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drustvar · 2 years

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Libet’s Delay || Finale

Starting the midsummer masquerade off with long overdue passionate monsterfucking. (Valdemar x afab reader; no gendered language)

Rating: Explicit (teratophilia, vaginal penetration, messy goo) WC: 2,511 AN: I procrastinated forever on this and for that im sorry but hey. Valdemar finally gets to nut after being blueballed for months.

Full text under the cut and on Ao3 here

As you step inside, it occurs to you that you’ve never seen Valdemar’s quarters. You didn’t think they even had a private room to themselves, after all they had no reason to. For however many years they had lived alone; servants would never dare venture into the basements, or even the floor that preceded it. The room you entered was simple, but elegant. There was a small fireplace and several rows of cabinets, built of the same dark wood as the front doors. The door locks behind you as you take everything in. Valdemar brushes past you, humming quietly. What was most surprising was that there was a bed. A simple wrought iron frame; more or less a slightly larger version of the beds found in infirmaries.

“I thought you didn’t sleep?” You ask as Valdemar picks through a drawer filled with records.

“I don’t have to sleep,” they say. “But that doesn’t mean I never do. It’s my understanding that all creatures, mortal or not, enjoy the occasional nap.” They meet your eyes and smile as they place a record and set the needle. The music that starts to play is quiet, and sounds faintly distorted, as if it was a recorded memory instead of sound. You wonder if it was made that way or if it had simply been played so often it had been worn down. Your eyes drift over the walls as Valdemar starts to search through the shelves of a liquor cabinet, their long fingers passing over faded labels.

The wallpaper is equally as faded, and appears at one time to have had a pattern of some sort, but has since been lost to time. Scattered along the walls are frames, some holding what appear to be small portraits, others have articulated skeletons of small creatures, one holds a bat and the other what you could only guess was a pixie.

“Remove your clothes, little one,” Valdemar says as they press a small flute filled with wine into your hands.

“Oh, right,” you murmur. You’d been so intent on taking in your new surroundings you’d almost forgotten the reason why they’d brought you here. They watch, leaning back against the liquor cabinet as you slip your various trimmings and trappings off, before long you hold a bundle of clothes as you look around, unsure of where to put them.

“On the floor is fine,” they nod at the tile, a faint smile on their thin lips.

“Oh, okay,” you say, letting the clothes drop unceremoniously to the floor. You could already feel a flush beginning to rise on your skin, the heat pooling between your legs as Valdemar circles you, their red eyes eating up every inch of your nude form. You let out a surprised squeak when Valdemar pulls you into their arms from behind you, nestling their chin on your shoulder.

“Have I ever expressed what a delectable specimen you are,” their voice sends shivers down your spine as their hands roam over your body. The faintest whisper of a kiss presses against your jugular, and you sigh as their hands come to rest over your chest. The cold latex of their gloves makes goose pimples rise on your skin and your nipples perk up. You lean against them, letting out a small, whimpering sigh as they brush your pert skin with their cool palms, toying with you just enough to make you squirm.

“Val-”

“Ah, are you cold, pet?” They ask, their breath icy against your skin. “Why not make yourself comfortable under the covers,” they point one of their long fingers at the bed. As much as you’d like to curl up under the blankets, between Valdemar’s touch and the low temperatures of the basement floor, you were freezing. But you didn’t want to leave their arms, you were afraid that if you did, they’d inexplicably vanish. Leaving you alone with that quiet, lonely record.

“Do not be shy. I promise, my bed is quite comfortable.” You obey and slip from their embrace. They were right, their bed was comfortable ‒ when you sit on the edge you practically sink into it. They watch as you flounder for a moment with amusement glittering in their eyes. They sip their own wine slowly, as if they’d never really drunk before and meant it; as if they’d only ever mimicked the action of drinking and not its actual purpose. And wonder of wonders, you watched in awe as they turned away from you and ever so slowly, began to undress. You’d never seen them naked, not even in so much as a bathrobe. They were always covered, crisp white clothes that seemed meticulously and perfectly tailored. You’d sometimes wondered if their clothes were even real, or just an extension of the glamor they used to take on a humanoid form. But apparently not, as layer by layer was slowly stripped away, revealing more and more pale, greenish skin. You could see faint freckles dappling across their shoulders and down their back. It was cute, even if their “bones” seemed to jutt too sharply out of their skin. Pointed, bony angles interrupted by a few seemingly out of place squishy spots, almost as if they hadn’t decided just how they wanted their form to look under their clothes. Your hands itched to roam all over every inch of it. Even if it wasn’t their true self, even this much was something so new, something so vulnerable. Valdemar let out a quiet sigh, and began to undo the bindings of their hennin. That for sure you’d never thought you’d see them without—it had seemed in the time you’d known them, their face and head were something they seemed to have the least control over in terms of hiding with their glamor (although they’d never admit it). Limp, murky colored hair fell down over their shoulders and back as they daintily set down the headpiece on the cabinet.

“Were you expecting horns, perhaps?” They said, smirking as they met your eyes.

You didn’t know what you had been expecting. They seemed so much smaller, more fragile. If it weren’t for the slight deformities in their glamor, you’d have never guessed an eldritch being was standing naked in front of you. And that in itself was strange enough — aside from small, almost breasts, their body was smooth, their anatomy not unlike a mannequin or a porcelain doll. Though you knew that wasn’t quite the case.

“Aren’t you cold,” they asked, the way they moved to sit on the bed was so unnatural, as if their joints could move 360 degrees; watching it made you shiver with anticipation. “Wouldn’t you like to be warm?” They asked, tilting your chin up.

“Yes.” The room was so quiet, even with the distorted record, but even so the needy whisper you spoke in felt louder than it really was.

Valdemar grinned, and easily sent you backwards with a small push to your shoulders. You yelp as you fall back against the pillows, and are then suddenly enveloped in blankets, Valdemar pulling them around both of you as they press you against their chest. The blankets were surprisingly soft and warm, you had expected them to be the same thin linen as the ones on your own bed. Maybe they were, and you were so drunk on the unexpected closeness, the unexpected playfulness of your partner that your brain just made them seem far more wonderful.

Just that would have been fulfilling, your heart felt fuller than it had in weeks. But just snuggling clearly wasn’t all they had had planned. Valdemar’s fingers tangled in your hair, firmly tilting your head back as their lips found your throat. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as their sharp teeth brushed over your veins, slowly moving down from your jaw, their tongue darting out to brush against the dip of your collar, making you shiver. You grabbed desperately at them, trying to touch everything that was so new; the back of their neck, their long hair, it was driving you crazy.

“Patience, patience,” Valdemar’s voice was cool against your hot skin. You whimper as they press a bony knee between your legs for you to grind down on. Soon enough one of their hands slips slowly, torturously down your abdomen to replace their knee. You bury your face against their throat, trying to muffle the small wail you let out when their cold fingers probed you.

“So wet already? My,” they pushed in, making you squirm. “And so frustrated too, how negligent I’ve been.”

Much to your upset, they withdrew their fingers, placing one hand on your shoulder and the other on your hip, rolling you both over.

“Close your eyes,” their command is soft, whispered against your skin. This part was familiar, when they’d reveal part of their true self to properly fuck you. How you wished you could see them, really see them, but anytime you tried had resulted in an intense migraine at best. You obey, relaxing back against the pillows with a sigh. The familiar, wet crackling that sounded like bones being ground in a mortar made you shiver. You knew it was part of their abdomen, just below their ribs and extending to where their genitals would be; were they human, splitting open into a mind bending chasm. You so wished you could see more, see the self they spent so much time hiding. Cool, slick tendrils wrap around your thighs, pulling your legs apart and preventing them from closing; not that you’d have tried.

“So obedient, so pliable,” Valdemar murmurs, their chest pressing against yours. You hadn’t expected this, you had expected that after such heavy petting they would sit back and toy with you like they usually did...but their arms slipped under your torso, hugging you close. Hugging you like a person would. Asra had been right, they wanted to do their best, they really did love you.

“You may open your eyes now,” their voice was a soft and surprisingly warm whisper against your skin. Before you could say anything, one of the tendrils pushed easily inside of you, making you shiver and whine. It quickly thickens, straining wonderfully against your walls. Valdemar’s eyes gleam as they watch you roll your hips and gasp for them. You didn’t think eyes that belonged to something that’s true self was too horrific and unknowing to describe could be so adoring. The tendril starts to piston in and out, slowly and steadily. What’s more, their hips actually move as well, rolling up against your own.

Neither of you speak, but words aren’t really needed. The only sounds are the record, the creaking of the iron bed frame, and the wet sounds of your bodies. You wrap your arms around them and hug them close, your fingers tangling in their murky colored hair. They trace your jaw with their tongue, making you squirm and giggle. The pace is steady and easy, and just as you’re contentedly sighing and relaxing in their arms, a new sensation pulls you back. Another tendril, this one broad and flat like a tongue, laps at your clitoris. Just as it does, the tendril inside picks up speed and morphs, pronounced bumps replacing the smooth texture.

You whine and squirm, trying both to escape the stimulation and seek more of it. Valdemar holds you fast against them, forcing you still.

“You wanted to be close, did you not?” They cluck their tongue at you, their grin almost mocking. “I can’t have you squirming away.”

All you can do is gasp and arch your back as their tendril pumps harder.

“Use your words,” they murmur as one of the other tendrils wrapped around your thighs traces idly down your abdomen.

What do you even say? ‘Thank you, I love you,’ is what you want to say, but with what their tendrils are doing to you you don’t think you could begin to annunciate a full sentence. From the way they’re grinning down at you you’re sure they can already tell they’ve stolen your voice.

“You unravel so easily,” they chuckle and nuzzle into the crook of your neck. The tongue-tendril stops lapping and instead begins to suction, and in doing so completely throws you over the edge. You’re so thankful that your lover is stronger than they look, the way you writhe and scream as they make you cum would surely throw a human partner onto the floor.

As you start to come down you realize the penetrating tendril hasn’t stopped, in fact it's pounding harder and faster. You wonder if this is going to become like some of the trysts you’ve had before, where they push you so far into ecstasy you can’t breathe and your face is tearstained. But no, to your surprise, they jerk forward, bending you both double as the faintest of moans is pressed against your neck as they finish. It's warmer than you were expecting, and as their tendrils withdraw back into their chasm you can feel it seeping out, slimy against the heat of your thighs. It’s filthy, but erotically so. They’re already rolling over and hugging you to their chest, preventing you from getting a glimpse of the mess or of their body. The sound of their heavy breathing is drowned out by the same sound of bones grinding as the chasm in their abdomen seals shut again.

You happily cuddle up to them. This too was something new, post coitus before had usually consisted of praise and head pats, being gently cleaned before being carried to your room and tucked into bed. It was nice, but this was better.

“Are you okay,” you ask as you trace their collarbone.

“I am perfect,” Valdemar murmurs as they take your hand and press their lips to its back. You can’t help but smile. It makes you giddy to see this side of them, a side no one else ever has; one that’s tender and attentive.

“This is nice. That was nice.”

“Even with the mess I’ve made?”

You glance down at where your legs intertwine with theirs. It looks like a case full of india ink has been spilled everywhere.

“Maybe we just use sheets that aren’t white.”

“With enough time we could easily dye these ones.”

“Gross!” You laugh as they nip your neck. You’d never seen them like this; it was everything you could have hoped for.

“Please don’t hesitate to tell me if I’m being forgetful,” they murmur as they cradle you close. “As I said before, this is…very new to me. This connection, these feelings. They can be…frightening, in a way.”

“Yeah, they can be,” you say as you rest your head under their chin.

“But I never want to be neglectful. You’re too dear to me for that,” their voice is soft, almost timid. You take their hand in yours and squeeze it gently.

“You’re dear to me, too. And for what it's worth, I wouldn’t call it neglect. Just a delay.”

#valdemar #arcana valdemar #quaestor valdemar #valdemar/reader #midsummer masquerade #vesuvia after dark #I TOLD YOU GUYS ID FINISH IT !!#to everyone who waited patiently thank you i love you im sending you roses and candies #mine #minors be gone or ill MAUL YOU

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