I know you like to be welcoming to everyone, but it’s okay to not ship your OCs with everyone else’s. I can’t imagine how overwhelmed you get trying to make everyone happy. And I also can’t imagine how many people are struggling for your attention when you make a new character and the only interest they have in it is shipping. It sort of breaks my heart to see you make a new oc and the only people who seem to care about it are people trying to make a ship.
I see you’re getting burned out more often and taking a lot of breaks… but your blog should be a fun place, not something you avoid because you’re stressed by it. Maybe limiting requests or only keeping OC ships to good friends would help you relax. You don’t have to take my advice if this makes you happy. I’m just a bit worried about you. Especially since you seem tired all the time and recently made a post saying you were worried about people being upset with you if your characters already had ships and you didn’t want to add any more.
I would also like to say that some people like the shipping because they just want free art of their OC and less because they actually want to bond with you. Many people do not realize they are being like this.
Your real friends will not be bothered by you putting up boundaries. The only people that will be upset are selfish, too young to understand, or people who didn’t consider your feelings at all.
Just take care of yourself, Shy. I’m sorry if I’m overstepping. And of if I have this totally wrong, just say so.
You're right, I recognize that I've been doing this lately...
It's a fact, I'm very afraid of making others upset, I really want to please everyone. I've actually been feeling a little overwhelmed lately, but I don't know how to deal with it.
I love making ships with my OCs with the OCs of my moots, I really really like this interaction, I was just getting worried about the situation where more than one person wants to make ships with a single OC, I'm afraid of causing confusion with that.
I'll get better with this, I swear, I even want to tell you that I've been trying to be more like you, you know? "Post what you want" I've been trying to do this more often and it's making me happy🥹
I have several plans for the future with my OCs and I'm optimistic about that, even if I'm still a bit clumsy at communicating, and I'm pretty sure that everything I wrote here must be a little confusing because it really took me by surprise, I really value your attention and words so much and after I read everything (including what you said in the other posts too), I started crying, in a good way❤️
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Actually, sorry, I still don't see why TOTK is imperialistic. The imperialistic one does seem to be Ganon in his greed to conquer. I'm not saying I doubt your argumentsz just... Could you help me understand that?
Hey, yes! No problem at all. If that's okay with you, I'll compile my arguments in a series of links where I reply to previous asks.
Again, I want to reiterate that I don't think what we see in-game is secretely an imperialistic story about Rauru being a bad guy. We can speculate all we want, but there is no evidence in-world for Ganondorf to be anything other than a horrible baddie. My point is not that Ganondorf is secretely misunderstood in TotK, but that I believe Nintendo should have constructed its storytelling in a way that avoided falling into very loaded narrative patterns with real-life imperialistic echoes, and I am criticizing that they didn't try to deliver a version of Hyrule that gracefully accepted its own history, its influence over the world and its inherent moral grayness, instead of nervously scrubbing itself of substance out of fear of its own legacy.
This is the big one, that addresses the game's framing and why I think TotK's version of Hyrule parallels imperialist narrative movements.
This one talks about my problem with Rauru's character writing and what doesn't land for me.
This one is about why I don't think Nintendo is cackling about that good imperialist story they did, that it was probably accidental but still worth mentioning.
And this one, which I assume is the previous ask you sent me, adresses why I think saying that the zonais (and Sonia) are also PoC-coded kind of misses the point in my opinion.
Hope this clarifies my argument! I feel like, as the conversation matures in the fandom, this specific position (not talking for anyone else but me here) is getting kind of warped into something that it's not, or being conflated with the way people are creatively invested in the characters, which, while I certainly won't deny one obviously feeds off the other as far as I'm concerned*, are two separate things.
Again, it's completely fine to disagree! Or to agree and not be put off (everyone stop feeling guilty over the rare joy we manage to catch mid-flight --we can critique media without demanding people to Feel Bad as a result of the conclusions): it's a really fun game and I did play over a hundred hours! But I think the conversation is at least worth considering in a way that isn't caricatured as its weaker arguements.
*(to be very transparent so my own position is crystal clear, and it helps people making up their own mind: Ganondorf touches me as a character because of the way he inherently tries to fight against the limitations Hyrule/The Goddesses/the fiction itself try to force upon him --to devastating and unproductive results-- so the more his own canon tries to flatten him and the more poignant his character becomes to me. Won't deny that! It's this exact realization that made me spiral into hyperfocus to begin with --I am deeply touched by themes of tragic ambition and the impossibility of meaningful rebellion while STILL willingly burning everything down for the sake of refusing your place in the universe, even when the only thing accomplished by the end was the unflinching expression of your agency as well as General Suffering. So of course he would just catch me by the throat like that, that bastard. That being said, I don't think TotK Ganondorf (or any Ganondorf tbh) is a poor little meow meow, especially not in this game's canon where he is *obviously* nothing more than a threat to be stumped and doesn't ever meaningfully oppose you ideologically, which is kind of my problem. Even OoT Ganondorf, simplistic as he may be, questions Hyrule's inherent stability, inevitability and glory in many, many ways. Here's another, final post about why I liked the gerudos better in OoT despite All of The Problems, that partially addresses this exact point!)
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I know nothing about ur pokemon au tell me about Chuuyas team pls- i wanna know the poke-parallels between his team and Dazais
Ah!!! i'm glad you asked!!! :D
In this AU, Dazai is the strongest of Yokohama's Gym Leaders. He specializes in Ghost types! His team consists of a Dragapult, a houndstone, a spiritomb, a froslass, a mimikyu, and a lampent! here's so fun(debatable) facts about his team!
he used to be an admin for the Port Mafia, so he still has like. a big fat kill count. So that's where the Spiritomb comes from. yeah.
Dragapult is usually the one dragging dazai out of his attempts. It's been with him since even before Dazai joined the mafia, so it's his signature pokemon
His mimikyu likes playing with children. Dazai often leaves it with Kyouka and Kenji to play with whenever the gym leaders get together
Dazai found Lampent when he visited Lupin after Oda's death. It was hanging around the alleyway, and he decided to catch it.
froslass is always freezing him. yk like james in the pokemon anime with all of his pokemon. bc he's pathetic like that. Dazai caught froslass on a mission with Kunikida, shortly after becoming a Gym Leader. (yes this froslass is the nightmare of all of his challengers).
Chuuya tried so hard to convince Dazai to catch a Greavard. Dazai eventually relented, but only because he could name it chibi. eventually he got actually attached to it and evolved it to Houndstone
Chuuya, on the other hand, is still an admin for the Port Mafia
His team consists of flying types. This is because, as his brother Verlaine is French from Kalos, got Chuuya super into sky battles. he prefers sky battles, but he's obviously just as formidable in normal battles. In Chuuya's team he has a corviknight, a skarmory, a honchkrow, a mismagius, a talonflame, and an oricorio (sensu style)
Honchkrow is his signature pokemon! it's been with him since he was in the Sheep
the oricorio, believe it or not, is actually from Kouyou and not Dazai, despite the ghost typing. its usually the pokemon to drag chuuya away when he's overworking himself.
the talonflame was gift from Verlaine! yk. as an apology. for killing the flags. Chuuya raised it from an egg. Verlaine battles with it every once in a while to see how it's doing. the battle's just an excuse to spend time with his little brother though
Corviknight was a gift from Adam as well.
Mismagius used to be Dazai's, but he left Chuuya its pokeball when he left the mafia so its his now :P
Chuuya had to add skarmory to his team during the DHC but ended up bonding with it and now its a staple in his team
Back when they were in the mafia, soukoku were often paired up for double battles on missions.
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Visions of Red
A story of what became of the Crimson Duelists at the time of the Ala Mhigan Revolution. Proceed with caution, and mind the tags before reading. This story is long and unforgiving in its telling.
They'd all been sitting down together around the campfire, under the stars in Gyr Abania; Virdjala to be specific. The stars had loomed overhead and they'd since put up their tents for the night. One of them had been stirring the spoon inside the boiling pot to make sure it remained hot.
Crickets chirping, a breath or two of laughter, words escaping simple lips; engrossed in conversation. If one looked closely they would see the darkened clouds passed the shimmering lights shift gently and ever so slightly.
"And I'm telling you, Verholy is a lot stronger than Verflare," laughed M'neia, her ears jolting with her excitement as she waved the spoon around, the steam wafting into the skies above. "I've been practicing it for the longest time and I think I'm really getting the hang of it! Wouldn't you agree, X'rhun?"
No response.
"X'rhun?" Those deep green eyes stared back at the other, mostly looking at the dip of the red hat, arms folded over said man's chest, legs crossed as he sat upon the floor. "Are you asleep? We haven't even gotten to the good stuff."
"I'm delving into my thoughts a little more about tomorrow." The Deep Red spoke, lifting his head ever so slightly, eyes squinting as though he had actually been asleep. "One of us is going to need to scout ahead before we begin making preparations in regards to the Revolution." He gave a softened smile. "I just want us to make sure we clear and cover all our bases before we think we have this won. We can never be too cautious with things the more rapidly they approach."
The Highlander, Declan, scratched the side of his head before taking off his red hat, playing with the feather. "We'll see through to the end of this right? Our families will get to live the lives they deserve, right?"
X'rhun shot his head up to gaze at the other, and the other Miqo'te; who had been stirring the pot, V'yanat, had long since began to stand up straight.
"I should expect nothing less from us. Be in mind, we've done things like this before. The only difference is that more has been riding on us since the beginning. We cannot let our nerves and our insecurities outweigh our very reasons for doing this."
"For Ala Mhigo," M'neia answered, sitting down on one of the stumps, where her tail moved to rest on her leg. "Aye, that's the task set before us because we're Duelists." Crimson Duelists to be exact, those who fought for the justice of those who endured never-ending violence and subjugation that may may find peace where it once belonged. There were sixteen of them in total, each one consisting of squads based in groups of four. After barely reaching his twenty - second birthday months ago, X'rhun was the one who initially was granted the title of Deep Red.
It symbolized his maturity and his unyielding loyalty to his cause. No different than the ordinary rank of being a captain. Each Crimson Duelist was handed their own distinguishing title to establish race.
The Deep Red: The leader, the one who formed the squad and otherwise overseas their tasks and accomplishments.
The Tempered Red: The second in command, granted very similar advantages to the Deep, but otherwise would step in if needed.
The Loyal Red, and the Burning Red. The list could and would progress on and on, each time becoming a revamped version of what it used to be. New titles, the perks that came with it and the like. The Crimson Duelists shared in only one thing: Red. Each delving into Red Magic at several points in their life, and if they grew in their own mastery, perhaps they too joined the Duelists.
X'rhun held up his crystal medium, letting it rotate slowly as he observed it, the crackles of the fire and the flickering embers illuminating his relaxed expression. "Lambard agreed to take his squad to the other end and make refuge there. All that's left is to scout and retrieve information regarding the whereabouts of the Garleans should they proceed any farther." Clenching his fist, he slipped the medium back at his side. "I assume we all know our positions."
A band of three nods responded in kind, without words, without hesitation. That's how his squad was, and had been since they first formed. Whilst each squad was bestowed a leader, X'rhun and Lambard being two of them, reviving Red Magick didn't come easily. They had to gather those who were willing. Declan was the first, having wanted to be both a protector and a fighter for his people and his family. V'yanat was quickly next, being spared with a second chance after being caught in a small group of aggro'd enemies. He had quickly become second in command.
It was him indeed that recruited their newest member M'neia, and whilst she'd been with them for a little over a year; this is where it truly did matter. She'd finally get to see the front-lines of all she'd been working up toward. Close knit and supportive, each time they ended their nights beside a campfire, darkened and tanned skin glimmering against the burns of flames, bright eyes wide as they gazed at the stars . . . X'rhun was always sure that he'd never felt more home with them, fighting beside them.
"We best be getting off to sleep," V'yanat grunted as he stood over the fires, grabbing the bucket and slipping it over the flames, dousing it immediately. The once brilliant red hats now concealed to the darkness. "Or at least I am, and you know I like my beauty sleep."
"Ain't really going to help you, lad," X'rhun laughed, standing up. "But I agree. I'll scout out tomorrow. Await my signal before engaging."
--
Silence had filled their location for quite some time, as they'd all curled up in their makeshift beds under the stars. Save for, unfortunately . . . two of them. X'rhun Tia was never one to go to bed as early as the others, finding it easier to take less sleep than it was to rouse when he'd been given a good amount of hours. However tonight he was still under the stars, leaning back against a tree as he looked at them. Hat resting on the dirt as his whitened ears rested in a relaxed state. They flicked suddenly and his head jerked upon hearing a noise.
M'neia jolted, tail pointing outwards in her surprise. "I didn't think you heard me get up."
"Red Magick does quite wonders to one's hearing if you can find the means to amplify it." He watched as the shorter Miqo'te sat down beside him. "Why aren't you asleep, lass?"
"Nervous for tomorrow," M'neia propped her legs so she could wrap her arms around them, staring into nothingness. "I don't want to let mother down."
"She will be proud of you for all you've accomplished in a short amount of time, Neia. Red Magic does not come easy for most, but your improvement would deny that statement as quickly as it rolls off the tongue. Have more faith and confidence in your skills." They locked eyes for a moment, and X'rhun smiled. "You've found a kindred spirit in the arts, my friend. You're ready."
Her cheeks squished when she smiled, feeling her eyes light with tears before she stood up. "You always know what to say. Maybe that's why you're a really good leader."
X'rhun shook his head, reaching up to meet her hand when she showed it, clapping them together with a squeeze. "Can you sleep now?"
"Easily. I'll see you on the field." The Seeker watched the other depart back to the tiny circle a few ilms from where X'rhun had been resting, noting that she quite quickly slipped back into the rugged blankets and curled up under the stars. He shut his eyes and leaned his head back against the tree. Sleep would find him easy enough, he just had to sit in quiet a while longer.
--
His eyes stayed shut as he listened, despite the hat covering his ears, he let the vibrations around him carry their weight. The cold breeze sapping away any amount of sweat that collected upon his forehead and neck. He was never at a disadvantage when regarding his disability for hearing, letting the waves of red mana and black mana magnify their strengths to grant him what many have never lost in their lifetime.
Beneath his fingertips he could feel the Earth tremble. Rocks shook and thumped, eyebrows grimacing as he waited. Things or others have been moving, shifting, walking. The air smelt off, caked in unfamiliar scents and bad intentions. He felt his nose twitch at the sensation.
Then his eyes burst open, wide and alert, heart hammering straight into his throat as his ears flicked. X'rhun's head wasted no time turning in the direction he didn't think he'd need to. Ever.
"Gods, no!"
One wouldn't deny that Red Mages weren't the fastest amongst those who considered themselves combatants. They were dancers, they were swordsmen, they were artists bathed in crimson. They stepped in, and stepped out whilst making careful love with every step they found their boots. There was speed and execution when it needed to be done.
Running may not have been part of that, but that didn't stop the Miqo'te from being spent with energy as he closed the distance to his destination. When there, he skidded to a halt, but found no strength and had to fight to keep from collapse at the sight before him. Mouth agape, he could only reach his hand out.
Sprawled across the campsite, was his squad. His squad, his family, his team, his . . . best friends. Each one laid out in different areas, and it was clear to X'rhun that they'd been ambushed. Caught unaware at moments most vulnerable.
Declan was stuck against the trunk of a tree, gripping his stomach as his face warped in pain, despite it peering at the ground. Mouth open, eyes wide. Whoever done him in was careful to nail him there as a means to put him on display. X'rhun's shaky hands lifted the Highlander's face to properly shut those eyes, pressing his lips to the brown strands of hair on his head to bestow a goodbye kiss.
"I'm so sorry my friend, I know you fought with your life. Had I been here, perhaps you could've escaped." Blinking quickly, X'rhun reached into his soiled clothing, wincing as he did so, and yanked out the blade that attached him there, catching the other as he fell from the tree. All that . . . that weight, he almost couldn't bear it alone. His legs buckled and he gently lay the other mercifully into the dirt.
This wouldn't do, they needed a proper burial. He'd do it himself.
Staggering to his feet, X'rhun was careful to step around the contents of the struggle in search of his companions. It shouldn't have been difficult since there were only three, but he couldn't keep his eyes off the destruction that riddled the site.
Splayed out onto his stomach, V'yanat was next to be found. The Miqo'te had appeared to be crawling away, leg sliced and bearing a clear wound across his stomach, but he refused to drop the Rapier that now lay within his limp fingers. His second in command, brown ears caked in dried red, even his markings, dark and noticeable, sported some red patches.
X'rhun rolled him over with a shuddering breath, bracing him against his leg as he hoisted him up. The way his head bent back so quickly made the other cry out, turning away for a mere few seconds before turning back to close those unwavering brown eyes. It was unfair, there used to be so much life in them.
"Be well my friend," he whispered against his forehead as he lay a similar kiss as he had for Declan, lowering him gently to the earth. "I'll hope your spirit walks with me, I always welcomed your advice. I'll never forget you. . ."
X'rhun remained kneeling for the time being, unable to find the strength to see the remainder of the carnage, bowing his head in silent prayer, until he heard it.
A cough. A pained, clinging to life, terrified and hopeless cough. Followed by a whimper and shuddering quickened breathing. He shot his head toward the source and jumped upright, quickly side stepping everything to get to where this voice was. Where -
. . . M'neia . . .
"My gods, you're still - !" X'rhun quickly knelt down, taking the shuddering Miqo'te into his arms, holding her with both mindfulness and care and attention as she convulsed in his arms. "How are -"
"They - they have - they're all dead . . . they got 'em. All of them!" She was speaking too fast, panting as she clung to life that constantly kept sapping away. Tears welled in her eyes as she felt her hand get encompassed by X'rhun's, a last squeeze. Something she wasn't allowed to forget. "A - a letter came by and - and. . . slaughtered, e. . . every last one of the - . . . Duelists."
She was swallowing and tasting iron at this point. X'rhun's eyes widened. So they weren't the only ones ambushed? So his squad was the last one. They'd gotten notice too late and the other squads had already been vanquished then? His thoughts ran to Lambard for a moment or two before a groan from below brought him back.
"My mother - X'rh. . . my - mother, she can't know I - I tried I. . . please. I don't - please don't let me I - I never got."
"Sssh, ssh, ssh. . . Stop talking, stop." His hand shook as he kept squeezing a hold on her cold hand, attempting to liven her body with any amount of Vercure he could spare. "Be still my friend, you're going to be just fine. I'll ensure it."
C'mon, c'mon, c'mon. . . Dammit, work! You're no healer but work damn you!
It was no good, her aether was pooling out at alarming rates, his Vercure could not compensate. Her other hand twitched against the rocks, grappling for anything that felt tangible to the tingles that radiated through her skin.
"Gods I'm so sorry," X'rhun whispered, forehead resting against hers, lower lip quivering as he kept trying more and more to force Vercure to become more effective. "I let you all down I -"
No response.
He couldn't bear the thought. He kept going, this time switching his process to Verraise. It was such a bad idea, the way he felt no connection to her aether with his, because there was none. He'd wasted enough time just attempting before. Several seconds later he gave up, peering down with blurred vision at her peaceful expression. She was the youngest of them all.
Her first time out here and after all she fought to get to this moment, this is how X'rhun repaid her!? Letting his emotions overtake him, he held her closer, rocking her form slowly as though he were sending her to sleep. He took a few moments to allow everything to drain that he held so desperately to.
He cried. For twenty minutes he never let her go. She had waited for him, she knew he would return and she wanted him to be the last thing she saw. She saved that energy to give him word, let him know so that he, at the very least could be spared.
--
They all now rest side by side at a small riverbank, out of view of others. Their Rapiers pressed to the Earth where they sleep. Crystal Mediums shoved hard into the sands so they would not be disturbed. It was the hardest thing he had to do.
He had bowed to them, tears staining the soils until at last it could finally rain. He let the world know that they too would be fought for. All Ala Mhigans deserved peace and salvation and quiet when they needed it most.
X'rhun would fight for them. His hat, once held in his hand, now rested against his head. He had since removed a few pieces from their person to return to their families.
The earrings from V'yanat, several rings from Declan, and M'neia's necklace. Mementos for their families, if any of them were still around. Things had since gone South from before up until now. He'd search them out if he had to. They deserved it.
"Fairwell my friends," he whispered, raising his Crimson Medium up into the skies above, Rapier following as it pointed sun-ward. With a quick flare or two, Verholy was first, followed by Verflare. It was always their favorites.
With his heart as heavy as lead, X'rhun turned, hand to his chest, and he walked.
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