It's Valentine's day in the fantastical world of Yggdrasil. A world defined by two warring sides in an eternal conflict. Valentine's day is one of the three days a year when that definition is turned on its head, when humanity and monsterkind pretend their ceaseless warring isn't a thing. Goblins are allowed to play with human children, Skeletons find widows and give them a bone, Hellhounds have even been known to find sad loners and lick them until they give out free pets.
For humans, Valentine's day is a break from their crusades, and a friendly reminder that the enemy does in fact have feelings and probably shouldn't be mercilessly tortured before being dispatched. It's not as culturally effective as some would like, especially some monsters, but it's a day of solidarity where everyone is free to get along and even front line adventurers can show some kindness. In fact, they're kinda forced to, attacking the other side on Valentine's day for any reason other than to prevent a crime is punishable by execution.
For monsters…
"Finally a break!" With no small amount of thump, the current lord of darkness plops on her beach lounge chair ass first. A few mass area spells from her vassals and a little mana donated from her high-level stores is enough to beat off the chilling February air and make the beach a warm, thrilling place to be. Her armor is left in the tower, and a casual yet frequent look back in her mind's eye to make sure no one is opportunistically going after the tower heart is all the thought she spares for the normal day's stresses.
Her normally porcelain skin is without defensive sigils today. The common magical thrumming and the vibrant hum of her wrath is unable to be seen or heard. She looks a bit like a snowy angel amidst the sand. Pure and without blemish. Her long legs are stretched out over the end of the chair, her sharp toes playfully drawing circles in the sand, and her narrow features are sharply contrasted with a beautiful smile that hardly threatens anyone with her fangs and triangular teeth.
"I needed this so freaking much." She stretches out using the chair as her surface, cracking her joints nicely and blissfully wiggling. Her magenta hair is cared for with magic and imported products that make it pop like gloss, and her only articles of clothing are her form-fitting bikini and a bra that was measured to perfectly fit her blossomed bosoms without any waste. She needs to show off a little cleavage to get a Valentine's date, she's pretty sure. Not that she's ever gotten one that wasn't forced into it through some political thing one of her advisors did without her knowing. Getting a custom-made bra to really show off what she has without being indecent seemed like a reasonable path to fixing that issue.
As humans flock to the beach she watches on, leaving herself open and enticing, and focusing on them with her lovely red eyes. Eyes that speak of an animal's instinct, an animal's primal urges. Hunger is the best way to describe her fiery orbs, filled with desire and sin.
No matter how long she stares at them, splashing and playing and enjoying the fruits of her magic. No one looks back at her for more than a second,
"Stupid Valentine's day…"
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"Hey, hey miss. Hey Miss!" It's the pestering voice and the small hands prodding her that finally rouses her.
"Foo." She's face first in some sand, her chair to the side, and her first instinct is to blow some of it away. Gently, with a more human amount of wind, lest she hurt whoever is touching her. It's Valentine's day, she's certainly not gonna be the one to break the peace. They might not be able to execute her but in a way that actually makes it worse. She alone could shatter the treaty. "Mmm, what?" She asks, wondering about her current situation.
Somehow, at some point, she must have rolled off her beach chair and decided to rest in the sand. It'd make sense if she was sunbathing, but she can't really tan, so it was more than likely an accident that her defense just didn't think was issue enough to wake her. She's sure she'll be picking sand out of places that should never have sand, for days. "Hey, miss, are you the Dark Lord?" That's a young girl's voice, different from the one that woke her up. Focus lets her feel two sets of hands-on her legs. A young boy and a young girl.
"Mmhmm." She's very careful with her rolling over, and deliberate with her hand pushing her up to look at the prodding forms. Human children are fragile, too delicate and in need of care. They haven't torn through her people and gained levels yet, and that makes them both her favorite kind of human and the kind she needs to treat with the most care No fast movements, no sudden sprouting of her tail in defense or icy glare preparing a powerful spell the likes of which a hero might buckle under. Even her toes cease their idle movements, her claws digging into the beach's ground to hide their natural desires when staring at defenseless humans daring to approach her in her time of rest.
The lowly prey that dares to awaken her is rather small, a blonde mop of hair twirls and twists, the wet dripping alerts her that the girl must have been recently swimming. Freckles adorn her puffy cheeks, and her eyes are a pure blue. The boy isn't much different, though he's a little older. Old enough she can admire the features of the handsome man he'll one day become.
And he will one day become that handsome man, likely a slayer of her people as well. His people paint her as a lying monster, any child that would believe she'd care about the Valentine's day treaty is either disillusioned enough with propaganda to grow up smart and strong, or dumb enough to survive into adulthood on sheer luck.
Either way, their awe-inspired looks into her eyes are fascinating. Adults fold and run when she stares directly, entire armies have crumbled at the last moment and forewent their invasion to avoid the wrath her bloody orbs promise.
Yet here they are, amazed and fascinated. Children are pure. She fixes them with a benevolent smile, and springs her tail as proof of her lineage, letting the somewhat glazed appendage wave behind her tilting head. "I am the current incarnation of chaos and evil. Who might you be?" Her tone is soft, caring. She'll be a good mother someday, she's sure. She wonders if her children will have cute features like theirs.
"Ah-we're the great-grandchildren of the heroine Emilita!" They cheer. Happily waving back at her tail, and childishly missing the ice that freezes her smile. Her heart dies a little, and she reaches forward to pat the twins on the head and ruffle their silky hair, forgetting about her claws entirely in the cold. They don't seem to mind, and she's glad to note even frozen she's careful enough to gently caress someone soft and fragile with blades without a worry. "We wanna be just like her when we grow up, so we gotta learn your face."
"Emilita…" Well, there goes her mood. She takes a deep breath and forcefully warms her features again. Eyeing them both carefully. It's Valentine's day. "That's, a fantastic goal." If they notice the waver in her voice they don't comment. Something she's very grateful for. She doesn't think she can take the hit to her ego right now. "Get a good look, someday we'll be in combat."
"Mmhmm!" They both nod rapidly, and she has to carefully lift the blades she calls claws away from their scalp as they do, something she does with more compassion than that black-hearted demon held in her entire soul. "We can't wait!"
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"That bitch!" A quick warp to the mountains to toss around firestorms and black lightning without a person in sight is justified, she dares someone to challenge that. She'll enjoy eviscerating their feeble forms and bifurcating their spines. She'll raise them from the dead to torture their wretched souls anew without the limits of their rotting carcass to stop her therapeutic toying.
A summoned ethereal dragon slams into a steep cliff and levels it off with force alone, carving a massive path through the shattering stone. "My father wasn't enough? She raised her fucking family to kill me next? What'd they do to deserve to die by my hand!? Who decided that!"
A lance of red lightning summoned straight from the planet's core shatters the sound barrier and melts the snow within a hundred miles before she even releases it from her hands. It stays there, held and contained, an earth-shattering force grinding at her fingers. "No more Emilita, No more! I'll end the cycle today!"
A little research led her to find out that Emilita had one child, who had two children. One of those is happily married as a noncombatant in Frostshire, having had two beautiful kids. She saw those earlier today. They're apparently eight and seven, it's hard to tell how young humans are, what with her life span.
The red lightning spreads across her arm, blistering even her protected flesh and using her blood as a sacrifice to power itself, grow in strength and outshine the sun. She holds it high in the air, readying it to toss into the mountainside and scar the landscape forever. Turn it into a hellscape the likes of which even a lich might question taking residence in.
The second grandchild is a fresh adult working as a shopkeeper for some rich blacksmith over in Sourcrest. He just moved there after he got the offer on his fame as Emilita's grandson, which is the only reason her records are even aware. The great heroine's grandson selling weapons to arm the next generation of killers, seems reasonable.
A plan hatched the moment she saw that, a plan that requires bleeding her rage away first, and letting her smiles turn sickeningly sweet. She needs to forego her sadism and the bubbling hatred she's possessed ever since watching that enchantress put down her father in cold blood, The fact that they dare to call that heroics is reason enough to despise humanity. The fact that no one seems to want to date her on Valentine's day is just icing on the horrific cake!
She'll seduce the grandson, make him hers, and make him beg his family never to raise arms again. There'll never be another Emilita. This holiday will spell doom!
She throws the red surge, and the sky turns red.
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He's a strapping lad, sturdy in a way that makes her quite keen to keep staring from behind the treeline outside the village. It appears Rain, the dastardly Emilita's grandson, decided to spend his day off for Valentine's day handing out wooden swords and toys for children. "Poisoning the next generation with your training weapons of war I see." She mumbles to herself, watching eerily.
She can find him attractive and still hate him, she decides. He can be a bastard and eye-catching, she's sure of it. There's no cardinal rules of malice broken there. She watches on as he passes toy bows with suction cups at the end of the arrows, and she rubs her hands in thought. Missing it entirely when his gaze turns to the trees, and finding herself lost in devious machinations.
She's figured it out. She's not just gonna seduce him, she's gonna actually have sex with him. She'll get married to him and lead him on with a loveless marriage, not just ruining his family's credentials and fame but also wasting his life.
Getting a guy on false pretenses, is there really any worse villainy? She feels a little guilty just thinking about it. It has to be the answer,
"Hey, you're a monster right?"
"Hau! I wasn't thinking of anything dirty!" She defends. Jumping up and raising her armored arms to defend her chest. She's back in her gear, black plate metal greaves, pauldrons, and a breastplate that puffs up her chest for envious eyes. The bat wings ornamentally mounted on elbows and knees are really her greatest aesthetic touch. "My face is just red from carrying this armor around!"
It takes her a moment to take in the guy in her space, here behind the tree line.
He comes equipped with strong jawline and a smile so pretty she almost wonders if she accidentally ran into a sexy masculine girl. At least, until she grasps who she's looking at.
"I wasn't uh, asking about that. Though, staring at a group of playing children and thinking something dirty would be kinda odd." He says, running a few fingers through his hair against the back of his head, and giving her an at ease chuckle. "I'm Rain, by the way. I just saw you and it kinda looked like you wanted to play but weren't sure if you should."
"I could if I wanted to." She crosses her arms under her chest. "It's Valentine's day. I just don't want to, it looks childish."
"Ah, well uh, I was just thinking." He takes a step forward instead of back. A motion that softens her frown reflexively. He's not afraid of her at all, is he? She's not sure whether she should be infuriated at the disrespect or flattered at the trust. "Just, the kids want to play hero but there's no one around to play Dark Lord. I figured, maybe…"
"Well, I don't." She snaps immediately. Eyeing him with fury. How dare he? The grandson of her father's killer asking her to fall for some children's enjoyment in a barbaric game that mocks her personal tragedies!
"Well, uh, if you just don't know the forms, I could teach you. We got plenty of spare equipment."
"... You'll teach me, how to use a toy sword."
"Yeah." He nods with a cheerful grin, thinking he's won something no doubt, and entirely missing the incredulous nature to her gaping stare. "Let's go."
It's his hand on hers that seals her fate, that and the almost gentle manner he manages to aggressively pull her out of the treeline towards the horde of swarming children.
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"What just happened?" She hears her own voice ask, as her eyes rove the ceiling above her for the dozenth time. The comforting silken sheets threaten to force her to doze off, and kidnap her into a lovely rest.
The warm man she's cuddled against doesn't care that he's the one snuggling her tall and powerful form, or that her tail is wrapping around his waist possessively. "We made love."
"Huh… And I didn't make you wear any sort of protection." She notes, shifting her hips a little to feel the warm cum sloshing around inside her.
"I actually offered, you knocked the condom out of my hand with your tail and pounced." He reminds with a chuckle. "I wish village girls did that. I'd have a family by now."
She vaguely remembers that. It burns her cheeks to think of. Her mating urge always acts up a little after seeing human children playing. It's not actually a huge worry in the traditional sense. Interspecies breeding isn't just rare, it's actually pretty hard. She could likely ride him to completion quite a few times before a child took hold within her womb, no matter how hungry it might be, or how fertile she might feel.
It's the sentiment that's important here. The fact that no matter how low the chance, she was willing to risk it with him without even thinking about it. Wasn't she planning his demise earlier? "We got drunk." She says, recalling their trip to the local bartender. She downed three to four times as much as him, which would normally be a sign he took advantage of her but then her constitution is likely dozens of times his. So he was probably hammered, which'd actually make this her taking advantage of him. His statement just a moment ago is the only reason she doesn't apologize. He clearly enjoyed it, maybe she'll give him the child if one somehow, impossibly, sprouts… Wouldn't that mess up the lines. Heroine's grandson shares custody with a Darklord's child.
"It's probably pretty close to midnight." She decides, pushing herself up slowly and separating from his warm snuggle. It hurts her to try to leave, she wishes she knew why, but perhaps the lack of knowledge is all the more reason to get out now. "I should go before the rules change."
Only his hand, suddenly grabbing her wrist stops her from pouncing away. The touch alone jumps her. Not from how sudden it is, though it is without provocation, or how warm it is. It's how hesitant she is to push it off that bothers her. "Why are you stopping me?" She gives him a little warning growl. If it's near midnight she can tear his throat out soon. Now that she's thinking without her rage it's clear that there's another way to stop Emilita's second coming. Murder them all.
"It's twelve twenty." He says. "If they were going to swarm you they'd have done it already. This is a peaceful village without a lot of adventurer presence, and most of the adventurers around here are likely occupied with the group of Lamia that swooped in earlier to aggressively mate. Stay the night, please?"
Her mouth moves to refute the words but nothing comes of it. Her cheeks a rosy wonder, her eyes analyze him for falsehoods. She has nothing, no excuse to flee, no real desire to argue or leave the warmth of his soft touch. "Why aren't you with the Lamia then?" Is all she can ask.
Infuriatingly, he has a quick answer at the tip of his tongue. "Because the cutest girl I've ever seen needed a night of passion before she fled back to whatever hellscape she lives in, a lot more than any snake woman needed my seed." An answer that leaves a gentle fire in his eyes, and a flame in her heart.
She stares for a moment, challenging him. The expectation that he'll laugh and admit he's lying and just thought she'd be a more sure thing is heavy. Her anxiety has always been a problem, one that forces her to overthink things.
For once she decides not to do that. She's gonna smile instead. "Sex, now."
"Condom?"
"Nope!" She pushes him back down into the sheets. Gripping his hands and intertwining their fingers. Her sharp claws rest gently against the back of his wrist, and his widened gaze takes in her voluptuous body once again.
There's a fire in her heart when she swoops down and steals his lips, treating him to a snake tongue of sorts regardless of his earlier sacrifice of sweet lamia pussy - and it is sweet, perhaps one of the sweetest sacrifices she's ever heard of, she's spent many a nights enchanting her tail into a fierce cock and drilling them into the dirt; they are freaking amazing. There's not a lot she wouldn't do for a nice night with hungry Lamia.
She presses his hands into the bed beside his head, and wraps his rising length with her tail smooth to line it up while her strong legs straddle his sides.
"Hah-I need to feel you inside me." She has to dart the words of explanation out, in between wraps of her tongue around his, like a loving stranglehold. It's how a monster courts a human, after all. Through force and, oftentimes, sensory annihilation.
Her hips lift her just above his shaft, above the powerful tool that dared to shoot life into her earlier. A tool that'll be shooting directly against her womb very shortly. It feels like fire against her swollen outer lips, and she can't help but stroke down his length rapidly. Her outsides tease him with a wet and tender care unmatched by mere mortal pussy.
It's just one more time, she decides. One more fire for her aching hips. A little bounce of her plump ass pushes his scorching member into her fertile core, past the entrance with which her maidenhood protects itself. There's no way twice will result in a child between her and a human. They'd have to do it at least three times.
"Hah-"
"Guaa-"
He slips right into her, the pathway to her deepest depths already traveled just a bit earlier in her fuzzy memories. The feeling of their connection fills her with glee, her wet folds spreading to let him in as deep as she can hold him. She catches his eyes mid bounce and sees something that manages to startle her. Love.
She should know better than to let it get to her. She may look his age. She may look like a young girl just spreading her wings into the world and doing whatever she needs to to survive. But the bobbing girl milking his rigid staff into her twisting depths with vibrant glowing hearts in her eyes was finding crazy ways to entertain herself before he was born.
The hands gripping his with trust and care aren't those of a naive girl, they're that of a terrifying Dark Lord who's led hundreds of fearsome battles that left thousands dead. She's above the chime in her heart that's threatening to melt her anger and flutter her stomach, or at least she should be. She finds her beliefs challenged every time their gaze meets, and his cock plunges deep into her of her own volition.
"Haah-aau-" She can dominate him like this, she's sure of it. Squeeze him with her depths and make him love her. That's true vengeance right there. So what if what she's rising within him, expertly bumbling up his throbbing shaft on a journey towards an unprotected oven, is a very potent sign that maybe she's making a bad decision. She's above bad decisions, she's the Dark Lord, and it's no longer Valentine's day.
"Gonna, haah-cum-aah-" His face is lovely, in this lighting. The little moonlight drifting in from the window and highlighting his tanned skin in a way that perfectly contrasts the pale nature of her own. "Do you want me to pull-"
"I'm Lady Alosia Von Yggdrasil, current Dark Lord of the monster lands, and so help me if you even think of doing anything but painting my womb with your children for even one second more I'll-mm!"
She's the Dark Lord, Lady Alosia Von Yggdrasil, and this boy's lips take hers by surprise. She expected hatred, fear, him to try and push her off of him before he came - which'd lead to its own possible chances at fun -so nothing surprises her as much as the sudden, fierce need to breed her that rises in his eyes. It's powerful and stunning, and its intensity makes her heart waver and her eggs quiver.
Enough so she doesn't have it in her to fight back when he flips their positions and bucks into her fiercely. "Ghaa!" His rapid thrusts mark her own powerful bliss, a wave that shoots through her and tingles her toes and scalp alike, a mere instant before she feels a powerful heat fire into her. Endlessly rich and filled with loving seeds.
"Hauaaah!"
Her arms wrap him, her legs locking over his ass, pulling him deep and lifting her own core to make sure not a drop can go to waste. He thrums powerfully inside her, and begins to thrust all over again without pause.
"What are you-haah-"
"I'm not ready to stop." He explains. "If that's alright with you, I'd like to cum a few more times."
"Au-yeah, that's, like I could be satisfied with this." She challenges with a fitful gasp filled scoff. "Maybe if you go another ten or twenty times I'll be impressed."
"Ha-twenty? I'm gonna have to order food! But I'm not leaving this bed until your needs are met!" He punctuates his every word with a deep ravenous thrust that turns into a rapid-fire pummeling of her insides. One that has her tongue hanging out, and her nails scraping across his back.
Her womb can probably take that right?
If two is fine then three is fine, and if three is fine four is fine.
And so on all the way to twenty. She's pretty sure math works that way. "Please, don't stop!"