Stimboard Of Me N Bubba!!

baby bunnies:3

Being a Chocola regressor means:

-favorite foods are chocolate and raw tuna sushi

-will do anything for headpats

-can't resist a box

-always around my Sissy

-always happy and cheerful but a little bit too curious

-overprotective but need to be taken care of

yaaaa uh this one is for the absolutely silent regressors/dreamers!!! [its meeeee :3] like i looooove being all quiet and little and small i looooove not saying words no more <3 lemme nod yes or no that’s it!!!!! i’m too shy to grabby hands for anything, the most ur gonna get out of me is a longing glance or two to a plushie that’s out of reach or a yummy num i’m too scared to get for myself. like. dude. dude i loveee shutting everything up so much i’m gonna be as quiet and small as possibleeeee i’m minisculeeeee u can barely even see me!!!!!! j sitting here looking up at chu w my big eyes!!!!! blink blink blinkity blink blink!!!!

Hi there! Do you take requests? If you do

Could I get a fic for a caregiver Neuvilette and sensitive/timid Agere/Petre reader (Sometimes I pet regress into an otter :) specifically the leisurely otter you see in genshin, I age regress as well). when I regress I’m a lot more sensitive to rejection and other things people say :) For another detail, my age regression range is *usually* 1-5

I hope that’s not too much! ~ Kindly, the @jellyfish-nursery

I absolutely adore this request! This was super fun to make! I hope you enjoy ^-^ ✩ also I apologise if it’s on the slightly shorter side!

⋆୨୧˚ My, aren’t you charming? ˚୨୧⋆

Caregiver Neuvilette x Timid Otter regressor reader!

Neuvilette had always found you.. quite adorable, the way you’d cling to a felt shell whenever you could, protecting it with your life. The way you’d make yourself a den made out of anything you could find, blankets, sticks.. Neuvilette’s belongings even. Neuvilette had always found it amusing, a gentle smile always gracing his features whenever you would slip into that headspace.

Today had felt rather special, you had both had breakfast together, walked around the hustle and bustle of Fontaine for a while, stocking up on baby powder and some yummy snacks. Once he had noticed that you had begun to slip into your pet headspace, he chuckled, ruffling your hair and gently moving you out the way of the busy crowd.

“Come along, petite loutre. I thought we could go swimming today if that’s something you would like? I have brought along your swimming gear should you wish to do so.” He spoke gently, his cane tapping against the floor as he walked with you, his other hand gently holding onto your own- he wouldn’t want to accidentally lose you after all.

His smile grew warmer when he saw you nod, taking a turn to the right as he led you down to where the ocean lapped softly at the gray Fontanian stone. He smiled, swiftly getting into his own swimming attire before helping you get into yours, chuckling when you somehow ended up with your head in one of the arm-holes.

“Such a silly thing, allow me to help you.” He said endearingly, taking a step back once you had both finished. He snapped his fingers, his cane vanishing with a flurry of blue sparkles before he took your hand once again, leading you towards the shallows, wading into the crystalline blue waters. He chuckled softly as you adjusted to the coolness of the water, before hesitantly swimming around, not wanting to stray too far from Neuvilette.

He made sure to keep an eye on you, his arms open to hold you steady should you need it.

“You’re doing well, petite loutre- I’m right here if you need anything.” He encouraged, his voice as gentle as the waters of Fontaine, still.. tranquil. He hummed for a second before diving down, emerging a minute or so later holding a scalloped shell, it was rather beautiful- a gentle lavender, with just a tinge of pink, it was the colour of a beautiful sunset.

The water was lovely, not too cold, but not too warm- it was perfect for a sunny day like this! The hours passed quickly, the sun turning from a pale blue into a stunning mix of orange, purple and pink- quite like the shell Neuvilette had given you. With a gentle touch, Neuvilette lifted the little otter out of the water, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“As much as I would love to swim with you for hours and hours, we need to get some dinner in that tummy of yours.” The Iudex chuckled, watching as you clung to him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. You let out a squeak of protest but it only resulted in a pat on the head before Neuvilette began drying you off.

“Oh don’t look at me like that dear.. we can always come back tomorrow.” He said, putting the towel back into the carrier bag he had brought with him to carry the goods from earlier on before carrying you back up the riverbank.

“Tell you what, I’ll get you dinner of your choice tonight. Anything you’d like, I’ll get it for you.” He offered, chuckling as you perked up at the offer before nodding enthusiastically.

This otter was certainly adorable.. they made Neuvilette’s heart warm, they made him feel.. happy. And he’d do whatever it took to protect that fuzzy feeling.

based on a hc from my twitter mutual i couldn't get out of my head

please enjoy my self indulgent older brother diluc and his weird sisterdaughter diona <3

words: 4.2k

Diluc hears her before he sees her.

It’s late. Late enough that even the most incorrigible drunkards Mondstadt has to offer have long deserted her dark streets.

He had closed up shop at the tavern not five minutes earlier, sighing as he shouldered his coat and prepared to begin his nightly rounds of the city. Before he could shed his usual attire, shifting personas as easily as day shifts to night, he had been struck with the whim of going to visit the cats that gathered outside of the neighboring Cat’s Tail, attracted by the bowls of fish tidbits the owner left out. Surely no one would begrudge him this small luxury of companionship before he resigned himself to the lonely night once more?

Besides, there’s no one awake to judge him as he changes course, feet turning from the familiar path home to the alley that leads to the other tavern.

He’s only half the vigilant traveler he usually is as he winds quietly past the empty flower stalls, his tall frame slumped slightly in thought. He should really remember to bring food for these strays more often. Not that they weren’t well fed already- Diluc is sure he’s far from the only one regularly paying his attentions to them- but it can’t hurt. The smaller ones tend to be scared of his size when he stoops down to offer a hand to them, so maybe he ought to put in more effort to being approachable...

Diluc is so preoccupied with the issue of the fickle affections of Mondstadt’s strays that he almost doesn’t hear her the first time, but the second sound makes him pause, his already quiet footfalls stilling to nothing. A soft, hiccuping sob echoes down the cobblestone path.

Oh. That’s a child’s sob, Diluc realizes. No enemy, regardless of skill, could mimic that tone. 

A few painful memories threaten to surface, skimming the back of his consciousness. He steadily ignores them.

There it is again. Diluc’s soft, quiet breathing contrasts his racing thoughts as he tries to rationally plan his next move. Obviously, the parental voice in his head (that sounds suspiciously like his father) says, you should carefully approach the child and see if they’re hurt, or lost, or scared, or if you can do anything to help.

The other half of his brain reminds him that he doesn’t have the best track record when dealing with children, and... Well. If he’s being honest, he’ll probably just scare them even more.

Regardless of his internal conflict, though, the one part of himself that Diluc can never repress is holding its own. His conscience, bastard that it is, won’t let him leave the scene of a crying child without doing something. 

He exhales through his nose. Okay. You can do this, moron. It’s just a kid. His feet move forward, purposefully a bit louder than usual- he doesn’t want to surprise them. Just don’t be scary. Be normal. Be an adult who wants to help. Be Fath-

His internal mantra stops in its tracks when he rounds the corner and takes in a small, huddled figure on the back porch of the tavern. A figure with equally small cat ears.

Oh. Oh, no. This isn’t going to work at all.

Before he can make a tactical retreat, though, she’s spotted him. He sees the hair rise on the tips of her ears and tail, but there’s no fight in her red-rimmed eyes as he meets them with his own.

He clears his throat quietly. “Are- Are you alright?”

Diona doesn’t respond, sniffling and shoving her face back into her elbow.

Of all the kids in Mondstadt, you run across the one that hates you most. Really batting a thousand tonight, huh, Diluc?

Ugh. That one sounded like Kaeya.

She’s not currently spitting venom or running away, though, and his conscience must take that as encouragement, because his boots are moving again before he notices. Small, short steps, like he’s approaching a wild animal. Which, he kind of is, he reasons to himself.

Her ears flick. She can hear him approach, he’s sure, but she just huddles closer to herself, hugging her knees tighter. She looks even smaller than usual. Diluc bites down anger at Margaret yet again for hiring such a young girl to work in a place like a tavern.

Had something happened with a patron? The vision strapped to his thigh heats up at the thought, already sending heat dancing to his fingertips. He feels the telltale creep of fury as it seeps into his bloodstream like ice. Not now, he chides. You’ll scare her. Later.

He’s within ten feet of her when her head darts up from her arms. She’s- oh, bless her, he thinks, she’s trying very hard to glare at him. In her current state, though, with tears streaking down her face and her lower lip wobbling, it’s not a very convincing act. Still, he stops, and after a moment he lowers his large body to the ground facing her.

This is what he does with the other stray cats, so theoretically it should work on this one too, right?

As if summoned by his train of thought, a lazy grey tail pokes out of the nearby bush and follows a sleek grey body that emerges from the leaves. He smiles in spite of himself, feeling Diona’s eyes on him. He holds out a large, gloved hand, before having a sudden change of heart and removing his glove, tucking it into his breast pocket and offering his bare hand to the inquisitive nose sniffing it. The cat, known to him only as Ash, seems to approve of him. She brushes up against him, letting his scarred hand scratch between her ears.

“She doesn’t usually like that.”

Diona’s voice is quiet and unsteady, but the sobs seem to have subsided for the moment. He takes that as a good sign.

“Oh?” he rumbles, keeping his eyes on the cat now rubbing against his knee. “I’ve never known her to dislike it.”

From the corner of his vision, he can see her make a face. She doesn’t say anything else, though, and Diluc feels like he should be the one to break the weighty silence that falls.

He would, if he knew what to say. Should he pretend he never saw her crying? Ask her if she wants to talk? Leave?

Before he can make up his mind, though, the opportunity is taken from him by a return of the shaking in Diona’s shoulders. Her sobs are even quieter than before, as if she’s actively trying to hide them from him. The thought breaks his heart like he didn’t know was possible.

The muffled sound of a child sobbing...

Suddenly, Diluc is eight and the sky outside the winery windows is pouring down rain and thunder on the darkened Mondstadt countryside. He peers over the railing of the staircase, drawn out of his room by the flashes of lightning outside his bedroom window and the odd sounds coming from the first floor of his home.

A particularly loud rumble shakes the house, causing the few lights in the dining room to tremble in their candelabras, and a section of the tablecloth shakes with it. There’s something under there.

Glancing back at the hallway, Diluc sees the cracked door of the room next to his and understands.

Tears are streaming down Kaeya’s face when his brother lifts the fabric and joins him under the table. Neither of them say a word. They don’t need to. The smaller boy huddles into Diluc and they sit like that as the storm rages outside.

Then, the thunder cracks again and the Diluc from fifteen years later resurfaces from his reverie.

Against his better judgment, he gets to his feet slowly, Ash trailing in his wake as he moves towards the steps the girl is seated on. He stops short in front of her, kneeling until he’s at her eye level, and opens and closes his mouth a few times as he gathers resolve.

“Diona.”

She doesn’t look up. “What do-” her voice breaks- “What do you want?”

He frowns. What does he want? Was he not making it clear that he wants to help her?

“I...” He stops, softening his voice even more until it’s barely a whisper. “Why are you crying?”

At that, her hiccuping breaths stop for moment, questioningly, as if she’s not sure she heard correctly. Before she can answer him, though, whatever troubles she’s having get the best of her and she crouches in on herself further.

By this point, Diluc is internally beside himself. He should leave; she’s clearly feeling even worse than when he got here.

He shakes his head to clear it. No. Think. His teeth grit in practiced annoyance as a familiar thought springs to mind unprompted. Do what he would do.

That Kaeya is more talented than his brother in dealing with children is possibly the worst kept secret they have between them. (Well. Maybe the second worst kept, he thinks.) Even Alice’s little daughter, who seemed to befriend the whole world as a personal mission, keeps her distance since his father passed.

He doesn’t exactly blame her, or any other child in Mondstadt. Parents teach their children to stay away from gloomy adults for a reason. It keeps them safe. If his own image is sacrificed for such a cause, he’ll gladly forfeit it.

Kaeya, on the other hand, is a favorite with most kids in the area, and for good reason.

So. What would Kaeya do?

Kaeya would... hug them? Probably?

Before he can think better of it, he lays his ungloved hand on her shaking back, hoping to provide some comfort. The girl’s breath hitches again, and she slowly brings her teary eyes up to his. He can see simultaneous misery and distrust in them, but she doesn’t look away or glare this time.

Diluc blinks. Her nose is running. 

She goes to wipe her face on her sleeve once again and he unconsciously retrieves his glove from his pocket, offering it to her without a word.

Her ear twitches again. He absently wonders if it’s a nervous tick, but she takes the glove anyway, wiping her scarlet waterlines. She doesn’t make eye contact. He doesn’t remove his hand.

After a moment, a meow comes from somewhere by Diluc’s boot, accompanied by a bump. Ash makes herself known, vying for the man’s attention, and he removes his other glove to absently stroke her soft fur. 

While he’s occupied finding a place to put his now-abandoned gloves, he feels a sudden weight on his chest. 

Unblinkingly, his gaze flits back and forth between Diona’s head, which now rests against his lapel, and Ash’s wise golden eyes, which hold no answers for his questions. 

She must be exhausted. That’s all his swirling mind can come up with for why she’s choosing to expose her vulnerabilities to the one man in Mondstadt indirectly responsible for so much of her pain.

He doesn’t say any of that, though. Instead, he lets his instincts take over- instincts he hasn’t had to make use of in years. Diluc’s other hand comes to rest on the pink crown of her head and his chin drops on top of it, his tired eyes sliding shut.

“Why?”

A single word from her shocks him out of a haze of memories. Memories of better days between him and his younger brother. Memories his mind is currently forcing him to recall.

“Why, what?” His voice is barely audible. 

“Why does he drink?”

Oh.

Draff, that fucker.

Diluc is going to tear Springvale to the ground. With his bare hands.

He shuts his eyes tight and clenches his jaw imperceptibly, willing the anger welling within him to dissipate. Anger is the last thing this young girl needs from an adult right now.

“I... I don’t know, Diona.” He feels her shoulders curl into his chest more at his words. “Some people... don’t know how to deal with hardship.” 

He can feel her small hands gripping his coat lapel tightly as her voice wavers out from below his chin. “He s-said he would stop. For good this time.” She sniffles. “He’s said that before. I sh-should’ve known.”

“Oh, kid,” Diluc exhales, stroking the soft hair on the top of her head. “That’s not your fault.”

She holds her silence after that for a long time. Diluc loses track of how long they sit there on the back porch of the Cat’s Tail, Diona sniffling as she rests against his chest, her eyes making damp patches on the fabric. 

His lower body is half numb by this point, forced to stay stock-still in an uncomfortable position, fearing lest he scare off the wounded animal clinging to his chest. He doesn’t mind. 

Instead, his frame begins to vibrate lowly with a familiar melody, recalling a tune he would hear Adelinde singing around the manor as a child as she dusted his father’s paintings. He barely notices he’s humming until he’s halfway through, his mind far away from the dark cobblestone alley his body crouches in.

That tune used to make him feel safe. If he’s honest with himself, as vulnerable as Diona must be at the moment, he feels equally so. It wasn’t a common occurrence for him to comfort anyone, let alone to let them use him as a pillow. Maybe that’s why he starts the melody, craving the safety he felt in those memories. 

If Adelinde were here... or Father... but how many times in a day already did he wish the late head of his clan were alive? 

Some days, he doesn’t even count the moments in between the longing. Grief, for Diluc, is a constant blanketing feeling that injects itself into his every thought even all these years later.

Still... if he were here, he would know what to do better than his fool of a son, Diluc thinks.

While his mind is thus occupied, the body he left behind continues to run on autopilot, gliding his hand gently over the crown of her head as he winds to the end of the melody. 

Diona has long ceased her hiccuping sobs, and her sniffles are coming in longer and longer intervals by the time he finishes. She makes a noise against his chest- a kind of muffled huff- and breaks away from his hold, trying to ignore the obvious mess she’s made of his tie and shirt. 

For a moment, she refuses to meet his eyes, and Diluc is suddenly afraid he’s done something wrong. Has he crossed some kind of boundary? She hardly knows him, after all.

Before he can despair for too long, however, she squeezes her eyes shut a few times and then meets his earnest gaze with less animosity than he’s ever seen in her face. 

He summons his resolve. 

“Do you have someplace safe to stay tonight?” He asks before he can think better of it. “It’s rather late for someone young to be out on their own.”

She makes a face at that and he represses the urge to smile. “’M not young. I’m grown up, I’ll have you know.”

He actually does laugh then, a smile blooming across his face that would have reminded any onlooker of another man who bore the Ragnvindr name in years past. “Of course. My apologies, Miss Kätzlein.”

He thinks he sees the corner of her mouth tilt up at that, but it could have been a trick of the light. 

“Please, let me try again.” He clears his throat, playing into his role as best as he can. “Miss Kätzlein, would you allow me to accompany you on your way home this evening? Mondstadt can be unsafe for anyone at night, you know.”

She’s shut her eyes now, looking away in disdain with her arms crossed. One green eye opens to glance at him, though, and in her expression he sees relief.

“Hm. Fine, I’ll allow it,” she preens, as if her dignity was still entirely in one piece. “If it’ll make you feel better.”

He grins, his face lighting up as he stands and offers her his arm. “It would, thank you.”

Diona refuses it, seeming to regain a semblance of her usual pride, and gets to her feet herself. Diluc attempts to right his crumpled collar and tie, giving up his gloves as a lost cause and tucking them into his pocket.

Few moments pass until they’re on their way, stopping only for Diona to refill the cat bowl by the tavern door. Ash waves her tail in farewell as they depart, padding gracefully up to her dinner in the moonlight.

The walk out onto the bridge and beyond is quiet, but it’s a comfortable silence. Diluc walks behind his charge, large boots covering the small pawprints in the sandy path leading from Mondstadt to Springvale. He makes a conscious effort to push his awareness to its limits, knowing that he has a higher priority at stake. Not a bird launches from its perch, or breeze floats through the branches above, without his notice tonight.

As they begin to approach the village, however, the man notices a change in the figure walking in front of him. Diona’s once-confident steps have begun to shrink, bringing their pace down by nearly half. Her tail swishes about nervously. Her ears, usually flicking about, now lay flat against her head instead. 

In an attempt to lighten the mood, and maybe distract her if she’s scared, he asks her an offhand question about how work at the Cat’s Tail went that evening.

He didn’t mean to bring up alcohol, but he realizes too late that it was possibly the worst subject he could have chosen.

The effect is immediate. Diona stops, turning on her heel to face him with arms crossed over her chest and a familiar look of loathing.

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know, huh? Don’t think I’ve forgotten who you are, Mister Angel’s Share.” Her baleful gaze falls to her feet as she kicks aside a few rocks in frustration. “Mister Dawn Winery. Mister- Mister Stupid-” she punctuates the word with a particularly vicious kick- “Wine Industry. Mister...” 

She pauses, apparently having run out of disparaging epithets. The look on her face would be adorable if it wasn’t so full of disdain for him, Diluc muses to himself.

He sighs. Now is probably as good of a time as any to set the record straight.

“Diona.”

“What.” Her tone is biting.

“Do you think I like selling alcohol?” 

He crouches down to her eye level as he says it, watching for a reaction. He isn’t disappointed; her pink eyebrows rise as far as they can go and her eyes widen for a moment before returning to an even more intense glare.

“Duh.”

“You’d be wrong.”

Her mouth twists into a pout, but her eyes keep their vigilant stare. She’s really good at that, Diluc notes absently.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Too bad.” The more mature part of Diluc is sending distress signals to his brain right now, warning him that tracking down a rogue teenage cat-hybrid in the forest at night will go poorly when she decides to bolt. He ignores it in favor of the familiar rush of being able to banter with someone the way he used to.

She doesn’t look convinced, but she’s also not interrupting him, so he continues.

“Do you know why I sell wine?” 

Diona shakes her head, her tail flicking behind her. Whether that was out of curiosity or annoyance, Diluc doesn’t know.

“I sell wine because my father sold wine, and I loved my father.” His voice holds as steady as his gaze, rumbling deep in his chest. “I still love him, even in his absence.”

Diona has broken her hostile eye contact and is staring at her shoes.

“So, even though I don’t like alcohol myself-” Diona’s head shoots up at that, and he manages to curb a smile- “I run Angel’s Share and the winery because I’m taking care of my father’s legacy. What he built.” 

He swallows, voice thickening despite his best efforts. “I’m sorry that what he built has been the source of so much pain for you, Diona.”

A lull falls over the two figures on the forest path. For a moment, even the breeze ceases.

A few teardrops fall onto the dust.

Oh, shit. Shit. 

She’s crying again. You made a little girl cry, you absolute fucking idiot.

Okay, that one sounded like both him and Kaeya.

Regardless of whose voice it is that’s chastising him, though, Diluc’s knee-jerk reaction is the same. His broad hands come to rest on her shoulders and he tries to keep the panic out of his tone as he asks if she’s okay.

She doesn’t respond, but even though she’s crying, it’s not the same awful sobs that plagued her earlier, he realizes. When she looks up at him with vulnerable eyes for the second time tonight, the tears in them fall silently. 

He hopes it will be the last time she looks at him with red-rimmed eyes.

This time, he leans forward to catch her as she falls towards him, tentatively wrapping his arms around her like he’s afraid she’ll break.

No gut-wrenching sobs reach his ears now, though. After a moment when all he can hear is the wind, she speaks, and he feels his heart stop in his chest.

“I don’t know if I want to go back there tonight.”

Well.

He’s been getting better at keeping his emotions from showing on his face recently. Right now, though, should anyone happen to walk by, the mere sight of his knit brows and set jaw could make the most hardened sinner repent. 

Every man has his limits, after all.

Biting his cheek in place of the vengeance he couldn’t yet take, he pulls back and takes her hand, willing her to look him in the eyes.

“Diona.”

No response. Her other hand digs into the fabric of his shirt tighter.

“You don’t have to go home if you don’t want to.”

She sniffles.

“Will you let me offer my home to you tonight?”

Her shoulders shake again, and for a horrible moment he thinks she’s sobbing again, but then he hears her giggle and all is right with the world again.

He smiles, standing up as she dissolves into laughter. “What’s funny about that?”

“You want me to stay at the place-” Diona snorts, interrupting herself-” where all the wine in this dumb region is made?” She sounds incredulous, her eyes daring him to contradict her. She’s still laughing, though, so as far as Diluc’s concerned, her words don’t hold much bite.

Besides, he’s just relieved she’s finally stopped crying. Children are exhausting.

When her giggles have subsided, she turns her back to him, flawlessly jumping back into character. “I can’t say I’ll enjoy it, but I can endure it, I suppose.”

He takes that as an answer as good as any.

And so, with the moon creeping slowly across the inky sky, the two oddly matched traveling companions continue their journey across the Mondstadt countryside. When they reach the fork in the road, Diona doesn’t hesitate, marching past the Springvale sign without even a look of contempt.

Diluc feels a surge of pride. Then, he questions that emotion. Then, he elects to ignore those questions.

Further on down the path, she has to slow down to walk beside him when she’s no longer sure of the way. He notices the way her feet have started to drag and, immediately dismissing the notion of offering to carry her, instead asks her questions to keep her awake.

Luckily, Diona likes to talk, and she has no shortage of opinions.

Eventually, she asks him how he and Captain Kaeya are related if they feel so differently about drinking, and he laughs louder than he has in a while.

“Well, whatever. He’s still a rotten boozehound,” Diona huffs, “but at least he’s nicer than the other drunkards.”

Diluc’s mouth quirks up against his will. “Oh?”

“Yeah... that weirdo can put back drink after drink, but there was a couple of times when patrons were being weird to me, and... he set them straight.”

He’s lucky the moon isn’t bright enough to illuminate the grin on his face.

“Good. Otherwise, I’d kick his ass.”

After a while more, when the moon is almost threatening to disappear, they reach the path that winds around the winery grounds. By now, Diona is barely staying on her feet. Diluc resists the urge to steer her with his hand after she almost walks into a grapevine post. 

As the doors of the manor appear before them, the first light of dawn breaks over the distant hills.

Tonight, Diluc thinks, he’ll settle Diona in one of the many guest rooms in the winery and ensure she rests well.

Tomorrow, he’ll make a visit to Springvale.

It will be a peaceful visit. He will rationally speak to Draff about the way he treats his daughter. 

He will be polite. He will be civil.

He will not bring his claymore.

He will not.

He’s going to bring his claymore.

⁎˚ ఎ Care Giver Wanderer ໒ ˚⁎

hello! can I request cg!wanderer (genshin impact) hcs? please and thank you! <3

•Despite his cold exterior and past deeds, Wanderer has an instinctive protective streak. He may pretend not to care about others, but when someone (especially a child or someone vulnerable) is in danger, he’ll step in without hesitation, often scolding them afterward for being reckless

•Due to his tumultuous past, Wanderer isn't experienced in offering comfort. If someone is upset, he might awkwardly pat them on the back or mutter, "Stop crying; it’s annoying." Despite his harsh tone, his actions reveal genuine concern, like subtly pushing a handkerchief towards them or standing close by to offer silent support !

•When it comes to caregiving, Wanderer is more about tough love than gentle nurturing. He believes in strengthening others through challenge rather than coddling them. He may train or push those under his care to overcome their weaknesses, seeing this as the best way to ensure they survive in a harsh world

•Though he tries to maintain his aloof demeanor, Wanderer performs small acts of kindness when no one is watching. Whether it's leaving extra food out for someone or quietly fixing something broken, he takes care to remain unnoticed, often brushing off any gratitude with a dismissive remark

•With his newfound freedom and evolving sense of self, Wanderer often asks questions about human emotions, relationships, and customs. He’s genuinely curious about what drives people to care for each other so deeply, even if he rarely admits it. This curiosity sometimes manifests in peculiar ways, like mimicking human behavior to see how it feels

•While he is protective, Wanderer’s past makes it difficult for him to connect deeply with others. He’s aware of his flaws and sees himself as unworthy of compassion, which can cause him to push people away even as he tries to help them. It’s a conflict between his desire for redemption and his belief that he doesn’t deserve it

•When he feels particularly introspective, Wanderer may share snippets of his past or stories he's heard, often framing them as lessons or warnings. These stories are often filled with dry wit or dark humor, but they sometimes reveal a softer, more reflective side that he tries to keep hidden

•Guardian of the Innocent He has a soft spot for children or those who remind him of his own vulnerability when he was created by Ei. He can be surprisingly patient with them, explaining things in simple terms or even allowing them to pester him with questions without losing his temper, though he may grumble about it later

•Wanderer often keeps a close eye on those around him without them realizing it. He’ll pretend not to care or even look bored, but in reality, he’s carefully watching to ensure everything is under control. He’s quick to intervene if something goes wrong, even if he pretends it’s no big deal

•As Wanderer continues to explore his identity and place in the world, he finds that caring for others helps him heal from his own pain. Each time he helps someone, it’s a step away from his past self and closer to becoming the person he wants to be, not just for others but for himself

•Cooking with Precision: Wanderer has learned to cook out of necessity, and his approach is meticulous and efficient. He doesn’t see cooking as an art but as a precise science !

•Each ingredient measured exactly, each step done methodically. Though his meals are often simple, they are surprisingly delicious, and he might secretly take pride in the positive reactions they get, even if he just rolls his eyes and mutters "It’s just food"

•Over time, Wanderer tries to learn how to express empathy more clearly, even if it doesn’t come naturally to him. He often practices in the mirror, trying out different expressions, or repeats comforting phrases he's heard others use. When he finally does express empathy, it can sound awkward or blunt, but those who know him realize that he's genuinely trying

•As a Caregiver, Wanderer starts to collect small, seemingly insignificant objects, like a child's drawing, a pressed flower, or a smooth stone someone gave him. These items are hidden away in a small pouch or box, and he tells himself they have no meaning, yet he can’t bring himself to throw them away

•Wanderer is often the last to sleep and the first to wake. He has a habit of patrolling or watching over the camp or resting area at night, ensuring everyone is safe. If asked, he’ll shrug it off as "not needing much sleep", but in reality, he finds some solace in these quiet moments, feeling a sense of purpose in guarding those under his care

If the age regressor Wanderer is caring for is non-verbal

•Observant and Attentive : he would pay close attention to facial expressions, hand movements, or any sounds they might make to understand what they need or how they feel. He might surprise himself with how naturally he starts to pick up on their cues over time

•Despite his usually blunt demeanor, Wanderer would recognize the importance of communication and might try to introduce tools like picture cards, drawings, or even basic sign language. At first, he might feel a bit awkward or frustrated, but his persistence and intelligence would drive him to find a method that works, knowing it would make things easier for both of them

•Wanderer isn't the most patient person by nature, but he would understand that his typical harshness or impatience won't help in this situation. He would try to be more measured in his tone and actions, realizing that his usual way of dealing with people needs adjustment. He would speak clearly and simply, using fewer words to avoid overwhelming them, and would often pause to give them time to process or respond in their own way

•While at first, Wanderer might view this as just another responsibility, over time, he would start to see how caring for someone non-verbal teaches him about different forms of communication and connection. He begins to realize that there are many ways to express care beyond words, leading to his own growth in empathy and understanding !

If you're in the basic criteria , are DSMP fans, vivziep0p fans , h0tel/h3lluva b0ss fans, Owl h0use fans, St4r butterfly fans, Ghibli fans, ddlg/abdl blogs, nsfw/k!nk blogs, anti-agere blogs, or anti Christians/Christianity blogs : just dont interact !

kitten regression activities!

this is about SFW petre. dni if k¡nk. i'm a minor. [div.]

▸ play with yarn or maybe knit/crochet!

▸ stretch or do yoga

▸ swat at things with your paws

▸ eat goldfish or other crunchy snacks

▸ take a nap in your nest or in the sun

▸ sunbathe

▸ scratch at pillows or furniture

▸ stalk and pounce on your stuffies or friend!

▸ try to see how quietly you can sneak around

▸ headbutt and rub up against things

▸ watch fish swim around in videos! or get one of those games where you can watch them!

▸ practice your meow!

rainy day moodboard ☂‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ.

splashing in puddles, putting worms back on the grass, the raindrops on the window having a race, gray skies, wind whipping your dampening hair, flowers poking out of the wet grass, warm humid air, leaving the window open to fall asleep to the rain, the sun poking out of the clouds and giving the world a warm glow at the end of a gray day, taking a bath at the end of the day to wash off the rainwater and mud, cuddling under warm soft blankets and listening to the gentle pitter patter of the rain as you fall asleep in your caregivers arms as they rub your back

how we feel two weeks after a traumatic event is how pearl felt in canon

it’s been 14 years since rose died, and considering how gems have been around for eons, fourteen years would feel like fourteen days to them

next time you want to judge pearl’s flawed trauma responses, intense emotions, and obsession with rose, just think about this and maybe she’ll become relatable instead of despicable to you

saw some regressors excited for spring so i thought i would do another calming green board <3