nearly killed him, Goemon readily forgave Fujiko's somewhat-honest mistake despite the pain she caused him. Goemon is huge on justice, and will readily fight losing battles for the sake of fairness, such as when he refused to cheat against the cheating Jinkuro. There is no definite God figure within Lupin III, however Goemon does talk to the ghost of his deceased master and seems to be the only character able to communicate with the departed. No death or resurrection (yet?), but Goemon has sacrificed himself for larger causes, most notably within the torture episode where he was willing to sacrifice his life for the sake of Lupin's safety.
What makes all of this especially interesting to me is that Goemon isn't the conventional moral character. He's a thief and a criminal and one of the top assassins in the world and he started the series as a villain but despite all this he's a good person. Countless lives came to an end by his hands but he still goes out of his way to help those weaker than him. He's trustworthy despite his status. He's kind despite his history.
I don't like when morality is depicted as having never made a mistake. I think true morality lies in making the right choices in spite of your circumstances, even if your circumstance consists of being a globally-wanted criminal and master assassin.
#does this make sense?#he “bad guy” but not bad guy#lupin iii#lupin the third#lupin the 3rd#goemon ishikawa xiii#goemon
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Hi Rayne! I see your in the plotting stage of HHU judging from your memes? 💖 *insanely excited* Just curious as I know ur slowly coming out of burnout by returning to fanfic? As somesone who gets rly confused between writers block and writers burnout (I see from other posts/asks you've always refered to it as burnout not block?) could you maybe (only if u want!) share your experience & journey out of burnout as you go? I'm so stuck creatively atm and your journey has always inspired me. 😘 MWAH
Hiya Anon! 😘
I see your in the plotting stage of HHU judging from your memes?
Ha...yeah 😅...you could say that...🫠
Just curious as I know ur slowly coming out of burnout by returning to fanfic?
That is correct, my lovely. Let me take this opportunity to say it's thanks to the amazingly sweet reviewers that I've had the courage to do this after so long away. They give me the chakra with their engagement, I give them the chapters with my insanity - it's a beautiful thing. 💜
As somesone who gets rly confused between writers block and writers burnout (I see from other posts/asks you've always refered to it as burnout not block?)
Completely understandable you'd get confused between the two. For definition's sake, my personal experience with Writer's Block and Burnout is this:
WRITER'S BLOCK
BLOCK: I have no ideas. My brain screen is white noise. My canvas is blank. I can't think of any stories or characters or scenes. Its a ghost town. There are tumbleweeds. And crickets. There is a big BLOCK and nothing can come INTO my headspace/heartspace. Maybe I need inspiration. Maybe I need a muse. Maybe I need to return to stuff I love and enjoy (outside of writing) to grease the wheels and get the ball rolling again. Maybe I need to just play around a bit with WIPS or switch projects and try some creative exercises. There's not usually a bigger, neurological issue playing out here. There might be (and often is) an emotional / mental one and that looks different for different people. Maybe I can power through this and crack on (some do, some don't). It's not spilling into other areas of my life. I still have the desire to write.
WRITER'S BURNOUT
BURNOUT: I have ideas. Many ideas. My brain screen is active, but it's on mute and sometimes grainy. My canvas has the picture sketched out, but I've gone colourblind. I can think of stories and characters and scenes but I cannot connect to them or express them. It's not a ghost town, it's a burning wasteland during dawn of the dead and I am the zombie staggering around. I cannot connect to what I am seeing/feeling about the characters/stories I love. I do not have the energy, clarity, or capacity to CREATE (put on the page/screen) what I am HOLDING inside me. It's not gone or absent, I AM. I cannot connect to it. I can't THINK straight. Brainfog on STEROIDS. Apathy creeping in. There is a big BLACKNESS and nothing can COME OUT of my headspace/heartspace. Those spaces are malfunctioning. Maybe I need a brain transplant or defibrillation. Maybe I need a bit of self-care. Maybe I need Jesus / Buddha / Insert-Your-Go-To-God or Grace-Place Miracle...because turning to things I used to love isn't doing it. I can't feel anything (losing joy and love for things you used to enjoy is a big part of it). Nothing is greasing these wheels or getting this ball rolling again until I walk through the hellfire and address the pyromanic issues that set me and my world on fire (not in the good passionate way; think petrol self-immolation montage). Said issues are both emotional / mental AND physical (neurological/health related) and it's an unholy trine that needs to be addressed gently and with grace, because if I try to POWER through this wasteland I will lose so, so hard and set myself back even further. It's not isolated to creativity. It's spilling all over the bloody shop and impacting other areas of my life. I can't feel the joy or desire anymore.
TL;DR:
Writer's Block = Struggling to conceive and generate ideas, cannot get the ideas IN (inspiration, doubt, perfectionism, tiredness, often emotional/mental root causes). Doesn't usually affect other areas of your life. Desire to write is there. Tough but not severe. Writer's Burnout = Struggling to connect to writer's heart and give birth to ideas, cannot get the ideas OUT (no energy, no capacity, chronic, physical/emotional/mental root causes). Affects other areas of your life. Desire to write is gone (worst feeling EVER). Existential writer crisis. BLOODY SEVERE.
Now...
I'm not sure if that helps, luv? But from my mad ramblings you can see how I view them as completely different entities. I've experienced bouts of writer's block and I've always managed to power through it with the right approach (again, that's different for everyone) because though it was tough, I hadn't lost my writer heart. Burnout is very different. Writer heart is buried under smoking rubble. Nothing tried-and-tested for BLOCK could get me through the BURNOUT -- it's a whole different monster, way more sinister and boss-level bad. It needs a whole different treatment, and in my experience, that recovery and treatment needs to be HOLISTIC.
[...] could you maybe (only if u want!) share your experience & journey out of burnout as you go? I'm so stuck creatively atm and your journey has always inspired me. 😘 MWAH
I'm so sorry you're feeling creatively stuck. That's rubbish on fire, and I feel for you. I hope my words above gave you a little insight into my experience of burnout (in a really abstract way, sorry!). I'd highly recommend Becca Syme's work on burnout, though it's geared specifically towards writers (though artists and other creatives can definitely benefit from her YouTube series on Burnout and 'energy pennies' etc). I tend to sometimes post a few quotes and pieces on burnout, but I can do more of that if it helps other creatives?
Fortunately more and more, burnout is becoming acknowledged for creatives and not just those in the corporate world. Generating creative energy and expending it requires TREMENDOUS energy (usually joyful) at a core level. If that joyful source runs dry, it's time to find the exit wound(s) and see where the heck you've been bleeding out (hence, holistic approach for a usually chronic state) - and that is unique to each individual, even if burnout is a universal condition (paradoxically, it can look/present both similarly and very differently for people, as with most things).
I sincerely hope that you're blocked and not burntout, sweetheart (though if you ARE burntout, there is absolutely a way back from that). Either way, it sucks not to be able to create. Again, I'm not sure if anything I've shared here has helped or answered your question properly. Thanks for your patience in my lengthy response.💜💜 I have deep empathy for those who lose their creative light (not the spark, but the whole damn fire) and hence my tendency to rant on and on...I shall shut up now.
Big love and creative energy coming at you. 🥰 May the root cause of your "stuckness" be removed from you and may inspiration and JOY pave the way back to your creative spirit.💜
#writing ask#writers burnout#writers block#writing trouble#writing asks#writer life#writers block vs writers burnout#personal ask
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Fantasy Invader starts on the Claude arc! And also his racism arc!
You knew it was gonna happen. Three Hopes had Edelgard detractors showing their asses where Claude is concerned like never before, because in the end morality in Fodlan just comes down to whether a person likes or dislikes Edelgard and Rhea. I wonder how they'd react to somebody who thinks both are wrong? Oh wait, that was Claude in Three Houses, and they decided he totally came around on Rhea.
I did some researching myself, and just for once I think FI actually got some decent Buddhism symbolism in Three Houses.
To an extent, anyways. See, there's this story about how the Buddha was a golden deer king in one of his past lives, and he offered up his life as a sacrifice to a pregnant doe that was about to be slaughtered for her meat. Then there's just the ubiquitous deer symbolism of tranquility and innocence, which fits quite nicely into Buddhism. Evidently forest critters are big in imagery concerning the religion.
That's not the impression I got from the stories I read. If anything it sounded like the Buddha back when he was the deer king was already a pretty stand-up guy.
Also yes, this is going to be extremely racist. Sorry, actual Claude fans T_T
He's... not receptive to the teachings. He ends the story just as much not a follower of the Seirosian faith as he was at the start of the story. He's more faithful in general than Edelgard because he starts the story much earlier on the road of character development than she did and lacks her trauma, but he's still not pro-Seiros.
We don't, though. Claude doubts whether the church prohibits contact with the outside because it was politically convenient for him at the time: he has Byleth in VW to reform the church, and he needs the Knights of Seiros to beat the Empire.
And he doesn't personally treat Rhea as a force for good in his S support, nor does he urge Byleth to carry on her work. Note the emphasis on new values.
Also, Rhea herself admits she was a failure and a negative for Fodlan in her S support:
Uhh yup. FI went there. Before Claude came to Fodlan and learned the ways of the white people living there and got to know the white pope lady, he was a barbarian! He returned to Almyra all enlightened and learned!
Hahah, and you thought FI was only gross about Edelgard and Dorothea.
Also, the last bit about blaming other people for not liking Almyra, that's almost certainly FI complaining about Claude's battle dialogue with the pirate captain in Alois and Shamir's paralogue, which was... (sigh)
A mistranslation by fuckin' Treehouse.
In the original JP, Claude didn't say criminals like the pirates are the reason Almyrans are hated in Fodlan, full stop, but that people like them make things worse. Which they absolutely do.
Thanks to Teaspoon for this one.
(sigh) the two flags look nothing alike, you fuckin' idiot.
And no, the story of Verdant Wind is partly an infodump for stuff they didn't have in Silver Snow, but it's also the story of Claude learning to open up to and trust people. Except he still kinda doesn't since he never tells Byleth his true name or who he really is, but eh.
What Verdant Wind isn't is the story of Claude learning actually Rhea was right about everything. Because she wasn't, as she herself admits.
Yup, when Claude only knew brown-people ways he was "animalish", but he learned the ways of white folk he became enlightened!
Jesus Christ, Edelgard detractors got fucking gross over Almyra after they followed Claude to the Dark Side in Golden Wildfire.
Also as a reminder, dawn is good in Three Houses and bad in Three Hopes, even though Azure Gleam explicitly ends just before dawn:
This is a common headcannon from anti-Edelgard Claude fans, except there's... no sign of it in canon. Again, when Claude had a chance to talk about how much of an othered outsider Rhea was, he instead talks about how kee-razy her story was. Fact is, Claude never compared her to him, even after learning her backstory. Probably because Rhea's isolation was entirely self-inflicted. Contrast her against Seteth, who gets along with people just fine and has a positive relationship with both his colleagues and the students.
#fire emblem three houses#edelgard von hresvelg#edelgard discourse#edelgard positive#claude von reigen#racism#content warning#Fantasy Invader
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South Park (shortened addition aka Lore and fandom need to knows)
(I found this in my notes app, and remembered I was told it might be useful. A bit outdated because I believe there are a couple more seasons I don't have access to but do with it as you will :3)
Season 1:
Cartman gets an Anal Probe
Big Gay Al' Gay Boat Ride
Death
Damien
Cartman's Mom is a Dirty slut
Season 2:
Cartman's Mom is still a Dirty Slut
Ike's Wee wee
City on the edge of forever
Chickenpox
Rodger Ebert Should Lay Off the Fatty Foods
Clubhouses
Spookyfish
Merry Christmas Charlie Manson
Gnomes
Season 3:
Rainforest Shmainforest
Spontaneous Combustion
Tweek vs Craig
Two Guys Naked in a Hot Tub
Jewbilee
Are you there God? It's me, Jesus
Season 4:
Cartman's silly hate crime 2000
Timmy 2000
Cherokee Hair Tampons
Something you can do with your finger
Do the handicapped go to hell
Probably
Fourth Grade
Pip
The wacky Molestation Adventure
Season 5:
Cripple fight
Scott Tenorman Must Die
Cartmanland
Towlie
The Entity
Here comes The neighborhood
Kenny Dies
Butters' Very own Episode
Season 6:
Jared Has aides
Aspen
Freak Strike
Fun with Veal
Professor Chaos
Red hot Catholic Love
Free Hat
Bebe's boobs destroy society
A ladder to heaven
The return of the Fellowship of the Ring to the Two Towers.
Season 7:
Cancelled
Toilet Paper
Little crime stoppers
Red man's greed
Casa Bonita
All about the Mormons
Butt out
Raisins
Season 8:
Good times with weapons
The Passion of the Jew
You got F'd in the A
Awesom-o
Something Wall-Mart This Way Comes
Preschool
Quest for Ratings
Stupid Spoiled Whore Video Playset
Cartman's incredible gift
Woodland Critter Christmas
Season 9:
Mr Garrison's fancy new vagina
Wing
Best friends forever
The Death of Eric Cartman
Two Days Before The Day After Tomorrow
Marjorine
Follow that Egg
Trapped in the closet
Free Willzyx
Bloody Mary
Season 10:
The return of Chef
Smug alert!
A million Little Fibers
Manbearpig
Taste
Miss teacher bangs a boy
Hell on earth 2006
Go God Go
Go God Go XII
Stanley's cup
Season 11:
Cartman Sucks
Fantastic Easter Special
D-Yikes
Night of the living Homeless
Imaginationland
Imaginationland Episode II
Imaginationland Episode III
Guitar Queer-o
The List
Season 12:
Tonsil Trouble
Britney's new look
Major Boobage
Canada on strike
Eek, a penis
Super fun time
Breast Cancer Show Ever
Pandemic
Pandemic 2- The Startling
Elementary School Musical
The Ungroundable
Season 13:
The Ring
The Coon
Margaritaville
Pinewood Derby
Fatbeard
Dead Celebrities
Butters' Bottom Bitch
Whale Whores
The F word.
Dances with Smurfs
Season 14:
Sexual healing
The Tale of Scrotie McBoogerballs
You have 0 friends
Crippled Summer
Poor and stupid
It's a jersey thing
Coon 2: hindsight
Mysterion Rises
Coon vs Coon and Friends
Season 15:
Royal Pudding
T.M.I
City Sushi
You're getting old
Ass Burgers
1%
The Poor Kid
Season 16:
Reverse cowgirl
Jewpacabra
Butterballs
I should have never gone ziplining
Cartman finds love
Going Native
Obama wins!
Season 17:
Let go, let gov
Goth kids 3: Dawn of the posers
Taming Strange
Ginger Cow
Black Friday
A song of Ass and Fire
Titties and Dragons
Season 18:
The cissy
Handicar
The Magic Bush
Freemium isn't free
Grounded vindaloop
Cock magic
#REHASH
#HappyHolograms
Season 19:
All of it
Season 20:
All of it
Season 21:
Put it down
Hummels and Heroin.
Doubling Down
Moss Piglets
SUPER HARD PCness
splatty Tomato
Season 22:
Dead kids
A Boy and a Priest
Tegridy Farms
The Scoots
Time to get Cereal
Nobody got Cereal?
Buddha Box
Unfulfilled
Bike Parade
Season 23:
Shots
Let them eat goo
Tegridy Farms Halloween special
Board Girls
Turd Burglars
Basic Cable
Season 24:
The pandemic special
Season 25:
All of it
#south park#south park fandom#episode watch list#possibly useful#maybe not#please keep in mind it was made at like 3am and may have some missing because of my streaming service exhaustion etc#and may be out of date with new episodes not included
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A Drysdale Thanksgiving
Trigger warning: sick child, mentions of a chronic illness, multiple sclerosis, fluff
Summary: It's Thanksgiving, and you and Ransom have to take care of a sick child.
"MOMMY! DADDY!" screams Harlan.
You get up, and grab your cane. Ransom gets up, and you both pad barefoot to the twins' room.
"What is it Harlan? Did you have a bad dream, buddy?" You say, stroking Harlan's hair away from his forehead.
"No, but I think Katherine's sick," says Harlan.
"Why do you say that, buddy?" says Ransom.
"Katherine can't stop coughing" says Harlan.
That's when you and Ransom heard it. Katherine coughed, but it wasn't a typical cough.
You immediately feel Katherine's forehead, and she's burning up. She coughs again, and you grab a tissue. She coughs up some mucus, and you know it's bad. Ransom comes back with the forehead thermometer, and takes Katherine's temperature. When it's done, the thermometer reads 103 degrees.
"Louise, call your brother, and get dressed. We're taking Katherine to the ER," says Ransom. Katherine coughs again, and it's bad.
A few minutes later, your brother arrives. Ransom explains the situation, and you and Ransom load Katherine into the Lexus, and take her straight to the ER. You're sitting in the backseat, next to Katherine, and telling her that she'll be okay.
"Shh, shh, you'll be fine, princess. Okay, Mommy and Daddy will do everything to make you better, okay princess," you say, stroking Katherine's hair. She coughs again, and coughs so hard, that she throws up on herself.
"Ransom! Katherine's throwing up now!" You sound alarmed. You just know that Katherine is getting sicker.
"WHAT THE SHIT?" screams Ransom.
"Oh, Katherine. You must be very sick," says Ransom.
When you and Random arrive at the hospital, Ransom pulls up, and the security guard pulls up with a wheelchair. You get out with your cane, and the security guard insists that you sit in it with Katherine in your lap.
Ransom parks the Lexus, and sits and waits with you in the waiting room. When Katherine is triaged a few minutes later, she's immediately taken to the pediatric area of the ER.
The doctor and the nurses perform their exam. Katherine is diagnosed with bacterial pneumonia, and the type of bacteria that caused it is being tested for.
Katherine keeps coughing that she keeps throwing up on herself. The pediatrician and the ER doc decide to admit Katherine.
"Call your brother, Louise. Just give him an update," says Ransom.
You call your brother, and let him know that Katherine has been admitted. You the call your dad, and you explain the situation. You're expecting the worst, given that your mom's sister died from pneumonia on Christmas Day.
Ransom just holds you in his arms. You're crying so hard, asking God, Jesus, and Buddha why Katherine. You cry to the point of exhaustion.
Ransom is worried. He just wants his little princess to be okay.
"Mr, and Mrs. Drysdale, we're going to need to admit Katherine for the next few days," says the doctor. You're so tired that the words the doctor is saying aren't making sense. Plus, Random looks anxious, on account of he hates hospitals.
"Katherine has bacterial pneumonia. You did the right thing by getting her here, which is crucial in cases like this. This isn't a cold. I'll have to give her a round of antibiotics, and then I'm putting her on IV drip. That should help get some fluid in her system,"says the doctor.
"Wait, what else can be done? you ask the doctor.
"Right now, go home. Get some rest, and bring Katherine some clothes and some toys, You've done all you can. You managed to get her here," says the doctor.
Ransom explains that it was Harlan that alerted you both. You both decide to bring Harlan tomorrow. That afternoon, you would go to your brother's.
You look in Katherine's room, and the nurse is putting the IV in her.
Thanksgiving is tomorrow, and the last thing that you both wanted was a sick child in the hospital. You and Ransom see Katherine before you both go home. Instead, you both collapse next to Katherine, exhaustion taking over the both you and Ransom.
Several hours later, you both wake up in Katherine's hospital room. Ransom helps you up, but asks the nurse for a wheelchair. The nurse finds an adult wheelchair.
"Go home, Mr. and Mrs. Drysdale. Get some rest, and take a shower. You can come back later with some toys, books, and clothes for Katherine,"says the nurse. The nurse helps you in the wheelchair, and takes you to the first floor, where Ransom pulls up the Lexus.
You and Ransom return home, and sleep in each other's arms. You and Ransom wake up at 12:30 p.m. and shower together.
"Ransom, why us? Why Katherine?" You ask, in between tears.
"I wish I had the answers, sweetheart. The doctor says Katherine is going to be okay. We got her to the hospital in time," says Ransom, trying to ease your worry.
You and Ransom get dressed to go over to your brother's. You also pack some clothes for Katherine, along with her favorite stories, a book of fairy tales you had since childhood, and her Cinderella doll, her favorite Barbie doll, and her favorite stuffed animals. You both pack some coloring books, and her crayons for her. You stop at the hospital, and bring Katherine her things.
"Mommy, daddy, can you stay? I don't want to be here. I want to go home," says Katherine, who's now burst into tears.
"I know baby, but it's only for a few more days, okay, princess", you say.
"We'll come by after we're done at uncle Evan's, okay, princess," says Ransom.
This breaks both your and Ransom's heart. Nobody wants to be in the hospital, even when it's a holiday.
You head over to your brother's, and eat dinner. You visit for a while, and gather Harlan. You stop at the hospital with Harlan, so that Harlan could visit with his twin sister. Harlan and Ransom went to the gift shop, and Harlan got Katherine a teddy bear that says "Get Well Soon", and Ransom gets his daughter a bouquet of plastic flowers that's in a cute, pink vase shaped like a bear with a sun on its stomach. The bear is holding a balloon that says "Get Well Soon". Inside the vase is a bunch of plastic water beads. Harlan's bear is holding a small mylar balloon that's on a stick that says "Get Well Soon."
You, Ransom, and Harlan all spend some time with Katherine. She's still unwell, and she looks even more tired. You see that she's on another IV drip, and that she was in need of more fluids. You ask her to take a sips of some chicken broth, and she takes it. Ransom and Harlan deliver Katherine her gifts.
Ransom kisses his daughter's forehead, and tells her how big and strong she is, just like her beautiful mama. This tears you up. Ransom is busy feeding Katherine some chicken broth, and you give her sips of Gatorade.
"Blech! This stuff is too salty," says Katherine.
"I know princess, but right now, they're giving you things that are easy to swallow," says Ransom, who is feeding her the broth. Katherine's throat was sore and raw. The chicken broth is also easy to keep down.
Katherine is feeling a little better. You take the cup of Gatorade and ask Katherine to drink it.
"MMmmm, orange," says Katherine, who asks for another sip.
"I know this is good stuff, Katherine. Right now, the doctors and nurses just want you to replace your electrolytes, okay, princess," you say.
"The doctors also want you to get some nutrients in you, okay, princess," you say.
Harlan, who has been sitting on the side of the bed, coloring with Katherine, is wanting to help his sister, but feels helpless. He looks like he's about to cry.
"Mommy, what's klectorlytes?" asks Harlan.
"You know how Mommy and Daddy put gas in the car to help make the car go?" you tell Harlan.
"Electrolytes are basically the body's system of gas. Electrolytes help make the body go and helps keep the body running," you say.
Ransom is now reading Harlan and Katherine Snow White from your book of fairy tales. Eventually, Harlan falls asleep, and Ransom picks him up, and holds him close to his chest.
You and Ransom go home, but tell the staff that you'll be back first thing in the morning. The nurse says she'll keep you updates if anything happens.
You fall asleep in the Lexus, and Harlan is passed out in his car seat. Ransom takes one look, and kisses your temple. When you all get home, Ransom gets Harlan inside, and deposits him on the couch. He then comes back, and picks you up bridal style, and carries you to the bedroom.
Ransom helps Harlan into his pajamas, and helps him brush his teeth. Ransom also helps Harlan pee, and then picks him back up, and puts him in his bed. Ransom kisses his sons forehead. Harlan looks angelic as he's in a deep sleep that not even a five alarm fire could wake him now.
Ransom helps you into your pajamas, and helps you to the bathroom. He stands behind you as you brush your teeth. Ransom waits while you relieve yourself.
The next day, you all go to see Katherine in the hospital. The doctor and the nurse say that Katherine will be ready to go home tomorrow. Katherine is starting to look better, and she's feeling better.
"How are you doing, princess?" asks Ransom, who is stroking his daughter's hair away from her forehead.
"Daddy, can you take me home? I want to go home," says Katherine, who is bored from being in the hospital, and just wants to be in the comfort of her own bed. You and Ransom understand this.
"Tomorrow, princess. You'll come home with us tomorrow, okay," says Ransom. You're with Harlan in the cafeteria, and you're both eating some breakfast. Ransom is busy helping Katherine with her breakfast. You and Harlan join Katherine after you both finish your breakfast.
You, Ransom, and Harlan spend a little time with Katherine, and then leave when she falls asleep. You'll be back, later.
"Oh, Ransom. I know she doesn't want to be in the hospital, but I just want her home," you say. Ransom pulls you close, and this breaks his heart.
"I know, Louise. She's coming home tomorrow. We did the right thing, by getting her to the hospital right away," says Ransom.
You, Ransom, and Harlan visit her again that night. You leave when she falls asleep. You all go back home, and go to sleep.
The next day, you, Ransom, and Harlan are excited. You called Harlan in absent from pre-school, and you all head to the hospital to get Katherine. When you get there, the doctor and the nurses are performing their final exams. The nurse hands you some after care instructions. Ransom and Harlan are busy helping Katherine pack her clothes, and her things in her overnight bag.
"Just make sure to sit in the steam with her for a while to help loosen up her cough, it doesn't do much for pneumonia, but it will help loosen the cough up. Give her some ice cream or a popsicle to help soothe her throat. The doctor will be with you shortly to give you her prescription," says the nurse.
The doctor gives you and Ransom a prescription for Katherine's antibiotic. Her fever has gone down significantly, and she's looking and feeling better. On top of her overnight bag sits a pink and purple blanket, and a matching hand crocheted teddy bear. The pediatric ward likes to keep hand knit and hand crocheted blankets and hand knit and hand crocheted toys that local knitting circles and local crochet guilds like to make for the hospital. The blankets and the stuffed animals provided a sense of security and comfort for the kids.
Harlan is busy playing with his sister. They're playing with her dolls, and then after a few minutes, you Ransom puts Katherine in your lap, and wheels you down to the first floor lobby. The nurse helps you and Ransom bring down Katherine's stuffed bear and plastic flowers when she's ready to leave. Ransom goes and pulls the Lexus around, and you're waiting in the wheelchair with Katherine in your lap, and Harlan is standing next to you, holding your hand.
Ransom finally pulls up, and loads Katherine in her car seat, and then loads Harlan in his car seat. Ransom loads you into the front seat, puts your seatbelt on. Ransom puts his seatbelt on, and then you are headed home. Katherine has fallen asleep on the ride home, and Ransom gets Katherine in her Cinderella nightgown, and then gets her in bed. Katherine just wants to sleep in her own bed after being in the hospital for a few days. Ransom parks Harlan on the couch, and flips on the Disney Channel. Harlan falls asleep, and Ransom carries his son to his bed. The twins are busy sleeping in their beds.
Ransom carries you back into the house, and places you on your shared bed. Ransom decides to go grocery shopping and fill Katherine's prescription. Ransom comes back with the groceries, and with Katherine's medicine. Ransom gives her the first dose, the next dose will be given to Katherine after dinner.
"This stuffs icky, Daddy," says Katherine.
"I know, princess, but you need to take this until it's gone. You'll get much better once you take this, okay, princess," says Ransom.
Ransom fills the bathroom with steam, and then strips Katherine down to her panties. He then holds her close to his chest, and sits with her in the steam for a while. Katherine is already starting to feel better.
"Katherine, you're doing so much better, my big, brave girl," says Ransom. Katherine is awake, and just wants to be held and cuddled by her daddy right now.
"I'm feeling much better, daddy," says Katherine. Ransom is rubbing soothing circles on his daughter's back.
Your brother and your sister-in-law come over later, and bring a small turkey, some homemade stuffing, some mashed potatoes, and some cranberry sauce. They even bring some pumpkin pie and some vanilla ice cream, and some pumpkin ice cream. Your brother and your sister-in-law cook a Thanksgiving dinner for you guys, and you and Ransom are forever grateful.
Katherine's cousins have made her homemade get well cards, and they give her a stuffed dog that has a bright red ribbon on it's neck and "Get Well Soon" written on a silver heart .
Katherine takes her next dose of medicine, and then falls asleep after she has some vanilla ice cream. You and Ransom put the twins to bed, and your brother and your sister-in-law and your niece and nephew leave. They call the next morning to see how Katherine is doing.
Your Thanksgiving was later than expected, but it was nice. You had a sick child, and you smile lovingly at your husband. You and Ransom realize that this is nothing in the grand scheme of things. A sick child who needed to be hospitalized happens. You and Ransom got through this, you and Ransom got through you're MS progressing, and you both got through a lot more. You'll both get through a lot more.
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A day on which I reflect on my shortcomings as a parent.
Hello, dear reader. Today was a difficult day. I wish I could say that every day is a good day. I know that, when most people ask how I am doing, they don't want to know how I'm actually feeling.
I can say it was a productive day, even if it wasn't an enjoyable experience. I started on my schoolwork for English Composition 1, a few days ahead of schedule. My key to success, other than diligence, has been doing things ahead of time. The floors were picked up and swept, the clothes folded, and I patched my jumper and a unicorn-puke-colored dolphin that my daughter received on her last vacation with her papa. I also finished up the next weekly spread for my bullet journal.
The negative side of the day is on behalf of the children, unfortunately. I know that, when I had the kiddos, I signed up for whatever difficulties will arise. This isn't another parent griping session, I promise. My kids are both sweet, imaginative souls. Today just wasn't their day. I found myself hollering a lot more than I would like. I'm not so much upset at them as much as I am upset with myself for how I handled it all. The whole thing set me off for the rest of the evening until I just ended up crying silently in my chair. I choose how I react to things in my daily life. I know that an adult must respond, not react, but I ended up reacting anyway.
There is a book at church about the beautiful mess of childhood and parenting, and I may borrow it. All the books I've ever picked up there have been fantastic. There was one about personal growth, and how our biggest changes happen in the darkness. It's called, Learning to Walk in the Dark, by Barbara Brown Taylor. There is an LGBTQIA+ devotional that is beautifully written. I picked it up on Pride Sunday, along with a book called Why Did Jesus, Moses, the Buddha, and Mohammed Walk into a Bar? by Brian D McLaren. I haven't gotten that far into the last one, but it has been rather lovely so far.
I hope you'll pardon me. I don't much like talking about religion as it is a sensitive subject. Honestly, talking about it in the last paragraph makes me feel like some cringy Bible-thumper, even if I know that isn't the case. Please know that, no matter your religion-or absence of religion- my page will always be a safe place for you, reader.
As always, thank you for reading. I hope your evening is a beautiful one!
Love,
Natay
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I love this. It's so accurate to Jesus as well, because despite Buddha being like "bro that guy is an actual criminal," Jesus regularly would just talk to anyone just cause. Like bro didn't give any judgment if you were simply vibing, love this accurate representation of Jesus. I mean besides obviously looking more Japanese than middle eastern. Which arguably isn't a bad thing because Jesus is often depicted as the race/culture of the people worshipping Jesus in general.
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Loki's Boxing Match With the Grim Reaper, or Don't Drag Underage Girls to Jotunheim, Samael
Why did I draw Loki like a dorito. Written in like, eleventh grade for my terrible Twilight phase
“SHANNON!” came a tumultuous roar as the doors slammed open, disturbing the tranquility of the stained glass hall. They slammed behind Samael with a force great enough to shatter the windows, and I watched in terrified awe as the glass came crashing to the floor in his wake. Aym hightailed it out in a puff of smoke and I was left alone, trembling as I clung to the seat. The marble cracked at his thunderous footfall and the bench split right down the middle. I yelped, leaping up only to be buffeted by the onslaught of his fury, which would make a hurricane blush in shame. Wild winds tore at me, ripping my dress to shreds, and I screamed in rage, staring the inferno of a man straight in his maddened eyes.
“Stop throwing a temper tantrum!” I screamed, hurling a piece of rubble at him. The wind blew it back in my face. I ducked, crouching on the ground, and realized Samael was beyond reason. His features were contorted into a mask of rage and his Adonis-like perfection was heavily tarnished by tongues of hellish flame. The red carpet behind him shriveled to blackened ash. The hall was all but melting in on itself, beams crashing to the floor as rainbow hued molten glass pooled down the wall.
He grinned madly, the kind of smile serial killers wore when they pressed their blade to your neck. Only he was carrying his freshly sharpened scythe, slashing at the air as if in preparation.
“What are you doing, you lunatic?” I yelled, running away as the air grew unbearably hot.
The gleam in his eye could make Genghis Khan weep. “Disciplining you,” he said with the voice of the tempest. He roared with laughter.
“Hell no!” I shrieked. “You're the Devil! Save me! Jesus, God, Buddha, heck, somebody!” I cried out insensibly, sprinting as fast as my legs could carry me. I choked on the smoky air, flesh turning cherry red. I clutched at my throat, collapsing against a wall. “You idiot, I can't breathe! I'm going to die!”
“That's what you wanted, isn't it? You'd rather be rotting in the ground, free of me- you said,” he spat mockingly, towering over me. I gagged on the burning air. “Well well, maggot,” he hissed, crouching on his knees and bringing the edge of his scythe to my cheek. “Looks like you get your wish.”
“I hate you!”
“Silence!”
“You're a psychotic pompous asshole! A psycho-pomp!” The blade skirted my neck as it clashed to the floor. He pinned me to the wall, breath ragged as his eyes bored holes through my skull.
“I should have reaped your species in the bud just to prevent you from ever being conceived,” he spat. “You foul, troublesome, air-brained idiot!”
“I can't- breathe,” I hacked, vision turning black.
“You, Shannon, are more trouble than you're worth,” he mused darkly, groping me as if surveying my potential value. I would have insulted him, had I not been hacking my guts out, but he took no notice, slipping his hands under my bra and massaging my breasts. I sighed exasperatedly, then choked on my sigh- if such a thing was possible.
“You're the bane of my existence, actually,” Samael realized, smirking as he sucked on the hollow of my neck. He breathed slowly across my skin, whispering into my ear. “So breakable. You have no right to be so saucy.”
The world dimmed around me, senses dulling as my mind existentially bled.
His hands dug into my poor derriere, fangs pressing into my breast. “Choose, maggot,” he ordered, eyes narrowed as he smirked. “Death, or me.” I gasped out in pleasure as he did something that elicited certain sensations, which my brain, in its hazy state, was unable to recognize at the moment. Pleasure and pain mingled in an unholy chimera in my mind.
“Stop...” I whispered, pleading. He howled with laughter.
“Life, then? Me?” he sneered, the inferno of his fury disappearing in a heartbeat. The fiery air and raging winds retreated to the depths of his mind, and I was left traumatized in the arms of my grinning abuser.
I felt healthy as an ox- it was all his god damn illusion. I gasped for breath. “But you are death, you idiot! And my clothes,” I said glumly, voice hoarse. “You've destroyed them again.”
“You provoked me.”
“I ran away from you! I tried to avoid conflict altogether. How is that provoking you?”
“You provoked pursuit. I can't resist a hot and bothered mess, Shannon. You should know by now that's one of my fatal flaws.”
“Hot and bothered doesn't literally mean a woman who's about to roast and bothered personally, by you, to the point of insanity- Aaah?” I moaned. “Stop it! I'm trying to talk here!”
He stalked away like a scorned panther. I scampered after him. “You know I can take you whenever I want, maggot-
“Yes, I'm fully aware of that-”
“And that the only reason I listen to you is because I'm feeling particularly generous today-”
“Oh please!”
“And that I could crush you to my will and force you to submit to my scythe, if I so desired-”
“I think you need a straitjacket and Thorazine drip.”
“And that the only thing standing between that delectable situation and your current state is how long my generosity lasts. So I'd suggest you behave yourself accordingly, smile nicely, and refrain from embarrassing me in public again.”
I turned on my heel, glaring up at him. “You're already the butt of Hell's jokes, Samael. Don't blame mefor your reputation.”
He hissed. “I am Lord of Dis, you festering wound!”
“Yeah? Well don't you have more important things to do, Mr. Dis, than harassing humans? Huh?”
“Silence, you wretch.”
“Get out of my way, Corpseboy- I'm going home!” He looked at me witheringly. “I mean, I'm going- I'm going somewhere, and that somewhere is away from you!”
“You won't last a second without me, fool.”
“That's a second longer than I'd last with you.”
“Who's kept you safe? Who watches over your simpering ass like some eternal babysitter? You give me etheric aneurysms, you shrew! Hear that? Etheric aneurysms! They aren't pretty, let me tell you-”
“Let go of me!”
“I love you! Do you know how disgusting that is? Do you know how much I loathe myself for it? All these warm, fuzzy feelings,” he whispered hideously, clenching me against him. “They're atrocious,” he said disgustedly, sticking out his tongue. “Utterly horrid. I'm going to become bulimic and vomit these wormlings up.”
“Wormlings? You're going to puke up your feelings, Samael?”
“You wouldn't understand,” he said venomously. “You're a blob of flesh, gross and material. That I should have affection for you- it's putrid.”
Anger welled up inside me. “Oh, repulsed by me, are you?” I howled. “Then why are you groping me! Get your filthy corpse hands off my gross, material flesh, 'kay? Then explain to me what demented psychology occupies your pathetic excuse for a brain!”
“I can't help it,” he moaned, hands roving my gross, material flesh. “It's like sex- so crude, so carnal, and yet so exhilarating. I'm like a moth drawn to a flame,” he sighed wretchedly, staring at my breasts. “And while I can easily hate your face, Shannon, I find it hard to hate these. They don't talk back to me. In fact, they seem to be encouraging me to-”
“I said unhand me, you psycho-pompous bastard.”
“Shut up, maggot. I'm not talking to you. Look- they're inviting me in, just begging me to-”
“Eff you!”
“Yes, eff,” he said smugly. “Thank you, Shannon, for interpreting. I believe they want to eff me.”
“...”
He grinned evilly at my repulsed expression. I wondered silently which love god I'd pissed off. What kind of atrocious deeds did I do in my past life to deserve this kind of karma? I must have been one of those raping-and-pillaging Viking dudes who, although undoubtedly cool, led lifestyles that resulted in karmic whiplash. Maybe I'd been Alexander the Great! What would he do in a situation like this?
Samael howled as I kneed him where the sun don't shine, a particularly sensitive, at the moment altogether engorged area- oh god, I just thought that, didn't I?- that, despite his immortality, was bound to cause him pain. In an altogether un-Alexander fashion, I blushed as I ran away, making sure to snatch his robe to clothe myself with.
Sure, I hadn't been a virgin before last night, but this was Corpseboy. As in the Grim Reaper. As in ew, no way did I want to acknowledge the fact that- that I'd done it with-
Ugh.
“My cloak, you wretch!” he howled. I skedaddled out of the charred remains of the hall, vaulting over burnt wooden beams and alabaster rubble.
“You don't deserve to have it!” I crowed, struggling futilely to open the door whose bolts had melted and cooled into a warped metallic mess. I cursed, turning to see Samael staring at me oddly, as if he were drunk, head tilted to the side. “What?”
“I rather like the look of you in my raiment,” he said contemplatively.
I face-palmed myself, groaning as I returned his hungry gaze with an exasperated one of my own. “You're buck-naked, you know. Take pity on my burning eyes and put your pants back on, will you?”
“They're only burning because of my divine musculature and peerless form. Your simple corneas can't take in such majesty.” He fanned out his wings pompously, posing like a Michelangelo statue.
“Now my eye sockets are incinerating.”
“With desire, I'm sure.”
“Pants, Samael! My life shouldn't be this X-rated.”
“You let me into your life. Thus, it is your fault.”
“You barged in! I only let a toe through the door, and you shoved on through and proceeded to set up shop in every room available.”
“All it takes is one toe. You've no one to blame but yourself.” He punched through the door, carelessly stepping through the shattered wood and beckoning me onwards. I begrudgingly followed, inwardly relieved he'd summoned a smart-looking suit and blue suede shoes underneath the cloak that had mysteriously disappeared from my shoulders. I found myself wearing a low-cut, flouncy white dress and red flats, wondering if Samael was gay. Men, divine or not, did not have this kind of fashion sense. It was perhaps his only redeeming quality.
Besides those yummy abs.
Shut up, hormones! But I had to agree.
“You're talking to yourself,” he informed me, amused. I blushed a further scarlet.
“Am not,” I muttered, stalking after him. “Where in the blazes are we going?” I diverted my gaze from the perplexed demons staring at me like I was an unnaturally large fly, unsure whether to squash me or let me zoom drunkenly by in all my mutant glory. Samael probably deterred the squashing instinct, and he murmured casual hellos to his associates , utterly ignoring me. I felt like his particularly reluctant, foul-tempered shadow- if shadows blushed beet-red.
We arrived at a narrow corridor whose open windows allowed ivy to grow in, covering the walls. The flagstone floor crumbled to stones as we walked onwards, the remnants caught in dirt and a sudden carpet of greenery. I gasped to see a miniature waterfall pouring down the moss-covered wall. The hall itself finally gave way to thick trees knotted together to form living walls. Samael said nothing, continuing onwards- I brushed the side of his shoulder, catching his attention. He glanced over his shoulder lazily at me. “What, maggot?”
“This place is beautiful,” I said, “but where are you taking me?”
He grinned roguishly. “To your babysitter. We're passing through the Summerlands now.”
“That sounds like a Florida retirement community. Are you putting me away in an old folks home?” I asked suspiciously. “The only one that needs a warden is you, anyways,” I added as an afterthought, trailing my hand across leaves of springy ferns.
“I, unlike you, don't have the disposition of a crotchety old lady. You give Michael a run for his money.”
“But Michael's a man.”
“That doesn't prevent him from undergoing eternal menopause.”
“Okay, look Corpseboy- that's just gross. I don't care how much you hate your twin. I think you're just jealous of him.”
“Utter falsity,” he hissed, then added quite pleasantly. “Do you want me to wring your neck?”
“You wish.”
“Actually, I do.”
I ignored him, storming ahead. Golden sunlight streamed down through patches in the canopy where the leaves parted to reveal crystal blue skies. I took a deep breath, inhaling the rich scent of earth and sweet flowers born by a sudden breeze. I raised my brows, turning to him. “This place seems an awful lot like the Border,” I said.
“It's a vast part of it, actually- the land of the fey is intertwined with Earth.”
“Fey- you mean fairies? Crap.” Ironic or not, I hadn't had very good experiences with the Good People. “Why the heck are you bringing me here!”
“To be babysat. It's the safest realm in immediate reach, relatively speaking.”
“What?” I demanded, infuriated. “You're abandoning me in La La Land and leaving me prey to carnivorous fairies?”
“See?” he sniffed. “That's why immortals don't like you- you demean us and still, after all this time, refuse to take us seriously.” He noted a gap between two ash trees and slipped through. I followed him into a poppy laden glade that bordered a rushing stream. A worn dirt path twisted along it into a grove of dark fir. The air coming from the dense copse of fir and thicket was chill. I watched in awe as the summer heat fled as I headed down the dark path after him, my breath fogging on the wind.
“Welcome to the Iron Wood,” he said.
“Iron? But these are pine trees-”
“No, it's their mythological name,” he said shortly, as if it was something every nose-picking toddler knew. “The hall you just left branches out into different parts of the Beyond. I built it to follow the paths of the World Tree's shadow. It makes commuting between realms a hell of a lot quicker...”
The woods grew subsequently darker and creepier, living up to their name. My dress snagged on thorns and my hairs stood on end- whether from the horror movie atmosphere or the cold, I couldn't quite tell. “You can't just leave me here with bloodthirsty fairies-”
“There aren't fairies here, Shannon; you're in the Norselands now,” Samael said, perturbed. “We're fetching Puck from Loki's house party. The louse must've lost his cell phone- he isn't returning my calls. Hopefully he's not drunk to death on mead- I need that goat now,” he said darkly, looking at me disapprovingly. “Otherwise there won't be any other volunteers willing to be saddled with you. And I can't babysit you all day...”
“Babysit me!” I cried in indignation, launching at him with outstretched fists. He blocked my blows easily, locking my wrists in his iron grip. I scowled up at him. “You're the thorn in the side of the universe, Samael,” I spat. “You're the one that needs managing.”
He grinned maliciously, amused by my anger. “That's why I'm a trickster, Shannon: I get away with lousy behavior. It's in the job description: spreading glorious entropy throughout the worlds.” He tugged me after him. I refused to budge, roiling with fury. He promptly hauled me over his shoulder sack of potatoes-style.
“This is demeaning,” I said darkly.
“Associating with you demeans me.”
“You forced yourself upon me!”
“You forced me to.”
It went on like this until we reached a clearing- the woods sloped down, revealing moss covered rocks and a granite cliff face that sloped sharply downwards to a darkened valley. The scent of woodsmoke and roasting meat wafted upwards with all the sounds of a good heathen party stirring down below.
“Loki must throw really good feasts,” I said, stomach rumbling with the enticing promise of roast boar. I hadn't had breakfast, after all.
“The best in the universe,” Samael said, almost envious. “Yet he never invites me...”
“No one invites you to parties, remember? You're kind of the death of them.”
“Silence, maggot!” Samael snapped, dropping me. I landed in a semi-collected heap on the ground, wincing as I scraped my bare hands on the rough stone. I scampered down the path after them, winding past boulders on narrow toe paths and nearly falling to my death several times. We hiked in uncomfortable silence- Samael seemed to be brooding over the absence of his invitation to aforementioned party. I, however, certainly didn't blame Loki. I'd take Puck over Corpseboy any day.
Finally reaching the scree-covered bottom, the path winded through a hearty meadow dotted with late-blooming flowers and speckled with frost. I breathed in the chill, piercing air- it was like being zapped with an infusion of caffeine, sparking all my senses to alert. Harp music accompanied raucous singing in the huge oak hall. Samael motioned for me to stay back as he approached the imposing mahogany doors. Nordic designs were carved into it- wild patterns of wolves intertwined with lightning and a huge, golden serpent. A rather drunk looking giant acted as porter, glaring groggily down his nose at Samael. I shrunk under his glare, watching as the sun was blotted out as Samael amped up his size to that of Loki's kin. Feeling increasingly like a doll in the hick parts of Wonderland, I trailed after Samael warily, smiling up at the groggy giant in an attempt at civility. Apparently approving of my form, he winked lasciviously, then burped so loud he rumbled the ground. Samael growled possessively, giving the giant a withering gaze. The porter mumbled apologies, opening the door and motioning us in.
Lady Gaga pulsed through the rustic building, but the party fell dead silent as Samael entered the room. Several glasses crashed to the floor and dark whispers erupted across the hall.
“Who invited him?” a female voice boomed disapprovingly. The room burst into a din of laughter and dark grumblings. I couldn't see much past Samael's giant shadow, but saw hearth fire bathing the trendy interior. Gag posters and gaudy knickknacks lined the entrance, displayed proudly on shelves over the immortals' shoes. Pictures of Loki's monstrous family grinned- or snarled- back at me. One showed him and his wife Angurboda during Border-style Halloween- Angurboda was dressed as a fierce Leia, looking as if she'd been goaded into it by her spouse, who she glared at. Loki Skywalker, ignorant of his wife's irritation, grinned wickedly into the camera. And Fenrir, as far as I could tell, was supposed to be Chewbacca.
Something cold and incredibly large sniffed me. I yelped, jumping back, to see a wickedly beautiful wolf grinning back at me, licking his lips as his tail slashed sword-like through the air. My terrified face was reflected in his glacial blue eyes, and breathing sharply, I slipped quickly into a low bow, breaking his fearsome gaze. He yipped with laughter.
“Fenrir,” I said quickly. “It's an honor to see you again-”
“White meat!” he snarled with laughter, air shifting around me as he slipped into his oft-neglected human form. “Get up, off your feet,” he commanded. I did, trembling as I looked into his mad blue eyes. He smiled like a lion, thrusting a bowl of peanuts at me. “Eat!” he snapped. “Make merry!” He grabbed a handful of the finger food in example, shoving them down his throat and howling with laughter as I looked at him in fear. “What?” he asked, lumbering form crouching down beside me, a hunter's gleam in his eye. Fenrir panted in amusement, tongue lolling over his lip. “Wolf got your tongue?”
“N- no!” I stuttered, looking to see Samael had vanished, gone storming through the crowd apparently in search of Puck. I, meanwhile, was left to entertain the wolf, which I was apparently succeeding in. Why was it gods got kicks out of terrified mortals? Or maybe it was just the deities I hung out with.
He sniffed the air sharply, then looked at me with bulging eyes. “What's this?” he asked loudly, catching the room's attention. The Viking din grew a tad quieter. Fenrir's chest rumbled with laughter. I shifted uncomfortably.
“What?” I squeaked.
He sniffed again, leaning in until his nose brushed my forehead. I recoiled, trembling. Fenrir had me trapped like a hare in his paws. “You,” he sang gruffly, like a chain-smoking wolf howling at the moon, “smell like a rutting!”
I balked. “A what? What's a rut?” I babbled, confused and mortified. The crowd burst into raucous laughter, and Fenrir thwacked the ground with his foot in mirth.
“I didn't rut with anything! I don't know what rut is!” I protested.
“Woah-ho-ho!” came a rich voice that could charm the pants off you, had it tried. I froze, dreading the owner's approach. Loki grinned down at me, flame hair almost as bright as his cunning smile. I felt a blush spread across my cheeks as the trickster pinned me with his mischievous green eyes. “Who invited the Midgard to the party? Hey! Whadda you know. Looks like she's gonna drag us up a realm- I haven't had a mortal here in what, eight days? Yeesh. She does stink, kid,” he said, scratching Fenrir's head affectionately. His son instantly transformed back into a wolf, tail wagging as he looked up proudly at his father, presenting me as if I were a rat he'd dragged back to the house as a present.
Loki scrutinized me, smirking. “Rut, my dear, is what I'm known for. What a rut is is whatever rut will be, am I right?” he asked the audience. The crowd cackled with laughter. I continued looking up at him in confusion. Loki's grin fell a bit, as if he were disappointed by my daftness.
“I lost you at Midgard,” I said faintly, backing away slowly. Could I escape through the door? But I hadn't gotten any roasted boar yet- bummer.
“No, nay, and no way, Midgarder,” Loki ordered. The doors banged shut before me. “No one leaves my party unsatisfied, and that's an order. And you, clearly, are in a tizzy. Nothing a little mead can't fix, eh, love?” A glass of beer appeared in my hand. I fumbled with it in surprise. Loki winked, then looked at me pensively. “Must've been a lousy rut, if you're so disenchanted.”
Someone cleared their throat angrily behind him. I looked past Loki to see Samael glaring daggers at the both of us. I glared back with claymores.
Loki noticed the tension between us, and cackled approvingly. “Definitely one hell of a rut,” he whistled lowly. “I'd rather wake up next to Thor than that eyesore. A shame you survived, really, Midgarder,” he said with sympathy. “Now you're saddled with this,” he snickered, motioning to Samael carelessly. “I'd wish you luck, love, but you're beyond that. H'oh well, blame the Norns. Cheers, then, to your doom? Dunno,” Loki said, summoning his own glass, clanging it against mine, and drinking deeply. He sighed contentedly, unaware of Samael's venomous gaze. “Even ruts can get you stuck in a rut, I suppose.”
I looked at Samael helplessly. “Is he talking about a ditch?-”
“Shut up,” Samael hissed down at me. He unfurled his clenched fist, revealing a rather frazzled Puck. Puck cursed darkly, gnawing at his thumb.
“Fie, unscrupulous wretch!” Puck howled. “Spoiler of wine and fun! A rot upon you, Lord of Filth-”
“SILENCE.” And with that, Samael flung Puck to the ground. Puck scampered over to my side, hissing. I drank the beer in exasperation.
“What-” I inquired between mouthfuls, “is a fricking rut?”
Puck's eyes bulged as he looked at me, snatching the beer from my grasp. He took a sip, belched, and paused, sniffing the air in amazement. “Hah?” he said incredulously. “A maidenhead snatched on death's bed?” Next, he was collapsed on the ground, rolling in fits of laughter. Samael looked like he was about to explode stick-of-dynamite style while I turned red hot like a chili pepper.
“You mean...?” I squeaked. I looked at Samael for help. He'd pulled his hood over his head, hiding in its shadow, arms crossed defiantly. His form was shaking in anger.
“YOU SNIVELING GOAT!” Samael roared, so loud the ground shook. “HOW DARE YOU MOCK ME?” In an instant, he had Puck pressed against his scythe's blade, his hairy rump to the wall.
Puck brayed with laughter. “Aye! The kiss of death is a bitter one. No wonder your wench has such a pallid cast to her maidenish head. A maidenly head I'm sure you delighted in, no doubt indeed-” Puck gagged as the scythe was forced upon him, struggling beneath it. “This is why you're nay invited to festivities, ne'er do well!” he brayed. “You're the death of them, cankerblossom! The very rain of party rot!”
Samael was disintegrating now into something that resembled an angry storm cloud. I scampered away as the air around him became ice cold. In an instant, Puck was shrouded in darkness as Samael's thunderous roars echoed through the room. The giants, meanwhile, were laughing hysterically, watching as Puck was swept up helplessly into the storm of Samael's fury.
Loki grinned in amusement, then eyed me with pity. “This morning after's forecast is a bit stormy, eh, kitten?”
I turned chartreuse. “Please don't talk with me about this,” I murmured, gazing down at the ground in shame, a shrinking violet amongst the giants.
“Aww, kitten!” Loki said, patting me on the shoulder congenially as we watched bits of Puck's fur blowing about in Samael's discarnate wrath. His tortured screams came from within. “All couples have their quarrelings. Even the gods.”
“We're not a couple!” I protested, meeting Loki's amused eyes. “We just had unresolved sexual tension. I'm never touching Corpseboy again.”
Puck hit the floor with a thwack. Samael stared stonily back at me, cloak of shadows writhing furiously. “WHAT?” he demanded acidly, temple throbbing. He sliced across the room towards me.
“Yeah, but that doesn't mean he won't touch you,” Loki said slyly.
“Oh crap. Is there somewhere I could hide?” I said quickly.
Loki laughed riotously. “Ah! Lover's quarrels-”
“-we're not lovers, gag-”
“-of course, Midgarder! I'm the master of disguise. Quick- follow me, run, like the wind!” Loki howled, roaring with laughter. He grabbed my wrist, and next thing I knew I was whisked away down his great hall, followed in hot pursuit by Samael.
“Loki, drop the maggot. She is mine,” Samael boomed.
Loki cackled. “Hah! She's no one's but her own wild will's, which somehow unfortunately led her to you. What strange paths fate takes us down, eh, love?”
I nodded dizzily, clinging to the god's hand for dear life.
“Shannon, this is ridiculous!”
“You're ridiculous!” I crowed.
Samael roared in fury, overturning tables in his pursuit. “That's it,” he said cuttingly, cursing as he stubbed his toe on a drinking horn. “YOU'RE COMING WITH ME, MAGGOT. I'M CHAINING YOU TO MY BED AND BREAKING YOU IN,” he said darkly.
“You were trying to dump me on Puck, you asswipe!”
“A fate worse than death, or is it? The Grim, or the goat?” Loki posed wryly.
“Loki Lie-Smith, I will bind you to the depths of Sheol if you do not unhand her now.”
Loki pivoted to face Samael, smirking. I landed on the ground dazed, struggling for balance. Snickering, Loki gave Samael an appraising gaze. “Sorry, eyesore, I can't hear you through your whining drivel. Oh what's that? Bonds now? Can't say I've ever had any trouble breaking free of those, though I am prone to rope-burn.”
“LOKI,” Samael roared. The ground shook melodramatically.
“SAMAEL?” Loki retorted, voice like thunder. He grinned reassuringly at the startled crowd.
“Give me the girl,” Samael seethed.
He was kinda hot when he seethed, face razor-sharp and muscles rippling threateningly- Oh my god estrogen, shut the hell up!
“Or what?” Loki mocked. “I won't just hand her over. I need to be bribed.”
“Huh?” I asked, confused.
“That's right!” Loki sang. A golden chain appeared from nowhere, shackled to my wrist and held by the trickster god. He grinned widely, jangling it so it clanged. “Ah, just like a cat toy, eh, kitten?”
I glowered. Samael groaned. “So Samael?” I said, exasperated. “Am I worth a bribe?” Hopefully, no.
Death glared back at me, growling. “The girl. Now.”
“Uh uh uh, bro. Bribe. B-R-I-B-E. That's how us immortals work. You scratch my ass, and I don't burn yours for shits and giggles. Not that you really have one. Flat as a coffin, you angels.”
“What do you want? The goat? Take him, by Ashtaroth's ass. I loathe the idiot,” Samael rumbled darkly.
“Ix nay on the walking rug. How about that shiny scythe of yours, eh, eyesore? That'd look pretty nice on my wall, don't you think? Match the décor.”
Samael's eyes bulged. He trembled with barely restrained rage.
I rolled my eyes. “Drama king,” I muttered.
“So, Walking Dead, what'll it be? How about that dog of yours? Fenrir'd get along well with the hell mutt, don't you think?”
“CERBERUS IS MINE.”
“Sweet baby Balder, this guy just doesn't have a sense of humor, does he?” Loki asked.
I shrugged apathetically. “Gallows humor. That's about it.”
“I'm right here, maggot,” Samael spat, fuming. Smoke rose from his nostrils with each angry exhalation.
“I know,” I said venomously. “It's kind of hard to not notice someone with such atrocious behavior as you.”
“I'll lop your tongue off with my scythe, worm.”
“I'll castrate you, you psycho-pompous asshole.”
“Bite your words, you wretch!”
“Shove that scythe up your ass, Corpse-breath!”
“Children, children!” Loki commanded, holding up his hands in peace. “I think we need to reel in our tempers, eh? Burn coolly- fire's a wonderful thing, but it make a wrecka things when it's uncontrolled.”
“I will not be admonished by a man that gave birth to a horse,” Samael snapped.
“Oh, touchy now, are you?” Loki mocked. “Did I strike a dead nerve? Point out your fatal flaw?”
“I'll wring you out to dry in Gehenna, Flamehair!”
“Bring it on, Snakey! I'm charming as they come, so a snake-charmer I will be!” He cackled. Suddenly, the room around us melted, replaced by a boxing ring. I reeled backwards onto the cold arena floor, finding myself chained to a corner. Loki wore red boxing shorts and gloves, his hair spiked into a flaming mohawk. “WOO!” he howled. The giants, now transported to the stadium and apparently loving every minute of it, roared on their chief. Loki mooned the audience, sticking out his tongue at Samael, who continue fuming in the opposite corner. Puck had somehow changed into the ill-fitting outfit of the referee. He blew on his whistle, cheeks turning red. Loki punched his fists together, shaking his derriere and baiting Samael. “C'mon, Snakey!” he crowed. “Slither on over and get the girl.”
Samael fixed him with a withering gaze. Loki simply turned around and mooned him. “C'mon, holy boy. Y'know you wanna piece of this.”
Puck passed me a bucket of popcorn. I munched on it in shock, appalled at the ridiculous turn my life had taken. Was my life horror, or comedy?
Black comedy. Definitely that. Loki continued shaking his thang and, when that failed, went back to taunting the Reaper. But the Reaper would not be baited.
“Loki, I'm not a morning man. I haven't even had my damn coffee yet, because Little Miss Sunshine over there ruined even thatfor me,” Samael said darkly.
“Hey! You screwed with my omelet! That's twenty billion times worse-”
“SILENCE, MAGGOT.”
“I'm not fly larva, you asshole! I'm Homo Sapiens, okay? Get the frigging genus right.” I watched him for any signs of remorse. None whatsoever, of course. “Now either get me or your pale, non-existing ass out of here. Otherwise I'm moving in with the giants. They treat me way better than you ever have.”
“Only because they find you amusing. You're like a monkey with cymbals to them.”
“Yeah, but to you, I'm a personal punching bag. I'd say monkey with cymbal is a step up.”
“Jeeze, you guys are like a romantic comedy on acid,” Loki observed. “I want more! Lash out at each other! Reveal your dysfunctional relationship for all Jotun to see! God knows I need satellite TV installed here... but until then, hey! We have Grim and his reluctant girl to entertain us.” He clapped his gloves together enthusiastically. “Y'know what, Samael? I was wrong about you. You can be fun. In the right company, that is.” Loki's boxing outfit disappeared, replaced by a flashy black suit with red trim. He reached into his breast pocket, taking out a gold-leafed invitation. He sauntered on over to Samael, handing it to him with style. “Here you go, bro. Forget the bribe. Take the monkey- just drop by my next revel, eh? I could use a little entertainment.”
Samael's eyes grew wide as saucers. He was torn between accepting the invitation and rejecting it on account of his pride. He took it with an iron hand, appraising it. “I'll consider,” Samael said slowly, taken aback. “A... a barbecue?” He looked at Loki in surprise. “I've never been invited to a barbecue. Even Raphael forgets to invite me to his backyard parties. I've always wanted...” Samael shook his head, recollecting himself. “Come. Maggot. Goat. We depart now.”
Loki smiled knowingly as Puck protested, dragged out of the ring by Samael. My chain disappeared, and he winked at me. “Keep him happy, eh, kitten? And bring him around sometime. Just make sure he behaves.”
“But we're not together...” I protested, climbing out of the ring. I looked up at a sniggering Loki, blushing furiously. “Fine. I will.” My stomach rumbled tellingly. I recalled with yearning the breakfast I'd never eaten, sighing wearily.
The boxing ring had shifted back to Loki's hall once more. “Come, love!” he led me enthusiastically to the door. “And take a roast for the road.”
“Are you serious?” I said in ecstasy. Roasted pig on a stick appeared in my hands. I looked up at Loki with starry eyes. “Thank you!”
Loki winked. “Anytime, kitten.”
So I left, roast in hand, and the sky, hitherto grim, looked just a little bit brighter. Puck was a furry silhouette in the distance. Samael stood at the foot of the cliff's path, his hand outstretched, waiting. “C'mon, maggot- is that roasted boar?”
“Mine!” I yelled, dodging as he dived for it. He chased me up the scree-covered path, hunger burning in his eyes.
“Mine,” he growled. “Meat is a man's business. Especially roasted meat on a charcoal stick.”
“Whoo!” I cried out as we reached the top, winded. “God, I'm exhausted,” I sighed, sinking onto a springy moss-covered stone. I sank my teeth into the delicious, honey-smoked ham. “God,” I moaned. “So good.”
Samael looked at me lustily.
“Stop it!” I said, batting him with the charred stick. He smirked.
“Stop moaning.”
“I'm hungry, okay? We mortals have to eat.”
Samael shrugged, whistling lowly. “So you got me invited to Loki's party, eh?” he mused. “For once, your misadventures produce rosy consequences for me.”
I nodded my agreement, mouth full of boar. He looked at the meat. “C'mon, Shannon. Just one bite.” He didn't wait for an answer, snatching it from me and devouring it greedily.
I raised my brow. “Why do I put up with this?”
“I think the question, maggot, is why do I tolerate you, when you could never possibly be of any use to me.”
“You said it already: I'm the clapping monkey.”
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