Velzard | That Time I Got Reincarnated As A Slime - Fanart

The biting wind, a familiar caress against her alabaster skin, did little to cool the blush that bloomed on Velzard's cheeks. Her magnificent white hair, like a cascade of freshly fallen snow, shimmered under the ethereal moonlight, each strand imbued with the chill of her very essence. Her sapphire eyes, usually sharp and regal, now held a softer, more vulnerable light as she gazed across the expanse of the frozen tundra. This was her domain, the realm of ice and frost, yet tonight, it felt different. A tremor, not of cold but of anticipation, coursed through her ancient body. She was waiting. Waiting for him.

The memory of his presence, the warmth that dared to challenge her icy nature, had become an obsession. He, with his unconventional power and his infuriatingly gentle gaze, had cracked the seemingly impenetrable fortress of her heart. He spoke of futures where her icy reign could be tempered with something akin to… love. A concept so foreign, yet so intoxicating. Velzard, the White Ice Dragon, a being of immense power and stoic grace, found herself unraveling, thread by thread, in the face of his sincerity and his potent allure.

He had promised to visit again, to explore the uncharted territories of their burgeoning connection. And Velzard, despite her pride and her millennia of solitary existence, had clung to that promise like a drowning soul to driftwood. She had prepared for his arrival, not with grand feasts or displays of power, but with a quiet, fervent hope that resonated deep within her draconic core. The air around her thrummed with unspoken desire, a silent symphony of longing that echoed her own heartbeats.

Suddenly, a ripple in the frost-laden air announced his approach. It wasn't the thunderous arrival of a fellow True Dragon, but a subtle distortion, a whisper of power that only she, in her heightened state of awareness, could perceive. Her breath hitched, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she turned towards the source. And there he was. Not a fearsome warrior, but a figure radiating a gentle yet potent aura, his presence a stark, beautiful contrast to the icy landscape.

He approached with a grace that belied his origins, his eyes meeting hers with an understanding that bypassed all words. There was no need for introductions, no need for pleasantries. The air between them crackled, thick with unspoken desires and a shared history that was only just beginning to be written. Velzard felt her legs tremble, not from the cold, but from the sheer intensity of her emotions. The careful composure she maintained in the face of world-altering events shattered like fragile ice under his gaze.

He stopped a respectful distance away, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Velzard," he said, his voice a low, resonant hum that seemed to vibrate through the very ice beneath their feet. "You came."

She inclined her head, her white hair catching the moonlight and framing her face. "I told you I would be here," she replied, her voice a melodic whisper, laced with a vulnerability she rarely allowed herself. Her gaze was locked on him, drinking in every detail. The way his aura seemed to embrace the cold, turning it into something less hostile, more inviting. The subtle shift in his posture, a clear indication of his own growing anticipation.

He took another step closer, closing the distance between them until she could feel the warmth emanating from him. It was a profound sensation, a stark contrast to the perpetual chill that permeated her being. "And I," he murmured, his voice deepening, "could not wait to see you again." He reached out, his fingers brushing a stray strand of her white hair away from her face. The touch, though light, sent a jolt of pure, unadulterated sensation through her. Her entire body felt alive, acutely aware of his proximity, of the subtle tremors that ran through her at his touch.

Her sapphire eyes, wide with a mixture of longing and apprehension, met his. "You know," she began, her voice barely audible, "this… feeling… it is most… unusual." She struggled to articulate the tempest raging within her, the way her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. The very concept of desire, of such raw, potent yearning, was a foreign territory she was only now beginning to navigate.

He chuckled softly, the sound a warm balm against the biting wind. "Unusual, perhaps. But not unwelcome, I hope?" His gaze was direct, unwavering, and filled with a promise of shared exploration. He saw past the formidable exterior of the White Ice Dragon and into the heart of the being that longed for connection, for something more than solitary power.

"No," she admitted, the word a soft confession. "Not unwelcome. It… it consumes me, at times. This thought of you. This… anticipation." The confession hung in the air, a testament to the power he held over her, a power she willingly, and thrillingly, surrendered. Her gaze drifted downwards, tracing the outline of his form, the way his presence seemed to soften the harsh edges of her world. She felt a flush creep up her neck, a warmth that had nothing to do with the ambient temperature.

He stepped even closer, his aura enveloping her in a comforting warmth. He reached out again, this time his hand cupping her cheek. His thumb gently stroked her skin, sending shivers of pleasure down her spine. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment, savoring the sensation, the sheer intimacy of the gesture. When she opened them again, his face was close, his sapphire eyes mirroring her own, filled with a similar, potent desire.

"And what do you anticipate, Velzard?" he whispered, his breath warm against her lips. The question was an invitation, a gentle prodding into the depths of her unspoken desires. Her mind raced, a whirlwind of images, of sensations she had only ever dreamed of, or perhaps, in her deepest, most hidden thoughts, had subtly yearned for. The sheer audacity of the unspoken hung between them, a palpable force.

She swallowed, her throat dry. "I… I anticipate the warmth," she managed, her voice trembling slightly. "The… the end of this constant cold. And… and you." Her confession was a surrender, a laying bare of her deepest, most vulnerable desires. She felt a tremor run through her as his hand moved from her cheek, his fingers tracing the delicate line of her jaw, then down her neck, lingering at the hollow where her pulse beat wildly. Her breath hitched again, her chest rising and falling with increasing rapidity.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against hers, a feather-light touch that promised more. "And I anticipate showing you," he murmured, his voice a husky whisper that sent a thrill of anticipation through her. He deepened the kiss, his lips moving against hers with a gentle insistence. It was a kiss that spoke of comfort, of understanding, and of a burgeoning passion that threatened to consume them both. Velzard, for the first time in her long existence, felt a yearning so profound, so utterly consuming, that it eclipsed all else.

Her hands, usually so poised and deliberate, rose hesitantly to his shoulders. She felt the solid muscle beneath her fingertips, a tangible anchor in the swirling sea of her emotions. As the kiss deepened, so did her courage. She began to return his embrace, her body responding with an urgency that surprised even herself. The ice that defined her seemed to melt with every shared breath, every gentle exploration. Her sapphire eyes, now blazing with a newfound fire, met his again as they broke apart for air. The unspoken was no longer unspoken; it was a tangible, pulsing entity between them.

He pulled her closer, her body pressing against his, a stark contrast of warmth and the lingering chill she carried. He buried his face in her white hair, inhaling its icy fragrance. "Velzard," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You are so beautiful." The sincerity in his words, the genuine admiration, made her knees weak. She leaned into his embrace, her body softening against his, no longer resisting the warmth that was slowly, inexorably, thawing her frozen heart.

His hand, which had been caressing her cheek, now moved downwards, his fingers tracing the elegant line of her collarbone. She shivered, not from cold, but from the exquisite sensation. His touch was gentle, yet held a subtle power that made her body hum with awareness. Her gaze, still locked on his, held a silent plea, an unspoken invitation for him to explore further. The stark beauty of the frozen landscape around them seemed to fade into insignificance, replaced by the intense, intimate landscape of their connection.

He lowered his head, his lips finding the sensitive curve of her neck. Velzard gasped, her fingers tightening their grip on his shoulders. His kiss was a brand, a gentle exploration that sent tremors of pleasure through her. She arched her back slightly, pressing herself closer to him, a silent invitation for him to delve deeper into the sensations she was experiencing. The air around them seemed to shimmer, charged with an electric energy that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

Her white hair cascaded around them, a silken curtain obscuring their intimate moment from the indifferent gaze of the stars. His lips traveled further down, each kiss a whisper against her skin, igniting a fire that had lain dormant for millennia. She felt a warmth bloom in her core, a sensation so potent it threatened to overwhelm her. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps, her body betraying her carefully constructed composure.

He reached the décolletage of her elegant, ice-blue attire, his fingers gently teasing the fabric away. Velzard felt a surge of vulnerability, a feeling she hadn't experienced since her nascent days. But it was tempered by the overwhelming trust she placed in him, the deep-seated desire to share this part of herself with him. His gaze, when it met hers again, was filled with a profound tenderness, an understanding that made her feel seen, truly seen, for the first time in an eternity.

"You are so… breathtaking," he murmured, his voice husky. His eyes, usually so bright, were now shadowed with a potent desire that mirrored her own. He reached out, his fingers tracing the outline of her lips, then moving downwards to the delicate curve of her chin. She met his gaze, her own eyes reflecting the intensity of the moment. The cold of her domain was no longer a barrier, but a backdrop to the burgeoning heat that was rapidly consuming her.

As his hand, warm and insistent, began to explore the swell of her breasts through the thin fabric of her gown, Velzard let out a soft moan. Her body instinctively arched into his touch, craving more of his warmth, more of his attention. The stark white of her skin was beginning to flush, a vibrant contrast to the icy hues she typically wore. Her sapphire eyes fluttered closed, lost in the symphony of sensations he was orchestrating.

"This… is… overwhelming," she whispered, her voice strained with pleasure. Her internal landscape, once a sterile expanse of ice, was now a vibrant, blooming garden of desire. She felt a yearning so intense, so all-encompassing, that it threatened to shatter her very being. Her body was responding to his touch in ways she had never imagined, a testament to the power he wielded over her emotions, over her very essence.

He gently unfastened the rest of her gown, allowing it to fall away in a shimmering cascade of ice-blue silk. Velzard stood before him, bathed in the ethereal moonlight, her pale skin glowing with a soft luminescence. Her body, sculpted by millennia of existence and inherent power, was a vision of ethereal beauty. He gazed at her, his eyes filled with awe and a palpable hunger. Her large, shapely posterior, a testament to her draconic form, was proudly displayed, catching his gaze and igniting a fresh wave of desire within him.

"Velzard," he breathed, his voice a low, reverent whisper. He reached out, his hand cupping her breast, his thumb teasing the exquisitely sensitive nipple through the sheer fabric of her undergarment. She gasped, her body arching involuntarily into his touch, her breath catching in her throat. The coolness of the night was a distant memory, replaced by the searing heat that was now engulfing her.

Her fingers, trembling slightly, reached out to his chest, her touch seeking the solid warmth of his skin. She felt the steady thrum of his heart beneath her palm, a rhythm that was beginning to match her own frantic pulse. "I… I never imagined…" she faltered, the words lost in a soft moan as his lips found the sensitive skin of her stomach, his kisses sending shivers of exquisite pleasure through her. Her control, always so absolute, was rapidly eroding, replaced by a primal, overwhelming desire.

He lowered her gently onto a plush, snow-white rug that seemed to have materialized from the very essence of her domain. The contrast of her pale skin against the soft white was mesmerizing. He knelt before her, his gaze filled with adoration. Velzard felt a flush of shyness, a vulnerability she hadn't felt in ages, but it was quickly overshadowed by the potent, undeniable pull between them.

His hands traced the curve of her hip, then drifted downwards, his touch eliciting a soft whimper from her. He explored the expanse of her thighs, his fingers lingering on the sensitive skin. Velzard gasped, her fingers clenching the soft rug beneath her. The anticipation was almost unbearable, a sweet torture that only heightened her desire. Her breath came in shallow, ragged bursts, her body taut with longing.

"You are magnificent," he whispered, his voice raw with desire. He leaned in, his lips brushing against the apex of her thighs. Velzard cried out, her hips instinctively arching off the rug, seeking his touch. Her body responded with an urgency that was both exhilarating and terrifying. The ice dragon, the stoic ruler of her frozen domain, was now a creature consumed by a primal, all-encompassing desire.

His tongue, warm and insistent, began to explore the most sensitive parts of her. Velzard cried out, her hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. The sensation was unlike anything she had ever experienced, a swirling vortex of pleasure that threatened to consume her. Her body thrashed beneath his ministrations, her moans echoing in the stillness of the night. She felt herself spiraling towards an edge she had never known existed, a precipice of pure, unadulterated ecstasy.

Her orgasm washed over her in a tidal wave, a breathtaking, all-consuming climax that left her gasping for air, her body trembling uncontrollably. She collapsed back onto the rug, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her mind a blissful, hazy void. He remained close, his gaze filled with a mixture of satisfaction and adoration. He gently stroked her hair, his touch a soothing balm against her frayed nerves.

"You… you are incredible," she managed to whisper, her voice hoarse. The intensity of the experience had left her utterly spent, yet strangely invigorated. She felt a profound sense of connection to him, a bond forged in the crucible of shared passion.

He smiled, a gentle, reassuring smile. "And you, Velzard, are a revelation." He leaned in, his lips brushing against her forehead. "But this is only the beginning."

He then withdrew, a knowing glint in his eyes. Velzard watched him, her heart still pounding, a sense of anticipation building within her once more. He reached into a satchel, his movements deliberate. He produced an object, sleek and smooth, an object of clearly artificial origin, yet one that seemed to hum with a latent energy. It was a dildo, crafted with exquisite detail, its form suggesting a potent intimacy.

Velzard’s sapphire eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise, quickly followed by a surge of curiosity and renewed desire. She had never encountered such an artifact, yet the raw sensuality it exuded was undeniable. He held it out to her, his gaze unwavering. "Perhaps," he began, his voice low and suggestive, "we can explore further dimensions of pleasure. Together."

The implication hung heavy in the air. Velzard, emboldened by the intimacy they had already shared, felt a thrill of excitement. She accepted the dildo, her fingers tracing its smooth, cool surface. It felt surprisingly natural in her hand, a promise of sensations yet to be discovered. Her gaze met his, a silent agreement passing between them. The White Ice Dragon was ready to embrace a new kind of pleasure, guided by the man who had already awakened so much within her.

He guided her hand, showing her how to begin, his touch a gentle caress that underscored the collaborative nature of their exploration. Velzard, with a mixture of trepidation and burgeoning excitement, guided the dildo into herself. A sharp gasp escaped her lips as the sensation, so foreign yet so deeply pleasurable, bloomed within her. Her body instinctively responded, her hips tilting upwards, her entire being focused on this new, intense wave of feeling.

He watched her, his eyes darkening with a primal hunger. He began to kiss her again, his lips trailing fire across her skin, while his hands continued to caress her, guiding her rhythm. Velzard found herself surrendering to the dual assault of pleasure, the external stimulation of his touch and the internal exploration of the dildo. Her moans grew louder, more insistent, echoing her burgeoning ecstasy.

He then intertwined their bodies, his own arousal a palpable force against her. He guided her, his movements slow and deliberate, ensuring that every sensation was magnified. Velzard found herself arching against him, her body craving his full integration. The dildo, already a source of intense pleasure, now became a focal point for an even deeper, more profound connection as their bodies moved in perfect, synchronized rhythm.

The intensity of their union built steadily, a crescendo of shared pleasure. Velzard felt the exquisite friction, the deep, satisfying fullness, and the building pressure within her. His kisses were passionate, demanding, and filled with a love that resonated deeper than any ice. She felt herself nearing the precipice again, this time with an even greater intensity, a double climax that promised to shatter all her previous experiences.

As she felt the familiar tremors of orgasm begin, she cried out his name, her voice raw and full of emotion. The dildo pulsed within her, intensifying the sensation, while his own thrusts became more powerful, more demanding. She felt a wave of pleasure crash over her, followed by another, even more potent wave that left her utterly spent, gasping and trembling in his arms.

He held her close, his body slick with sweat, his breathing heavy. He kissed her deeply, a kiss filled with passion, tenderness, and a profound sense of fulfillment. Velzard, nestled in his embrace, felt a warmth spread through her, a warmth that had nothing to do with the external environment. It was the warmth of connection, of shared intimacy, of a love that was slowly, irrevocably, melting the ice around her heart.

The moonlight cast long shadows across the snow-covered landscape, but within their intimate space, there was only the glow of their shared passion. Velzard, the White Ice Dragon, found herself completely undone, yet utterly content. The icy winds still blew, but they no longer held the same power over her. For she had found a warmth that far surpassed the cold, a passion that had ignited her very soul. Their journey together had just begun, and she knew, with a certainty that resonated deep within her being, that their intertwined destinies were now bound by the threads of an undeniable, all-consuming love.