tbh one of, if not my absolute favorite part about ffxiv, is the small little moments/sections where nothing super big or like. Plot Important happens, but that give both the characters and us, the players, some much appreciated down-time to just. Feel things. And to process what's happened and what's going on or to just. Let us exist, in the moment. In a much more grounded and human way than when there's Big And Important Things happening.
The biggest(imo) and earliest example of this is right after the Waking Sands get raided in ARR, and WoL turns to the church for guidance. The entire section of us helping them gather and bury our fallen comrades, and especially bringing Noraxia home to Little Solace so she can be laid to rest in her homeland, by her own people and in their own cultural ways, was so so important to me.
Because it wasn't just replacable allies cast aside for shock value anymore, it was real. These deaths were real and meant something. I got to actually process what just happened, and I got to watch Banana go through it right with me. And not only did it make it feel real, it also gave me a sense of closure. These people, these friends, are dead, but they also got to be treated with the respect they deserve and laid to rest properly.
And that, more than anything else, made me want to save the world. It's grounded and grounding. This world, and these people, meant something to me, the player.
And there's tons of stuff like that throughout the game, especially in shadowbringers and endwalker.
In shb we have, for example, Lyna venting her anger and frustration after the sin eater attack in Lakeland. She's on her knees yelling on the verge of tears while punching the ground, so furious at her helplessness and powerlessness, at everyone having come so far yet set back because some megalomaniacal tyrant deemed it so.
In ew we have Urianger being approached by Moenbryda's parents, who confront him about not confiding in them about his grief. When Bloewyda starts to scold him, he of course reacts guiltily, believing they blame him, only for him to be completely caught off guard when she instead goes in to hug him, telling him he should have let them grieve with him. And he just. Breaks down. He's been holding these feelings, this grief inside him all this time, and now that he is not only told it's okay to let it out, but by her very own parents at that, he just can't keep it in anymore. He cries for Moenbryda, right then and there, being held lovingly by her family.
And the thing is, these scenes aren't necessary, strictly speaking. The plot at large could go on without them, the events that happen around them are not changed by these moments in any way.
But still, they are so so important, to the world, to the characters, to the players. Everything feels real and impactful now, every death means something, every tragedy, every person, feels real.
And that, to me, is what makes this story so special.
368 notes
·
View notes
cw: this got long sorry 😔 but creepy/perv bakugou, recording, film major bkg x art major reader, masturbation, coercion, dubcon before it just becomes con, voyeurism/exhibitionism
as an art major, you typically did some works for a few students on campus; for their plays, as background pieces while they danced, a cover for their released songs. it wasn’t out of the ordinary for people to ask you to create something for them, and you enjoyed it more often than not. but, you weren’t usually the art itself.
Bakugou is a friend’s friend that you’ve seen a few times, ran into at the library or at coffee shops. he’s a film major, and always looks so unhappy about the whole thing, as if he didn’t choose it himself. you joke to Mina that you think he’ll graduate and become one of those directors that hate everything and yell at the actors constantly and later on get sued for being a dickhead. you never say it to him though—you’ve never spoken more than a couple words to the man.
it’s why it shocks you when he approaches you one day. it’s after one of your painting classes, and he stands outside the door with a frown and his hands shoved in his pockets, his eyebrows scrunched as if pissed at the mere sight of you. he asks you, in that low and gruff tone of his, if you could star in his final project for the semester. says it’s supposed to be a film made with this criteria and that, but, you’ve kind of checked out on the conversation after the first sentence.
“You mean, you want me to create something and that be the star of your film?” you ask him, feeling so intimidated at his stature. he always seems to loom, his hair shadowing the lights above, creates a cast over a portion of his face, makes his eyes look…unsettling. like they’re looking straight through your flesh, can find the marrow in your bones. he scoffs like you’ve offended him, rolling his eyes into his skull, mouth pulled tight.
“No.” his voice is firm, gaze concentrated only on you, like the halls are empty and you’re the focus of his lens. “I want you to star in it.”
his words confuse you—you’ve never presented yourself as an actor before, never alluded to wanting to be in the spotlight if not for what you create with your hands. but he shuffles on his feet, looks desperate even. there’s some hemming and hawing for a minute or so—why not choose Mina?—she’s busy—why choose me?—‘cause you’d be perfect for my short film—what’s it about?—you’ll find out once you get the script.
and even after you hesitantly agree and get the script—you still don’t understand what you’re doing. why you’re here, why you’re the only person, why it has to be a solo film, why there’s damn near zero lines in the entirety of the have-to-be forty five minute film.
the scenes are all so long, and maybe it’s because movies aren’t your forte or chosen major, but you just don’t get it. one scene; you’re staring at yourself in the mirror while Bakugou holds a small, black camera over your shoulder. he’s eerily quiet behind you, whispers out a faint fuckin’ go when you have to wash your face in the sink, makes you do it over because your movements are too jerky and unnatural.
the rest of the scenes go that way; you doing regular at home activities, being put under a lens, quietly barked at to do this and move that way and fix your hair and remember to frown.
“Isn’t there another way to film this?” you ask him on the fifth day of shooting in his spacious loft. there’s a bubble bath scene coming up, one you dont understand the importance of, but Bakugou tells you it’s the most necessary part of the entire thing.
“No,” he grunts out, looking at you from under his lashes as he sits on the lid of the toilet. “But I’ll make it soapy, so the camera won’t see much.” the camera? much? you weren’t worried so much about what the camera captured as you were the man behind it. he looks at you with such intensity, you feel naked already despite the robe you wear that’s suspiciously already your size.
he leaves the bathroom when you sink in the hot water, returns before you can say it’s okay, hears the water splashing and thinks that’s good enough. he kneels on the floor beside you, camera pointed directly in your face, makes your chest hot and your skin feel prickly. the scene passes on regularly enough; you run the water over your arms, tilt your head back as you sigh, whisper the few lines scripted, lean back and close your eyes, sigh again. it’s almost relaxing, makes you forget about the friend of a friend recording you naked right now. almost.
“Touch yourself.” Bakugou suddenly demands, hushed and quiet behind the camera. your eyes immediately shoot open, looking to him in question, how he’s eerily still in his spot hovering over you.
“Huh?” you ask, unsure if you heard him correctly, looking around the rounded lens in your face, trying to ignore the red blinking light. but Bakugou only frowns.
“It’s a masturbation scene. Touch yourself.” he repeats, voice louder, more demanding this time. your stomach twists at the thought of doing something so intimate in front of him. he’s a handsome guy, for sure, even made you consider asking him out after this, figured he was just serious about his work and awkward about certain things. but…something had been off about this entire thing since the start.
“But—but I don’t, I’m not,” you stutter, sitting up a little, the bubbles covering your chest starting to disperse with your movements. but Bakugou only sits a little higher on his knees, finally pulling the camera away from his face for the first time since he’s asked you to do this for him.
“You want me to fail?” he asks, booming voice eerily quiet in the silent bathroom, carmine eyes dull, shaded over with something terrible. “Then do it.” he tells you when you shake your head quickly.
you stare at him until he gets back into position again, camera back pointed at you. when he doesn’t say anything else, you swallow thickly, wondering if the art that will come out of this will be worth it. so you listen, sneak a hand under the water, start touching yourself in a way you never have in front of anyone.
is it bad to say that it’s exhilarating? being watched and recorded by someone who breathes so heavily every time your voice hiccups? being directed to touch your chest next when the suds start to disappear and your nipples start to peek through? is it bad that you want him to send you this portion of his film, only, just so you can watch yourself again and again? make a portrait of yourself with your fingers on your nipples and your knees raising from the water and your head thrown back from the intensity in oil pastels?
“That’s a wrap.” Bakugou announces when you finish, head spinning and still panting. you look over to him, how he closes the camera, the obvious bulge in his pants. “I’ll get you a towel.”
you wonder when’s the next time he’ll need you. or better yet—maybe he could be the star in your final drawing project? you had finished it already but, what was the harm in starting over with him as your muse? as naked as you are? camera not blocking his face so you can paint the similarities of his blushing cheeks and eyes when you direct him to look at you? to touch his chest? to play with himself just like that?
167 notes
·
View notes
GAH LONG POST..
xingqiu and chongyun have insanely good potential for angst my god. xingqiu in particular is so fun to think about in the context of chongyun. what do YOU know about chivalry boy
thinking about how he and hu tao kinda operate on similar notions of justice and all that shmick except hu tao is more strictly averse to disrupting the Natural Order (incredibly vague and generalized concept rn sorry) whilst xingqiu sets his principles more arbitrarily. chongyun's presence somehow foils a lot of his notable character traits. gestures hands vaguely in the air but sth sth hu tao would not approve of xq's moral infractions
perhaps im just reading too deep into this but shrugs ill admit something's changed in Me the last 2 years and coming back to xq and cy has me like. scratches head now hold on im not entirely sure if i even like the way xq treats cy. its kinda one of the main points of their dynamic- the whole.. pranking this oblivious guy who i really adore etc. but its deeper implications leave me a little unsatisfied and a little troubled (?).. in the long run i personally dont really see anything substantially appealing about their (leaning towards romantic in this context) relationship other than like ?? the tropes that mhy imposed upon them. they were created as a compatible Duo ykwim. they reference each other a lot in their lore and even in-game but.. idk maybe i just view them separately instead of a joint unit that anaylzing them individually revealed a lot of crevices and cracks in their ship that's built upon their mainstream appeal
but anyway i've thought a lot about them as a duo and is it nuts to say i like them as a romantic ship but if they were unrequited. i can see them working out but it necessitates a complete subversion and reconstruction of xingqiu (chara development basically LOL) on my part that i would totally invest myself in but im not entirely sure how to execute it
i like xingqiu a LOT as a flawed character. i wouldnt go as far as to say hes toxic, just very conflicted and insecure. hes a fun character to think about. re: the hu tao bit i mentioned above, i think they would have a really fun, witty, and transformative friendship
but anyway. yes i like xq and i still like xy. theyre just a bit more complicated now aha. im still capable of enjoying fluffy ship dynamics but lately ive been in a Character Study Mood ... mmm.. ive yet to organize my chongming thoughts
20 notes
·
View notes
Being in fandoms where the characters are clearly based on other pieces of media/famous figures is so much fun because then some of my ships look like this:
Parentified Goldilocks who is also The Beast x Avoidance attachment Beauty who is ALSO also The Beast, one of my fav moments with them is when they off the Minotaur together who is ALSO also also The Beast
Little Red Riding Hood if she was also the Wolf and has galloons of repressed trauma x Snow White but she’s heavily knight coded and the poster child of daddy issues
Edgar Allen Poe’s Lenore x Annabel Lee but they’re in gay ghost love
The poem ‘The Last Rose of Summer’ x Odin’s raven Huginn but they’re exes still in love in a milf yuri divorce that ends super mega tragically and domino effects mommy issues out the ass
Historical figures Cleopatra x Frida Kahlo with the most chef’s kiss height difference you’ve ever seen
A polycule with Joan of Arc x Mulan x Thor x Achilles but they’re all genderbent/trans
The Velveteen Rabbit x fashion icon Coco Chanel if she was a lesbian with a gun
Frankenstein’s monster x a different sapphic Cleopatra bc baby gays <3333
Okay okay that black cat from Poe’s, well, The Black Cat x Poe’s Eulalie is cute yes
But I actually really REALLY love Poe’s Eulalie x Poe’s Berenice bc they’re “me and the bad bitch I pulled by being autistic” personified
The Snow Queen with mega daddy issues x Robin Hood if he was a socialist lesbian I SAIDDDD ITTTT
Imma say it historical figures JFK x Confucius were adorable bros
Aesop’s Fisherman x Odin’s other bird Munin you will always be famous my tragic old man yaoi <////3
Y’all will really have to hear me out here when I say Cinderella if she fucken snapped x ice cream Mad Hatter because couples who are terrible to each other but in a “only I’m allowed to be a horrid to them” way can be so funny
And I could go o n fer ages but the point is imagine explaining these ships to someone like 30 years ago with ZERO context their heads would explode and it’d be so funny
137 notes
·
View notes
cw: mention of previous abuse, dad Dabi, mom reader, mention of childbirth, angst
new dad touya that doesn’t know how to deal with his son. he’s growing too fast and his smiles are so big, but he’s still not sure how to just be with him.
touya isn’t abusive in the slightest, not like his shit for brains dad. he can acknowledge, after you’ve drilled it into his head on cold nights where you had to hold his quivering cheeks in your hand, that he’s better. that he’s trying. that he’s a great dad.
he doesn’t really believe it. it’s hard to believe that he’s a great dad when his son, still covered in that fresh newborn smell, stares up at him with matching azure blue eyes, the little shit, and he finds it hard to smile back. it’d be easier to smile back if he could guarantee a life with no trauma, with the perfect pair of parents, that he’d love him as much as his tiny little face deserved.
touya can still hear the labor and delivery nurse tell him that he must’ve gotten on your nerves for the baby to look so much like him, and that they’ve never seen a baby that fresh out the womb smile so big at their dad. he hands the little bundle back to you, and glares at the nurse who hands him a tissue. he takes it anyway.
touya loves his son. so goddamn much that it hurts, but, he doesn’t know how to be a dad. and he knows that you don’t know how to be a mom either, that it’s a learning process for the both of you. but he’s so scared—he’s terrified that he’ll fuck up this innocent brat with his ruin. with his scars and history and the want to better but never knowing how to just be.
so he leaves. it’s the day after your sons first birthday that you celebrated together in your home.
you thought everything was okay, that he was starting to get the hang of being a dad. he did everything right, why couldn’t he stay? he sat on the floor with your son and changed his diaper and made him giggle those addicting baby giggles? he carried your son everywhere whenever he cried after being sat down without a single complaint? he helped him open his birthday presents? he didn’t smash the cake in his face, only swiped a little icing on his sons nose to hear that addicting baby giggle? he held your son like he could never let him go?
how could he just go like this? you thought he was finally learning and accepting how to be a dad? what happened?
207 notes
·
View notes