#vanilla necromancer

[carrotcouple]

Incredibly awkward when your morally off necromancer vampire housemate confesses their feelings to you by saying they would murder billions just after you've contracted the plague.

Anyway, say hello to Enxo (they/them) and Livie (she/her) from an urban fantasy story that's been living in my head rent free without me actually putting anything down for over a year and a half. I think I thought of them after Halloween 2022. That was a while ago.

[nightingale-prompts]

Just your average coffee shop AU-DCxDP prompt

What do you do when you've been blacklisted from every coffee chain in Gotham?

You have to find other sources.

That is Tim's current predicament but he put out a few messages out and an informant got back to him about a new café that opened on the outskirts of the city.

There wasn't much else on it other than the fact that it was located in an old cemetery. No details or anything.

Desperate for the black icker that made up his blood by this point Tim went.

Walking down the cobblestone path Tim began to doubt if the shop was real. The decrepit tombstones seemed to be the only people here but as he passed the mausoleums he saw a single stone crypt that had a sign.

Hours:

Tues-Saturday 12pm-3:00 am

Sunday: All day

Mon: Closed

(Vlad Masters is banned)

Tim opened the stone door and heard the faint sound of violins and saxophones. A staircase led deeper to an aged wooden door.

The rusty door henge screeched as he opened the door like a doorbell. The room was a lounge with plush seats and smooth wood tables. A dance floor was in the center currently occupied by well dressed patrons. The scent of fresh dark roast coffee filled the air. A band played live music, it was a blend of gothic folk and Jazz. The booths were filled with a few patrons cheering for the performers as they drank coffee and played cards.

The counter where he could order his drink was a bar. Despite what you'd assume they weren't selling alcohol at least not yet. The man behind the counter beckoned him over.

The barista dressed in a white dress shirt and a black buttoned vest embroidered with a ribcage design. He had fingerless gloves with matching skeletal hand design. The man's face was a pale bit warm tone with a blueish green hue on his cheekbones. His lips were a dark ashen black with a subtle shine. It was probably just the aesthetic.

"Evening, traveler." His voice practically purred as he greeted the weary young man"The rhythm's alive, and the spirits are waiting—how can I make your afterlife?"

"Coffee. Black." Tim said gruffly despite to get it in his system.

"Oh, you got it bad, don't you? Let me get you something that will actually help." The bartender said turning to brew a cup.

Tim's eyes scanned the chalkboard menu that hung above the bar.

Hot Coffee Drinks:

Graveyard Brew – A rich dark roast with a hint of smoked caramel. (Tucker's pick)

Phantom Flat White – A smooth flat white with ghostly foam art. (Danny's pick)

Latté of the Damned– A spiced pumpkin latte with black cinnamon dust. (Jazz's pick)

Eternal Espresso– A bold, double-shot espresso.

The Velvet Casket – Mocha with dark chocolate and a touch of vanilla.

Sepulcher Spice – Chai-spiced coffee with a hint of nutmeg. (Val's pick)

Necromancer’s Nitro – Nitro cold brew with a dash of maple syrup. (Dan's pick)

Iced Coffee Drinks:

Cold-Brew Crypt– Smooth cold brew with a splash of sweet cream.

Chilled Cadaver– Iced coffee with coconut milk and a shot of hazelnut. (Dani's pick)

The Frosted Requiem – Blended mocha with chocolate drizzle.

Soulful Swirl– Iced latte with caramel and a swirl of blackcurrant syrup.

Moonlit Macchiato– Vanilla macchiato with activated charcoal. (Sam's pick)

Tim definitely sensed a theme here.

"I added a few shots of expresso and some dark chocolate liquor. It should get you right and some minor heart palpitations. I think I'll call it 'The Black Veil'." The barista smiled very cat-like.

"Am I getting my name on the board?" Tim quipped without thinking as he sipped the hot coffee. Actually, it was cooler than he thought it would be. It was the perfect temperature. And the taste was amazing.

"Only if you're a regular and I think your drink might be too much for anyone else." The barista laughed softly.

"So...this place is pretty um...gothic?"

"This place used to be just for the dead but we've recently over up to the living."

"Heh, I get it."

"Get what?"

Tim coughed awkwardly. He didn't want to stop talking to the goth barista yet and the quality coffee was convincing. Maybe it was the environment. It was like walking into a different world.

"So what's this place called? So I know what Im coming back to." Tim tried to sound cool but let's face it, he's been beat.

"This is the Catacomb Club. Where the spirits swing and the night never sleeps. You should come again soon, cutie. I think I got a good surge of inspiration just looking at you." He purred in delight as he leaned over the bar tapped Tim's cheek.

Tim felt his face burn, the touch felt like electricity tickling his skin. A string of babbling seemed to come out of this mouth as he tried to respond.

"Heh heh, don't keep me waiting dear," he laughed "Oh, and by the way. My name is Danny. Catch me in the early shift. My brother works the late shift mixing the alcohol. But if you want you can catch me on the stage or on the dance floor. I might even make you an extra cup or two." Danny said.

Tim found his footsteps on the way up lighter and only when he made it back the cematary gate did he notice.

He never paid.

[thisisarobbery]

hecata counterpoint: 😍

So this is how I am spending my night. I am open to comments and this is like ON AVERAGE For the clan

[emmg]

I don't think Bioware fully comprehends the absolute chaos it’s about to release by handing us, the unapologetic mage-bangers, Emmrich "well done, my dear" Volkarin after the emotional war crime that was the Solas romance.

It’s like they’re handing us an emotionally healthy daddy figure wrapped in a big ol’ “yes, praise me harder” bow and just expecting us to behave.

AO3? Oh, it’s about to be a bloodbath. A flood of unholy praise kink is going to rain down like mana from horny heaven. The poor voice actor? He’s got no idea what’s coming. Fans, barely coherent, will be sobbing in his DMs, pleading for him to record lines like, "darling, sweet thing, apple of my throbbing loins,” because suddenly that’s the only thing keeping them going.

And you just know the fics are gonna go there. We’re talking steamy, full-blown, knee-weakening sex scenes so detailed you’ll practically hear the slapping sounds through your screen. Every silver hair, every wrinkled brow is going to get worshipped like it’s the goddamn Holy Grail. Emmrich? He’s not just a mentor now, no—he’s the silver-fox sex wizard of everyone’s dirtiest, most depraved dreams.

Bioware, you’ve dragged us through the emotional meat grinder with Solas, and now you’re tossing us this emotionally sane and well-adapted snack with decades of good coping mechanisms? Oh, baby, the sex scenes are gonna be biblical. I’m talking hands-on-bookshelves, robes ripped off, candles flickering like we’re summoning a demon but, surprise, it’s just Emmrich praising your efforts in bed like you’re acing your dissertation. It's gonna be 'well done, my dear' while you’re doing ungodly things to that silver fox, and he’s stroking your hair like you just unlocked a new achievement.

Me? Oh, honey, I’ll be on the front lines like a horny general leading the charge into the unholy lands. November 1st? I’m not just showing up, I’m rolling in with a pre-written, fully locked-and-loaded stash of smut so scandalous, my Orthodox ancestors will not only crucify me—they’ll disown me in the afterlife. I’m gonna make them turn in their graves so hard, we’ll solve the energy crisis.

And let’s not get it twisted—I’m going to worship this thin, emotionally available mage like he’s the last goddamn spellcaster left in Thedas. I’m talking tongue tracing every single one of his ribs like I’m mapping out the delicate lines of a cathedral—except it’s not sacred, it’s blasphemous as fuck. Forget holy water; it’s gonna be sweat, and I’ll be so deep into my thirst, my own character, Rook, will be doing things that’d make even the most depraved demon of desire blush. Every sliver of his body, every wrinkle, every bone—especially the bones—is getting the Rook Treatment™.

Bioware? You better brace yourself because I’m about to publish smut so audacious, so flagrantly wanton, even the Deep Roads will seem vanilla.

We’ve suffered. And now poor Emmrich’s going to be buried alive under the weight of all that… pent-up thirst. Welcome to the show, sweet necromancer.

[brittle-doughie]

( I made some hcs about your Ancients au cause I really like the idea)

Pure Vanilla Beast (Perfection)

Appearance-wise, I think he looks much more emo(?) or can be corrupted. It has been a while since I read the previous chapter but maybe his frequent use of Dark Moon Magic may or may not corrupt him, maybe giving him a more rugged and unkept appearance, eyes of an insomniac, and perhaps a crown of thorns on his head and an eye in the middle of his head to show his enlightenment or ascension to beasthood

Probably uses his Vanilla Orchids to seek out victims- lost lambs who need his assitance, you can't go around with that impure and fragile body! Let him heal you and you'll be better for all eternity!

He probably has the patience of a saint, but the last thing you want is to push him to the limit, it's wise not to anger a god-like being after all.

Still cherishes his "Friends" (More like former friends) but he puts them in the lowest amount of importance, especially when he has to aid his citizens to "ascend"

Probably the last person to ascend into beasthood. After seeing all the suffering and despair inflicted upon the weak especially from the "Ancient Beasts" and their predecessors. Ascended to aid those to "ascend" from their mortal shells and live in eternal prosperity! (Part 1 of 5)

The Prophet of Salvation HCs (Beast Pure Vanilla Cookie) | The Ancient Beast Order AU

I would pertain the more emo-ish vibe to him leaning into the necromancer type of deal.

His orchids can heal, but no cookie would want the additional effects the orchids bring. Especially towards near crumbled cookies..

Making any of the Order Beasts angry is a DO NOT. Be grateful that the Prophet can take so much insolence before he’s had enough…

He cherishes all that make up his kingdom. Black Raisin would learn that he might cherish everyone too much to let them go…

Pure Vanilla could only take so much despair and anguish before he too saw the light of his friends’ reasonings. He knew what he had to do and ascended to beasthood to “save” everyone!

[dailyadventureprompts]

Doing a larger post about how to deliver information in a story using Elden ring and it's lack of narrative as an example and I got a bit sidetracked, so enjoy this ramble:

Alright, let me explain myself, but before I do, take a look at the elden ring story trailer...

Damn, that’s an excellent trailer, in just under four minutes we have: 

The inciting incident of Godwyn’s death

The setup that there’s a ruinous war between the demigods that’s reached a stalemate

Multiple mysteries we want to see answered including: What was the rune of death and how was it stolen and why? Who killed Godwyn the golden and set off the Shattering war? What the FUCK is happening to Godwyn? What was the elden ring, who shattered it, and why? Who’s this spooky doll lady And why do I want to kiss her?

The call to action: We live in an age of terrible conflict but you could put a stop to it if you become the elden lord. 

Hell yeah, that’s some excellent setup. None of which is in the game itself. Instead lets look at the intro cinematic..  

The opening narration is weirdly disjointed, with sentences seeming to cut off and jump around randomly. What’s more, We have no relationship to this narrator: in the story trailer the exposition was delivered directly to us the player by a specific character in the form of Ranni. Whereas the opening narration is delivered by an abstract narrator to… no one in particular? The piles of dead tarnished?   The stakes and call to action are likewise far clearer in the story trailer: “Become Elden lord to stop the ruinous war” is way more proactive than “ There was a war.. become elden lord”   Don’t even get me started on the fact that the war took place hundreds to thousands of years before our character even arrived and the setting has just been hanging about in limbo since.  

Whereas the story trailer gave us stakes and mysteries to solve, the opening cinematic leaves you with a general sense of “huh?” as most of the images in the slideshow only make sense once you already know what’s going on. It even goes as far to give you information you don’t need, introducing a bunch of characters that we might not meet for hours with no other context than “ Hey, remember these names for later”.  Fia suffers the worst for this, as the surprise that she’s actually a strangely intimate necromancer is spoiled by the fact that she’s shown canoodling a corpse in the intro. 

How do you fix this?  Have Hoarah Loux give the opening narration. He led the tarnished into exile and now he’s giving a rallying speech summoning them back. The tarnished have suffered during the (thousands of?) years of their banishment in the badlands and now they have a chance to return to the Lands Between, their home, if only they can follow the guidance of grace and complete their queen’s request.  Have the intro highlight how shitty the badlands are, and how glorious a place they left behind. 

This sets up a mystery because as soon as we get to the lands between as we’re faced with this bizarre broken landscape and Marika’s disappearance. We want to desperately find out HOW things got this way, and how/why the queen called us back. Finding Marika isn’t just incidental… her say so and authority  determines whether the Tarnished will be allowed to resettle in the lands between or be hunted as outlaws, giving our character a reason to pursue the plot other than the aimless push out the door we get in the vanilla cutscene. 

Along the way we’d find Ranni, who’d explain about the (preferably ongoing) Shattering war, and what we could do to amend it, whether that be finding the queen or stepping into a place of authority ourselves. 

……I’m going to have to turn this into a d&d campaign aren’t I? 

[fandoms--fluff]

Hope x reader and she's sister figure to reader and r has a panic attack based on monsters and hope helps r?

Necromanced Fear

Un-triggered werewolf female child reader x Hope Mikaelson

Warnings: panic attacks?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hope silently walks through the silent halls of the school, everyone in their beds asleep. Her slipper-clad feet patter against wooden floors as she tries to tire herself by walking around.

That is until she hears some movement and faint rugged breathing from what her werewolf-enhanced hearing picks up from the other end of the hall.

She rushes over to the room where it's coming from, which so happens to be the library. As she turns the corner, her eyes land on you, huddled between two bookcases.

Hope flicks the lamp closest to her on, letting the yellow glow flow through the room's space. She slows her pace to not startle you as she comes closer.

Your already retched breathing picks up as you hear someone approaching you.

"Y/n/n? Hey, it's just me, it's Hope" She speaks softly, crouching in front of you. "H-Hope?" You look up from the ground, tears clouding your eyes. "Yeah, It's me. Can I touch you?" She asks. You slowly nod your head in response.

She raises a hand and places it on your kneecap. As she rubs circles with her thumb, your breathing starts slowing down subsequently taking your mind away from the horrors displayed in your head.

Slowly and shakily, you reach out your small hand and grasp Hope's free one, clutching tightly. The touch helps ground you further from the panic attack that's been wracking through your body.

As your heart slows from the stammering beat, you close your eyes to bring yourself down. "I'm sorry" You whisper.

"What are you sorry for?" Hope's eyebrows scrunch.

"Making you sit here when you could do more important things" You reopen your eyes, gaining control of your breathing and shaking hands again.

"You're more important than what I was doing, you'll always be more important. Don't forget that" She brings up your intertwined hands and kisses your tiny knuckles. "What happened?" She asks sheepishly, not wanting to cross a line.

"Uh..It was the Necromancer. H-he brought back my Momma and she, sh-she..was killed by wolf hunters...again"

"Oh, hey, oh baby, it's okay. I'm sorry he did that" She runs her hand up and down your short calf.

You push up off the ground from the sides of the bookcases and lunge towards the older girl. She wraps her arms around your eleven-year-old frame.

You nuzzle your face into her collarbone, breathing in the cozy scent of her vanilla lotion. "I miss my Momma" You whimper. "I know, sweetie. I'm sorry she's gone. I promise I'll always be here for you" She runs her fingers through your locks of hair.

"Always?" You pull away and look up at her with big puppy eyes. "And forever" She answers, winking at your slacked mouth in confusion.

Your eyebrows then furrow and you tilt your head to the side. "Do you miss your Momma?" You ask.

"Uhm, yeah, yeah I do. But I know she's in a better place now. She's at peace" Hope places her hands on your shoulders. "You're sad, I'm sorry." You notice her saddened face.

"No reason to be sorry. Yes, I'm sad, but it's not your fault. Alright, Cutie?" "Ahuh" You nod your head tiredly.

"C'mon, let's get you to bed" She stands up from the ground with you in her arms. Placing you on her hip, she makes her way out of the library and up to her room.

"How about a sleepover" She whispers. You nod her head again excitedly, "Yeah. sleep with Hopey" You cozy into her neck again.

"That's what I thought" Hope smiles to herself.

[opulentshits]

What's in Rook's inventory?

Our possessions tell a story of who we are and what we value. Here are some items Lenore keeps in her bag while travelling across Thedas! (inspired by citadrells on X)

A Mourn Watcher's grave gold: Kept in a purple satin pouch. A reminder of one's roots. I'd like to think spirits can also sense the presence of grave gold even if they are not worn, allowing Lenore to continue to perform her duties as a Mourn Watcher outside of Nevarra.

A scalpel and some bandages: A Mourn Watcher can never be too prepared! Even though Lenore is a Reaper, all Mourn Watchers undergo field medical training.

A bag of random knick knacks from a charming skeleton: It contains a piece of string, some (very dry) almonds, a griffon feather, leaves (also dry), rocks and exactly, three marbles. The bag was sewn by Manfred. He seems to have picked up the love language of gift giving from his father, not that Lenore is complaining.

Incense sticks from Nevarra: These ones in particular smell like patchouli and amber moss. Lenore brought these with her when she left the Necropolis. Emmrich acquired some for himself and started using them in his laboratory.

A white marble rook chess piece: A gift from Varric for a job well done. A piece to remember Varric and his lessons by. Lenore likes to hold on to it while she thinks. The coolness of the smooth stone keeps her grounded.

A bound journal: Used to document Lenore's adventures and current events. Occasionally, you will find sketches of a particular dapper necromancer. The pages themselves have a slight floral fragrance from the pressed flowers. Some pages are stained by the flowers. Lenore likes to think it adds personality to the journal.

Elfroot potions: Handy for a quick fix! Emmrich makes sure that Lenore is always stocked with potions.

A bit of kohl, dusty red eyeshadow and perfume oil that smells like Vanilla, Vetiver and Cardamom: Warrior or not, Lenore likes to look good. A little bit of make up and perfume goes a long way.

Bag of Money: Lenore started saving up quite a bit ever since she started her adventures with Varric. Ever the gentleman, Emmrich does not let her use her money as he insists on paying for everything whenever they are out together.

A healing salve: Made by Emmrich. A simple mixture of camphor, mint, cajuput, clove and a bit of elfroot extract in shea butter. Handy for that stiff left wrist, or any bruises. Seeing the jar always makes Lenore smile.

A small box of chocolates from an Antivan confectionery: Courtesy of Lucanis when Lenore requested for chocolates on the shopping list. It comes in a bedazzled tin. The chocolates are rationed to Lenore slowly so she doesn't eat them all in one sitting. Lenore is partial to gianduja and strawberry cream filled bonbons.

[heylittleriotact]

WIP Wednesday (except it’s not)

I was tagged by @emmg

I’m having weird writer’s block and am struggling reaaaally hard with concentrating on things for any length of time right now. I blame the state of the world. I dunno. I would like it to go away so I can go back to hyperfixating on sexualizing an old necromancer in horny peace.

I’m still getting over strep and can’t organize myself to tag people, so if you want to share your current WIP please do, and tag me! I want to see!!

Anyway, here’s my WIP of Chapter 4 of my Emmrook vampire AU. Amina wakes up the morning after dying, snuggled up cozily in bed with Emmrich, and feeling relatively fine - she’s just really fucking hungry.

The optimistic trill of a blackbird roused her, eyes snapping open at the sound that pulled her from her slumber: had Emmrich left the window open and some poor bird had found itself trapped in the room?

It sang again, effervescent and bright, greeting the dawn eagerly.

Amina craned her neck: the thick curtains were drawn shut, blocking out the dim sunlight that outlined them - there was no breeze or movement to indicate a window had been left open.

The blackbird’s song continued as though it was perched on the headboard of their bed.

Grunting sleepily, she let her head fall back to the pillow and snuggled back into Emmrich again, returning to the comfort of a dozy, early morning heap of warm limbs and messy hair.

He was still soundly asleep, snoring softly, deep breaths falling from his slightly open mouth. She hugged his arms to her and kissed the back of his hand as he slumbered, turning over thoughts of a terrible nightmare in her mind.

It had to have been a nightmare, right?

Her stomach rumbled in the dark, scraping its talons against the lining of her stomach beseechingly.

Ignoring it, she flipped over and draped her leg over Emmrich’s thigh, nuzzling into his neck and the warmth there. Inhaling deeply, she made a low noise in the back of her throat: he smelled divine. Had he always smelled this good? Of course he used expensive soaps and boasted an exquisite collection of fragrances and colognes: she’d never known Emmrich to smell anything but deliberately nice, but…

She swallowed the saliva that pooled in her mouth, and placed her nose against the side of his neck again, inhaling deeply.

Ohhhh…

Arousal flickered to life between her thighs, warming her further when his scent ripped through her again - olfactory decadence that coaxed a questioning whimper from her: aniseed and wet leather, something clean but complex not unlike petrichor but different - darker; and a salty, coppery tang that brought to mind echoes of vanilla and sex that made her mouth water even more.

He was hard, his cock pressing against her lower belly. Washe dreaming of her? Dreaming of fucking her passionately, uttering filthy words and vulgar poetry into her ears as he so often loved to do?

The blackbird’s morning song became a distant annoyance as the sound of blood rushing filled her ears instead, and she undulated gently against her beloved, revelling in the feeling of his familiar bare skin against hers.

She filled herself with his scent again, feeling somewhat ashamed of how utterly aroused she was by it. Not understanding why.

The urge to wake him was difficult to resist: they could make sweet gentle love, quiet and languid as they twined under the sheets, limbs curling around one another and spreading like graceful tendrils of ivy as it grew over stone, silent but for their shared breath and sleepy gasps of pleasure…

Her lips found smooth, heated skin and the hypnotizing pulse that dwelled there - she felt it pulsating against her tender kiss, and she moaned softly when her tongue flicked against him, her mouth filling with moisture again as she tasted that same enchanting aroma on her tongue.

She sat back on her knees for a moment to shift her hair over her shoulder before returning to his neck, fully intending to kiss her fiancé awake before treating him to a warm, cozy orgasm to start his day.

Her tongue darted past her lips to moisten them absent-mindedly and she flinched, letting out a small cry and lifting her hand reflexively to the sharp pain radiating from her mouth. She felt the familiar sensation of blood beading and dripping down her fingers, over the back of her hand, and heard it pattering against the bedspread.

Drip, drip, drip…

“Ow… fuck…”

She frowned into the darkness, and sucked her lower lip into her mouth, drawing away the blood oozing from the reasonably deep laceration that had appeared there.

“Darling?”

Emmrich had woken, and he stirred tiredly beside her, a large, comforting hand skimming up her thigh and her abdomen until it found her wrist. “Are you all right?”

“I… yes. I just… I think my lip is bleeding…”

She could make out the shift of his features in the dark; brow furrowing as he slid up onto an elbow and the candles on the bedside table blinked to life with a gesture.

“Let me see…” he muttered, voice still thick and raspy with sleep.

She leaned closer as he sat up, bathing her face in the dim orange candlelight so Emmrich could examine the hurt. “See?” She prompted, opening her mouth as his hands drew near so he could get a clear view of the injury.

Emmrich let out a yelp and yanked his hands away, the fear in his eyes piercing Amina’s soul deeper than any weapon ever could as he recoiled from her.

“What?!” She demanded, panic finding her. “What is it?”

He didn’t answer right away, but managed to collect himself enough to sit forward again, his thumb meeting her upper lip as slid it up over her teeth on one side of her mouth, then the other.

He swore softly - a reaction that did absolutely nothing to calm Amina.

“Emmrich!” She snapped.

“Er… hmm…” His eyes darted from side to side rapidly as he seemed to decide the best course of action. Then he grabbed her hand and maneuvered her index finger, guiding it towards her mouth.

The soft fleshy tip of it landed against the smooth, hard surface of her cuspid. Still looking baffled and uneasy, Emmrich slowly and carefully moved the finger down the tooth - far further than it would normally go - and then very delicately prodded the pad of her finger against the point, which felt razor sharp against Amina’s flesh - honed and deadly, and very unlike the shape that particular tooth had been for the entirety of her life until this point.

She let out a clipped scream and brought her other hand up to her mouth, feeling the other tooth - it was similarly distorted under her touch, bizarrely long and just as pointed as the other.

No, no, no��� last night was a dream. A nightmare. And besides, my teeth were fine when I’d gone to sleep…

Bolting from the bed, Amina tore out of their room and down the hallway to the bathroom, her feet slapping through puddles of water that lingered. She hurtled into the still humid room and turned left to face the extravagant vanity built into the wall on that side of the room, and screamed again: a blood curdling shriek that reverberated off the walls.

Emmrich appeared at the threshold, sliding into the bathroom, redirecting his momentum with a hand on the doorframe and embracing her as she stared into the large mirror, mouth agape, confused tears flooding her eyes.

“I - I don’t… I d-don’t—” She raised a shaking hand and waved at herself in the mirror. Her face crumpled in anguish and she looked to Emmrich pleadingly with her eerie eyes and fanged mouth. “Emmrich, wh-why can’t I see myself in the m-mirror?”

He did a double take as he glanced from her to the looking glass, then back again, evidently seeing the same thing as she: only himself, naked and at an utter loss for words.

Amina sank to her knees, suddenly aware of the cold that was rapidly stealing back into her bones. Hugging herself as she cried, rocking back and forth, she tried desperately to make sense of what was happening to her: dead was one thing, but fangs where her teeth used to be, and the unexpected departure of her own reflection was too much. She could only bear so much…

Perhaps it was for the best that she couldn’t see herself - she surely looked like a monster if her teeth were as long and sharp as they felt…

Emmrich had seen fit not to waste his breath trying to assure her it was all going to be all right. Instead, he pulled his dressing gown from a hook on the wall and draped it around her naked form, securing it in place before picking her up again.

He carried her back down the hall as she wept, silent and grim.

Their soft feather bed met her back when he placed her down, and smoothed her hair from her forehead, sitting beside her and looking into her eyes, her hand in his.

“I know that this is very frightening for you, darling,” he whispered. “I can’t imagine what you must be going through right now, but we’re going to suss this out together, yes? Now take a deep breath - you can do it.”

“Why the fuck would I need to breathe, Emmrich? I’m dead!”

The sentiment was delivered with the same air of desperate and indignant mortification that ruled her currently. Her world was one of sheer confusion, and the inability to comprehend.

“There’s no need for such language, darling!” Emmrich blustered, looking affronted. “I’m only trying to help!”

“How can you help?!” She bleated. “You don’t even know what’s happening to me! Fangs, Emmrich - I have fangs!! I’m an aberration! I’m… I’m transforming into that… that thing!” She tried to sit up but Emmrich pushed her back down on the bed. She needed to run. Needed to get away from the Necropolis - away from everyone. She went to sit up again, only to be forcibly returned to the surface of the bed. “Emmrich, please!” Tears crashed down her face: why didn’t he understand?!

“Amina. Stop.”

He gripped her tightly by the upper arms, his elbows braced on either side of her to keep her from scarpering. His nose was inches from hers, and his eyes were intense and grave. The dark shadow of the dusting of morning stubble over his jaw added to his intensity and emphasized the serious set of his mouth as his eyes burned into hers.

“You need to calm yourself,” he instructed. “This is undeniably a mess, and I’m terrified as well, but we won’t get anywhere by panicking and falling apart, will we? You are not alone in this, dear. Now do as I say, and take a deep breath.”

Eyes shut tight, she obeyed - forcing a clattering breath into her hollow lungs, fighting against every instinct she had to flee. Her stomach protested its emptiness again, painfully contorting on itself.

“I’m so hungry, Emmrich,” she groused, sounding annoying and whiny to her own ears, but it couldn’t be ignored any longer: she was beginning to feel faint.

“Stay here - I will bring you something.”

The tone it was delivered in made it clear there would be no negotiating.

He vanished from her side and she sagged into the mattress.

[valoisfulcanellideux]

"Mushrooms! Think of me like a mushroom, if that helps. I'm not so much undead as I am… kind of [long pause] made of mushroom. I'm just a mushroom guy."

So quoth Pixlriffs in his first stream from Fantasy Minecraft Fabric modded SMP. And while I have some very specific ideas about writing his mushroom necromancer/revenant character I found it amusing that not only has he revived his leitmotif of death — "I am going to be... a Revenant. Yes, Pixlriffs chooses something to do with death. Again." — but he's also gone back to his fungal roots. His mycelial network, if you like.

What do I mean by that? Well, in his first ever SMP — Decidedly Vanilla — he founded the Democratic Republic of Mushroom (full playlist here).

And what do mushrooms feed on but death and decay?

Ooh, the ideas are percolating on this one... 😉

[esmorningstar]

Face modding/sculpting adventures. Modding vanilla heads to meet my need to have customized faces. This is my necromancer/phantom rogue, Yelena. I don't know if I am done, yet, but I like the results so far!

[safrona-shadowsun]

What would you do if Blizzard ridiculously mandated that every character had to change their class from their current one? What would Safrona be and how would that uplift or muddy your idea of her?

{ Ohh, now that would be a nasty implementation. It would be an interesting one if it was a little trick for a week, perhaps. My favorite class is the Warlock, and has been since Vanilla. I might play around with other classes, but I tend to always go back to the Warlock.

Moreover, Safrona's identity is very tightly tied to the class fantasy of the Warlock. Stories and canon events concerning her own origin are based around the core of Warlocks, and even the association of her demons. It would be *very* hard for me to imagine having her as any other class, and still desire to roleplay her with the depth in mind that I already do. She would definitely feel hindered by having the warlock class stripped from her.

Now, that being said, I do have a Demon Hunter character that does resemble Safrona a bit, and in an IC capacity she has used this 'disguise' to allow herself to get through to Horde territory safely. The character is even named "Courier", which someone did the courtesy of saving for me to use, Horde-side. As far as the class fantasy of the Illidari goes, I may have origin thoughts that sort of swerve from the Lore standard stories of your run-of-the-mill demon hunter that could apply to Saf.

It is *slightly* possible for me to explain off Safrona's reworking as a demon hunter. Perhaps she would have her demons as miniaturized battle pets instead. Maybe she has learned how to fight with Ilidari blades after a lot of particular soul consumption. Maybe the transformation is influenced by an ugly curse put on her. Maybe a particularly vindictive Necromancer makes her bones twist out of her skin every now and again just to cause her the pain of the 'inconvenience' of having a body. Maybe one of her demons have officially possessed her, and Safrona struggles to survive its complete consumption of her soul. I have definitely thought of unconventional reasoning. All tortuous reasoning, apparently.

But the big issue would definitely be that Saf being a demon hunter would just lacking for me to play. Typically Demon Hunters just make me miss the Warlock class, hah. My motivation to write this 'reinvisioning' of her is just not something I could self-perpetuate. I'd rather be writing this class as a different character entirely, and seek some juicy rp connection. But have an old Legion screenshot, with Safrona inspiration. They *are* fun to play for me if my mind isn't trying to complicate the character with rp validity. }

{ Thanks for the thoughtful question, @wonderbout! }

[justrookthings]

600+ vanilla hours of romancing this Vincent Price looking skullf-liker skull-liker... I want to rip my golddarn eyes out, get the Veilguard on PC and just turn this game into a NecROMANCER Simulation instead.

I have the game memorized right now and it's aggravating having to wait tens of hours each playthrough to run back through the beginning, get everything set up before the first big choice, THEN get to the Professor, THEN maybe look how I kinda want to look, run through several more hours of extra stuff to stay caught up, THEN romance Emmrich, THEN the game is over and if I want to see it all again I gotta look it up on YouTube, see choices I want to try instead, then start the whole process over.

BioWare needs to release game versions that are just the romance bits (/joking) ... Actually... While you're at it, BioWare, give me Garrus romance simulator, too.

[brittle-doughie]

Maybe for your beast at you Pure Vanilla Cookie has turned into basically a necromancer, unable to come to terms with death.

It would really suck to be a healer, only to know that the people you healed are inevitably going to die of old age while you stay immortal.

(Also, don't think I didn't see white Lily. Not trying to take credit, but if you did get inspired by my thing I think that's pretty cool and thank you)

I could add that onto what’s been written so far and ye, I was inspired by your post about White Lily and order, I wanted to credit you for the idea, but didn’t know if you wanted to be tagged for it or not.

[absentia-misere]

MANIC BG3 TEXT POST

If I don't write this out I WILL start a new game; I have too many ideas and I really want to actually finish the game with my main OC (Absentia)

Baldur's Gate 3: Wild Hunt- I already started once but I fiddled with the origins too much and broke it. Playing as Geralt in an AU ft Ciri👑, Dandelion🎻, Triss🖕🏻, Yen😍, Lambert🗡️, Eskel🐐, and Eredin😈. And Vesemir🥲. And Philippa🦉. And Cerys⚔️. And Zoltan🍺. And Salma💐. And Iorveth🏹. And Saskia🐉 And

Orina- Pure Evil Durge- I wanna restart and finish her playthrough, I wasn't evil enough the first try and I also broke that save too (I'm a mess) but i really love the concept of Orin's Twin fighting her for evil daddy's approval (and looking at Orin's character model for 100+ hours is uh... Totally not related to why I wanna do this). Plus I miss Ridgebeake terribly but he doesn't really fit into any other runs. My sweet dumb big murderous birbo 😭

The "I have too many race mods, someone take my internet away" run: I hardly ever actually use the dozen+ modded races that I have (all roads lead back to drow, even if I pick another race badaboombadabing it's grey with pointy ears and red eyes almost every time) so I really wanna do a run where the team is nothing but fantastical creatures- minotaurs, werewolves, satyrs, kobolds, nymphs, etc. I always get hung up on this bc I've got like fifty armor mods that are basically made moot by using those races but damnit they're in my load order Ishouldreallyusethemgodswhyiamilikethis

"characters I am DEFINITELY not supposed to be able to play" run: pretty self-explanatory but I want to see exactly how broken and janky I can make the game by duplicating and exclusively using characters that Larian studios never intended, expected, or even dreamt of. I'm talking Karniss, the Illithid dying on the ground in act 1, Gortash's favorite Steel Watcher, BOOOAL, the Owlbear cub, Tuffet the bear, Withers' Big Naturals, I want to take on the Absolute as the fuckin githyanki egg okay?

Snow White and the 7 Dwarves- so this one's kinda silly but I think it would be fun to play with. Tav is snow white, pure pacifist character, honest to a fault and the seven dwarves are a highly skilled band of mercenaries (talents and combat skills based on their names) who have vowed to protect this sweet, clueless, lost girl they found knocked out on the beach after a horrific accident.

Supernat20ural- I have needs..okay?

Baldur's Boy 3- I wanna do a Kratos run so badly. But I'd wanna have only Kratos and Atreus in the party and that's going to be god of war level hard bc I've got soooooo many extra enemies that I refuse to get rid of bc the vanilla game is void AF of combat. And I'm not actually that good at this game 😂 but it would prepare me for something else I really really really wanna do:

SOLO!!: Id probably end up cheating and being a necromancer but I mostly want no party members, just my walking god of a Tav. AND I wanna do this one with the real-time combat mod. Maybe Kratos too

Norse Pantheon- all I know for sure is Astarion will be Loki and I'll figure it out from there lmao. Halsins personality feels very Thor (and his beef bod backs that up). Debating making Tav Freyja, she would be so fun to play and also I love her more than life. And I've got mirri's playable cats so I could also play as Bygul and Trjegul, who would 100% be tressyms. Wyll's plot reminds me so heavily of Tyr's trust and sacrifice that I think he'd be a good fit. Gale is literally Odin- he's obsessed with an ancient witch, he's causing his own demise with his insatiable lust for knowledge are you kidding me? Odin all day. Dame Aylin is just copy/pasted Brunhilde anyway so that's a given. Shart is giving Sif. Lae'zel would be Freyja, actually, sorry Tav. Can you tell this concept is the one that led to making this post? I joked about it once a week ago and it's eating my brain from the inside out. Ghaik have infected me with my beloved divine idiots and I cannot escape. I'm DREAMING about this idea you guys, in real life being disrupted by the obsession with how fucking fun this would beeeeeeeeeee

And the best part of this is I'm gonna download that photo-mode mod in a couple days and I already know that I will never actually get anything done in this game ever again ✨✨✨✨🤭

[fandoms--fluff]

Legacies Masterlist

Ryan Clarke

Attempted Sneak Out

Hope mikaelson

Not Alone

Morning Surprise

Perfect

Dating Hope Mikaelson Headcannons

Just A Nightmare

Dirty Secret

Starry Night

Sleepy Head

The Little Key

Quieting The Argument

The Things I'd Do For You

What's Not To Love

Favoritism

Hiding No More

Devil's Week

A Second Miracle

Sub/Cute Hope Mikaelson Headcannons

Dreams to Become

Top Hope Mikaelson Headcannons

Big Sister's Here

Road Trip

The Secret's Out

Nsfw Top Hope Mikaelson Headcannons

The Best Big Sister

Your Momma

Mix up

Cake Is Good For You

Jokes On You, Death

Damned Spell

Stardust

You'll See When We Get There

Comfy

Bedtime? Nah

New Hairdo

Little Princess

Overworked

Good Girl

Kiss It Better

Crushing Hard

Needy

Dating No Humanity Hope Mikaelson Headcannons

Vampire to Baby

Glorious thought

Overnight

Captive

Cooking Disaster

Necromanced Fear

Together

Remember To Knock

The Right Plan

The Best

Training

Surprise Visit

Calm Day

Splash

The Perfect Dress

Late Night Wake Up Call

Angel

Fairy Garden

Playing

Mine

Caught

Little Hope Mikaelson Headcannons

Mission

Cursed or Something

Lizzie Saltzman

Leaving The Castle

Josie Saltzman

Focus Is The Key

Badass

Dead Beat Essays

Big Sister Material

Film Extravaganza

Lizzie and Hope

Baking Lesson

Panda Promise

Shopping or Babysitting?

Hizzie

Just Like Vanilla

Incorrect qoutes

Those are my tits

Bunk Beds

Another word for mom

Seating Places

Not a Date

Personal Space

Walking paces

Body count

Thank God

Shoot Her

Stupidity

Mother's Day

You're Okay

Moodboards

Besties with Hope

Besties with Hope #2

Dirty Secret

Film Extravaganza

Mini rants

Alaric is the worst