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anantaru · 8 months

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THE PRICE IN MYSTERIES CONCEALED

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — who was the man you fell in love with? why did it seem like he was hiding his true self away from you, and why, at last, was he hesitant to deepen the connection in your new relationship?

— ꒰ word count ꒱ — 3.4k

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ns]fw, fem! reader, first time intimate, playing with your tits (tit lover neuvillette), unprotected, he has marks on his chest, loads of cum lmao, virgin! neuvillette but skilled, quick learner, established relationship, size kink (dragon cock giggles), sweet sweet neuvillette he's the sweetest man

there are no two ways to go on about it, but you can clearly hear the words neuvillette doesn’t say to you, you can see it in the light of his eyes. hidden verses evaporating in slow heaves, how rain puddles disappear on a hot day, when he ultimately decides against reciting his longings out loud to you.

instead, he imagined it in his hankering memories, how you'd feel under him, topless, bare and exposed, how it would feel when he was luxuriating in your velvet walls of your entrance and the vivid heat that would envelope him every time he sinks his cock all the way inside.

nonetheless, it's futile, he couldn't do it, he won't make the first step, but he knows, he could swear on it, that there was nothing warmer nor more welcoming then being inside of you.

in such predicament, neuvillette doesn’t know what to do nor on how to get rid of those improper fantasies circulating in his psyche, because, as it happened, he felt disgusted in himself to even daydream in such manners, about his significant other— someone he regarded as infinitely perfect beyond the limits of his own imagination.

besides, he's never done this before, again, he’s fucked his hand while thinking about you, feverish pants and hot breathes exposing him behind closed doors, most of the times it's uncoordinated and without knowing how to bring himself to a nice, proper climax.

neuvillette could never stop his digits from traveling down south before rutting into his hand so fucking desperate, with a heartfelt heat plummeting on top of his body, shudders when he drags over the slit of his cockhead, brows furrowed, pale skin battered in champagne rose, wishing it was your soft, warm cunt he'd be fucking into instead.

and it's not like you denied yourself to him, because there certainly were enough moments in the past where he was presented with the opportunity of advancing it forward, magnifying your new, fresh relationship— souls nurturing in the most sacred, wonderful way, while right before it could be turning into that direction, his eyes would suddenly be unable to hold yours any longer and his worry kicks in right afterwards.

then, as it happens so often, he could feel his embarrassment bottle up when he pushes himself away from you, leaving you behind, yet— remember, he doesn't lie upfront to you, he'd never defy your trust nor succumb to altering the truth, which made it even more awkward to begin with.

to be transparent, gone were the days where he wouldn't have to deal with the enriched pressure and heaviness in his groin, new, unlocked desires that if he were to ignore them, or at least try, only would bounce back with a more intense power, until he was painfully hard all day, not knowing on how to get rid of it once and for all.

to counterbalance, you eagerly note and remember the words he did speak out to you, and despite the veiled meanings behind it all, sheltered below a smokescreen of mysteries, it's there.

furthermore, it was perceivable in the doubled seemings, and despite that, the mysterious man seldomly exchanged words of affirmations, protecting the hidden truth that had been stored in his heart for decades on end.

the man rather spoke in the elusiveness of his delicate glances, and in his imperceptible touch, because there was a primordial light inside the action of his trails. from first principles, he never sought out any of this, because the way he saw it was that unclouded emotions for another individual are best left unrevealed in life. all that mattered, in the end, was what the brain spoke out to yourself, because strict rules must be followed.

but if any moment in time anchored his very soul, created a strong tether to this plane of reality he found himself bound by, it was the moment he fell in love with you.

neuvillette never let you touch him more, currently, he only kisses you smoothly, plants wet, open mouthed pecks along your collarbones before lapping his tongue up, sharp teeth slowly grazing over the soaked skin. it's as if he was scared of unspoken consequences if he were to move this forward, or of the sudden possibility to hurt you.

humans were fragile, he said, like a vase falling on the ground, broken into a million pieces and unable to be fixed again.

presently, your hands find his hair, and the bed dips as you shuffle your frame into him, smothering the small distance of your bodies, laying your warm hand against his clothed chest, just above the little jeweled medallion he always seems to wear. he gulps out strongly when you lock your digits into his form-fitting garments, just to pull him closer to your body as you open his mouth with your tongue, lapping over his wet muscle before pulling away with a pop.

"feel me." you say intimately, guiding his trembling hand over your chest, and awaiting his reactions, testing the waters, while his luminous eyes watch you contently as you pause, his touch reaching your covered breasts, and neuvillette draws his fingers into the concealed mounds, his lips parting for a low grumble, eyes opening wide as it got hard.

"feel how my body reacts when you touch me," you speak in a hitching voice, whining when he pulls at the erected nipple, whilst the fabric of your shirt turned his traces all the more roughened, intense with the garment rubbing against your sensitive tits, "feel how i love you."

neuvillette sucks in a breath, crossing his tongue over his bottom lip, "i do not want to hurt you." he whispers, his cock growing hard and heavy squished against your core when he unintentionally grinds down a little, both moaning against each other, his breath hot, his noises hanging across the walls of the room. it's without a doubt that this time it's different from prior instances where he was, although with enough discipline, able to remove himself from you, faster and without making a complete idiot of himself.

now, neuvillette was unable to keep his own hips to a complete stand still, he moves them, softly grinds against your clothed cunt before fisting the pillow right next to your head, knuckles turning white at the sheer intensity and power he was graced with, chasing more of the incomparable relief that you are so preciously giving him.

you whine, a noise all winded and hot when you wrap your legs around his hips, "you won't hurt me." you murmur, catching his face with your palms so he could rest in them, "because i trust you."

he believes that maybe you miss it too, desire it, the pleasure that was unlike others, perhaps it had been lacking in every aspect of your relationship which neither of you expected to have in the first place.

and you're ravishing, he can't say if often enough, believing that you were made for living once, because you were one of a kind, made of mesmerizing lights and clear, pure water and a soothing birdsong, sprouting flowers and the finest silk in teyvat.

... unlike him.

neuvillette groans into your lips when you lick across his mouth, leaving his infectious tunes stretch the need in his rough voice, stretching it out long and slow enough until it sounds like a clear beg to fuck you, or at least continue with this.

but besides that, you cannot look into his mind, blinking up at his reddened face that was towering on top of you, "do you want me to stop?" you breathe out, smoothly circling your thumb over his bristling cheek, stilling your hips and attempting to close your legs when he wishes you would just kiss him again.

"no.." he replies almost a little too fast, as if he was ready to beg for it, and his cheeks catch on the color of scarlet red rather quickly, his hands scattering down to your hips to keep you from concealing your movements away from him, fuck, it just feels so fucking good he cannot believe himself.

"i apologize.." his face crumbles with the vulnerability in it, exhaling from his parted lips, "i've never—"

"that's okay." you mouth a spot on his neck, reaching his earlobe, "but i want to hear you." you tip your head forward and give a twist of tongue into his lips, skillfully arching your hips to rub over his erected groin yourself— teeth colliding against each other bound by a crushing sensation that was growing each second.

with a muffled, breathless laugh giving way to a soft whine when he adds more strength to his thrust, you longed to let him know how you felt— yes, right there, you say when he at last, slips his fingers into your shirt to touch your bare breasts, just like that, do it more.

you aid neuvillette in unclothing you as his body flexes under your hands, shivering when your eyes lift to meet his glowing ones, and there’s a moment— you can never forget it, crystalline and trembling on the edge of a leaf, that you could tell that he has been buried inside of his own mind but instead of going back to suppressing his desires, as he did countless of instances before, he answers now, without words— and oh, he gets bolder, the faint, needy whines that crawled into your ears made you rock into him, his digits slipping over your skin and circling on top of your nipples.

the prickles and vibrations in your veins and in your bones multiply and the temperature in your room changes into humidity— your craving body lightening up and threatening to float away by his ever so subtle, sweet traces and rounds on your tits, getting himself to work while you're anchored here only, all eyes on him, under him, by the rhythm of his fingers.

"take your clothes off for me." you say, pinching the hem of one leg and giving it a gentle tug. neuvillette hums in agreement, nodding right after, tongueing at the roof of his mouth in nervousness, because everyone could clearly see that he was tense, yet his cock was turning harder under your attention, he feels like it's going to explode if he doesn't do anything about it now.

he drops all the way back, body lifting off the bed as he slides his high-priced pants down yet not before opening his belt one handed, the "click" of the metal making you tremble, followed by the rest of his clothes which you aided him on, reaching down to drag down your soaked panties as well.

his cock bounces as he kicks the fabric away, and by the time he’s back up on both elbows towering above you, the fullness of it rests long and heavy against the crease of your thigh. His long, slender fingers giving it a slow tug as you watch, entranced by its size and shape— he was way above average, not even that would do it justice, coated with a bunch of small yet thick veins that reached all the way up, hard and aching, right under his cock head that had been desperately glistening with his pre cum.

time slows, stops, holds entirely; he dares to glance down, looking at your drenched pussy and how your hole fluttered around air, shimmering with your slick.

and you wrap yourself around him, arms out so he could lean into you. you know he's sharpening his senses to catch your reactions, adjusting his rubs on your tits when he notes a particular place being a little more sensitive and how you moan out when he touches it.

everything hits all at once, and he cannot get enough, both of you cannot.

for the first time, he experienced actually being free from his shackles and neuvillette needed your affirmations that it was in fact okay, you wanted to continue, because he never kept his eyes off you, always watching you closely through hungry eyes— for all that could happen, despite him continuing to be content with you.

the man was intoxicating, he was handsome from the depth of his ocean eyes to the gentle, sweet expressions of his voice when he whispers sweet nothing into your ears. neuvillette was beautiful, as if carved by literal gods, his chest defined, blue'ish traces, reminding you of tattoos, outlining the sides of his torso— but they weren't tattoos, they appeared to be a part of him since birth, how beauty marks are visible on some bodies, his were larger and resembling the kindest, most soothing waves.

neuvillette kisses down on your collarbone and you gasp out when he suddenly moves a little lower to take a nipple into his warm mouth, shudder when he crosses his tongue over it for the first time, it feels warm and wonderful with his complete weight on top of you.

and you can feel his hand, the rhythm of it on your other breast as it’s wrapped around the solid heat of your bud, continuing to palm your tits when his warm breath fans across your skin.

in this room, the man experienced so many different emotions now, but he feels more alive, within seconds, more awake, more present, and he doesn’t try to talk nor voice too much in the beginning, he just wanted to listen to the pace of your breathing, your whines and what your moans did to him.

he was waiting for your heaves to even out, align in soft decrease whilst he certainly doesn't realize that if he were to continue to hump your bare, thudding pussy the way he did, in accessory to playing with your tits and lapping his tongue across as if famished, there was no way for your heart rate to ever go back in an even pace.

regardless, neuvillette alters his breathing to match your own, his heaves on your wet skin, breathless, hot, when you begin to move your hips up a little, his cock nudging on your hole but never sliding in, his tip alone seemed to be big in it's own right and you wondered if you could even fit him in you.

of course, you were plenty wet, he made sure of that, always so kind and gifting.

your entire face buzzes with pins and needles when he draws himself back from your tits and your hand travels down to catch his girth in your warm palms, fisting him a little and spreading his pre over his drumming girth, grinning when he hooks his hands to your hips, pulling you straight down so his cock would be perfectly situated and ready to feel you, for real this time.

"tell me.." he mutters, "if you want to stop." and you kiss his lips featherlight, "of course, don’t worry about it." and nodding when you drag him across your folds to collect enough slick before slowly, agonizingly slow, push his tip inside.

your eyes flare wide and you arch your back instantly, no thoughts, no judgements, only your breathing getting cut short by the sudden piercing thrust burying inside your tight hole with a stretch that's more shock than anything else, and you hide yourself in his chest when you whimper into his ears, "slower, please". he understands and the restraints in his chest loosen as he wraps his arms across your body, as if protecting you in a sense.

neuvillette shuffles his knees wide and splits your legs further apart, holding you how he wants you, how he thinks will hurt less and even out the burning split on your cunt— he proceeds and fucks into you slowly, inch by inch, waiting a little, before adding another.

you ease up into him eventually, your walls getting used to his girth, the slap of his body against you quiet yet precise, his hips pumping in a slow, rhythmic roll that grinds the low of his stomach against your clit, spotting the prickling point on your cunt. you're turning hazy at the fullness, dipping your fingers into his long hair before pulling him in for a sloppy kiss, lapping across him in slow twists, pinching your hips up to meet his blows.

now, all you could do was to relish in his warmth, curve your back like a bow and let the most desirable, filthiest moans spill from your pretty, pursed lips. neuvillette was quick to catch and watch you, swallowing down every gritty moan and whine that you offered him, because of him, he couldn't fathom that he was the reason you felt that good, passing his cock back into you, in, out, in, out, humming in appreciation between sucking kisses that leave a pinching trail from your neck to your tits that he ever so graciously played with.

neuvillette got a pretty good first impression of it now, and he doesn’t slow, while, his thrusts become faster and more, greedy, not until he unthreads an arm from the mounds of your breasts and caresses the length of your body— slowed and appreciative, sliding his hand over your stomach and up, reaching to your shoulder before hooking his fingers on it— thrusts now faster as he drags you into him, harder, and your tits bounce back and forth with each jolt of his large cock splashing into your hole.

of course he blushes when you tighten your muscles, clenching down on his girth and milking him preciously, it was a dead give-away that he wouldn't last long when he releases a long, lagged moan of your name. like his warm, wet kisses, the drags and fondles of his traces left a wake rippling along your entire skin, a sensory memory, never overridden by anything else.

the coil in your stomach builds up quickly, nerves lighting up when his tongue flicks out to tease the sensitive point of your neck and jawline, body sizzling as if electro infused as pleasure jolts down your flesh until reaching your cunt.

"make me cum," you cry, "i need you!"

"—you have me."

throat tight, body tighter, your hands quick to push him from your neck to your mouth, lips pressing together as you arch and jolt off the bed, up and down, his cock faster than before as the wet, filthy smacking sounds almost overrode your noises. you squeeze around him, hungrily, strongly, suckling in his cock with your thudding hole as his hand on your shoulder clasps behind your neck, pushing you so far up against his glossy lips that you exchanged breathes and whines, throaty groan and cries.

you turn your arms around his chest to strengthen the touch, throat bobbing, mouth dry. there’s no space for anything left and when he pushes himself in you completely, cock disappearing in your used hole, your eyes roll into the back of your head and you shake viciously, climaxing around him, making a mess of yourself, when the bubble in his stomach popped instantly whilst seeing you become free, your liquids drawing a white ring around his girth— neuvillette couldn't go on about it any longer, not when you gnaw down on him so fucking desperate, so loved and fulfilled.

he cums hard, and a lot, and he tenses up, a thrill running over his flesh as his brows furrow, releasing his warm whites with shallow thrusts into your pussy before tucking your body tight to his front and pulls you even more tightly against him, messing you up with his seed. he has been so touch-starved that he can feel drizzling tears form and connect under his lashes in tune with his own orgasm taking him hostage.

his expression softens afterwards, looking like a heavy burden has been lifted off his shoulders, and he dips his head forward, foreheads resting. it's quiet for a while, well, if it weren't for your loud breathes and the clear exhaustion quelling on your facial expressions. the both of you are puffing and blowing out air, finding comfort in the silence when a torrid heat of swirls casts on your bodies, the atmosphere in the room on-fire and fiery.

you decide to kiss his lips, when you finally smirk up at him, eyes aglow, and his own lips are pulled up into an ethereal, handsome smile, his demeanor cascading with an intensity, an honesty, a gentleness and love.

real love.

"i craved you." he whispers, "and i desire you." and kisses your lips one more time.

alas, neuvillette came to terms with himself, knowing that there would never be anything, nothing, that could ever beat the feeling of this.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #neuvillette smut #neuvillette x reader #genshin impact neuvillette #genshin impact neuvillette x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fan fiction #genshin impact neuvillette smut

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haviavi · 4 months

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Pairing: Neuvilette x Zhongli x Reader x (Probably Baizhu)

Warnings: rough sex, double penetration, unprotected sex, monster sex, oral sex... I don't really know what else to add.

Comment: so this is my first post of this type, so don't kick me with your slippers. Sorry for my English in advance.🥲 MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT!

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I have a headcanon that they are like dragons with double members. That in math for two there will be 4.

> Zhongli. <

He... He!!! He knows exactly what you like and knows when you're ovulating because he can smell your hormones. He likes to take risks, so sometimes you have unprotected sex when you're ovulating, but it's okay, because pregnancy requires other... conditions.

He's the one who likes to almost fuck you till you unconscious in bed, bringing you to a semi-conscious state with hours of changing positions. But he also cares about you afterwards, because he knows that the endurance of humans and dragons is different.

Zhongli's cock is dark brown, like his arms and legs. The tip is orange or yellowish, like amber. He also can control the hardness of the cock making it hard like a...stone.

The main penis is larger, the second one is slightly smaller and resembles an arrow. The second member is darker and narrower.

> Neuvilette. <

Oh fuck, him!!! He hasn't been around people as long as Zhongli, so you'll have to tell him what you like and what you don't like. Because he doesn't understand human emotions. He will love you carefully and tenderly, even if you beg him to fuck you harder. He is not sure that he will not exaggerate his strength, so he will be as careful as possible.

The cock in the Neuvi... Well. There are two paths here. Both about the double because I said so. Lol.

· One is about a human-like penis. The other is about the tentacled one.

· We're going to follow the second one. Yes, they are tentacles and it is physically impossible for them both to be in you at the same time. One of the members is for laying eggs, the other is for fertilizing them. And you have to try to prove to him that sex is only for fertilization. The penises are blue, with suction parts that don't cling to the skin too much.

> When they're both in one room with you. <

I expect that Zhongli will show Neuvi exactly how you like to be fucked. Perhaps they will even let you play with his (Neuvi's) cocks with your mouth, opening up new sensations for the hydro dragon, because before he didn't understand why he should do this.

Double penetration... From the two of them... It would require preparation. And a lot of lubrication. Both his own and the other's (hydro slime, maybe).

After such a "marathon", you will need to go to Baizhu, who will only complain about the dragons for ignoring the fact that you are a human. However... you are so greedy that you want to fill all your holes with these incredible men. So again, double penetration from the dragons and oral sex for Baizhu...

(Funny headcanon that Changsheng will comment on all the positions and say which one will hit the most erogenous zones.)

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#neuvillette #neuvilette genshin #neuvillete x reader #neuvilette smut #zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli smut #baizhu #baizhu smut #headcanon #baizhu genshin impact #genshin 18+#genshin impact #genshin man smut #genshin smut

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minkydinks · 6 months

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SandWings

It's finally time, people!!!

SandWings have been on the agenda for a while and I'm so happy to finally have them done. Here's as much info as I can give right now.

General

SandWings are medium-sized bipedal dragons that inhabit the desert, badlands, and other transitional biomes of Pyrrhia. They come in a variety of muted desert-y colors, but the most common include: Yellow, brown, red, dusty orange, and some black.

SandWings, unlike most other tribes, are built for running long distances rather than flying. While their wings are still perfectly good for travel, it's far more efficient to travel on foot, since they are the fastest tribe on the ground.

Their wings are smaller in comparison to their body than most other tribes as well, so they largely rely on desert thermals to keep them aloft. In places with minimal air currents, or with excess cold, SandWings have trouble gaining lift.

SandWings have light armoring along the scales of their back, although these armor-plated scales are not quite as tough as you would expect. These armored scales are thicker than the rest as to protect them from the harsh sun; although they do double as a nice additional protector from other SandWings' venomous tails. Otherwise, they're not great for protection.

Their armored appearance bears heavy resemblance to MudWings, and it is believed that MudWings and SandWings are quite closely related; albeit MudWings are much more on the heavyweight-end.

A SandWing's horns can be of any shape and array, although most commonly, SandWing horns protrude forward like bull horns; especially female SandWings, where they're used to vie for the throne. These horns are utilized at high-speed to ram into targets, and to duel with rival SandWings. Being hit by a SandWing horns-first at top-speed is near equivalent to being impaled by a motorcycle on the freeway.

SandWings are also adorned with frills along their head, neck, & chest. Male SandWings have additional frills along their lower jaw & lower torso.

These frills are continuously-growing, meaning that SandWings typically cut, style, & shave them at their discretion. Some SandWings prefer their frills long, like Princess Blister. Other SandWings cut them quite short to keep them out of the way during battles, like Six-Claws. Short frills became standard for SandWings during the War of SandWing Succession, as they became a distraction or a detriment otherwise. It was rare for a SandWing not to have short frills during the 20-year conflict, if they were battlers and not factory-workers.

SandWings are notorious for their potent venom. This venom is created and stored in sacs inside the barb at the tip of their tails.

While adult SandWings are perfectly capable of killing another dragon with a lethal dose, SandWing dragonets are far more deadly. Not strictly because of the venom, but because they lack the control needed to limit how much venom they inject. A sting from a newly-hatched SandWing is more likely to kill you than a sting from an adult, who can decide how much they want their sting to hurt.

Culture

SandWing culture is nothing mysterious; they have some of the most well-known festivals and armaments in the continent.

SandWings, having so much land to themselves, utilize much of it for factories and plants. They are one of the most technologically advanced tribes, with steampunk-esque mechanisms and structures throughout their kingdom.

Their metals of choice include copper, tin, and bronze; much of it mined within the desert itself. However, with the SkyWings' alliance, SandWings on Burn's side of the war have been able to import metals and other materials from the mountains to create stronger weapons & armors. Similarly, Blister & Blaze's forces have been able to do this as well, albeit with fewer materials overall and less armored dragons total.

Weapons and armory aren't the only things SandWings create with their metallurgy though. SandWings, having deep respect for their veterans and a cultural motto that you will always survive to fight, also create advanced prosthetics.

Prosthetic legs & arms are the most common, but you might also catch a SandWing with a prosthetic wing or tail. Some SandWings get horn replacements if their horns break off in battle and become less effective at fighting with.

Prosthetic wings are by far the rarest to find, since they are the most expensive to make & obtain, and don't actually perform quite as well as a normal wing. Most dragons with prosthetic wings use them to show off their worthiness in battle, how they survived and were heavily rewarded for their supreme skill and efforts.

Each prosthetic, weapon, and piece of armor comes branded with several labels: The name of the factory it was made in, the name & seal of the queen/princess it was made under, and its serial number. These labels would allow each rival sister to check their dragons' true alliance. SandWings with the seal of a rival sister would be killed, as it would then be apparent who they went to for their supplies.

After the end of the War of SandWing succession, the seals for Burn, Blister, and Blaze were retired in favor of Queen Thorn's own seal. As a result, armor with the royal SandWing sisters' seals were considered limited collector's items, and have increased dramatically in their value.

Prior to the death of Queen Oasis, these seals were not a generic serial label, but a gift from the Queen, almost like being knighted. To have armor with the Seal of the Queen was considered a great honor, but times have changed.

RGAAAAH I HOPE Y'ALL LIKE THIS If you have any questions or ideas you want me to fill in on, please shoot me an ask or something bc I would love to answer !!

#wof #wings of fire #wof tribe redesign #sandwing #dragon

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c-rose2081 · 2 months

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The Rose-Beauty Twins

There is no such thing as bad genes in the Rose-Beauty family. Both Briar and Rosabella can say with confidence ‘my mom’s cooler than yours’.

Damascena and Delilah Rose-Beauty are twin sisters with opposite personalities, both attending Ever After the generation before the show takes place. One can definitely fix him, while the other just got kicked out of the library 🤭 if you manage to catch the eye of either of these feisty ladies, it should be an immediate A+ in Advanced Wooing as that’s not an easy feat.

If you’re looking for a good time (or to get stoned behind the school), Damascena Rose is your best bet. She’s easy to find as she carries a boombox around wherever she goes, both to hype up whoever, whenever, but also to help keep herself awake. She is the party animal of her class; it’s no question where Briar gets it from. Damascena is a known flirt and likes to play around whenever possible, but it’s all in fun. After all, her true love isn’t coming for another century…right? (Not true, she falls head over heels for star dragon-slayer Valor Prince Charming, but that’s an entirely different story). Much to everyone’s surprise, Damascena actually wants to settle down and raise a large family, but she needs someone with enough spunk to keep up with her active lifestyle.

If you’re looking for someone a bit more studious, Delilah Rose is a hexcellent choice of companion. She’s intelligent, well-read, and a defender of justice wherever she goes. You can usually find her in the library, or spitting fire across the table in debate. Where Delilah is less likely to jump into a relationship than her twin, she has a very…bad…taste in men, something she and her daughter Rosabella share. She likes the bad-boys and the rebels; those guys who are ‘no good’ for anyone else. But, like her sister, Delilah isn’t looking for serious love either. She’s more likely to sit you down to address your past trauma or poor grades than for an actual date. (Delilah finds love too with Valor’s estranged beast of a brother, Warren, making Briar and Rosabella double-cousins). Delilah is opposite her sister in the family department; she worries about not being a good mother, and prefers the company of books rather than people.

Random Headcanons and Facts:

- Damascena and Faelyn Thorn (Faybelle’s mom) are incredibly close friends.

- Delilah is two minutes older than her twin, making her the ‘big’ sister. This is why she has the favored of their two destinies.

- Delilah is on the debate team, while Damascena helps run Ever After’s radio station and newspaper. (Damascena also does music for school events like dances and mixers)

- Absolutely no one expected Damascena and Valor to hook up. Many thought Valor was actually Snow White’s destined true love.

- Delilah and Damascena are roommates (not by choice) and they hate every second of it despite living in the same room at home.

- Damascena and her mom don’t get along due to differences regarding the outcome of the Sleeping Beauty legacy. She’s not close with her dad either for the same reason.

- Contrary-wise, Delilah is very close to her mom and dad and is the ‘favorite child’, as she’s looking forward to her story playing out.

#ever after high #eah #sleeping beauty #beauty and the beast #ever after high fanart #briar beauty #rosabella beauty #parents #digital art #concept art #character art #fanart #illustration #character design #original character #art #alternate universe

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satoshi-mochida · 6 months

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Double Dragon Collection releases today for the Switch, with Super Double Dragon and Double Dragon Advance releasing today digitally for the PS4, Xbox One, Switch and Steam(Super Double Dragon, Double Dragon Advance).

#Double Dragon Collection #Double Dragon #Super Double Dragon #Double Dragon Advance #Arc System Works #Beat'em Up

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smbhax · 1 year

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Double Dragon Advance (GBA)

Story

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callsign-rogueone · 2 months

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like snow on the beach - r.g.

Ridoc Gamlyn x marked!reader a continuation of love at first fight, part of the Ridoc and Sweetheart series 🦋 words: 2.8k 🏷: FOURTH WING SPOILERS. she/her, feminine reader (wears a dress for Reunification Day, referred to as a girl/woman). mentions of canon character death, mentions of dissociation and anxiety. you have a panic attack, but someone helps you through it. titled after the tswift song!

“Don’t look now, but that guy from second squad is staring at you again,” Liam says quietly. “At your four.”

You twist in your seat as if cracking your back, looking over your shoulder. Sure enough, the cute curly-haired boy who had handed you the dagger you’d won from Jack Barlowe the other day is looking right at you.

“Say the word and I’ll handle him,” Imogen offers, picking at her nails with disinterest. She’s been itching for another fight since her last opponent tapped out after ten seconds.

The tall redhead sitting across from him notices you’re looking in their direction, and he kicks his friend under the table. He looks away quickly, starting a conversation with the rest of the group. Not discreet at all.

“Hurting anyone in Sorrengail’s squad wouldn’t go over well with Xaden. And look at him. He’s harmless,” you defend.

“He definitely doesn’t want to kill you,” Liam agrees. “He’s just smitten.”

You glance to your right again. He has his back turned now, still engaged in conversation with his friends, who are all laughing at something he said.

So he’s the class clown type. Interesting.

Imogen scoffs. “He can bark up that tree all he wants, but we all know it’ll never get him anywhere.”

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And bark he does. You can’t shake the guy and his sunny personality. He’s everywhere you are, always having something to say, some shameless line to drop on you.

“If I make this bullseye, you have to let me take you out for dinner. There’s an amazing pasta place in town, you’ll love it.”

“No,” you say flatly.

“You don’t like pasta?” He asks, and you know that if you say you don’t, he’ll just offer something else.

“I do. But we’re not going out.”

He misses by an inch and a half anyway.

You pick up one of your own blades, weighing it carefully in one hand before pulling it back and letting sail. It lands to the left of his, in the dead center of the target.

He doesn’t look embarrassed in the slightest. “Alright, we’ll stay in and work on my aim. Just you, me, and a whole rack of knives. What do you say?”

“I’d say that putting us in a room with one weapon is a bad idea.”

He grins. “There’s just something undeniably sexy about a woman who wants to kill me.”

“I don’t want to kill you.” It’s true -- you have no ill will toward the guy, you just wish he’d quit while he’s behind.

“That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

You falter for a moment, thinking about it. You don’t think you’ve ever been objectively mean to him, just blunt in declining his advances.

“You’re moving your arm too much,” you say instead, yanking your dagger out of the wood panel, but leaving his where it stands, off-center. “Less in the elbow, more in the wrist.”

You don’t stick around to watch him try again.

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Nothing seems to discourage him, not your dry responses nor being ignored completely. He’s determined to keep chipping away at your shell, but why?

“Is your dragon mated? I was thinking we could go on a double date. Aotrom’s an upstanding guy, she’d like him.”

You can’t even begin to imagine the conversations this guy must have with his dragon. Is he as weary of the boy’s enthusiasm as you are, or is he encouraging this behavior?

“I’d consider it if he wasn’t missing so many teeth,” Rhith muses. “But he’s a bit old for my taste.”

“Their personalities wouldn’t mesh at all,” you answer, as if you’re speaking about Rhith and Aotrom, and not you and Ridoc.

“I think if she gave him a chance, she’d change her mind,” he says slyly.

“I don’t date men under six foot.”

He mimes taking a knife to the chest. “You wound me, sweetheart. But I promise I can make up for it in all the ways that matter.”

“With that dazzling sense of humor?”

“I was going to make a dick joke, actually. But I’m glad you think I’m dazzling.”

You roll your eyes, leaving.

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You have never considered yourself vain, but you’d spent a full minute admiring your reflection in the bathroom mirror before heading down for the festivities.

The formal dress looks incredible on you. Tight in all the right places, the cut highlights the muscle you’ve gained since starting the term at Basgiath, but it covers enough to still be somewhat professional.

You don’t need jewelry -- your rebellion relic is the perfect accessory, the black swirls forming the illusion of a lace sleeve up one arm, complimenting the black satin draped over your skin.

You’d even fixed up your hair for the occasion, freeing it from its usual sweaty braids and washing and drying it carefully, letting it fall over the exposed curves of your shoulders. Simple. Perfect.

Imogen hadn’t hesitated to hype you up when she saw you, her jaw dropping at the sight. “Holy shit, girl, you look hot. If you’ve ever wanted to fuck anyone in the quadrant, tonight would be the night to do it.”

You laugh. “I’ll be perfectly content to have a calm night. Some boring speeches, some fireworks, and then straight to bed.”

“Suit yourself,” she calls, headed off.

“Someone should tell Amari that she’s missing an angel.”

You don’t need to turn to know who it is, but you look over your shoulder at him anyway.

Ridoc continues to wax poetic, a lazy smile on his face. “You are a goddess among men. The kind of woman bards write songs about and men go to war over.”

“How many drinks have you had?”

“None,” Sawyer answers for his friend, sounding like he could use one himself. “This is just the way he is.”

Ridoc agrees, grinning. “Stone cold sober, gorgeous. I want to remember this sight forever.”

You laugh at his bold absurdity, and the light, clear sound goes straight to his heart.

He beams even brighter. “You laughed. That’s a crack in the armor.”

“You’re a menace to society, Gamlyn.”

“Gods, I love it when you’re mean to me,” he says with a dreamy sigh. “I’m gonna write about this in my diary when I get back to my room.”

“Goodnight,” you say, ending the conversation, or trying to.

“Someday, sweetheart,” he calls, watching you walk away. “I’ll get there someday, I know I will.”

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You should already be on the flight field, but the fear gripping your heart has your boots stuck to the stone ground of the courtyard. You’ll be no use to your friends in this state, anyway. You need to relax.

You close your eyes for a moment, picturing the meadows of Tyrrendor. A dozen blue butterflies materialize in front of you, the gentle motion of their wings as they float through the night air soothing your nerves.

“Whoa.”

You startle, and the butterflies vanish, your head snapping toward the voice.

Ridoc stands a few yards away, still in his dress uniform, though he’s undone the first two buttons of the shirt, rolled up the sleeves and ditched the jacket entirely. A few dark locks fall across his forehead, loosened from the gel that had been holding them earlier.

He looks good like this. Too good.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he offers. “I’ve just never seen anything like them before. They’re beautiful.”

You compose yourself quickly. “They’re native to Tyrrendor. They don’t live anywhere else on the continent.”

“You’ll have to show me the real ones sometime,” he says, smiling.

You raise an eyebrow at the implication that you’d be bringing him home any time soon.

He continues, not missing a beat. “I may look like a hotshot dragon rider, which I am, but we both know you’d be the one in charge between us. I’d do anything you asked, sweetheart.”

“Anything except leave me alone?” you ask, regretting the sharp words as soon as they enter the air.

He’s silent. Maybe you’ve finally proven your point, proven to both him and yourself that you’re no good for him, that you don’t deserve the starry-eyed reverence he’s afforded you for months.

A whistle echoes across the courtyard, a three-note gliss you’d recognize anywhere; the one your parents had used to call you inside for dinner when you were kids.

You don’t turn toward the sound, still looking at Ridoc. For the first time ever, he isn’t smiling at you, and it feels like the world has stopped turning, that the sun has burnt out and the moons have disappeared from the sky.

You’re sick with guilt, struggling to form complete sentences. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to… that was a really fucked up thing for me to say. I just… I don’t understand why you-”

“Hurry up,” Garrick calls, impatient. “Xaden is pissed.”

“You should go,” Ridoc says softly. “We can talk about this another day.”

Why is he looking at you like that after what you’d said to him? Why does he still care about you? Why did he in the first place?

“Be safe,” he adds quietly, and that’s enough for you to finally move your feet, to run toward your foster brother, to follow him and Xaden to gods-know-where for their final assignment.

Garrick’s words go in one ear and out the other as you race toward the flight field. It doesn’t matter where you’re going or what you have to do, only that you come back, that you see Ridoc again and tell him the truth.

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The next few days go by in a blur, devoid of color. You’re barely aware of your existence, just going through the motions to keep yourself alive. You sleep, you eat, but your dreams are blank and the food tasteless.

You settle onto the cold stone of the main staircase, leaning your cheek against the banister.

It’s easy enough to conjure a few of the soft blue butterflies, watching them flutter about above your head. You reach forward, extending your hand to one, and it lands on your finger, flapping its wings gently.

“You’re getting really good at that,” Garrick says quietly, sitting down on the step above you.

Five years living as siblings has attuned him to your emotions -- he knows that something is wrong, that something had been wrong even before you were sent on this suicide mission and lost two of your friends. “Do you want to talk about what happened when I came to get you?”

You really don’t, but the words come out anyway. “I fucked up,” you whisper, still watching the butterflies. The sight of them only reminds you Ridoc, of the soft awe that had lingered in his eyes even after they’d disappeared — until you’d snapped at him. Gods, the look on his face…

You push the thought away, and they fade back into air. “I hurt him, because I was scared.”

“Scared of what?” He asks. There’s no judgment in his tone, just gentleness; he genuinely wants to understand.

“That he was being serious, that he actually likes me,” you answer. “I keep pushing him away, but he keeps coming back, he keeps looking at me like… like I mean something to him, and I don’t understand why. He doesn’t know me, he isn’t one of us, he isn’t even in my squad. There’s no reason for him to care about me.”

Garrick lets your words hang in the air for a moment before he speaks. “I thought it was fitting that you developed an illusion signet.”

You look up, waiting for him to elaborate.

“It took me a full year to figure you out when we met, to realize that the person you really are on the inside doesn’t match the person that you show people. I think he saw right through that perpetual stone-faced look, saw the girl that I’m proud to call a sister.”

“You really think so?” You ask quietly.

“I know so.”

You rest your head against his shoulder, a gesture that he knows is equivalent to a tight embrace from anyone else -- you’ve never been a touchy person.

You’ve never been good at feelings, either. “It’s too damn quiet in this house,” you say after a moment, changing the subject.

He laughs. “It really is.”

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Ridoc is standing in front of you.

You’re relieved at the sight of him, that no terrible fate befell him in the week you’d been away, but you can’t handle the conversation that you need to have, not when you feel like your heart is going to give out.

“I can’t do this right now,” you say, but the words don’t come out as strongly as you’d hoped, not enough air in your lungs to speak properly. “So if you could find somewhere else to be, that would be great.”

In true Ridoc fashion, he isn’t discouraged by your protests, kneeling down next to you. “Can you look at me, sweetheart?”

His seriousness confuses you enough to comply. You raise your chin, stunned at the softness in his eyes -- you’ve never been this close to him before. He’s beautiful.

“I’m gonna check your pulse, okay?”

You nod silently, allowing him to extend a hand toward you. Two fingers press into the side of your neck, feeling for your heartbeat.

He’s never touched you before. His hands are warm.

“Do you know where you are?”

“Basgiath,” you answer easily.

“Good. How long have you been sitting here?”

“I don’t know. Since we got out of formation?”

He realizes exactly what upset you — that must have been your first flight since you got back from War Games with the rest of the marked ones.

“I don’t know what you saw out there, and you don’t need to tell me, but whatever it is, it can’t hurt you right now,” he promises. The genuine sincerity in his voice has the tears falling faster.

Through your blurred vision you see him open his arms, and you lean into them without hesitation. He’s so warm that you can’t help but melt as soon as your skin touches his.

He rubs your back, speaking softly. “You’re okay, pretty girl, you’re safe. Just breathe with me, okay?”

You attempt to match the even pace of his chest rising and falling against yours, deepening your shuddering breaths.

“That’s it,” he soothes. “You’re doing great.”

Grief comes flooding out of you, and you clutch at the fabric of his flight jacket to remain upright. “I miss them so much,” you sob. “They didn’t deserve to die.”

Liam and Soleil, the two marked ones that hadn’t come back with you.

“I know, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”

He continues to rub your back, murmuring soft reassurances to you until your grip on him has loosened and your breathing has slowed.

You’ve relaxed, your heart no longer pounding as it had been when he found you, but you still don’t want him to go, you couldn’t bear it if he left right now. “Stay?” You ask in a small voice.

“Of course,” he answers, pulling back to sit beside you. “As long as you need.”

Your tears have dried, leaving you with a headache and a hollow feeling in your sinuses. “Why did you help me?” You ask quietly, looking out at the river.

He wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Because it was the right thing to do. And because I can’t stand to see pretty girls cry.”

“Of course you’re back to cracking jokes already.”

“I’ve never been joking with you,” he says, shaking his head. “I meant every word I said to you, sweetheart. You’re beautiful, but you’re so much more than that, too. You’re capable, strong, witty, kind, caring, gentle… everything about you is good, and I wish that people would see past the relic on your arm and realize that.”

You blink at him, stunned.

“It’s true,” he says softly. “When you smiled at me that day at challenges, I knew that there was a soft heart under all that steel.”

A soft heart. A sweet heart.

There’s a moment of quiet while you work up the courage.

“Is that pasta place still there?”

He laughs, perhaps a little too loudly, but you’ve grown to love that sound, and the way it shakes his chest is comforting, like the rumble of a thunderstorm when you’re safe and dry indoors. “I think so.”

“Wanna go there tomorrow? Together?”

He grins from ear to ear. “Are you asking me out right now, sweetheart?”

You look over at him. “Yeah. I am.”

“This is going in the diary too, for the record.”

You can’t help but laugh, leaning back against him. If only for a moment, your anxiety has melted away.

You feel like you could face anything, as long as you have Ridoc to come home to.

#ridoc gamlyn #fourth wing #ridoc gamlyn x reader #fourth wing x reader #mine #Ridoc and Sweetheart

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teriri-sayes · 2 months

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Reactions to Chaos Creator's Chapter 253

TL;DR - Horns becomes Cale's spy. Cale gives assignments to his group. Cale's group meets the wolf chieftain, Jesse.

Double Agent Horns Horns called Pope Kesilia and told her everything that happened. But he lied about one thing - that he betrayed them in order to act as their spy on Cale's group. In reality, he was Cale's spy on the church.

Of course, Cale did not fully trust him yet, so he assigned three people to accompany Horns when he returned to the church. And those three were... Clopeh, Hannah, and Rasheel. 😂

Cale thought his assignment was good because Clopeh was good at politics, Hannah was knowledgeable in church affairs, and Rasheel was a dragon who could threaten the church in case something goes wrong. But CJS had the same thought as us, readers. Those three were... "destructive." 🤣🤣🤣

Dragon Names Last chapter, I complained about Past Dragon being unnamed. Fortunately, the author finally named him. His name was Zopf. MTL called him Chop or Chope, but frankly, that sounded weird, so I won't use it. Zopf is a type of Swiss, Austrian, and German bread. Past Dragon's name uses the same Korean word for Zopf, so I'll be using this one.

We also got the names of two other dragons.

Ryan - 1st Star, God of Domination, King of Beasts, Horns's biological father

Exion - 3rd Star, God of the Earth, strongest of the Three Stars

The Korean word used for Ryan is also the same for the word "lion", so you can say this is a pun because a lion is the king of beasts.

Group Assignments

Advance meeting with Pope Kesilia - Horns, Clopeh, Hannah, and Rasheel

Find CJG - Sui Khan, Zopf, Mila, Choi Han, Choi Jung Soo

Meet the source of the world/Aipotu - Cale, Raon, Wisha, Lock

The advance meeting group... Just wow. Clopeh is going? To meet a pope? Next thing we know, Pope Kesilia will convert from a dragon worshipper to a Caleism worshipper. 🤣🤣🤣

I thought Sui was going alone and not letting CH and CJS go with him, but I was wrong. Sui personally said the two should go with him too, and Cale agreed to it. Zopf would guide them, and Mila was going too because of Cale's distrust of Aipotu dragons. Cale still felt annoyed about Maxi placing a heavy burden on Raon.

Wisha would be guiding Cale and Raon to the source of the world, aka Aipotu. Lock was suddenly invited to go too because the path leading to the source of the world was located in the lair of Ryan, the King of Beasts.

The Aipotu wolf beast tribe worshipped the Blue Wolf as a god. The Blue Wolf gifted them "reason" in return, so that they could maintain reason when they undergo berserk transformation. But the Dragon Lord and 1st Star Ryan destroyed all the divine items of Blue Wolf, so the Aipotu wolf beast tribe lost their reason when in their berserk forms.

The worst part was that even when the berserk form was gone, their reason did not fully return. They slowly lose to their instincts the more they used their berserk forms.

1st Star Ryan was said to be a Blue Wolf-wannabe, so Cale asked Lock, whom the Aipotu beast wolf tribe feared and respected, to go with him. Hmm... is this foreshadowing of a possible battle between Ryan and Lock?

Ending Remarks So many new dragon names today. But no DHB naming scene... 🥲Next chapter would probably be Cale's trip to meet Aipotu.

#tcf spoilers #trash of the count's family

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thegnomelord · 4 months

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Ripping the sheets at the thought of prompt #25 with Draconic Price with Mage!reader who can't handle alcohol that well ❤️‍🩹

Sure thing anon, sorry it took so long getting to your prompt 😅 Play the game HERE

Prompt: Drunken confessions

CW: SFW, GN reader, Monster AU, Gn Reader, Dragon Price drinking, drunk confessions, fluff.

To say you're a lightweight is to say the sky's blue. It's an endless source of amusement to the lads; all they have to do is sit back after a stressful mission, give you booze, and watch the fireworks — literally, when your magic sparks across the bar, little sparks crackling along the ceiling, growing wilder with each shot you take down.

Price smirks behind the rim of his beer as he watches you and Soap knock back shots of liquor in a drinking game, not even trying to understand the slurred tangent you're on; mages are nerds at heart, and the booze has melted your tough guy act and leaving you rambling on about the intricacies of magic. It's one of the things he likes about you, how passionate you are; a good treasure to keep in his hoard.

But Price figures it's time for you to go when you nearly set a trashcan on fire in the corner, your vision long since doubling, the alcohol burning in your mind so strongly a bit of your original eye color peeks out beneath the unnatural glow of mana in your eyes.

"Come on you muppet," He signs, tugging you up by the back of your clothing like you're a wet kitten. You whine and attempt to struggle, but his draconic strength far surpasses yours. "It's far past your bed time." He adds, a little rumble in the back of his throat making liquid heat pool in your belly.

"But captain-" You grumble, the world spinning like a kaleidoscope as Price pulls you out of the bar, enough sense in your brain to throw a middle finger at the rest of your team when they wolf whistle and holler.

"Not a pipe out of you." Price sighs, wing stretching out like a shroud around your back, trying not to pay attention to the way his draconic blood sings when you lean in close; trying not to think how well you fit against him, like a treasure he can hoard. "C'mon, I'll drive you home."

You mumble a few curses under your breath as he helps you into the passenger seat of his car, your inhibitions so lowered so that when he leans over to buckle your seatbelt you tilt your head, burying your nose into his neck and taking in his scent, the smell of musk and cigar smoke filling your senses. Price does his best to reign in his draconic blood, a flash flood of desire burning in his head.

"Easy there mage," He huffs and shakes his head, pushes you back into a seat with an amused snort, settling into the car. The drive back to base is like a blur to you, spent rambling about something even you can't remember as Price just hums in acknowledgement, occasionally having to swat away your wandering hands trying to grope his thigh.

Price has to carry you to your room as you're so drunk you can't stand straight, head nodding as you slowly fall asleep in the car before you even reach the gates. Price tries not to think of how well you fit in his arms as he hoists you up, holding you close to his chest. You head ends up laying on his chest, face buried in his neck.

"Hey cap?" You mumble against his skin, squirming a bit as he carries you.

"Yes?" He asks, heart beating just a little faster as you clumsily wrap your arms around his neck. You mumble something into skin, so soft and low even his advanced hearing can't pick it up, making his ears strain to hear you as he enters your room. "You need to speak up there, mage."

"I love you cap." You slur, so honest and loving, and Price nearly topples over, feet catching on a random piece of junk you've got strewn around your room. But you choose that exact moment to squirm and he ends up tossing you onto your bed, your hangs clutching him tight and pulling him down too.

"Fuck-you bloody muppet!" Price grows, shifting to put the tension off his wing from how awkwardly he'd landed. He attempts to get up, but you're stronger than you look when you want to be, clinging to him like a little koala with your arms and legs wrapped around him.

"Nooo-" You whine, burying your head into his chest, squeezing your arms when you feel his skin is as warm as yours, your mana and dragon fire so similar it's like there's no barrier between your chests. "Mhm, love you John," You say again, making his head short circuit for a few moments, draconic instincts sparking up, wing and tail wrapping around you.

"You-" He sighs as he catches himself, embarrassment blooming in his chest at how he's acting like a young welp. By the time he's calmed down, you've already fallen asleep and using his pecs like a pillow, snoring lightly as you drool over his chest.

"You. . ." Price hums, a small smile tugging on his lips. He shuffles in an attempt to get comfortable, your bed isn't made to house two people but you're cuddled up to him so closely it's like you two are one person. "Bloody mage." He huffs under his breath, his clawed hands carding through your hair, sharp fingers scratching your scalp.

A happy little rumble leaves his chest when you nuzzle closer, your body so warm thanks to the mana in your system. It feels. . . nice, more than nice, his draconic ancestry purrs in his ears and he pulls you closer so your head rests buried in his neck, your and his scents mixing together.

Chances are you won't remember any of this. Chances are you'll deny your words, say it was just belligerent nonsense. But for now you love him, and he leans in to nuzzle his cheek against your hair, big burly arms wrapping around your middle, whispering lowly in your ear— a statement. "Love you too, you muppet."

#Gnome's Prompt Game #cod mw2 #x reader #gnome correspondence #trinkets from the hoard #captain john price #captain john price x reader #john price x gn!reader #gn reader #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod modern warfare

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