#necromancer morty

[puer-mortifer]

The ritual is almost complete! I'm already feeling so excited! I can hardly wait...

Soon we'll be together, my love, and nothing will be able to keep us apart this time.

[boypr1ncesss]

my naming scheme for the resurrectionists causes me undue stress a lot of the time but when it works it Works

[valentineveils]

shes level 80 now YAYYYYY

[misskitxx]

Necromancer Jayce who brings Viktor back to life AU

Necromancer Jayce x Zombie Viktor, heavily inspired by this work

Viktor is dead.

Jayce does not know how to exist in a world where that is true.

The words are a blade lodged in his ribs, twisting deeper every time he breathed. Dead. A clinical term, sterile, a word for dissections and autopsy reports. It doesn’t belong here, in the oily lamplight of their shared lab, where Viktor’s shadow still lingers in the smudges of equations on chalkboards, in the half-drunk cup of tea gone moldy by the sink.

Jayce had refused to let them take the body.

He’d barred the door, roared at the councilors, the enforcers, even Heimerdinger’s mournful whimpers. “You don’t get to bury him,” he’d snarled, hammer sparking in his grip . “You didn’t know him. You didn’t love him.”

Dead. A lie. A mistake. A joke in wretched taste. The lab reeks of formaldehyde and copper, of lilies left to wilt beside the lab table—their petals browned, stems slumped like broken necks.

Now, Viktor lays on their workbench, bathed in the cold glow of alchemical lamps. Jayce had washed him himself—slowly, reverently—scrubbing the blood from his lips, the soot from his hands. But death was not kind.

Jayce spends days watching him rot.

By the first night, Viktor’s skin is still warm, his lashes casting delicate shadows as if he might wake any moment. He kisses Viktor’s knuckles, his throat, his eyelids—begging the universe for a flinch, a sigh, a miracle. Presses his ear to Viktor’s chest, listening for a heartbeat. Nothing comes. “You’d hate this,” Jayce mutters, voice raw. “The theatrics. The… the waste of time.”

Viktor at his desk, sleeves rolled up, scars silvered by lamplight—a lattice of old burns, surgical incisions, the jagged kiss of shrapnel. Jayce traces them with his thumb, teasing. “You’re a walking disaster.” Viktor doesn’t look up from his schematics. “And you’re a distraction. But here we are.”

The second night, tries shaking him awake. By the third one, rigor mortis turns Viktor’s limbs to stone. Jayce pries them open anyway, intertwining their fingers together. “You’re being sentimental,” Viktor’s ghost seems to chide. “Sentiment is inefficient.” Jayce laughs, sharp and broken. Presses his lips to Viktor’s, desperate, hoping that somehow, somehow— and vomits into the sink.

Midnight in the lab, Viktor’s mouth hot against Jayce’s collarbone, teeth nipping, breath hitching. “You’re insufferable,” Viktor murmurs, but his hands are already fumbling with Jayce’s belt. “Insufferably brilliant,” Jayce corrects, pinning him to the desk. Papers scatter. Viktor laughs—a rare, unguarded sound—before silencing him with a kiss.

By the fifth, rot arrives in blooms. A violet stain spreads beneath Viktor’s collarbone, the skin splitting like overripe fruit. His lips shrivel, browning at the edges, and Jayce catches himself leaning in—still, still—hoping to taste the iron-sharp wit on his tongue. Instead, his mouth fills with the cloying sweetness of decay. By the sixth, Jayce can’t bear it.

Viktor’s finger tapping a petri dish, alive with microbial swirls. “Decay is just another form of energy,” he says, grinning. “We could harness it. Redirect it.” Jayce leans against him, cheek to his temple. “You’re mad.” “And you’re staring at my mouth.”

By the seventh, he breaks.

Viktor’s hands rest on his chest, fingers curled inward like withered petals. His lips are cracked, his throat shadowed with the bruises of rot. He is still, so horribly still. He has never been still. Viktor, his lovely Viktor, could have seemed so to a stranger. Not to Jayce—never to Jayce. Because Jayce has been reveling in his every microexpression: the pout of his lips when he thought, the subtle lean on his cane in extortion, the hands—those hands that he would catch, mid-air, and pepper with kisses as Viktor was busy explaining his new theories. Animated. Expressive. Alive.

He reaches out, almost expecting warmth, but Viktor’s skin is cold. It should not be cold. Sure, Viktor has— had certain issues with his blood circulation, and Jayce would always curse at him when he’d press his ice-cold feet against his own warm thighs. Viktor would grin, a beautiful, mischievous sight.

He swallows back bile and presses his thumb against Viktor’s palm. He remembers this hand, remembers tracing the scars along his knuckles in the late hours of the night, murmuring half-formed apologies into the space between them.

"You work too much," Jayce whispers, pressing lazy kisses to the ridges of old burns, of past failures. "You’re going to wear yourself down to nothing."

Viktor huffs a laugh, curling his fingers around Jayce’s own, squeezing just once. "And yet, here I am.”

Here he is. But not really.

Jayce clenches his jaw and forces himself back to his feet.

The book is waiting.

He does not remember finding it, only that it was there when he needed it, slick leather beneath trembling fingers, pages thick with time. The words slither into his mind, curling around his desperation like a vice. Necromancy is not magic—it is defiance, an affront to the natural order. The price is steep.

He does not care.

This is heresy, the kind that got men burned in Piltover’s history books. But Viktor’s corpse stares at the ceiling with milky, clouded eyes, and Jayce thinks, What is heresy to a man who’s already damned?

It is a cruel thing, ancient and hungry. The words crawl beneath his skin, curling into the raw spaces between grief and madness. He should not listen. He does not care.

Sacrifice the living. Mend the dead.

The ritual calls for blood.

His own.

Jayce strips to the waist, the lab’s chill biting his skin. The dagger glins—Viktor’s dagger, the one he used to pry open Hextech casings. Its edge still bears flecks of his fingerprints, still nicked from the day Viktor sliced his thumb and swore in two languages.

Blood wells from Viktor’s thumb. Jayce grabs his hand, sucking the cut clean. “You’re ridiculous,” Viktor mutters, ears reddening. “And you’re bleeding on the blueprints.” Jayce grins. “Call it a collaboration.”

The first cut is a confession.

He drags the blade down his sternum, hissing as blood wells. ”Vertical incision… to bridge the veil,” he recites, voice steadier than his hands. The next cuts are symbols: jagged glyphs over his heart, spirals down his ribs. His blood drips onto Viktor’s body, sizzling where it strikes rot, knitting muscle where it meets bone.

The dagger bites deep. Flesh splits. Blood spills in thick, sluggish rivers down his arms, over his ribs, staining the floor beneath him in crimson offering. His hands shake, his breath comes in gasps, but he does not stop. The sigils must be carved deep, must be perfect.

The final cut is a vow.

Jayce slices his palm open, presses it to Viktor’s. Their blood mingles, black and crimson. The room thrums, pressure building until the windows shatter. Glass rains down. Viktor’s chest jerks, and Jayce stumbles forward, pressing his shaking hands to Viktor’s face. The cold is worse now. It leeches into his fingertips, seeps into his bones. His throat is raw. His skin burns.

“Come back to me,” he breathes, voice breaking.

Continue reading on AO3!

[mimimireads]

▸ Gideon is the one true poet of her generation ◂

In order to prove this statement here are some examples of when her eloquence shone so brightly it blinded everyone in a three kilometre radius (obs.: this is not an exhaustive list):

Harrow was sprawled on a sofa spread with tattered brocade, robes abandoned, scrawny black-clad legs crossed at the ankles. In Gideon’s mind she looked like an evil stick. ☠️ Chapter 5

He had a necromancer build. Pale silk fluttered from his slim shoulders. He gave the impression of being the guy fun sought out for death. ☠️ Chapter 10

Gideon stood in the centre of the training room, and for a second that emasculated minutes, she and Harrowhark looked at each other. ☠️ Chapter 11

“You spent this whole time counting doors?” “This calls for rigor, Nav.” “Maybe rigor … mortis,” said Gideon, who assumed that puns were funny automatically. ☠️ Chapter 13 (She's right btw. Another example of her unacknowledged brilliance)

“I—I did not want to hurt you, Griddle! I didn’t want to disturb your—equilibrium.” “Harrow,” said Gideon, “if my heart had a dick you would kick it.” ☠️ Chapter 31

Honourable mention because fuck you, I guess:

“One flesh, one end,” said Gideon, and it was a murmur now, on the very edge of hearing. ☠️ Chapter 37

[pericardium-and-glass]

Tis the season of the spooky! I recently delved into a rabbit hole about the 僵尸 (Jiangshi) and 湘西赶尸人 (Xiangxi necromancer), both Chinese folklores regarding the undead. These are very underrated topics so I’ve found some fun info to share under the cut!

僵尸 (Jiangshi) directly translates to ‘rigid corpse’ (corpse with rigor mortis), but it’s better known as the Chinese vampire in pop culture. 

Jiangshi is an undead that sustains itself by consuming the energy of the living, and moves about by hopping (cause rigor mortis).

湘西赶尸人 translates directly to the corpse herder of Xiangxi. It is considered as a traditional witchcraft practice of the Xiangxi area, and thought of as ‘good magic’. According to traditional lore, families hire these necromancers so that their loved ones (usually people who died in war) could be returned and buried in their homeland, so to encourage the spirit to pass on properly. 

The stereotype of the undead in Qing dynasty officials garb was made popular by horror films and pop culture of the 80s. In traditional folklore, the dead are often clothed in black death shrouds or otherwise have their face covered by large hats. The yellow talisman in movies are depicted to render the undead docile. Here, it is said to be used to keep the spirit within the vessel of the body during transport (I read cinnabar is also used for this purpose).

The necromancer guides the dead with a bell. They would rest during daylight in lodgings specifically made to accommodate this, and only travel at night. This is to avoid frightening the living during day time. 

Of course, there is no verifiable proof for this profession, though it is speculated that some sort of performative corpse transportation existed in history that helped to generate this fascinating legend. The usual portrayal of raising the dead in pop culture is often seen as evil and malicious, so it’s a lovely change of pace to see necromancy depicted in a positive manner. 

[lemon-natalia]

Gideon the Ninth Reaction - Chapter 13

Harrow really needs to accept this isn't something she's going to be able to do alone, and keeping information from the one person who's properly on her side here is not exactly the best idea

Rigor mortis, Gideon you hack

Teacher can give permission to enter the laboratory, but not the X-22 door hmmm. makes me wonder who can give permission for that one ... potentially the emperor, given this palace technically belongs to him? another priest?

see i had been assuming that the testing facility, especially with how old it was, was something to do with creating or developing necromancy, but seems like it was actually set up for necromancers already

i had to go back to the chapter where Gideon finds the secret passage and see if there actually was the animal skull mentioned, and yep there it is

Gideon Nav Talking Time sounds like a terrible children's television show. also good for Gideon for setting boundaries

back to the (now, apparently) haunted lab again, yay! surely nothing could go wrong with this plan

glad Harrow and Gideon are finally gonna at least try to work as a team from now on, they'll have a better chance of figuring stuff out this way

i wish i could say i had a more concrete theory for whats going on with the labs and the doors and all but honestly i have nothing for now, just here for the ride

[puer-mortifer]

I'm going to a funeral! I almost can't believe I got invited, this is just too perfect! I won't have to do all the searching around to find her corpse because they already wanted me there!

Aah, it's almost like the universe wants me to succeed, and I'm not saying no to such an opportunity! I gotta go get my black suit, I prefer purple, but I look stunning in black too.

[phi8]

Calcium

Plasmoid Phantom Rogue

At the gamestore I frequent, they're starting a new season of organised play, and Calcium is my new D&D character! They were the runt of a group of gelatinous cubes, but got Awakened by an adventuring party. Calcium then became the assistant of the wizard of the group, a necromancer. Clacium lacked a real spark for magic, but picked up a few tricks. With that adventuring party Calcium learned they also really liked killing stuff, like all their cousins in the old dungeon. At some point Calcium went solo, persueing a carreer as bounty hunter, but they still do some adventuring every now and then. Their personality is based on Krombopulos Micheal from Rick and Morty. Calcium keeps bones from their targets in their body as trophies (and to draw a little magic from, as a treat)!

[lovebugmusings]

Minotaur!Simon's mate is officially a necromancer! their name is currently Bone, but im thinking maybe Mortis? but im open to suggestions as well! (they're not a very good necromancer just yet hehe)

[anxiously-sidequesting]

Okay all of you are geniuses because a lot of you who see my necromancer posts brought up a super interesting concept that even u hadn't thought about in length, which is the possible discrimination that ALL necromancers in Wizard City probably faces due to past events, not just Malorn

Like ofc this isn't seen in canon but it's super likely that Death students in particular face certain hardships that other Schools may not. And the questions that I asked myself about this topic is super interesting:

Do Death students deal with a certain stigma surrounding their choice of study, or even their character? Are Death students in particular the only group that goes through a different type of treatment that others don't? Do Death students suffer from rumors or beliefs that are harmful to them in any way? Are Death students unwelcome in other groups of students, do they suffer from double takes or ostracization when they do or say things that typically aren't an issue if other students do them?

And another interesting part about this is the source, the fact that a majority of the essential or impactful villains to the plot are all Necromancers that come from Ravenwood. Like of course everyone in Wizard City has to know about Malistaire, but do they know about Morganthe years back, or Duncan when he drops out and is recruited in a cult?

Like I can imagine people back then have heard of Morganthe being expelled; I wonder if there had been any rumors or speculations surrounding her following her expulsion. Nobody was there except for Morganthe, Malistaire, and Ambrose; maybe there were whispers and twists to the story of what actually happened. It's unfortunately very easy to spin an exaggerated tale that maybe Morganthe was purposely violent and unreasonable, and following that, "Maybe it's because she's a Necromancer."

And Duncan, who was never really popular in the first place, after spewing all of that hot air about being Malistaire's best student, suddenly Malistaire becomes a criminal and Duncan is left with what? Was Duncan ever treated differently after that? Were people then possibly AFRAID of him? Perhaps maybe, that he'd soon end up like Malistaire in the future? And imagine how much worse it would get, if it somehow came out that Duncan took up with some bad people and attacked Wizard City's own hero. It wouldn't be about, "Duncan was manipulated during a dark time in his life and did bad things because of that", it would be about, "Duncan, who revered the former evil Death Professor, turned to a life of crime and followed in his mentor's footsteps". By the way, notice how they were both Necromancers?

And then it really puts it into perspective when you realize, why hasn't the Death School been repaired by now? How come no one has looked for Dworgyn or Mortis, despite him having been MIA for a while?

This would have been a cool topic to explore within the game if handled correctly imo, it opens up so much more into the characters and their perspective, the trauma they might be facing. It's sad and definitely unfair and unwarranted but it's realistic and a very blatant thing that just happens. TL;DR, more trauma to Malorn, Duncan, Morganthe, and every single Death student ever from me because I have brainrot

[angrygonk]

What's your rpg?

Due to my inability to finish one thing there are many answers:

-The rpg i run for a group of friends online would be the main answer, it's a late 17th century style story with them in general trying to get to a state now rules by a "blue necromancer". There is a shitton of lore but i think it's pretty fun one. And there is so much lore after the events of my game because there is a second game I'm a player in set 600 years later during the industrial revolution era. If you want i may autism about the lore a bit more.

-The wargame/rpg system i started making, named PMC - private military cat. Humans exterminated themselves extremely slowly, no big bang, no great war, they just stopped reproducing. Mother nature doesn't like an empty chain link so she elected a new dominant species, and it was the worst choice she could've made. Now earth is ruled by dozens of cat kingdoms, republics and tribes, all armed with reverse engineered human technology. I even started 3d modeling minis for this one and after i rework it a tad (it was too complicated for no reason) i will maybe even release it on itch.io

-Mortis Veni, an idea for a card based rpg that never got anywhere (but i transplanted sparkers from it to my main rpg)

-There is another system i started conceptualizing, the annoying retiree rpg, your stats are: bones aches, dementia, irrationality, god-fear, loss of senses and hand shakiness. Along the way of the story your stats would become worse and worse as you level up, the game would basically be set in the modern world but with fantasy elements because that would be funny.

[moodymisty]

The Emperor in your new Mortarion fic really said “Wow you’ve got nothing going for you huh? not even an army or royal title or anything. But what can I say, you are the one dating my cringefail toolson after all. Didn’t expect much more from him. Anyways try not to irreparable break him/yourself byeee” and just up and left. Hilarious

Fulgrim canonically had/has multiple partners, Roboute has something going on with Yvraine and a coparenting situation with Cawl, not to mention whatever the fuck happened with Sanguinius and the Silent King. But Morty decided he’s gonna have a completely normal spouse whose hobbies are like, running a noosphere tumblr blog.

An hour later the Emperor probably barges into Malcador’s room and vents (haha amogus joke) to him about what an absolutely basic partner Mortarion has. “They probably don’t even know basic martial combat!!” He whines, “And I’m supposed to invite them to important events now?? This is disgraceful honestly. XIV lived on a planet filled with mutants and xenos and necromancer wizards and he chose what? Some mortal who ‘loves and cherishes’ him?? Ugh. I would cry but it would mess up my pure gold makeup.” (The entire time he’s saying this he’s lying down on Malcador’s lap. Practically crushing him with the weight of his armour)

Corvus and Vulkan meeting Mortarion's mortal and seeing that not only are they not fucking insane, but are actually respectable and normal:

Where the fuck did you find them what planet what region of space please Brother we need to know wherethefuckdidyou-

[carica-ficus]

"Gideon the Ninth"

03/12/2023 Reading progress: 276/443 (62%) Read through since last update: 133

I've been reading through the book, but just wanted to give myself more time to write out my thoughts. And I wanted to make a longer compilation, rather than many smaller ones. (I believe it's a bit more easier to follow.) I'm thoroughly enjoying the book so far. So much so, that I try to make time for it every single day and feel really excited about coming back to it.

Recent reactions and thoughts:

Hell, yeah! Gideon got back the key from Harrow. No more dicking around for her. Jail time.

A book bound in human leather... Interesting... There are more than a few instances that suggests that Earth and humans do exist in this story, and necromancers are somehow derived from them (including their culture and religion), so I am interested to see whether or not this gets explained later on. If a aci-fi book connects to Earth somehow, to "reality", it usually offers some sort of hint at what happened with it.

"Maybe rigor... mortis," said Gideon, who assumed that puns were funny automatically." Yeah, well, I too find them funny automatically. So she's not wrong.

Ok, that thing with Harrow controlling Gideon?? So cool.

Anybody else completely lost during Magnus's and Abigail's anniversary dinner? Maybe I was just tired, so I couldn't follow what was going on, but still...

Loved the scenes of Harrow and Gideon working together through that fight!!!!! Fuck yeah!!!

I'mma be mean and say good riddance, lol. (Last chapter of act 2)

Dulcinea is so full of it!!! "You wouldn't duel me, would you?" I would when you say it so suspiciously!!!

I find it so incredibly funny that I read "Put it in the hole, Griddle", stopped and laughed at the innuendo, and then Gideon does the same. *insert that meme of two guys waving at each other and saying "same hat", but it says "same brain" instead*

Oho! Another Gideon mentioned in the notes. Could it be the one she got named after? And the G in the "G. & P." must be this Gideon. Interesting... I have a funny feeling about this and I wonder if it'll turn out to be correct... 🧐

I'm glad Harrow and me are on the same page with Dulcinea. This is why I like Harrow. She gets it.

Muir really went for the jugular when she wrote 4 full pages of Gideon violently dying.

Another murder... Hmmm... Things are getting tense...

Corona seems to be avoiding all and every chance to show of her necromancy skills. Suspicious, if you ask me. 🤔

YES YES YES!!! VICTORY TO CAMILLA! (That dislocation was so awful. Loved it!)

AAAAAAAA THE NINTH RAISES TO THE OCCASION!!! Time for pay-back!!!

And Jeannemary too 😭😭

Aw, man. :( No fight.

I love how much credit Palamedes gives to Gideon when in reality she knows jack shit.

Of course Gideon's only thought was Sex Pal. Why would it be anything else?

I am fighting for my life with the need to look at fanart because I am a little worried about seeing spoilers. I did see one (whoops!), but luckily it just approved of one of my suspicions hehe. Still, I am saying clear of the tag for now. My thirst for content will have to wait until I finish the book. That's it for now. I'll return with a new update soon enough. <3

[emorty]

🕯

( @puer-mortifer )

[send 🕯️ to see Effie's inner thoughts about your character!]

Mortifer. A necromancer. They reanimated their Rick and now have control over him. They have my respect for that. I like when Mortys take their power back from Ricks.

(forgot to post this TWO DAYS AGO oh my god)