#but he's absolutely fascinating as a character

[sylusonychinus]

Day 5 - Love and Babysitters (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

Summary: What if the Love and deepspace characters turned into toddlers ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

a/n: i was inspired by the anime gakuen babysitters :3

Zayne – The Moody Nap Refuser

Zayne was the grumpiest little prince you had ever babysat. His two moods were dramatic sulking and pretending he wasn’t tired.

Hated nap time with a passion. The moment you mentioned it, he’d frown, cross his arms, and glare at you like you just betrayed him. “I don’t need naps. I’m big.”

If he got even a little sleepy, he’d start yawning, then immediately deny it. “I’m NOT tired. I’m just… thinking.” Thinking while rubbing his eyes and swaying on his feet.

You tried to read him a bedtime story to lull him to sleep, but he just kept dramatically groaning, “Ugh, this is boring,” while fighting to keep his eyes open.

He had a habit of curling up in random places when he finally gave in—on the couch, under the table, or even inside a laundry basket. But the moment you tucked him into bed? Instant protest. “I wasn’t sleeping! I was just—just resting my eyes!”

If you tried to leave after he finally dozed off, he’d grumble in his sleep, “Stay.” You were now trapped.

Zayne was a little ball of stubbornness who had one sworn enemy: nap time. The moment you mentioned the word, he crossed his arms, furrowed his brows, and glared at you as if you had just betrayed him. “I don’t need naps,” he huffed, yawning almost immediately after. When you pointed it out, he scowled. “That wasn’t a real yawn.” For the next hour, he dramatically threw himself on the couch, claiming he was just resting, while his eyelids drooped lower and lower. You tried reading him a bedtime story, but every few pages, he groaned, “This is so boring.” The irony? He was asleep before you even reached the end. You sighed in relief—only for him to grumble in his sleep, “Don’t go…” Congratulations. You were now trapped beneath a grumpy, napping Zayne.

Caleb – The Overly Curious Chaos Machine

Caleb was a walking question mark. If he wasn’t asking why, he was pressing buttons, poking things, or running at full speed toward potential disaster.

Everything was a mystery to be solved. “Why is the sky blue?” “Why do I have to eat vegetables?” “Why do you look so tired?” (Because of you, Caleb.)

He was obsessed with gadgets. If there was a button, he would press it. At one point, he almost turned off the Wi-Fi, which was arguably a worse disaster than spilling juice all over the couch.

His favorite pastime? Taking things apart. If you lost sight of him for five minutes, he was either dismantling a remote or trying to “fix” the toaster (which wasn’t broken in the first place).

The scariest moment was catching him trying to poke an electrical socket with a spoon. When you yanked him away in a panic, he just tilted his head and asked, “But what happens if I put it back?”

The only way to keep him still was handing him a puzzle or something mechanical to tinker with—but that only worked for ten minutes before he was off causing trouble again.

Caleb was a whirlwind of curiosity and boundless energy, a tiny scientist with no regard for safety or limits. The questions never stopped—“What’s that?” “Why?” “How does it work?”—and for every answer you gave, he immediately had three more. His fascination with technology meant that if he saw a button, he had to press it. You once caught him with the TV remote, clicking every button at once. “What happens if I press all of them?” he asked, eyes shining with anticipation. (No, Caleb. Please don’t.) Danger? He had no concept of it. If there was something to climb, he was already halfway up before you could stop him. “I’m testing gravity!” he declared moments before nearly toppling off a chair. He had a habit of getting into things he absolutely shouldn’t—like the time you found him unscrewing the batteries from a clock. When you asked what he was doing, he simply blinked at you and said, “I was fixing it.” The clock, of course, wasn’t even broken. Despite his chaotic nature, he had a love for building things—Legos, block towers, even pillow forts—but five minutes later, he’d knock them down just to see how they collapsed. And his love for words was just as intense. The moment he learned a new one, he had to use it. He overheard someone say “catastrophe” once and, for the rest of the day, everything became one. “Oh no, my juice spilled! This is a catastrophe!” he gasped dramatically. You sighed, rubbing your temples, wondering how you were going to survive babysitting him for the rest of the day.

Xavier – The Shy Clingy One

Tiny Xavier was the definition of a koala. He refused to let go of you, always staying within a two-foot radius.

Super shy. The first time you showed up to babysit, he hid behind the couch and peeked out every few minutes, deciding whether or not he trusted you.

Once he warmed up to you, he latched onto your leg and refused to let go. If you moved, he shuffled along with you like a tiny shadow.

Didn’t like loud noises—if someone dropped something, he’d flinch and look up at you with big, watery eyes like the world was ending.

If he was nervous, he’d grip onto the hem of your shirt and hide his face in it. When you asked what was wrong, he’d just mumble, “Too scary…”

But once he felt safe? Total sweetheart. He’d bring you random objects like little toys or stickers and say, “For you.” (Even if it was just a rock he found outside.)

If he fell asleep on your lap, congratulations. You were now permanently stuck because any slight movement would make him whimper in protest.

If Caleb was a walking hurricane, Xavier was your little shadow, never straying more than two feet away from you at any given time. The moment you arrived, he peered at you from behind the couch like a shy kitten, big eyes watching you with quiet caution. You knelt and waved, offering a soft greeting, but he only stared. After a full minute of silence, he finally mumbled, “…Hi,” his voice barely above a whisper. Once he warmed up to you, though, there was no escape. He clung to you like a second skin, gripping the hem of your shirt whenever you moved. If you sat down, he immediately climbed onto your lap, tucking himself against your chest as if that was where he belonged. Loud noises startled him, and if someone knocked too hard on the door, he buried his face in your sleeve, his small voice trembling. “Too scary…” he whispered, his little fingers curling into your shirt for comfort. At some point, the warmth and safety of being near you lulled him to sleep, his tiny body curled up against you mid-cuddle. It was absolutely adorable—but also an unexpected problem. The moment you even thought about shifting, he let out the softest, most pitiful whimper, making your heart clench. You sighed in defeat, leaning back into the couch, resigned to being his pillow for the foreseeable future.

Sylus – The Mini Rebel

Sylus was trouble with a capital T. If he was quiet, it meant he was up to something.

Had a mischievous streak a mile long. The second you turned your back, he was either climbing on something, hiding in a cabinet, or sneaking a snack he wasn’t supposed to have.

If you caught him doing something bad and asked, “Did you do this?” he’d just blink up at you with wide, innocent eyes and go, “…Nope.” (Even though his hands were covered in marker ink.)

He LIVED for hide-and-seek, but only when he was the one hiding. One time, you couldn’t find him for a solid twenty minutes—turns out, he had curled up inside a laundry basket and fallen asleep.

If you tried to scold him, he’d give you a cheeky grin and say, “But you love me, right?” How were you supposed to argue with that?!

The only way to bribe him into behaving was snacks. The kid had a bottomless stomach, and as soon as you offered food, he’d (temporarily) behave like a tiny angel.

Sylus was trouble—the kind with a mischievous grin and the speed of a ninja. If he was quiet, it was never a good sign. The first time you turned your back, you caught him halfway up the counter, smirking like he had just pulled off the greatest heist. “Sylus,” you warned, narrowing your eyes. He flashed you an innocent smile. “I’m not doing anything.” Then, before you could stop him, he leapt off like a tiny daredevil, landing with a victorious laugh. To him, everything was a game. If you told him not to touch something, it instantly became his life’s mission to do exactly that. When you caught him stuffing cookies into his mouth, he gave you the most innocent wide-eyed look, even as crumbs rained from his lips. “What cookies?” he mumbled, feigning confusion. Bath time was another battle entirely. He fought tooth and nail to avoid getting in, but the second he was in the water? He refused to get out. “Five more minutes,” he insisted, splashing playfully. Five minutes turned into twenty, and by the time you finally dragged him out, he was already planning his next great escape. The worst, though, was when he disappeared for a full twenty minutes, making you panic. You searched every room, every corner, dreading what kind of trouble he had gotten into—only to find him curled up in the closet, giggling to himself. “I wanted to see how long it’d take for you to find me,” he admitted proudly, as if this was some grand experiment. If he wasn’t so ridiculously cute, you might have throttled him.

Rafayel – The Mini Prince

Even as a toddler, Rafayel acted like he was born royalty. If something wasn’t to his liking, he’d sigh dramatically like he was carrying the weight of the world.

Picky about everything. He refused to eat anything green. If his juice wasn’t in the right cup, he’d just stare at it and say, “This is… unacceptable.”

If you gave him a snack that wasn’t his favorite, he’d politely push it back to you and say, “You can have it.” (Sir, just eat the crackers.)

Didn’t like getting dirty. If he got even a little bit of mud on his hands, he’d hold them out like he was personally offended. “Fix this.”

The drama. If he tripped and scraped his knee? “I fear this is the end for me.” If you brushed his hair wrong? “You’re ruining me.” (Raf, it’s just hair.)

Despite all his complaints, if you gave him a hug or ruffled his hair, he’d get all pouty and pretend he didn’t like it—but his ears would turn red, giving him away.

And then, there was Rafayel. Even as a toddler, he carried himself like a prince—dramatic sighs, picky eating, and a general air of someone who believed he was destined for greater things. While the others ran around causing chaos, he sat elegantly on the couch, watching it all unfold with a quiet, unimpressed expression, as if he were above such childish antics. When you handed him a cup of juice, he barely spared it a glance before sniffing, “This is… unacceptable.” You blinked at him. Sir, it’s literally apple juice. His standards extended to food as well; anything remotely “green” was immediately pushed aside with a solemn shake of his head. “I don’t like green things,” he declared, as though it were a deep-rooted personal tragedy. Getting him to play was its own battle. He didn’t do “messy” things, and the second his hands got even slightly dirty, he held them out to you with a look of pure distress. “Fix this,” he demanded, eyes pleading yet expectant, as if you were his personal attendant. But despite all his prim and proper habits, he wasn’t entirely immune to affection. When you ruffled his soft hair, he let out a quiet huff, scowling at you—but his ears turned the slightest shade of red, betraying the fact that, maybe, just maybe, he didn’t mind it as much as he pretended to.

You deserved an award for surviving a day with these five chaotic toddlers. Between Zayne’s nap-time stubbornness, Caleb’s endless curiosity, Xavier’s clinginess, Sylus’s mischief, and Rafayel’s royal demands, you were EXHAUSTED.

…But when they all eventually fell asleep, curled up in little blankets, you had to admit—maybe they weren’t that bad. (Even if you weren’t signing up for babysitting duty again anytime soon.)

[whimsy-beetle]

fanart for @arrimorr 's character, The Knight (he is so very shape, i love this guy) I may have been a little self indulgent with the armor rendering uhhh (in my defense, it was very fun)

I find the lore fascinating, i consume every bit of tgnif content, absolute peak. More sketches of the sillies:

[sloanout]

It's interesting to see the occasional post where someone lays out all of Solas' crimes as if people are unaware of them or have forgotten. The condescending tone in a lot of them is what gets me, like it's not enough to loudly profess how much you hate the character, but it's also necessary to treat people that do enjoy them like children who can hardly read.

Like baby... Yeah, he did those things. We know. Your honor, he absolutely did that shit - but that's not the interesting part of the character. It's the circumstances and the ethical dilemmas therein that many find so compelling. War makes monsters of everyone, and no, that doesn't excuse every action taken, but it does lend it color and consideration. Solas is beloved in part because he's a fascinating study on the objective nature of good. It's wild to me that the most comparable character that comes to mind, Emet-Selch from FFXIV, is almost universally loved in stark contrast to the controversy around Solas (And sometimes there's good controversy. I enjoy having a nourishing discussion when everyone is respectful to each other and the source material).

I think so much of it has to do with how they carry themselves - Emet is absolutely steadfast and confident. He doesn't slip for a moment, the only soft center we see to him is legitimate love and longing for the past, not doubt or hesitation. Solas, on the other hand, is straight up repentant. He's not going to stop, but he's also absolute shit at hiding his pain and torment. Unlike Emet, he agrees that what he's doing is harmful. He acknowledges it over and over, but he's still a slave to the "greater good", as he sees it. There's a real vulnerability there, and I think it has this fracturing effect where it makes those who love him care for him more, and those who hate him go for the throat. For as much as he tries to be, he's not a perfectly cool and composed villain. The writers and devs make damn sure to break that facade of his, and I imagine that makes him hard to latch on to and rally for if you're a person that likes an absolute bastard.

Weakness is baked into him, and a lot of people find that utterly incongruous and revolting in a big bad with such a devastating history. But those that give him the time of day and try to understand get a lot of depth and intrigue to pour over. It's a double edged sword. His failings are his greatest appeal.

[reflectionsofacreator]

[takes a long drink from my Arizona iced tea] so like one of the central themes for FFXV is like, growing up, sure. You know that, I know that, whatever. Coming of age, coming into your own, taking the mantle of king, whatever you wanna call it. Cool, awesome, we love a good coming of age story!

But I find the sub theme of that one to be probably the most fascinating? By and large, all the chocobros have to deal with the fallout of being lied to by the adult figures in their lives, and it's the most prevalent with Noctis and Gladio. Don't get me wrong, there's a lot of it in Ignis and Prompto too, but the particularly insidious way that Noctis and especially Gladio were lied to sometimes gets me.

See I don't even really think it was actually all that intentional. Not really a conscious act by Regis and Clarus, or the society around them? More like... I dunno, the lies that you get told by your parents as a little kid and you grow up to realize that the world is a lot different than you thought.

That being said, Noctis was absolutely lied to by his father; both about the nature of the King of Light and the idea that he'd succeed Regis as reigning monarch. Regis did it out of love, knowing that Noctis would die young, and reasoned that Noctis should get to have a relatively normal life, but it was still a lie. Gladio, likewise, was lied to by his father and Regis, told that he would be the next monarch's Shield, that he would fulfill a role that's got a pretty set expectation in their society.

See, Gladio expects Noctis to act a certain way, to act as King, and he gets increasingly frustrated when Noctis doesn't, or can't live up to that. He's not precisely wrong to expect it either, given their roles and their statues, and knowing that they're taking the throne during a full blown war. The problem is that Noctis was never taught how to be the thing that Gladio was told Noctis was going to be? And that's what causes friction with them all the time. It's fascinating, watching it play out and realizing the underlying issues with their relationships actually have very little to do with them as people and instead because of what they were told to expect from each other.

Gladio is also his own kettle of fish that I don't think the narrative is quite self aware enough to articulate properly, or even get into. Gladio falls into the trap of toxic masculinity very often -- struggling to articulate his feelings, expressing most of his feelings as anger, picking fights rather than talking about what's going on, using his strength as both a character aspect and bonus, etc. The list goes on. There's also the fact that he's sort of portrayed as a bit of a womanizer and the masculine ideal; tall, rugged, strong, etc which plays into all of that. XV plays him very straight (and straight) with these concepts, and just sort of ... expects it to be fine? Which is at odds with how the other three bros interact and are more emotionally available towards each other, leaving Gladio as one of the weaker bros in canon.

It kind of sucks too, because like, there's so much to unpack with him? His DLC is about wanting to have the strength to protect Noctis on the surface, but really when you look at it... you could also argue that the DLC is about Gladio's fears that he'll end up as dead as his dad did (ha, try that for alliteration) and the crushing weight of failure. Gladio has every right to fear his mortality, fear the fact that he is, nominally, the first in line on the battlefield and the the last defense for Noctis. If Noctis is to die, they will go through him first, and that's! Scary! But the game doesn't really get into that, hardly at all, and it makes picking up the pieces for Gladio kind of frustrating. Out of all the bros, he's the one I have to dig the most to find any kind of depth despite being prime real estate for it.

Anyways Gladio and Noctis' dynamic is fascinating if you actually start to unpack it, especially because it's built on the lies that their fathers fed them as children (that they themselves also bought into). I'd go so far to argue that between the two pairs, Noct/Gladio is in much more of a dire need to sit down and actually hash out what they are to each other, outside of their king/shield dynamic. Noct/Iggy certainly has shades of that, but Ignis has decided that they are friends and that he will defy fate if he must, let the world burn if he must, to save Noct's life. That has some depth beyond king/retainer that they're presented as. Noct/Gladio are sort of just... falling into the king/shield dynamic because they're expected to, and it sort of hampers their relationship and their communication.

I'm gonna scramble them both like eggs, probably into an omelette. They make me Think you know

[maccreadyswife]

Okay. Okay

I think Deacon is by far the most tragic Fo4 companion because my GOD he spends so much time, as MacCready says, “being anyone but himself.” Literally you never learn his real name. He’s constantly watching his friends and allies die all for a cause SO much bigger than themselves.

Deacon never gets that chance at happiness and true companionship that the others get. He stays with the Railroad. He keeps his secrets and theirs to the end. You never find out… much at all about him. He always joking and saying random things and it’s such a perfectly crafted distraction from… finding out anything real.

The constant changing disguises, the lying, the. Just everything. His saying he prefers to be alone because getting too close could get him and his allies hurt all over again. He also says he likes traveling with you, but his base instinct is to just “pop a stealth boy and bug out.”

Also. The making up for his past mistakes and actions against synths. The actual RISKING HIS LIFE and throwing away his ENTIRE own identity, his being, for the sake of this cause. I cannot stress enough that this man has no identity left of his own anymore, and what there is is buried underneath so many layers that you, and probably he— will never find it again.

Also I’m adding to this. If you betray the RR for the Brotherhood or Institute, Deacon’s (cut) line about “how could you betray us… betray ME” and the actual rare hint of REAL emotion in his voice before he immediately turns on you. Someone he’d put trust into, someone he actually thought was going to do good for the Synths and for the Railroad. He doesn’t hesitate. That probably legitimately hurt him so much to do.

Deacon is not a character I can wrap my head around easily. He’s not someone I can conceptualize or fit into any box or any one sort of character trope. For that reason, I find him absolutely fascinating, and also completely heartbreaking.

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

baddddddd. he's giving pomme first pick of their dungeon loot rn. he's so NICE. not just to the eggs but in general (i am always thinking of those elegant letters). but the eggs are the only ones who he will quickly and easily show vulnerability to. with everyone else it's like there's a layer there, a wall of silliness he keeps up on purpose, but it just. isn't there with the eggs.

there's something about the way that he cares that I can't put into words. like he cares so much. so fucking intensely. look at dapper. look how kitted out that egg is. look at how much time bbh has spent with the eggs, and look at how much time and effort he puts into figuring out how to keep them safe. he goes HAM when it comes to caring for the eggs, but it comes so naturally to him. it feels like caring for people with his whole entire soul is his default, but he doesn't want it to be. or, maybe want play a part in it- maybe it's too dangerous to care so much so quickly. maybe that puts other people he loves at risk. maybe it scares people. but that wall between him and other people is one that he built, and it's bbh, so he built it strong, so even when he's surrounded by people who have proven over and over that they care for him (that they care for the eggs, that they will not hurt them), he can't fully believe it.

im just. bad knows foolish so well. he knows that man wouldnt on purpose kill any eggs. but pomme killed foolish and bbh, dying of laughter, having the time of his life, told her to "put your armour on. just in case."

[petrowriting]

the revelation that claudia’s rebirth was such a twisted and horrible moment, with louis dragging her like she was a thing, a stranger who neither of them knew but he kept saying over and over “our daughter, our beautiful little daughter” to lestat, really solidified the way she was never the main character of her own story. she was always an accessory to some or the other of louis’ whims: his guilt, his loneliness, his conflict of being a killer, his rocky relationship with lestat. there was love there, love from both her fathers, but it was never enough. lestat saw her too much as a wretched mirror held up to his own self, and louis was always too steeped in his own feelings to care enough about hers. claudia’s story truly was the greatest tragedy in this tale, treated horribly by every man around her, even her fathers, relentlessly exploited and brutally ignored, always second and never first. the only one who loved her the way she deserved to be loved was madeleine, and the moment she truly had her, her happiness was torn from her. and just before she died, she got to see someone actually choose her in her entirety, not for what she can be but for who she is, and it still wasn’t enough. she still burned alive in the sunlight. the love was there, but it wasn’t enough to save her.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Kiss Kiss Fallen Tree!

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[jameszmaguire]

You astonish me.

[arrimorr]

Im so unwell about Anya's pregnancy not being mentioned EVEN ONCE during post crash segments where we play as Jimmy. He talks so much about taking responsibility by the end of the game and yet the only person he takes it for in his own twisted way is Curly. Anya's lifeless body doesn't get even a single comment from him

[fuckyeahchinesefashion]

Character design, the archer lutong鹿童(the deer boy) from NeZha2: Mo Tong Nao Hai (the demon child's havoc in the sea)

[destructo-range]

'helen is so underdevelopped as a character!' 'helen's boring!' stfu u just don't like her bc she's a woc and because she doesn't behave exactly like michael. yall put so much effort into developping michael's character inside your minds and completely look over her because she's 'poorly written.' stop.

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

Still very wild to me when people try to gotcha Jason with the whole "if you can kill other people for being evil why can't they kill you" when jason is like. One of the most passively suicidal characters I've ever seen. What if man

[its-haughty]

Can I request you draw soushi- nah I’m kidding give us more keishin PLEASE

ok i’ll combine both your ideas into one horrible mess if thats ok

[rexonalapis]

it is very telling that average genshin players cannot comprehend seeing an actual mature, qualified leader that is actually good at taking her job seriously after meeting archons who either is still childish, clowning whimsically, or straight up incompetent.

[silmarillisms]

I mean, the problem is that Adar and his children don't just want to live and let live, do they? Or, at least, they're more than willing to hurt countless innocent people to obtain and hold land that categorically does not belong to them.

Adar and his children brutally genocide the people of the Southlands and steal their land, enslaving those who manage to survive and forcing them to eke out a living in truly grim conditions. It's an exceptionally bad introduction for them to the population of Middle-Earth as a whole in a post-Morgoth world.

Would the Elves have treated with them if they hadn't done that? I don't know - perhaps if Adar had approached Gil-Galad on less dire terms with a more reasonable compromise in mind, but we'll never know. The Uruk chose violence first. Oh one could certainly argue that the Elves always would have been prejudiced against them regardless and perhaps that is true, but consider:

Are they ever given a reason not to be? Uruk have never displayed anything other than ravening bloodthirst towards Elves and Men. It could be argued that this is a vicious cycle perpetuated by the creation of the Uruk by Morgoth and his use of them as war fodder and slaves thereafter, but if Adar truly wanted peaceful co-existence with the other races of Middle-Earth after the War of Wrath then I'm sorry but it was on him to reach out peacefully after the war ended.

He chose otherwise.

There is no reason that the Elves would or should ever trust Adar and his Uruk to live and let live in the Southlands, given what they did to the people who lived there, allowing an obvious threat to grow unmitigated. I mean, look at what they're already doing to Ost-in-Edhil in Eregion.

The continued perception of the Uruk as base and foul is as much Adar's fault as it is Morgoth's.