Wriothesley the typa MAN to pretend to be the good cop in a good ol’ investigation and charm you into lowering your rebellious ahh’s guard so that the only thing he’ll have to do to get you to finally confess to your crimes is to just abandon the nice-guy act mid-talk and just… dig into you DEEP. KNUCKLE-DEEP. FIST-DEEP INTO YOUR C—onscience to the point where you just blurt everything out because you’re way too much of a nervous wreck in his presence.
This man could have your fearful soul leave your body and he’d just pat you on the back and chirp out a “See? Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” and a “Thanks, hon! See ya when you get better!” after.
Confessing to your crimes is one thing, but admitting your feelings?! Whew! Better to go to jail and keep you and your secret under lock and key in Meropide instead, buddy…
In which your all-time-favorite cannibal starts her day by insulting your attempt at a new look, your husband doesn’t take kindly to such insults.
Warnings - Body shaming, swearing, insecurities, Susan ugh Susan, Alastor in general, suggestive themes at the end
“You look absolutely fantastic, cher!” The Radio Demon loudly proclaimed, his trademark smile pulled wider than usual as he took in your form out of its usual wear.
“Stop, you. I’m only wearing this because it looked sad sitting in the closet.” Your reasoning was silly in his opinion, “Clothes have no expression!” He would’ve said but kept to himself to refrain from making you sad.
“Well, worry not, my dear!” Alastor began, taking your hand into his and pulling you towards him at a surprising speed. “Alastor!” You yelped as he twirled you in your new dress, closing his arms around you as soon as your back hit his chest.
“You’ll always look delectable in whatever you wear…”
His voice lowered as the static in his throat rumbled from behind you, making the hairs on your neck stand on end as you squeak and noticeably shiver. “My! Stop teasing!” You finally break away from his hold and slap his bicep, scolding your husband for his behavior while he only chuckled. “Alright, alright, cher, let’s go on an outing today. Rosie will absolutely adore your look once we visit Cannibal Town!”
“Oh my stars! Alastor! Sweetie! So nice to see you lot around here again!”
Once you and your husband stepped foot into Rosie’s Emporium and into the long lines of cannibals waiting to see their overlord, the said woman weaved through the crowd with a bright smile before gasping loudly at the sight of you,
“Oh honey! You look absolutely divine, you gorgeous, gorgeous girl!” Rosie quickly held both your shoulders and gave you a little twirl with how giddy she was about you. “Oh dear, we’re doing a lot of spinning today!” You muttered as the Cannibal Overlord settled you down on the ground while dusting your shoulder off with a pat. “I told you she’d love your look, cher.” Alastor chided in with a smug grin, leaning on his cane as he waited for Rosie to stop gushing over his beautiful wife. (He’d have to wait months before the smiley woman would ever stop). After an hour of conversing, Rosie had taken her leave to continue on with her work, leaving you two alone to stroll around outside the emporium.
“You look good, girl,” A voice as rough as sandpaper spoke from behind and down your gaze was the lady in blue that you know and hate love. “Thank you, miss Su-“
“For a waitress, that is!”
Well you were caught off guard and so was your husband, “A what now?” His eye twitched as he tilted his head, the hands that were gripping his microphone now dented it. “Your little wifey here looks like she could lose a few of those tubs workin’ at a diner! No husband would wanna stay with this.” Susan gestured to you, specifically your torso. So embarrassing, really, you were so humiliated that you unconsciously pulled at the fabric covering your stomach to at least let you gain a sense of non-exposure. It was all for naught when you felt Alastor’s hand snake around your waist, the fabric under his arm pinned to accentuate your hips.
“Maybe try and aim to be someone like me! A natural beauty! Unlike your sorry excuse of a-“
“I admire the concern, Susan!” Alastor’s ever-present smile felt as if he was baring his teeth at her instead, he pulled you closer to him in the process as he narrowed his eyes at the cannibal. “Certainly big talk for a woman with a big mirror for her equally big, sagging mass of skin she calls natural beauty!” With each venom he spat, he got closer to her face, the static in his voice becoming too loud for the rest of his insults to be heard, leaving Susan to just scoff and walk away from you and your husband. Even when he had the last word though, he still gave his last word, “We’re glad you had room for a conversation with us! I was worried that you wouldn’t be able to fit!”
“Slow down, Buck, the woman’s already leaving, let’s go home.” However amused you were, the lingering sense of humiliation gnawed at you, unnoticed by your husband who continued ranting about Susan. “Big talk! Haha! I was on a roll there, cher!” A laughing track played from his cane and when he received a hum in response was when he noticed your soured mood.
Night had fallen in Hell and the two of you spent it inside your shared hotel room, the gentle breeze of the bayou that took up his room did little to cool the burning sensations in your body. “Alastor, please, I-“ “No way in Hell are you listening to that ornery old bitch, dear.” The Radio Demon trailed his claws along your stomach before he gripped your hips tight, “Your body was made to be worshipped, not insulted.” he led his hands up to rest one hand on your neck and the other intertwining with yours. “Praised by me alone.”
Your throat constricted in the way you knew well enough and as his hand left your throat, a ghostly-green chain was left in his wake.
Il Capitano is the type of MAN who is never going to let his s/o go to bed angry at him… (yeah, yeah, queue the music). After a particularly nasty argument that ends with his back to his lover’s just the same, he’d sigh loudly every minute the way dogs do that sigh when they think they pay rent. What can he do? It’s the only way to get their attention that wouldn’t immediately lead to another fight, he wouldn’t put that stress on them.
He would do this until his s/o acknowledged his sighs, the next sigh would’ve popped their ears off were it not for the fact that the increasing volume of his sighs were because he was inching closer to them, hands just shy of wrapping around their waist. He’d ‘wound his pride’ for them and apologize for his mistake (his s/o knows that it could be their own mistake but who’d pass the opportunity to be right?)
The Captain is the type of man that has an s/o who melts like putty at his gentlemanliness, I’d melt at his ruthlessness too either way
Capitano with a chubby wife..(please im sick and tired of there only being yandere fanfics for him I absolutely despise it)
I hope to pass your standards with this one 🤧
Soft
In which the First of the Fatui Harbingers has a spouse, a chubby spouse <3
Warnings - nun (one freaky deaky author note)
The Captain with a chubby spouse who believes that being larger than the stupid beauty standard just meant that he could love and hold more of you, all he sees is you, so pretty, so elegant, and so much his.
It is only fitting that being the spouse of the First of the Fatui Harbingers, you get a fur cape much like his. Unfortunately, he doesn’t like you wearing it. Why? So he can share his with you each time you’re cold.
For the reason that Capitano wears his cape for warmth and to appear strong, you wear yours so that you could hide your body and feel less vulnerable. Sure, being the Captain’s wife means you were respected just as much as him but whispers tend to go around and your husband is not with you each time it happens.
You’re upset that you can’t use your own fur cloak that you hold a grudge against Capitano, ignoring him so much that he can’t help but deflate like a kicked puppy each time you avoided him. His best solution? Trap you in his arms and hide you in his own cloak, the soft fur tickling your face as he continues on with his day. It’s a win for him each time, he gets to hold you close AND keep you by his side throughout the day. Maybe sharing his things was a good idea.
With a hidden face, you can never tell what the Captain is thinking, but it doesn’t mean you can’t predict what he does on the daily. You know that when he inches closer to you so suddenly, you have to accept that he’ll pinch your cheeks with the gentleness of a butterfly’s wing flaps, he just looks at you while doing so and he thinks it’s very cute when you frown with puffed cheeks and pursed lips.
On days when he’s lucky, he can even manage to bite your cheeks, expect that when he bites your right cheek, he’ll bite the left one in a few hours, he never leaves a job unfinished. (Neither does he me 🤗).
When you don’t want to eat or finish the proper proportion of a meal, Capitano just doesn’t say anything and uses his pointer and thumb to press your cheeks together, opening your mouth so that he can gently spoon-feed you. He knows when to do so because the last thing he wants is for his beloved to be sick.
For being a fan of Alhaitham for the longest time, I have NEVER given him a headcanon or a drabble…
Each Bite Leaves An Indentation Meant to Last
In which you and Alhaitham talk about biting.
Warnings - nun
Such is a day when the Akademiya is no bother to either you or the Scribe resting beneath you, his eyes trained on the tome he had recently picked up from the House of Daena that you so graciously recommended he read. You took it upon yourself to nap on top of him like a contented feline while he did his reading on… the evolutions of disease…? (Aetiology, really?), it seems that you’ll be the only bother in his day today as you lounged in the sun-kissed living room…
“Say, Mr. Know-It-All… if we were in a zombie apocalypse and you finally turned into a brainless man, would you bite me if you see my beautiful face?”
You asked the question with such sweetness in your tone that he couldn’t help but answer in the meanest deadpanned voice ever, never glancing down your direction as he casually flipped to a new page, “No. I hardly think I’d have the presence of mind to specifically target you if I did.”
“You’re no fun, where’s the imagination— hey, ouch!” Alhaitham didn’t need imagination when you had enough for both of you, opting to answer and shut you up by gently yet firmly bringing the book down to the top of your head to rest, “Don’t be dramatic.” Leave it to you to be creative in your dramatics while you feigned hurt and rubbed the spot on your head where his book met it.
“But even if I did get bit, which is impossible if ever because I’m not as reckless as you, I’d at least have the decency to warn you so you can make a quick escape…” The Scribe calmly states with a closing snap of his book, placing it down on the nearby coffee table before patting your head in a silent apology,
“But I suppose you’d likely stubbornly insist on staying by my side all throughout, wouldn’t you?” Turquoise eyes hugged around orange looked at you with disbelief drowned out by love as he places a lingering kiss to your forehead, followed by lofty giggles escaping your lips.
“Obviously. Who do you think you are to play hero, Scribe?” You answer with a scoff as you pinch his cheek, he could only huff in playful agitation before bringing your hand to his lips, placing a reverent kiss on each digit before placing a lingering kiss to your palm.
“Someone who loves you very much to always put you first?” His forwardness earned him a bright blush from your cheeks as you stuck your tongue out incredulously, “Zombie or not, I think I’d bite you out of sheer cringe.” To that, he just chuckles breathlessly, “You’re always welcome to try.”
(Me when I’m feeling mischievous and intellectual)
In which Alastor takes a liking to a particular habit of yours.
Warnings- form of SH, blood, Alastor in general
Alastor likes it when you pick at your lips.
Whenever you did, if no one would stop you, you’d pick at your lips until you drew blood, and that’s when he swoops in to kiss you and savor that delicious tang of metal that flows from your roughed-up lips. He’d jump at any chance to get a taste of you, quite literally, your extreme temper makes for quite the savory note.
It became a habit of his, and it had gotten to the point that everyone in the hotel noticed how scarred your lips had become. Charlie, ever the kind nephilim, reached out to help you get rid of your oh so unhealthy habit only for the Radio Demon to interfere and whisk you away for more of those bloody kisses. He would never ever want you to stop peeling that rosy skin off your lips.
“Cher, your cold dead lips have me feelin’ all warm and alive, it’s quite addictive!”
Alastor, no matter how bad it is for you, will always be good for him. So why don’t you be a good little doe and give your lover a nice sweet kiss, hm?
Kinich is this guy who has his heart closed even before a claw drove its way into his chest during the Night Warden Wars. His heart that was so full of love with no one to love, finds itself fluttering in its confines when he sees you for the first time. As both you and time grew older, Kinich finds himself enamored with your every step and Ajaw is driven to insult both of you everyday because of it. Kinich is this guy who everyone sees as a child who matured too quickly but away from the curious gazes, when he kisses you so sweetly, you see how he smiles, how boyish, how flustered, how animated.
Kinich is this guy who should become real because I’m going crazy.
When Kinich streams and plays video games, his stream chat mostly consists of viewers who love to see his pet… cat? Chameleon? Pixel? Parrot???
Anywho, other times, his viewers also consists of people who find ways to make him angry, furious even. It’s because he makes a face so stupid it makes others think he’s not the hero of the Scions and it’s so entertaining to see him rage on a game so below him.
A small description - crazed eyes, puffed-out cheeks, reddened face, and a look that makes you think he’s taking a shit mid-game. His face goes so red that it’s probably where Ajaw gets his expression from when he’s mad.
