#duke and duchess of adorable | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

archduchessofnowhere · 1 year

Text

“I pray daily to the good Lord to preserve you for a long time for our happiness”

The other day I discovered Antiquariat Inlibris, an Austrian antique store that specialize in selling rare books and letters, and their online catalogue is a true mine gold of content. Among the many items I came across with were three letters that Empress Elisabeth of Austria, Duke Karl Theodor in Bavaria and Queen Marie Sophie of the Two Sicilies wrote when they were children to their mother Duchess Ludovika, congratulating her on her birthday.

The first two are from a nine-years-old Elisabeth and a seven-years-old Karl Theodor, both dated August 25, 1847. Elisabeth wrote her letter in French, while her brother wrote it in German, in verse. Note how they used the same lace-decorated paper.

Transcription:

Ma chère Maman!

Je te félicite de tout mon cœur pour ta fête; je prie journellement le bon Dieu de Te conserver longtemps pour notre bonheur. Te promettant de faire mon possible pour Te contenter, chère maman, je Te prie d’aimer toujours

Ta reconnaissante fille Elise.

Translation:

My dear Mama!

I congratulate you from my whole heart on your birthday; I pray daily to the good Lord to preserve you for a long time for our happiness. I promise you to do my best to please you, dear mama, I pray that you always love Your grateful daughter Elise

Transcription:

Sieh, wie hier, dieß Herz in selig stiller Wonne, | Theuerste Mama, von Liebe überfließt, | Heut! Da gleich den Tag die holde Morgensonne | Dich Geliebteste dein Namensfest begrüßt. | Fromme Wünsche, die in meinem Herzen glühen, | Steigen für dein stetes Wohl zum Himmel auf. | Schön und anmuthsvoll, wie Frühlingsblumen blühen, | Die der Thau erquickt, so sey dein Lebenslauf. | Mög der güt'ge Himmel seine besten Gaben, | Dir verleihen, lächeln dir mit holdem Blick, | Stets mit süßer Freude deine Seele laben, | Lohnen deine Mutterliebe mit reinstem Glück. | Ich will werth seyn stets des Himmels hoher Gnade | Die in deinem Glücke er auch mir beschert, | Und verdienen immerdar auf meinem Lebenspfade | Das, was deine treue Mutterliebe mir gewährt.

Karl.

Translation by DeepL, but since this is a poem the automatic translator likely butchered it:

See, how here, this heart in blissful silent delight, | Dearest mama, overflowing with love, | Today! Since the fair morning sun is about to dawn | You most beloved your name festival greets. | Pious wishes, which glow in my heart, rise to heaven for your constant well-being. | Beautiful and graceful as spring flowers bloom, | Which the dew refreshes, so be thy course. | May the good heaven bestow its best gifts on thee, | Bestow upon thee, smile upon thee with a fair look, | With sweet joy thy soul always refresh, | Reward thy motherly love with purest happiness. | I will always be worthy of heaven's high grace. | Which in your happiness he also bestows on me, | And merit evermore on my life's path | That which your faithful motherly love grants me.

Karl.

The third congratulation letter is dated August 30, 1850, and it was written in German by an eight-years-old Marie:

Transcription:

Liebe Maman!

Freudig ergreife ich heute bei Gelegenheit deines Geburtsfestes die Feder um dir die Wünsche meines Herzens, aus aufrichtigem und kindlichem Gemüthe stammend, darzubringen. Möge der liebe Gott dich noch viele Jahre im besten Wohlseyn und ungestörter Zufriedenheit erleben lassen und dir alle Güter, die dein Leben zu verschönern im Stande sind im reichsten Maße zu Theil werden lassen. Möge aber auch der liebe Gott mein Bemühen, dir durch Fleiß recht viele Freude zu machen, segnen und es mir auf diese Weise gegönnt seyn, dir deine mütterliche Sorgfalt und Liebe einigermaßen zu vergelten und mich derselben immer würdiger zu machen. Dieß sind die Wünsche um deren Erfüllung heute ganz besonders zu Gott bitten wird deine dich innigliebende Tochter Marie

Translation by DeepL:

Dear Mama!

Joyfully I take the pen today on the occasion of your birthday to offer you the wishes of my heart, coming from a sincere and childlike mind. May the good Lord let you experience many more years in the best well-being and undisturbed contentment and grant you all the goods that are capable of embellishing your life in the richest measure. May the good Lord also bless my efforts to bring you much joy through diligence and may it be granted to me in this way to repay you to some extent for your motherly care and love and to make myself more and more worthy of it. These are the wishes for the fulfillment of which your daughter Marie, who loves you dearly, will especially pray to God today.

Interestingly Marie and Karl Theodor's letters are each €1500, while Elisabeth's letter costs €15000, a true testament on how anything that Sisi and her myth touched can turn into gold. More importantly, however, is how these letters are a testament on how much Ludovika was loved by her children.

Sources: [x] [x] [x]

#any depiction of her as a bad mother has absolutely NO rights at all #her kids ADORED HER !!!#empress elisabeth of austria #karl theodor duke in bavaria #queen marie sophie of the two sicilies #ludovika of bavaria duchess in bavaria #house of wittelsbach

18 notes · View notes

makelemonade · 27 days

Note

straight horny to your request, so basically arranged mirage with neuvillette and wriothesley (separately) BUT! they gain baby fever 😋 write anything you have in mind, thank you 🫡

arranged marriage + baby fever

wrio, Neuvillette - fem + AFAB reader

I suck at titles LOL and it’s kinda short I am so sorry 🙏🏽 this is my first time writing baby fever idk if I did good but WHATEVA

Wriothesley

- I won’t lie to you…I barely know his character LOL uhm…

-like I’m at the part in the archon quest where we just met him

-so I hope this is like…okay

-I’d assume that Neuvillette maybe put you two together, seemingly as a duke needed his duchess. After all his complaining about being an independent man he finally agrees to the marriage.

-at first he’s not really fond of you. Sure, he’s nice to you, but don’t see it as anyrbing more. He still has a job to do.

-but then he really takes into consideration just how sweet you are for him- you’re so obedient and it starts to drive him crazy

-you always have his tea ready for him and he can’t lie when it comes to the fact that maybe he is starting to like you

-and god the way you know how to massage him, whether it be his back, arms, legs, neck- it fucking drives him crazy

-so naturally you start to massage his dick too.

-he loves to make love to you and fuck you- yes they are two completely different things to him. he babbles about how grateful he is to have such a slutty and obedient wife like you

-he LOVES to call you “my wife” when he fucks you, and he loves to think back to when he was so against it and he’ll slap himself because who would not want such a good wife like you?!?

-it means your his, and he loves it.

-what drives him absolutely insane is when he sees you with Sigewinne; you’re so caring, attentative and always so helpful to her that he starts to let his mind wander

-he thinks you’ll look cute with a swollen belly, one he can rub everyday. He imagines what your kids will look like- will they act like you? have your eyes? his hair?

-he needed to fuck a baby into you, and stat.

-he will waste no time in dragging you away to his office or really anywhere in the fortress to breed you…!

“fuuuck baby,” He drawls out his groan, hiking your legs further up his shoulder while also pushing them down as your pushed deeper into his desk.

“so- so goddamn cute, agh! helping Sigewinne and being such a good mommy…”

“Nghh~ oh! Wr-wrio!” You gasp when you feel hot ropes of his cum begin to fill you up, and he makes no move to stop.

He watched the way your tits bounced as he fucked into you, and he moved one hand up to grope at them, imaging how swollen they’d be later in the future, and how he’d get to massage them for you…

“Gonna fuck a baby into you, sweetheart! Needa fill you up…breed you! and you won’t waste anything. Right, you’ll be my good wife…”

Neuvillette

-MY MANNNNNNNNNN

-okay I’d imagine that Furina def arranged this marriage and let me tell u he was NOT AGAINST IT

-why would he be?!? you were gorgeous, adorable, kind, sweet- everything he’d ever imagine for his beloved to be so of course naturally he’s gonna develop these feelings for you

-he watches how you treat people and is so grateful to be able to call you his wife that when he’s talking to other people, he doesn’t even use your name and just tends to say “my wife”

-in full honesty, he also acts like that for another reason; he feels like he owns you with it- that your his

-your his to kiss, find comfort in, talk to, cry to, fuck, make love to, breed- everything! You were his and only his

-and the way you acted with the melusines….how sweet you were to them…his dragon instincts came out insanely.

-you were so kind to them, always helping them with everything and of course with him basically being their dad they start to see you as a mom too 🥺

-one night, he just can’t help it anymore and he’ll force you down in the bed, not letting you move so he can get all of his cum in you.

“Agh! Darling, stay still…” He grunted, pressing a kiss to the love of your ear as he roughly and passionately rolled his hips into yours, his fat cock hitting all the right spots.

“Such a good wife, aren’t you, my dear?”

You couldn’t answer, too fucked out on his cock but also his cum. He’d came multiple times in the last hour and honestly you couldn’t even remember your own name.

“You’ll take it all, right? You’ll let me breed you, fill you up, make you my mate! Hah…”

“Y-yes!” You gasped, holding onto him for dear life. “Breed me…f-fill me up!”

That sentence alone is enough to make him go haywire and he moans as he cums for the nth time, his seed spurring around the edges as he continued to fuck into you.

And when you find a hydro mark embedded on your pelvis, he’ll know you’re officially his mate <3

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin fic #genshin smut #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #genshin neuvillette #wriothesely genshin #genshin wriothesley #neuvillette x reader #neuvillete smut #neuvillette x you #wriothesly x reader #wriothesly smut #wriothesely x reader #female reader #afab reader

605 notes · View notes

writing-in-glitter-pen · 6 months

Text

this garden you've grown ⋆˚✿˖° part three

a continuation of part one and part two, where an unexpected meeting with the Duke of Meropide becomes a budding romance between the two of you that the entirety of his fortress watches unfold with anticipation. But the closer the two of you grow, the closer you're brought to question whether you're deserving to be called "duchess".

♡ This addition to the series was commissioned so I send all my love and biggest thanks to my first commissioner ♡ This request was simply a dream come true!

Wriothesley x fem!reader II romance, fluff!

The sound of the lock on Wriothesley’s door clicking back into place upon your exit marks the third time today you’ve left The Duke’s office with messy hair and smudged lipstick.

You swear you were only in there to get his approval on some adjustments you’re making to the garden and ask him questions about his preferences, but you can only get so far into your schpiel before the dreamy way he eyes your lips throws you off kilter.

“My lord,—”

“—Wriothesley.”, he corrected with a stern edge in his voice that asserted his statement was not a request. The voice he normally uses with convicts and unruly subordinates, but that gets the butterflies in your stomach flitting about like they’re on a sugar rush. He’s not blind to the way it turns your cheeks pink.

“Wriothesley,” you complied with a shy smile, “I’d like to change the fertilizer we’ve been using in the garden…”

You watched as the look in his eyes grew soft and he tilted his head to gaze at you from a different angle as he stood behind his desk before you—you took notice that he always stood when you entered the room, a sign of respect you hadn’t seen him replicate for anyone else. The affection in his demeanor made your heart sputter, but you persevered.

“...the…the one we’ve been using salinizes the soil, so I’d like to try this brand from Sumeru.”, you slid the paper detailing what the soil contained and its cost over to him. He didn’t break his watch on you to look at it or its price, he simply nodded. After burning under his infatuated gaze for another handful of seconds, you averted your gaze to try to get through your next statement without him derailing you.

“...I know it’s a little more expensive than the brand we’re using but…”

“I’ll put in the order right away.”, his firm, definitive statement sent your heart skipping once more.

You tried to thank him, but your words caught in your mouth when you turned your attention off of the floor and back to him. He was staring at you hungrily again, an expression he’s neglected to fix ever since the first kiss the two of you shared in his office a couple of weeks ago. An expression that told you exactly what he was thinking about. You’d thought two long kisses today from the last two check-ins you had would be enough to satiate him, but that was clearly not the case.

With a soft, dreamy sigh, you gathered your courage to lean up and press another soft peck to his lips, he watched you the whole way up with that handsome, proud smirk on his face. He ate up any affection you’d show him with the greatest satisfaction, and found your nervousness to give it adorable.

Of course, he met your shy lips with fervor, bringing a hand up to tangle in your soft hair and encircling your waist with one of his arms to draw you closer.

Once the two of you had crossed the threshold from distant, longing looks to close physical affection, you found that the serious, dignified Duke was fiendish for touching and kissing you. He was like a man starved, craving you every minute of the day. Any type of allowance you’d give him was met with gratitude, whether it be capturing your lips with his or something as small as holding your hand. In every case, you couldn’t be in the same room with him without him getting his hands on you. He loved the softness of your skin, the flush of your cheeks, the sound of your shaky, excited voice. It made him greedy, but he wouldn’t apologize for it.

Not only would he indulge in you while secluded in his expansive office, but also in the various nooks and crannies scattered about Meropide that he’d catch and pull you into throughout the day.

He was like a wolf, constantly hunting and circling you…but you found it exciting. To be something desired so vitally by him that he felt the need to seek you out sent thrilled shivers up your spine and had you looking over your shoulders in anticipation every so often while tending to your garden throughout the day.

You giggle to yourself as you remember the feeling, walking down the hall while fixing your hair and waving shyly at staff you happened to pass by on your way out with The Duke’s approval of your new fertilizer.

Your love affair was Meropide’s biggest “not-so-secret” secret—giving the fortress’s gossip industry a delicious meal to savor and share.

Speculators would discuss a possible marriage proposal in the works; the women of the fortress swooned over what he might say to you, how and where he may do it…

Would he spring the question on you in the middle of your garden? No, they wouldn’t have that—a proposal for the beautiful relationship the two of you share must be equally if not more beautiful! Maybe he’d take you to a destination? They’d chat about what areas of Fontaine looked best during this time of year, or ask the outlanders about the prettiest harbors and havens of their homelands. The Duke’s closest subordinates were tasked by the nosy citizens with delivering pamphlets of travel guides, classy event decorations, jewelers and any other inspirations for a proposal to his desk, hoping he’d catch the hint and just make you their duchess already! You were so endlessly caring and kind to them, so crucial to the lifeblood of the fortress, they couldn’t risk their Duke letting you get away. Beyond that, they were tired of watching you labor away in the dirt wearing your common clothes and aspired to see you strut down their halls adorned in his noble colors! Archons knew you deserved it.

Many of the older ladies of the fortress also mused about a possible heir to the duchy in the making and if the two of you were already in the process of creating one. They giggled and blushed at the thought, peeking at you from around corners to see if you’d gained any weight in your belly, asking you if you’d been feeling sick recently or offering you certain “aids” such as ginseng tea—all to your great confusion. You appreciated their doting, but you couldn’t imagine what for!

And special deliveries of figs and oysters to Wriothesley’s office certainly had him raising an eyebrow.

They even made a list of baby names in preparation for the announcement they were praying for, secretly polling the Meropide residents on which name they liked best. Meropide’s citizens took the decision very seriously and some even formed election parties in favor of a specific name. You’d wonder why you were overhearing so much bickering over matters so small as the distinction between “Maximus” and “Maxwell” as you walked about the fortress. Why ever would a discussion of a name get someone so heated? Little did you know, this was their future Duke or Duchess they were fighting over—the heir would have to have a name befitting their title! (like it was their decision and not yours and Wriothesley’s. And there wasn’t even a baby or discussion of a baby between you two to begin with!)

“Caspian” and “Tallulah” won the popular vote.

While the whole of Meropide was planning your proposal, wedding, and design for your baby’s nursery, you and Wriothesley were still in an unspoken period of stasis.

Neither of you had blatantly confessed your feelings to the other; the both of you just wordlessly moved forward in tandem, like the big step of physical affection you took together wasn’t a step at all—it was just the natural course you were to walk together. This left you to only assume the intentions of the other. You unfortunately believed you were most likely just a passing entanglement for him; he was a Duke after all, his serious hunt for a partner would no doubt be among the rest of the nobility. You were just a commoner, a new citizen of his fortress, that’s all.

He, like the rest of Meropide, believed you were his future wife, and acted accordingly.

Although you tried not to get your hopes up, the things he would whisper to you while you were in his arms would have your fluttering heart wishing and pleading for something more…

“You smell like heaven, my lady.”, his voice would rumble, his nose against your temple as he pressed soft kisses to your hair. “Just like your lavender. I wish I could keep you by my side at night, I’d sleep so well. But it’s better that I don’t, otherwise, I’d have to keep you there—I could never rest without you again.”

He’d hold your face gingerly in between his hands and brush his thumbs across your cheeks in awe, saying, “If you told me you were a doll come to life, I would believe you.”, then press a soft kiss to your nose, “you’re too perfect to be real.”.

You especially felt like something more than just a bit of fun to him when he’d had a bad day at work and would ask for you alone, to slip his arms around your torso and hold you desperately close; like he lived off of you, like you held him together. You’d let him hold you like that for as long as he needed, sometimes even hours.

But you didn’t want to get ahead of yourself, because if you were to get your heart broken by Wriothesley, you’d never ever recover. You’d made such a life for yourself here; you loved the garden you kept down here, you loved the citizens of Meropide and were devoted to making sure they’re fed nutritious and lively meals…and you loved Wriothesley. You loved him more than you thought it was possible to love another person. You wanted to stay by his side, stay here in Meropide, for the rest of your life. But if you were to confess and be rejected by him, the humiliation and grief would be unbearable. You’d have to leave, move back to the city in the overworld, abandon your home, all you’ve worked for, and all you loved. So you were content to remain a wordless association with The Duke; you’d take what he’d give you and ask for nothing more….

…If only you knew that he’d give you the world—you were his, and he cherished you like the most precious pearl the ocean has ever and could ever make.

He thought he’d made that painfully clear, but shy little thing you were, you needed to hear it.

Which is why it caught you so off guard when, in the middle of you watering a new section of the garden you’d prepared to experiment with legumes, Wriothesley had snuck up behind you and slipped your free hand into his, interlacing your fingers and giving you a small squeeze before springing a question you were wildly unprepared for on you.

“My lady, would you do me the honor of joining me as my date to the Epiclese ball tomorrow night?”

The way a man of such high stature would refer to you as “my lady” never failed to make you flush; it was one of those small things Wriothesley would do that made you feel like something greater than you are, like someone special to him that he put on a pedestal—a place above himself. But in this moment, you were less taken aback by the honorific and floored by the question.

The Epiclese ball was the grandest event in Fontaine, held at the famed opera house once a year for the Fontanian nobility—only those sitting in the highest places or holding the most important positions were invited to attend. Naturally, Wriothesley received an invitation, since he is arguably one of the most important men in the nation…but you were very far from important, let alone memorable. Not a single individual of the nobility knew who you were or your name, and they were justified in their ignorance—you were inconsequential at best, nothing at worst.

This invitation meant you’d be wrapped around Wriothesley’s arm in a place you were never meant to be in.

…would he really be proud of being seen with you?

In your shock, you’d stared at Wriothesley with wide eyes and parted lips for too long of a moment. He’d find this expression quite cute if it didn’t make him nervous that he caused you some form of discomfort.

“...I don’t have anything to wear.”, was all your jarred mind could come up with.

His concerned expression melted away into his charming grin once again, making your heart flutter and temporarily forget what you were so anxious about.

“I’ll prepare something for you.”, he said, a glimmer in his eye betraying the fact that he already knew what he wanted to dress you in…or that he’d already prepared it.

That excitement in his gaze broke your resolve; you couldn’t say no to him when he looked so happy at the prospect of attending with you, even if the thought made your knees want to buckle and anxiety twist in your stomach.

So you nodded, your acceptance met with a grateful kiss to your cheek.

“I’ll have it waiting in your room when you have finished with your work tomorrow. We’ll leave for the party at 9:00 pm. Alright?”, he squeezed your hand reassuringly once again, drawing a sigh from you as you took comfort in his touch.

“Alright.”

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀

The high rotunda ceilings and large, crystalline chandeliers that hung from them over the fanciful ballroom of the Opera Epiclese had you both struck with wonder and feeling incredibly small. You’d never been more out of your depth in your life. You couldn’t help but nervously shift on your feet as you and Wriothesley waited at the top of the stairs to be introduced.

You had no reason to feel intimidated, with the way you were adorned, not a single individual in the room would take you for anything less than a duchess.

When you’d entered your living quarters after finishing up in the garden earlier that day, to your surprise, several attendants and beauticians were waiting for you alongside a vanity full of products. You felt a bit silly that Wriothesley had led you to believe you’d be getting ready alone, but maybe he neglected to inform you since he predicted that you’d make a fuss about not needing so much care and resources. If you were too timid to ask for nice fertilizer, how could you accept his offer to be made-up like a queen? You wouldn't, so you supposed he’d made the right call.

Steam flowed into the room from a bath that was drawn for you in your restroom, and the most beautiful gown you’d ever been honored to be in the presence of was laid out for you on your bed. You couldn’t believe you would be wearing such a thing tonight; it was so refined, you feared that it may just slip off of you on its own for not being a worthy enough wearer.

The attendants spent hours on your look—carefully tucking and curling each strand of your hair in silver clips and coils, gingerly coating your lips and cheeks with rouge, silver glitter on your lids, shimmer on your shoulders and collarbones so they’d glow when hit by the ballroom’s lights. You had no idea how Wriothesley knew your measurements, but the dress fit like a glove—and it held onto you tight, it wasn’t going anywhere. Your gown was of his colors, a deep red velvet fabric that ran all the way from your sweetheart neckline down to splay out on the floor around you. The dress was sleeveless, but a black fur was draped over your shoulders and clipped together at your chest to hang around you and shield the majority of your exposed skin from view. The look teetered between displaying your beautiful features and keeping them obscured for only one person’s view.

When you finished being dolled up and dressed, you stood back to look at yourself in the vanity mirror.

The woman looking back at you was just as surprised as you were when you met her eyes—you’d never seen her before in your life. She was beautiful. She looked like the perfect picture of elegance and grace. You tilted your head at her, and she tilted hers back; her eyes held that same shade yours did. Her bone structure and arch of her eyebrows, length of her neck and arms, pout of her lips and angle of her nose, all the same…but she was so much better than you. It made your stomach grow heavy with envy—she was exactly the woman that deserved to be with a person of the nobility, especially one as special as Wriothesley. You were so jealous of her…

But you realized, that was you.

You would’ve cried at the sight of yourself if it weren’t for the attendants fanning your eyes and fretting about you ruining their hard work.

You were just so overcome with emotion. You looked like you belonged exactly where you wanted to be—by Wriothesley’s side. You were wearing his colors, adorned with silver pieces that matched the same shine as the buttons on his coat and handcuffs at his hip. The way you were dressed not only told the world that you were worthy to share a room with nobles, but that you belonged to a specific noble in particular; one of the most prestigious at that, and the one that claimed your heart. With one look at you, no soul in the room would doubt that you were Wriothesley’s and Wriothesley’s alone.

You tried to steady your breathing as your date took your arm in his and brought you forth to the top of the grand staircase. He noticed your panic and gave you a reassuring smile—a warm expression that greatly differed from the typical wolfish grin that made you fizzle. This one quelled the tension in your body, it made you feel safe and cared for.

It promised you that you could relax when you were with him; nothing could go wrong when Wriothesley was looking at you with that smile

As you two stood at the precipice of the herald announcing your arrival to the ballroom, he leaned in close to your ear and whispered in a quiet rumble, “I hate this part too, but I’ll enjoy it this time—I’m looking forward to hearing my name said with yours as a pair.”

The heart in your chest stuttered at the confession. You hadn’t thought about it like that; here, you felt like you were being thrown to the crocodiles, when really, you were being introduced at the side of the man you loved…

With a soft smile, you realized you were looking forward to hearing your name paired with his too. It’d give you a moment to live out a daydream where you could pretend you and Wriothesley were an actual couple.

The herald must have needed his eyes checked, because although you and Wriothesley were not married, instead of introducing the two of you as Duke Wriothesley and his date, he confidently called to the room with his full chest;

“The Duke Wriothesley and Duchess [name] of Meropide.”

You comported yourself, white knuckling your grace and taking care not to show your shock and embarrassment to the crowd although your mind was shrieking. You braced for Wriothesley to correct the herald, for the herald to make the distinction to the crowd that you and him were, in fact, not together…but the humiliation never came.

Wriothesley just held you closer with the most satisfied smirk on his lips as he led you down the steps into the ballroom, taking care to look back at you and make sure you were holding your head high.

It was hard not to when he looked at you like you were the brightest star in the sky.

The hall was filled with hushed whispers and gossip regarding the two of you, the nobles squabbling about not having known that the duke had gotten married and why they hadn’t been invited to such an event. As you walked by, you caught whispers of your name—whispers you’d prepared yourself to hear beforehand about not being fit to stand next to Wriothesley…but instead, you heard oohs and ahhs about how beautiful you were, how you and The Duke looked like a perfect match, how they wanted their husbands to look at them the way he looked at you.

That last comment made you snap back to reality and turn to face Wriothesley again, only to be met with his warm, amorous eyes drawing over every inch of you as if he was committing your image to memory. He looked enthralled by you—like the entirety of this ball and all of its regalia could fall away and he would still be more than satisfied with having you alone. Nothing else mattered to him.

The way your cheeks painted with rouge grew even pinker when you met his gaze made him chuckle. He couldn’t understand what still had you so shy around him. He certainly wasn’t shy around you anymore, but still, he found it adorable. He leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips; not a scandalous one shared between lovers at an otherwise dignified banquet…but a respectable, loving one between a husband and wife. The way it felt to be treated so dearly to him, especially shamelessly in a place where he needed to maintain heirs, made you feel like you weren’t just some moment in Wriothesley’s life, you were forever.

When he pulled away, his heart swelled at the expression on your face; soft and puppy eyed. His signature wolfish grin shone back at you.

“What did I do to earn such a look, fair lady?”, he hummed in amusement, standing so close that you were almost wrapped within his long coat alongside him, so he could lean over and listen to you speak close to his ear.

“...are you going to tell them we aren’t married…?”, you asked, timidly.

“I’m more inclined to tell them we happened to have forgotten our wedding bands on our bedside table.”

His comment sent those butterflies in your stomach that adored him so much fluttering again, but you pouted at him impatiently.

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”, he countered with ease, bringing your left hand up to his face to ghost his lips over your ring finger. “If you’re worried about the title, don’t be. I wouldn’t want anyone else to have it.”

Your heart felt like it was just one more word away from rupturing. You’d spent so long bottling up your hopes, so long reminding yourself that you were not enough…to be given exactly what you’d been dreaming about since the day Wriothesley had entered your garden would certainly make you burst.

“...why not?”

He smiled down at you like the answer was obvious.

“Because the title is for the woman I love. So it is yours.”

You really did nearly explode, your knees buckling as your breath caught in your lungs. He pulled you flush up against him to steady you, laughing lightly at your reaction. You fussed too much, but he adored that about you; he just hoped that as you settled into your title, you’d allow yourself to be more demanding with what you deserve.

Until then, he’d shower you with all of the assurances you needed.

“Do you need to hear it again? I love you, [name]. The love I have for you was made by you—you sewed it within me with your own hands; it is a feeling no other has raised in me nor will be able to replicate because it is yours alone. You claimed my heart like you’d claimed that barren patch of land I met you in and grew love from it like you did the lavender that helps me rest at night.”

He was relentless with his musings, tilting your chin up with his thumb and forefinger to make sure you were accepting every word he was giving you. The glitter of your eyes on him promised him that.

“Then I brought you home, and you continued to grow your love in my fortress and cared for my people hundreds of leagues under the sea. They love you, I love you, and I would never let another dig their hands into the soil you cultivated, no matter who they are or how noble their blood. Both Meropide and I have accepted you as ours, so the place of duchess is rightfully yours.”

Now, you really were going to cry. You could hear the shrieks of anguish from the many attendants who'd doting on your makeup all afternoon. Wriothesley only chuckled and fetched his handkerchief, using his hold on your chin to tilt your face so he could dab at your tears before they smudged your mascara.

You sniffled and spoke through your shaky breaths, "I love you and Meropide more than I've ever loved anything else. I'd be honored to be your duchess."

Without another word, you leaned up your teary face to press an ardent kiss to his lips---like you were sealing a contract between the two of you.

You'd be his, and he, his fortress, and the entirety of his duchy would be yours in return.

Yours to continue to bless with life, yours to care for and maintain, and yours to bring to blossom full of love---he'd watch and admire you every step of the way.

And you'd both be confidently fibbing to the inquiring other guests tonight that you had indeed left your wedding bands at home.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin wriothesley #wriothesley fluff #wriothesley genshin #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x fem reader #wriothesley x you #genshin x reader fluff #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #wriothesley imagines

498 notes · View notes

sarahisslytherin · 3 months

Text

𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐌 || 𝐁.𝐁. (PART IV)

summary: you’ve been receiving love letters from a secret admirer and you’re desperate to reveal his identity. contains: benedict being fucking adorable, fluff n’ angst! a/n: fourth and final part of this multi-chapter fic. PART I, PART II, PART III i've had such a blast writing this series, thank you all for your support and lovely words! now pull up the vitamin string quartet version of "love story" and enjoy!

Your heel dug into the gravel of the Bridgertons’ drive as you exited the carriage with grace. You gently raised your gown just centimeters off the ground as you walked towards the house, your mother and father following a fair distance behind you. You hadn’t stepped inside yet but your heart was already in your throat. You admired the front garden as you stepped up the marble stairs. Roses clung to the fences and wrapped themselves around the banisters decoratively. You took a deep breath. No matter what happens tonight, you told yourself, you will be alright.

The halls were lined with lords and ladies, dukes and duchesses of varying family names, old as the land itself. The sound of a string quartet wafted through the air, indiscernible over the chatter of civil conversation. You followed the dulcet tones, seamlessly weaving your way through the home you had come to know so well. You turned a corner and were met with an array of couples mid-dance, bodies moving with such effortless grace it was a pleasure to just stand by and watch from the sidelines. You surveyed the room, inspecting each man with almost analytical precision. One of them was your mystery man.

“There you are.” sighed Benedict as he appeared at your side. “I’ve been looking for you.”

You chanced a look at him, and you wished you hadn’t. He was gorgeous; his hair shone beneath the warm glow of the chandelier, his eyes shimmered like moonlight bouncing off water. Mostly it was his smile (that shy, boyish smile) that set off a chain of dominoes within you, resulting in a nervous pang in your stomach.

“Have you?” you asked, keeping your response brief so as to mask the waver in your voice.

“Indeed I have.” he smirked, but his good humor quickly faded as his face took on a more solemn look. “I wish to apologize for the things I said when I saw you last. I was a fool, I still am.”

“Ben-” you began to protest, but were quickly cut off.

“No, really!” He went on, his cheeks taking on a rosy shade. “You were right in every respect. And marriage doesn’t have to be the way I described. You know I have an inclination for hyperbole. Anyway, please don’t hate me. I couldn’t bear-”

“Benedict.” you said sternly. “You’re rambling.” You took his now trembling gloved hands in your own and met his gaze.

“I just wish you could forgive me.” he whispered for only you to hear.

“My dear Benedict.” you sighed, a sweet smile curling at the corner of your lips. “I forgave you the minute I left. I hate to admit this to you, but you should know I never have been able to stay cross with you for too long.” Now it was he who smiled, a beam so bright it alone could have lit up the ballroom.

“Well, then.” Benedict began. “There’s no use of a lovely lady coming to a ball just to stand around in corners, is there?” And with that, he gently led you onto the dance floor.

You fell into a rhythm that came surprisingly easy to you, as if you were exactly where you were meant to be. The strings filled the room with jovial, romantic music, lifting the spirits of anyone who would listen. It was impossible not to dance, not to feel as if you were floating. Your hand fit in Benedict’s like they were made for the sole purpose of intertwining. And when your eyes met, sparks flew, visible to no one but the two of you.

To anyone else, it might seem that the two of you were in love. What a silly thought. Though, you couldn’t help but feel that such an assumption might have some truth to it. You most definitely behaved in the childish, playful way lovers do. You confided in him without a shadow of a doubt. And he did always manage to send a certain prickle of excitement down your spine, not unlike the spark of an electric current. Good God!

You were in love with Benedict Bridgerton.

The song came to an end, and you curtsied before Benedict, while he bowed. You were sure he was about to request another dance but you were left wondering when Daphne tugged on your sleeve. “Where have you been?” she squealed delightedly. “Come, mingle!” You laughed, mostly from the nerves, as you shot Benedict one last glance over the shoulder before being whisked away.

You had made decent conversation and exchanged pleasantries with members of the ton for long enough. You were beginning to grow restless, your foot tapping mindlessly against the hard floor. You needed to find Benedict. You excused yourself sheepishly, but you had no time to give that any thought. You simply turned on your heel and began scouring through every room in search of Benedict.

You checked the parlor, the staircase, even the room where Benedict could usually be found painting or writing. He was nowhere to be found. Just when you were on the verge of abandoning hope, you thought to look in one last place.

The intoxicating scent of roses and lilacs overcame your senses as you stepped out into the garden. The lights from within the house bled out onto the patio, casting everything and everyone in it in a golden hue. There he stood, hands clasping each other tightly behind his back, standing straight as a pencil. He seemed to be deep in thought, since he was startled at your timid call. “Benedict?” He turned, his brows furrowed. “Tell me, dear.”

“I need to tell you something.” you began. “I have a bit of confession to-

“So do I.” he said, his eyes lowering to the neatly kept grass. “And I think I should go first.”

“What would make you think th-”

“It’s me!” he blurted out, not able to contain himself a second longer. “It’s always been me! Those letters, your admirer. Surely you must have known, somewhere deep in your soul, that it has always been me. Never before have I felt this way for anyone, my dear. Every moment I spend in your presence, it gives me such immense joy that I cannot help but carry it with me wherever I go. If you would have me, Lord, if you would have me- I should be the happiest man who ever lived, I swear it. I love you! Even when you are cross with me and I with you I will always love you with an unrelenting passion. Even if you should reject me, I will never stop loving you, for I have no choice in the matter. Surely there must be worse fates and than to love one so unconditionally.”

You stood before him, mouth slightly agape, eyes wide as plates and welling with tears. You tried to speak but couldn’t. So many thoughts rushed to your mind, memories of your many years as friends, every occasion where you felt what he described. There were too many to count. So instead of speaking, you simply took a step forward, pulled him in by his tie and pressed your lips to his in a kiss so passionate you knew right then it would become the subject of many sonnets and paintings from Benedict’s part. You felt as if all the golden light which bathed the garden was now wrapped around your heart.

“I wish this moment could last forever.” you said, a joyful tear streaming down your cheek.

Benedict laughed like a shy schoolboy as he wrapped his arms around you like a man starved and pulled you impossibly close. “Well, my love.” he beamed. “Forever has just begun.”

tagging: @velvetcloxds @oweninadaydream @holdthegirrrl @i-padfootblack-things @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @enchantedbytomandhenry @dd122004dd @marvel-r5 @marimarvelfan

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton angst #bridgerton

285 notes · View notes

camillasgirl · 1 year

Photo

Camilla’s 2007 ♥

The Prince of Wales and The Duchess of Cornwall visit Dubai's historical district of Bastakiah as well as English Speaking School, Dubai, 28.02.2007

#king charles lll #queen camilla #milla2007 #duke and duchess of adorable #king and queen of adorable #duchess of cornwall #Prince Charles

37 notes · View notes

myprinceandprincessofwalesblog · 2 years

Photo

#Princess Charlotte #Prince George #duke and duchess of cambridge #William and George are so cute together #And Charlotte and Catherine are equally adorable

8 notes · View notes

floralcyanide · 20 days

Text

ɪ, ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ ― ᴘᴀᴜʟ ᴀᴛʀᴇɪᴅᴇs

paul atreides x fem!reader (nsfw)

You enjoy your wedding night with Paul in a daring way.

✣ warnings: smut, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, female anatomy described, knife play, fingering, mutual orgasm, aged-up paul, post-wedding sex

✣ word count: 1.2k

✣ author’s note: a surprise wip! it was even a surprise to me lol. I watched Dune/ Dune 2 a month ago but somehow just got the inspiration to write for Paul. I need to read the series, the size of the books intimidated me in middle school so I never read them lol ): anyway, I hope yall enjoy!

masterlist | divider credit: @cafekitsune

based on this song | i like the devil - purity ring

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

You’re standing in the mirror, admiring the off-white gown that flows behind you in a trail. It’s adorned in gold and pearl and fits you flawlessly. It’s the first moment of quiet you’ve had all day and your first time alone since this morning. It’s your wedding evening, and you’re now married to Duke Paul Atreides. This meant you’re the new Duchess of Caladan, a title that rolls off your tongue with satisfaction. Nothing seemed finer than being the leader of your people with your lover by your side. You are too busy in your thoughts and don’t notice Paul entering the suite and walking up behind you. He wraps his arms around you, resting his head on top of yours.

“What’s on your mind, my darling bride?”

“Nothing,” you smile, “It’s nice to hear that, though. Me being your bride.”

The sun is setting behind the cliffs of Caladan, showering the large bedroom in its golden glow through the windows of the Castle. The light falls onto Paul, his eyelashes casting shadows on his cheekbones. He looks at you with adoration through the reflection of the mirror. The same adoration he’s always looked at you with, but this time, his eyes are darker with a storm of desire. It’s the perfect evening to explore those desires, after all. Paul pulls away from you, beginning to unbutton his ceremonial wear, careful with the ancient fabric. You turn to help him with it, easing it off his shoulders. Paul doesn’t bother changing into something comfortable, knowing it won’t be on for long. He guides your dress down your arms and body, admiring the lace covering your most intimate parts. Paul takes your hand, kissing the top of it as he gets down on his knees before you. He pulls off your intricate shoes, the very ones that have been bothering your feet since this morning. You sigh in relief. Paul’s hand grasps your ankle as he brings it to his lips, kissing up the side of your calf as he makes his way to your thighs. He kisses your warm skin as he nears your clothed core. You hold your breath in anticipation, but before Paul reaches the desired destination, he removes his lips.

“Come with me, my love,” Paul moves to lay on the large bed, beckoning you to follow him.

“I’ve been waiting for this all day,” you sigh, letting yourself relax into the cushy pillows.

“Don’t go sleeping on me yet,” Paul chuckles, hovering over you before pressing his lips to yours.

You grab his face, letting your hands slide through his mess of curls. He deepens the kiss before traveling to your neck, gently pecking your sensitive skin. Paul allows you to arch your back so he can unclasp and remove your bra. He then works your lacy garments down your legs and off your ankles. You’re entirely bare before him now, and this time around, it’s different. You belong to each other wholly now and can share intimacy knowing you’re forever bound.

“Beautiful,” Paul whispers, letting his hands roam your body, “Can I try something?”

“Depends,” you bite your lip, “Will I like it?”

“Oh,” Paul scoffs, “You’ll love it. I know how you are, always wanting to try new and risky things.”

You quirk an eyebrow, “Risky?”

Paul leans over to the bedside table and retrieves a small dagger, one that had been gifted to him for your wedding. He hesitantly brings it to your throat, pressing the flat of the blade to your pulse.

“How about this, hmm?” Paul asks, searching your eyes for any indication of fear, but finds excitement instead, “You like it, my darling?”

“Yes,” you exhale, letting yourself melt into the bed despite the weapon at your throat. You fully trust Paul.

“Good,” he smiles, allowing one of his hands to slap your cunt, sending a surge of electricity through you as you yelp from the sudden movement.

Paul circles your clit with a slow finger, biting his lip as your mouth gapes open in a silent cry. You buck your hips as you grow wet from the feeling of a dagger to your neck and Paul’s sensual touching. He gathers your wetness with his other finger before slipping it inside you, curling it immediately to stretch you out. He presses his thumb to your bundle of nerves as he pumps his middle finger in and out. Paul tosses one of your legs over his shoulder to get a better angle, adding another finger. He’s on his knees, firmly planted on either side of your legs, his lean body still hovering over you. You slide your hands over his torso before teasing the waistband of his underwear, which is growing a little tight. Paul pauses his movements to tear off the remaining clothing before he decides to lay on his stomach momentarily to get a taste of you. He licks a fat stripe up your weeping slit, suckling your clit to elicit a moan from you before resuming his previous position above you. Paul pumps himself a few times before gliding his tip along your entrance, gathering your arousal before slowly pushing in.

“Paul,” you moan, throwing your head back as Paul presses the sharper edge of the dagger to your pulse point.

Your heart roars in your ears at the adrenaline racing through your veins. One wrong move is all it takes. And it excites you. Paul finds himself fully sheathed inside you, catching his breath. You urge him to move, and he pulls himself almost entirely out of you before guiding himself back in. He picks up a rhythm, pounding into you as he holds the blade to your neck, his green eyes almost black now. You aren’t shy about how loud you are as Paul hits your g spot dead-on, and you try your best to be still when he does so the dagger doesn’t dig into your skin. Its sole purpose is to keep you under Paul’s control; you love every minute of it. Paul is gripping your hip with his other hand, helping you fuck yourself onto his length at the same time he’s thrusting into you. Paul moves the dagger down your chest to tease around the circumference of your breasts. You feel the familiar knot in your stomach tightening, and you warn Paul by wrapping your legs around his waist. He knows to pick up his pace when you do this. He completely discards the dagger beside you on the duvet, grabbing your hips with both hands as he slams into you, his grunts and moans growing louder. You can feel your arousal seeping out of you and surging around Paul’s cock, the sound of it mixing with the slapping of skin.

“You’re so beautiful, my love. Will you cum for me?” Paul digs his fingernails into your hips, feeling himself growing closer to his orgasm.

“Yes,” you gasp, watching him move in and out of you, “I wanna cum for you, Paul.”

“Then let go, doll,” Paul coerces, his hair falling in his face.

You let your orgasm wash over you in a hot wave, your body going limp as Paul loses himself in the way your cunt clenches around him with a vice. His orgasm follows yours soon after, his cum filling you up. Your chest is heaving as Paul pulls out of you slowly before falling onto the bed next to you. He draws you into his chest, moving your hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear.

“So beautiful,” Paul whispers, and you smile before carefully turning to face him.

You stroke his cheek, “I’m so glad to be married to you.”

“And I to you,” Paul kisses your palm.

#paul atreides #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides x reader smut #paul atreides smut #dune #dune part two #dune movie #paul atreides x you #paul atreides x you smut #paul atreides x y/n #paul atreides fanfiction #paul atreides fanfic #paul atreides fic #dune fanfiction #dune fanfic #floralcyanide writes

208 notes · View notes

world-of-wales · 28 days

Text

HAPPY 9TH BIRTHDAY TO THE SWEETEST AND SASSIEST QUEEN, HRH PRINCESS CHARLOTTE ELIZABETH DIANA OF WALES (B. 2 MAY 2015) ♡

On 2 May 2015, Princess Charlotte was born to Catherine and William, then known as Duke and Duchess of Cambridge in St Mary's Hospital, London, at 8.34 BST weighing 8 pounds and 3 ounces. She was born during the reign of her paternal great-grandmother Elizabeth II is the second child and only daughter of Will & Cat. The little princess' name was announced on 4 May as Charlotte Elizabeth Diana. Charlotte is the feminine version of her paternal grandfather's name - Charles & also her aunt Pippa's middle name. Elizabeth honours her great-grandmother, Queen Elizabeth, and is also the middle name of her grandmother Carole and her mum Catherine. Diana is in honour of her late paternal grandmother, Princess Diana. Lottie was nine weeks old when she was christened by the archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby, on 5 July, at St Mary Magdalene Church in Sandringham. She wore the handmade replica of the Royal Christening Robe, and the Lily Font and water from the River Jordan were used during the baptism. Charlotte spent the first two years of her life at Anmer Hall in Norfolk, before relocating to Kensington Palace in 2017. She started at Willcocks Nursery School in 2018 and later joined her brother George at Thomas's School in Battersea in 2019. In 2022, Lottie and her family relocated to Adelaide Cottage in Windsor, after which she started at Lambrook School with her siblings. Born as a Princess of Cambridge, she became HRH Princess Charlotte of Wales after her grandfather conferred her parents with the titles of the Prince and Princess of Wales. Charlotte who is currently third in line to the throne, made history as the first British princess to outrank a brother in the line of succession. She made her official royal debut at the Trooping of Colour in 2016 and since then has accompanied her parents and brothers for engagements and events. Charlotte joined her parents on official tours to Canada, Germany, and Poland. Taking part in two royal weddings, Lottie has also been a part of her great-grandmother's Platinum Jubilee celebrations in 2022 and her grandfather's coronation in 2023. Charlotte is a nature pixie, and is a keen rugby and tennis player. She loves gymnastics & acrobatics and does amazing cartwheels & handstands. She adores dancing, especially Tap & Ballet and has a passion for theater, putting on shows for her family at home. Lottie loves Pizza and Olives (that's a queen, right there). She's an excellent footballer, which her father was sure to mention to the Lionesses, who she is a big fan of during a visit.

152 notes · View notes

pucksandpower · 1 year

Text

Lewis Hamilton x royal!Reader - Social Media AU (Part II)

This was highly requested so here it is!

Read Part I

dailymail

Liked by f1wagupdates, royalnews, and 58,263 others

dailymail The new Duke and Duchess of Clarence get cosy while enjoying the sun on a yacht off the Amalfi Coast

View all 475 comments

lewisdefender stalking a couple on their honeymoon? how classy

royallybored leave them alone! they deserve one week without you shoving cameras in their faces

kartingkween public 👏 figures 👏 are 👏 entitled 👏 to 👏 privacy 👏 and 👏 respect 👏 too 👏

f1wagupdates

Liked by hamilfan44, loyallylewis, and 96,725 others

f1wagupdates like mother, like daughter. her royal highness the duchess of clarence suited up and joined her husband on the track earlier this weekend thirty years after princess diana showed the world her fascination with racing

View all 826 comments

royallyracing i just know that diana is so proud of y/n

hamilfan44 and she would’ve loved lewis so much 🥺

gridgirlie who’s cutting onions?

royalwatcher

Liked by f1wagupdates, royalfashion, and 89,461 others

royalwatcher The Duke and Duchess of Clarence are glowing in white as they step out to attend the Pride of Britain awards

View all 658 comments

f1wagupdates her bump is adorable 😭

royalfashion most fashionable couple around bar none

paddockstyle they never disappoint!

clarenceroyal

Liked by mercedesamgf1, kensingtonroyal, and 4,967,828 others

clarenceroyal We are pleased to announce that Their Royal Highnesses The Duke and Duchess of Clarence welcomed their firstborn child in the early afternoon on July 7th, 2024. Their Royal Highnesses' son weighs 7lbs. 6oz.

The Duchess and baby are both healthy and well, and the couple thank members of the public for their shared excitement and support during this very special time in their lives.

More details will be shared in the forthcoming days.

View all 8,451 comments

mercedesamgf1 our hearts are full 🖤 sending so much love to the three of you (and roscoe)

f1wagupdates i knew it! the timing made sense when mercedes announced that lewis would not be racing at silverstone

totosheadset i was so worried at first but omg this is wonderful news

keepingupwiththeclarences i don’t know if the world is ready for the pure power of a mini combination of y/n and lewis

clarenceroyal

Liked by f1, keepingupwiththeclarences, and 5,039,284 others

clarenceroyal “The arrival of our son changed our lives wholly and irrevocably. We have never experienced joy quite as all-consuming as that brought on by parenthood. We thank you for your support and kindness during this time of inexplicable happiness.” - Y/N and Lewis

The Duke and Duchess of Clarence have released three candid photos of their growing family taken by the new parents.

View all 9,138 comments

f1 we’ll save a seat for him in around 18 years

mercedesamgf1 sounds good to us!

serenawilliams lovelies 😍

susie_wolff so precious ❤️ a tiny race suit is on its way to you because it’s never too early to start following in his dad’s footsteps

hamilfan44 roscoe is already the best big brother

2K notes · View notes

comfortless · 4 months

Note

what if König does see his knight being more ladylike? or maybe even in a dress? sorry they’re just so cute i love this au lol

you are never getting her into a gown… not ever.

except at a special event (:..?

There’s a summons for König and the lady knight to attend a ball. At the castle, no less. The sheet of parchment dents weighty in her hand as she tugs it free from the message board at the center of town— a list of names, hers and König’s included; quite high, too, above even dukes and duchesses from foreign kingdoms and a wonderful knight who had braved an attempted siege and won the King victory.

It makes no sense… they’re essentially hired thieves, roaming through caverns of filth filled with the dead, stealing what’s never been their own and never will belong to them for profit. There’s no honor in their work, despite the way she puffs her chest in pride and so often declares that one of these expeditions will earn her a seat at the royal table.

Still… they had retrieved that object for the Queen, and it seemed the materialistic royalty deemed that well and good enough to consider them worthy.

König is unperturbed— he’s never been one for these formal affairs, dressing up in a tight fitting suit of ruffled fabric, chest adorned with a shimmering brooch and his blade kept tucked away far out of reach. His knight on the other hand… Her face is practically glowing, he’s never seen her smile so wide or so sweetly.

Of course… she doesn’t have some silky gown to her name, only cold steel and endless straps… not even a proper corset. König can’t help but notice her pout when they begin to prepare. Though he thinks she’s pretty, perfect even as battle-worn she is, it’s clear she wants to be more so as she stares longingly out of the window of the inn at all of the beautiful ladies riding on horseback to approach the castle gates, their gowns each as intricate and immaculate as the braids and curls and lengths of their hair.

He doesn’t get it- he’ll just go in his normal clothes, but like any proper suitor would do… he buys her a gown from the tailor a few buildings past the inn. The most expensive one he can get his paws on with the hoard of gold they collected from their last adventure. (Who knew slaying a few reanimated skeletons to give a cursed femur and jaw bone to an old witch could count as a job?!)

The dress is certainly… tailored to his preferences: it’s a lacy thing, dyed a shimmering bluish gray, creamy lace trims along the cuffs and hems, the collar dipping down into a ‘v’ to properly frame her tits. He didn’t expect it to be any lovelier than what his imagination supplies when she does put it on, and yet he finds himself utterly stifled by the sight.

He’s seen her nude, pawed at and groped her hundreds of times, but as she stands before him shyly lifting the dress at her hips and glancing at the wall, the floor, anywhere except from directly at him… his pulse begins to race. Of course, he picks her up and buries his face against her neck, whispering about how pretty she is, how much he adores every new side of her, and promptly ruins it by detailing how he would like to tug her laces loose with his teeth later in the evening after the dancing is all over. She shoves him away, hissing like a startled kitten but he’s certain she casts him a little smirk the moment that he does relax his grip.

The ball is no less extravagant than she had expected. Food and luxury wine adorn every table: cheeses, fresh baked bread, smoked meats and pies, fruit of many kinds, and the wine all sweet and bitter and so very unlike the thick mead that burns as it goes down that they’re accustomed to. The dresses, the elaborate dances, the beautiful sounds of music feathering through the air- all of it. She even gets to drink from a goblet made of silver, and her eyes light up when a servant fills it to the brim.

König despises it all.

He tucks himself away, flooding himself with food and the few gilded pitchers of actual ale he’s managed to threaten a servant into retrieving. He notices the eyes on her always, as she dances with the other ladies and smiles adoringly over at him each time their eyes meet. Her grace translates well here from battle, each step taken with some extracted precision that she’s learned from flailing her blade around in the darkness… her partners giggle against her ear as they curl their arms around her, many adrift to either side waiting for a turn.

It’s only when a man does approach his lady knight that König’s had enough. She’s tipsy and far too cute, stands out like pure treasure amongst this adoring flock, and the bastard’s eyes are on her breasts when he asks her to dance. The other man is yanked back by his scruff and tossed to the marble floor, eliciting startled gasps and even… some sweet sighs from the women surrounding as they fawn over how romantic it must be that a brute like him wouldn’t allow another man near her.

His knight only smiles at him when he leads her away, out of the grand hall and down the corridors of the castle until they find themselves before a window that seems to overlook the entire kingdom. The music still plays, the voices still chatter, but they’re all muffled and subdued someplace far away… and König only feels the world seem to come to a grinding halt when she asks him to dance with her here.

He doesn’t have the same tact or skill as the others when he moves: swaying her in a grip like iron ‘round her waist, dipping with her when her back arcs that almost leaves his face flush with her chest. It’s clumsy at best, far less flowery and sweet than when she danced with the other women, but he tries his best to not entirely ruin her night— unaware that she’s far too drunken and giddy to care. She wouldn’t have batted an eye if he had snapped that man’s neck, if only he rewarded her patience with a dance like this.

They meld together, a perfect fit when she stands on his boots and drapes her arms around his neck to press her chin to his chest. The frolic comes to a quiet end as they whisper back and forth about what happens next, after tonight. When the sun rises and they’re back on their feet… He swears to her that they’ll buy a horse, subtly hints that the offer to settle will always be present and she only shushes him with a kiss, one that she laughs into as she tastes the ale on his tongue.

Those strings are, in fact, loosened by his teeth as she lies on their shared bed with him later into the evening. He traces every dip and curve of her body through the silk as he works away at relieving her of the gown, then the corset with slow, precise movements and tugs. She laughs again when he hisses praises from behind her, licks and nibbles a hot path along her skin, rests his head against the smooth flesh of her back when the corset finally lays to either side of her.

His fingertips graze from the back of her neck, to her shoulder, further along the middle of her back before he stops himself. Despite the near constant ache, this isn’t how or where he wants this done: in some rundown inn outside of the castle, her veins flooded with red wine. Instead, he only pulls her close in a cuddle, massages at her tits as she thanks him for accompanying her, for dancing with her despite his gait being more like a newborn foal than a proper stallion.

And when the moon finally reaches a peak in the night sky, her breathing slow and soft while she rests her head against his chest, he kisses the top of her head and pulls her in closer. Tells her that he likes either side of her, knight or lady it mattered not, so long as she remains at his side like this.

She nods to her own damnation, contentedly swearing her oath to him with one word, “Forever.” It comes in a soft murmur, eyelids already fluttering as he squishes her closer against him.

#dungeoneer!könig #happy valentine’s day have some silly fluff ^^

155 notes · View notes