#necrobastard

[snoodles-and-egos]

Iplier Masterlist: Part Two

The Host: Ink Mini Assignment Slip Caramel

The Author: Spine

Damien: Admirer Only Record Confession Spill Sweet Tense Cage Ancient History

Yancy: Patches Couch Snowbird Stray Choose

Wilford Warfstache: Interview Photograph Military Fight

Illinois James: Hat Postcards Amber Breakout Pan Blackjack Catch

Bing: Splash Pancakes Kazoo

Necromancer: Hole Eyes Beloved Crystal Familiar Breakfast

Heehoo: Technology Research Escape

Heist!Mark Freeze

[snoodles-and-egos]

Rock Candy

I couldn't figure out how to put actual rock candy into medieval times, so you get this.

Necromancer (Mortimer) x GN!Reader, TW: brief mention of skeletons Words: 402

“You ever just wanna eat rocks?”

Mortimer does a spit take with his mug of brew as you ask him that, trying not to look at you bug-eyed.

“My beloved, please tell me you did not just ask me if I want to eat rocks…”

“No, I did.”

He just looks at you with so much adoration and a slight bit of pity, perhaps for you or himself. Because while you may be the rock eater, he’s in love with a rock eater.

“Why do you wish to eat rocks, my love?”

“Well we already do! Ice is technically a rock, which makes water lava. Salt is a rock, and we use that to season our food. And some could make the argument that sugar is a rock too!”

You sense that he wishes you didn’t have a point, but just sighs and kisses your head.

“Then how about we make something with our rocks, yes? Perhaps some sort of sweetness to satiate your craving?”

You can’t help but grin and nod as he pulls you up onto your feet, bringing you over to his cauldron. His shelves are lined with strange jars and worn looking bags with twine tying them closed. Plants sit by the entrance to the cave and reach for the sun. He gathers up a few things, putting herbs and spices into a mortar for you to grind. In the grand cauldron, he takes water from the falls and pours in sugar, stirring it as it bubbles. 

“Flavorings done, my love?”

“Mhmm, here you go.”

You hand him the ground up herbs and spices, and he carefully pours them into the bubbling cauldron. He stirs around, and a pair of skeletons lifts it up and brings it to the other side of the mountain, where it’s always cold and the snow piles up. Mortimer takes a ladle from the cauldron area, and pours it out onto the snow. It melts the ice beneath a little bit, but starts to cool quickly until it’s malleable and safe to touch. He gestures for you to pick it up, and you happily bite into the chewy candy.

“Is that enough rocks for you, love of mine? Ice, sugar, and a little salt for balance.”

“It’s perfect. I hope you know we’re making this more often now.”

You feed him a bite as he chuckles, softly chewing.

“Anything for you, my love.”

[snoodles-and-egos]

Asleep

Softest man in existence.

Necromancer (Mortimer) x GN!Reader, TW: none Words: 349

It’s rare when Mortimer can catch you asleep on your own. Wrapped up in his cloak and the mountains of blankets he uses to make the cold cave more bearable for you. He doesn’t mind it, he runs warm anyways. But you all nested up sets his heart aflutter. 

He sits on the edge of the bed, rubbing his hand over your sleeping body. It rests on your waist for a moment, before going back to soothing you by gentle touches to your arm. You stir for just a second, and he freezes, not wishing to wake you. But you settle right back in, with your hand outstretched to some unknown thing.

“...mmmmerrrrr…”

You give the sleepiest little grabby hand, and he can’t help but be endeared. He doesn’t have anything that needs his attention this exact moment, and should probably rest if you’re doing so anyways. He removes anything that may dirty the blankets and puts on a new set of clothes, slowly climbing into the bed from the foot and settling behind you. He attempts to not disturb you too much, just hoping to join you in your peaceful slumber.

You sigh as he wraps you up in his arms, immediately melting against him and wiggling back until you’re right up against him. He takes this as an opportunity to squeeze you tighter against him, kissing the back of your head. With his one free hand. He pulls the blankets over the two of you, despite his predisposition to overheating. Willing to wake up a bit sweaty just to ensure your comfort over his own.

You shiver a little bit as you settle under the blankets, and he makes sure you’re all tucked in. Your own comfort is slowly lulling him to sleep, and he finds himself burying his face in your hair. His bones feel like they’re made of lead, and the mattress beneath him feels like the world’s strongest magnet that works on only him. He closes his eyes, and falls asleep beside you with a final kiss to your head.

“Good night, my heart…”

[snoodles-and-egos]

Crypt

Pretend it's still November.

Necromancer x GN!Reader, TW: mentions of death, bodies, etc. Words: 518

Mortimer takes your hand, guiding you through the doors to the cemetery and between the rows of graves. On the headstones you see memorials to ones who have been loved and loved much themselves. Pictures, like cameos of their last remaining smile memorialized in their brightest form. They look well maintained, with flowers on every grave and wild daisies and clover interspersed in the grass. Despite the place being associated with endings and sorrow, you can’t help but see new beginnings and joy in the little things.

In his other hand is a small basket, woven and dyed a deep brown, with small crystal adornments hanging from the base of the handles. He occasionally looks back at you with a soft smile, squeezing your hand to bring your attention back to him.

“You doing alright, love?”

“Hmm? Yeah. Just admiring it all. It’s beautiful, in a way I don’t think a lot of people appreciate. Like you.”

His cheeks flush, turning away bashfully. The two of you approach a crypt, and he sets a hand on the door, brushing away some stray dust. With a deep breath, the runes in the door begin to glow purple and you hear a deep rumble as the door shifts. It settles inside, sliding to the right as the cavernous room opens to the outside air for the first time in who knows how long. He snaps his fingers, and several torches light in an instant with a glowing green fire.

“Give me one moment, dearest. Don’t want you getting cobwebs on you.”

He hands you the basket, which you hold in front of you as he works his way around the crypt, dusting off the surfaces. It’s uncharacteristically clean for a crypt, possibly maintained as frequently as the rest of the graveyard. There’s no bodies inside, which is a relief as you weren’t particularly looking forward to having a picnic with Mortimer and his pet dead body Steve, or whatever that situation could have possibly been. 

Mortimer gestures for you to sit at one side of this carved table, taking the basket from your hands with a kiss to your forehead. He shakes out the cloth, placing it on the table and then setting the dishes out for the two of you. It’s cute, in a rather grim way. But at the same time, he’s a necromancer, being grim is kind of his thing. 

You assist with pulling the food out as he pours the two of you drinks, still letting the natural light mix with the green from the torches, casting a flickering light that makes his eyes twinkle. He smiles as you steal a strawberry, watching as the juices from the fruit add a slight tint to your lips. You grin as he holds your chin, kissing away the remnants of the strawberry from your lips. 

“I know it’s not a typical picnic location, so I hope it’s alright for you.”

“It’s a perfect place with you. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, it’d just feel out of place.”

“Then perhaps we need to come here more often.”

[snoodles-and-egos]

Smooch

Love me a kissy gothic man, so you know I had to pull out the Gomez Addams treatment out here.

Necromancer (Mortimer) x GN!Reader, TW: skeleton mention Words: 314

Mortimer takes your hand, dressed to the nines in a deep purple velvet suit. Chains adorn his neck instead of a tie, a link of metallic vertebrae with two skulls connected to the corners of his collar. You feel almost underdressed with how he just breathes an air of elegance around you, enveloping you in it. 

His kiss starts at your ring, then moving to each of your knuckles, then your palm. You briefly hold his cheek, as he reaches for your waist, pressing his lips once again to the inside of your wrist. He moves up your arm and shoulder, stopping at your neck just to hear you sigh out before continuing at your neck.

“My heart, dearest love…”

“You’re making me blush…”

“Mayhaps that’s the point.”

You feel his lips at your pulse before moving up your jaw, eventually meeting your lips. Your eyes refuse to leave him, holding back giggles as your brain breaks a little with each kiss. Mortimer leans in, nuzzling your nose with a softer, quick kiss to your lips again.

“I hope that wasn’t too much…”

“It was perfect.”

“Then I should do it more often then?”

“I am certainly not saying no to that offer.”

The two of you smile as he dips you down, hooking your leg over his hip as he steals your breath away. You’re not quite sure what you did to deserve the Gomez Addams treatment, but you could certainly get used to it. He seems to take pride in how happy you look, smiling contently at the way you just sigh at him lovingly, with joy radiating your gaze. He thinks about righting the two of you back up, but lets out a muffled noise of surprise when you yank him back down to kiss you again.

You might be busy for a while, I’d suggest investing in some lip balm.

[snoodles-and-egos]

Ring

Prepare to have thine expectations, DIVERTED. No, he's not proposing. I bestow marriage already upon thee.

Necromancer (Mortimer) x GN!Reader, TW: none Words: 494

You lay on the floor of his cavernous lair, looking up at the glittering crystals that line the walls and counting them like stars in the sky. Sometimes when the world becomes a bit too much, it helps to just have some floor time and appreciate the beauty around you, no matter how small. Mortimer dips in from the other room, peering over to make sure you’re awake before making his way over to you. He gets down on one knee, tilting his head as he offers his hand to you.

“Need help, my dear?”

“No, I wanted to be here. Down here I don’t have to be a person, and right now, that’s what I want.”

He hums, still scooping up your hand to give your knuckles a kiss before lying down next to you. You feel him sneak his arm underneath you, dragging you onto his cloak and off the cold stone floor, providing a slight barrier from the chill. Your hand falls onto his chest as you’re tucked against his side, still not moving your gaze from the ceiling of the cave above. Watching as they all twinkle. You appreciate these moments with him, even if he doesn’t fully understand, he meets you where you’re at. One of the reasons you love him so much.

After a while, he lifts up the hand that was resting on his chest, fiddling with your ring and watching it glimmer in the torch light. It draws your attention, watching as he tilts it in just the right way to catch the flame. He crafted it himself, wanting it to be something personal to you, and a testament of his devotion and appreciation for you. It takes a lot to love a monster like him, he says. Perhaps you simply don’t see him as a monster, but he’s still taking a bit to believe you on that front. 

“You know, if you ever want a new ring, you just have to ask me, my heart.”

“But I like this one, I like it because it’s mine. And you made it for me.”

“What if I make you a new one? I can assure you my craftsmanship has improved since our wedding.”

“Only if you’re unhappy with it, I will still wear it regardless. But if you were to make a complimentary band for an anniversary, I would wear both.”

“Then perhaps I have a new project to work on before our anniversary.”

Mortimer sets down your hand on his other side and holds you closer, holding your head against his chest in an affectionate squeeze. You can’t help but bury your face in him, readjusting your arms to cuddle him more comfortably.

“Maybe I’ll make you a new one too…”

“Maybe, but I think you need rest first, my heart.”

As he places his hand back onto your head, you feel his sleeping spell overtake you, allowing your exhaustion to finally give way to rest.

[snoodles-and-egos]

Market

I don't think I write him as a bastard often enough, which is honestly a crime.

Necromancer (Mortimer) x GN!Reader, TW: skeletons Words: 703

Mortimer guides your two steeds down the mountain, making sure your horse stays close by to his. You have tried to tell him before that you don’t need him to lead you down, but he won’t have it. As he busies himself with the treacherous road ahead, you take in the views. Your cloak stays atop your head, protecting you from the dark swamp’s rainfall. He looks back at you, smiling when you seem alright.

You make your way into the city, and stalls line the sides of the road. The bone hooves clomp against the stone roads, rattling a little more compared to the softer mud and dirt. People give you weird looks as they always do, and you pull your cloak up over your head a little more to hide your face. Mortimer seems to pay them no mind, giving out the occasional middle finger to whomever tries to piss him off.

The horses are gone in a flash of lightning after you dismount, and he takes your hand. He notices you hiding your face, and adjusts your hood so he can see you.

“Dearest, they won’t even get close to touching you here. Not while I’m here. No need to hide.”

“I’m not sure I want these people to know what I look like, Mer…”

“If I thought that would become an issue, I would have given you a mask. But if that would still make you feel better, I can make one for you.”

You nod, and he stomps his staff on the rocks beneath your feet. A skeleton crawls out from under the ground, stopping at about the hips. He grabs the skull, using the end of his staff to shatter half of it, holding it up to the lower half of your face.

“This should work, one moment.”

Mortimer turns to a stall, snatching up a swatch of cloth and some ribbon. Using crude methods, he attaches the jaws to the cloth, and ties it around your face. It’s not entirely uncomfortable, but certainly weird wearing someone else’s face on your face. The rest of the skeleton disintegrates back into the ground, and Mortimer takes your hand while you hold a basket.

You’re here to gather ingredients that you’re low on up on the mountain. Where people once looked at you and sneered, their eyes now widen with shock and fear. Each transaction goes seamlessly, with glances continuing in your direction as they package up the produce and spices. The only one who didn’t even give you a second thought was the butcher, but he’s also easily the largest man in the city and is known for his knife-wielding skills. In no way would you even remotely be a threat to him. 

Once Mortimer realizes that you’re adjusting your grip on the basket a bit too much for his liking, he summons another skeleton and forces it into carrying it for you. The rattling right behind you is a little unnerving, but you know better than to fight him on this. After you collect the bunches of herbs that you needed, Mortimer scoops you up and takes you back to the edge of the city. 

“Mer, I can walk.”

“I’m glad your legs still work, sweetheart.”

“LEMME USE THEM-” “No, I’d rather not.”

Even at the farmer’s market you’re still not allowed to walk around on your own. You just stare over his shoulder at the skeleton still tailing you with your groceries. You’re pretty sure if it still had facial muscles, it would be looking at you uncomfortably. Whatever.

“Why can’t I walk on my own?”

“Because there’s several guards after us considering I did not pay for a few of these items-”

In a flash of lightning, a skeleton horse appears and the servant crumbles, with Mortimer narrowly catching the basket. You’re placed on the saddle in front of him as he cackles and rides away with you. You take the basket, putting your cloak over it so the groceries don’t spill out.”

“Were we running from the authorities the whole time!?”

“Mayhaps.”

You just roll your eyes, knowing it’s gonna be a hell of a lot more difficult the next time you run out.

[snoodles-and-egos]

helo

I'm curious about necromancer after doin your moodboard so may I humbly request reader and him being rivals but then a spell goes wrong and he realises he'd have no one like him around if you were gone

or similar vibes idk

Hole

Necromancer x GN!Reader, TW: angst, panic, vaguely described chest injury Words: 310

I fucking love this prompt. How dare this be so fucking tasty.

The flash of purple and green colliding in the air as beams of power fuse and dance together. Sparks and sludge fall onto the ground, burning foliage and the ground beneath your feet. He grins, the colors reflecting off his glowing irises. Your hands tremble as his magic begins to overpower yours, typical for a duel between the two of you but something feels off.

Step by step he attempts to crowd into your space, prompting you to try and match his pace so as to not feel trapped. Your foot catches on a stone, sending you flat onto your back and stopping your spell. His beam hits your chest, burning sensation spreading throughout your body within the few seconds it’s in contact with you. He stops, panic in his eyes as he crouches down. Your heart is beating out of your chest, breathing heavy as it burns, forcing you to think about nothing but the pain. You attempt to set up, and he pushes gently on your shoulder to force you back down. “No no, don’t sit up. Just keep breathing.” He stares at the gaping hole in your chest, panicking as he tries to think of a solution. Healing magic is usually not his forte, but he’s not exactly hoping for you to die so he can bring you back. But it doesn’t stop the thought from crossing his mind as a last resort. The wound is cauterized, but in order to continue living you’d need intense healing magic to fix it. He tips a potion into your mouth, hopefully numbing the pain and helping you go to sleep so he can get to work. “You’ll be alright, my dear. We’ll make sure you’re alright. We will be safer next time…” He scoops you up into his arms, making a break for his lair, hoping for a miracle.