#librarian powers activate! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jymwahuwu · 8 months ago

Note

Hi! Really love your stories they always scratch my brain (*≧∀≦*)❤️, so I got an idea and wanted to ask what you think about it

I got this question with Sunday on the minigame/event (idk what to call it lol)

"Just as you're about to pull a dusty hard-leatherback book, you hear a gentle whisper within earshot, "Averoy Rosewood's works are notorious for their obscurity," the Oak Family Head Sunday faintly smiles at you. "Perhaps you need more elaboration."

(I couldn't put the image since anon asks don't allow me to put images😮‍💨, but it's from a Board Encounter in Cosmodyssey)

and when I read it my brain immediately went WHAT IF SUNDAY FILLS THE READER WITH A VIBRATOR ON THE LIBRARY, and him just watching in amusement as he talks about books and asking her questions about them while he plays with the levels of vibrations with a control on his hands and she just struggles to make sentences, so he goes and asks "What's wrong? Are you not feeling well?" To tease her and remind that she's in a public space and can't make much noise unless she wants everyone to know about what they're doing.

Hmm... I wrote this about Sunday, but I feel like maybe it could be about Jing Yuan or Aventurine 🤔, anyways sorry if it sounds weird my brain sometimes goes into unga bonga mode when I think about these men.

Sincerely,

An unhinged anon.

Thank you for telling me. I experienced this event and read the content of Sunday helping us in the library!! Wrote a little bit, I hope you like it 💗🫶

cw: yandere, non-con, abuse of power, abuse of credit, vibrator, harassment

How about you being the librarian at The Family Library? A nerdy librarian. The Family claims that this is a library open to everyone to read and borrow, covering a variety of books and hologram collections.

Sunday, the leader of the Oak Family noticed you. He can accurately talk to you about your interests, hobbies and ideals, and encourage you…but one thing is that you are not religious enough in your belief in harmony. You are too withdrawn…and cannot integrate into The Family. Sing hymns, participate in activities, and protect The Family, others can do it, but what can you do? He cannot allow you to continue in this position under these circumstances. You panicked, grabbing his sleeves and pleading with him through tears. "W-what, I really believe Lord Xipe…I need this job badly! Please Mr. Sunday…"

He offered a plan. He used his gloves to push a delicate small box in front of you. You must put two vibrators in your underwear while on duty to test your professional abilities. If you can tolerate sinful sexual pleasure, you qualify for this position.

"But… Mr. Sunday, can I-can I take a break?"

"Of course. I'm not here to torture you. This is for your and everyone's happiness and harmony, I hope you understand." His words ignited the hope in your heart. "You have 2 hours a day to take them down. Allocate your own time. After get off work, you head to my office and I will check on your progress. You must do this every working day."

"Check?" Your heart sank into the starry sky and was crushed. "Okay. Mr. Sunday..."

These two vibrators… are pearl white and have an angel wings pattern on them. It's silent, but it delivers a surge of pleasure to your private parts, sometimes fast and sometimes slow down. It's not much better when it's slow - it's a long, quiet torture that gives you no relief. You kept your legs still and sorted your books and documents, your underwear getting wet. Every half minute, you check like a hawk to see if you have wet your clothes, fearing that it has become a joke in the eyes of others…

He occasionally wanders into the library to check on your work and ask you to recommend books in a certain category or answer questions about the collection.

"What's wrong? Are you feeling uncomfortable?" Sunday approached you with caring eyes and ruthlessly pushed the controller frequency to the highest level. You lowered your head, holding back tears, your legs trembling. "I-I'm fine. Mr. Sunday. Thank you for your concern."

This kind-hearted gentleman and leader offers to take you to another secluded corner of the library to rest. On the road, Sunday dials down the vibration frequency and doesn't crank it up until you get to the corner. The intense ecstasy immediately hits you to the extreme and stimulates your nerves. You endured your moans, trembling in Sunday's arms as you reached orgasm. His hands caressed your hair like a lovable pet. He commented that your ability to endure needs to be improved.

After you get off work, Sunday asks you to take off all your clothes in the office and fold them on the table. He uses white gloves to inspect and rub your private parts, circling them with his thumb. In the watery light, those fingers slowly inserted between your legs and twitched. He clicked his tongue in disappointment when he realized that his fingers were already wet enough to slide into the inner walls before being inserted. "Not religious enough, are you? What are you thinking about? You're letting pleasure take over your body."

"...I'm sorry!! Mr. Sunday, Please give me a chance…" you begged with a sob, then cummed hard at his disappointed sigh.

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #sunday x reader #yandere honkai star rail #honkai star rail x you #yandere hsr #yandere hsr x reader #honkai x reader

397 notes · View notes

5five5five5five5five5five · 2 months ago

Note

Pls headcanons of a flirty dolores [human] and five .

Trying to forget "that season".

Denial stage activated.

Pls and thank you.

Good day/night.

OOOHH YES! but first i want to write a human Dolores of my own then we can get to the flirty stuff. * she is in her mid 30's and works as a librarian who LOVES books and is very smart and pretty and perfect.

she is MADDENINGLY in love with the Noir detective novel series " Five "max" Hargreeves and the Umbrella of Time. a long running series about a Old man who turns into a young man some times and solves crime with his dog Mr. pennycrumb. * she hated that when they turned the books into movies, they hired a actor that looked NOTHING like how she sees him in her head. Five looks like how she sees him in her head. she cant pinpoint why it bugs her so much. its just wrong. thats not him??? * one day well sorting books, she no clips into the backroom subways and gets stuck. idk how. s4 logic aka make shit up. but she thinks "what would Five do?" and copy his mapping and travel style. * and then they meet......Jesus my kinnie ass heart melts even thinking about it lol. * "five?!" "Delores?!.....are you..real this time....." "wait how do you know my name??....and yes i am very much real? are YOU?" "how do you know MY name?? and yes??" then they nervously chuckle and tell each other how they know each other. * they get a bit sad that the others Delores and five were not real and five admits he got the better end of the stick by being a cool book character....she didn't deserve to be just a......mannequin. but Delores reassures him that his life needed her and that's what gave it so much value. "and at least you got to physically hold me~ i just had....really embaressing art of you...." *Delores drawing him then she thinks he's not looking. she wishes he was a bit older but her self shipping ass is used to his age "powers" but knows this Five cant turn back. at least he's not 13 Five lol. *he's tried to explain his age situation a few times.... shes so understanding about it and five, for the first time, feels seen....and got does his face get red. she knows he's a old man. she loves him BECAUSE he's actually an old man. ANYWAY TO THE FLIRTY STUFF. MY BRAIN IS JUST ON FIRE WITH HUMAN DELORES. * they CAN NOT stop looking at each other. five feels so stupid being THIS flustered. its not his wife. he knows this. but god....shes so stunning. younger then his Delores but he doesn't mind. * she's taller then him no matter what. she was taller then him when he was old, young doesn't matter. shes a tall women and he loves that about her. *her always behind his shoulder correcting his math. and him huffing and admitting shes right. *she likes to head to him. he likes listening. hearing her voice with none of his own voice fused in is so refreshing. he would read his head in her lap and just relax for once in his life. *them slow dancing and mumbling soft words of comfort to each other. *she loves booping his nose. at first, it bits him because the handler used to but ends up finding it nice. its a trait she would have. *he loves watching her move. dance. walk. talk. shes in front of him. again, their eyes are glued to each other and its hard hard not to. just knowing their loves are real keeps them going. *that art meme of all the lovestruck chibis surrounding a very flustered person. that's Delores if she walked into the deli. imagine all the fives looking over and melting in surprise. crumbling in their seats because they are filled with "i miss my wife,tails" energy. the five we are following for this post has to fight them back and give protective glares well she admits the attention is nice and oh god! so many fives! *when five finds a way to return, he doesn't fucking hide it and want to introduce her to his family so bad. she is worried about ending up in a different timeline. he understands the risk but at this point, he just wants the love of his life. and Shes so starved for adventure that she agrees wholeheartedly.

sorry if this wasn't all flirty themed stuff, i just really wanted to write Delores.

#the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #tua #delores hargreeves

29 notes · View notes

gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan · 2 months ago

Text

Invite Me In

Author's note: More of Nanael in Husbandry.

Summary: So- how did Nanael go from being a tragic boy to Cedric's Body dumping buddy?

Warnings: LMK if I need to add anything.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @ms--lobotomy , @thevoidscreams, @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Tagged: @felinisnoctis, @undeaddream

Nanael was glad that he had some rations, both hydration, food and... other fluid rations on him. It helped his healing factor charge up as he carefully poked at his body parts, took off his helmet and grabbed a stick from the ground to bite into as he set his own bones.

Not wanting to bite through his own tongue or make too much noise as he patched himself up as best he could and just wait for his body to stitch itself back together. After the pain tapered off a bit he thought of calling for help.

No- there's no one to help him. His Company is dead- he's the last survivor of his company. Tears fall down his cheeks at he recalls that and he shakes his head, carefully as he closes his eyes and wrestles with his emotions in order to stop crying.

He needs to conserve resources- the time for tears and grief will happen after he's found some semblance of safety. He opens his eyes and carefully looks around- this place- this planet. This is not the planet that he was on before, when he had died- where his brothers had died.

He remembers the voice- the hands the words of his Primarch Father, 'Live, my son.' And part of him feels great joy and pride, while another part of him wonders 'why me?' He's no one special, he's not an Officer of many years, he's not a Librarian of great power.

He's just a freak with wings. Most brothers who gain the wings also get Psykery powers to activate. Unfortunately for Nanael, he just has the wings- but no Psykery to use as well. At least his wings aren't broken and he slowly gets up, and put his helmet back on.

He doesn't know where he is- but as he takes in a deep breath- he has noticed that there is pollution in the air- which means a civilization of some kind must exist on this planet. Whether the civilization is Human or Xeno, he won't know until he finds them.

He checks his vox- and tries to call out- no dice, it's busted. Which, is par for the course, really. He heaves a sigh and tries to find a source of water- a flowing source, like a river is ideal. Most peoples have their places of civilization near a source of water.

He finds a stream and follows it downwards. At just watches this lovely biodiverse planet as he walks. For hours in silence, slowly- he starts to hear noise, of people nearby.

He slows down and lifts his head- he recognizes the language that's spoken. It's High Gothic- and as he carefully approaches, his hearts fall to his stomach. The colors and iconography of the brothers- well cousins, who speak are that of the Black Tempars.

Black Templars tend to be a rather... intense chapter- and are very good at killing. They don't tolerate those they find as Other. And with his golden armor and wings upon his back.

He will be lucky if they don't try and kill him. Maybe... maybe he can ask for direction from them and leave? He makes sure to make noise as he approaches their camp.

"Halt!" one of the Black Templars on guard duty calls out sharply, "Identify yourself."

"Nanael of the Lamenters," Nanael reports dutifully.

"What are you doing here?" The Black Templar says as he approaches the Lamenter suspiciously as he glares at the larger space marine.

"Looking for help," Nanael replies honestly.

The Black Templar spots the black and white Checkerboard, the bleeding heart- and hears his name and chapter and, Nanael's hearts sink as the Black Templar pulls out his weapon.

"Foul Mutant- begone from here." The Black Templar barks out- he had spotted Nanael's wings. "If you come closer I shall strike you down!"

"What's going on brother?" One of the other Black Templars calls out- noticing that his fellow Templar has drawn a weapon.

"A Mutant dares to approach our campsite." The first Black Templar says with an angry growl.

"I am not a mutant!" Nanael protests, "I'm a fellow Astartes."

"Oh- it's one of that, Chapter," The second Black Templar says in disgust and recoiling a little, "You- bad luck magnet. Begone! Before your presence curses us."

"But I," Nanael tries to say.

"Leave or else!" A Third Black Templar barks out- this one is in Terminator plates. "We don't want your kind to taint us with your cursed luck. Try and stay and death is what you'll get."

"... I'm leaving." Nanael says, with no other choice, still badly hurt and aching.

Another voice calls out, "What is going on here, brothers?" While Nanael limps away.

"A foul Mutant freak, that dares to call itself an Astartes has approached our camp, Chaplain Petras." The second Black Templar says, as he spits towards Nanael.

"That sounds concerning," The Chaplain says sounding concerned as the Chaplain of the Black Templar approaches the group. "Oh- a Lamenter."

The Chaplain looks him over, the skull mask of his Specialty glaring at Nanael as he shifts away from the other's judgmental gaze. The Chaplain gently pats the shoulders of each of his Crusade.

"Why don't you three go and get something to eat, hm? I shall speak to this one." The Chaplain says.

They protest, the Black Templars not wanting their Chaplain to be near the foul abomination. "I can handle myself brothers, besides- I can guide That One to a place of rest, where it- he, shall not bother us."

"Yes Chaplain Petras," The line brothers say with polite nods as they head off back deeper into the camp.

Nanael has a really bad feeling about this as the Chaplain turn towards him. He braces himself, wondering what is going to happen next.

#warhammer 40k #warhammer #space marine husbandry sentience #adeptus astartes #space marine husbandry #oc: Nanael #Lamenters #Black Templars #Mortifactors #Night Lord #oc: Petras

26 notes · View notes

hayanwulf · 4 months ago

Text

Secrets and Villains - 1

Tony waited vigilantly within the walls of the ancient desert temple, all the lights of his suit powered down so that he may not be spotted in the dark.

It was midnight. The sky shone with a thousand bright stars, their light unimpeded by the clear atmosphere of the Sahara.

Back in New York, it was only late evening.

Stephen would be expecting him back home soon, thinking that he was currently busy with some SI meeting, completely unsuspecting of his activities as Iron Man.

Completely unaware of his identity as the world’s most infamous villain.

Or, well, one of the most.

It was arguable.

Because ‘The Order’, a group of recently emerged powerful magic users, came pretty damn close to contending Iron Man for being the greatest threat to Earth.

But there could only be one top dog in this world, and Tony would make sure that it was him. He had to.

He had been hunting The Order for several months at this point, to no success. They defied laws of physics like a walk in the park. They had strength in numbers. They were frustratingly good at hiding their identities, using spells to cloak faces and distort voices.

And, their leader.. ugh!

The Sorcerer Supreme — yes, that was what he called himself — infuriated Tony. He was the most powerful of them, was intelligent, and had a loyal piece of alive cloth that just loved making Tony’s life harder in general. He had tried to fight the asshole so many times, had tried to trick him, lure him into traps. Every single time, the Sorcerer Supreme had defeated or outmaneuvered him, and he’d been forced to retreat to save his own ass.

But every failure had taught Tony something new about the Sorcerer Supreme. With each failed attempt, he’d learned, he gotten better.

And now.. now he was confident that he could take down the Sorcerer Supreme. Once and for all.

Because this time Tony wasn’t the one coming to the Sorcerer Supreme. The Sorcerer Supreme was going to be come to Tony, tracking down the magical activity in this temple, expecting nothing but some mild disturbance.

Tony had the element of surprise, now.

He’d had to pull a favor to make this happen, but he sure as hell was confident that this would be worth it.

He waited there patiently, just staring up at the starlit sky.

A few minutes in, Stephen messaged him asking when he’d be coming back home. He texted back that the meeting would continue for longer than expected, and apologized for bailing on their dinner out.

He watched as a reply from Stephen immediately popped up. It’s fine. I’ve got other things to keep me occupied.

He felt a stab of guilt.

He hated this, lying to Stephen. Stephen was the one person with whom he could just be himself, no masks and no pretenses. And yet, there was this mask and and an entire part of his life he was hiding.

But how could he ever tell Stephen the truth? Stephen would... he’d leave.

And then Tony would truly have no one left.

“Portal signatures detected,” JARVIS’ voice instantly put Tony on alert, and he shifted himself into a battle mindset.

Thoughts about Stephen could wait.

He quickly slid himself further inside the temple, and peeked out through a small window as a perfect, fiery portal spun to life on the sand dunes. Out of it stepped Sorcerer Supreme and The Librarian (seriously, could they not have picked better names?) and the portal swirled close behind them.

They walked closer to the temple in unison, some spell active around the Sorcerer Supreme’s wrist. Tony waited for them to get closer, watching their glowing eyes flicker.

The spell they used to cloak their face formed a thick, evil looking fog all around their head, the only discernible feature being a pair of blank glowing eyes.

All of the sorcerers in The Order had orange-golden sort of glowing eyes, just like their magic.

The Sorcerer Supreme had blue.

To this day, Tony couldn't tell if there was a technical reason for that or if he just did it to assert himself as the leader or something.

As soon as the pair of sorcerers stepped inside, Tony sprung into action, firing nanite contraptions on both of them that immediately latched around their hands binding them down tightly. They were obviously not expecting him, because they let out a noise of surprise which actually came out undistorted for a brief moment.

Without the mobility of their hands, the sorcerers were more or less sitting ducks.

“Like my new mouse trap?” Tony said, letting his armor light up with power, the blue of his arc reactor lighting up the area with a faint glow.

“Can’t say I’m surprised that you had to resort to tricks again to get to us,” the Sorcerer Supreme drawled.

“Ah, you’re jealous that I’m just smarter than you.”

Sorcerer Supreme scoffed. “If you truly believe that, you’re delusional.”

“I don’t believe it,” Tony said, sending a command to squeeze the handcuff nanites real good for emphasis. A hiss escaped the Sorcerer Supreme’s lips, and Tony smirked victoriously. “I know it.”

The red cape flew off his shoulders and shot straight towards Tony. Nope; he’d already anticipated that. He reacted quickly and dodged out of its way, sending a nanites contraption that caught it in its trap. There; that would keep it occupied for a good few minutes. He turned back to the sorcerers—

Only to realize that a couple of portals were forming around them. Damn it. Sorcerer Supreme had been stalling him.

It was fine. He could still salvage this.

He engaged the two new sorcerers in battle, trying to keep them away from Sorcerer Supreme and The Librarian.

But he had never stood a chance against so many of them engaging him together, and that was, unfortunately for him, not going to change tonight.

Sorcerer Supreme broke free of the cuffs Tony had put on his hands, and oh, he was furious. He made sure to display as much with how the blue of his eyes flared bright and angry.

It was a deadly, messy exchange of blows from there. Tony got very overwhelmed very quickly and he had to, once again, resort to running away before any more of his suit’s integrity had been damaged. He shot up into the night sky, leaving the sorcerers behind.

Another day, another failure...

At least, he thought as he flew above the Atlantic Ocean, he could still go back home, back to Stephen.

He landed in his bunker Upstate, made sure he wasn't followed, scanned himself to make sure they hadn't left any kind of magical tracker or.. other invasive magic on him, and tended to his wounds.

Or at least, as much as he could.

He needed to appear passable, he had a doctor for a partner. He had years of experience with hiding pain, and yet Stephen could easily tell when he was hurt. The Doc’s ability to perform an entire MRI or something on Tony with just his eyes never failed to baffle Tony. It was like his eyes were magic or something. For all he knew, they were.

The gash on his hip was the worst, thankfully it wouldn’t be visible. He put on some concealer on the bruises on his face and hands. He gave himself a once-over on the mirror, fixing his shirt a little.

That would have to do. With some luck, Stephen wouldn't suspect anything and Tony wouldn't have to use yet another clumsy excuse.

He flew back to New York, landed on another secure bunker, and drove back to the Tower from there.

Entering the penthouse floor, he found Stephen contently sitting on the couch, a book in his lap. He smiled as he approached the couch from behind, and wrapped his hands around Stephen’s shoulders, who glanced up at him with warmth in his eyes.

“How was the meeting?” Stephen asked, leaning up to kiss him on the lips.

Tony returned the kiss. “Just boring. Let’s not talk about boring stuff.” He glanced down at the book in Stephen’s lap. “That’s your way to ‘keep yourself occupied?’ Reading?” He raised a judgemental eyebrow.

Stephen rolled his eyes. “Reading is a perfectly fine medium of entertainment. But no, I got called at Metro General to provide consultation for a special case.” There was a flicker of an expression in his face, but it was gone before Tony could have read it. He didn't need to read it, though. He could guess.

Stephen sometimes talked about his days as the best surgeon in the field. There was always a melancholy, a longing in his eyes whenever he talked about it. He never said it out loud, but Tony knew that he missed it dearly, being able to have full function of his hands, being able to operate on people and save lives.

Tony hadn't met Stephen until nearly a year after his accident. Though, sometimes he wondered what kind of a person Stephen had been back then, what kind of life he’d had. If he’d truly been as much of an asshole as he claimed to be. If he’d been even more prideful and elegant. If he’d.. if he’d been happy, with his life. If he hadn’t had to pretend to be happy.

It seemed that, these days, both of them were just pretending. To what end, neither of them knew.

“Tell me about the case?” Tony suggested, absently running his fingers through Stephen’s scalp, hands still snugly wrapped around the shoulders.

Stephen’s eyes shone bright with interest, and he shut the book close with a hand. “Thought you’d never ask.”

“And miss out on the very sexy sight of you talking science?” Tony let go of Stephen to walk around to the front and sit next to him on the couch, body turned towards him with admiration in his eyes and a smirk on his lips, giving Stephen all of his undivided attention. “Wouldn’t dream of that, Sweetcakes.”

Stephen’s lip twitched upward as he put the book away. He readjusted himself to comfortably face Tony as well, and started to talk all about the day’s case.

Tony’s hand instinctively reached out to Stephen’s, but he stilled when Stephen abruptly pulled away his hand.

“Sorry,” Stephen mumbled, voice a little guilty.

“Bad hands day?” Tony asked gently.

Stephen was quiet for a moment. Then, hesitantly, he gave a nod.

Tony offered a hand. “Let me take care of them?”

Stephen gave in, putting a shaking hand in Tony’s hold. Tony warmly smiled up at him and started to gently massage the hand, while Stephen continued with his passionate talk on the procedure he’d suggested for the patient.

His hands were shaking way worse than usual, Tony noted. They also felt.. swollen. At least to his touch. When he glanced down, though, there was no swelling, just scars running down lean fingers. But the touch felt so out-of-sync with the sight that he had to glance down multiple times to assure himself that they were, in fact, not swollen.

Maybe his brain was just being weird. Yeah, that was it.

Stephen’s talk slowly simmered down as he just, allowed himself to feel Tony’s fingers caressing his.

“How do you feel?” Tony asked when Stephen had gone quiet, his eyes closed and features relaxed.

Stephen leaned in and propped his forehead on Tony’s shoulder.

“Safe,” he said quietly, a single word conveying so much more emotion than actual words could have.

And, oh, it shattered something inside of Tony.

If only you knew the things these hands have done, Tony thought, dropping a kiss on Stephen’s hair.

Would you still feel safe leaving yours in their grasp?

#ironstrange #fic #hayans tumblr shorts #tony stark #stephen strange #mcu fanfiction #villain iron man #villain doctor strange

30 notes · View notes

nadas-dirthalen · 3 months ago

Text

One Single Person Asked, So Here's A Dirthamen Theory Infodump!

shoutout to @damallarky for activating MY trap card on this long af post.

Since there's a lot, the explanations are going to exist without some of their sources/context. This post can only go on so LONG lmao.

So. Dirthamen theory time under the break, to spare the eyes of anyone who doesn't want the TIRADE.

First big theory: I think Dirthamen and Falon'Din were split in two at the time of their creation into what we recognize as the Evanuris they are. And I think Elgar'nan did it, poorly, and then Mythal fixed his mess.

Oh, and I think they were an Envy demon. That's important. Now let me explain.

We know sundered spirits are possible, given both the Vir Dirthara in Trespasser (Ghil-Dirthalen, the librarian, was sundered) and also some, uh... spoilery Veilguard stuff. Sorry everyone.

Second, there's a lot to explain what Envy demons are like. They really want to be mortal, for one thing. Second, they're shapeshifters. Oh, and also?

Envy is never satisfied, however. The demon's bottomless cravings to be more—more powerful, more skilled, more inspired—cause it to seek fresh prey, leaving a trail of stolen identities behind.

Who's this sound like? Who, that Solas might have dissed for having an "endless appetite for adulation" as we went through the Temple of Mythal?

Also, Dirthamen and Falon'din are the first of Elgar'nan and Mythal's "children." Time to dip into Dalish legend and pick out what I think are the kernels of truth.

[Elgar'nan] was the first of the elven gods, born of the sun and the earth. According to elven legend, the sun grew jealous of the favor shown by Elgar'nan for the things of the earth, and so burned them to ashes. In retaliation, Elgar'nan threw the sun down from the sky, and only later relented because of Mythal's intervention. He was convinced, with her help, to restore his father to the sky on the promise that the sun would set each night.

There's a lot to go over here. I'm gonna break down why I have bolded what I bolded.

So we know that the words for "sun" and "spirit" are almost the same thing in the elvish language. And we ALSO know that the Fade is oft called the "sky," and the Deep Roads/Titan Things are referred to as "the earth." These are then contrasted in Trespasser as places where magic works differently — the "unchanging world" is described as having the "pull of the earth," forcing everything to be more corporeal, more real (and also lowkey singing of lyrium.)

Put that all together, and when I read 'the sun grew jealous of the favor shown by Elgar'nan for the things of the earth', I think about a spirit being jealous of Elgar'nan's corporeality and his work with "earthly" magic.

Then we see that "the Dalish believe that when Elgar'nan buried the sun in the abyss," this caused the dwarves to be afraid of him because of whatever happened down there. And only Mythal was able to intervene to end this process.

And my favorite point? The promise that the sun would have to set each night. The sun becoming two different things: day and night. Light and dark.

Spirit and demon? Maybe reflection and shadow.

See, my theory is that Dirthamen and Falon'Din are two natures of the same spirit: the first half wisdom, because even Envy demons hunger for knowledge, and the second half still demonic, because of everything we know about Falon'Din. His hunger for adulation. Power.

This is also echoed, faintly, in the Chant of Light. "[...] And grew jealous of the life they could not feel, could not touch. In blackest envy were the demons born." (It mentions that this is after the creation of the Veil, but I think humans just... got that one wrong.)

As well as...

Now, with their Father's eye elsewhere, the firstborn At last created something new: Envy. They looked upon the living world and the favored Sons and daughters there, covetous of all they were. Within their hearts grew An intolerable hunger. Until, at last, some of the firstborn said: "Our Father has abandoned us for these lesser things. We have power over heaven. Let us rule over earth as well And become greater gods than our Father."

So, in summary: I think that Elgar'nan came across a super jealous, super powerful demon and decided, extremely clear-headedly, to throw it down toward the Titans and... do something horrifying to it. Mythal intervened, and out came Dirthamen and Falon'Din, sundered. One cut off from its demonic nature (perhaps unwilling/not able to see/hear/speak properly? Like the priests in the Temple of Dirthamen?) and the other left with nothing else.

Second big theory: Dirthamen left Falon'Din's side and joined the Mythal-Solas side of the Evanuris war.

First, there's these mosaics. Fen'harel, Mythal, Dirthamen, and Andruil.

Second, there's Dirthamen mosaics right when you start the elven ruin part of Trespasser. (featuring my Lavellan looking less than pleased.)

And third? Bear with the fact that I have no pictures of the actual room. But in the same room in Trespasser where you find the painting of Solas removing valasslin, there are 5 mosaics lined up on both sides of that big hall, in the same order. Falon'Din, Dirthamen, Fen'harel, Mythal, Dirthamen.

To me, it reads as: Falon'Din and Dirthamen were a pair, then Fen'harel happened, then Dirthamen and Mythal were on the same side.

Third big theory: Dirthamen's valasslin tells a story.

(If you saw this on the source post, you can skip it, it's copied here just to have everything in one place.)

I'm gonna reference this post a lot, but suffice it to say: I'm going off an educated guess that triangles referenced in elven art/society represent the Veil, and diamonds represent the Fade.

That said, behold my terrible penmanship, because I've had a theory that Dirthamen bounced since I took a really critical look at Inky's and Bellara's valasslin.

I'm going off the assumption that Dirthamen's valasslin is a raven flying downward. Beak at the tip of the nose, wings spanning the cheeks. There's some third eye imagery on Inky's chin (which would be above the beak, since we're looking upside down) and, crucially, a big ring on the forehead that looks like it's been broken through.

It looks like Dirthamen has broken free of the forehead ring and has escaped. And what's surrounding that ring? You got it. Triangles. There's small triangles on the wings as well, and another on the beak. But the largest, which I haven't written down, is at the bottom of the chin. Almost like that third eye forced its way out, with massive magic. (Note also, every "feather" on the wings is a very warped triangle.)

It feels like a narrative that says: Hey. Dirthamen isn't in his prison. He got out. His mind/magic broke him loose.

I take it as Chapter One of the Dirthamen Valasslin Chronicle™, because when I look at Bellara... (please, suffer my penmanship again, I'm so sorry)

I see two birds sitting on either side of a big third eye. And what is under them (but above her eyebrows)? You guessed it!!! Triangles!!! And, on the other side of that sort of natural line of her brow? Diamonds.

(Tiny side thought: I think the birds bring on swirly branches reminiscent of Mythal's valasslin is indicative that Dirthamen was part of her side/rebellion with Solas, but that's its own post)

Anyway. Two birds sitting on this side of the Veil. The Not-Fade side. And what are they sitting around?

A huge third eye, itself on a set of two triangles. To me, it's implying all-seeing-eye energy, and also implying that Dirthamen is watching. From THIS side of the Veil.

And that, to me, is a very interesting Chapter Two of the Dirthamen Valasslin Chronicle™. A conclusion as much as a warning.

Last big theory: I think Dirthamen was involved with Andraste during her lifetime—if not as Shartan (who I think might've been an agent of Solas), then as Havard.

There's so much of this theory that's just vibes and gut feelings, but I think that all of the Evanuris had their grubby little fingers in Andraste's life, because I think that they knew she was harboring Mythal.

Andraste was born the same year that Dumat was slain. And, knowing what we know from the DA:tV combat trailer (I'm sorry, everyone), we know that the Evanuris did, in fact, have archdemons. My theory is that Dumat was Mythal's, and that either Andraste or her half-sister were born with an old god soul. Her sister's death is, I think, the moment when Mythal proper (the same piece that's in Flemeth now) entered Andraste's body.

And I think all the Evanuris knew, through their agents, through their own archdemons, through the darkspawn hivemind—you name it.

I think all the Evanuris had agents playing roles in everything in Andraste's life next. I think Solas tried to appear to Andraste in dreams as the Maker—which, mind breaking under an old god and Mythal, did not go super well or translate super clearly. When that failed, I think Solas sent Shartan to help.

But meanwhile? I think Havard and Maferath are representative of Dirthamen and Falon'Din. For starters, they were inseparable childhood friends until Maferath's betrayal. He's also shield-coded, just like Dirthamen's Wisdom is a shield. He's repeatedly referred to as The Aegis in the Chant of Light and elsewhere.

Havard pledged himself to Andraste's cause, though was too late to save her life. This echoes how I believe Dirthamen switched sides, but not fast enough to save Mythal.

Maferath betrayed Andraste (and also Havard, by consequence) out of jealousy, much like I believe Falon'din was the catalyst for Mythal's murder.

Havard carried on after Andraste's life ended, quietly bringing her ashes to a sacred temple, where those who accompanied him there would go on to guard eternally. Much like how I feel Dirthamen is still out there somewhere now, watching. Waiting. Learning.

To what end? Well, I hope we find out in Veilguard. (I kind of hope we find out through Bellara, specifically. Or Lucanis, from... perhaps... the Falon'Din side of things. Maybe, tragically, both.)

If you stayed this long, YOU'RE A HERO! Clap for yourself! And thanks for reading! And tell me if I'm wrong on any counts!

#dragon age #dragon age meta #dragon age theory #dirthamen #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #da:tv #da:v #da:tv spoilers #evanuris #evanuris lore

26 notes · View notes

jstor · 10 months ago

Text

Effie Lee Morris stands as a towering figure in the realm of children's literature and library services, leaving an indelible mark through her visionary leadership and tireless advocacy. Born into an era marked by racial segregation and systemic barriers, Morris defied the odds, rising to become a beacon of change and progress. Her journey began as a public librarian in Cleveland and later in the Bronx, where she cultivated a deep appreciation for the transformative power of literature and education.

In 1971, Effie Lee Morris shattered barriers as the first African-American president of the Public Library Association, a milestone that underscored her commitment to equity and inclusion in library spaces. Her groundbreaking work extended beyond administrative roles; Morris played a pivotal role in shaping the landscape of children's literature by spearheading the establishment of the Coretta Scott King Award. By crafting the original selection criteria in 1970, she laid the foundation for recognizing and celebrating African-American authors and illustrators, ensuring their voices resonated prominently in the literary world.

Morris's impact reverberated within the walls of the San Francisco Public Library (SFPL), where she assumed the role of the first coordinator of children's services. During her tenure, she revolutionized children's literature by establishing a research collection of out-of-print books, meticulously documenting the evolving portrayals of ethnic and culturally diverse groups. This collection, later renamed the Effie Lee Morris Historical and Research Collection in her honor, served as a testament to her unwavering dedication to preserving diverse narratives and fostering cultural understanding.

Beyond her professional achievements, Morris's advocacy extended into the realm of social justice and community engagement. She founded the San Francisco chapter of the Women's National Book Association and actively participated in the American Library Association's Social Responsibilities Round Table, championing causes aimed at combating racism, inequality, and poverty. Her contributions were met with widespread recognition, as evidenced by numerous accolades, including the Silver Spur Award and the Grolier Foundation Award, affirming her status as a trailblazer in the literary landscape.

Effie Lee Morris's legacy transcends generations, inspiring future leaders and storytellers to uphold the values of diversity, inclusion, and equity in children's literature and library services. Her visionary spirit lives on in the countless lives touched by her work, serving as a timeless reminder of the transformative power of literature in bridging cultures, fostering empathy, and igniting change.

Read more about Effie Lee Morris here.

#jstor #black history month #effie lee morris #librarians

239 notes · View notes

honeybeezgobzzzzz · 11 months ago

Text

𓅨 The Cold is Never Violent: Chapter Six

The Cold is Never Violent: You were determined to help Morpheus get his tools back, so you willingly followed him to hell. Hell was not supposed to be this cold. Lucifer has something up their sleeve, making you stay the night in hell before the Oldest Game, and it does not bode well for you.

Warnings: I did Edit but it’s like 2 in the morning so…

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x AFAB!Reader, Pour Vous @melancholypancakes 😘

Word Count: ~3.6k

Previous | Masterlist

Morpheus and Matthew had left to retrieve the ruby, leaving Lucienne to putter around the library and question the motive and actions of her lord. Surely he was smarter than this! Morpheus, in his great endeavor to protect you, his love, had managed to hurt you deeply and most likely hadn’t even realized it! Even after a few days of Morpheus being gone, Lucienne hadn’t seen you return from leaving for the brother’s houses.

You had said that you needed time away from the palace, and while Lucienne was reluctant to let out wander away from the safety of the palace she couldn’t fault you from wanting away from the place Morpheus had kept you in for nearly four days straight. But you hadn’t come back, and no word had come from the brothers regarding you staying over. To be frank the librarian was concerned for you. Putting away a few new books, Lucienne was alerted to the arrival of her lord and turned in place. Morpheus did not hold the ruby necklace within his hand, but the air around him shimmered with immense power.

“My lord,” Lucienne greeted as Matthew fluttered over and landed on the nearby table. “I see that you were successful in retrieving your ruby.”

“To a point,” Morpheus replied, stopping by the table and focusing on his power to fully return the library to its former glory. “John Dee defiled the gem and it’s ultimate destruction returned my power to me.” Lucienne frowned at the thought of a mortal defiling such a reverent and important piece of the Dreaming… but the shift and shivers of the library took her attention.

In a matter of seconds the library was back to its regal state, pristine wood and polished floors. The librarian sighed in happiness at her domain finally returning to its formal glory. Just as the library shifted back to its normal state, the rest of the palace quickly shifted and groaned as it rebuilt itself.

“Regarding the affairs of the realm, it should return to normal within the next day as Fiddler’s Green has returned. What is the status of the census?” Morpheus questioned, half his conscious focused on rebuilding his realm. There was so much to do.

“It is nearly complete, just a few remaining denizens unaccounted for but that is to be expected.” Lucienne informed the Dream Lord, retrieving the long list of names and placing it down on the table.

“And Y/N? Have they caused any trouble while I was gone.” Morpheus glanced around, expecting you to pop out from behind a book shelf and argue about why he had left you behind. You were no where to be seen.

“Y/N left the palace several days ago to visit the brothers,” Lucienne explained, adjusting her spectacles. “They have not, however, returned.”

Morpheus was too distracted by tasks that need doing to contemplate your unusual and slightly concerning action of leaving. You were out of the way and safe within his realm. He’d deal with you later.

The entire Dreaming was glowing with Endless power once more, its residents returned home and town bustling with activity as old. Morpheus felt at home once more, surrounded by his denizens and creations. But as Morpheus sat upon his throne he felt something within his being alert him that something was wrong. What? He did not know but the feeling persisted just below the skin of his physical form.

Drumming his fingers on the arm rests of his throne, the itch to find out what was wrong persisted to the point where he could no longer sit there and wonder. Pushing himself to his feet, Morpheus strode down the stairs and strode towards the gardens. There was a missing piece to his realm, perhaps that was what bothered him.

You.

You were still absent, days after Morpheus had returned and there had been no mischief or questions from you. It was… unsettling. So he strode for the gardens determined to hunt you down and remove this uncomfortable feeling. Surely being in your presence alone would make the Endless feel better. He needed your comforting warmth and embrace.

Exiting the palace, Morpheus caught sight of Mervyn lumbering through the gardens carrying a bucket and trowel. The pumpkin headed janitor caught sight of his lord walking straight for him and already knew what he was going to inquire. So he paused in step and thought about how to tell Morpheus that you’d left the palace and hadn’t come back, and no one really knew where you were.

“Evening sir,” Mervyn grunted out.

“Tell me, Mervyn, do you know the whereabouts of Y/N? They are partial to your company and I have yet to see them prancing through our halls since my return.” Morpheus questioned, observing his janitor. Mervyn shrugged his wooden shoulders. “Surely they have returned to their mischief and merrymaking…’

“Haven’t seen ‘em, sir,” He spoke before rubbing the back of his pumpkin head. “Actually they’ve been kind of awol since you left to retrieve your ruby. Been really weird not having them around… Don’t know where they went, been awfully quiet ‘round here.”

Morpheus wasn’t pleased to hear that and walked swiftly away to find someone else to ask for your whereabouts. But the kitchen staff hadn’t prepared you any meals since he’d been gone, the servants who took care of your wing reported that you hadn’t slept in your bed in three nights, and the dragon that guarded the entrance to the palace reported that you indeed hadn’t come back since you departed.

“Sir, I’m really worried about where Y/N went,” Matthew spoke after Morpheus had spoken with yet another palace staff member who hadn’t seen you around. “This isn’t like them! They love the palace and being near the library, they wouldn’t just up and disappear like this!”

Morpheus concurred with a troubled frown. Matthew fluttered to the floor in front of the Dream Lord and looked up.

“I don’t think they’re recovered from whatever happened in hell, sir,” Matthew bravely said. “You— you need to find them and make sure they’re okay.”

After speaking with Lucienne, Morpheus made his way to the brother’s houses. Lucienne had told him that you had planned to head there and hopefully you were still there. Had softly spoken about a poor mood or such. As he traveled to the brothers houses, Morpheus contemplated what was wrong with you. He had done his very best to ensure that you were safe and out of harms way since returning from hell. You had been in a vulnerable state, had nearly died, Morpheus wouldn’t even entertain the idea that you would put yourself at risk again. He had been so weak at the start of your relationship, you had been the one doing the protecting. Morpheus vowed to never let anything happen to you ever again now that he was himself once more.

Approaching the joined houses, Morpheus saw that Cain was digging a hole and Abel was playing with Goldie.

“Ah,” Abel spoke, catching sight of the approaching Dream Lord. A wide smile appeared on his face. “What brings you by, sir?”

“Y/N,” Morpheus stated, scanning the grounds for your presence in hopes that you’d pop out of nowhere and put his worries to rest. “I am in search of them.”

“Oh, they were here several days ago, spent the night,” Abel said helpfully before frowning. “They left for Fiddler’s Green on the morn’ and never came back. I thought they went back to the palace…”

Morpheus’ mood darkened and his worry grew more severe. Something was wrong.

“Sir? Is everything alright?” Abel broached, noticing the change in mood in Morpheus. Morpheus blinked and drew himself from his thoughts to address Abel.

“Y/N is missing and I am attempting to track them down.” The Endless explained. “You said they left for Fiddler’s Green? Perhaps he knows where they went.” Abel nodded and pet Goldie on the back.

“If they show up I’ll send word to the palace. It’s not like Y/N to just go missing.” Morpheus nodded, further hiding his growing upset and turned around. Fiddler’s Green wasn’t too far to walk and striding through the lush green forest. Morpheus didn’t need to broach conversation before the Arcana’s disembodied voice floated through the air.

“They aren’t here,” Morpheus paused in step. If you weren’t in Fiddler’s Green, where could you have gone? You weren’t at the palace, not at the brothers, certainly not in town… yet Morpheus could just barely feel the flicker of your mortal being within his realm. He’d never felt your life force so faint before. Something was terribly wrong.

“Do you know where they are? I can barely sense them and fear that something must have happened.” Morpheus questioned, looking up to the blue sky.

“The northern mountains,” Fiddler’s Green explained. “They came to me asking about the coldest place in all of the Dreaming. I do not understand why they would wish to go there, it is not suitable for them. They will surely be far too cold.” The feeling of apprehension within Morpheus turned into panic and dread.

You wished he had just let you die of hypothermia. Hugging your knees to your chest, you sniffed and pressed your damp eyes against your knees. Morpheus didn’t want your help? After all this time? You thought— you thought that had been what brought you together! But now it seemed that you were nothing but a pest to the Endless! It had been foolish of you to start thinking about what it would be like to be in a romantic relationship with Morpheus. Then you had to go and fall in love with him.

“Don’t be even stupider than you already have been, Y/N,” You whispered to yourself. Morpheus had saved you because he couldn’t afford to let Lucifer think that his people were easy pickings. You might not be one of his people but you had been with him at the time. Obligation, not because he cared for you. Not because he— You ground your palms into your eyes and choked back a sob. You couldn’t even say the word! “I’m so stupid.”

Nothing made sense anymore and you were miserable and alone. What you would give to feel that blissful cold again. You opened your eyes. The Dreaming had all sorts of climates, surely there would be somewhere cold that you could go. If you went there you could numb yourself to your hurt. Numb yourself to Morpheus and his obvious annoyance of you. Unfolding your stiff body, you furiously wiped your eyes before exiting your borrowed room at Abel’s house. He and Cain were in the kitchen, having a spot of tea while Goldie munched on a biscuit.

“Oh! Y/N, you’re just in time for tea!” Abel chirped happily while Cain looked over his newspaper. You looked tired and your eyes were stained red.

“Abel made your favorite cookies,” The older brother added, hoping to cheer you up from the slump you seemed to be in. You shook your head and shuffled for the door.

“‘M headed out to Fiddler’s Green,” You announced to them. “Thanks for letting me stay here, I needed a break from the palace.” Abel’s face fell at your departure, for he knew that something was bothering you. But you were within your right to keep your secrets. At least you were heading out to Fiddler’s Green. The fresh air and beautiful nature would surely help you!

“You drop by again, anytime,” Cain called as you exited the cottage. You didn’t reply but gave him a short nod before closing the door behind you. Trudging along, you peered over the stone bridge at the little creek that crossed in front of the brother’s houses and admired the clarity of the water. Everything in the Dreaming had its place, was incredibly beautiful, functioned as it should. Everything but you.

You were out of place, a mortal, and it’s ruler was currently treating you like you had contracted the plague. As desperately as you wanted to, you simply did not belong in the dreaming. Hugging your arms around your body, you entered Fiddler’s Green and walked a little ways just to enjoy the sounds of birds and the explosive green around you.

“Fiddler’s Green?” You finally asked, hoping the Arcana would be inclined to help you. There was a rustle of trees and the entity answered.

“Hello, Y/N,” You sighed in relief, not everyone was ignoring you.

“You know the Dreaming the best,” You started, your eyebrows furrowing in thought. “Where’s the coldest place? The mountains?” The Arcana wondered why you would want to know such information but helpfully answered your question, explaining that the coldest place in the entire Dreaming was a midpoint in the mountains where Dreams and Nightmares that loved the freezing cold resided. There weren’t many, but just enough that a habitat existed for them.

After directing you to a coldest steppe, Fiddle’s Green watched as you swiftly walked yourself from his being towards the mountain, not once thinking that you had anything else but sightseeing on your mind.

Ice crystals had gathered on your lashes from where you lay partially on your side with your back flat against cold rock and snow. When you had reached the base of the mountain, you had started to pull pieces of clothing off your body. First your jacket went, you’d relished the bitter nip the slight breeze caused. But it hadn’t been enough. So you removed your sweater. Still too warm. One by one you left your shoes and socks behind, wandering up the mountain with increasingly chilled skin.

Unlike in hell, this cold soothed the ache in your heart and stole the thoughts of pain from your mind, numbing you to everything around you. By the time you had reached the steppe Fiddle’s Green had told you about, you couldn’t feel your toes and your skin was ice. You were tired, wanted to lay down and nap. So that’s what you had done.

Curled up on the ground, back flat so you could watch little clumps of snow drift down from the sky, you basked in numbness once more. Even as the bitter cold settled into your body, stealing what little body heat you had left, the Dreaming itself was struggling to stop the warmth from leaving your body. Its task was to keep this location at a certain temperature, it could not change that, but you were going to die if you did not find warmth again. So the realm did what is could to simply slow the inevitable unless someone came for you. Without words it was, but the realm was not without communication to its creator.

Feeling a ripple within his realm, Morpheus was altered to the call of his realm, beckoning him to a section of the mountains where the frost fiends and creations resided. The coldest place in all the realm. Surely you would’t be this foolish! In a swirl of sand Morpheus teleported himself and Matthew to the edge of the steppe. He could feel your life force a little stronger now, but it was still so faint. Matthew let out a caw and dove forwards, dropping down to frosted ground to peck at your jacket.

“This is theirs!” The raven cried out, tiny black eyes looking further up the trail. He could see more of your clothes. “You don’t think they did this on purpose… do you?”

Morpheus didn’t reply, he simply stood forward at the increased pace. The further he and Matthew went, the more clothing items strewn on the ground they crossed the more concerned both beings became. Especially when Morpheus spotted your pants and shirt strew on an embankment of snow. You were almost naked and in this weather!? What were you doing with your being?? Rather than continuing to hurriedly walk, Morpheus disintegrated to sand and flew towards your rapidly fading presence. What he found shouldn’t have surprised him, but it sure sent him into a spiraling panic.

You were laying on your back, legs curled at the side and staring vacantly at the falling clumps of pristine dream snow. Your skin was practically blue, and Morpheus couldn’t even comprehend how your flesh had managed to turn that color given your natural complexion. But what caused the most dread and brewed the worst fears in the Endless was how you appeared to hardly even breathe. From behind, Matthew let out an alarmed squawk. Morpheus was acting before the raven could even exclaim a verbal surprise.

Materializing, the dream lord was instantly kneeling down and gathering your shivering body to wrap you firmly within his star laden coat. With you promptly bundled up, he took a half step in place, transporting himself and you to the safety of his palace and the warmth of your wing. He placed you on your bed before quickly removing his clothing. He was not going to los you to stubbornness in his own realm! So Morpheus joined you, whisking away the remaining cloth that barely covered your skin and cradled you tightly within his arms, willing all the warmth he and his realm had back into you.

For nearly a minute the Endless feared that you would succumb to the cold and he would lose you forever… but then you shifted within his arms and let out a small moan. The peaceful cold you had been basking in, had been indulging and succumbing to, was gone!

“No,” You faintly moaned to yourself, willing your mind to retreat back into that solace in which your heart and being didn’t have to feel so hurt. “No,”

“Yes,” Morpheus objected, pressing his face into the crown of your hair handholding you tighter in fear that you would squirm away and slip back into that deathly catatonia. “You will warm up and explain this to me, Y/N. You were but mere minutes from hearing the wings of my sister. You nearly succumbed to the violent cold in hell, why would you purposefully subject yourself to it within my realm!?”

“The cold is never violent,” Your pale lips whispered out, slurring the syllables slightly. “It is peaceful, and doesn’t hurt, and takes away the hurt. I was hurting so much, but not anymore…”

“This is killing you,” Morpheus ground out, hugging you tighter and drawing a hand across your frigid back. How could you possibly be this cold?

“I just want to sleep,” You sighed out, eyelashes fluttered as the drawl of soothing bliss and a pain free future tempted you once more. “Sleep, numb, so nice...” This time Morpheus raised his hand to grip your chin and pull your head back, making you grunt and blink.

“You are not allowed to fall asleep, Y/N. I forbid it,” He sternly decreed.

“Why do you care?” The words slipped from your lips as you looked into the fuzzy face of the one being that had managed to wound your heart like no other. You hated how the blissful numbness that had taken shelter within your heart was slowly disappearing. It was staring to hurt again. “You don’t want me, you don’t need me, you don’t lo—”

“Stop,” Morpheus hoarsely spoke, almost not believing the words tumbling from your mouth. What were you speaking of!? You were the very being that Morpheus felt like he could no live without! He wanted you, he needed you, he loved you with every grain of sand his anthropomorphic being had! “Why? Why would you do this to me? To the realm!? It was trying so hard to keep you from—” His words fizzled out to nothingness, lost to the sounds of your shivers and chattering teeth.

“You said you didn’t need my help,” You stated. “You avoided me until I forced your hand, and— and— it hurts so much to think that you don’t even consider me as a subject let alone a friend. I just wanted to stop hurting, stop feeling…. the cold, the numbness, it felt so nice. It took away my pain. I wanted that back.”

Morpheus felt as if his universe was crashing down around him. You believed that he did not wish for your presence within his realm? You believe that he thought so little of you that you were not worthy of commanding hand of his palace? You believe that he did not love you?? For a few moments the Endless nearly turned into a swirling storm of depressive and morosful sand, the sting of heartbreak almost running rampant. But then the being remembered that this wasn’t you rejecting him and his undying love, you simply believed he did not love and revere you.

“Do you know why I did not wrap you up in my coat?” He asked, resting his forehead against your own so you had to look into his eyes. You drowsily blinked at him but made no attempt to close your eyes or ignore his question. “I’d forgotten how much I enjoy the intimacy of embracing the one I care for most deeply. I crave your touch, Y/N. You are my fragile beloved treasure and I would be inconsolable should anything ever happen to you. I have not pursued a mortal in 10,000 years and I fear that I shall repeat my past mistakes.”

His softly spoken words, filled with sincerity, filled your mind until you forgot about your shivers, forgot about your heartache, forgot about the peaceful cold you had so stubbornly sought. Eyelashes fluttering as you started fighting against the drowsiness that filled your body, you let out a moan and slumped in place. You nearly killed yourself over a misunderstanding and an Endless with poor emotional intelligence.

“I beginning to think that we might have communication issues.”

Date Published: 12/28/23

Last Edit: 12/28/23

Previous | Masterlist

#the sandman netflix #lord morpheus #morpheus x reader #sandman x reader #dream of the endless x reader #dream the endless x reader #dream the endless #morpheus #the sandman #dream of the endless

85 notes · View notes

sleepyfan-blog · 7 months ago

Text

Rescue

Author’s Note: this is the second part of mer-Hagiel’s fic! Previous. Next

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @the-pure-angel @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

Warnings: blood, injury, mild body horror, consensual blood-drinking, sexual thoughts, implied menstrual kink, please ask me to tag anything that bothers you

Summary: Hagiel wakes up in a dark, metal cell. Luckily, you come to his rescue!

Hagiel woke slowly and painfully. His arms were pinned over his head and away from his body. His tail was stretched out to it's furthest extent and each of his fins were stretched out to a painful extent. His thoughts were sluggish and slow, and someone had wrapped cloth around his eyes, keeping him from being able to see. He attempts to move, and agony shot through his body from the lingering points of pain in his body, electric in nature and would be blinding in intensity, if the cloth covering his eyes wasn't currently keeping him from being able to see.

As the agony faded slowly from his body, Hagiel's mind finally gave him the relevant knowledge as to how he'd ended up in this miserable situation...

But it begged several questions: Why would humans from Ancient Terra seek to capture him? Or at least, they were seeking to capture Astartes... Why would they want such a thing? Was the human they were threatening safe? Or had they also been captured?

The Lamenter Sergeant was quite certain that he'd managed to activate his emergency beacon before whatever poison or heavy sedatives the baselines had used to knock him unconscious for God-Emperor knew how long, did the young scouts he'd been watching over and leading through one of their first missions away from the main Lamenter pod that had come together on Ancient Terra followed after the signal? Or did they flee back to the others in hopes of mounting a more successful rescue attempt? He sent a desperate prayer to the Emperor of Mankind that his younger brothers hadn't tried to rescue him and were trapped alongside him... Or killed for their bravery.

Tentatively, Hagiel moved his head from side to side, then up and down. When agony did not strike him for those movements, he did so as quickly and while pressing the knot to whatever metal surface he had been pinned too with as much force as he could manage. It took longer than he would have liked to undo the knot holding the cloth to his face, but once he finally did get it to fall from his eyes, he searched every corner of the small metal room he was in. The first thing he noted was that they had stripped him of all of his armor and weapons - they'd even clipped or filed down his claws. He ran his tongue along the thick, cushioned something they'd shoved in his mouth. Possibly to keep him from speaking? Or biting. Thin wires ran from the short metal rods that the humans had sunk into his arms, fins and tail to a crude battery of sorts that had been left in an open container on the floor. The room itself was dark enough that baseline humans wouldn't be able to see in it without a light source of their own.

Now would be a fantastic time to spontaneously develop warp-powers. Even though it was much more difficult for Librarians to use the warp in any meaningful way, if he could remove the wires from the heads of the metal stakes, Hagiel was quite certain he could brute-force his way out of his restraints, wait for the holes in his flesh to heal enough for him to be capable of coordinated movement and get the fuck out of wherever here is... And maybe find that poor, terrified human, if they hadn't been killed, as their purpose by those nefarious baseline humans as bait had served their purpose.

But Hagiel had never been blessed - or cursed, depending on who you asked - with so much as a whimper of Warp-touched capabilities, and could therefore only glare in abject frustration at the most effective part of his restraints and hope that they would cower away from his seething glare.

...

Fuck. Being captured was not something that Hagiel had ever wanted to be subjected to. He was about to try moving one of his fins - seeing if the electricity would get him as intensely as when he'd tried moving both of his arms earlier when he heard quick but tentative footsteps. The human (who'd been used as bait against him) was just on the other side of the door. Their breathing was quick and shallow, and they called out in a hushed tone "Uhm... Big yellow mer-person, are you in here? I managed to escape the room they put me in 'cause they didn't check me over as thoroughly as they should have. I... I'm not with the people who captured both of us... If... If you're in here, please say something, or at least make a noise."

Hagiel let out a loud rumble, surprised and a little bit delighted by the formerly terrified human's ingenuity. He wished he could respond properly, but the large thing in his mouth prevented him from making more than the most basic of noises.

"I really hope that's you in there, and not more of the kidnapping bastards playing a cruel trick on me." The human murmured - likely to themself, though he heard you clearly enough. The human rattld the door handle, cursing lowly as it was clearly locked.

Hagiel heard scraping and clicking noises of the lock's internal mechanisms for what felt like several eternities, but was more than likely a handful of minutes in reality.

Hagiel heard one last click before the door handle swung open slowly, revealing your anxious but determined face. You give him a relieved smile as you swiftly run into the room, closing the door softly behind yourself, before horror dawns on your face. "Oh... Oh fuck, look at what they did to you, to keep you stuck like this! Shit, hang on. Let me... Lemme get the wires off of you. Then I can try and find something to pull those rods out of your... Everything. They ditched your armor in the water before hauling you deeper into the ship. I'm not sure what we're going to do once I get you out of this room, but we'll figure something out."

... His younger brothers might believe him to be dead, if they'd discarded his armor. Especially if they'd ensured that some of his blood was on it. His hearts eased a little. Hopefully the scouts he'd been training would follow protocol and return to the greater pod, rather than swimming off half-cocked on a mission of holy vengeance in his honor. Hagiel had the utmost faith in his baby brothers to behave themselves.

The. Utmost. Faith.

"Hey, buddy. I've removed the wires from the rods in your body. Blink once if you're comfortable with me getting close enough to remove the gag in your mouth. Blink twice if no, then I'll start by trying to get your tail unstuck." You asked.

Hagiel hummed a little, smiling around the gag in his mouth, looking at you in your eyes before deliberately blinking once before looking away, so as to not confuse you. He wasn't entirely sure, as he'd only heard of Brothers and Cousins finding baseline humans on Ancient Terra to bond with. But he could feel the first whispers of affection, care and the desire to protect you, beyond the baseline training that he, as with all Loyal Astartes felt toward baseline humans in the Imperial Era, as all Astartes had been created to protect and guard baseline humanity from all who would seek to destroy, maim or enslave.

Your small fingers were deft and gently, and he couldn't help but lean into your touch, gold-flecked red eyes warm with affection as he murmurs a hoarse "Thank you. You needn't try and pull the rods from me. Step back please."

You step backwards a couple of paces, nearly back at the door as you ask "Why, what are you going to do?"

"This." He answers with an easy smile. With a concentrated effort of will, he yanks his arms free of the rods, refusing to give into the urge to howl in pain and likely give his captors' notice that he was escaping their grasp.

You splutter in horror as his arms go limp at their sides, bloody holes dripping. The bastards had drilled through the bones in his arms and hands to get their restraints in place. Just how long had he been unconscious?

You rush over to him, hands flailing in the desperate desire to help "There's... There's gotta be a better way of getting you free than doing this! I'm pretty strong, but there's no way I'm going to be able to carry you through the ship, unless you're a lot lighter than you look."

"Don't worry, Astartes heal fast, brave mortal." Hagiel soothes, smiling woozily down at her. He could feel the intense itchy pain of his bones reforming and knitting themselves back together, before muscles, nerves, blood vessels and skin began to reform as well.

You stare in horrified fascination as he heals, still shaking and visibly anxious. Once his arms have fully healed, he begins yanking the rods out of his fins two at a time, pained growls occasionally escaping his chest, despite his best efforts to suppress all of his pained reactions.

Unfortunately, with the amount of damage he'd taken, and whatever they'd used to keep him under was slowing the rest of his healing. To make matters worse, he'd been on a hunting trip with the scouts and had not eaten in several days, which slowed his healing - and made the eternal hunger that all Lamenters did their best to deny at every turn that much more difficult to resist. Especially as you were right there, warm and worried and filled with delicious, tempting blood. But he would not feed on you - especially without permission.

He would not be the monster that his cousins the Flesh Tearers had turned into, nor would he strike at an ally who'd come for him, despite the danger it put them into, rather than trying to escape on their own.

"You... You seem to be healing slower. Is there anything I can do to help you?" You ask, looking up at him anxiously as he continued to bleed, slumped against the metal wall he'd been pinned against until moments ago.

Hagiel hesitates, looking at you briefly before looking away "... If I had something to eat, it would help replenish the resources my body is expending in healing me. I had not eaten for some time before my capture, and whatever vile poisons they used to knock me unconscious are doing me no favors now."

"Oh... Unm..." You murmur as you pat your pockets desperately. You pull out several small pieces of caramel. The packaging is brightly colored and shiny, even in the darkness of the room that you and Hagiel are in. "I have a handful of candy. It's... It's not much, but it's better than nothing? Is there anything else I can give you, for sustenance?" You'd heard that Astartes could eat pretty much anything as long as their teeth could break it down. you started to unwrap the candies, offering them freely for him to take.

Hagiel shifted a little, taking the offered candy and swallowing them - and the wrappers - within a second. "I... There is... But..." He shifts, not looking at you.

"But nothing! Will this kind of food help you heal faster? I don't know how long before those bastards come back, and I'm not much of a fighter. But I'm not going to just ditch you to go to one of the buffet rooms on the upper-level decks. I don't know how many of the crew and passengers are in on this, and if they know I'm running around free, they might come to check on you... And I... I don't want you to get more hurt because of me. Tell me what it is! I want to help you, so that we both can escape this shitty place." You growl as quietly as your anxiety-fueled irritation would allow you. You shove your way into his personal space, glaring up at the giant dumb fish-man.

"I... It's... You will likely deny me, when I tell you, not that I would blame you." Hagiel hedged, trying to press away from you.

You're not having any of this squirrely nonsense. You've been threatened at knife point and kidnapped by a bunch of uppity assholes, and your ticket out of here was being weird about getting what he needs in order to make sure the two of you escaped alive and relatively whole. With a boldness you're sure is fueled by desperation, you grab his ridiculously handsome giant face and force him to look you in the face "Tell me. Right now! I don't care how weird or off-putting whatever you need is. Just. Fucking. Tell me!" You'd heard a number of rumors about Astartes. What they were capable of. What they wanted. What they needed. You weren't sure how much of that was true and how much was bullshit, and you needed this squirmy golden bastard to cooperate with you.

Hagiel growled, pulling away from you, his sharp teeth flashing and snapping half-heartedly at your fingers. He could have easily bitten you and deliberately choose not to. "Fine! If you insist. Raw meat would work but blood - fresh, warm blood would be best. Would you allow me to drink from your life-essence, in order to gain the strength necessary to get us free of this prison?" He bared his fangs at you, hissing in irritation.

Part of you was screaming to get away from this large, terrifying predator. Most of you was delighted to have found a handsome vampire-merman. Despite his hissing and growling, he'd been nothing but gentle and considerate of you, and considering how shittily other humans have treated him so far, that was damn near a miracle he hadn't snapped your neck the moment he could and ate you. Youd been an (unwilling!) part in his capture after all... And you'd fantasized more than once about what it would be like to have a vampi- no! You weren't going there. Not right now. "Yes, I will. How much do you need?"

"... I will endeavor not to take too much from you. I have... Occasionally fed from baseline humans before, and I know how much to take before it weakens you." Hagiel answers.

You wanted to push the issue, but given that he'd needed your help before, it made sense for him to err on the side of caution. "Alright, how do we do this?" You ask.

He gently grabbed one of your hands with both of his. "I can drink from a number of veins or arteries, but given the likely limited time that we had, either from your neck or from one of your wrists. Unless... Ahh..." A bit of a blush colored his face as his eyes glanced down at your legs. A couple of his most experienced brothers spoke of how baseline human women bleed for days at a time from their cores without the blood loss negatively affecting them. Shedding the blood had other unpleasant side-effects for them, but the monthly bleeding happened regularly. "But that would put you in a vulnerable position and we are strangers in a dangerous position. But uhm. If you. If you were already bleeding without injury I could. Uhm. Take sustenance from that instead. Or so. My older brothers have told me."

"Bleeding without being injured? What do you mea-oh. Ohh. I think. I think I know what you're referring to. I don't. I'm not. Which wrist do you want to drink from?" You ask, a flustered blush burning on your face as you beat back the thoughts of seeing his handsome face between your legs during that time of the month. Being able to thread your fingers through his curly golden hair as he relieves some of the pain and tension as you - no! Now was not the time to lose focus!

"Which is your non-dominant hand? My saliva will heal the wound well enough, but there may be some lingering pain." Hagiel asks, his large hands surprisingly warm as he cups both of yours with a surprising amount of gentleness. You can feel the callouses on the palms of his hands, and silently wonder what they are from.

"I'm left-handed." You answer, unable to get the blush on your face to die down fully. You shiver when he takes your right hand in both of his, bringing it up to his lips.

He presses a series of courtly kisses to your fingertips and knuckles, before gently flipping your hand over. His breath is warm on your palm and wrist as he presses one kiss to the middle of your palm, and one final kiss to the inner portion of your wrist. His red and gold eyes search for yours, and his voice has a rough, almost growly edge to it as he asks, his lips brushing against your wrist "Are you certain, *la mia perla?"

It's sweet that he's so concerned about your consent, but given the urgency of the situation, you feel justified at the frustration creeping into your voice. "Yes, I am sure. Drink quickly, before the bastards show up! I don't know how often they check on either one of us."

He hums in agreement, giving your wrist one final kiss before opening his mouth and sinking his fangs into your wrist. The pain burns, but not as badly as you were expecting. You bite the inside of your cheek, to keep from allowing the pained squeak that wanted to crawl out of your throat. He'd probably stop, and that wouldn't help either one of you.

Hagiel took several swallows of your blood before withdrawing his fangs and licks the two small wounds he'd left on your wrist. His wounds have at least sealed over completely. "Stay close to me, and I'll get us free. I can swim through the air." He scooped you up, wrapping one arm around your waist, encouraging you to hold on tightly as he flew through the hallways of... Wherever the fuck you and he had been stashed. You didn't recognize where you were, at least not until he carried you up several flights of stairs, the bare steel and wood giving way to well-decorated and often carpeted floors that were well-lit as well.

"We're still on the cruise ship! Head down this corridor, up two flights of stairs and then we'll be on the observation deck! From there we should be able to get to open air! I... Uhm. I'm not sure what I'm going to do, but you'll be free to return to the ocean, and whatever you were doing before you rescued me." You responded, at first elated but then crushed. If the ship was on it's current heading, it would be days before the cruise ship made part at it's next stop - and that was if a majority of the crew and passengers were unaware of the temporarily kidnapped Astartes and the plans that yours and his kidnappers had for the large yellow mer. "I'm sure I can hide in the room I rented until the ship makes landfall."

"Don't be ridiculous. You're coming with me, *la mia perla. This ship is as dangerous for you as it is for me, and I won't leave you behind to be hunted. Besides, there's a possibility that-" Hagiel said, being interrupted as something slammed into the side of the cruise ship, causing it to list fifteen degrees starboard. He readjusted his flight trajectory "- as I suspected, that is quite likely some of my brothers, mounting a rescue or more likely with the discarding of my armor, an assumption that this ship was responsible for my death and intend to sink it in vengeance." Please let the attack not be only by the scouts he'd been watching over. He'll be very disappointed... And proud... Of them if they didn't go for help.

"I can't breathe under water." You point out. Sirens had started and people were starting to fill the hallways of the ship, fear and panic on everyone's faces.

"I can swim in air easily, and after I reassure my brothers of my status as among the living, I can swim you to a nearby baseline settlement through the air, as I am moving now, so that you will be returned safely to land." Hagiel explains. Part of him wants to offer you the chance to change - to become a near-eternal mer similar to himself, but that had other connotations and despite being quite certain that you are his bonded human, rushing to such things has spelled near-disaster for less patient brothers and cousins in the past.

"... Oh, that works. Uhm, there's a good chance that most of the humans who are aboard this ship have no idea what our kidnappers are up to, and are innocent of their crimes." You point out.

Hagiel sighs, nodding a little "I suspect that is true as well. But first I need to reassure my brothers that I am alive, and that not every baseline human aboard this vessel was complicit in my temporary capture. You chief among them, la mia perla." As he said that, he carried you out onto the observation deck of the ship. He flies out of one of the holes made in the glass, looking around and seeing eight of his brothers attacking the ship with fist and spear.

The scouts he'd been leading... And no one else. He sighs and calls out "Boys! Retreat from the ship, and someone call the nearest Chapter master. We have innocents mixed with the guilty aboard that ship. And why didn't you follow protocol?"

"We sent a call for aid, sir! Chapter Master Malethas is coming with as many as he can rally to his side! He also ordered us to lame the vessel, so that it wouldn't be able to escape justice." The scouts chorused as one, rushing over to him, peering at the mortal in his arms.

Altheas, the boldest of the scouts asked "Why are you holding this human? Is she a captive?"

"No, she helped me escape, and did not play a willing part in my capture." Hagiel corrected swiftly, before any of his bratty and unruly baby brothers could take an ill-conceived notion.

"Ohhh... Thank you for rescuing our older brother, pretty miss!" The scouts chirp as one, moving closer to Hagiel and you, eyes shining with curiosity.

Two of them peel off to watch the cruise ship and further damage the engines, hissing at any human who pokes their head over the side of the ship to figure out what's going on.

Hagiel sighs a little, shifts how he's holding you before swatting at his little brothers "Go on, help your brothers slowdown that ship, and stop staring! Honestly, it's like you've never seen a baseline human up close before, and I know that you all have."

"Yes sir..." The remaining scouts chirp as they gleefully dive after the cruise ship, cackling.

*my pearl in Italian according to google translate

#cw: body horror #cw: wounds #Lamenters #Lamenter oc #x reader #space marine husbandry sentience #warhammer 40k #Celestial Seas AU #my writing

33 notes · View notes