One last sadness. One last fight and then they'll get that third orb. They almost have it! But...
Mira looked down at the digimon on the ground. They kept winning but everyone was tired and hungry, even their newest friend Sorcerimon wasn't doing well. That digivolution last time was impressive, but he clearly wasn't in a rush to do it again. And Amelia and that Dorumon...ah...Rapace? They weren't doing well.
"We'll have to stop and rest," she insisted to the other humans.
"We don't have time..." Odile countered. "The door will only open when the sun hits it, if we wait any longer we'll have to wait a whole day and we don't have the supplies for that."
"But our digimon can't keep fighting, M'dame." Isa stepped towards the researcher. "They need a break! They can't handle one more fight!"
Odile sighed, then peered into the last chamber. Hands clutched in fight fists...a rock type. That's fine...great even.
"That's fine. We can do it."
"What?"
"WHAT?!"
Odile looked back at her two new traveling companions. "Can...you two not fight?"
"N-no?"
"I mean, I kind of can. I was taught to defend myself, but not a sadness like that. It's too strong."
Odile blinked at them both, then looked down at her companion. "Vaugardians..."
"Yawa-gen!" Sorcerimon barked out a laugh. Odile just rolled her eyes. Then she flipped open her book.
"Alright...keep your buffs on me, Mirabelle keep me standing, and Isabeau, get in the way of anything that looks too dangerous."
Wait, Madame-"
"Come on, Mirabelle, we don't have all day. I'm going to show the two of you how we handle things, Ka Buan style."
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jenndoesnotcare replied to this post:
Every time LDS kids come to my neighborhood I am so so nice to them. I hope they remember the blue haired lady who was kind, when people try to convince them the outside world is bad and scary. (Also they are always so young! I want to feed them cookies and give them Diana Wynne Jones books or something)
Thank you! Honestly, this sort of kindness can go a really long way, even if it doesn't seem like it at the time.
LDS children and missionaries (and the majority of the latter are barely of age) are often the people who interact the most with non-Mormons on a daily basis, and thus are kind of the "face" of the Church to non-Mormons a lot of the time. As a result, they're frequently the ones who actually experience the brunt of antagonism towards the Church, which only reinforces the distrust they've already been taught to feel towards the rest of the world.
It's not that the Church doesn't deserve this antagonism, but a lot of people seem to take this enormous pride in showing up Mormon teenagers who have spent most of their lives under intense social pressure, instruction, expectation, and close observation from both their peers and from older authorities in the Church (it largely operates on seniority, so young unmarried people in particular tend to have very little power within its hierarchies). Being "owned" for clout by non-Mormons doesn't prove anything to most of them except that their leaders and parents are right and they can't trust people outside the Church.
The fact that the Church usually does provide a tightly-knit community, a distinct and familiar culture, and a well-developed infrastructure for supporting its members' needs as long as they do [xyz] means that there can be very concrete benefits to staying in the Church, staying closeted, whatever. So if, additionally, a Mormon kid has every reason to think that nobody outside the Church is going to extend compassion or kindness towards them, that the rest of the world really is as hostile and dangerous as they've been told, the stakes for leaving are all the higher, despite the costs of staying.
So people from "outside" who disrupt this narrative of a hostile, threatening world that cannot conceivably understand their experiences or perspectives can be really important. It's important for them to know that there are communities and reliable support systems outside the Church, that leaving the Church does not have to mean being a pariah in every context, that there are concrete resources outside the Church, that compassion and decency in ordinary day-to-day life is not the province of any particular religion or sect and can be found anywhere. This kind of information can be really important evidence for people to have when they are deciding how much they're willing to risk losing.
So yeah, all of this is to say that you're doing a good thing that may well provide a lifeline for very vulnerable people, even if you don't personally see results at the time.
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"Stop scratching at your ear."
BG jumped at your voice, its small paw yanking from its ear. It's claws got taken away because it kept picking at its wounds.
"Why should I?" it hissed.
"It won't heal if you keep messing with it."
"It won't heal at all!" It turned, staring at you with a single yellow eye. "It's gone! And nothing will fix it! They're all gone because you had to be a selfsacrifical idiot!"
"What was I supposed to do, BG? Let Bonnie get hit?"
"Yes! They would've been fine!"
"No!" You stomp your foot, shutting the tiny digimon up. "They would've died!" You had to protect them, you had to keep them safe, it doesn't matter what happens. An eye doesn't matter more than Bonbon!
BG stepped back for a moment before hopping towards you, its hackles bristling down its spine. "Why? Why Siffrin? Why is it always us getting hurt?!"
"BG, listen. I didn't want you to get hur-"
"Don't start. I don't care about that, I couldn't let you get hit again. But neither of us would've gotten hurt if you hadn't thrown yourself in the way!"
"I had to. I didn't mean for you to get hurt, but I was the only one fast enough. I had to protect them."
"Yeah- yeah! It's always about them! Why do you-" It stopped and looked away. You knew that expression, its words had grown too sharp for its tongue.
You knelt down and gently scooped it into your arms. "I'm sorry..." you pushed the words out of you. You had to apologize. "...you shouldn't have ever gotten hurt...."
Its small paws dig into your shirt, clinging to you. Despite its strength, it's so small...it should've never gotten hurt, not like this.
And yet...you'd do it again...in a heart beat.
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i genuinely hope in my lifetime to never experience anything like the reylo phenomenon ever again. something about that ship either attracted people who were weird or made people weird, and either way existing on internet spaces while it was at its peak was hellish.
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