#the hatred I have for those people is unparalleled

[kyuutekyu]

I really wished your words matched your actions..

He could've done something, say something.. He chose to stay quiet and now he's saying that Leo deserved better!

OFC HE DOES!!

Imagine him coming back in January, after achieving the biggest 🏆, after fulfilling his heartiest desire.. And losing that spark week after week.. 🥺

Imagine that those people, that club managed to dull the spark of a boy who saw defeats in finals, one after another, was so strong and resilient, that he didn't give up on ⚽

If the fans were the ultimate problem, you were also the issue. Off field, fans were whistling at him, on field no was passing him the ball.. You never once stood with him, let alone for him.

[friedwritinggamingghost]

Hey there. Sorry for bringing up an old post of yours since I was scrolling through tumblr on Chase & Omi mentor/protege relationship stuff. I saw your ask replies on favorite scene of Chase and Omi way back, and I could think for me at least why Chase has something personal against Raimundo. During Saving Omi, Raimundo's breakdown in his fight with Heylin!Omi, crying in both desperation and plea for the other to snap out. This short moment was that pivotal moment in making Heylin!Omi hesitating in dealing the finishing blow to Raimundo. And also, Raimundo rashly yet boldly charged towards Chase when the latter insisted Omi would remain here with him, declaring Omi would come home with them... Somehow seems to angered Chase enough to go into his draconic form to bite him off in half. So, there's still a bit of strong animosity hatred between them for what I've seen.

Hey there! My sincere apologies for taking so long! Life called and life takes priority.

I wouldn't be at all surprised if Chase had animosity for Raimundo in particular.

In my own opinion, Raimundo isn't a particularly honorable person. That's not to say he has no honor, of course. I have no doubt he'd die to save his loved ones, and he'd die for what's right if that was the only option left.

But beyond that? I think Rai is a deeply flawed young man, just as all the other Xioalin Dragons are, it's part of what makes them interesting. But his flaws lean him more towards morally grey areas. I think it comes naturally for him to put his own interests first, then his loved ones and then what's right.

Him fighting against those instincts is an interesting character plot.

But I think his flaws are what make him both uninteresting and infuriating to Chase.

Raimundo has talent, he's willing to put in the work, he's underhanded and sneaky and a liar and a hypocrite. And he is consistently favored over Omi.

Omi has his own flaws which I won't get into for this post, but he's also a genuinely honorable person. He has a strong work ethic, he is talented and works hard to level his raw talent into unparalleled skill. His loyalty is unquestionable, unlike Raimundo.

And it extends to Raimundo. Even as Raimundo is favored over Omi, unfairly so. (I include the other monks in this as well, because they're all given more priority by Fung than Omi is.)

Omi is neglected and overlooked and passed over by the very people who raised him. Who should care for him more than anything. They put Rai in the spotlight, consistently downplaying Omi and lifting up Rai.

And yet, it's Rai who makes Omi hesitate. It's Rai Omi looks up to the most even as they're rivals. It's Rai that Omi gives his loyalty to, even when not following Rai might actually be better for Omi.

I think that there is a dynamic between Rai and Omi that Chase probably finds very bitter to witness.

So yeah no, I would agree. I think Chase would blatantly be pleased with Raimundo's death, and maybe he even hates Rai as well.

[zorosdimples]

Kae, actually I saw this one person rbing stupid callout posts about aging up and noncon on their writing account where they have their mutuals ( with tags calling DC writers disgusting etc ). Then later I saw them sending appreciation ask from their main to dark content blog about one of their dark fics. It was noncon and stepcest.. not sure. The audacity 😭😭. Most of these people just want to stick with the crowd. Actually they can just not stick with anyone right. Like just ignore the callout posts instead of rbing them while actually consuming DC. Some of those discourse posters themselves consume DC too. It just brings us to one conclusion that they love attention and love painting themselves as a "good person" .

oh god—the hypocrisy is unparalleled. it’s hard for me to wrap my mind around how they wrestle with their public persona and their internal desires since they’re at such odds. at the end of the day, i guess they want to come across as a morally pure person—as though fiction carries any real-world, moral consequences. and their moral “superiority” apparently allows them to harass others, spread vile rumors and hatred, and overall be a shitty person. it’s just laughably, truly.

[sleepyrays]

your rw art is so so so cute and pretty >_< the way you draw clothes is a huge inspo and youre wonderful at drawing the scugs!!

do you base a lot of the outfits looks on flowers?? I cant tell if I'm quirky for thinking that but the way you draw the clothes flowy give me those vibes deeply it feels so fitting and wonderful!! I like seeing possibilities for any fashion and style explored

I usually get a lot of flack for asking this but any thoughts on shipping in rw?? I'm not asking it out of hatred for it I genuinely want to hear people speak positively and gush about their ships if possible!! and you are a great artist that seems very nice so I'm curious about your thoughts

sorry if this all comes off weird I got excited while lurking and finding artists through people that like rain world and reblog pretty art!!

hiiii omg i love this ask thank you <33

see, i do not intentionally base my outfits on flowers. HOWEVER most times i am heavily influenced by nature aesthetics and take refs off pinterest, and most times those refs are just very floral or naturey in vibe. so ! that makes a lot of sense if im being honest. either way its just a silly showing of how much i enjoy flowers and flowy nature things :') because i do love it very much.

as for shipping uhh. I do not *particularly* ship a lot in rw?? my main focus ship is lilypad aka nsh x moon, there's not really many other ships im interested in, but i've seen people do interesting shipping takes of pebbles and unparalleled innocence before, which i find very complicated but i have some very mild interest in it. (since most of it is very uhhh. speculative? on ui's character in general? as well as the two's dynamic?) but like ehh i'm not a HUGE rw shipper. i don't ship the slug cats whatsoever i don't bother with that.

thank you though :) this does not come off as weird i am happy to see people go through my artworks ! thankyou anon mwah

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

Rep. Paul Gosar (R-Ariz.), who for years has promoted and appeared with white nationalists, voted Thursday to remove Rep. Ilhan Omar (D-Minn.) from the House Foreign Affairs Committee, citing... what he called “her sustained racism and anti-semitism.”

On that front, Gosar’s own record is unparalleled: In February 2021, he spoke at a political conference hosted by the white nationalist Nick Fuentes ― known today as the political adviser of the antisemitic rapper Ye. At the event, Gosar praised the crowd, telling them that “a nation without a people is not a nation.”

Fuentes, following Gosar, told his audience: “White people are done being bullied!”

The following day, Fuentes posted a picture to his Twitter account of him and Gosar getting coffee together. A few days later, Gosar tweeted a meme that included the motto of Fuentes’ white nationalist group.

Even after a public outcry, Gosar appeared at the same conference a year later, this time in a pre-recorded video. (He subsequently said the appearance was due to a miscommunication.) At that conference, Fuentes remarked: “Now, [the media is] going and saying, ‘Vladimir Putin is Adolf Hitler,’ as if that isn’t a good thing.”

Following the event, Gosar claimed he was done “dealing with Nick.” But he wasn’t: In September, he tweeted a link to a documentary about Fuentes, with a comment about “the persecution against Christians and Conservatives by the Biden Regime.” He eventually deleted the tweet.

In an email to constituents Thursday explaining his vote to boot Omar from the Foreign Affairs Committee, Gosar falsely said the congresswoman “has expressed a deep hatred for Jewish people and Israel.”

“Representative Omar has pursued a reckless and fundamentally anti-American agenda while in the United States House of Representatives,” Gosar wrote. “She regularly engages with racists, supports and condones racism, and champions anti-American sentiments.”

Gosar’s email, and the Republican resolution he voted on to expel Omar from the committee, cited a handful of tweets and comments from the congresswoman, such as a tweet in which she said U.S. politicians’ support for Israel was “all about the Benjamins baby.” (Omar later apologized for the remark.) Gosar also cited a public appearance in which Omar said, “I want to talk about the political influence in this country that says it is OK for people to push for allegiance to a foreign country,” comparing pro-Israel lobbying efforts to those of the National Rifle Association and the fossil fuel industry.

Gosar’s ties to white nationalists go back years. In 2019, he was following explicit white nationalists on his personal Twitter page ― accounts with names like @TradNatWife88 (“88” is a common white nationalist code for “Heil Hitler”). One account that Gosar followed published tweets like “We need a leader who can rile the masses of Whites with their eye’s [sic] closed,” and “Wherever there’s n[******] they’ll be n[******].”

More recently, Gosar has tweeted (and then deleted) support for former President Donald Trump’s call for the “termination” of parts of the Constitution. He has also tweeted a video of an animated version of himself killing Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (D-N.Y.).

Despite that behavior, Republicans, led by House Speaker Kevin McCarthy (R-Calif.), have restored Gosar to committee assignments after Democrats in the previous House majority voted to kick him off various committees.

Gosar’s office didn’t respond to HuffPost’s request for comment.

[the-idols-story-thesecretbase]

【けっこんしました～！💒✨】(8月3日）

୨୧┄┈୨୧‧⁺̣˚̣̣*̣̩⋆̩·̩̩୨୧·̩̩⋆̩*̣̩˚̣̣⁺̣‧୨୧┈┈୨୧

“We’re——”

“——MARRIED☆☆☆”

“...Stu…——” Sigh.

How should I put it... As a guy, being carried in a bridal hold while running on the red carpet like this——

It's really... pretty embarrassing,

However——

Since, becoming your bride is the mission that I have signed myself up for to undertake today,

Then...for this time, I will lay my pride aside, and let you do as you wish——

After all... being a guy just you are too, the happiness of getting yourself married to a good wife is what you deserved anyway...

…

Today’s wedding was our third that was held…just for you, in order to let the world know just how far I will go——by stripping off all fears and bracing myself to bear all following consequences for you——

Even if I will then be labelled as my most hated ‘homosexual/gay’ of a title——

Yet that would not stop me… from showing this world, just how much I love you.

This wedding day was held for you...to welcome those who have truly supported us throughout this journey...and open to those who harbour unkind opinions about us, those who hated us, mocked us, insulted us...for this route we chose.

If they still want to continue hating us... then let them be!

I just want them to see that no matter how much hatred, no matter how much malice we are given to face... they will never defeat our strong, sincere, deep and unconditional love that we have for each other!

Let the world know that my love for you is beyond all, unparalleled—— -

So that they know that I... Kuron, am willing to be the husband... or wife, of Kou.

...Actually, for me, whether it's being your husband or wife... it is a status that does not matter to me.

After all, being able to live and become both of these identities serves you for the rest of your life with double the love and thus different forms of dedication...

Actually, it's not that bad at all...——

Or in this case, should I say here...

…𝙄 𝙙𝙤.

…

…

…

“...?! Wait, wait——How long do you plan to run around carrying me like this?! The hell you're even doing——Put me down! You bas——...”

“Hahahaha, this is so much fun☆! Being able to carry Kitty like this and run around like in a marathon. It feels so good, woohoo——☆”

“Furthermore...seeing how cute Kitty is blushing madly and being so vulnerable from this…I simply just can't get enough of it, ahhh! ”

“So allow me, the groom, indulge in this moment of romance just a little while longer. Our car hasn't even arrive yet anyway so, let's——goooo☆☆☆”

“...Bro, you're mad, and fucking crazy——Mon dieu!”

“Help, somebody——what the fuck! …S-so many people are watching us…d-damn it. Damn you——”

“...You damn moron of a husband, just you wait——”

“——And see just what this ‘bride’ will do to you once we get home!”

[sprites4ever]

THE LOW VOLTAGE MISANTHROPE VS THE HIGH VOLTAGE HUMANIST

„I honestly can't tell what's more tragic: Humans destroying their species and the earth out of selfishness, or humans wanting their species to be destroyed because of that.“

Visiting an ocean exhibition today, which mentioned overfishing and ocean pollution, got me thinking about environmentalism and science, and what others have told me about them.

Not just in my generation, Generation Z, but especially in my generation, I see misanthropism, the hatred for the human race. They talk about how humans are inherently horrible, killing and ruining each other and the planet, and how humans don't deserve this world and should just stop living.

Now, in my generation, a lot of that stems from suffering-induced self-hatred, people projecting their hatred for themselves onto humans. But it's more systemic than that.

Arguably, the origin of misanthropism, coupled with anti-intellectualism stems from WWII. Because the Nazis used new technology to inflict unparalleled human suffering and death, and because they justified it with a twisted parody of Darwinist biology, claiming that they were the best 'race' who had the right to destroy the others. This is acutally where the mad scientist trope comes from, as the Nazis didn't have scientists. German scientists had fled the Nazis or were killed by them, since every autocrat's greatest weakness is people who can see through their propaganda. What the Nazis had, was insane people who were paid to invent new torture methods.

This, and the subsequent development of the nuclear bomb, created a new view on humanity, one in which humans and the things they do (those being science and technology) are inherently evil. Misanthropism.

It is false, and there are two reasons why it exists, both having their root in the fundamental, archaic nature of us humans, as seen from a biological perspective.

Negativity bias Originating from our archaic survival instinct, we focus on the bad and do not appreciate the good. We do this because we perceive the bad to be a threat. This is also why we want to be good, because we want to solve the issues with the bad, to stop the threats. Factually, there is as much good in the world, and in each of us, as there is bad. But we only pay attention to the bad and pass off the good.

Egocentrism Being predators by nature, humans are selfish by nature. This leads to each of us having a worldview that is centered around how we perceive the world, and each of us assumes their view to be true. So, if someone has seen a lot of human evil, in concert with negativity bias, they will project it on all humanity.

Misanthropes beat up their own species over some members of said species violating standards that their species has created. Factually, we have as much of a right to live on earth as all other species. Factually, we humans did not invent violence, war, conquest, mass destruction etc. Look up ant wars.

And yes, evil people do horrible things that affect so many humans and other creatures. But they are the fewest, and most people who serve them are not evil, only deceived into thinking that they're doing a good thing.

So, good people must not limit themselves in their ability to affect each other and the world. They must not reject technology or society. Like how a hammer can be used to build a home or to bash a person's skull, like how a nuclear chain reaction can be used to generate power or to cause an explosion that kills hundreds of thousands, these things, just like every other thing humans have invented, are neutral tools that humans can use for good or evil.

Evil humans will use them anyway, so the good humans must stop the evil ones from using these things for evil, and not stop themselves from using them for good.

[gobboguy]

**Chapter 34: Secrets of the Swordmasters**

The halls of Farfield Castle exuded an ancient elegance, their stone walls adorned with tapestries that depicted heroic battles and legendary creatures. Dim torchlight flickered, casting dancing shadows that seemed to whisper the castle's forgotten tales. The air was heavy with the scent of polished wood, leather, and the faintest aroma of candle wax.

Alden followed Ionia, his eyes wide with awe as he took in the grandeur of the castle. "It's always a suprise at how magnificent it is, even after all this time," he murmured, his voice a hushed reverence.

"Indeed, the craftsmanship is exquisite," Ionia replied, her tone absent of sentiment as she led him deeper into the heart of the castle.

As they walked, Alden dared to address the subject that weighed heavily on his mind. "Ionia, I don't understand. Why do Swordmasters harbor such animosity towards non-humans? Why this prejudice?"

Ionia glanced at him, her eyes cold and unwavering. "Swordmasters are bred and trained to achieve unparalleled mastery over their bodies and minds. Our discipline is an art, a skill that only humans possess. We believe that our ability to attain such perfection makes us the rightful guardians of our kingdom."

"But that doesn't justify hatred," Alden protested, his voice tinged with frustration. "Surely understanding and acceptance should prevail."

"Swordmasters are taught to prioritize the survival and superiority of our kind," Ionia said, her gaze never leaving the path ahead. "We believe that our rigorous training elevates us above all others. Non-humans lack the inherent physical and mental capabilities that define us."

As if to emphasize her point, Ionia subtly demonstrated her mastery, wiggling a single muscle in her nose, transforming the shape of her hand tonnearly twice its size, and controlling the length of her fingernails. Alden watched in silent awe as she held her breath, her chest unmoving, for almost ten minutes before exhaling with deliberate ease.

"It's not just about hate, Prince Alden," Ionia said, her tone softening slightly. "It's about preserving what we believe to be the true essence of humanity."

Alden pondered her words, his thoughts a tumultuous whirlwind of emotions and understanding. In that moment, he realized the depth of the division between humans and non-humans in their world—a divide that threatened to shatter the fragile peace they had fought so hard to maintain.

"So, why are you convinced that there's something amiss in the castle." Alden asked Ionia after a beat.

"Considering the lack of urgency around the matter and the amount of blood I can smell on these walls," Ionia's pace was quick and Alden struggled to keep up, "I believe there may be a master vampire at work."

Alden hesitated, his voice laced with concern. "But surely, if there was a master vampire within the castle, someone would have noticed by now. People don't just disappear without anyone realizing."

Ionia's expression remained impassive. "Master vampires are experts in the art of hypnosis. They can cloud the minds of those around them, inducing them to overlook strange incidents or attribute bizarre occurrences to mere accidents. The residents of the castle could have easily been manipulated to create explanations for the disappearances."

Alden's mind raced back to a chambermaid who had vanished without a trace a few months ago. The incident had been brushed aside, the assumption being that she had chosen to leave and live with distant relatives. He felt a knot tighten in his stomach as the realization struck him.

"But can a master vampire feed without killing its victims?" Alden asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Ionia nodded solemnly. "Indeed, they can. A master vampire possesses the finesse to feed without draining a person entirely. They can take just enough to sustain themselves, leaving the victim weakened and vulnerable, but alive."

Dread settled over Alden like a suffocating shroud. His thoughts turned to Eleanor, his beloved wife, and the life growing within her. If Ionia's suspicions were correct, Eleanor was in grave danger.

Alden's voice shook as he spoke, his concern etched across his face. "We must do something. We must find this master vampire and put an end to its malevolent deeds before it harms my wife or anyone else in this castle."

Ionia's eyes gleamed with a resolute determination. "Agreed, Prince Alden. We will uncover the truth and eradicate this menace, even if it means confronting the darkness within our very walls."

That might, Alden's heart was pounding in his chest as he approached Eleanor, his mind plagued by the troubling revelations. He found her in the laying in bed as usual, her eyes fixed on a stain on the rug in their room, marring the otherwise elegant rug.

"Eleanor," he said, his voice a gentle caress, "there are rumors of a vampire haunting the castle. Do you have any idea how it might have gotten here?"

Eleanor's eyes, usually filled with warmth and kindness, now reflected a deep concern. Her eyes remained locked on the strain, her pupils tracing its outline as if trying to decipher a hidden message.

"I can't fathom how this happened," she replied, her voice soft but resolute. "I've heard whispers among the staff, rumors of strange happenings in the castle. Some even speak of a malevolent presence lurking in the shadows."

Alden clenched his fists, his determination solidifying. "Ionia, one of the Swordmasters, believes a master vampire might be behind these incidents. They have the ability to manipulate minds and cover their tracks, making it difficult for us to uncover the truth."

Eleanor's eyes widened in alarm. "A master vampire? But how can we protect ourselves and the kingdom from such a powerful foe?"

Alden took her hands in his, his touch gentle yet firm. "We cannot let fear paralyze us, Eleanor. We must face this threat head-on and find a way to counteract the vampire's abilities. Ionia is resourceful and knowledgeable; she might hold the key to unraveling this mystery."

Eleanor nodded, her trust in Alden unwavering. "We will face this together, my love. For the safety of our child and the kingdom."

Alden's fears gripped him. There was no telling if the vampire had been targeting Eleanor or not but Alden was not about to let this monster stalk the castle unimpeded.

Alden pressed a tender kiss to Eleanor's forehead, his resolve burning brighter than ever. With their determination united, they would confront the darkness lurking within the castle's walls and protect their loved ones from the looming menace.

[cockasinthebird]

It may come as a shock to everyone that knows them or have witnessed the two in the same room, but behind all that venomous spite and hatred, there’s a passion burning so bright it could outshine the sun. They had both felt it from the very first time they saw one another from across the parking lot, and at that fateful night at Tina’s party it exploded between them after Nancy left, and Steve was close to tears in one of the bathrooms.

That’s history by now, months later, where they find themselves in the backseat of the camaro, creating heat as they kiss with violent fervor whilst trying to undress. 

Billy always takes his shirt off as the very first thing, and why shouldn’t he; he works hard on those pecs and abs he’s got, and there’s no denying that Steve appreciates it all a great deal.

“Your tits are amazing,” Steve grunts out and bends down to lick a wet, hot stripe across one very attentive nipple.

“Yeah? Wanna fuck ‘em?” Billy asks without a hint of joking, somehow both deeply serious and vividly sensual at once.

“Can I?” Steve’s already ready to try, as the first thing he does when undressing is push down his jeans and briefs.

“Hell yeah, I want you to cum all over my face, pretty boy,” the blonde drawls out, licking his lips and sticking his tongue far out, inviting what’s to come.

“Alright, scoot down then!” Steve is quick to straddle Billy’s torso, lining himself up perfectly between those perky pairs of pecs. And being in a situation where they’re almost always lacking lube, Steve lets a fat drip of drool land on the head of his cock with impressive precision.

“Mmmh, yeah that’s good,” Billy almost moans out at the slick feel of the other’s throbbing erection slowly, tentatively gliding back and forth, and to help the situation some, he pushes his tits together.

“Oh fuuuuuck that’s really good, ahh,” Steve agrees blissfully, grabbing onto the backrest of the seat for leverage as he starts properly thrusting.

He wants to be cheeky and say it doesn’t feel as good as a girls tits, but truth be told it might just feel better. Why? Because it’s Billy. Billy fucking Hargrove, of all people. The animalistic craving they share for one another is unparalleled, and even if a blowjob has too many teeth, or a handjob is too dry, it still feels better because they’re doing it together. Both of them know it, neither of them wants to acknowledge it. This is just sex, nothing more, nothing less.

And, “Shit, hhmm,” does it feel incredible. Like fireworks, Steve says. Like arson, Billy says. But hey, at least they can agree that it runs burning hot and white, yet only lasts for a short duration before they each return to their daily lives far away from each other.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Steve grunts loudly as he rocks the entire car with his every motion. “Such a slut.”

“Oh yeah?” Billy chuckles deep and with a gravelly timbre. “And what does that make you, King Steve?”

“A whore,” he’s not shy to admit, and why would he be? The two of them are insatiable, practically fighting over the girls and seeing who can fuck their way around Hawkins the fastest. Or they fight about who gets to top and who gets to bottom, no matter what it is an endless battle about who’s the alpha male around here.

“God I’m close-”

“Already? So easy,” Billy speaks through such a shitty grin, flashing his pearly whites from ear to ear, and when he feels the thrusting get erratic, he opens his mouth wide and sticks out his tongue, ready.

He doesn’t last much longer than that, oh so eager to watch his cum spray across Billy’s face and mouth, and just so he gets his wish, thighs clamping together around the tanned chest, cock kicking intently as he shoots wet, hot white from chin to nose bridge, accompanied well by a mix of groans and curses, his nails digging into the leather of the seat.

Billy licks up as much as he can get within reach, but there’s quite a lot.

“Let me… let me grab you a tissue…” Steve sighs breathlessly as he slides down to sit in Billy’s lap.

[theangryjikooker]

7

This isn’t a new thought I’ve had, nor is it a revelation to anyone who loves BTS for who they are and what they do, but it’s always such a disarming experience to truly watch them synergize beautifully with one another.

There are moments, while watching them, where I find shipping completely meaningless because of how unconditionally and reverently they love one another. It’s so painfully obvious. In moments like these, romantic love doesn’t hold a candle to what these boys have nurtured for years, something specific to their own experiences as individuals and as a group.

I’ve never believed in fate or destiny until I became an ARMY. It’s always been my opinion that fate/destiny have been overly romanticized to the point where only those who’ve acquired the life and people most others yearn for are the ones who perpetuate the idea of fate/destiny. A part of me still believes that’s still true to a fault, but whenever I watch the BTS members together, I think, “Yeah. That’s fate.”

Their closeness isn’t unique by any stretch of the imagination, but it is unique for people of their stature and in a group so large—and that we’re able to witness it with any regularity. A relationship that tight-knit is typically flouted by couples or a smaller set of friends. In an industry where pride, greed, and all manner of conflict starters arise, they’re atypical. I think when it all boils down to it, this is the beauty of BTS.

When other shippers are dumbfounded or almost offended that I don’t lean specifically one way or the other regarding Jikook, I genuinely have no idea what more I’m capable of saying. OT7s should clearly be able to see why I don’t. Every ship that was witnessed during the few weeks BTS were in Las Vegas are all valid to anyone who supports them; the shippers, on the other hand, are what fuels the aggressive discourse, narcissism, insecurity, and hatred in this fandom—be it towards the boys or to each other—which is the antithesis of what BTS represent.

This doesn’t change how I view Jikook. I’m still drawn to their dynamic more than the others—not because they’re “better,” but because they’re more interesting to me. It’s easier to tinker around with their narrative because of how vague they appear to me, even though another shipper might have the opposite perspective. I will continue to respect those perspectives.

But in the context of BTS as a group? They’re all equal in my eyes, with a love that is unparalleled to what a (currently) speculative, romantic love has to offer.

[mirageofthecrystal]

Junelezen 2022 - Day 11 I Orthodox Mayhem

"Ser Zephirin de Valhourdin, the Just.

Ser Vellguine de Bourbagne, of the Stone Spear.

Ser Chirbert de Leusignac, the Stern.

Ser Grinnaux de Dzemael, the Bull

Ser Adelphel de Chevraudan, Brightblade.

Ser Paulecrain de Fanouilley, Coldfire.

Ser Haumeric de Peulagnon, the Valiant.

Ser Guerrique de Montrohain, the Cleaver.

Ser Hermenost de la Treaumaille, the Levinlight.

Ser Noudenet de Jaimberd, the Wise.

Ser Ignasse de Vesnaint, of the Dragon's Tail.

These twelve names are etched into the history of Ishgard, the memories of its people, and the hearts of every hopeful young man or woman who ever aspired to the pinnacle of knighthood. I was no different, revering these men, these knights twelve, the noble warriors of the Heaven's Ward who served Ishgard and the Archbishop with the utmost faith and prowess. As long as I can remember, I hoped to be amongst their ranks. And for a time, that aspiration looked to be within sight.

It was a reward for service, for valor and bravery that I had shown on behalf of Ishgard and my House. I remember the day clearly, still sporting wounds from the battle before. I was bid to simply wait under the care of the chirurgeons, and that the honor bestowed upon me would await me when I was mended. But I was stubborn, so badly did I desire what I thought my just reward. And so I marched before the people to accept their honors, and in one swift stroke I was dubbed to be a squire to none other than Ser Ignasse, once comrade to my uncle and unparalleled in his lancework. He was the mightiest slayer of dragons I could have pictured in my mind's eye, a relentless force for righteous justice that was unparalleled. And it would be my duty to serve him, to learn from him, and perhaps one day to take his place amongst these knights when his arms grew too weak to uphold his charge.

It was to my great shock and horror, then, when the most noble and righteous Heaven's Ward revealed themselves to be traitors. Not only that, but they were Primals save but name, gorging on the desperate prayers of our people for salvation. The Archbishop, the Knights, then entire Orthodoxy was simply a machine for faith, for the power of Godhood and the might to bend a world to the whims of a madman. And among them was Ser Ignasse, the man who I adored as a mentor and a friend, even after he did nothing to spare me from my wrongly ascribed fate. A man whom I wondered if I should pity or despise, so thoroughly had be betrayed my trust and the trust of all those who believed in him.

For such a foulness to corrupt even these finest of men, it had to live at the heart of it all. I know not if the Holy See had always conspired to reap our fear for their own ends, or if the lies of the past had been seeded and forgotten, and it was only by the hand of Thordan VII that the decision was made to betray everything we stand for? Was it the machinations of the Ascians that darkened his heart with promises of power, those begins whom we now know to have orchestrated many of the woes ascribed to the sins of the Garleans, or did that hunger and lust for something more always exist within him? Or had our people been lead astray from the start, from the moment the deception was born, and each generation built upon the bones of the last to turn our fear and hatred of the dragons into a weapon mighty enough to smite them and rob them of all that which we could have built together?

Of course, questions of this nature do not present themselves so readily on the field of battle. When a war rages all around you, you often do not question all that which has brought you to its doorstep, only how to move forward. And the same question was posed to Ishgard when the sword Ascalon fell from the grip of Thordan, with his Knights of the Round slain at last, with the eyes of Nidhogg divorced from another host who had once sworn to slay the beast with all he had. When the corruption that had been born in the hearts of the church still burned in many of the fervent and the faithful, with so much vitriol that even after pardons had been passed they would threaten myself and my family, cry out for my blood as a traitor, and accuse my sister of laying with dragons.

Even after the war had subsided, and for the first time in a millennium could the people of Ishgard at last choose a new and better path, the voices that had poisoned us rose into a louder and more violent crescendo. And thus did the consequences of our ancestors actions continue to spiral out of control, to divide us and conquer us within our hearts where the greatest battle is fought for the soul of us all. Our legacy would be forever stained with blood, or people truly divided between faith and truth, and the shade of Nidhogg's power would go on to plague lands beyond our own, for he would not rest even when consigned to the deepest and darkest abyss from whence no one should have been able to return.

With so many questions left behind of the nature of the Holy See and the path that must be walked, it was with the greatest reticence that I took up the position I had long coveted. Where the Heaven's Ward had once served to protect the Archbishop and the authority of the church, no longer did their need to be a shield to protect the lies which were woven. We required a new purpose much like our people, and I took up the sword knowing that I would need to confront those questions on behalf of Ishgard where once I was merely a victim of them.

The Heaven's Ward would have to become something different, our new role dedicated to the people of Ishgard, her safety, and in serving our new place amongst our allies of the Eorzean alliance. Each day I took the steps I thought would carry us to a brighter future, while the shadow of Ser Ignasse stretched behind me, dogging my steps and doubting my conviction. If one such as he had faltered and fallen to the darkness, then how could I hope to be any different? It boiled inside me, rage, fear, hatred, regret, all the things he must have felt to drive him to make the decisions he did. How could I hope to be any better, when the best among us could not resist the clarion call of sinister power?

To this day I still have no answer for that. I still do not know if I am truly worthy of the office which I hold, or if I too will succumb to the same damning influences that consumed my idols and turned them away from their people. I can only hope, through my own deeds and my commitment to those I have lost upon my path, that I can provide to Ishgard even a modicum of the grace and prosperity its people deserve, and I would be willing to give my life in order to bring it to fruition. The sins of the past should ever serve as a reminder, not that those who came before us failed, but that any of us can be found fallible, and that it is in the ability to correct our mistakes that makes us great, not our inability to make them at all.

- Excerpt from the personal journal and accounts of Ser Faiolan Penderghast, Knight of the Heaven's Ward

[bookquotes-20]

Crashing

Fandom: Folk of the Air

Ship: Jurdan

Rating: T

Fluffy Angst

Little had changed since Jude’s ascension to the throne. As when she was Seneschal, she coordinated the kingdom’s affairs with unparalleled grace and tenacity.

Perhaps the greatest difference was the respect and admiration that shone in the eyes of her subjects and colleagues. Some entertained the sentiment freely while others offered their appreciation with reluctance, but even those that loathed to admit it, could not deny that their Queen was remarkable.

Oh, and of course, the revels.

As Seneschal, Jude could still make up excuses of work to avoid attending the unending festivities that were often separated by little free time. Cardan was never far from “a party mood,” as it was called in the human world. And when she was considered a mere accessory to the crown, she had no direct obligation to attend each meaningless celebration.

Now that she wore said crown, the lavish parties were considerably more difficult to avoid.

Jude still did not attend them all, nor did she attend them in their entirety. She would, though, make an appearance alongside her husband at the beginning and end of each.

It was a thrill like no other, walking to the dais boasting their thrones, her hand firmly in his, both draped in finery.

He would brush a kiss across her knuckles each time before they took their place together, and his voice would boom across the hall to begin the merriment.

For years, Jude had watched Cardan’s lithe form adorned in lush garments and glittering powders as he maneuvered through galas and feasts and festivities. And yet still, he managed to take her breath away each time.

First with his otherworldly beauty, for their was no other way to describe it. She hesitated to call it Fae beauty because he truly surpassed all the Fae she had seen. The slant of his high cheekbones accentuated by the faint shimmer of gold. The sensuously dark eyes rimmed with kohl that only served to increase their depth, through the contrast they provided against the white around his irises. When a sheen of intoxication covered them, they glimmered like the night sky. The wine he indulged in throughout only served to darken his sinful mouth, accentuating his lips against his pale skin. Unfortunately, Jude was acutely aware that she is not the only one who has noticed Cardan’s painful beauty.

Beyond this carefully crafted beauty, though, through this new lens placed upon their lives, Jude saw something else that set her stomach aflutter in ways she could not hope to explain. Her disinterest with the merriment gave her the opportunity to watch her husband with rapt interest. Observe in ways she had not let herself indulge before.

She watched Cardan charm their guests and dignitaries, smiling wide and tipping his head back in laughter at their stories. His lighthearted demeanor and mischief coaxed grins from even the most stubborn of their guests. Enough so that they’d miss the coy turn to his lips, the sly gleam in his eyes that indicated he was there for more than celebration and mirth. He would masterfully put all around him a perfect ease and walk away having gleaned whatever political advantage he sought. Every. Time.

It fascinated Jude to no end. Her husband was cunning. And no one was the wiser. 

The thought enticed a chuckle from her chest.

The sound seemed to catch Cardan’s attention. He turned his head toward her and gave a small smile as he started up the dais to her.

“Would you grace me with a dance, my queen,” he said, eyes shining. She smiled and took his outstretched hand.

His gaze never wavered from hers. Not when he maneuvered them through the crowds to the center of the room. Certainly not when he placed her hands on his shoulders and his own firmly on her waist. Absolutely not when his fingers pressed with careful deliberation against the small of her back to arch her towards him.

“You’ve danced with quite a many people tonight, my king.” Her voice was mostly teasing. Although, a seasoned ear — and his was most definitely seasoned when it came to Jude — would swear there was the faintest undertone of jealousy. Cardan’s lips twitched into a smile.

“I have only wanted a dance with one person all night, and I have her in my arms.” Jude rolled her eyes in attempted annoyance, but the barest pink on her cheek betrayed all.

He raised their joined hands to twirl her. If he deliberate cut the spin short so she would fall against his chest, neither of them mentioned it.  The longer they danced, the more the world around them faded away. As it often did when they were together. 

The King and Queen had a way of losing themselves in each other. The time, the location, the circumstance was of little import. The ever burning spark between them would flare into a wildfire that burned all else out of their consciousness.

Flint and tinder indeed.

That’s why both startled when a loud cough beside them brought them out of their reveries. Jude nearly jumped backward, she truly would have were it not for Cardan’s firm grasp on her. They turned to see The Bomb waiting with an amused smile.

“Pardon the intrusion, lovebirds — I mean Your Highnesses,” she corrected with a giggle. “If I may borrow the Queen for a moment?”

Cardan threw The Bomb an annoyed glance, as if to say Really? but it only served to fuel her laughter. Jude squeezed his hand apologetically before starting to pull away. He held on to her till the last second, reluctant to let go, desperate to maintain the physical connection between them.

“I’ll see you in our chambers,” Jude whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before The Bomb pulled her away.

The Roach and The Ghost are waiting for them in the shadows of the exit arch. The Roach glances behind the two, suppressing a laugh at their High King who looks downright forlorn at the loss of his queen. What is the expression the mortals use? Whipped?

“What’s wrong?” Jude asked as they approached the spies. “Is there immediate danger?”

“No immediate danger,” The Roach reassured, “A messenger just arrived from the Court of Teeth with a letter. Nothing too serious but it does require a prompt response. They would like to meet with you and the Cardan in one week’s time regarding expanding and fortifying trade routes between the Court and Elfhame. Since it is a four day journey, we thought it best that we send the messenger with a response immediately to avoid rushed panic.”

Jude nodded, “That would be wise. Take me to him.”

In nearly an hour, she had received the message, formulated the perfect response, sent the messenger on his way, and planned the critical details of the summit. The Roach shook his head in amazement, a small smile curled The Ghosts lips, and The Bomb just looked on in respect and adoration. Their Queen was frustratingly talented. When it came to everything except her own safety that is. Her lack of self-preservation was a source of anxiety for them all.

“Would you like an escort back to the revel?” The Ghost asked softly. Jude smiled and shook her head.

“No, thank you, I think I’ll retire for the night. Enjoy your evening.”

They nodded and bid her good night as she started towards the royal chambers.

A deep breath left Jude’s chest as she closed the doors behind her. Her hands rose to her temples, fingers massaging the skin softly.

A brief moment passed until she felt a pair of arms encircle her waist. She didn’t hesitate to melt into her husband’s embrace, allowing his body hold up her own. Her hands covered his as he placed a soft kiss to the skin of her shoulder. Jude found herself thanking Tatterfell for choosing a sleeveless gown for the evening, held up by an intricately embroidered chord of fabric wrapping around her neck.

She tilted her head to look up at him. “You returned from the revel quite early.” Her brow furrowed and she scanned his face for signs of exhaustion. “Are you tired?” He shook his head. 

“My heart was elsewhere.”

The phrase was simple, but the weight of his gaze made it anything but. The corners of Jude’s eyes softened.

“I believe I still owe you a dance, my king.”

Cardan’s eyes brightened. “I believe you do,” he took her hand, brushing a kiss across her knuckles, “my queen.”

She turned in his arms to face him. His arm didn’t move from her waist, simply shifted to better accommodate her.

“Music?”

Cardan smiled and pulled her in closer. His cheek brushed Jude’s and his lips moved to her ear. He began to sing softly.

Jude’s eyes widened in amazement. His voice.

It was unlike anything she had heard before. Deep yet soft, like waves of velvet washing over her. Something in her body thrummed at the sound.

Resonance, was the term that came to mind. It was as if his voice was a frequency her very soul was tuned to. A sound made just for her.

Her forehead fell forward to rest on Cardan’s shoulder. She heard the smile in his voice as he swayed their joined form gently around their chambers. Jude felt the music vibrate through his body against her own.

“You have a beautiful voice,” she whispered against his shoulder. 

“Thank you, my love.” He pressed a kiss to her temple.

“What song is it?”

“It’s an old Fae ballad, a tale of two lovers whose very natures pitted them against one another.” Cardan spoke low in her ear. Even in the privacy of their chambers, it seemed as though he was hiding the words from the rest of the world, speaking only to her heart. “Just as the lovers constantly fought with each other, their hearts fought them. Their souls were made for one another, yearning to be united. Despite the world of circumstances separating them.”

There was a heavy silence. “I thought of it often in your absence,” he admitted.

Which one? Jude wanted to ask. During her exile? When she was taken by the Undersea? She pulled back to search his eyes. Or perhaps, even in their childhood? When they claimed to feel nothing but hatred for each other.

She rose on her toes to press her lips to his. A silent thank you for his trust, his admission. He kissed her back with more fervor than she expected. Jude braced a hand against his neck, fingers creeping into his dark curls just briefly while his lips moved against hers. Cardan pulled back slightly, breaths coming heavy as he rested his forehead against hers. His brows were furrowed, lines of tension contouring his face. Like he was reliving the pain of losing her all over again. Her fingers traced his face, smoothing the lines away.

“Every time I saw you, there was a fire that lit my veins,” she says into the space between them. “As you said, I always thought it was hatred.” Jude paused. “But I couldn’t, for the life of me, figure out why that fire burned so much brighter when I saw another girl in your arms.” His eyes snapped open at that, lips parting in slight awe. The corners of Jude’s mouth twitched. Success, she thought as she saw the pain slowly melt off his face as mirth creeped in.

“My queen,” Cardan began, his eyes sparked anew, “were you perhaps, jealous?”

“Were might not be the right term, are is more appropriate.” Jude scowled slightly. Her fingers stroked the back of his neck absentmindedly. “I still don’t like all the women that try to weasel themselves closer to you, with no regard for your wife’s presence.” She felt a tremor run up his spine at the word. Wife.

Jude paused, hesitating before reminding herself of Cardan’s admission to her. One piece at a time.

“They’re all quite beautiful too,” she muttered under her breath, averting her eyes.

Cardan looked at her as if he didn’t quite hear her correctly.

“My love, you can’t possibly be insecure about your appearance?”

“I mean, I’m not blessed with their Fae beauty or anything.” Truth be told, Jude had never cared about her appearance in front of the Folk. Her battle physique and training were most important to her, they still are. But she would be lying if she said she didn’t occasionally reflect on the differences between her and the beauty of the women that threw themselves at Cardan.

“Jude, look at me please, love.”

When she did, her breath hitched at the intensity of his gaze. “I understand insecurities are normal, everyone has them. Gods know I have more than most. But you have absolutely nothing to concern yourself with.” His hand tightened on her waist, pulling her closer. “You are without a doubt the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. No one else has the power to take my breath away with a single look. To make my heart race with a single touch. To undo me with a single kiss. You have ruled my heart, my mind, my very soul long before any of those women you speak of.”

Jude’s breath froze in her lungs. She knew Cardan loves her. He knew she loves him. They had whispered the words against each other’s lips and skin in dark nights of their chambers, spoken them through their eyes when their gazes locked across the throne room, laughed them to the wind as they danced in the royal gardens (at Cardan’s request). Yet the raw emotion in his words right then, the surety in his voice, nearly cut her open. She wanted to return the sentiment, to tell him what he means to her, but the words froze in her throat. A flash of hatred coursed through Jude at that. Hatred directed at no one but herself. For still freezing when it comes to laying her heart bare before him, the one person she trusts. The one person who deserved her vulnerability. Instead, like a coward, she caught onto his earlier words. 

Jude snorted. “Please, you don’t know what the word insecurity means when it comes to looks.” She poked at his high cheekbones jokingly, before tracing her finger down his sharp jaw. “You’ve never looked less than perfect a day in your life.”

Cardan’s hand rose to cover hers. His gaze pinned her in place. “And yet when I saw true contempt in your eyes, the day you returned to Elfhame, I felt uglier than I ever have in all my days.” He flashed back to the hate she directed at him. It felt like a steel net, weighing him down, closing his airways. He could hardly breathe under the weight. 

She brushed her thumb over his cheek.

Tears in his eyes were the last straw. Jude searched his face, her thoughts racing. No more, she decided. No more hiding. Cardan deserves better. He deserves more. He deserves vulnerability and to be loved freely. He deserves no more armor. Jude steeled her heart and something shifted in her eyes.

“It’s interesting that you saw contempt,” she murmured. “Considering I couldn’t bring myself to be angry with you the way I wished to.” Cardan’s eyes widened in surprise. The corner of her lips twitched. “Unfortunately, hating you has never been easy.” Jude stroked his cheek again. “There are days I question whether I could truly manage it at all.”

There’s a lightness in her eyes he’s unaccustomed to. No. Not a lightness, but rather the absence of weight. Jude does not often voice her feelings, but when she does, there is hesitance. Fear and reluctance swirl in her heart and heavy her tongue. The words she normally would have had to force out, flow today from her lips as naturally as water. Her lips ticked upwards, settling into the ghost of a smile.

Her arm wound tighter around his neck, decreasing the distance between them, while her other hand remained pressed between his hand and his cheek. His own arm tightened around her waist, pulling her closer still. Her mouth rose to his, just a hairsbreadth from touching it.

“Did you ever truly hate me,” she whispered.

“I believed I did.” Cardan’s gaze never wavered from hers. “I convinced myself the intense emotion that clouded my every thought was hate, because it seemed like the only acceptable answer. I tried to nurture those thoughts further towards darkness and hatred. At least that I understood.” His temple pressed against hers and a breathy chuckle escaped his chest. “What a fool I was.”

Jude paused a moment before asking another question.

“Can you tell when I lie?”

Startled again, Cardan thought. He contemplated his answer. “I believe so.”

“How do you know?”

“I don’t think I can put it into words,” he said. “Truthfully, I don’t think I myself understand how I know. Perhaps it is a product of watching you with such scrutiny all these years. There are parts of you I find myself so attuned to that it surprises me. Very little of myself is conscious when it comes to you, my sweet nemesis.” His thumb brushed back and forth over the skin exposed by a cut of her gown at the waist. The ministration in conjunction with his smooth voice is mesmerizing. She finds herself losing awareness of everything but him. “Your eyes usually give me my answer. As you speak, whenever I look in your eyes,” he moves her hand from his cheek to his heart. “something in here just knows whether you are telling the truth.”

She locked her gaze with his now.

“I love you.”

His breath froze in his throat. And he knew, something deep in his heart knew, that it’s true. He returned her honesty with a kiss. Whispering his greatest secret against her lips.

“I love you, my dearest Jude.”

[shihalyfie]

With Digimon Ghost Game starting, I thought about how different it is from previous Digimon series, though it's still undoubtedly Digimon... and then I realized all Digimon series are like that. So I wonder, what do you think sets each Digimon series apart from the rest?

I think both Ghost Game but also the reboot have been a wake-up call for people in terms of realizing that likes, dislikes, and tastes are subjective, and I think it's especially important in terms of this fanbase that is so obsessed with this idea you can objectively rank things by quality -- especially when each series is often deliberately trying to have its own identity, so it's arguably apples and oranges -- and forcing this idea of what's Good and Not Good on everyone else (especially when there's a nasty double standard phenomenon where Adventure and often Tamers get to be so impervious to criticism that people conveniently forget they're perfectly capable of being scrutinized for a lot of things they're weaker in). Very frustrating to see everyone who likes less popular series treated as if they have to accept that they like a "badly written series" for some things and everything else is a guilty pleasure, which I find to be incredibly dumb.

The most important take-home here is that the fact each series has its own identity is always going to be the main factor in what makes it "good" or not to you, not some arbitrary bar of comparison that's based on some narrow-minded view of "good writing" (which is usually unreasonably based on Adventure). For instance, the reason why 02 is so important to me is because (see below), to me, it has the highest amount of meaningful, important life lessons and themes that it wanted its audience to remember, to the point that I frankly do not care about where the plot goes in comparison. That may not be the case for everyone else, and that's fine, but should my tastes be called unreasonable for that? I think we're also coming to realize that because of Adventure (and kind of 02)'s precedent, so many people have been judging series purely by how intimate their individual character development style is, but this is unfair because Adventure and 02's ridiculous level of character depth to psychological detail is extremely unusual and unrealistic to expect of others; Adventure and 02 only achieved this by practically considering the plot utterly subservient to its character arcs, and it's arguably why they have some of the weakest "plots" in this franchise. It's so bizarre that I can see character development in other Digimon series that outstrips even most kids' anime on the market, but it's not as much as Adventure's so apparently it's bad. And, moreover, as it turns out, some people have priorities other than characterization; just because Adventure had that as its strength doesn't mean that's the only thing anyone should care about. Is the plot fun? Is there a meaningful message besides characters (also important to me)? Do you vibe with the tone being dark, or being silly? How much do you care about resourceful usage of Digimon lore? That kind of thing. Everyone is different, so that's why everyone has their own priorities. If you’re someone who prefers darker content, you may not realize that writing good and well-timed comedy is actually a very, very difficult task, especially when said comedy simultaneously has meaning (in comparison, it’s surprisingly easy to write “dark” but shallow content).

I think it's fair to like every Digimon series for its own thing, depending on your personal tastes. I can't speak for everyone, but my impressions are that it has to do with the following:

Adventure: Significantly easier to understand than 02 due to its more straightforward plot, and focus on individual character development ("individualism" being a strong point here). In terms of characters, it goes a lot into some very real social problems (the divorce around the Ishida and Takaishi families and the pressures surrounding Jou, for instance) in a very realistic manner. Also, it has that sense of mystique and absurdism to the Digital World that's both whimsical but also mysterious, and while 02 has it too, Adventure's the isekai story that has it the most.

02: The first is its focus on the importance of human relationships and the compelling group dynamic unparalleled in this franchise, and the second is its important themes and life lessons that I think are some of the strongest in said franchise. I have a whole tag for the ridiculous amount of nuance packed into every detail and dialogue line for this series, and I think every time I've rewatched an episode I've learned something new about it because there are so many things that clearly wanted to be said in each line. The entire series is basically an unpacking of the feelings of insidious self-hatred and the crushing feeling of being subject to society's expectations, and ones that are so deep-seated that you often don’t even have a single answer to how to unpack it (for instance, Miyako hardly has a tragic single event in her backstory, but she says and does a lot of things that'll be painfully familiar to those who have experienced chronic anxiety). Almost every plot point can be said to connect to each character arc in some way, and the mantras for appreciating and treasuring your own life and living life the way you will make this, in my opinion, the strongest series in terms of speaking to those who struggle with this kind of existential crisis for reasons of depression or otherwise. (Oops, I think I went too passionate about this; my biases are obvious...)

Tamers: I think it forms an interesting study and unpacking of the kinds of things you take for granted in Digimon or the monster-collecting genre in general, and an examination of how they'd work in a real-world context (although 02 had a focus on daily life, it didn't quite merge the Digimon and the real world factors until very late in the series). Also, probably the second highest on "hard sci-fi" (the only one that outstrips it is probably Appmon, but Appmon has a very different, more simplified take on it).

Frontier: A series that lies somewhere between Adventure's scale of individualism and 02's scale of group dynamic, and one more discussing the feeling of having your heart hardened from being an outcast, and what it takes to accept the idea of opening yourself up to others again. Recommended for those who like transforming hero and magical girl stories, too. From the Digimon perspective, also the one with the most detailed and consistent Digital World mythos.

Savers: I think this is the series that most drives home "life is complicated" (i.e. there isn't a single mastermind behind everything) in the most tasteful manner, because while it drives home the point that you can't just simplify everything into a good side and a bad side, some bad things really are evil (hi, Kurata), and it doesn't change the fact that everyone's responsible for cleaning up the fallout. The portrayal of the evils of government bureaucracy is probably the most realistic out of any of these series.

Xros Wars: For those who like fun, most of all! For those who like seeing Digimon finally get more of the spotlight and individuality since so much of it had been geared and biased towards the humans prior to this. For those who really like worldbuilding, and, after all, this is called Xros Wars, so it's interesting to see shakeups on the usual formulas in the form of the different factions and their priorities. Hunters is very different in tone, but I do think they have some of these aspects in common; that said, it being closer to having single partnerships brings it a bit closer in line to conventional Digimon partnerships, and it also has more of a picture of daily life. Also, as much as Tagiru is probably your-mileage-may-vary since he's not exactly a very nice kid (I get it if you don't vibe with that), which may also rub those hoping for not nice kids to become nice the wrong way, I do have to say I find him to be one of the funniest characters in this entire franchise, and you'd be surprised how hard good comedy is to write.

Appmon: Probably one of the strongest theme narratives besides 02, since it has a very clear and obvious theme about the importance of kindness in a world where technology is dominating and we're almost encouraged to strip the feelings out of everything. (Bonus for more straightforward plot than Adventure or 02 while still retaining a lot of its elements in terms of how to characterize them.) Also the first series to be speculative about the near future instead of taking place around the time it airs, and it's very obvious it wants to provide important and necessary commentary about what we need to do in the incoming era, especially as a lot of what it has to say becomes increasingly relevant.

Reboot: For those who like Digimon mythos and null canon -- this is probably the only series to show it off in this level of detail -- and the kind of cool action fights that would usually be saved for the climax in prior series (and animated in much more intimate detail with battle choreography than prior series would have). There are a lot of people into this franchise who felt like it genuinely was not making enough use of its Digimon roster and its potential because it kept going back to the old standbys (especially Adventure-based ones), so it was a huge relief for that crowd to see attention finally being paid.

[thunderousmemes]

                         🍃━ Mo Dao Zu Shi Quote Prompts 

“Does he like it, or is he scared of it? Or is it both at the same time?”

“We’re the only two unfortunate souls left here, aren’t we? 

”If you don’t have useless conversations with me, then who will you have them with?”

“Hatred could blind a person’s eyes, making him unable to admit anything in favor of his enemy.”

“Suddenly, he felt that the world had no place for him, despite how large it was”

“Everything was the same as before. Yet, it was because of how everything was the same as before that it tormented the heart.”

“I want to bring a person back to the hidden heaven, just bring him back, and hide him.”

“… Who cares about the crowded, broad road? I’ll walk the single-plank bridge into the night…”

“Young man, there are two cringe-worthy phrases in one’s life that must be said, no matter what.”

“Which two?”

“‘Thank you’, and 'I’m sorry’.”

“What can anybody do to me if I don’t say them?”

“Someday, you’ll say those words in tears.”

“Why would a living person worry about what happens after they die? I'll just live freely for as long as possible.”

“ But, this time, he wasn’t alone anymore.”

“At best, you’re the untamed hero; at worst, you offend people wherever you go.”

“Do you know why I’m not carrying my sword? It wouldn’t make a difference if I told you anyways.”

“Because I want you to know that even if I don’t use my sword, with nothing but what you call a ‘crooked path,' I will still rise unparalleled and leave all of you staring at me from behind.”

“Remember the things others do for you, not the things you do for others. Only when people don't hold so much in their hearts would they finally feel free.”

“I used to think of you as my soulmate.”

“I still am.”

“If the face says nothing, listen to the heartbeat.”

"How about this one?"

"Mine."

“Everything was the same as before. Yet, it was because of how everything was the same as before that it tormented the heart.”

“If there’s hope, then let’s move.”

“Yep. Congratulations. You’re under corpse poisoning.”

“How is this something to congratulate someone for?!”

“If you do not have those intentions, then do not flirt with others. You are doing as you please, yet others will be in turmoil.”

"I clearly call him the same thing to his face.”

“Now I understand.”

“What do you want?”

“I want to lie somewhere else.”

“Where would you want to lie, at such a place?”

“Let me borrow your lap for a while, won’t you?”

“With all their fanfare, they came to throw a siege, yet they themselves were instead faced with a siege. They chanted that they were here to destroy evil, yet in the end they needed the ‘evil’ to save their own lives.”

“If I can’t seek revenge no matter if I’m dead or alive, then what’s the difference between the two?”

"... I only left for a few hours.”

[meissnerd]

Berserk is a true masterpiece. It's staggering how much craft and care went into each panel; it's unparalleled. What I want to talk about, though, is why I think the story resonates so much with so many people. I think Berserk is an allegory about being wronged and hurt and seeing your abuser get to walk away from it all while you struggle to keep from breaking.

Over the Golden Age arc, we learn about Guts' past. We see Guts living a hard life full of abuse. People who hurt Guts tend to end up dead, either by his hand or something else. It's a familiar, repetitive cycle until Griffith enters the picture.

Griffith captivates Guts immediately. For the first time, Guts follows someone because he wants to. He could have survived without Griffith but something draws Guts to him. It's never made clear what that pull is, though there's plenty of fuel for speculation. The time that Guts spends with the Band of the Hawk is the happiest time in his life.

Then, the Eclipse happens. We don't know what Griffith is actually thinking when he does this. All we know is the truth of the moment: the Eclipse happens, and unmitigated pain follows for Guts, Casca and the rest of the Band.

I think Berserk resonated because no-one knows what Griffith is thinking. Survivors of the Eclipse are too busy trying to not be completely broken by their trauma. The pain supercedes everything. When you go through something like this, your mind races to understand why. Why did they do this? Do I matter that little? Did they even think of me at all? The scale of the Eclipse is obviously larger than most people experience, but the dynamic is the same.

Why would Griffith do this? What is the purpose of the Eclipse? Did he never care for Guts? Did he care, just not enough? Was the Band of the Hawk just a tool? Why does the world see Griffith as a saviour? We don't get get those answers and likely never will.

What we do get, though, is a chance to see Guts, Casca and others heal. Life still goes on, somehow, even in the world of Berserk. Guts makes new friends. He reunites with old ones. He gets stronger and understands new things about himself. And more than anything else he processes his pain.

There's a reality where Guts gets his final showdown with Griffith and kills him. There's another where Guts finds a way to move on and is no longer consumed by his anger and hatred. I'm not going to pretend that I wouldn't have loved to see Miura finish his story. The ambiguity is going to be hard to deal with. Many people who have been wronged will never get answers for the questions they have about what happened to them. It's infuriating and leads some people to never heal. It's a credit to Miura's imagination that he created a world which could be so expansive. It's a credit to his artistry that this world could still mirror our own in so many different ways.

Berserk is a story about someone whose abuser moves on when they aren't ready to. Griffith flourishes and furthers his inscrutable goals. However, Guts flourishes too. The hope of the story is that Guts gets a chance to live for himself despite everything, and I think that's a message that resonates with everyone who has been a victim.

[angstymdzsthoughts]

Hmm.....I was thinking about the blood pool child!WWX and was wondering if he still fell in love with LWJ. In my mind, it would sort of go like this:

Despite being made of resentment and of death, Wei Wuxian could still feel normal human emotions. It’s just......not many people could bring that out of him. He felt nothing but hatred for YZY, felt distant from JFM, felt envy from JC, felt warmth from JYL.

It was a pleasant surprise to feel something different for that cold Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian didn’t know what there was about that man, but WWX wanted him. And anyone else who dared to think they could have him could just die. What was this emotion, he wondered?

Lan Wangji was dangerous.

His skill and precision with a blade was awe inspiring. His dedication to cultivation had yielded incredible results. He was unyielding and unwavering in the face of horrifying beasts and men too powerful for their own good. His sense of righteousness was unparallel.

Lan Wangji could slaughter him in seconds and there was nothing Wei Ying could do about it.

But what really made him dangerous was the frankly addictive feelings he oozed out when Wei Ying was around. They lured him in so easily that it was embarrassing. Those feelings, so rich and sweet and amazing that Wei Ying sometimes felt like he could get high off them, made Wei Ying stupid. He danced around Lan Wangji like a fool just to bask in those feelings for even a handful if seconds.

It was stupid. It was so stupid.

He didnt doubt that Lan Wangji would cut him down if he knew what he was. That he wasnt human. That he was a monster who thrived in resentment and wore a human form like it was a costume.

But everytime Lan Wangji saw him and those feelings bursted out like a danm breaking and releasing an ocean it swept Wei Ying away.