AN: I based this on Bleedman's Grim Tales and SonicRoses's story. It's an attempt on giving an explanation as to how the hell can Grim reproduce and an attempt at smut or something like it.

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Necrophilia-

An erotic attraction to corpses

There are some memories that are impossible to forget and there are some moments you can remember right down to the very last detail. Mandy knew this from experience; the day she met Billy and the day they met Grim being some of those moments. Of course, sometimes the moments aren't all that important, but she remembered them anyway.

Like the day she was proved wrong about her theory on Santa Claus, or when she opened Pandora's box and almost caused the world to fall into total chaos, and even when Eris, the goddess of chaos, tried to get her to endorse her "Happy Huggy Stuffy Bears" so they could rule the world. (But she declined the opportunity because she would not be the one in control.)

Some moments were just so bizarre that it would be impossible to forget.

But a meaningless conversation she rudely entered?

She didn't expect to recall that so clearly.

She could remember standing in front of her open locker looking for some book whose title she could not recall, (and is of no importance) yet she could here the voices talking behind her as clear as day.

Mindy was talking to her brainless clones and telling them about how she planned her first time would be like and was obnoxiously trying to grab as much attention as possible. The clones looked on, wide-eyed and mouths a gap as Mindy drawled on. She must have been dating some poor sap and was planning to consummate their relationship.

Mandy could remember hearing her brag and swoon over how she planned to set up scented candles to fill the room with a "rich vanilla scent" and some romantic music she could hear in the background as they made sweet love under the stars, sharing whispered nothings; how her boyfriend would be gentle and sensual and they'd fall asleep in each other's arms: a blissful embrace.

Mandy remembers this because she turned around and told Mindy that she was delusional and she was not gonna get a romantic night like it happens in the movies or those rubbish romance novels all the girls carried around.

There would be no scented candles or romantic music just sweat and cum, then Mindy babbling on and on once it's done and him lifting his pants and leaving her alone. Then he'd come boasting the next day about another notch under his belt.

She could hear Mindy's voice as if she was right in front of her at that very moment telling her she was just jealous because she had a hot boyfriend and Mandy would probably be a lonely virgin forever with lots of dogs that don't even like her to keep her company.

She remembers all of this because the next day, Mindy's boyfriend bragged about how they did it in the back of his car in some alley and Mandy smirked because she was right again.

Why this particular moment was forever burned into her mind, she did not know. It didn't mean anything. And Mindy was dead, along with all her family, Billy, Irwin, and all the other neighborhood kids she tormented.

Perhaps she remembered this because Mindy was wrong twice. She wasn't a virgin anymore, not that she was proud of it or anything; sex isn't exactly graceful or pretty. In fact, it was downright dirty and humiliating (even painful) sometimes.

Sex is… insufficient.

There are much greater pleasures, like exploiting the stupid, domination, total control…. those last. Sex only lasts as long as your stamina does. The control is short and the domination ends shortly after climax.

She knows this because she's lying on her back, breathing heavily as her husband looks down at her flushed features and open legs with wet thighs with a smirk on his face.

She's long grown used to it, so it doesn't really bother her anymore.

She lets him get away with it, and she goes along with it anyway, mostly for her husband she tells herself, she owes it to him, and partly because despite being so insufficient… it isn't so bad. (Sure he might turn her into a sweaty, flushed mess, but she could have him on his knees eagerly whenever she wanted and for whatever she wanted. And who doesn't enjoy an occasional power struggle once in a while?) For the most part, she likes to think of sex as a game. And it's one game she's gotten good at over the years. And Mandy never looses.

She remembers that her first time (or what she considered to be her first time) wasn't with him. She was 20, she remembers that too, but the experience… she forgets details…

She was young, naïve compared to her current state, and mortal. She was only beginning her rein of terror on earth yet she already had her own army, something she was actually quite proud of. She had appointed Nergal Jr. as general of said army and he had served her well… with the right blackmail and manipulation.

But there came a point where the blackmail became inefficient, probably because he was so feared as a destructive force or because he had nothing to fear anymore and no one to taunt him and the power went to his head. He was so high on the fear and power he thought he could scare her.

"What if I don't want to work for you anymore?" he sneered. "What can you give me, that could keep me here?" his tentacles swirled around him in an attempt to frighten her.

She was unmoved.

"What more do you want? I've given you power, everyone is afraid of you… what, are you lonely? Do you want a friend?" he gritted his teeth. "What do you want me to give you? My friendship? Please…" she scoffed.

"No, your friendship doesn't interest me."

"Well, what do you want? You're wasting my time, I have more important things to do than show you you're place. Just why the hell would you want to give up your post in my army anyway? This is a good thing for you."

"It's a good thing for both of us. It's a lot easier to have me on your side rather than against you, isn't it?" He snaked one of his tentacles under her chin, which she slapped away harshly.

"Get to the point, and for goodness sake, grow a backbone and look at me in the eyes already you coward."

Mandy glared at him impatiently and he finally looked at her in the eyes, but turned away moments later slightly shaken.

"I want something else from you." he took a step closer, careful not to stare into her eyes, and wrapped a slimy tentacle around her waist, trying to get a reaction from her. "It's not much, its just…. sometimes power isn't enough, you know ….no, you don't. There are other pleasures in life, and I want to have them." He gave her a green-toothed smirk and she rolled her eyes at him.

"This low, even for you Junior. I should've expected you'd fall prey to such pathetic needs. You do realize that it's not the same as the companionship you so desperately seek and I won't beg you to stop or continue, you hold no control over me."

She could recall that he smiled, like he held some awesome threat over her and that at some point he did get what he wanted, because she knew what would happen.

He didn't like it.

That she remembered clearly. The feel of slimy tentacles on her skin, like slugs crawling all over her body. Glaring at him the whole time as he fumbled her form awkwardly. She did nothing, as he desperately tried to find the pleasure he was looking for but came out emptier than before. She wasn't his lover and she wasn't willing to be.

Her glare had unnerved him and found he couldn't even finish what he started. She prided herself over her control of the situation and he shamed himself over his lack of.

It wasn't exactly a memory she was proud of and she regrets it to a certain degree. But the effects of her actions had been strong and whenever she reminded him of the moment she could see his submission; he would do anything she said subserviently.

"Are you done?" she had asked him, and he wordlessly nodded. She gave him orders for another mission her army was to complete and he loyally followed through with them.

Junior continued to lead her army, even in the underworld were she was now queen, with no complaints. She even made him the godfather of her son, in gratitude for his services and in light of their history.

Her second experience playing the game was with her husband, the Grim Reaper.

It seems strange that she would marry him, but really, it was pretty obvious it would've happened sooner or later. The pairing made perfect sense when you think about it.

Before she met Grim she remembers sharing the worlds perception of the messenger of death.

He was dark, and he was ugly. He was powerful and he was evil.

It's actually kinda funny how meeting someone can cause you to change you're perception of that person, or being in this case.

Yes, he was dark. He was supernatural after all.

Yes, he was ugly. No flesh, no eyeballs, bad breath… he was an old skeleton, a very old skeleton.

Was he powerful? Obviously. It was part of the reason she decided to marry him. When he proposed to her she could see the power emitting from his form, it surrounded him like a shield, and it both frightened her and attracted her to him at that moment.

Evil?

Maybe. She could never be too sure about that one.

But when she met Grim and they became friends her perception of the Grim Reaper changed. He was whiney and he was spineless and she, a ten-year-old girl, controlled him. It didn't exactly inspire ones respect.

But he changed, developed some sort of feeling for her when she grew (affection?), and she learned some new things about the messenger of death.

He wasn't whiney anymore and he was spineless no longer. He would not be so merciful to any being that defied him and his presence now demanded respect.

She no longer held the power she had over him as a child, though she could still intimidate him.

He was an interesting lover and was eager in bed.

She's not sure where that came from.

"Is this really necessary, Grim?"

She could remember asking him that before they conceived their first child, propped up against a pillow in their bed, under dark velvety sheets. He was leaning over her, a black mass blocking her view of the room and fondling her. How odd it felt the first time the reaper had his skeletal hand over her clothed breast, taking in its shape and feel, examining her as one examines the water in a bath tub before stepping in, and squeezing, his sharp fingers digging into her, making her inhale sharply as he answered.

"No, it's just something you do once you're married, well, you don't have to be married but… you know what I mean!"

A few nights before that he had looked at her oddly, as if reconsidering her and making some decision, and then, he kissed her on the lips.

He'd never done such a thing before. There was no romance or affection in their marriage.

He'd said his goodnights in an eerily cheerful manner before falling asleep next to her, leaving her dazed with her fingers over her lips. He must have been planning for them to take that final step, she realized, and finally decided they were ready.

She knew that if she went through with this, she would be a mother in less than a year, and honestly, she was less than thrilled about the idea at the time. She had never liked children, even as a child.

She asked him if the idea bothered him? After all, he'd know her since she was a little girl. He told her he'd been around since the beginning of time, making him older than any human, plus, she was over eighteen and his immortal wife, so no, not really.

"Taken the necessary precautions so as not to be labeled a pedophile the rest of your existence, have you?"

"You're just scared you might actually like it."

He smirked. He would do so every time he looked her over from that moment on. It would take her a while to get used to it, and even longer for it not to bother her.

He'd shed his robe and removed her of her clothing in a second as a swirling vortex took them away, and she felt the weight of his rib cage over her bare chest for the first time. She had silently wished he would have kept his dark robe on, not for modesty, she'd seen him without it and there wasn't much to hide. The fabric wasn't much, but it was enough to keep her bare skin from touching his bones.

Enough to keep her mind from realizing she was going to fuck a corpse.

She remembers how he'd taken her hand and had her feel his spine; her fingers tracing the vertebras, all connected to one another, forming the long, hard column. The vulnerability she felt when she couldn't close her legs because of the figure between them keeping them apart (and relishing the idea of her pale legs wrapped around him). The feeling of his dry mouth and wet tongue over her neck and collarbone, kissing and licking her skin, and skeletal hands over her stomach, lightly grazing the bottom of her exposed breasts, but never moving over them.

No. He wasn't just a corpse. He was alive in his dead body. Very alive. No dead corpse could cause a reaction in her. So technically that didn't make her a necrophiliac, she reassured herself.

No one should have to reassure themselves this much, she thought.

When she felt his dry mouth over her lips and his wet tongue battle her own she decided it didn't really matter. Though she remembers finding out something that would perplex her for a long time.

She was immortal, but she was still human. Flesh and blood. The Grim Reaper was not.

While in the act, it was only natural; it was only normal, for her to feel warmer, for her to sweat. He on the other hand, was always cold and dry.

Right…?

He was warm. The bones she touched, the ones under the palm of her hand and the ones she caressed with her fingertips, were warm. The bones inside her were warm. Dry, but warm.

How is it possible, she had asked, that he could be warm when he had no skin, no organs, no muscles, no blood flow, no pulse. It just is, he said, as a supernatural being the laws of physics that are so restricting to mortals do not apply to him.

While it did answer her question she felt it didn't really answer anything. It was intriguing though. The way his… body worked. It just couldn't be explained.

Just like she couldn't explain her heavy breathing, or the shudders moving up her body, or why Grim was so hell-bent on sticking his femur in places it clearly did not belong!

She can remember watching him reconnect the joint to his pelvis and the horrid sound of his bones reattaching. It was disgusting. Part of the bone was wet and a slightly bloody, like a dog had had it in its mouth. And yet she couldn't stop herself from staring. She wondered if he could feel the blood and moisture on his thighbone, or if he actually felt what it was like inside her. If he didn't then what was the point of all that?

He seemed quite pleased with himself, but then again, that didn't really answer anything either (at least back then it didn't).

She knows perfectly well why she can remember all of this.

He had taken his scythe in one hand and plucked a rib from his chest with the other and used his powers to shrink it down to size. Why a rib, she had asked him. (Though she really wanted to ask who the heck came up with this insane way to conceive a child? Couldn't he just magically create one? Why did he have to put so much crap inside her anyway!?) He tells her it's a religious thing. It worked for Adam and Eve, right? Besides, it's not like he decided this. God apparently wanted to do something a bit more literal with the whole 'bones of my bones' thing when he gave him the ability to reproduce. On the plus side, at least this way there would be no doubts as to whether she was with child or not.

The memory fades away at this point, merging with the image in front of her. She glances up at her husband and gazes at his rib cage.

Two gone.

They have been gone for years.

For a moment she wonders what it must be like to have lived over 2,000 years. How much can one remember? Would she remember Billy? Her parents? The years that passed since he removed those ribs and the months they were inside her, magically mixing with her genes?

She'd find out eventually. It's not something to think about right now.

"Tired already, Mandy?" her husband snickers.

"Why? Are you, Grim?" she gives him a smirk of her own and raises an eyebrow, starting a challenge, waiting for an answer.

"Hardly. You're the one who can barely catch her breath." She has an urge to say something cruel and mocking but holds her tongue; there are other moments for that. Another time to stop playing.

"I'm perfectly fine. But if you're as energetic as you say you are then prove it." His smirk only widens at the sound of her cool voice.

He shifts so that his hipbone is right under hers (she has to lift herself slightly as it can be quite painful) and her hair falls over his remaining ribs as she fondles them between her fingers.

She goes back to earlier thoughts about their game. Insufficient… yes. Still, it's an interesting way to pass the time. But did it make her a necrophiliac?

At this point she doesn't really care. She may as well be. She would probably forget how odd it seemed at first as each year, decade, century, passes by.

And besides, she's gotten pretty used to the idea of feeling bones under her fingers and between her thighs.

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