#jacques headcanon

[thedarkestdragonknight]

The snowfall was heavy this time of day, winds blowing roughly over the large creatures scales as he stood there just beyond the ruins of the Steel Vigil. In in distance, Foundation... Ishgard... the city that fell to the power that was unleashed the day his companion fell.

Suddenly, there was a crunch in the snow behind him and that gaze was turned to see whoever it was that had dared come up without his notice. A low rattling growl escaping the beast... someone had royally fucked up.

Little bonus with the 2nd image of me using one of my screenshots of foundation in the distance for this piece. Whoever came up behind him had better hope they are a friend... or they are in for a very bad time.

[daily-asagao-headcanons]

Jon owns a roomba, but never uses it because it freaks out Jacques (and PBG, though he constantly denies it)

[thedarkestdragonknight]

I will likely have more to say about this later but for now enjoy the final design for how Jacques looks when he basically goes Bahamut Zero. Of all the challenging things when it comes to things like this his wings were the toughest to figure out.

Simply because Bahamut Zero has six wings and I didn’t want to go the route of Hraesvelgr or Nidhogg (because their wings DO bother the shit out of me personally) and keep it more tied to Bahamut and Bahamut Zero personally, plus I do like some sense of realism to my critters even if he is a fantasy monster. I did make him quadrupedal opposed to how Bahamut Zero (Even Bahamut in FFXIV is bipedal) is bipedal as with the amount of weight that Jacques likely has to carry in this form him standing on his hind legs makes no sense at all >> he’d probably destroy his spine if he even attempted that... also lonnnnnnng tail for added balance because otherwise he’d likely tip forward and fall on his face. And get that nose spike stuck in the ground.

I did a lot of tweaking things here and there but I wanted my main focus to be his wings since they are the biggest thing for him in general in this form. When all of his wings are folded down the largest set pretty much curls up and ‘wraps’ over the other two, with the middle wing doing the same for the smallest. Like... well think of it like a wing burrito. A very strange burrito but it’s still a burrito honestly, it’s likely the best way TO describe how they work in general. And while in flight each wing flaps separately and not all at once, almost in a ‘wave’ like motion in a manner similar to the Gold/Copper/Brass dragons of D&D, though the largest of the wings would be going up first instead of last. I dunno! I’m weird and I think too much into these things!

There have been some tweaks and updates to his face here as well, mostly in the neck area because I do love me a nice ‘dew lap’ when it comes to my dergins. I’ve also added in the segmented ‘horn thing’ that Bahamut Zero is usually shown with... There’s not TOO much different from the other pieces I’ve done of him besides this one not having the mass amount of scale detail that I usually do. Basically, this is what the grumpy dragon can turn into when he gets pushed beyond his limits.

[jacquesinabox]

Headcanon | Sutter, Stut-...St-...Stop.

Jacques has always had a stutter. Ever since he could talk, he's been shunned for doing it, his father always taking his words for garbage and tossing them out. He's always had a stutter, but around the age of seventeen, he was tired of...being unable.

Unable to talk because of his stutter. Unable to move because the dark in his head's weighed him down. Unable to breathe because his nerves are always on fire. Unable to...able. He wanted to talk like a regular person, to get through a word without stumbling and scraping his letters and bleeding incompetence onto the person listening. He didn't want to have everyone he talks to walk off and wash that incompetence off of him, tossing his ruined, bruised words out like his father always did. He didn't want Agnes to.

He was coming to the island, he was finally meeting her, it was his chance to heal up and stop stumbling, not bleed onto her as well. But he can't just get rid of a life-long stutter. So a month before arriving onto the island, he started practicing stopping instead of stuttering. Every time he felt a stumble in his words, he'd pause instead of speak and chop them apart. His speech started sounding broken and too unpracticed, but there was no stutter. He genuinely believed with time, he'll be able to rid of it entirely.

But coming to the island pressed him for words, and coming to meet her pressed him for speed because she waltzed through life on tiptoes, gliding on her sunset oranges and demanding he keep up. And before he knew it, he couldn't think ahead enough to stop instead of stutter. It was back, and he was bleeding incompetence all over Ags, all over Addie, all over Jean again, all over everyone he's come to know, and he's sure they want nothing more than to wash him away.

[jacquesinabox]

Headcanon | 'You're Jean's brother, aren't you?'

Living in your brother's shadow since birth has its comforts. It has its difficulties - like a lifetime of being an almost-nothing, parents that won't parent you, a brother who's more your parents' son than he is your brother, and the urge to tie up that rope and pull it tight. It has its difficulties, but shadows hide you away from the spotlight that would've otherwise burned you out from within. So you live with it, content with the dark that'll hide your neck.

But the island showed just that slightest chance of change. The world is turning upside down and everything's changing, maybe Jacques can too. The island's his chance if he's ever to take one. His head tells him it'll be all the same, exactly the same, always. But his chest's beating with a heart pumping new blood and a wish for a new self, or a try at one.

Except his head's right, head's always right. Head a jumble of panic and fear and panic and fear and panic and.....always right. Most everyone who's met him, the staff; the royals; everyone, as soon as he speaks and the hint of French is curling around his words like rope (it clogs his throat like rope too, he remembers it, he remembers, he...wants it again), he's identified as...Jean's brother. Always Jean's brother. Always Jean's shadow. Always something of Jean's, never something of his own. Can never make his own, his own self.

He loves Jean, he loves the shadows. Hope is nice for company in the dark, just not...not to live out. Hope's not for him to live out. It's for people like Jean.