#nicadilly | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

consul-valerius · 3 years

Text

Kinktober Day 9: Oviposition

A/N: Going back to my roots with a Valerius/Valdemar fill. I feel like it's actually illegal not to use them for an oviposition fill, and I need to contribute to the fics of them laying some eggs <33 and stereotypical "demon is in heat" sorta deal lmao big big inspo from @nicadilly and their final form Valdemar designs 👀

Pairing: Valdemar x Valerius

W/C: 3351

Rating: 18+ 🍋🔞 [MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

Summary: Fed up with Valdemar's changed behavior, Valerius goes directly to their estate to confront them. Things take a very different turn than he had expected.

Contains: slight humiliation/degradation; tentacles; non-human anatomy; monster x human; vaginal and anal penetration [fingering and sex]; biting

Valerius tapped his foot, his impatience growing more and more. First, they skip out on not one but two meetings in a row. Then they refuse to respond to any of his correspondence. And now they force him to wait for their presence as if he didn’t have several other, high-stake issues to deal with? Did his title mean nothing? It often felt like it didn’t. Acting Count of Vesuvia—more like Count of Ruins, Count of Clowns.

“Consul.”

Valerius all but screamed at hearing Valdemar’s voice behind him. Damn them—how were they always so silent? He quickly rose to greet them, smoothing down his braid. They were standing away from him near the opposite wall, arms tightly folded behind their back. Valerius had to stop himself from making a face; they looked… off. Or rather, something felt off, felt fake, felt forced.

“Quaestor,” he spoke, giving them a curt bow. He extended his hand, waiting for them to step in and take it. They didn’t move. Miffed, he balled his hand into a fist before keeping it at his side. Gods, he needed a drink. “Your presence has been missed.”

“I sent over one of my little busy bees,” Valdemar replied, voice stiffer than usual. “I believed they would be adequate.”

Valerius felt his cheeks flush. They were being so rude; yes, Valdemar was off putting and normally didn’t follow social norms, but they were never rude. He stepped forward, growing annoyed over the space between them. He blinked as the physician stepped back, away from him.

“For handing over paperwork and reading reports, perhaps, but I require your insight on several matters.” Valerius tried to keep his tone neutral, tried not to let his anger slip out. He knew better than to get into an argument with Valdemar of all people. “Have you not gotten my letters?”

“I… have.” They spoke as if it pained them; they kept eye contact with him as he spoke, but even that seemed forced.

“And yet you have not responded? Surely you can see how this is an issue, Quaestor.” With every step he took, Valdemar either flinched or tried to step away. What was all of this? This was unusual behavior—and that was saying a lot when talking of Valdemar. “What is the meaning of this—”

“I am unwell,” they spoke quickly, hands darting out as if to push Valerius back. He stopped in his tracks, eyes wide. “I could not possibly come to the palace in such a state. Nor could I see you privately.”

Valerius was suddenly seized by the instinct to run; the plague had not been an issue since Lucio’s death, but Valdemar had been working so closely with all of the victims. As if reading his mind, they shook their head stiffly, forcing a stiff, toothy smile on their face.

“No, no, not like that.” They let out an ingenuine laugh, as if they were mimicking what the sound should be. Valerius winced, his worry still present. “I have… I am just. Not well.”

“Valdemar,” Valerius spoke again, his tone harshening. “No one is feeling well. If you are not sick, then what is wrong ?”

Honestly, the nerve of them. When was the last time he had gotten a good night’s rest? Been able to hold down a meal? Not felt pained by a headache or a backache or cramps in his hands? Unwell? He barely registered that he was stepping towards them again, unhindered by how they stepped away, by how their sweet expression quickly switched to that of anger, of worry.

“Don’t come near me—”

“Are you sick or not? Which is it?” Valerius spat, easily closing the space between them. Valdemar backed up into one of the bookshelves lining the room, a hand still poised to push Valerius away. “I am sick of yours and all the others’ games. I am sick of your lack of respect, your lack of care, your lack of responsibility—”

Valerius’s voice died in his throat, mouth still agape. Valdemar let out a pained noise, turning their face away. He at first just registered the smell; it was sweet, nauseatingly sweet, like a florist gone mad. But then he felt a creeping, slick sensation tightening around his waist, pulling him in closer. Valdemar pressed their hands—were they trembling?—to his chest, trying to push him back. And he wanted to step back, didn’t want to invade their space like this, but he was being pulled forward by… by…

“What is this?” Valerius cried out, placing both his hands on either side of Valdemar’s face in an attempt to push himself away. It only succeeded in pinning Valdemar to the wall; they looked mortified and furious all at once, and yet it was their tendrils that were pulling Valerius so close to them, their tendrils slipping from their coat to grab at him. They were inky and dripping, wiggling with life. Valerius felt sickened, felt like running all over again, but he was kept into place. “Wh…What is the meaning of this? What are you doing to me?”

“I told you that I was unwell, you petulant man,” Valdemar hissed, digging their fingers into Valerius’s cloak. The smell was overwhelming; Valerius felt something akin to being buzzed, his breathing becoming shallow. Were they blushing? Why were they refusing to look at him any longer? What had come over them? “I told you to keep away. Now look… look at what you’ve done…”

Oh. Oh.

Valerius felt his face grow hotter; he was suddenly very aware of his own erection, of the way it rubbed against Valdemar’s clothed thigh. The tendrils continued to slip out from their coat, clinging and entrapping him tighter and tighter.

“You… You—”

“I told you to stay back!” Valdemar was now hissing into his face; their voice had turned shrill, needy. Valerius had to bite down on his lip, had to try to steady his breathing as they slipped their knee between his legs. “I don’t want to be like this, to have to debase myself to such… such lowly desires. And with a feeble little human like you, no less.”

Valerius’s grip on the bookshelf tightened, indignation welling in his gut. He opened his mouth to retort, to insult them right back. He was silenced as Valdemar cupped his face between both of their gloved hands, stroking along his cheekbones. They were studying him, taking in each of his features. Indignation melted into bashfulness; they had never looked at him like that before.

“But… But, but, but I suppose you are the perfect candidate.” Their large eyes were so wide and glossy. A smile was beginning to tug at their lips, their cheeks darkening. Gods, they were unnervingly pretty up close. Long eyelashes, scattered freckles, thin, pursed lips… This was unfair, unreal. He could understand their resentment perfectly. “You want me to sit and pretend we care about petty city melodramas? You want my attention? Then do this small, trifling favor for me. It is not unlike what our dearly departed count asked of you before, is it not?”

It all moved so quickly. Valdemar was suddenly on their back on the floor, their coat and clothing tattered as their tendrils sprouted upward from their chest. The tendrils tore off Valerius’s clothes, leaving him nude and trembling. Valdemar guided him between their legs, any anger vanished from their features. It was clear that their pride was still hurt, that they were annoyed, but their ire was no longer towards Valerius.

“You are a pretty one, aren’t you?” they mused; Valerius couldn’t tell if they were impressed or disappointed in making such a comment. “Better you than some oaf, I suppose. Or to sit and wallow alone…”

Their tone trailed off as if they were reminiscing. They trailed their gloved finger down Valerius’s chest, feeling against each bump of his ribs. He squirmed, unsure what he should be doing, if he was even allowed to touch them. Their movements were methodical, analytical; it was so much different than sleeping with some nobleman, and yet Valerius did not hate it.

“What do—”

“Let me take the lead,” Valdemar cut him off, a wicked smile on their face. “You are used to that, aren’t you?”

Valerius raised an eyebrow, ready to retort again. But, once again, his words got caught in his throat as the tendrils began to wrap around his body, pulling him closer to Valdemar. They tightened around his waist and thighs, pulsating and massaging him. They left an inky residue on his skin; it was cold and viscous, and he hated that he loved the new sensation. They slipped up and down his back, raising gooseflesh wherever they touched. Valdemar hummed as they lazily undid his braid, letting his hair loose and framing his face. It tickled their nose; they squinted, giggling.

“You’re… enjoying yourself…” Valerius panted, head hazy. He barely knew what to say to Valdemar on a good day; this was completely new territory. They laughed harder, seemingly thrilled.

“I should make this enjoyable for myself, shouldn’t I? The question is, are you? Your heart is racing. Your face is flushed. You can’t sit still. Your pupils have blown up quite a bit, too.” Valdemar pulled his face closer so their lips were nearly touching, digging their fingers into the back of his neck. “So… Are you?”

They let out a muffled gasp as Valerius’s lips met their own. Their hands slipped to tighten around his shoulders, eyes wide. Valerius groaned into their mouth, teeth grazing Valdemar’s bottom lip. Their eyelids fluttered shut, a broken noise escaping them as they relaxed into the kiss. Valerius situated himself better between their legs, began tugging down their pants as they spread their legs wider for him. Valdemar was shocked he was trying to take control; the only thing they thought he could initiate for himself was pouring a glass of wine.

“What?” Valerius panted into their mouth, his hands sizing up their thin thighs. “No more observations, Quaestor?”

Oh. Oh.

It must have been these awful pheromones. If they were enough to drive Valdemar over the edge, to force them to give in to their more human urges, they should not have been shocked that they were influencing Valerius so heavily. Cycles like this didn’t happen often, Valdemar was glad to admit, but when they did start up it was always hellish. They preferred toughing it out alone, isolating themselves for weeks at a time. But no, no that idiot Lucio had to up and die on them, and now they were expected to do “their job.”

Well, they would be sure to make Valerius’s life just as hellish then.

They took his hand as he kissed along their neck, grinding his hips into theirs. They led it between their thighs, shuddering as his fingers on instinct sought out the wet heat between their legs. He gasped into their skin, shocked at how hot they were; they were pulsing around his fingers, their anatomy not quite human but human enough. Valerius sat up, trying to look, but Valdemar gripped his neck again, forcing him to keep eye contact with them. A small, knowing smile tugged at their lips; they loved how mortified he looked, staring down at them, pinned into place as he curled his fingers into their sex. Even that felt unnatural, felt like an imitation. But they reacted the same as any other person; they titled their head back, biting down on their lip as they shut their eyes.

“You’re so hot,” Valerius whispered, voice filled with a sense of wonder. “You’re like water…”

As if annoyed by this statement, he felt Valdemar tighten around his fingers, showing him that yes, they could have quite a grip too.

“How… how romantic of you, consul,” they huffed, peeking an eye open to glare at him. “Pure poetry.”

Valerius glared down at them, once again fed up with their insults. But still, he felt a smile threatening to break out over his features all the same. He hated that he was having fun, that feeling those slick tendrils tightening and caressing his body felt so good. That being here, fucking the quaestor, would be this exciting.

“I must say,” they continued, voice growing shriller with want. “That fingering me won’t satisfy me. If you could continue, I would appreciate that very much.”

“How impatient,” Valerius huffed, though he hated to admit that even his own erection was becoming uncomfortable. Removing his fingers, he positioned the tip of his cock towards their sex, rubbing his head between their lips. He hissed at how slick they were; it was as if they were pulling him in, swallowing him up. Sighing, he allowed himself to slip inside of them, relishing the heat, the gentle pulsations. Valdemar let out a sharp cry, brows knitting together as they dug their ankles into Valerius’s back, clawing at his shoulders.

He set up a slow, steady pace; he made sure that they would feel every inch of him as he fucked them into the floor, relish the sensation of being filled up by him. Valdemar’s grip on him was bruising, their face twisted in a mix of agitation and pleasure. Even now, they were fighting how good they felt, how good this meek little human was.

“No more critiques, quaestor?” Valerius breathed into their ear, grinning at the way they squirmed. Hissing, Valdemar grabbed his face again, this time initiating a kiss that was all teeth and biting. Their teeth were sharp, and they grazed his bottom lip greedily. It was unspoken: Valdemar wanted him to shut up. Valerius found himself smiling into the kiss, laughing as they nipped and licked at him. “How embarrassing—I think you like me.”

Valdemar dug their nails into him, grinning themself as they bite down properly on his lip, drawing blood. Valerius groaned, trying to pull back on instinct. But Valdemar kept him close, kissed his boo-boo better, rutted their hips up to meet his. They grinded into each other, panting and groaning. Valerius barely noticed those tendrils creeping down his back, squeezing and circling around his ass. He stilled as he felt them dip further, nudging at his entrance.

“What are you—”

“Just take what I am so graciously giving to you, consul.”

Valerius gasped out, flinching as he was suddenly being filled by a thicker tentacle. It was so slick, easily pumping him with fluid as it spread him wider and wider. Valerius trembled, sinking down on Valdemar as they continued to grind into him, grinning at how easily they could reclaim their control over him. Valerius groaned, resting his head between their neck and their shoulder, nuzzling closer to them as they pulled him closer.

The tentacle easily pumped in and out of him, the pace steady and almost mechanical. Valerius, however, was squirming, his thrusts turning frantic and needy. Valdemar sighed, delirious as they scratched at his shoulders, keeping their legs tight around him. Every inch of them felt electrified and wired; pleasure clouded their thoughts. They hated this, hated not being to think clearly, hated only being motivated by feelings, and yet they couldn’t stop it, couldn’t stop grinding up against Valerius, encouraging him to go faster, to go harder. Their tendrils had a life of their own, gripping and stroking along his body, cupping his pecks, curling around his thighs. It was obvious Valerius was lost in his own ecstasy, eyes nearly crossing as he let Valdemar take over.

He barely understood what he was feeling until it was too late; he felt his ass spreading wider, felt something else filling him up. At first, he assumed Valdemar was climaxing, and he had half the mind to tell them off for finishing inside of him. But whatever was entering him now was solid, was round. Gasping, Valerius sat up more, panic on his face.

“What… What are you doing to me?”

Valdemar seemed confused at first, staring up at him blankly. A wicked smile quickly spread across their face; the tentacle pushed further inside of him, filling him up more. Screaming, Valerius doubled over, bringing his face back down into their neck.

“I… I don’t underst—”

“It’s… but a side effect of my current condi-condition,” Valdemar breathed, voice faraway. “I’m sure you… that you understand the reason why animals mate. That’s all this is; a reason why.”

“What… What? You can’t—” But Valdemar silenced him with another kiss, keeping his face tight between their hands. Valerius let out a strangled noise as yet another egg was squeezed out inside of him. His head was spinning, that flowery scent clouding all his senses now more than ever. He realized, absently, that was the point of the scent: to make him delirious and malleable. To make him submit and accept them. Groaning, he could only wince and kiss them back, not thinking of what any of this meant, what was really happening to him. Each egg pressed right up against his prostate; every slight movement had him seeing stars. And Valdemar was wrapped around him so tightly, pulsing around his cock.

“You’re… you’re doing surprisingly well,” Valdemar cooed before wincing themself, flinching as yet another egg was pushed deep inside of him, joining the other two. “Just breathe and think only of how good you feel right now. How good you are for me.”

“Gods! How many… Oh! I... I can’t… no more…”

“Come now, Valerius, be brave for once. You’ve already exceeded my ex—ah!—expectations!” Valdemar arched their back off the floor, their body twitching as Valerius buried himself fully into them. He clung to them, drool slipping from his lips as he whined and writhed into them. The tentacle was unrelenting, depositing eggs into him carelessly. “Just… Just a few more… that’s all I ask…”

“Valde…Valdemar, please—!”

“Just a little more, Valerius!”

Sobbing, Valerius wasn’t sure what to do anymore with his body; everything was so intense, every sensation too much. He felt like he was coming undone, like at any moment he would simply burst. He felt so full, almost painfully so, but whatever fluids Valdemar was pumping into him, whatever smell they were producing, made everything feel good, feel electric. He just felt a steady pressure in his lower gut, felt his own climax creeping so close. He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to finish inside of them, but a bitter part of him realized that they never asked if they could lay their clutch inside of him.

Biting down into their shoulder, he shuddered and spasmed, clinging to them as he steadily pumped himself inside of them. Valdemar screeched, toes curling, as they scratched along his back. They were thankfully wearing gloves, or else he was sure they would tear into his skin. He groaned, feeling the last of their eggs pushed inside of him, filling him completely. There was a wet pop as the tentacle was pulled out of him; Valerius shuddered but could do little else.

Slowly, he peeled himself off of them, rolling to lay on his side. He felt completely drained, his body languid. He was full too, an uncomfortable ache in his belly. He didn’t dare look, didn’t dare do anything except stare at the ceiling and reflect on just what he did in his life for everything to turn out this way. He barely registered how Valdemar nearly instantly popped back up, a content smile on their face as they breathed out a heavy sigh.

“I just knew you would do just fine,” they stated, tone chirper and upbeat. “Even I feel a bit worn out from that.”

“You… You…” Valerius pointed an accusatory finger at them before letting his hand fall to his side, his retort dying in his throat. “Sleep… please.”

“Of course. I must monitor you closely, anyway. Our games aren’t truly over.”

“What… What do you mean—?”

“Hush. I’ll have a servant prepare you a room.”

#the arcana #the arcana (game)#the arcana lemon #consul valerius #quaestor valdemar #valerius x valdemar #science gossip #THEM THEM THEM!!#bottom writes #bottom does kinktober again #kinktober 2021 #lemon

41 notes · View notes