dendroseelie

[dendroseelie]

it’s not often you have him like this - all soft and warm, tangled in your sheets. frankly, you think he looks right like he belongs, like he’s where he’s meant to be - within the sanctuary of your room, looking utterly peaceful in his sleep.

the early morning sun of fontaine is still gentle as it filters into your room in glittering beams. wriothesley’s face, usually all stern and domineering, now looks relaxed, free of worries. this is not a sight that many see on the duke of the fortress, a sight not all are privileged to. you revel in the fact that only you get to have him like this - he’s all yours.

you watch him carefully, eyes trailing his features that you’ve memorised over and over again on mornings such as this one. your fingers follow the ghost of your gaze, touch feather-light as you caress the slope of his nose, the apple of his cheeks, the curve of his jaw and the plush of his lips.

his hand shoots to grab your wrist, and you’re startled. you pout, your tranquil admiration of beauty being disrupted.

“enjoying yourself, darling?” his voice is deeper than normal, sleep laced in his words.

you allow yourself a mirthful smile as wrio leads your confined hand to his lips. he presses the softest of kisses to the inside of your wrist, then your palm. “i was,”you say,”before i was rudely interrupted.”

wrio’s eyes sparkle up, amusement flickering to life. “ah, how blasphemous of me to interrupt your staring.”

“truly,” you continue. “i think you should grovel and beg for my forgiveness, it is only fair.”

“of course, of course,” he dons a solemn expression. “i must make up for my errs.”

“you must.”

wrio grins wolfishly and your heart stutters within your ribs. he untangles the sheets from his legs, pushes at your waist gently to have you on your back as he hovers over you. his wide palm finds a rhythm, brushing up and down the plush sides of your waist while he holds up his weight with the other.

“though you're not completely out of fault.”

you hum inquisitively, hands looping behind his neck, fingers quickly finding their way to the hair at his nape. “what'd i do, duke?”

“waking me up like that, so early…on my day off,” he leans down, nose trailing the curve of your neck. “quite incriminating don't you think?”

his soft touch and huffs of breath alike leave yours a little stuttering. like a puppy, you think to yourself as he noses around and the vision of this idea brings a giggle out of you.

“and now you're laughing at me,” he complains. “you're not helping your case.”

that makes you laugh brighter. wrio feels warmth bloom within his chest at the sight. having you under him, hair splayed out on the pillow cover, the clement sunlight barely illuminating the room through the curtains, your laugh - that sweet, sweet sound - reaching his ears; the whole scene feels a little fuzzy around the edges, as if it's right out of a dream.

“what will you do, duke? are you going to arrest me?”

he smiles, one of his hands coming down to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers rest at your chin. “i couldn't possibly do that to my beloved. perhaps, we can just call it even.”

“perhaps,” you smile back. you pull him down to meet your lips. the kiss is slow and languid, needy in the heat of your touches. your fingernails brush against his scalp while your other hand trails down his chest. his grip is back at your waist squeezing, as the weight of his hips settle against you.

a keening whine escapes your lips and he eagerly laps up the sound. when you break apart, your lips are wet and a little swollen. wrio’s gaze seems entirely fixated on this.

“let's stay in bed for some more hours,” his voice is gravelly with desire yet…yet his eyes are still soft. and how could you deny him.

a small giggle accompanies the push of your hand. “do you think i could convince monsieur neuvillette to let me have you home more often like this?”

home. right here, with you. that's where he belongs.

[dendroseelie]

Finally, they went on a journey together.

[dendroseelie]

no thoughts. just sylus and his motorcycle

need that.

[dendroseelie]

it’s not often you have him like this - all soft and warm, tangled in your sheets. frankly, you think he looks right like he belongs, like he’s where he’s meant to be - within the sanctuary of your room, looking utterly peaceful in his sleep.

the early morning sun of fontaine is still gentle as it filters into your room in glittering beams. wriothesley’s face, usually all stern and domineering, now looks relaxed, free of worries. this is not a sight that many see on the duke of the fortress, a sight not all are privileged to. you revel in the fact that only you get to have him like this - he’s all yours.

you watch him carefully, eyes trailing his features that you’ve memorised over and over again on mornings such as this one. your fingers follow the ghost of your gaze, touch feather-light as you caress the slope of his nose, the apple of his cheeks, the curve of his jaw and the plush of his lips.

his hand shoots to grab your wrist, and you’re startled. you pout, your tranquil admiration of beauty being disrupted.

“enjoying yourself, darling?” his voice is deeper than normal, sleep laced in his words.

you allow yourself a mirthful smile as wrio leads your confined hand to his lips. he presses the softest of kisses to the inside of your wrist, then your palm. “i was,”you say,”before i was rudely interrupted.”

wrio’s eyes sparkle up, amusement flickering to life. “ah, how blasphemous of me to interrupt your staring.”

“truly,” you continue. “i think you should grovel and beg for my forgiveness, it is only fair.”

“of course, of course,” he dons a solemn expression. “i must make up for my errs.”

“you must.”

wrio grins wolfishly and your heart stutters within your ribs. he untangles the sheets from his legs, pushes at your waist gently to have you on your back as he hovers over you. his wide palm finds a rhythm, brushing up and down the plush sides of your waist while he holds up his weight with the other.

“though you're not completely out of fault.”

you hum inquisitively, hands looping behind his neck, fingers quickly finding their way to the hair at his nape. “what'd i do, duke?”

“waking me up like that, so early…on my day off,” he leans down, nose trailing the curve of your neck. “quite incriminating don't you think?”

his soft touch and huffs of breath alike leave yours a little stuttering. like a puppy, you think to yourself as he noses around and the vision of this idea brings a giggle out of you.

“and now you're laughing at me,” he complains. “you're not helping your case.”

that makes you laugh brighter. wrio feels warmth bloom within his chest at the sight. having you under him, hair splayed out on the pillow cover, the clement sunlight barely illuminating the room through the curtains, your laugh - that sweet, sweet sound - reaching his ears; the whole scene feels a little fuzzy around the edges, as if it's right out of a dream.

“what will you do, duke? are you going to arrest me?”

he smiles, one of his hands coming down to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers rest at your chin. “i couldn't possibly do that to my beloved. perhaps, we can just call it even.”

“perhaps,” you smile back. you pull him down to meet your lips. the kiss is slow and languid, needy in the heat of your touches. your fingernails brush against his scalp while your other hand trails down his chest. his grip is back at your waist squeezing, as the weight of his hips settle against you.

a keening whine escapes your lips and he eagerly laps up the sound. when you break apart, your lips are wet and a little swollen. wrio’s gaze seems entirely fixated on this.

“let's stay in bed for some more hours,” his voice is gravelly with desire yet…yet his eyes are still soft. and how could you deny him.

a small giggle accompanies the push of your hand. “do you think i could convince monsieur neuvillette to let me have you home more often like this?”

home. right here, with you. that's where he belongs.

[dendroseelie]

tysmmmm omg and im so glad you liked it <333

it’s not often you have him like this - all soft and warm, tangled in your sheets. frankly, you think he looks right like he belongs, like he’s where he’s meant to be - within the sanctuary of your room, looking utterly peaceful in his sleep.

the early morning sun of fontaine is still gentle as it filters into your room in glittering beams. wriothesley’s face, usually all stern and domineering, now looks relaxed, free of worries. this is not a sight that many see on the duke of the fortress, a sight not all are privileged to. you revel in the fact that only you get to have him like this - he’s all yours.

you watch him carefully, eyes trailing his features that you’ve memorised over and over again on mornings such as this one. your fingers follow the ghost of your gaze, touch feather-light as you caress the slope of his nose, the apple of his cheeks, the curve of his jaw and the plush of his lips.

his hand shoots to grab your wrist, and you’re startled. you pout, your tranquil admiration of beauty being disrupted.

“enjoying yourself, darling?” his voice is deeper than normal, sleep laced in his words.

you allow yourself a mirthful smile as wrio leads your confined hand to his lips. he presses the softest of kisses to the inside of your wrist, then your palm. “i was,”you say,”before i was rudely interrupted.”

wrio’s eyes sparkle up, amusement flickering to life. “ah, how blasphemous of me to interrupt your staring.”

“truly,” you continue. “i think you should grovel and beg for my forgiveness, it is only fair.”

“of course, of course,” he dons a solemn expression. “i must make up for my errs.”

“you must.”

wrio grins wolfishly and your heart stutters within your ribs. he untangles the sheets from his legs, pushes at your waist gently to have you on your back as he hovers over you. his wide palm finds a rhythm, brushing up and down the plush sides of your waist while he holds up his weight with the other.

“though you're not completely out of fault.”

you hum inquisitively, hands looping behind his neck, fingers quickly finding their way to the hair at his nape. “what'd i do, duke?”

“waking me up like that, so early…on my day off,” he leans down, nose trailing the curve of your neck. “quite incriminating don't you think?”

his soft touch and huffs of breath alike leave yours a little stuttering. like a puppy, you think to yourself as he noses around and the vision of this idea brings a giggle out of you.

“and now you're laughing at me,” he complains. “you're not helping your case.”

that makes you laugh brighter. wrio feels warmth bloom within his chest at the sight. having you under him, hair splayed out on the pillow cover, the clement sunlight barely illuminating the room through the curtains, your laugh - that sweet, sweet sound - reaching his ears; the whole scene feels a little fuzzy around the edges, as if it's right out of a dream.

“what will you do, duke? are you going to arrest me?”

he smiles, one of his hands coming down to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers rest at your chin. “i couldn't possibly do that to my beloved. perhaps, we can just call it even.”

“perhaps,” you smile back. you pull him down to meet your lips. the kiss is slow and languid, needy in the heat of your touches. your fingernails brush against his scalp while your other hand trails down his chest. his grip is back at your waist squeezing, as the weight of his hips settle against you.

a keening whine escapes your lips and he eagerly laps up the sound. when you break apart, your lips are wet and a little swollen. wrio’s gaze seems entirely fixated on this.

“let's stay in bed for some more hours,” his voice is gravelly with desire yet…yet his eyes are still soft. and how could you deny him.

a small giggle accompanies the push of your hand. “do you think i could convince monsieur neuvillette to let me have you home more often like this?”

home. right here, with you. that's where he belongs.

[dendroseelie]

Genshin zine art dump

[dendroseelie]

The three adepti of Chenyu Vale

Homage to my favorite world quest and my favorite trio of NPCs <3

[dendroseelie]

hello 🧍🏽‍♀️I'm sooooo sorry for essentially going mia but my writing juices had unfortunately run out but here's a random wrio blurb that's been swimming in my head for a while that i finallyyyy got around to writing :)

I'm going to try to be more active 🫡🫡 as always, I'm looking forward to your thoughts and feedback, i love getting to know what you think and your ideas <3

it’s not often you have him like this - all soft and warm, tangled in your sheets. frankly, you think he looks right like he belongs, like he’s where he’s meant to be - within the sanctuary of your room, looking utterly peaceful in his sleep.

the early morning sun of fontaine is still gentle as it filters into your room in glittering beams. wriothesley’s face, usually all stern and domineering, now looks relaxed, free of worries. this is not a sight that many see on the duke of the fortress, a sight not all are privileged to. you revel in the fact that only you get to have him like this - he’s all yours.

you watch him carefully, eyes trailing his features that you’ve memorised over and over again on mornings such as this one. your fingers follow the ghost of your gaze, touch feather-light as you caress the slope of his nose, the apple of his cheeks, the curve of his jaw and the plush of his lips.

his hand shoots to grab your wrist, and you’re startled. you pout, your tranquil admiration of beauty being disrupted.

“enjoying yourself, darling?” his voice is deeper than normal, sleep laced in his words.

you allow yourself a mirthful smile as wrio leads your confined hand to his lips. he presses the softest of kisses to the inside of your wrist, then your palm. “i was,”you say,”before i was rudely interrupted.”

wrio’s eyes sparkle up, amusement flickering to life. “ah, how blasphemous of me to interrupt your staring.”

“truly,” you continue. “i think you should grovel and beg for my forgiveness, it is only fair.”

“of course, of course,” he dons a solemn expression. “i must make up for my errs.”

“you must.”

wrio grins wolfishly and your heart stutters within your ribs. he untangles the sheets from his legs, pushes at your waist gently to have you on your back as he hovers over you. his wide palm finds a rhythm, brushing up and down the plush sides of your waist while he holds up his weight with the other.

“though you're not completely out of fault.”

you hum inquisitively, hands looping behind his neck, fingers quickly finding their way to the hair at his nape. “what'd i do, duke?”

“waking me up like that, so early…on my day off,” he leans down, nose trailing the curve of your neck. “quite incriminating don't you think?”

his soft touch and huffs of breath alike leave yours a little stuttering. like a puppy, you think to yourself as he noses around and the vision of this idea brings a giggle out of you.

“and now you're laughing at me,” he complains. “you're not helping your case.”

that makes you laugh brighter. wrio feels warmth bloom within his chest at the sight. having you under him, hair splayed out on the pillow cover, the clement sunlight barely illuminating the room through the curtains, your laugh - that sweet, sweet sound - reaching his ears; the whole scene feels a little fuzzy around the edges, as if it's right out of a dream.

“what will you do, duke? are you going to arrest me?”

he smiles, one of his hands coming down to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers rest at your chin. “i couldn't possibly do that to my beloved. perhaps, we can just call it even.”

“perhaps,” you smile back. you pull him down to meet your lips. the kiss is slow and languid, needy in the heat of your touches. your fingernails brush against his scalp while your other hand trails down his chest. his grip is back at your waist squeezing, as the weight of his hips settle against you.

a keening whine escapes your lips and he eagerly laps up the sound. when you break apart, your lips are wet and a little swollen. wrio’s gaze seems entirely fixated on this.

“let's stay in bed for some more hours,” his voice is gravelly with desire yet…yet his eyes are still soft. and how could you deny him.

a small giggle accompanies the push of your hand. “do you think i could convince monsieur neuvillette to let me have you home more often like this?”

home. right here, with you. that's where he belongs.

[dendroseelie]

it’s not often you have him like this - all soft and warm, tangled in your sheets. frankly, you think he looks right like he belongs, like he’s where he’s meant to be - within the sanctuary of your room, looking utterly peaceful in his sleep.

the early morning sun of fontaine is still gentle as it filters into your room in glittering beams. wriothesley’s face, usually all stern and domineering, now looks relaxed, free of worries. this is not a sight that many see on the duke of the fortress, a sight not all are privileged to. you revel in the fact that only you get to have him like this - he’s all yours.

you watch him carefully, eyes trailing his features that you’ve memorised over and over again on mornings such as this one. your fingers follow the ghost of your gaze, touch feather-light as you caress the slope of his nose, the apple of his cheeks, the curve of his jaw and the plush of his lips.

his hand shoots to grab your wrist, and you’re startled. you pout, your tranquil admiration of beauty being disrupted.

“enjoying yourself, darling?” his voice is deeper than normal, sleep laced in his words.

you allow yourself a mirthful smile as wrio leads your confined hand to his lips. he presses the softest of kisses to the inside of your wrist, then your palm. “i was,”you say,”before i was rudely interrupted.”

wrio’s eyes sparkle up, amusement flickering to life. “ah, how blasphemous of me to interrupt your staring.”

“truly,” you continue. “i think you should grovel and beg for my forgiveness, it is only fair.”

“of course, of course,” he dons a solemn expression. “i must make up for my errs.”

“you must.”

wrio grins wolfishly and your heart stutters within your ribs. he untangles the sheets from his legs, pushes at your waist gently to have you on your back as he hovers over you. his wide palm finds a rhythm, brushing up and down the plush sides of your waist while he holds up his weight with the other.

“though you're not completely out of fault.”

you hum inquisitively, hands looping behind his neck, fingers quickly finding their way to the hair at his nape. “what'd i do, duke?”

“waking me up like that, so early…on my day off,” he leans down, nose trailing the curve of your neck. “quite incriminating don't you think?”

his soft touch and huffs of breath alike leave yours a little stuttering. like a puppy, you think to yourself as he noses around and the vision of this idea brings a giggle out of you.

“and now you're laughing at me,” he complains. “you're not helping your case.”

that makes you laugh brighter. wrio feels warmth bloom within his chest at the sight. having you under him, hair splayed out on the pillow cover, the clement sunlight barely illuminating the room through the curtains, your laugh - that sweet, sweet sound - reaching his ears; the whole scene feels a little fuzzy around the edges, as if it's right out of a dream.

“what will you do, duke? are you going to arrest me?”

he smiles, one of his hands coming down to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers rest at your chin. “i couldn't possibly do that to my beloved. perhaps, we can just call it even.”

“perhaps,” you smile back. you pull him down to meet your lips. the kiss is slow and languid, needy in the heat of your touches. your fingernails brush against his scalp while your other hand trails down his chest. his grip is back at your waist squeezing, as the weight of his hips settle against you.

a keening whine escapes your lips and he eagerly laps up the sound. when you break apart, your lips are wet and a little swollen. wrio’s gaze seems entirely fixated on this.

“let's stay in bed for some more hours,” his voice is gravelly with desire yet…yet his eyes are still soft. and how could you deny him.

a small giggle accompanies the push of your hand. “do you think i could convince monsieur neuvillette to let me have you home more often like this?”

home. right here, with you. that's where he belongs.

[dendroseelie]

I finally got the jade cutter after 4 years, I need everyone to applaud.

[dendroseelie]

also on another note, my creative juices have been a little low although i do have multiple ideas on going in my head 🙇🏽‍♀️ so im hoping to at least put a drabble out soon

[dendroseelie]

golden ✨

[dendroseelie]

Wriothesley #15

There’s only snow outside

[dendroseelie]

who was your first genshin crush? :p

my man zhongli fr fr 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

[dendroseelie]

diluc based off of an pinterest image.

[dendroseelie]

Wriothesley almost misses your question when he’s caught up in the way you pull your stocking up along your leg as you’re getting dressed in the morning. Sunlight filters through the window and he’s still bare-chested lounging in the tangled sheets, arm folded behind his head and enamored blue eyes following your every movement. You’re saying things with each tug of the delicate fabric starting from your ankle, over your knee and the lace trimming settle around your uppermost thigh.

There’s a tent forming in your duvet as you move to your wardrobe where your outfit hangs on the door. “Did you get that Wrio? Don’t forget to lock up before you leave, okay?” You chime with a sweet smile and he snaps out of his thoughts, forming a response that reaches your ears. Soon after the warmth of his hand spread over yours when you’re fastening your dress, a softness of a kiss alighting your shoulder at the same moment. You have a feeling he’s going to be the reason for you being late with him pressing behind you like that.

[dendroseelie]

despicable me