I'm growling and biting rn ugh I need more lich fics... He's so hot...
Ghrgrgh I need the lich vro... TS not funny anymore...
NSFW LICH STUFF BELOW, I WARNED YOU
He himself can't actually smash, he's a skeleton, afterall... But he *can* still watch, and humiliate you in front of him. Taunting you, how you're not even fighting his mind control, like you're enjoying it- Yet praising you for listening so eagerly to him. Despite being death itself, he can still bring pleasure... He twists your mind, and makes you see and feel things that aren't there. Your eyes get sleepy and your upper body gets cold as your lower half becomes burning hot, aching between your legs. All you'd hear is his voice ringing in your ears, how good you're doing and how you're so easy to turn into a puddle on the ground. He may even taunt you with the prospect of death, making it to where your body goes ice cold, and your mind goes completely blank as he's sending waves of pleasure through your body, making you so drunk off of your own hormones, you can't tell what's real and what isn't. The only thing in your thoughts is him, and him alone. Your majesty, your god.
Content: cis female reader (though that really comes in right at the end with the nsfw and anatomy to be honest. I'm so used to writing gn readers by this point!). Reader is one of the quiet and reserved types, who prefers to have a meaningful connection with someone before taking things further than friendship, and sometimes it makes her feel a little bit lonely. Her bestie is a big, girlie orc lass with confidence to spare, and there's a goblin and a gargoyle in there too.
Wordcount: 6735
Extract:
...
Cassia peered over the shoulders of the remaining three people — the two excitable gnolls included — in front of you and began rattling off the labels of the ice cream in the glass-fronted freezer, but you had eyes only for the lich.
The way their delicate finger bones moved, connected to each other by magic instead of tendons and muscles; the way they held the ice cream scoop and moved it with such precision to create wonderful, glassy balls of ice cream to set delicately atop the cone in teetering arrangements; the way they squeezed syrup from the bottles and let it zig-zag across their ice cream masterpieces without once spilling a drop… They were enchanting.
The light of their magic — the magic that kept them in their state of permanent un-death — glowed a minty green in the depths of their eye-sockets, and it added to the vivacious aura that emanated from them. They talked constantly while they worked, chatting with customers and hardly breaking off to quip a quick retort at the goblin, who matched them for speed in both ice cream preparation and banter, until you were almost dizzy with it all. Combined with the glorious scent in the air, you were almost overwhelmed.
When it was your turn, they shifted their magical gaze to your face and you watched a slight change come over them.
Before you and Cassia had reached the head of the queue, they’d seemed tense and almost frantic, their shoulders held high and their movements a blur, but when they spotted you, they seemed to stall for a moment. The light grew minutely brighter in their skull, illuminating the curve of their eye sockets and the dainty line of their nasal cavity, and although they had no mouth with which to articulate a smile, you got the impression of a beaming, blinding smile all the same.
“Well there,” they said in that intriguing, slightly husky alto. They had the faintest trace of an accent, though you couldn’t place it. “What can we get for you, lovely?”
The final word, so casually but so sincerely added, threw you off balance, so you looked up at Cassia and begged her with silent, wide eyes to go first. She did, and you took a second to compose yourself. Social interactions weren’t really your thing. That was why you worked at a garden centre. The most you had to do there was point someone in the direction of the petunias, or advise someone on organic slug repellents. You didn’t want to be thinking about organic slug repellent at that moment though, and dragged your brain back into the present.
With your own order awkwardly given, the lich nodded and waggled the freshly-cleaned scoop at you. “Fabulous choice, I must say.”
And because you had the social range of a butter knife, you blurted, “Bet you say that to all your customers.”
They laughed. “Only the cute ones. You want a free flake with that?”
You eyed the jar of flaky, crumbly chocolate bars and nodded. “Thanks.”
The light in one of their eyes went out briefly in what you could only assume was a wink, and as they handed you the teetering cone of ice cream a second later, they also slid a little card across the counter with the delicate fingertip of their other hand. “Come back for a freebie,” they whispered, leaning close.
_
Read the whole thing now on the Little Ghosties tier of my Patreon, and get access to all my previous works too in my extended masterlist, as well as access to all early release content a week ahead. There's also a chill Discord server if you fancy joining that too.
SMASH, esp if we're talking about the design from W.o.W. Aesthetically amazing. Power? Phenomenal. Gorgeous. Would be on my knees, mouth agape, worshipping my undead king.
*Hey babes! Ofc dating the Lich is going to entail a lot of angst, so this is a official trigger warning for themes of manipulation, mind control and superiority complex in the context of a romantic relationship. Also he never turns into Sweet P in this universe, he just fucken dies lol. Be warned! Also, as always, explicit NSFW under the cut*
Dynamics:
The Lich has brewed his presence for ten thousand years and he will forever more. He is of a million worlds, and will spread infinitely, like a virus inside a weak body.
This being is both larger than life and less than a singularity, and taking a physical form means nothing in the long run. His existence is not in a form, but in a purpose. A role he must fulfill not to keep the balance of the universe, but to maintain its sporadic nature and eventually be the heat death that puts an end to it.
In this universe, the one you were in, originally you were one that was of modest values. Live your life, do it moderately, and be happy with it.
That is until you ran into an eight foot tall decaying horn man with glowing eyes. He took hold of your mind immediately.
The Lich does not see you as a being, or as a purpose, but rather, he sees you as his. His to play with and ponder until the end of time, until the very end of himself.
He promised you a higher state of consciousness until you both eventually succumbed to his very nature. To be a part of his legion forever, then some, and then never again.
Your heart was his instantly.
Romance:
We all know that this romance will be nowhere near conventional or healthy. In the first few months of it, you don't have a choice until he can sense that you'll follow along willingly. In those first few months, he controls almost every move you make.
You are by his side. Not in battle nor in planning, but you are there to be his anyways. This is how you exist, now.
It could have turned out worse, you supposed. But seeing how he lured people into his green pit of power, seeing how he destroyed, seeing Finn and Jake's hurt faces when they happen upon you? There wasn't much to convince you that it didn't turn out the worst way possible.
Eventually, however, you grow numb to this. For awhile, after the handful of defeats doled out by your two heroes, you two traverse the stars. He mainly focuses on his mission, save for the small moments of food, rest and privacy you need.
You focus on him.
You're smart enough to not try and ask too many questions of him. Prodding destruction's physical embodiment when you don't know their temper isn't a wise move.
Still, though. It doesn't matter. He senses your curiosities, and sometimes he makes himself home in your mind and hears your questions whispered through his ears.
Sometimes he pretends like he didn't hear them. Other times, when he's in a better mood, he'll humor you.
'Where are we going next?' You thought, stars and void blurring past you as you both sail the heavens.
"To the Lambda Cancri system, that is what your kind called it long ago,"
It still shocked you sometimes, how he could so easily break your mind and eat the contents like a yolk. You wondered if he would ever acknowledge your newfound admiration for him.
"Thank you,"
"You are welcome"
Eventually, you two make it to the Lambda Cancri system.
There is no planet to land on. It would be another journey to the next system to hopefully replenish energy, but you wouldn't complain.
"Look. One star, another. A binary star system triggered by gravitational force and interlocked in a dance, forever, until one consumes the other. Look."
"I see," And you were telling the truth. You sense that this was a metaphor for a relationship bigger than those stars, bigger than the Lich and Finn themselves, bigger than Ooo.
He turned to look at you. Slowly, he touched you, and he knelt in the vacuum of space until his forehead touched yours.
"My side, until the end of time,"
NSFW:
There isn't much time the Lich has to satiate those pesky little needs of yours. And even if he did have time, he would not waste magic on creating the proper body parts to help you in those needs anyways.
Eventually though, even though he is knowing of most things, he grows curious of your specific reactions. The noises you could make, if you'd muffle them or if you'd scream.
You're not expecting for him to smuggle you inside an inn the next planet you two rest at.
He rents a room, he takes you up the stairs, and as soon as he shuts the door he makes your clothes vanish at the snap of his fingers.
There is no true heat behind his eyes, none of the wanting for himself. Just a veiled curiosity, something you often feel for him.
You get on the bed and present yourself to him. Again, you're wise enough to wait for his orders. To not test him.
He rewards this behavior with a stroke on the cheek, a comforting gesture that tingles from the raw, dry texture of skeletal fingers.
He slowly moves down. As the last scholar of GOLB, he has had habits that have not passed through him. He studies you.
He puts his tongue on you; not too warm and not too cold, but very articulated to your points of pleasure.
You're quickly overstimulated.
He does not stop during the night. It is all you could have ever asked for out of the Lich.
Hey hey hey! Part two is done and ready! The link to decide what to do next is at the bottom. You have until 8pm on August 21st to vote on what should happen.
The most popular choice picked by you all is: Snoop around the room? Examine the tables and look out the window?
Catch up: Part 1
Despite the fear of being in the Witch King’s home and fearing the man who brought you here, curiosity gets the better of you. The room looks interesting. There’s the table beside the brazier that is full of pages covered in writing and drawings. Several opened books sit stacked on top of each other. Then there’s that table with the vials and potions. And that window. What’s on the other side? Possibly more mountains, but maybe you’ll see a road or a small village.
The very idea almost has you leaping out of the chair and rushing across the room. A road could lead you out of the mountains and far away from this sickly green place and the man who bought you. If there is a village, that can be your path to freedom. All you need is to get the help from one or two kind souls, and then you would be free. Free to go home. It feels like it’s been decades since you last saw home. Decades since you last saw your mother. Decades since hope blossomed in your heart.
Slowly, you stand up from the chair. A part of you expects the door to burst open and the man to come charging at you. Screaming at you for being a disobedient girl. A shiver passes through you at the thought of the ways he might punish you. The thought nearly has you sitting back down in the chair and forgetting your plan.
But you don’t sit down and the door isn’t thrown open. The door stays closed and the low murmuring conversation continues on the other side. Swallowing your fear, you take a shaky several steps towards the table in the middle of the room.
The brazier casts the table in a strange green light, revealing all the loose papers and broken ink quills. In the center of the table is a stack of open books. Everything is covered in a thick layer of dust.
You pick up a random page and shake off the dust. You cover your face and pray all the dust doesn’t trigger a sneeze attack.
The page is made of a thick parchment that’s yellowed with age. The writing on the page is difficult to read, but you can tell it’s not any language you know. You pick up another dust-covered page. This one contains a large, faded sigil. At one time the sigil was a bright red, but the color has faded to a dusty reddish brown. There’s handwriting next to the symbol, but you can’t make out what it says.
The stack of opened books gets your attention.
The book on top is opened to a detailed drawing of a black and green snake. The snake is coiled on a table and stares intently at you. Beneath the drawing is the snake's name, written in neat legible print, and a quick description.
Sorcerer Snake. This snake is known for seeking out magic users and residing in places of magic. The snake emits a large amount of magic, making it a perfect companion for any magical practitioner. At one time, scholars believed these snakes were created and did not occur naturally in the world. However, in recent years, it has been discovered that these snakes breed like their non-magic counterparts. Sorcerer snakes are found all around the known world, and their appearance changes based on their geographical location.
Despite the name, the snake is kind of cute. It’s chubby, not something you would expect of a snake. The eyes are soft and gentle, and sparkle with curiosity. It reminds you of the python Lady Argent had as a pet. Except her's was white and yellow, while this one is black and dark green.
You flip through the book and find more detailed drawings of snakes. Beneath each drawing is the snake's name and a quick description.
You move the top book and examine the book below it.
The second book is not covered in as much dust as the snake book and is opened to a page with a potion recipe. You can’t read what it says, it’s written in a strange language. Yet the longer you look at the written words, a strange feeling comes over you. And it looks like the words begin to move! You quickly place the snake book back on top. The green and black python is a better sight than strange moving words.
The table with the potions and vials gets your attention. After seeing that strange book, you are careful not to touch anything.
There’s a small vial filled with a shimmering blue liquid. It sparkles in the green light of the room. The liquid reminds you of the ocean near Lady Argent's home. Sometimes, bright blue specks would appear in the ocean waves at night. The lights reminded you of stars shining and shimmering in the waves. One of the slaves said it was magic, while another said it was a type of creature that lived in the ocean. Whatever it was, it was pretty.
A larger bottle is filled with reddish-orange liquid. This one seems to move in the glass as if someone is swirling it, even though the bottle remains unmoved on the table. Something about the liquid looks alive like it’s trying to escape the glass. That makes you uncomfortable.
With a shiver, you turn your attention to the dried flowers. Despite being dried, you recognize them. Nightmare Lilies. A beautiful and terrible flower. Ingesting any part of the flower itself can cause a terrible sickness. The first symptom is nightmares, followed by vomiting and confusion. You’ve heard that constant usage of the poison will literally rot a person’s brain.
While the flowers are poisonous, the roots are actually beneficial. The roots are the only known way to cure someone that has been poisoned by the lilies. Of course, the cure needs to be administered within the first few days the symptoms appeared.
Lady Argent had a small patch of Nightmare Lilies in her garden. It was known among her slaves that she used these on her political enemies or rivals. Really anyone who stood in the way of what she wanted would end up sick. She used their confusion to gain information about other rivals and would usually leave her victims to die.
You wonder what this dried bundle of flowers was used for.
The window is the final part of the room you’ve yet to investigate. You move towards it and pull the tattered curtain aside. The room is flooded with the natural light, and the view nearly takes your breath away.
Beyond the window is the entire mountain range. Tall, snow-peaked mountains and the bright blue sky. It’s beautiful.
Below the fortress is a lake, the water shines in the sunlight. There’s a road that leads to the water and a road that leads away, deeper into the mountains. But there’s nothing else. No other visible roads or trails, not smoke in the sky to show there’s a village or even a small house. Nothing. Just mountains and the blue sky.
While your hope to be free lies on that road near the lake, you have no idea how to get down to the lake. And no idea where the road leads. It could be a month-long trip through the mountains to somewhere safe. Without supplies and proper clothes, you’ll be dead in a few days. But at least the view is beautiful, you think.
There’s a shout from behind you that makes you jump. Turning, you see the wooden door is still shut but there’s now an angry voice. The light behind the door darkens for a moment, then goes back to normal. You close the curtain and run back to the chair, taking your seat like you weren’t just snooping.
The yelling goes on for about a minute. You recognize the voice; it belongs to the man who brought you here. You have no idea what pissed him off, but you’re glad it wasn’t you. When the man finally stops shouting, there’s a second of silence. Then you hear a faint response. A second later, the door opens.
That strange white light pours into the room and a hooded figure steps through the doorway. They’re tall and move with a grace you’ve never seen. You would think this figure was floating, but you can see their legs moving beneath their cloak. Behind the figure is the man, he looks to be both pleased and annoyed, his tattoos spark and glows.
The hooded figure walks pass you without saying anything and approaches the door to the hall. You wonder if that’s the Witch King. The man grabs your arm and pulls you up. His hand is so hot it makes you jump.
The man drags you along as he follows the strange figure through the confusing hallways. Left, left, right, up some stairs, another right, left, until finally, the figure comes to a large door. This one is engraved with snakes, just like the entrance to the fortress.
The figure turns to the man and you, but he speaks to the man. His voice is low and soft. It's soothing. “Are you sure?”
The man growls. “Yes.”
The figure nods and pushes the massive doors open. The man drags you after the figure and into a massive circular room. Like every part of the fortress, the walls are green and the floor is dark. There are pillars along the outer edge of the room and the ceiling is made of glass. Braziers filled with green fire stand in front of all the pillars. Beside each brazier is a suit of armor.
In the center of the circular room is a raised platform with stairs that lead to a large chair that looks like a throne. At the base of these small stairs are two more suits of armor, and beside the thrown itself are another two. It’s almost as if they are standing guard. Leaning against one side of the chair is a scepter, or maybe it’s a staff. On the other side of the chair is a metal stand that holds a green crystal ball. It’s beautiful.
The whole room is beautiful.
The hooded figure stops at the base of the raised platform. They raise their hand and the green crystal ball flies towards him and settles on their raised hand.
The figure turns to face you and the man, still holding the green crystal ball.
The man lets you go and steps towards the hooded figure.
“That’s it?” the man asks.
The figure nods. “This is it. The green crystal ball you demanded to—”
The figure is cut off when the man throws a bolt of magic at him. The bolt, red and bright, like fire, hit the figure square in the chest and knocks him onto his back. The figure lands at the base of the raised platform. The green crystal ball hits the ground with a loud thunk and rolls towards the man. The man picks up the crystal ball and laughs. It’s a terrible laugh, one that sends chills down your spine and makes you wonder if the man is even human.
You begin to band begin to back away, terrified of being caught in the crossfire, but also scared the man will set his sights on you.
The man steps towards the hooded figure who remains unmoving. You wonder if he’s dead.
“I have it. Your phylactery, lich!” the man cackles. As his tattoos spark and glow, an aura of heat begins to surround the man.
You have no idea what a lich or phylactery is and you don’t care. You only care about getting out of that room.
As you begin to back away, crouched as low as you can, you notice the hooded figure sits up. His hood stays up and he looks up at the man.
“Oh? And what do you want in exchange for my phylactery?”
“I want…” the man takes a slow even breath. The air around him shifts and begins to shimmer, his tattoos glow brighter than you’ve ever seen. “I want your power!”
He slams the green crystal onto the floor. The room echoes with the sound of the crystal breaking, it’s so loud you cover your ears and fall to your knees. The entire room begins to shake and there’s a terrible groaning. It sounds like the entire fortress is being ripped apart.
The crystal breaks into several large pieces and a green mist floats up from the remains. The man laughs and reaches for the mist. His laughter is cut short when his hand goes through the mist and it evaporates into the air.
The hooded figure stands up and adjusts his cloak. He seems taller now. The shaking and terrible groaning slowly come to a stop, and the whole room seems darker.
“That was not my phylactery,” the figure says. He doesn’t sound angry, only slightly exasperated, as if this isn't the first time, he's gone through this.
The man is stunned for a moment, then he screams in rage and shoots another bolt of red magic at the hooded figure. Before it hits, the hooded figure captures the bolt. The magic hovers in his hands then turns a familiar green. The hooded figure throws the magic back at the man, hitting him in the chest and launching him backward. He hits the stone floor with a sickening thud and does not move. Black smoke rises from the man’s chest.
Tears in your eyes, you crawl behind one of the pillars. You peek around the pillar and see the hooded figure approach the body. He lets out a long and exhausted sigh.
“I’m so tired of these apprentices thinking they can just take my phylactery.” He nudges the body with his foot and scoffs. “Fool. You had such promise.”
The figure turns towards the two nearest suits of armor.
“Can you two, dispose of the body, please?” he asks.
The suits of armor shake and come to life. They stumble for a moment, then get their footing, and approach the lich and dead man. Together, the two suits of armor lift the body and carry it out of the room, leaving an unsettling stain on the dark floor.
You don’t know if you should be relieved or terrified the man is gone. He won’t ever get a chance to hurt you or sell you. But now you’re left alone in the Witch King’s castle, with who is probably the Witch King himself. All you can do it stare at that dark stain and watch as the dead man is carried away.
The hooded figure looks over his shoulder in your direction. You gasp and hide, hoping he didn’t see you. Maybe you can sneak out of here without getting killed.
Your hopes are squashed when you hear footsteps approaching your hiding spot. They stop and there’s the sound of someone clearing their throat. You don’t move, you don’t even breathe.
“I’m not going to hurt you. It’s ok,” says the figure. His voice is so soft and low.
Shaking, with tears running down your face, you look around the corner of the pillar.
The figure stands there. He’s so tall, but you don’t dare try to look at his face. Instead, you look down at the ground. His boots are dark and worn, but you can tell they were made to last. They are simple, at least compared to what Lady Argent wore.
The man clears his throat again. This time, you look up at him. The hood hides most of his face. The cloak hides most of his body, save for his lower legs.
“Now that he’s taken care of,” the hooded figure begins, “who are you?”
4.7k words - Female Reader x Male Monster
-Treasure Hunt - Bold Lead - Pirates - Give me your heart-
“He’s a lich, Captain, I want to know if you understand what that means.” Tog spoke slowly and purposefully, enunciating each word with a crisp, loud clarity
“He’s dead or something.” You waved off one of the crew unloading things from the ship.
Tog stared at you with a bleak, almost distraught expression. “Not just dead, Captain, he is undead. By his own hand. He is so powerful in his magic that he is able to live on without life! He is more powerful than any storm, any force of nature we have ever come across or will ever come across in our entire lives.”
You shrugged, watching the crew haul your things into the courtyard. “Good for him.”
“Not good for him!” Tog shouted. She threw her hand out over the side of the boat. “He transported our entire ship into his moat!”
“He said he'd put it back.” You hopped off the boat and onto the drawbridge. “Now everyone! I know this may seem strange for a while but we are on the threshold of the greatest treasure we’ve ever found! Behave and we all come out of this richer than any Rakshasa royal in the capital!”
Weak cheers rang out, but you knew they’d see the light once they saw what Luzas had promised all of you.
You went back inside the palace, following the way the tiles on the floor moved until you came into Luzas’ study. “Everything is going according to plan, sir. Once everyone is settled in their quarters you can give them all their roles within the household.”
Luzas looked you up and down, moving aside the books floating around him in a circle. “You seem all too excited for this.”
“Let’s just say I saw the light.”
“And by light, you mean the treasure I promised?” Luzas chuckled. “You’re an easy woman to please.”
You shook your head. “Not really. But your offer for the crew was too good to pass up.” You walked past him to the window, looking out to see Tog instructing the crew.
Luzas came up beside you looking out over the scene as well. He turned slightly and his hand reached out, touching your hair. You glanced up at him, touching the same lock he caressed.
“What is it?” You asked.
Luzas took his hand back. “You have it down.”
“Oh right.” You ran your fingers through your hair as best you could. “I usually keep it braided up.” You leaned back out the window as a breeze picked up. Yellow flower blossoms danced upon the breeze.
“It’s been a while since this place had life in it,” Luzas changed his musings.
That reminded you of Tog’s warning. “Aren’t you alive?” You rose back up to face him.
Luzas let out a low chuckle. “Yes and no. I am neither but I am also both at the same time.”
You furrowed your brow at him.
“Confusing, I know.” He sighed and held out his hands, both sinewy and bone at the same glance. “I traded both my life and death for this form.”
“How?” You leaned in from curiosity. “Was it a power trip thing?”
Lowering his head, Luzas averted his eyes from you. “You see-”
There were shouts from the hallway and the sound of something breaking. You scoffed, turning yourself away from the conversation. “I’ll go see what they’re up to,” you grunted.
You didn’t get much of a chance to return to that conversation. As the day went on, the crew was moved into the palace, and later on, they were all given jobs within the palace. Some worked as maids or butlers, others were in charge of the kitchen, others laundry duties.
“I didn’t become a pirate to clean,” a crewmate snarled as you walked by.
“It’s only for a short while,” you hushed them. “Enjoy it, because this means more than you will ever know.”
“But what does that mean, Captain?”
“It’ll take too long for me to explain,” you replied. “I have to go get ready for supper.” You continued walking on. You knew the crew wasn’t going to enjoy this new lot in life very much, but hey, at least it would only be long enough until Luzas performed the spell to take your heart. Surely it wouldn’t be that long. You knew each day they would become more and more settled, probably even to the point they would complain when you all had to leave.
It was a few days into your stay when you had a bit of ease around the place. The crew seemed to be doing just as you expected, settling, and you were going along with Luzas’ requests. Anything to help get yourself closer to that amazing promise of his.
“Okay, so you have been holding out on me,” you told him.
Luzas gave you a look. “How so?”
You smiled, stepping in closer to his side. “Are you really the first orc king?” Leaning in, you were almost flush against his side. “Go ahead, you can tell me.”
Luzas didn’t really move away. “Not exactly,” he replied. “I am not the first orc king, there were many before me. I was simply the first orc king over men.”
“So you are!” You gasped with excitement.
Luzas sighed and moved away. “You’re not getting the distinction, are you?” He walked forward, going towards the door.
“Does it matter?” You followed along beside him.
Outside it was a walled off garden, or it must have once been. It was all earth and stone. But as you and Luzas walked forward, it began to bloom full of yellow flowers, those creeping vines formed around dead tree stumps to grow.
“I was the first orc to rule over men, it feels like a rather large distinction to me.” Luzas murmured quietly as he walked forward. “I fought hard and won the role fairly. Yet people want to make this distinction as if I were not a genuine ruler.”
“Well, what sort of ruler were you?” You walked on ahead, inspecting the flowers to see if they were real.
“That is not something I can answer,” he sighed. “My memory is clouded and rose colored. Much like you to your crew, only they can truly make claims to what sort of leader you are.”
You plucked a flower, noting it felt real in your hand. “Well, that sounds like a proper king thing to say. Bad kings do not think if they are good or not, only that they are the king.” You offered the flower to Luzas.
He smiles at the offer and takes it. “Maybe. But as I said, I see my past in a rose colored light.” He took the flower, adorning his cloak with it. “But that world is long gone. Those people have long since passed into another realm. They fill the beneath.”
Your eyes widened. “The beneath? What’s that?”
Luzas’s eyes widened and he looked at you as though you had grown a second head. “You’ve not heard of the beneath?”
You shook your head.
He scoffed. “So many things have been forgotten since my time.”
You tilted your head side to side. “It is how time works.”
Luzas scoffed and sat down in the garden. “I suppose.”
You sat down beside him, stretching out your legs and letting out a heavy, relaxed sigh. You leaned back, tilting your neck so you could see up into the sky and through the yellow petals of the vines. “My mother liked things that were rare. Jewels. Clothes. Stories. It was her whole thing to have a collection that no one else had. This included these big old books. Lots of which she took from monks and scholars who kept to themselves, kept their libraries safe. That’s how she found stories about you.”
“I see,” he murmured.
“Do you wanna know what they said?” You asked.
He shook his head slowly. “Not particularly.”
“Well, things were good, until they weren’t.” You stood up from your seat and looked back at Luzas. Even sitting, he was taller than you. “I’m going to catch up with Tog. If you should need me-”
“No, go,” Luzas sighed. “Take care of your own.”
You purse your lips. “Well, that includes you now, too.” You turned and walked back inside, wondering if that would mean anything to him at all.
Sometime later, the colors around the island were beginning to change, and night came on much sooner than expected. It didn’t feel like it should be a changing of seasons, but apparently it was. The once lush green around the island was turning golden and red. Everything matched the citrine and yellow pearls that Luzas kept in his home.
“It’ll be getting cold,” Tog yawned over tea.
“Suppose we should start chopping lumber?” You asked, glancing idly over a book.
Tog shrugged. “He probably makes his own fire.” She then glared, turning to you with such a sharp look. “We are going complacent here! When is this going to end?”
You looked at her with surprise. “Oh-” You thought for a moment. “It’s a pretty important spell I think.”
“You spend your days with him! What is he doing?” Tog looked at her tea then pushed it back. “We’re becoming fat and lazy on the comforts here! Do you not realize that?”
You scanned her quickly. “You look adorable as always, Tog.”
The little blue kobold slammed her palms down upon the table. “That’s not what I meant! The crew is growing used to this life! We are becoming domesticated!”
You thought for another long moment. “I’m sure Luzas will be over with this spell soon,” you offered.
“Well, ask him!” Tog snapped. “I didn’t join you because you were good at being patient, Captain. I joined you because you were frightening! You were a powerful woman, and I wanted that! But that is not what I see in this castle.”
You furrowed your brow at her. “Hold your tongue, Tog. You will not speak to me in such a way.”
“Exactly!” Tog bounced. “Talk to him like how you talk to me! Not some simpering lady.”
It was your turn to stand up dramatically. “Simpering?”
Tog returned your harsh stare with equal ferocity. “We all see it, Captain! The way you followed him around, acting like some puppy dog. That is not our captain! Our captain leaves men and women behind her in a lush wreck! She leaves them weak! She-”
You grabbed hold of the edge of the table and shook it to make her stop. “You want me to talk to him! Then I’ll talk to him!” You stood up from the table, pushing it into Tog with your anger. You stormed out of the room, stomping down the hallway to where you knew Luzas would be.
You then hesitated outside his door, your hands slightly shaking. Puppy dog? You? No, you highly doubt it. They don’t know what they are talking about. You pushed open the doors of Luzas’ private chambers and stormed in like the pirate queen you were.
Are!
“Luzas!” You shouted out. Looking around the room you didn’t see him lurking like usual. Instead the lights in his chamber were dim, barely aglow. You licked your lips, wandering further into the room as the doors closed behind you.
The room was unusually warm, and breathing in there was a hint of thick, wild musk in the air. You huffed, turning this way and that to find Luzas. You then saw his bed and the curtains were drawn around it. You frowned, walking towards it.
“Luzas?” Your voice wouldn’t come out louder than a harsh whisper. You pulled back the curtain forcefully, seeing Luzas lying in bed.
Didn’t he once say he didn’t need sleep? He didn’t need food either but he often ate meals with you and drank libations despite the fact it wouldn’t get him drunk. Maybe he partook in sleep the same way he did those things.
His golden form was laid out against the bed, his long hair splayed out across the pillows, his arms, down his chest.
“Luzas I-” You stopped, short of breath and all power within your body. Your eyes had trailed down his side enough to see that the sleeping giant had a giant awoken upon his body. Your jaw dropped slightly.
“By the goddess,” you whispered.
This thick, golden phallus hung in the air, barely suspended by its own stiffness. The head gleamed like polished citrine, shining in the light and reflecting shades of yellow, green and orange.
“No wonder he slouches so much,” you murmured to yourself. You went to pull back, no longer wanting to confront the sleeping beast. But as you pulled back, his hand caught you.
“What are you doing here?” His voice was a low, angry growl.
You were stunned, afraid to speak before anger returned. “Unhand me!”
Luzas chuckled. “I caught you spying on me and you think you have the upper hand here? Captain?” he said so mockingly.
“You will unhand me or I swear-”
“What did you come in here yelling about?” He growled again.
So he was awake! He was aware that you had been staring at him, ogling him even. You held your breath, still keeping your wrist held high. “I came to demand an answer,” you snarled back. “I want to know when this deal is sealed.”
First story of the year! Featuring a lich who loves pink tones, a strange world, and hopefully something comforting for the start of the new year.
Female Main Character x Male Monster (both cis)
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Storms were common in your childhood home. In fact, if you were asked, you couldn’t recall a day without one. If it wasn’t thunder and lightning, it was howling winds and ice. Your father had chosen this place as his keep just for that very reason.
Having grown up with these sounds, you would have considered yourself able to sleep through anything. But you had been gifted with amazing hearing, and anything out of the ordinary would stir you. Mostly it was just your cat, Alice.
“If you don’t sleep, I can’t sleep,” you fussed at her. She was darting around your room, going to the corners and swatting at something.
You huffed and watched her, unamused as you were so tired. “How is it you only have energy when it’s night? How can you even tell the hours of the day?”
Alice bounded from one corner to the next, her eyes as wide as saucers.
You sighed heavily and flopped back in bed, staring up at the ceiling. You held your book back up over your head, reading between flashes of lightning. You had read these books a million times over, but your father had refused to bring in new ones. So you filled the blanks from childhood until now with your own thoughts and ramblings.
“I bet being a bride would be fun,” you thought to yourself. “Getting all dressed up, having a feast, then going off with a groom to wherever you desired.”
Alice mewed and yowled, flopping over before running across the room again at breakneck speed before she slammed into the foot of the doors.
You sat up in shock to see her laying there limp against the floor as if she had broken her neck. Then she started twitching and kicking the door with her back legs while trying to reach out with her front paws.
“You’re insane!” You got up out of bed and put on your robe. “I’ll show you.” You opened your door into the dark hallway for Alice to see.
Alice twisted around, making a yowling purr sound, then shot off into the hallway. You huffed and followed after her. She would bat the baseboards for a moment then move over to the next wall, doing the exact same thing.
“You’ve been like this ever since I found you,” you scolded her. “If Father were to catch us out here, he’d toss you out.”
Alice had been discovered in the castle, which was strange as many living creatures didn’t appear around the castle. Your father was going to chuck her from the window, but you insisted on keeping her. Your father has made threats everyday since, but he’s not gone through with any of them.
Alice’s tail swished back and forth as she smacked at the wall. She scurried off again, racing down the hall.
“Wait!” You scooped up the hem of your nightgown and robe and chased after her.
The cat was stopped outside the study where she sat tensed up and her tail dusting back and forth along the floor. You plucked her up from the ground.
“Naughty thing!” You whispered to her. “Have you worked off that excess energy now?” You glanced back to the door, hearing hushed voices from within. Light gathered at the edges of the door, partially illuminating the hallway so only the gold filigree of the frames showed.
“...perhaps if we go further into the village this time, we’ll find them.”
“No, no Daniels,” your father’s voice hissed. “It’s not the village we need to concern ourselves with.”
“But the children they are hiding are needed!” Daniels urged.
Your father slammed his fist down. “I’m not touching the village again for that reason, Daniels! They have to grow complacent.”
You stepped closer to the door, peering in through the crack to see your father and his right hand man, Daniels, arguing by his desk. Your father is hunched over and Daniels is pacing back and forth.
Daniel’s stops and you duck down, fearing he might see you. Daniels approaches the desk again. “We need blood for the stone, or else Atharo’s will-”
Your father stood up his full height, a terrifying spectacle. He reached out his dark, crooked hand towards Daniels who stepped back.
“We have the girl for a reason, sir.” Daniels huffed. “She’s of age, and she’s not wine. The longer you wait-”
Your father reeled back his hand into his dark cloak. “The girl provides.”
“Once a month!” Daniels scoffed. “And it isn’t enough. We need more from her. Or we need to take from the village again.”
You never liked Daniels, he was creepy and his gaze lingered on you far too long. But every hair on your body stood on end. You're frozen to the spot even though you knew you should return back to your room. But what they were saying kept you stuck there.
“As far as we know Atharo’s is not aware of her, and that is because we use her sparingly. Not even she knows what she is capable of, and I am keeping it that way. Atharo will never have her. I destroyed cities for her.”
Daniels sneered. “Because she is a weapon, sir. But you treat her like-”
“So she will be submissive! As long as she believes that I am her doting father, we have nothing to worry about. We do not have to fight her. She complies,” your father laughed. “And the stone receives what it needs.”
At that moment Alice scratched your hand as she tried to break free. She leapt down from your arms and the loud thud of her hitting the ground made your father stand from his desk. You chased after Alice, following her down the hallway going faster and faster. Alice was chasing something and then she disappeared.
You gasped and stood still in the dark. Your hand was bleeding where Alice scratched you and stung slightly. Behind you you could hear your father yelling. You darted forward and touched the wall, kneeling down where Alice might be. You saw a small glow, a shimmering ring of light like around a door.
To your surprise there was a small door about the size of a window. It was partially open, and from within you heard Alice yowling. Your father’s voice roared from the darkness so you slipped inside the door, closing it behind you.
Alice rubbed up against you, purring loudly as you picked her up. “You got me into a lot of trouble!” You stood up and turned, looking into a massive but dark room. Moonlight shone through high windows, glimmering along the towering curtains. You had rarely seen moonlight before.
“Alice…where are we?” You stepped forward into the grand room. “This isn’t home. It’s too…peaceful.” Glancing out one of the ceiling high windows you saw a lake reflecting the moon high above. “And pretty.”
You turned back from where you had come and the tiny door was gone. “Oh no. That’s odd.” You searched along the floor, hoping you had maybe missed it. But the tiny door was just gone.
So much had happened in the span of a few short minutes, and none of it formed a complete picture. Whatever your father and Daniels were speaking about, you knew that it somehow involved you. Now you were in this strange and quiet place you had never seen before. It was hard to focus as too many thoughts were swirling through your head.
Once again, Alice wriggled from your arms and ran from you.
“You must be joking,” you bemoaned before racing after her.
A door opened for Alice, letting her into a room where everything was colored pale pink. The door opened wider as you approached, bathing you in that pale pink light. The room was tall like a tower, almost endless. The walls were lined with shelves, and even the highest ones were decorated with knick knacks and collections.
In the center of the room there was a large armchair seated before a massive crystal sitting in a large basin. The crystal jutted out in sharp points and ledges, and deep within the basin there was moss and succulents growing around the base.
Images appeared and disappeared within the shining surfaces of the crystal. You saw a brief flash of your father ripping your bedroom to shreds before it became a reflection of your face. You lurched back, distrubed by the whole scene. You clasped your head between your palms, breathing in deeply to calm your pulse.
You saw Alice sat comfortably in the chair, curled up in a ball with her tail swaying slowly.
“How can you be so happy here?” You whispered to her. You stepped back, tilting your head up towards the window. Beside it there was the painting of a man, older, and with defined cheekbones.Ornate jewelry covered his fingers and neck, flowing down his chest where his long robe opened. The eyes of the painting followed you, bright and frightening.
You rubbed your eyes. “I’m more tired than I thought.”
“I’m glad you made it.” The voice that spoke to you was deep and ominous. The sound of it came from every stone in the tower. A door opened near the one you came through and someone stepped through.
You moved away as they glided into the room. Their long robe dragged upon the ground, giving no sign of feet. Their billowing sleeves lifted and long, thin fingers protrude past the fabric and pale pink sparks began hissing and popping at their fingertips.
“Would you like something to drink, my dear?” A tea cup and saucer popped into one hand. The other hand coiled into itself, forming an open end and liquid poured into the teacup.
You watched in awe and shock, stiffening as the tea cup was extended towards you.
“Go ahead. How would you like it?” The hand was skeletal and surrounded by a faint pink glow. An ornate chest piece covered a glowing rib cage both twinkling with pink gems and lights. The face that stared back at you held a wicked smile of nothing but teeth.
You fainted, dropping like a corpse onto the floor.
The sound of twittering birds frightened you awake and you sat up like a shot in bed. The daylight outside filtered through the glistening curtains and the shadows of birds fluttered by. You jumped out of bed,much to the consternation of Alice asleep near you.
You flung open the curtains and hissed at the sunlight that burned into your eyes. If moonlight was rare for you, then sunrise had barely been seen. The great multitude of trees and plants outside your window was also a sight saved for pictures in books.
“Where am I?” You stepped back from the window to look through it with awe, even if the sunlight hurt.
The bedroom so was much nicer than your own. The bed was large and soft, while your own had been quite small and hard. The blankets were fluffy and Alice could curl up in them and get lost. The floors were covered by downy pink carpets, and the artwork on the walls did not depict bloody scenes from wars long past.
“Do you think all the rooms here are this cute, Alice?” You asked as you inspected a figurine on the windowsill of a woman in a beautifully full skirt. The skirt rang as you turned it and you found that figurine was actually a bell.
“Most rooms back home are dark and cold. This reminds me of being inside a tea cozy.” You walked around the room, kneeling down upon the floor to feel the carpet with your bare hands. Under the bed you saw there were some shoes and slippers as well as a jar full of buttons.
“But I suppose you’re comfortable wherever you are, right Alice?” You peeked back up upon the bed as Alice turned her head away from you. You smiled brightly. “Aww, you like it better here, don’t you baby?” You sat back upon the bed and pet her soft black fur that, in the sunlight, had a red sheen to it.
There was a gentle rap upon your door and you stood in attention.
“Good morning, my dear.” It was the same deep, and alluring voice from last night. “You don’t need to open the door-” He no sooner said this then you opened the door wide upon him.
The skeletal creature stood there, mouth open in stunned silence as you looked up at him. The crown of his head rose up in tall crystals similar to the one in the tower room. The jagged, pink crystals grew in clusters around his face, forming his sharp teeth as well as a sort of beard.
“I was-” He started unsurely. “I was going to see what you…what you wanted for breakfast, my dear.” His hands fumbled around his chest, fiddling with the ornate jewelry hanging there. “I would bring it to you.” He almost sounded like you scared him.
Your father had described his mortal enemy, Atharo, as a wispy, pink, fairy. But that never settled right with you in how desperate your father went about fighting him. This skeletal creature more suited the role you built up in your head.
“Am I kidnapped?” You asked.
He flinched.
You clasped your hands together before you. “You are Lord Atharo, aren’t you? I could be wrong, but I have a feeling that you are.”
“I…I am!” He cleared his throat and stood tall again. “But fear not, my dear. I have no intent of harming you while you are here.”
“But am I kidnapped?” You asked again.
Atharo flinched. “No. You’re my guest here, young lady.”
You clicked your tongue and nodded. “But you’re my father’s enemy. His most hated enemy, in fact. I find it a little hard to believe that I am merely a guest.”
“I’m surprised at how well you are taking this,” Atharo murmured.
You glanced down to the ground. “I suppose I am in shock.” You lifted your head and looked into the sockets of his eyes where a pink glimmer shone.
“So, why am I here?” You asked.
Atharo sighed, lowering his hands down to his side. “I am surprised you are even here. You’re the one who showed up in my home.”
“But how?” You set your hands upon your hips.
Ataro tilted his skull to the side, and glowing pink light flashed in the sockets. “I’ve been listening in on your father for quite a long time. I was able to make my own passages through your home so I could hear his plans and conversations. No one was ever supposed to find a passage between the two. I don’t know how you did.”
“Alice found a door,” you murmured. “She’s always had some fascination with the walls, particularly at night. Are you telling me that was you?”
“The door? No. Your father would sense me. As for your cat attacking walls I suppose it could be possible she was aware of my movements. But your home was filled to the brim with rats. I’m surprised she never caught any.”
“Alice was never in the business of catching anything. She simply likes to slap.” You showed the side of your hand where she scratched you the previous night. “This isn’t even her best work.”
Aharo's mouth opened as he glanced over the scratch. “Did you bleed?”
Had he been this glowing, pink, skeletal rock man for so long he’d forgotten how to be human? You thought to yourself.
“Of course I bled! What human doesn’t?”
Atharo rubbed at his jaw. “I see then. Would there be a reason you wanted a door last night?”
You frowned at him. “What do you mean?”
Atharo looked you over, and you almost thought he looked shocked. “You really have no clue, do you?”
You tiled your head to the side. “At the moment, I have a multitude of clues but no answer.”
Atharo chuckled, making it seem like the grinning features of his skeletal face grow wider with an amused smile“Please forgive me, fair lady, I’m still a bit shocked. I must confess, I was not expecting you to be so calm and accepting about this. Would you like to come to the dining hall for breakfast?” He waved out an arm down the hallway. “I will prepare whatever you want and we can discuss anything you would like so you can put those clues away.”
You glanced back down and clutched your robe around you. “I would, but I’m afraid I’m not properly dressed,” you replied shyly.
Atharo held his hand out towards you and the pink sparks on his fingertips leapt out onto your robe and nightgown. The fabric changed, shifting and changing colors. A skirt fell past your knees and changed into the color of pale roses.
“You look lovely to me,” Atharo said.
You smoothed your hands down the new dress. The fabric was soft and was much lighter than the usual dresses you wore back home.
“Thank you. It’s very nice.” You smiled at him. “I can’t remember the last time I had a new dress.”
“That is sad to hear,” Atharo replied. “Does your father not magic you anything that you need?”
Atharo tapped his fingertips together. “Does your father not show you his magic?”
You shook your head. “All I know is that he has his stone that grants him his magic. And he never lets me see anything.” You thought back on his words from the previous night. Somehow you played into it, but you only ever realized it until then.
“Your father and I are very similar, but very different beings.” Atharo led you from the bedroom and into the hall. The hallway shifted so that more windows opened and light from outside poured in through glass that cast rainbows along the floor.
Atharo turned as a window turned into a door. “He steals his magic, I cultivate mine.” he opened the door into a cozy, warm room with a small table.
The dining hall back home was so expansive and cold. You hated having meals there because of the distance and chill. But this little room was perfect.
Atharo pulled out a chair for you. “What would you like to have, my dear? Name it and I’ll provide.”
“Oh…green tea?” You asked.
The teacup appeared in his hand again and Atharo set it before you. It was still full from last night, and still piping hot. “What would you like to eat?”
Your father always ate sparingly, and the meals we provided were somewhat flavorless and pale. In one of your story books, the main character’s grandmother made her treats from apples and cinnamon that you always wanted to try.
“Something with apples?”
Atharo stood back and held his hands apart. Pink crystals formed a tray between them and the soft glow formed a dome over the top. He set the tray down before you and the dome popped.
Atharo sat down beside you as you blinked the pink shimmer from your eyes. “I haven’t had a guest in quite some time,” he said. “Excuse me if it seems like I am trying too hard to impress.”
Sitting before you was a plate full of different treats, pancakes with dripping apple chunks and glaze, bacon, apple tarts, and a bowl of rice pudding. You set your tea cup aside and took a bite of bacon, sighing in content at how good it tasted.
“This is very nice, thank you.”
“Just ask and I will provide.” Atharo folded his hands over the table, watching you as you ate. “Like I said, you are my guest here.”
You lift your head to look him in the eye. While it’s hard to tell what expression he is holding, you feel like you can almost see the subtle changes in his bones and the pink crystals.
“I’m still confused as to why you’d be so kind when I am the daughter of your biggest enemy. Aren’t you afraid? Or, wouldn’t it be better to hold me captive and ask for a ransom?”
Atharo placed his hand around his mouth while he laughed. “I would not be so awful as to hold a lovely woman like you captive. I also have no reason to! Your father has nothing I could possibly want, now. Without you, your father is powerless. Why should I try and frighten you at all when there is no reason to? I would rather have you as my friend.”
You dabbed your mouth with a napkin. “What do you mean? How is he powerless without me?”
Atharo chuckled. “Because he has no real magic without you. All that your father is, he has taken by force. This includes you. A woman like you is very rare indeed, and he stopped at nothing to have you so he could maintain the power he has.”
“But I’m nothing,” you laughed.
Atharo held up a finger. “But that is what he wanted you to believe, my dear. But he has lied to you. You are far more than some ordinary lady. You are a Blood Grail.”
You gawked at him. “I’m a what?”
Atharu took your hand into his and held it up. “A once in a lifetime magic user. You are able to bestow gifts and miracles with the blood that flows through you. Your father stole you so he could keep that power all to himself.” He then held your hand gently between both of his palms.
“Which is why, without you, he is no longer a threat to me.”
Slowly, the small clues all came together to form a picture. Every month, your father prepared a cup for you that would catch the blood your body shed monthly. You would then pour the cup into a jar for him so he could safely dispose of it. But that wasn’t the truth at all.
You then gently brushed the scratch on the side of your hand. “My father and Daniels chased me last night. I was so scared I wished I could hide somewhere safe.”
“It wasn’t your cat that brought you here, it was you. Your blood opened a door, and somewhere inside you, you knew this place would be safe for you. Away from your father, and with someone who could protect you from him.”
“I was so exhausted last night, I don’t even know what I was thinking,” you breathed. “I’m sorry I intruded!”
“That’s okay, my dear. I don’t mind having you at all. An old lich like me is flattered. Stay as long as you want, and if you’d like, I can help you understand the remarkable powers you hold.” He held out his hands. “Friends?”
You took hold of his hand. “Friends.”
For the first time since you could remember, you stepped outside. Your bare feet touched the grass and your skin was bathed in warm sunlight. Alcie raced out of the castle like a bat out of hell and threw herself into the lush foliage of the garden.
You breathed in deep, closing your eyes as you let everything wash over you. In the distance you heard the voices of a village just below. Their voices carried with them songs, and sweet talk, the sound of life beyond a stormy keep. The scent of the earth all around you, the fragrant blossoms, and the fresh water that flower from the fountain, all it was almost overwhelming.
You laid back in the grass, listening to the voices outside the garden. Alice hissed and ran about, kicking up grass as she wildly surveyed her new kingdom. She was no longer bound to your room and cold, dark hallways anymore. Neither were you.
“There are flowers with thorns out there,” Atharo’s deep voice rumbled in your mind. “Why don’t you pick one?”
Your eyes opened, and while you couldn’t see Atharo near you, you knew he was there. Since staying with him, you’ve become acutely aware of him. His hands, his posture, the way he moved all spoke to a part of your mind that only your picture book ramblings spoke to.
You saw flowers near you and when you reached out to pluck one, a thorn pricked the tip of your finger. Your blood fell onto the stem and the flower petals fell, spilling onto the ground where they melted together, fluffed, and puffed up into a pure white cat.
Pages had fallen from one of your books before, and when a page cut into your finger you found Alice almost immediately after, but none of the pages of your book.
“You can do so much more, my dear,” Atharo’s voice tickled along the back of your neck. “Your power is far greater than cats and magic doors.”
Alice saw the new cat and lunged at them. The two terrorized that garden until they both started bathing one another in a patch of sunlight.
“How greater?” You asked into the air. “What else can I do?”
“What would you want to do?” Anthro answers back. “You can mold the magic to do as you please. You just have to know what it is deep inside you.”
You watched the two cats coiling together, purring and snuggling. A yearning grew in your chest to cuddle like that.
“But how did my father use my magic?”
“He took your blood to power a stone, one that granted him his magic properties. While you can make magic of your own, your blood can also feed other magic.” Atharo said to you.
You rolled onto your side, closing your eyes again. “Could it feed yours?”
“Of course.”
You felt a flickering pain in your lower abdomen. “Do you want it?”
“Not really. I have what I need.”
You opened your eyes and saw Atharo standing there in the doorway. You rose from the grass and approached him.
“Why did my father hate you?” You asked bluntly. “Because from what I can tell, you don’t seem the type to be going into vicious battles with him.”
His smile grew. “I hate him, do not doubt that, my dear. He destroyed something very precious to me, and he killed many people I cared about. One of which was your mother.”
Your heart’s pounding came to a sudden icy stop. “You knew her?”
Atharo led you down a winding hallway, one that grew the further you traversed it. Windows opened and birds flew between them, as did vines creep slowly inside.
“She and I had been best friends since childhood. We both studied magic together under our master. We grew up together, did everything together. I continued to study when she fell in love and married. When I came back she was pregnant with you, and I was given a prophecy. But it wasn’t enough.” He stood still in the hallway, looking out a window and far into the distance.
“Everyone and everything was shucked and bled, because he knew you were the Blood Grail. I was almost dead, burnt and unable to move. But my anger and hatred was strong, and I called out for revenge.”
Atharo held his skeletal hands before himself, looking into the palms. “I gave my mortality for power, and transformed into this.”
You placed your hand in his. “It could have been worse.”
He laughed and squeezed your hand back. “All I wanted was to bring you home, my dear. But he kept you hidden so far away. I’m sorry it took me so long. You’re an adult now, you don’t need me for anything.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” The hallway ended and opened up into his tower room. A second chair appeared next to Atharo’s, as well as a small table with a plate of cookies upon it.
“You’re here at least. But I can’t rest until that man is dealt with.”
You were eating cookies while listening to him.
Atharo smiled. “How have you been enjoying your time here?”
You dusted crumbs from your cheek. “I’m very happy here. I know I haven’t been here long, but I don’t think I could bear to leave.”
“You never have to. My home is your home. I want to share it with you for as long as you will stay. I’ll make you happy here.”
You lick your lips so he can see. “It almost sounds like we are a couple.”
“Oh,” he laughed and sat stiff in his chair. “In a way I suppose.”
“You said you were lonely here,” you murmured. “I know a thing or two about feeling lonely.”
“It’s been a long time since I looked forward to seeing a kind face. Watching you eat breakfast has become a needed ritual for me.”
“What if you didn’t have to wait until breakfast to see me?” You asked.
The giant crystal before you flashed brightly. “Now what do you mean, my dear?” Atharo fidgeted in his seat, raising his hands to fondle the jewelry draping down from his neck.
You shrugged and your cheeks grew unbearably warm. “If we shared a bed, then you wouldn’t have to wait until breakfast to see me.”
“You’re suggesting we share a bed,” he mumbled. He cleared his throat and shook his head. “Why are you even suggesting that?”
You smiled at him. “Because I like you.”
Atharo’s pale pink turned almost bright red. “Are you mad?”
You chuckled and shook your head. “I want to be touched. I want to be held. And when I think about you, specifically, doing it I grow so warm all over that my body begins to tingle.”
“I am not made to be a lover,” he said bluntly. “I can not…touch and hold in a way that would make anybody feel anything.”
“Isn’t it up to me to feel things?” You stood from your chair and moved to his side. “May I sit in your lap?”
Atharo turned his head away. “I doubt it will be comfortable. But you can try.”
You sat down upon his lap, curling up against him and resting your head upon his shoulder. His hand trembled above your body before clutching down tight upon the arm of the chair. He kept his head turned away or his gaze averted.
“Have you had your fill yet?” He huffed.
“Please let me stay.”
“Don’t say that so sweetly,” Atharo scoffed. “Do as you please I suppose.”
You took his hand and placed it upon your side. Atharo’s fingers tensed upon you. As they lingered he relaxed. He stroked down your side to your thigh then quickly moved his hand back up.
“See. It is nice,” you chuckled.
“Maybe so. But I wouldn’t suit you as a lover if that is what you are driving at. How would I ever please you in my state?” He scoffed.
You sat up a bit, tilting his head down and placing a soft kiss upon his teeth. You licked your tongue over them and felt something soft and wet against your cheek. From the side of his mouth a clear, tongue shaped tendril poked out. Atharo slammed his palm to his cheek, knocking it back inside.
“And what is that?” You smirked.
“Nothing.” The clear, pink mass jiggled in his mouth, poking out the other side and touching your lips. It formed around his teeth, making a pair of lips. Athaor clapped his hand around this new mouth. “I don’t know what’s gotten over me.”
“Let me see.” You pulled his hand down and traced your fingers over the lips. The pink goo was spreading to his fingers, giving them shape beyond the bone and crystal.
“Is it alright if I kiss you again?” You asked.
Atharo tilted his head down so you could kiss. You smoothed your hand along his cheek, sitting up more for leverage. His hand clutched around your hip and he moaned in such a way it vibrated through your whole body.
You pull away and sigh with relief. “Please, I want you to touch me.”
He sat up more, holding you in his lap. “How?”
You began unbuttoning your dress, letting it open to your breasts. Atharo’s fingers gently brush against the soft flesh and again his voice vibrates through your body. He brushes against your nipple, watching as it stiffens to his touch. He cups your breasts in his hands then pushed your dress down around your waist.
“It’s been so long, I forgot how soft skin was.” He kissed your shoulder and chest, lapping your skin, careful the crystals didn’t scrape against you.
His touch was cool but it excited you all the more. You had dreamed of what this moment would be like, and now you had your answers.
“I have a gift for you,” you whispered to him.
He lifted his head. “This is more than enough, my dear.”
I smiled and shook your head. “My blood is beginning. I want you to take it.”
Atharo placed his hands firmly upon your shoulders. “I told you I didn’t need it or want it.”
“It doesn't bother me if you do. I want you to have it.” You kissed him again, pressing your breasts into his chest. “I want you to be powerful.”
Atharo pushed you back. “Why?”
You looked into his eyes. “Because.”
He chuckled and planted a soft kiss upon your lips. “You don’t have to do this to make me like you. I adore you already.”
In the corner of the room a bed rose up from the floor, forming from the wall and floorboards. As it grew and fluffed up, Atharo picked you up from the chair. He laid you down upon the covers and your dress vanished in a flash of pink light.
“Just this once. Maybe you just need once.” His robe unfurled from his body, and the jewelry draped down along his long, thin frame.
“You’re beautiful,” you said.
Athaor laughed. “You say that looking as you are right now? Silly girl.” He smoothed his hand down your body, slowly opening you up as you laid into the bed. “It’s been a while. But I think I can remember my way.” His fingers went between your thighs and curved around your plump mound.
“Such warmth,” he groaned. “So welcoming.” He opened your thighs so he could see. He yanked you forward and his long tongue spread apart his jaw, thrusting forward as he dipped his head down.
You whimpered as it first touched you, laying upon your mound then squirming until it opened you up. It rubbed there so you could feel it, every so slightly pushing its way inside.
“I taste it,” his deep voice traveled through your limbs. “I taste you.” His voice became a low growl and his body changed in color. The pale pink became bright, and the bones of his body crackled and grew fissures that glowed bright red.
You threw your head back, moaning as his tongue pushed deep inside you.
“I never dreamed I would drink from the Blood Grail, yet here I am.” His bones grew thicker and his hands became larger, the bright glow was becoming almost white and warm like the sun.
“Atharo,” you whimpered.
He raised his head, moaning deeply as he looked down upon you. He placed himself between your thighs and you felt something there. His voice pulsed through your veins as he pressed inside you. His hands pulled your thighs apart and held your ankles above you. He thrust inside hard, shaking you and the bed. You cried out with another hard thrust and his laugh boomed through your limbs. He was growing thicker inside the more your magic flowed through his body.
“Is this what you sought?” His voice rumbled.
You looked up at him, sniffling slightly. You trembled as you raised your hand, placing it upon his arm. “I just wanted you to hold me,” you said shyly. “In your arms…and whispering to me how good it felt.”
His eyes flashed. “You should have said so.” he groaned as he lowered down. “These old bones feel new again. I felt impulsive and young.” He laid upon you, taking hold of you in his arms. “But all you wanted was some comfort.”
You held him in return, moaning softly against his ear. “It feels nice. It’s strange, but I like you inside me.”
Atharo growled so it tickled your spine. “I like being inside you, my dear. This warmth, this rush of magic…I almost feel dizzy.”
“Go slow.” You cup his face in your hands. “Look at me. Just slowly…like that.” You moaned as his hips moved and pressed inside again.
“Darling,” he breathed. “Your blood is making veins within me. I feel a pulse again.”
You nuzzled into his neck. “I feel it.”
Atharo placed his hand upon your lower back, moaning into your ear. “I feel as though I might burst.”
“Me too,” you panted. “It’s right there…I feel it!” Your back arched off the bed and your legs locked around him. Time went by differently then and everything rushed around you in a haze.
You gazed into the endless ceiling of the tower breathing again as Atharo’s pulse throbbed inside you. He pulled away, his body radiating a deep red shade that began to fade to soft, pale pink again. His body was larger than before and the crystals upon his head formed a helm around his head.
“So this is what that bastard sought all this time,” he chuckled. “I can’t blame him.” he pulled himself from you and rubbed his strong hands down your body. He kneaded your legs and chuckled. “What a gift you’ve given me.”
You held your arms open to him and he laid back upon you. He placed soft kisses to your lips and chest and chest.
“More than once,” you whispered. “More than a day.”
His voice whispered in your head. “I know, my darling. I know.”
(A little snippet about a peculiar house at the edge of town, and the loss of a dear friend.)
You stand in front of a black pool of water that stretches out before you, the ripples of the water displacing the surface.
You hold a candle in your hands, one hand cupping the flame as it gutters in the wind. You close your eyes, letting the wind rush past you. The chill in the air cutting through your clothes, gooseflesh raising on your arms. A supporting hand rests on your shoulder and your eyes slowly open, turning your head to look at the figure standing beside you.
“There you are. . . You shouldn’t be out here, you’ll catch your death of cold.”
The dark hood pulled up to their face ripples in the wind, revealing the hollow sockets and chiseled boney features.
“Are you sure?” You murmur faintly,
The skull turns to stare unexpressionately at you, their haunting voice soft, “Of course.”
“You wouldn’t. . . bring me back?”
There was a heavy pause that hung in the air as the approaching storm swirled heavy grey clouds over-head.
“The butler chose to die my dear,” The hand on the shoulder tightens, “I can’t force that kind of life on someone who wants to leave. That would be cruel.”
You look down at the candle in your hands, “It’s just you and me now. . .”
“Yes, but we still have each other, correct?”
You look up, trying to force your mouth into a smile, you feel your lips twitch as your breaks, your eyes scrunch tightly closed. You are pulled into the dark robe and a hug as you reclaim yourself.
You kneel gently, setting the candle down adrift on the lake, you stand together, watching the candle sail gently across the water. Boney fingers tug on your shoulder, gently urging you to turn. You let yourself be led back to the mansion that looms over you, the windows dark and curtains drawn.
From your room, looking down from the second story, watching the faint light of the candle until it disappears. You hug your knees, curling up against the chilled window. Blankly staring at the rain that begins to plink against the window frame. A faint pressure landing against the pillowed bench you sit upon. The boney frame of a skeleton cat rubs against your side. You turn over enough to pick up the creature and cuddle them to you. Their head bumping against you and purring faintly.
