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Name: morgan

Nickname: do i even have any nicknames, idk Mun FC: --- Height: 5’5" Relationship status: taken ehe Birthday: may 28

Favourite colour: different shades of green! also red Favourite singer/band: margot & the nuclear so and so's and the mountain goats, ha... Last song listened: "lamplight" - bombay bicycle club Last movie watched: dude, i don't even remember Favourite book: cat's cradle Last book read: american gods Currently reading: the secret history

# of siblings: 4 younger sisters # of pets: none :c Best school subject: in high school it was probably english, now i guess art history, since that's my major

Mac or PC? PC Cell phone type: a very crappy one i'm not even sure Current shirt colour:  red Gamer?: yeah i guess so i mean i PLAY video games but what even constitutes a GAMER Day or night?: night Summer or winter?: summer definitely Most-visited website? twitter right now Celebrity crushes:  i don't really have any i don't think!!

Meet the Mun

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♆ ☂

Send ♆ for a BODY headcanon.

he reeeeally hates the sight of his scars - admittedly it’s partly because of vanity, but really he doesn’t like being reminded of his defeats. the scars are a permanent, visible reminder of the fact that he’s basically a failure - he’d never say that out loud, but the fact that his one real goal (being the vongola decimo) was completely impossible for him isn’t something he’s ever going to stop being furious about. 

Send ☂ for a FOOD headcanon.

before xanxus was adopted as a child, he could never be sure if he was going to eat at all each day - much less get a full meal - so once he was able to eat all he wanted, he took advantage of it. he developed his taste for expensive food - and lots of it - at a really young age. it’s not like he’s ever consciously thinking about being half-starved as a kid, but that definitely has something to do with that particular obsession of his. well, that and he was fuckin spoiled rotten. 

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ღ

Send ღ for a LOVE/SEXUALITY headcanon.

hoo boy. xanxus is, ah, basically incapable of feeling actual affection for anyone, honestly. he’s almost superhumanly self-absorbed, so how he feels about any given person basically comes down to what use they can be to him or, you know, how many ways they’ve pissed him off. he can feel possessive of people - that’s about the extent of it. and, well, sex is another thing entirely, but that can wait ‘til some other time, ha. 

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Headcanons

Send ✚ for a HEALTH headcanon.

Send ♕ for a CHILDHOOD headcanon.

Send ✿ for a HAPPINESS headcanon.

Send ␛ for an ANGER headcanon.

Send ♆ for a BODY headcanon.

Send ϡ for a MENTAL STATE headcanon.

Send ღ for a LOVE/SEXUALITY headcanon.

Send † for a RELIGION headcanon.

Send ✄ for a PET PEEVE headcanon.

Send ☂ for a FOOD headcanon.

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"Don't chase the rabbit"

When he faces the Ninth now, a part of Xanxus still calls him father; the rest of him came prepared to destroy the old man, and there’s not nearly enough sentiment in his heart to stop him. It was all lies, after all; the old man made his bed when he chose to deceive him for years.

It’s been so long since the first time the Ninth saw Xanxus’ flame, once so weak, the bitterness of a hungry, worthless child with hopes of being something more. And oh, he’s something more now, isn’t he? His flame has found its source now, a well of rage in his chest at the realization that he is nothing, that the world will never allow him to be anything more than the gutter scum he once was. But there is no one that can stop him now.

He faces the Ninth with his wrath surging bright around him, the son come to destroy the father. There’s no pity in his heart when he imagines the old man dead - ah, Timoteo, you brought this on yourself, you sowed the seeds of your own destruction when you kept this bitter, selfish child alive, you should’ve left him on the streets to die.

Xanxus fails, in the end, but worse still: the Ninth could never kill him, and Xanxus hates him all the more for it. Letting him live will always be the old man’s greatest mistake. 

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"Tch."

"I don't give a damn what you say. Just don't waste my time with any more useless advice." 

「For fucking starters, you don’t have to be so goddamn rude about it. What do you want me to say, I’m sorry for trying to help your sorry ass? Jesus Christ. Fuck you, man. 」

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Send me "Don't chase the rabbit" and your muse will be shown a random memory from my muse's past.

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"If I were capable of building one, don't you think I would've fucking done it already?" 

「… Well, you could build one if you’re handy at all, you know.」

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"That sounds like a fucking terrible idea." 

(Well, sounds like more trouble than it's worth, anyway.) 

"No. You’re obviously human."

"I’m just saying you could become a cyborg to restore your arm functions.”

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"Don't call me that, brat." He's already picked up the nearest small object to throw at Fran's head, but reconsiders when he considers the fact that, well, Fran probably can do that. 

"You could've mentioned that earlier." 

"I can illusion one for you, stubby Boss." Stumpy Boss? One-armed Boss? He would have to think further on that.

He neglects to mention (probably purposefully) that the illusion will only last ten minutes under the city’s strange restrictions.

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What.

"Do I look like a goddamn cyborg to you?" 

"Do you not have access to cyborg prosthetics?"

Why can’t everyone just become cyborgs, really.

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"I'm guessing none of you know of any way to replace missing limbs, huh?"

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gonyangi replied to your post

( CUPS UR FACE IN MY HANDS shhhh i had no clue either when i first began but it's more intimidating than it seems u will do great KISSES UR NOSE )

(KISSES YR FOREHEAD thank you *u* i will figure this out i have the power)

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grows into nothing / open

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" 

His voice carries, a familiar rage swelling at the realization that the door he's just exited won't budge, at the dawning recognition of the reality of his situation. It's no sentimentality that pisses Xanxus off at being unceremoniously removed from his home -- there's certainly no one he'd miss -- but the audacity these scumbags must possess to use him as some kind of human guinea pig --

Old scars spread over his skin like ink bleeding through paper, and he seethes. 

"Who the fuck --" His one remaining hand (he's not happy about that, either, but that's an issue that will have to wait) raises, his fingers crooked like claws. "Do you think I am?" 

His flame surges, energy flowing from his skin; he has no target for it, no direction for his outburst save the assumption that someone, somewhere, is watching this. It only takes an instant, though, for him to recognize his utter lack of power; he knows his own strength, if nothing else, and this -- this is nothing. Shouting wordlessly, he drives his fist into the wall beside him, the sting in his knuckles relieving nothing. He spares no thought for the passersby that might be watching -- he's never had much of a problem with causing a scene, anyway. 

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radiantwarfare replied to your post

ooc leans in. smiles. stares at you. kicks xanxus right in the liger. kisses u on the way out