Princesschimchim1325 - SimpWonderland

Listen, Joe Zieja (his eng va) said he is a charming man and I am running with that 💀. Idk if you watch spy x family but Sigewinne is basically the Anya to his Loid 🥺

Someone said he is husky coded and honstly I see it

Some Wriothesley headcanons

~ contents: pre-fontaine wriothesley headcanons, fluff, a tiny bit suggestive

~ a/n: ever since this man was shown in the trailer, i am falling hard for him and there isn't that much written about him so I decided to make some myself even though there is not much information about him. plus this is my first time writing headcanons so i'm new to this so hopefully this isn't too rough :)

i think his animal theme is suppose to be a wolf so I see him as being the big, bad, scary wolf but really he's just a big teddy bear

a true gentleman

i can see him preferring physical affection, more than verbal affection

loves giving forehead kisses and hugs, especially hugs from behind

enjoys snuggling, especially when tired (which is often due to his work)

prefers being big spoon

tea dates

likes to tease

has fangs

likes playful biting/nipping especially on the neck

would be a caring, protective boyfriend

would ask you about your day, listen to you vent, or help you with any other troubles you may have

Sigwinne is literally his child. he spoils her, would do anything for her

probably practices boxing in his free time

⛓️ Wriothesley x Reader ⛓️ Eye of the Beholder

In Fontaine’s rugged, unforgiving depths, there is no beauty to be seen by the sane traveler, unless one finds themselves with a curious fascination for filth. The ambience was dark and dreary, with only the most rusted of browns and aged of grays visible to the naked eye. Disgusting, it was, compared to the well-developed aquatic and surface regions of Fontaine and even the rest of Teyvat.

As a warden of Fontaine’s unforgiving dungeons, Wriothesley had no reason to see any sort of beauty in his surroundings. It mattered not if the convict was dressed in the finest reds or the most lowly of rags; if he caught them acting out of line or they somehow managed to slip under the noses of the wardens, he would not hesitate to hunt down the prisoners and bare his fangs. Little bark, all bite, he was known for.

On the rare chances that he did have an opportunity to rise to the surface, his poor eyesight did become somewhat of a hinderance. Under the cover of darkness, everything was in at least twenty different shades of gray. The real world as he knew it was merely blue, golden, and gray.

Through his eyes, the world was merely comprised of shades of those three colors. The rainbow of corals filling the sea and the colorful fish swimming alongside aquatic travelers were sights that Wriothesley was cursed to never behold himself. He had grown used to it, walking along the dungeons and all, but a deep part of him yearned to see the world in its full vibrance.

As you looked down from the water’s edge and found yourself engrossed in the diversity of Fontaine’s nature, Wriothesley would not share that same enthusiasm as you did. Perhaps it was due to his lack of occupancies outside of wrangling prisoners that he found no value in frivolous nature watching. You had faith, however, that if he could actually see what you were experiencing for himself, then he too, would be engrossed by the beauty of Fontaine’s upper-class regions.

He stood by a post out of habit, scanning the area around him while trying to keep his focus on your whereabouts. It was a warden’s habit to remain wary, as it was something that cannot be helped. He wasn’t too eager to hit every sightseeing location in the vicinity, but the fresh air at the very least would do his health some good. Wriothesley rarely had a chance for personal recreation, but when given the chance, he did not hesitate to accompany you on the surface for the time that he was allotted.  

Raising an eyebrow, Wriothesley asked you, “What could you possibly find so intriguing about Fontaine’s waters?”

“You just need to take a moment to have a close look for yourself. From floor to surface, its bursting with colorful life,” you said.

Wriothesley shook his head, disinterested in your frivolous observations. The world above Fontaine’s dungeons was just as dull and colorless as the one below him, and so he showed minimal interest in observing the varieties of gold and gray, something he was far too used to seeing in the underground. Silently, he rejected your invitation to observe the waters, and continued resting his body by the post where his gaze remained sharp.

How do you get someone who cannot see the full rainbow to experience life’s vividness through your eyes? Red was but a concept to him, as he was even blind to the intimidating aura of his maroon clothing. Luscious flora was not an attention grabber, with nature’s blessing of the color green being nothing more than a shade of gold to Wriothesley’s wolf-like eyes. The violet corals accenting the forests of pink and orange…to him, they all felt merely the same.

If the physical appearance of color mattered not, then you would have to resort to other methods of conveying the beauty of the world that you saw. You grabbed his arm and tugged him away from the post, dragging him to overlook the waters below. A tall, dancing bush of seagrass waved happily in the gentle current, which you had pointed out to Wriothesley.

“Look at that. What color do you see that as, exactly?”

“…Golden, diluted by a crisp ocean blue. Why do you ask?”

You shook your head, though you knew that he was answering with complete honesty and precisely what he saw from his view.

“Feels like it blends in with the rest of the world, if I’m not mistaken?” you asked.

Wriothesley nodded his head.

“Now…define it not as the golden brown you perceive it as, but more of like…as if the seagrass was brimming with the energy of mother nature herself. It radiates serenity…tranquility…an ornament to emphasize the liveliness that is Fontaine’s ecosystem. This seagrass is but a small example of what the force of life in Teyvat’s has to offer…what we are blessed to call ‘being alive.’ Serenity…peace…the sea itself, all hidden beneath the human nature of envy and illness that is part of this inevitable cycle.

He tilted his head curiously.

“Through my eyes, I simply see it as the color green. To you, however, it exists not as a sight to behold, but as a concept with meaning that the average eye could simply not do justice with sight alone.  

You pointed to a batch of branching corals not too far from the seagrass that you had observed.

“These corals,” you said. “how do they appear to you?”

“Darker than the seagrass, though still a shade golden yellow,” he stated.

“Hmmm…these corals are, in fact, quite energetic compared to their seagrass companions. They are bursting with vibrance, capturing your attention and filling you with joy as you gaze upon their tree-like structure. It’s a sense of happiness that cannot be put into words, yet it brightens you day like a warm sun during early autumn…”

Wriothesley focused on these corals as you explained how they felt, though he could feel his attention drifting from the meaning of the words to the mere sound of your voice.

“That is what I call orange. To you, it is the idea of happiness, bustling with joy and energy. Take pride in being able to embrace its luxury, for we do not appreciate its brightness until it has departed our lives.

Wriothesley seemed more attentive than before, as perhaps you had opened his eyes to the feeling of color, rather than thinking of it as something to merely see. He was scanning the water itself, both surface and floor, attempting to visualize the shades of gold that he sees as the feelings that you had described. After a few moments of observation, he pointed to a rounded coral, distinct from the branches you have described prior.

“Those?” you asked.

He nodded gently. “The rounded, lighter blue ones amongst the branched varieties…”

“The rounded corals serve as a metaphor for our imaginations. Their curious existence invokes a sense of mystery and discovery in the ones who have the honor of spotting these rarities. Nobles of both past and present would adorn themselves with these gems, limited only by their imagination; something that the lower class may not have the honor of witnessing in their lifetime. The diamonds in the rough you see here, are what I know as the color purple.”

Wriothesley had become so invested in your beautiful words, that he had lost his concentration on the truly vibrant world that his eyes were blind to. He looked down at himself, perhaps out of shame for his self-perceived dullness, then gazed out at the sea full of energetic corals and peaceful seagrass that stretched as far as the waters would allow. Nothing more than shades of gray and burnt yellow, he was doomed to see himself as.

But Wriothesley was far from what he viewed himself as. His own unique vibrance told a story in itself. It told how he had experienced years of bloodshed from such a rough occupation, how he showed passion to what was important to him, and how he had the strength to carry on despite the injuries that threatened to take his life on numerous occasions.

The dark red suit told a story in its own. Wriothesley was a tough man, but he was also full of care and compassion. By showing no mercy to those who broke the nation’s laws, he assured that the citizens of Fontaine could roam the streets freely and safely.

Wriothesley’s suit was the color of the feelings that you two had for each other.

Not to mention, the color of his face when you explained the meaning behind the red he was adorned with.

Boxer Al-Haitham Shows Off in the Ring

Pairing: Boxer!Al-Haitham x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, boxing, injury, showing off, blowing kisses, flirting, locker room kissing

A/N: Boxers are just universally hot. They just are, its how it works.

Boxer!Al-Haitham who looks for you in the crowd and does a little pose for you before entering the ring. He's only started doing this recently after you started dating but and it is a little embarrassing for him but he knows you like it, and it sends the crowd wild which is good for his future deals.

Boxer!Al-Haitham who chills his hands with ice even when he's at home because his fists keep aching. Because of this he's a little bit hesitant to take your hand, afraid of it being too cold and uncomfortable for you to hold. The ice isn't the only thing that melts when you not only take his hand but also proceed to kiss his bruises one by one.

Boxer!Al-Haitham who trains almost day and night, barely having a break because he knows that there are many who can physically overwhelm him. But he can be faster, he can be more agile, he can see through their guard better, that's the key to his victories in the end, his speed and mind.

Boxer!Al-Haitham who gets up after being knocked down only when he zeroes in on your voice and your face in the crowd cheering him on. He might be bloody and bruised but he promised you a date after this and god damn it he won't take you to dinner after losing such an important mach. This round will be his.

Boxer!Al-Haitham who blows kisses into the crowd after his victory and through his slightly dizzy vision manages to locate you and send you a few extra kisses. It's almost funny to see him barely standing tall and still being so stubborn about it. It would be funny if you weren't worried about him collapsing at any moment now. And... there he goes, right after that little wink.

Boxer!Al-Haitham who replays the footage from every one of his matches to he can improve next time. He has pages and pages of notes written about the various forms, combinations, guards and stances he can take or could have taken. Sometimes it feels like he's back at collage studding for a test and not a pro boxer champion.

Boxer!Al-Haitham who loves the massages you give him when he gets to sleep in. There are professionals who do this too but he only wants your hands on him. Plus he can flirt and tease you, be it verbally or when he flexes his muscles under your fingers when you pass over them.

Boxer!Al-Haitham gives you the keys to the locker room so you can wait for him in there and not have to push through all the people storming him along with him after a mach. It's tiering for him too but at least he gets to come back into your arms in private. And maybe hear you scold him about a bruise or two but it's nothing some medicine and kisses wouldn't fix.

Boxer!Al-Haitham who cringes when you buy so much of his merch, the shirts, the boxer gloves, oh god the fucking pillows and boxer shorts. Why did he even agree to those? Well at least you good wearing them, and the fact that his name is on them... he has to admit it does something to him.

Boxer!Al-Haitham who shows off his strength by lifting you up against the lockers and kissing you. Don't hold it against him please, he needs a little good luck kiss if he's gonna do well in the next match. Just don't grind against him, he doesn't have time for a cold shower..

⛓️ Wriothesley x Reader ⛓️ Eye of the Beholder

In Fontaine’s rugged, unforgiving depths, there is no beauty to be seen by the sane traveler, unless one finds themselves with a curious fascination for filth. The ambience was dark and dreary, with only the most rusted of browns and aged of grays visible to the naked eye. Disgusting, it was, compared to the well-developed aquatic and surface regions of Fontaine and even the rest of Teyvat.

As a warden of Fontaine’s unforgiving dungeons, Wriothesley had no reason to see any sort of beauty in his surroundings. It mattered not if the convict was dressed in the finest reds or the most lowly of rags; if he caught them acting out of line or they somehow managed to slip under the noses of the wardens, he would not hesitate to hunt down the prisoners and bare his fangs. Little bark, all bite, he was known for.

On the rare chances that he did have an opportunity to rise to the surface, his poor eyesight did become somewhat of a hinderance. Under the cover of darkness, everything was in at least twenty different shades of gray. The real world as he knew it was merely blue, golden, and gray.

Through his eyes, the world was merely comprised of shades of those three colors. The rainbow of corals filling the sea and the colorful fish swimming alongside aquatic travelers were sights that Wriothesley was cursed to never behold himself. He had grown used to it, walking along the dungeons and all, but a deep part of him yearned to see the world in its full vibrance.

As you looked down from the water’s edge and found yourself engrossed in the diversity of Fontaine’s nature, Wriothesley would not share that same enthusiasm as you did. Perhaps it was due to his lack of occupancies outside of wrangling prisoners that he found no value in frivolous nature watching. You had faith, however, that if he could actually see what you were experiencing for himself, then he too, would be engrossed by the beauty of Fontaine’s upper-class regions.

He stood by a post out of habit, scanning the area around him while trying to keep his focus on your whereabouts. It was a warden’s habit to remain wary, as it was something that cannot be helped. He wasn’t too eager to hit every sightseeing location in the vicinity, but the fresh air at the very least would do his health some good. Wriothesley rarely had a chance for personal recreation, but when given the chance, he did not hesitate to accompany you on the surface for the time that he was allotted.  

Raising an eyebrow, Wriothesley asked you, “What could you possibly find so intriguing about Fontaine’s waters?”

“You just need to take a moment to have a close look for yourself. From floor to surface, its bursting with colorful life,” you said.

Wriothesley shook his head, disinterested in your frivolous observations. The world above Fontaine’s dungeons was just as dull and colorless as the one below him, and so he showed minimal interest in observing the varieties of gold and gray, something he was far too used to seeing in the underground. Silently, he rejected your invitation to observe the waters, and continued resting his body by the post where his gaze remained sharp.

How do you get someone who cannot see the full rainbow to experience life’s vividness through your eyes? Red was but a concept to him, as he was even blind to the intimidating aura of his maroon clothing. Luscious flora was not an attention grabber, with nature’s blessing of the color green being nothing more than a shade of gold to Wriothesley’s wolf-like eyes. The violet corals accenting the forests of pink and orange…to him, they all felt merely the same.

If the physical appearance of color mattered not, then you would have to resort to other methods of conveying the beauty of the world that you saw. You grabbed his arm and tugged him away from the post, dragging him to overlook the waters below. A tall, dancing bush of seagrass waved happily in the gentle current, which you had pointed out to Wriothesley.

“Look at that. What color do you see that as, exactly?”

“…Golden, diluted by a crisp ocean blue. Why do you ask?”

You shook your head, though you knew that he was answering with complete honesty and precisely what he saw from his view.

“Feels like it blends in with the rest of the world, if I’m not mistaken?” you asked.

Wriothesley nodded his head.

“Now…define it not as the golden brown you perceive it as, but more of like…as if the seagrass was brimming with the energy of mother nature herself. It radiates serenity…tranquility…an ornament to emphasize the liveliness that is Fontaine’s ecosystem. This seagrass is but a small example of what the force of life in Teyvat’s has to offer…what we are blessed to call ‘being alive.’ Serenity…peace…the sea itself, all hidden beneath the human nature of envy and illness that is part of this inevitable cycle.

He tilted his head curiously.

“Through my eyes, I simply see it as the color green. To you, however, it exists not as a sight to behold, but as a concept with meaning that the average eye could simply not do justice with sight alone.  

You pointed to a batch of branching corals not too far from the seagrass that you had observed.

“These corals,” you said. “how do they appear to you?”

“Darker than the seagrass, though still a shade golden yellow,” he stated.

“Hmmm…these corals are, in fact, quite energetic compared to their seagrass companions. They are bursting with vibrance, capturing your attention and filling you with joy as you gaze upon their tree-like structure. It’s a sense of happiness that cannot be put into words, yet it brightens you day like a warm sun during early autumn…”

Wriothesley focused on these corals as you explained how they felt, though he could feel his attention drifting from the meaning of the words to the mere sound of your voice.

“That is what I call orange. To you, it is the idea of happiness, bustling with joy and energy. Take pride in being able to embrace its luxury, for we do not appreciate its brightness until it has departed our lives.

Wriothesley seemed more attentive than before, as perhaps you had opened his eyes to the feeling of color, rather than thinking of it as something to merely see. He was scanning the water itself, both surface and floor, attempting to visualize the shades of gold that he sees as the feelings that you had described. After a few moments of observation, he pointed to a rounded coral, distinct from the branches you have described prior.

“Those?” you asked.

He nodded gently. “The rounded, lighter blue ones amongst the branched varieties…”

“The rounded corals serve as a metaphor for our imaginations. Their curious existence invokes a sense of mystery and discovery in the ones who have the honor of spotting these rarities. Nobles of both past and present would adorn themselves with these gems, limited only by their imagination; something that the lower class may not have the honor of witnessing in their lifetime. The diamonds in the rough you see here, are what I know as the color purple.”

Wriothesley had become so invested in your beautiful words, that he had lost his concentration on the truly vibrant world that his eyes were blind to. He looked down at himself, perhaps out of shame for his self-perceived dullness, then gazed out at the sea full of energetic corals and peaceful seagrass that stretched as far as the waters would allow. Nothing more than shades of gray and burnt yellow, he was doomed to see himself as.

But Wriothesley was far from what he viewed himself as. His own unique vibrance told a story in itself. It told how he had experienced years of bloodshed from such a rough occupation, how he showed passion to what was important to him, and how he had the strength to carry on despite the injuries that threatened to take his life on numerous occasions.

The dark red suit told a story in its own. Wriothesley was a tough man, but he was also full of care and compassion. By showing no mercy to those who broke the nation’s laws, he assured that the citizens of Fontaine could roam the streets freely and safely.

Wriothesley’s suit was the color of the feelings that you two had for each other.

Not to mention, the color of his face when you explained the meaning behind the red he was adorned with.

I apologize in advance for the person I'll become once we get more Wriothesley content...